Cyra was screaming as she fell down the rabbit hole.
A tunnel had opened up beneath her, sending her bouncing and spinning down a dark cavern. The dirt flew around her and the walls flashed with colors as if dancing to vivid torches. Once Cyra's screams had died down, Cyra could hear subtle old 80s rock muffled by the walls.
"You have found yourself on the ride of a lifetime!" the short man's voice boomed behind her as if being projected from a microphone, his voice causing the walls to thump to a heartbeat that wasn't her own. "I'm going to show you exactly what you are missing in your poor, pathetic life!"
"You're pathetic!" but Cyra doubted the goblin could hear her all the music and echoes.
"Our first stop!"
The tunnel began to shake, flashing strobe lights that made Cyra clench her eyes tightly, but it didn't help the strong whites shining through her eyelids and as fast as it had come, it was gone.
When Cyra peeled open her eyes, she was no longer in the rabbit hole.
Instead, she sat in her living room. She looked around, bamboozled, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it until it hit her—the house was dead quiet. The usual screams, cries, and maniacal laughter didn't rattle the air, but the house seemed oddly at peace—unnaturally so.
The reality warper's voice followed her and despite how many corners Cyra checked behind or cabinets she opened, she couldn't see him anywhere, but thinking about it, he could be invisible. Or a fly on the wall, but at the moment, Cyra was in a daze of shock so it didn't matter.
The motherly Kailey Brion sat at a long glass table, much bigger than the round wooden one that could barely seat four people, and she looked absolutely radiant.
Instead of the usual frizzy bundle, her hair was in a lovely braid wrapping around a bun on her head and she was wearing jeans and a flowing white top that made her blue eyes pop.
"Mom?" Cyra questioned, unnerved.
"Oh, hey, Cyra," her mom grinned brightly. "You're home early, I made you lunch."
She gestured to the glass table, once empty, now filled with towers of overflowing fondue spirals and burgers of all different shapes and sizes stacked upon one another, followed by glasses of Root Beer or lemonade and everything in between. In the back of her mind, Cyra knew that this couldn't be real—just another illusion, but the sweet smells invading her nose was certainly real—as was the grumbling in her gut.
"What are you waiting for? Sit down," Kailey ordered and practically shoved Cyra down into a nice fancy chair, a plate stacked with ribs and potatoes sliding in front of her.
The odd thing was, unlike in all the movies where the family is replaced by robots that you know is too perfect to be true, Kailey Brion was acting just as Cyra knew her mom to act. She was forceful, funny, but without all the stress and exhaustion.
"Are you real?" Cyra's eyes were wide with wonder.
Her mom laughed. "Yeah, I'm real. I've been real since the day I was born—the day you were born—which I would think is a very important date for you to remember. Is there a problem?" Her mother crossed her arms and squared her shoulders—a challenge.
Yep, just how Cyra remembered.
"Of course not!" Cyra said quickly. "I remember my birthday! I can remember a simple date. It's like Christmas or Halloween."
"You hate Christmas," Kailey's lips twisted downwards in a confused like frowned that she shared with her daughter.
"I know I hate Christmas."
"And you can remember more than a couple of dates!" Kailey exclaimed, walking over to an expensive stainless steel refrigerator, swiping a folded cream sheet of paper before landing it in front of Cyra.
The young blonde read it and her mouth fell open. She grabbed it and held it up to the light to make sure she wasn't seeing things.
"I have all A's?" Cyra's voice rose a few octaves. "And a 4.0 GPA?"
"You always have," Kailey narrowed her eyes as if Cyra had landed from another planet.
"How?" Cyra didn't ask it as much as she demanded it.
"You're a natural genius!" Kailey exclaimed, and Cyra couldn't help but snort.
Her eyes scanned over the sheet again to be sure she wasn't just seeing her greatest dreams.
"How does it look?" a sneezy voice whispered harshly in her ear, causing Cyra's chair to squeal as she jumped up. The imp sat in the air, relaxing back nonchalantly. "All the simple teenager pleasures you can dream of."
Cyra blinked. The air was cleaner—sharper and he had whispered perfectly into her right ear. Cyra grabbed behind her throngs of hair and felt the crisp, undamaged ear stuck to her head. Cyra let out a laugh, clapping her hand next to the side of her head to find that the noise came through as clear as a whistle.
