Reborn as flatline and I have the powers of Rogue Sun in DC

A couple of days had passed since Nika's rebirth into the DC universe. She spent most of that time glued to her phone, scrolling endlessly for information, trying to make sense of this new reality.

Now, she lay stretched across the couch, phone resting lightly in her hand as she absentmindedly flicked through the screen.

Across from her, in an armchair, her sister Mila sat reading a magazine. The room was quiet, except for the occasional rustle of pages and the faint hum of the TV in the background.

Mila lowered the magazine just enough to peer over the edge, her sharp eyes locking onto Nika.

"What are you even doing?" Mila asked, breaking the silence.

Nika didn't look up. "What do you mean?" she replied without much thought, still focused on her phone.

Mila set the magazine down completely. "You've been acting weird lately."

That made Nika's fingers pause for a brief second before she continued scrolling. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Mila gestured vaguely toward her. "For three days, you've been on your phone non-stop. You barely leave the house. Don't you think that's a little… I don't know, suspicious?"

Nika finally looked up, her brows knitting together.

"So? That doesn't mean anything. Maybe I just don't feel like going out," she said, her voice calm but tight.

Mila didn't let it drop. "Yeah, well… it's not like you to do that. You barely even watch TV with us anymore."

Before Nika could respond, footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Their parents entered the room, drawn by the conversation.

"What's going on here?" their mom asked, crossing her arms as she glanced between the two girls.

Mila wasted no time.

"Mom, Dad—Nika's been acting weird. She hasn't left the house for three days. She's just been stuck to her phone." Mila's tone wasn't exactly accusatory, but there was definitely concern laced in her voice.

Their father frowned, stepping closer. His gaze fell on Nika.

"What's this about? You alright?"

Nika sighed, sitting up slightly. "It's nothing. I just… haven't been feeling well lately, so I decided to stay home. It's not like I'm doing anything wrong."

Her mother wasn't convinced. "For three days straight?"

Nika shrugged. "I'm fine."

"Then what have you been doing on your phone all this time?"

Nika hesitated. She hadn't meant to sound defensive, but the words came out sharper than she intended.

"It's none of your business."

Silence stretched between them. Mila raised a brow but said nothing, watching the exchange unfold like a spectator at a tennis match.

Their father's voice hardened. "What have you been doing, Nika?"

Nika's grip on the phone tightened slightly.

"I told you—it's nothing."

"Then why haven't you put it down once?" Mila chimed in.

Nika's patience began to fray. "I'm free to do whatever I want with my phone. It's not your business."

Her father's expression darkened.

"That's enough. Give me the phone," he said, holding out his hand. "If you've been hiding in this house for three days, I want to know why."

Her mom took a step forward, her voice rising with frustration. "Give it to him, Nika. I don't know what's gotten into you, but if you're hiding something, we're going to find out."

The sharp edge in her mother's tone made Nika tense. Why were they overreacting this much

"What the hell are you even saying?" Nika snapped, raising her voice.

"That's enough."

A calm but commanding voice rang out from the kitchen, cutting through the argument.

Everyone turned.

Nika's grandmother stepped into the room, drying her hands with a kitchen towel. Despite the tension crackling in the air, her face remained serene—unbothered by the heat of the conversation.

"Stop bothering Nika," her grandmother said, her tone brooking no argument.

Nika's mom opened her mouth to respond, but her grandmother raised a hand.

"Quiet."

That single word was enough to make her mother's lips press together in silence.

Nika's father shifted uncomfortably but didn't argue. Mila shrank back into her chair, crossing her arms with a sigh.

Their grandmother turned to Nika, her stern gaze softening slightly. "Come help me in the kitchen, will you?"

Nika didn't need to be asked twice. She stood up quickly, pocketing her phone, and followed her grandmother into the kitchen, feeling the tension in her chest slowly begin to ease as they left the room behind.

After leaving the living room, Nika followed her grandmother into the kitchen, grateful for the brief escape. The sound of running water filled the space as her grandmother began rinsing dishes, and for a moment, the tension from earlier felt distant—like it belonged to another house entirely.

But as the silence stretched between them, Nika knew the conversation wasn't over yet.

"Are you okay?" her grandmother asked softly as she rinsed another dish.

"Yeah, there's nothing to worry about," Nika replied, her voice steady but distant.

Without another word, her grandmother set down the dish and wrapped her arms around Nika in a warm hug. Nika froze for a moment, feeling the weight of her grandmother's quiet affection sink in.

I'm really going to miss this.

Her grandmother never showed up in Flatline's backstory. When Nika realized she had a grandmother on her mother's side, it caught her off guard. But now, standing here in the kitchen, she was grateful for her presence.

Her grandma was the only person in the family who never judged her. She didn't whisper behind closed doors or cast side glances at Nika's drawings or interests.

She was the closest person to her.

After a long moment, Nika pulled away, giving her a small smile. They returned to the sink, working side by side in comfortable silence.

Her grandmother was the first to speak.

"Nika… I saw you grow up with my own eyes," she said quietly, scrubbing a plate. "I know you better than anyone. And I know what you've been doing on that phone."

Nika froze mid-wipe, her grip tightening on the dish towel.

She doesn't know me.

As much as Nika liked this version of her grandmother, the memories weren't hers. She wasn't Flatline, and her grandmother couldn't possibly know her the way she thought.

She forced herself to keep moving. "Oh? Then what was I doing on my phone?" she asked, trying to play it cool.

Her grandmother arched a brow, a hint of teasing in her voice. "You're planning to run away."

Nika's head snapped toward her, eyes wide.

Her grandmother simply smiled.

"You honestly thought I wouldn't know?" she said, rinsing the last plate. "I thought we knew each other better than that."

There was a softness in her tone, but it didn't erase the weight in her words.

Nika opened her mouth to deny it, but the words felt hollow.

Her grandmother didn't wait for her to speak. "Nika," she continued, her voice gentle but firm, "you know how dangerous the world is out there. You can't just run away."

Nika set the plate down with a little more force than necessary.

"Grandma, I know all of that," she replied, finally letting out the frustration that had been simmering beneath the surface. "That's why I've been researching. I'm not going to just disappear. But when the moment's right—when I'm ready—I'm leaving."

Her grandmother stayed quiet, rinsing the final dish with slow, deliberate movements.

"I'm not trying to make you worry, but you heard them earlier." Nika's voice dropped, barely above a whisper. "They think I'm weird. They accused me of hiding something—like I've done something wrong just because I don't fit their idea of normal."

She swallowed hard, pressing the damp towel into her palms.

"I just want to find a place where I belong. Somewhere I can be myself—without feeling like I'm constantly being judged."

Her grandmother continued to listen, her eyes softening with each word. Even after Nika finished, she stood silently, as if turning over every piece of the conversation in her head.

The silence stretched until her grandmother finally smiled.

"Alright," she said gently, drying her hands. "I get it."

Nika blinked, caught off guard by how easily she accepted it.

"But," her grandmother added, meeting her gaze, "when that perfect moment comes, let's talk a little more about it first. Deal?"

Nika's lips twitched into a genuine smile. "Deal."

It felt good—having someone who understood.

Her grandmother clapped her hands together, shaking off the lingering heaviness in the air.

"Well," she said with a grin, "since the dishes cleaned themselves, we should probably get back before they think I'm plotting with you."

Nika laughed softly, grateful for the lightness that followed.

"Yeah, let's go."

As they walked back to the living room, Nika held onto that warmth—the one person in her family who didn't make her feel like an outsider.

And even if the rest of them drifted further away, she knew her grandmother would always stay by her side.