The Justice League had faced gods before. They had faced reality-warpers, ancient cosmic entities, beings older than time itself. So when the Watchtower alarms screamed about an unknown energy signature larger than a solar flare appearing just outside Earth’s atmosphere, everyone assumed the worst.
Superman was first into the observation deck and froze. Floating in the void beyond the glass was a figure wreathed in green starlight. He looked humanoid but vast in a way that made the mind stumble. Space bent around him like a river around a rock. Nebulae swirled in his long white hair. Tiny stars blinked in the dark fabric of his cloak as though sewn from the night sky itself. His pale skin glowed a pale blue like floating ice. His glowing green eyes were fixed solely on Superman. Then on Supergirl. Then on Jon, who had been visiting the Watchtower that day.
The stranger made a sound, a tiny, broken gasp. “Oh,” he whispered and then he started crying.
“League formation—” Batman barked.
Too late. The being vanished and reappeared in the center of the Watchtower. There was no boom, no flash, no warning—one second empty space, the next ancient power in the room.
Before anyone could react, he scooped up Superman, Supergirl, and Jon. All three Kryptonians were suddenly bundled into his arms in a crushing, glowing embrace.
Green Lantern actually choked.
The being was openly sobbing. “My babies—” he cried, clutching them close. “My little star-born babies, you lived—some of you lived—”
Superman, pinned and bewildered, managed, “I’m sorry, what—?”
The being nuzzled the top of his head. “You smell like Krypton.”
Everything stopped. The room went dead silent.
Supergirl’s eyes widened. “How do you know Krypton?”
The being pulled back just enough to stare at her with wet, luminous eyes. “How do I know—?” His voice cracked. “Beloved, I made Krypton.”
“…you what?” Hal Jordan asked.
The being sniffled, still refusing to release the Kryptonians. “I made Krypton,” he repeated softly, like it should be obvious. “It was my first planet.”
Superman stared. “You’re saying…” he said slowly, carefully, “you created my homeworld?”
The being’s expression turned impossibly tender. “With my own hands,” he whispered.
Suddenly the observation deck vanished. No, it shifted. Stars exploded around them. Reality peeled back like a curtain. They stood now in open cosmos, yet somehow still breathed, still lived, suspended in a memory made manifest.
The being smiled shakily. “I remember every world I have ever shaped,” he said. “Every star ignited. Every asteroid spun. Every moon tucked into orbit.” He points to the him in the memory and they watched a being so old create a world.
Dust gathered in his palm. They watched as it swirled before it was compressed. A tiny planet formed there, spinning gently over his skin.
“My name is Phantom,” he said. “Ancient of Space. Creator of Worlds.”
The miniature planet dissolved into glittering cosmic dust.
“And Krypton…” His voice softened into something heartbreakingly fond. “Krypton was my first.”
He waved his hand and it showed a vision of a newborn world taking shape in darkness. Molten oceans cooling beneath crimson skies. Continents rising. The first rains. The first forests. The first creatures. The first people.
Phantom watched it all with tears in his eyes. “I spent so long on it,” he whispered. “I wanted it to be perfect. I was so proud when life first bloomed. I cried for a week when the first child was born beneath Rao’s light.”
Supergirl’s breath hitched. Superman looked like someone had struck him. Jon was in awe
“But after creation,” Phantom continued, voice trembling, “I could not interfere. None of us can. We make. We watch. We love from afar.”
The vision shifted and it showed Krypton but it was older, advanced, and unstable. There were cracks spreading through its core. There was fire and destruction and the planet was no more.
Phantom crumpled to his knees. “I watched it die,” he whispered. “And I thought-" he gasps, "-I thought all my little ones were gone.”
Jon’s face softened. “You mourned us?”
Phantom looked at him like the question itself hurt. “As every parent does when they loose a child.”
He reached out with trembling fingers and touched each of their faces with reverence. “You carry the scent of my first sunrise,” he whispered.
Superman broke. No one had ever spoken of Krypton like that. Not as a lost civilization. Not as a tragedy. But as something loved before it even existed. Superman’s eyes shone.
“You remember it all?” he asked quietly.
Phantom smiled through tears. “Every mountain ridge I carved. Every ocean trench. Every mineral vein beneath the crust. I remember where I placed each continent because I thought the shape looked nice from orbit.”
Hal muttered, “That is the most insane thing I’ve ever heard.”
Batman, somehow still functioning, narrowed his eyes. “If you are truly a creator-level cosmic entity, why reveal yourself now?”
Phantom’s expression softened. “Because I smelled Krypton.” He hugged the three Kryptonians closer. “I had resigned myself to grief.” His voice cracked again. “Then suddenly—there it was. My world. My first world. On living souls.”
Superman’s composure shattered completely. He wrapped his arms around Phantom. The Ancient of Space froze.
“You made my home,” Clark whispered.
“With everything I have.”
Superman swallowed hard. “Then… thank you.”
Phantom made a soft, broken sound.
Batman pinched the bridge of his nose. “We are not dealing with this in the briefing room,” he muttered.
“No,” Diana said softly, smiling as she watched Phantom cradle the Kryptonians like hatchlings. “I believe we are witnessing a family reunion.”
Jon grinned. “Does this make him our space grandpa?”
Phantom gasped dramatically. “I am FAR too youthful and radiant to be a grandfather.”
“You’re ancient,” Batman said flatly.
And for the first time since Krypton died—
The one who made it was no longer mourning alone. Far above Earth, in the silent dark between stars, the creator of Krypton held the last children of his beloved first world close and wept tears of joy into their hair. His planet had not died completely. Some part of it had survived and he would treasure that miracle forever.
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