"Impressed?" he smirked. "I knew you'd like that one. Didn't even take a second. You could have it back forever just as easily."
Fighting against the euphoria flowing through her veins, Cyra grabbed a fork from the table and leveled it at him. "Stop messing with my mom," she barked savagely.
"Not good enough? Geez, kid, you have some high standards. You want more money? Everyone likes money." He snapped his fingers.
The house suddenly transformed into a three-story Victorian mansion, similar to that of the White House. The kitchen expanded five times its original size, ornate cabinets stretching across the walls with marble floors and a table that could easily fit their entire family—which was no easy feat.
Cyra had to fight against her heart screaming at her to just take it and check out the huge in-ground pool in the backyard, but instead, she turned to the magic man, her eyes scorching with rage.
"None of this is real!" Cyra brandished her fork in the man's face.
He rolled his eyes, snapping his fingers and the fork in Cyra's hand shifted into a small hamster. Cyra let out a shriek, dropping the hamster onto the table where it scuttled away.
"Of course it's real! What are you not getting?" He waved his arms, thumping a finger on Cyra's skull, and she yelped. "I'm changing reality—real is right in the name! This is all real and if I skedaddled right now, it would stay this way, this would be all you ever know, and no amount of weak quantum power can change it. I'll obviously have to skip through all the middle stuff of me having your school blow up or the Justice League bowing to you to something more interesting."
"Wait, let's go back to that last one—"
"Nope, you had your chance but someone has no patience! I could pop you up some of that too later. For now—"
He snapped his fingers and Cyra's whole world twisted upside down.
It was like everything came at her, like one of those black and white hypnosis screens, forming around her faster than she could blink, which wouldn't have been possible with the sparks that were flying in the space behind her head from pure wonder.
Then she noticed where she was and rolled her eyes.
"Why are we outside of Wally's house?" Cyra demanded to the skies. The fluffy white clouds made a familiar impish face, which laughed like cowbells before disappearing into a swift wind as her only answer.
The door the two-story simple red-roofed house opened, revealing a grinning ginger speedster in the doorway.
"As much as I love beautiful women showing up at my door, why are you here?" Wally smirked.
"Aww, you called me beautiful," Cyra gushed falsely, nursing her chest jokingly, almost forgetting about the troll that was screwing up the entire world. Roses bloomed up her neck, but she hid it by shrugging up her shoulders. She started awkwardly, "It's been awhile."
"It has," Wally nodded, his smirk fighting on the edge of amusement and smugness.
"And I don't know why I'm here," Cyra said loudly, towards the sky. "So, I'm just gonna go . . . oh geez."
When Cyra turned around to walk all the way back to the Cave—or better—Coast City, she was met with a train flying by silently, centimeters away from her nose, dangerously close to ripping the skin from her body.
"That wasn't there before."
"Is there a problem?" Wally asked, a gust of wind signaling he super sped up behind her. Cyra turned around to face his confused green eyes. "You're acting weirder than usual."
Cyra smiled brightly. "You just described my whole day!"
"Do you want to come inside," Wally bowed and gestured towards the house.
"Seeing as I can't escape, sure," Cyra said with more joy than she thought she'd be able to force into her words.
Cyra followed Wally up the porch steps and into his house. His parents were at the dining room table and greeting her, but Wally quickly pulled her by her hand up into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him with a sigh as if they had been running through a war zone.
"Their having a lazy day, so they didn't have the energy to interrogate us," Wally explained.
Cyra sat lightly down on his bed, looking around at the walls that were decorated with Flash and science-themed posters. A grin sprouted on Cyra's face as she read one with a periodic table on it that read, "Do I know any jokes about Sodium? Na."
"Nerd."
"Shut up, you'd laugh if you understood any of them."
Cyra opened her mouth before shutting it and biting her lip, glaring at him sharply. "Whatever," she growled, her eyes scanning the periodic table, "Uh—you're so . . . boron."
Wally couldn't stop the rise of laughter that shook his chest. He rebutted quickly without even glancing at the large table on a tapestry behind him, "Well you are sixty-seven protons."
Cyra squinted at the map before she found the element and rolled her eyes. Wally laughed, slapping his thigh.
"The sleep goes fifty-six protons," Cyra struggled out, wincing after the words had left her mouth.
Wally was hacking with laughter at this point. "Fourteen protons."
Struggling, Cyra finally growled, "Whatever."
