Hawkgirl: Caged Bird

• Kendra Saunders is a struggling single new mother who lives in Louisiana. Her parents died when she was very young and she was raised by her abusive Grandfather who she does not speak with anymore. She got pregnant with her daughter, Mia, after a random one-night stand. Mia’s dad is not in the picture. Kendra works very hard with two jobs to care for her infant. One night, while she was working at a hotel, her boss allowed her to work another shift because somebody called in sick. Anxious for the opportunity to get a little more cash, Kendra says yes but asks if she can use the phone to call and check in with the babysitter since Kendra doesn’t have a cell phone. On the phone, the barely-qualified teenage girl says it's a school night but Kendra begs her to stay, she will get paid after all. She agrees and Kendra works the late shift.

• The golden sands of Kahndaq stretched beneath the burning sun, but in its capital, a new empire is rising. At the heart of it all, seated upon a throne of gilded steel, is Queen Bee. She reclined lazily, draped in shimmering silks. Attendants swarmed around her, fanning her with massive feathered fans, offering delicate fruits from platters carved from obsidian. The people of Kahndaq toiled beneath her rule, sculpting monuments in her honor. A drone-like hum resonated through the chamber, emanating from her very presence. It was soft, almost imperceptible, yet powerful an unseen frequency that dictated the men of her empire. She observed the progress with satisfaction. Black Adam is gone, now feeling the confidence to serve as the figurehead of the nation. Kahndaq is hers. But what is a queen without a king? From the shadows behind her throne, a towering figure stepped forward, his presence alone was enough to silence the murmuring ministers around them. Golden armor gleamed in the flickering torchlight, his massive wings folded against his back in quiet restraint. Hawkman. Reborn in this region, nearly half a century ago, this was no longer the proud warrior of the Justice Society. Once-defiant to powerful regimes, now subservient to one. His eyes, barely flickering with recognition, the enforcer of the Queen’s empire. The mighty hawk had been caged.

• Late into the early morning, Kendra finally gets off work and takes the bus back home to her single-wide trailer. After getting off at the park bus stop, she can’t help but passively notice the strobing blue and red lights of a police car. Nothing out of the ordinary around here, she thinks. But her dismissal swells into concern as she walks closer, she realizes the lights, they are coming from her unit. Her tired trudge turns into a sprint as she desperately tries to get home to Mia. An officer stops her as she tries to run into the unit. She pounds on his arms, “This is my house! My daughter’s in there,” she cries out. The police officer goes from direct action to despondent compassion. “Ma'am,” he begins, “We are sorry to inform yo--” “No! No, she isn’t don’t say that!” Kendra cries out, breaking the officer’s hold and storming into the house. Another officer talking to the babysitter and an EMT stand on either side of Mia’s crib but Kendra shows no fear, racing to hold her child. The officer holds her back and brings Kendra to the ground. On her way down, Kendra catches a glimpse of her daughter, although it was only a fraction of a moment, the image of her daughter clung to her thoughts like it has always been there. Cold, lifeless, mouth agape. Kendra has no daughter, not anymore. She sobs. Even with everything Kendra has been through in life, Kendra has never felt this much sorrow and desperation before. Kendra whips her head towards the teenage babysitter, “YOU!” She wails, “How could you let this happen!?” The young woman, already in tears herself, can not respond. The EMT speaks on her behalf, “It wasn’t her fault. SIDs, sudden infant death syndrome. This is nobody’s fault.” Kendra’s voice shrinks smaller through her tears, “no, it was mine.”

