Superman: The Lost Warrior

Zara's POV

We finally arrive at the venue, and Mr. Wayne hands each of us strange, shell-like devices.

"What's this?" I ask, holding it between my fingers and inspecting it.

"We can use them to communicate. Just place it in your ear," Mr. Wayne explains.

Barry exits the car on the left side, adjusting his waiter's uniform as Ms. Diana leans closer to me. "If anything goes wrong, don't hesitate to ask for help," she says, squeezing my hand gently.

Before I can respond, the car door opens, and Kara steps out first, followed by Damian. Damian turns and offers his hand to help me out of the car. As we walk toward the entrance, he leans down slightly to whisper, "Just act like you're used to this."

Damian's POV

The grand ballroom is bustling with activity as we step inside. Crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceilings, their light reflecting off the polished marble floors. I immediately begin scanning the room, taking mental notes of exits, potential threats, and familiar faces among the guests.

"I'll head over there," Kara whispers, motioning toward the west side of the room before slipping away into the crowd. That leaves Zara and me alone, but it's better this way; fewer people mean less risk of exposure.

"Have you seen Mr. Hugo yet?" Zara asks, glancing up at me.

I shake my head, still scanning the room. "Not yet," I reply as we make our way toward the refreshments table. Blending in is crucial, and standing idle might attract unwanted attention.

Zara picks up a glass of sparkling water while I continue observing. "Where is this guy?" I think, my eyes darting to every corner of the room. Then, the orchestra starts playing a slow waltz. The sudden change in atmosphere catches both of us off guard.

"What are they doing?" Zara asks, her brows furrowed as she watches the couples take to the dance floor.

"Dancing," I reply simply.

Zara gives me a puzzled look, but before she can protest, I grab her hand. "Which is what we should be doing too," I add, pulling her toward the dance floor.

"What are you doing? We're supposed to be looking out for him," she whispers sharply as we begin to waltz.

"Blending in," I whisper back. "If he's here, the last thing we want is to stick out." I spin her gently before catching her with ease. Her steps are hesitant at first, but she quickly matches my rhythm.

The music ends, and applause echoes through the hall as everyone returns to mingling. Just as we're about to leave the dance floor, a deep voice cuts through the noise.

"There you are. I've been searching for you everywhere."

If you're enjoying this story, be sure to check out my other one:

Reincarnated into My Favorite Videogame.