Wally put his hands up as he slid over to the bed, hopping onto to it and lounging back into the pillows. "Is there a reason you came to insult me or . . .?"
Cyra let out a bark of laughter, examining the room closely. "Some guy who can supposedly change reality sent me here to see how I can improve the world with the great powers, but over here seems pretty normal."
Suddenly, the sound of the doorbell rang through the house.
"I got it!" Wally jumped up, blurring right out of the room with a strong gust of wind.
A hard thump fell on the back of Cyra's head. The blonde jumped up with a yelp and spun to see the dwarf man floating above the sheets to her bed.
"What do you want?" she hissed, checking over her shoulder to make sure Wally didn't run in to see a grinning man hovering in his bedroom.
"I give you everything! I put all the pieces of the three-piece puzzle in front of you with a step-by-step guide on how to put it together and you burn the pieces. What is wrong with you?" he demanded as if Cyra personally insulted his business.
"What are you talking about?"
"So many stupid questions. Maybe you're not much different from your dumb friends. I could have left you like a crab or something!" he pointed accusingly. "I mean, this is your imagination right now! You can do whatever you want and your subconscious chooses to have a lovey-dovey conversation with some ginger kid? It's not even steamy! You have all the power here and I hope you don't screw it up."
With one final glare, the man melted away into dust and floated away as if picked up by a strong breeze.
"What the heck!" Cyra swore.
"What the heck . . . what?" Wally asked from in the doorway.
Cyra turned around, her hands clasped behind her back with whatever the opposite of nonchalant was. "Hey, Wally," she greeted, too loud even in her own ears. Both of her ears. Her new, perfect ear.
"Hey, Cyra," he mocked with a cocky grin. He sat down at the edge of the bed. "Who you talking to?"
"No one—me," Cyra said. Her eyes flickered sharply around the room until they landed on a red lamp. A smirk graced her lips. She sneakily snapped her fingers behind her back, causing Wally's head to move around her and the once-red-lamp turned emerald green. Slyly, Cyra dropped her hand.
"You're being weird," Wally said, suspicion drizzling through his voice.
Cyra blinked convincingly. "I'm always weird, what's your excuse?"
"Good point, but still—"
"You know what would be funny," Cyra interrupted. Wally found her ill-contained grin unnerving.
"Cyra, I don't—"
"Don't worry. I can always turn you back."
"That's not reassuring."
"Sure it is," Cyra said merrily and snapped her fingers.
Wally's eyes didn't even have time to go wide before he had shrunk down. Cyra bent over the side of the bed to look down at him, but only managed to keep her balance for a moment before falling off the bed in laughter.
A cute yellow creature sat on the bed, rolling over on its side. Dark brown lightning bolts raced across his back and his pointy tail stuck up. His cheeks were rosy and ears sharp, eyes a familiar jade green.
"Pika-Wally!" it squeaked out of horror.
"Oh my god!" Cyra squealed, picking him up and cuddling him to her chest. "You are so cute! And amazing! This is the best day ever!"
Wally waddled around in shock, bumping into the side of the bed. He tries to climb up but fell back down miserably. Cyra would help him up if she wasn't experiencing extreme pain in her side.
"I bet you're wondering why you're like this."
Wally roared like a ladybug in confirmation.
"Well, it all started when I met a guy who could warp reality. Now, he put me in my own little world where I can screw everything up."
Wally gasped cutely in terror.
"I know, it's great."
Angrily, Wally let out a battle cry and sending an electric shock to Cyra. Cyra screeched and dropped him onto the bed, where he had trouble rolling back onto his feet in his new rounder body.
"Pika-Wally! Pika-Wally!" he ranted, brandishing his lightning-shaped tail.
"I don't get why you're so angry," Cyra huffed. "This is the best you've ever looked!"
Wally sparked warningly.
"Yeah, yeah, you want to be changed back."
Pikachu Wally nodded, his stubby arms trying to cross and failing, making him let out a frustrated squeak. His eyes shot daggers into her as she shook with tears prickling the corners of her eyes.
"Hey, at least now you are considered cute," Cyra shrugged. Wally lunged forward to shock her again, but Cyra leaped out of the way with her hands up in defense. "Alright, alright! I'll change you back!"
Cyra snapped her fingers . . . and nothing happened.
So she continued to snap them again and again, focusing intensely on the cute and wonderful Pokemon morphing back into the annoying ginger speedster that was Wally West. Despite her strong thoughts, nothing happened.