• We cut to Rann where Thanagarian Commander Shayera Hol stands talking about security protocols to officers in her command center. Their stern dictation is cut short by a cylinder of light beams that look like a yellow cascade of icicles. It is the familiar shine of a Zeta beam that drops Adam Strange in its place. The three hawks present grip their weapons firmly, preparing for battle. Adam, last seen by us bleeding out from Lobo’s hook, now adorns an advanced-looking suit. Shayera yells in a demanding voice, “Who are you?” Adam sternly remarks, “Of course you don’t even remember. Your kind must truly be the most heartless creatures known to the Universe.” Shayera righteously responds, “I do not waste the time to learn the name of every worm beneath my boot,” before lunging forward, her axe lifted high above her head to remove his. Before the axe lands, yet another zeta beam appears and engulfs them both. The two are teleported high above the planet Rann, past the point of its atmosphere where air exists. Shayera’s axe swings down, missing Adam before her eyes grow and she clenches her throat, unable to breathe. Adam responds through his space helmet, “Well, this worm has a hold of some cool tricks now.” Shayera feels herself fading, but before she loses consciousness, her tactical instincts take over, boosting herself forward and lifting her axe back up, shattering Adam Strange’s helmet. The air is immediately vacated from Adam’s suit and out of panic, teleports them somewhere new, somewhere random. The pair reappear through the yellow shine on a desert planet, still without an atmosphere. Although both are still struggling to survive, Shayera uses her axe handle to grab onto Adam’s neck, making sure he won’t be able to teleport without her. Unable to focus and desperate to survive, Adam calls forth another zeta beam to teleport them somewhere random again. They appear on a world with desolate gray spires but still no atmosphere. Shayera’s grip remains tight on Adam’s neck and his face begins to turn purple. He musters as much focus as he has left to get them somewhere he has a change. He will not let his final mission fail. He focuses his concentration on one place he knows quite well. The golden sheen appears and reappears again. The combatants find themselves just below the clouds, falling through a sky rich in oxygen. His home planet, Earth. Shayera feels the air enter her lungs and breathes in relief. They continue to plummet, accelerating downwards towards the ground. Adam throws his head back into the jaw of Shayera behind him. The shock causes her to lose her grip and Adam slips free, finally able to breathe once more. A sense of relief felt too late as Adam Strange slams back first into the soil, sunken into a crater of his own making. Shayera descends from above on golden wings above her attacker. “A worm in the dirt. How fitting.” Shayera quips. Adam lies gasping and bloody, body barely able to move. Hawkwoman lifts her head up, scanning the environment, trying to make sense of what planet she has found herself in. “Where did you take us, you sli--” her question cut short by the firing of Adam’s laser blaster still holstered on his hip. Coughing up blood, Adam gets out, “your final resting place. I made a vow to avenge my love, even if it was the last thing I do.” The life fades from Adam’s eyes and Shayera falls to the dirt. Both have died.

• The trailer of Kendra Saunders lays painfully silent. Kendra sat hunched over in the dim glow of the kitchen light, the cheap bulb flickering in its socket like it too was struggling to hold on. The air was thick, stagnant, suffocating. The weight of her sorrow pressed down on her like an anchor, pulling her deeper, deeper into the abyss. The knife in her trembling hand felt heavy, its edge gleaming as she traced it along her wrist. Her breath was shallow, her thoughts a whisper. “Mia is gone. There’s nothing left. Nothing left to fight for. Nothing left to save.” Her fingers tightened around the handle. “I’m sorry.” A sharp inhale. A clean, precise drag of steel against skin. A bloom of warmth. Darkness rushed in. Complete nothingness. But then… light. Not the peaceful glow she expected. No, this was something else. A force. A presence. It slammed into her chest like a thunderclap, her body arching violently as she felt divine energy surge through her veins. Her eyes snapped open, and she gasped, alive. She lurched forward, her breath coming in frantic bursts. Her hands flew to her wrists, expecting blood, expecting pain, but there was not. Only closed wounds. Prevalent bolstering scars. She tripped on her own feet, disoriented, her mind clouded with unfamiliar sensations. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, but it wasn’t hers. It felt stronger, heavier, like the echo of another soul pulsing alongside her own. Was this Heaven? She turned sharply, her breath hitching. “Mia?” She ran to the crib, her fingers gripping the edge so tightly her knuckles went white. Still empty. Then, the visions came. Flashes of chaotic war. Angels with swords clashing in the heavens. Winged warriors locked in brutal battle, their cries piercing the air. Alien landscapes bathed in fire and blood. The rage of a people lost to time. The desperation of a warrior’s final breath. Kendra staggered, clutching her head as the memories crashed into her like a tidal wave. But they weren’t hers. Through the haze, one name burned into her mind like a brand. She hears a man’s voice call in desperation, “Shayera!” This wasn’t salvation or a second chance. This wasn’t Heaven. It’s a curse. This is Hell.

