Reborn

Leon took Kara's hand and helped her to her feet.

But after only a few steps, Kara's legs gave out, and she collapsed toward the ground.

Leon caught her with quick reflexes.

"I'll carry you out."

Sliding his arms beneath Kara's armpits and knees, Leon lifted the frail, withered girl into his arms.

As he walked out of the lead-lined room, corpses lay everywhere throughout the underground base.

The translucent white corridors had been stained red by broad splashes of blood.

As Kara looked at the bodies along the way—some severed at the waist, others with their heads blown apart—a vengeful delight flashed through her dim green eyes.

Leaning against Leon's chest, she could only see his profile and the firm line of his jaw when she looked up.

This was the person who had saved her, when she had been at her most helpless and numb.

Kara knew he could not truly be the angel Michael.

But to her, that made no difference.

Light gradually returned to Kara's eyes.

Her gaze was hollow and cold when she looked at the corpses, yet when she looked at Leon, it was like a dead neon sign suddenly flickering back to life.

If Leon had looked down and met Kara's eyes at that moment,

one thought would surely have crossed his mind: This girl is probably about to say she can never repay the debt of saving her life, so she can only offer herself to me.

Of course, that was impossible.

After being imprisoned for more than a decade, Kara's heart was colder than Luthor's bald head. At most, she would silently remember this kindness.

Kara secretly studied Leon, from his profile to his neck to his chest, and then her gaze suddenly froze.

That emblem, "S," had earlier seemed just