"Oh, this is gold! Pure gold! I didn't think you had it in you, Brion! But this, this is what the power was truly meant for!" the short man was squealing, rocking back and forth in the air, clutching his feet. "I love it! You're a better sidekick than I could ever imagine! I should tell you about the story about the one time I turned a whole planet into—"
"Why can't I turn him back?" Cyra interrupted passionately. Wally had fell back at the sudden appearance of the man, going "Pika-Wally! Pika-Wally!" repetitively in obvious confusion and irkson—which might have been partly Cyra's fault.
"You think I was just going to let you end the fun that fast?" he hollered. "Get a backbone, would you?" A backbone was conjured into the air in front of Cyra before blowing away into dust. "You have to learn to keep the fun going until you get bored of it. Shame on you for letting him retain his self-thought!"
"You're a psychopath!"
"Incorrect," he waged a finger. "I feel emotion. We're just alike, but I'm hotter, smarter, has a better sense of humor—"
"That's a lie."
"—and have much more power than your measly ring could ever contain," he finished. "So watch it! I'm doing this out of the kindness in my heart and the least you could do if be a little grateful."
"Wally is trapped in Pikachu's body," Cyra gesture wildly to the Pokemon. "Sorry for not dropping to my knees and kissing your feet."
"I would like it if you did," he pouted. "If you agree, you could easily turn him back."
Cyra let out a bark-like laugh. "I don't respond well to blackmail. Try asking nicely."
"I can do whatever I want. I don't have to ask nicely. I'll ask once more, are you sure you're not just going to accept now and spare me the trouble?"
"Well, now you have me interested."
His grin was predatory as he looked to the side, gazing right into the reader's eyes, and before he snapped his fingers, he said, "Time for the final event of the night, folks!"
Cyra was cast spinning down the 'ol colorful tunnel. The old rock music had gotten louder and Cyra found herself going head-over-heels to 'Under Pressure' and mocking giggles. The lights made Cyra's head thump harder than it already was, but unlike her last ride down, this time she actually stopped at the bottom of the cave.
She slid to a stop, her sneakers scuffling uneasily. Dusting herself off, Cyra stood in the cave that couldn't be bigger than her bedroom and a hand began to tighten around her throat. The tunnel Cyra had just come through had closed up and it left her in a dark cave that seemed to be shrinking by the second.
Then, the room changed with a slow blink of the eye.
Slow colors circled around the walls from invisible spotlights and the music was now low, less disco and more fancy ballroom party. The rocks that built the room transformed into smooth, carved stone with a soft, light wooden floor.
Another snap and the room was suddenly filled.
Cyra saw Hal in an expensive tux, his arm clasped around Jessica Cruz's. Guy Gardner was dancing in the middle of the room. The rest of the Leaguers, looking off in their suits but somehow still dressed to the top-notch were mingling around, even Batman in his dark cowl.
Cyra's family all wore clothes they could never afford, Alexa dancing with Addie and Mark bouncing baby Sam on his knees. Kailey Brion shuffled with a lot of rich men happily. Her siblings were spread out around the room, throwing her toothy smiles.
Cyra took a step toward them but found herself stumble. Looking down, inch-tall heels were wrapped around her feet, showing the tips of her toes. Cyra didn't look nearly as fancy in the flowing white blouse and stopped tightly around her thighs, but she felt very light.
The Team was huddled about. Artemis, Zatanna, and M'gann danced with each other in a tight circle. Each of them had on pretty dresses. Artemis' was green and fell around her thighs, Zatanna's midnight black and her hair were up, and M'gann's constantly shifted with her powers when she moved as if she was struggling to decide her final product.
Robin danced near Zatanna, expensive down to the shiny loafers, but his domino mask still plastered on his face. His grin was cocky. Conner and Kaldur were there, now free from their beach restraints, not a speck of sand on their own suits. Conner looked uncomfortable out of his regular T-shirt.
Then, Wally came prancing out of the plethora of people as if he had arrived out of smoke. His tux was a crisp, sly black with a blood red bow-tie that hung lazily around his neck. His red hair was messy as if he had run his hand through it one-too-many times. His green eyes were unusually bright as was his smile.
"Sup, Cyra," he came to stop in front of her, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he rocked on his heels.
"Hey, you're back to being you!" she pointed out.