• Back in Kahndaq, a hush fell over the assembled crowd, a sea of fearful faces watching as yet another bound man was forced to his knees before the throne. Queen Bee lounged upon her seat of gold, fingers lazily tracing the rim of a goblet. She smirked as she lifted a hand commanding, “Proceed.” Without hesitation, Hawkman stepped forward, moving like a phantom. In his grip, his Nth metal mace was unwavering, an executioner’s weapon ready to fall at his queen’s command. The leader of a neighboring country whimpered, muttering frantic prayers in a language few in the crowd understood. Hawkman did not hear it, as he only heard her. Hawkman raised his mace. But then he felt it. A wave rippled through his very soul. Something else inside him beyond the haze of her influence. A distant familiar presence felt somehow impossibly close. Like a name he had long since forgotten, whispering in the back of his mind. His grip faltered. His mace hovered in the air, caught between command and struggle. His stoic heart pounded and his breathing quickened. Then, a voice heard not in his ears, but inside him, “Katar…” His eyes flickered as his gaze lifted out of the palace toward the horizon. His hands trembled. “What is this?” Queen Bee scoffed. “Hesitation?” She worried, cracks in her control. Her perfect weapon wavering. She sat up, her jaw tightening as her voice slithered into his mind, wrapping around his thoughts like chains reforged. “Khufu, my lucky King” she cooed, her words dripping with honeyed venom. “You are mine.” Hawkman gasped, the presence, that feeling, began to fade, smothered beneath the weight of her will. Queen Bee rose from her throne, descending toward him with slow, deliberate steps. She placed a single hand beneath his chin, tilting his face upward to meet hers. “You serve me,” she whispered, pressing her influence deeper into his mind, crushing whatever will had begun to stir. “You live for me. You kill for me.” Hawkman’s amber eyes flickered once more, then dulled completely, the fire within snuffed out. His body stiffened. The mace, still raised, fell. The execution was carried out. Queen Bee smiled. Her king was hers once more.

• Kendra paced the cramped space of her trailer, bare feet dragging against the warped linoleum floor. Every inch of her skin crawled with an unseen force, an unnatural heat radiating from within, like something inside her was trying to escape. She clutched the edge of the kitchen counter, her fingers digging into the cheap laminate. The weight in her chest wasn’t fading, it was growing. Surprisingly a white-hot pain lanced through her back, seizing her body. Legs buckling and she crashes to the floor. Her vertebrae starts shifting and reshaping. Something grew beneath her skin, pushing, tearing, breaking free as she screamed. The flesh of her back split. With a shluck, the appendage burst forth long and feathered. Another followed. Her mind became fractured under the sheer intensity of it all. Then her eyes changed, shifted to amber. Kendra Saunders was gone. Shayera Hol stood in her place. She staggered to her feet, disoriented, eyes darting around the dim trailer. Her brow furrowed, her fingers twitching at her sides. “Where…?” Her gaze fell upon the crib. Empty. A flash of memories went through Shayera’s head that were not hers, pain that did not belong to her. A baby. A mother. A Grandfather... Death. Abuse. Loss. This wasn’t her past or her pain. Two souls now linked together as one. But still, she felt a pull. A tether, deep in her very being, magnetic and unyielding. It was impossible, he was gone, lost to time, lost to war. She had made peace with it, with the idea that she would never see him again. Yet she feels his presence now, “Katar,” she longs. Kendra then leaks back into the driver’s seat. Her disassociation becoming less so. Whatever is happening, is beginning to feel less unbalanced. Despite not knowing why, she feels like it is her destiny to follow the call. Her wings flexed instinctively, testing their strength. The pull felt strong and instinctive. Wherever he was, she would find him. Without another thought, Shayera stepped out into the night. With a single powerful beat of her wings, she took to the skies, following the call of her soul mate, wherever it would lead.

• In the Kahndaqi palace, Hawkman stood at the base of the throne platform. Something was wrong. The fog in his mind was thinning, the once-unbreakable hold of his queen’s will weakening with every passing minute. A presence, distant but unmistakable, was drawing closer. A feeling so familiar, so deeply ingrained in the very core of his being, that it sent a shiver through him. Queen Bee watched him carefully from her throne, her fingers tapping against the gilded armrest. She could sense the change. Her influence, once absolute, was slipping. “You hesitate,” she observed, her voice sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade. “That is unlike you, my king.” Hawkman’s jaw tightened. The title no longer felt right. He straightened, looking her directly in the eye. “What are we doing here?” Queen Bee’s expression flashed with irritation behind her golden gaze. “We are ruling, as we were meant to.” Hawkman shook his head. “No. We’re conquering. Executing those who stand against you.” His voice was steady, stronger than it had been in weeks. “This isn’t justice.” Queen Bee’s lips curled in displeasure. “Justice? What do you know of justice, warrior? You are a weapon. My weapon. You do not question. You do not doubt.” He took a step back. “I remember doubting before. I remember being more before.” His fists clenched at his sides as the haze in his mind thinned even further. The pull, HER presence was closer now. So close he could feel it humming in his bones. Queen Bee stood up, the irritation on her face twisting into something much darker. She descended the steps of her throne towards him. “You were mine,” she said with disdain. “And yet, I see it in your eyes. Something is holding you back now. Something new? Or something old?” Hawkman’s breath caught in his throat. Queen Bee’s eyes burned with fury. “I will not share my throne. If I cannot control you…” She lifted her chin, her voice ringing with authority. “Then you are a traitor.” The hall doors slammed open, and pounding boots filled the chamber. Kahndaqi soldiers poured in armed with rifles and spears, with eyes filled with unwavering obedience. Queen Bee’s voice was cold, final. “Kill him.” The soldiers raised their weapons. Hawkman’s grip tightened on his mace. The last remnants of control snapped.

