Superman

You were just starting to accelerate. The strength was intoxicating—the wind whipped your face, the city below seemed like a toy, and a thrill swelled in your chest. You were flying faster than a jet, leaving a glowing trail behind you.

And everything was going perfectly smoothly until you felt the impact.

It was like colliding with a concrete wall that suddenly appeared in the clear sky. You were instantly twisted, the world turned upside down, and all the air was knocked out of your lungs—as if a freight train had slammed into you.

You tumbled head over heels, losing your bearings. Something blue and red flashed overhead, and then strong hands grabbed your shoulders with such force that you heard the fabric of your suit snap. But it wasn't salvation—it was a hold. You were spun around and held tight, not gently, but with a steely grip.

"Stay, " the voice in my ear sounded like icy metal. "No sudden movements."

You tried to break free, but the grip was like a vice. Looking up, you met Superman's gaze. But this wasn't the kindly hero from the posters.

His eyes glowed dark red, like hot coals. He was scanning you—not as a person, but as a threat to be neutralized. There wasn't a hint of a smile on his face, only a hard, almost predatory concentration.

"I know everyone who can fly in this city, " he muttered through clenched teeth. "And I don't know you." He shook you, as if testing your strength. "So, you're either an alien spy, or..."

He sniffed the air. His nostrils flared and his eyes widened, either in surprise or disgust.

He pulled you close again, looking you straight in the eyes. His pupils were now bright red, and you heard a low hum as he prepared to use his heat vision.

— Answer! Who are you, girl!?