Wally glanced down as if he didn't notice before. "Oh yeah, yeah, I like being back in my own, gorgeous body. Thanks for turning me into Pikachu again."
"You're welcome," Cyra smiled back, but it faded quickly. She couldn't let herself get caught up in another illusion. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned around for the man, but saw no sign, but she knew he was watching.
"See you finally showed up to your own party."
Cyra coughed, "My party?"
"All for you," Wally gestured around them. He held out his hand and bowed down jokingly. He wiggled his eyebrow. "May I have this dance?"
Cyra couldn't stop the joy from bubbling out of her mouth. She nodded, taking his hand. "Yeah, since no one else seems to be available."
Wally rolled his eyes but his grin never faded as he led her into the dancing crowd. Suddenly, he flourished his arm, sending Cyra spinning into his tightly before out again in a weird style of salsa dancing. Cyra bumped into him roughly, almost sending both of them to the ground but their laughing would have done the same thing, but they hung onto each other for support.
Cyra twirled to face Wally. He put his hands around her waist and hers went around his neck as they shuffled to a gentle beat. Cyra started to leap back and forth on her feet out of tune. Wally chuckled and followed along until they were both knocking like pinballs into other dancers, everyone giving them dirty—yet amused—looks, but Cyra wouldn't have had a good time if she wasn't being glared at.
"Having fun?" Wally's eyes glittered like gems.
"I'd say," Cyra nodded, an easy smile on her face. "It would be better if I had a real dancing partner."
Wally gasped, his eyes and mouth widening. "And to think I spun you."
Cyra shrugged nonchalantly and with a smirk, Wally grabbed her tightly and began to spin with super fast circles. The cave spun around them and Cyra laughed, but it sounded like a high-pitched whistle through the air. Wally stopped suddenly, almost sending Cyra flying, and dipped her.
Wally's nose was tickling hers and his face softened. Cyra pressed her forehead to his and shut her eyes peacefully.
But when she opened them again, Wally's eyes had turned a deep-space blue—and Charlie was the one with his hands rubbing circles on his waist. He tugged her back up with a spin.
"Nice to see you, Brion." His teeth shined bright.
"You weren't who I was dancing with before," Cyra observed with joking skepticism.
"Nah," Charlie shrugged, "but I'm a lot better."
"Debatable, but you can stay."
Charlie's lips curled lazily as he waltzed them around the room. He moved differently from Wally's fast and wild movements. He was almost robotic, programmed how he would place his feet and his eyes were intensely staring at Cyra to the point she had trouble looking her way. A jeweled ring scratched Cyra's hand lightly as he rose her arm in the air for a spin.
"I've missed hanging out with you. Glad that I got a dance with the famous Cyra Brion," Charlie smirked down at her.
"You're lucky I even had time for you," Cyra played along.
"I truly am," he nodded along sadly. A pout graced his lips. "Never leave me, Cyra, I don't know what I'd do without your shining presence in my life."
"Aww," Cyra looked away, pretending as if she was hiding a blush.
"A shining, black, soulless presence."
Cyra stuck out her tongue. "You love me."
"Debatable."
They continued to dance and the music vibrated in Cyra's bones. She lost track of time and it felt like hours—days have passed since Cyra arrived. Thoughts about some short magic man in a tunic went to the back of her mind. She talked with her friends, siblings, reconciled with Conner and Kaldur, who took turns lifting her up in bone-crushing hugs.
Cyra couldn't help but think she was having a good day until her hand brushed a piece of hair behind her ear—her ear, which shouldn't exist. She facepalmed as she realized just how easy she had forgotten everything.
Nice willpower, Lantern, Cyra scoffed at herself.
She paused in the middle of the dance floor, his arms as crossed as her face. She opened her mouth and yelled, "Hey! Stop it! Shut it down! All of it!"
Everyone turned to her, their heads tilted.
"Cyra, what's wrong?" M'gann asked, her concerned mirroring that of the others.
Cyra wasn't taking the bait. "Reveal yourself, you puny toad! I'm done playing your stupid mind games and I'm ready to punch something!"
She demonstrated by punching the palm of her hand. The crowd murmured uneasily, but at seeing Cyra's steely expression, they slowly faded out like ghosts, leaving a certain knee-high elf in the middle of the room.
"Geez, kid, you should take what I give you. We didn't even get to the feast."
"Feast?" Cyra pondered but shook her head. "I'm not hungry. My stomach is full of deceit."
"I've been watching you long enough to know you're always hungry."
"I've known you long enough to know that everything you do is a lie."
"Hey, when I can make everything happen, it's not a lie. Just a new truth. You don't seem to understand my powers. All of this, it's real. I made it this way. Welcome to reality, the thing that is more flexible than a rubber sock."
Cyra gritted her teeth, her eyes flickering around. There was no way she'd ever let this whack show—no matter how wonderful it may be—be her reality.
"No," she stated. "The world's not supposed to revolve around me. All of this—it's nothing. Absolutely nothing—crap. I don't want to have control over everything, then I'd never know if what someone is telling me, what's happening, is my choices or if my subconscious is just influencing everything around me."
"What's wrong with that?" He said with wide eyes, looking back and forth as if looking for confirmation. "You can do whatever you want, have whatever you want. Who cares if it's your messed up version of reality or not? Either way, it happens. You can never be hurt any way again.
"I don't want to be the coach of the game, I want to be a player," Cyra said.
The man scoffed. "You're so lame! I thought we were besties!"
"I don't even know your name!" Cyra exclaimed.
"Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you. I'm Mr. Mxyzptlk!"
The name an old bell.
"Mr. What?"
"Mxyzptlk!"
"Can you spell that?"
"M-X-Y-Z-P-T-L-K."
"Uh," Cyra hummed, a dumb look numbing her features. "How about you try it backward?"
"Sure, K-L-T-P-Z-Y-X-M—wait! No!" Rage twisted up Mr. Mxyzptlk's face to pure ugliness. Cyra jolted back away from him, the room's dance floor disappearing, cracks appearing on the walls like a broken television screen.
"How did you know to do that?" Mr. Mxyzptlk screamed. A black vortex had opened behind him, tugging at his jester suit. His pointed shoes ran wildly in the air fighting against the pull.
"Wally told me a joke about you once," Cyra's vexing smirk lit up her eyes dangerously. "He said you used to mess with Superman, that you had some weird name and was some magical elf or something—trick you into saying your name backward and poof! For someone with the power to change the time, you should really pay more attention to the past. Nice to know I'm on Big Blue's level though."
"You rat! You sniveling, vile, disgusting—" Mr. Mxyzptlk continued to rant as his fingers clawed at the edges of the black hole that had absorbed his waist, reminding Cyra of a certain puddle of quicksand.
"Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. Just shut up and get traught," Cyra smirked, then her mouth fell open as she realized that a certain little bird had been rubbing off on her. She'd have to cleanse herself of that.
"No! Please, help me!" He pleaded. It looked like his old grin had been completely sucked off his face.
A metaphorical light bulb lit up above Cyra's head. Her hand shot out and grasped Mr. Mxyzptlk's forcefully, squeezing his hand with much more force than necessary but Cyra figured this intergalactic being could take it.
"Why me?" she asked, her eyes frosting over. "You could have picked anyone in the Universes—anyone, ever, but you picked me. There are other Green Lanterns, so that's not it. I don't even have powers and I'm not the most creative person on Earth, let alone everywhere. Why did you pick me?"
Mr. Mxyzptlk glared strongly, his eyes scanning Cyra as if she was telling some joke that even she didn't get.
"Because in the future, you're going to be something great—more powerful than anything, especially some weak old ring and I wanted to get on the train and ride it all the way to the top."
Then, with a slurp, Mr. Mxyzptlk was swallowed into the back hole, leaving Cyra alone.
The next time she blinked, Cyra was back on the beach.
The sun was brushing the water, causing the blue ripples to turn an orangish-purple. A seagull squeaked in the distance and there were no signs of little magicians or monkeys. Conner and Kaldur were laying on the sand, jolting away as if they had fallen asleep on a peaceful vacation. Cyra's shoes were soaking up the salt water, but she didn't mind, relieved that everything was back to normal.
Conner slipped to his feet, kicking up sand. His eyes were wide and crazed as he jumped around in a circle. He raged, "Where are they?"
"You really have monkey-phobia," Cyra smirked, looking back out to sea. "They're gone. Everything's chill now."
"How?" Kaldur asked, getting to his feet and brushing off the sand. "A second ago I was—" he shivered.
Cyra patted her chest with a smug grin. "All thanks to the best superhero ever, of course. I told you. You guys can't handle my reality."