• Hawkman moved like a hurricane, his mace a blur of destruction as he tore through the ranks of Kahndaq’s elite soldiers. A rifle was raised, he shattered it with a single swing. A spear thrust toward him, he caught it mid-air, snapped it like a twig, and sent its wielder sprawling with a devastating backhand. Gunfire rang out, but his wings carried him in sharp, controlled bursts, weaving through the onslaught. Still, the numbers were overwhelming. Even as he broke through lines of soldiers, more closed in. Queen Bee’s influence fell over the entire army. The weight of battle-tested his endurance. In the heat of the battle, he felt something strong in his chest. His gaze lifted past the fighting, past the palace walls, to the skies beyond. Against the backdrop of the sun, an angelic figure descended from the heavens. A woman with wings spread wide, golden in the light. But it wasn’t what he saw that mattered, it was what he felt. A connection as ancient as time. Shayera. His moment in awe nearly cost him two guards lunged, spears poised for the kill. But before they could strike, the angel in the sky moved. Kendra dove into the fray, body twisting through the air with an ease that she didn’t imagine possible. She weaved through the chaos like she had done this a thousand times before, except she hadn’t. She didn’t know how she was doing it, only that she could. Her foot connected with the first soldier’s chest, sending him sprawling. Before she even had time to think, her body pivoted, her wings tucking instinctively as she dodged a blade aimed for her mighty wings. A counterstrike followed, her fist crashing into her attacker’s jaw, knocking him unconscious before he even hit the ground. The part of her mind that was still Kendra Saunders barely had time to register the movements, the precision, the instinct. But the part that was Shayera Hol it knew. She landed beside Hawkman, struggling to recognize what had just happened. Hawkman turned to her, heavy chest rising and falling, eyes locked onto hers with something between disbelief and relief. Kendra swallowed hard, her own breath unsteady. She didn’t know what to say, what to think. But as she looked into his eyes, something clicked into place inside her. Like she had known him forever. 

• Hawkman took a step toward her, his lips parting, ready to say something before pain exploded through his thigh. He roared as his leg collapsed beneath him.. His hand instinctively clutched at the weapon buried in his flesh an ornate axe. Queen Bee stood across the palice walkway, as she seethed. “You belonged to me,” she spat. “And now, I will rip your wings from your back and mount them on my throne.” Kendra didn’t hesitate. Her hand shot out, grasping the heavy handle of Hawkman’s fallen mace. It felt right in her grip. She lunged forward, swinging with the force of every muscle in her body. The heavy butt of the mace’s handle slammed into Queen Bee’s jaw. The tyrant’s eyes went wide in shock as her jaw bone cracked and she fell to into the dust out cold. Kendra exhaled, “That’s enough out of you.” Hawkman looks at her with a smile gritted through the pain of his bleeding leg. He says, “The nation of Kahndaq will be able to find it’s own footing now. She won’t be talking to anyone any time soon.” Hawkwoman looked at him, “So what do we do with her?” He smirked, “We have a dungeon.” Kendra reciprocated his smile. “You came back to me,” he murmured. “After all this time, all these lives… we found each other again.” Kendra awkwardly stiffened as he continued with a desperate longing. “This is destiny. You know it. You feel it.” His voice grew softer, more certain. “We don’t have to fight it anymore. Our hearts have been apart for too long.” She swallowed, feeling the weight of his words settle over her. And maybe, if she had been just Shayera Hol, she would have agreed without hesitation. Maybe she would have fallen into his arms and let fate carry them away. But she wasn’t just Shayera. She was Kendra Saunders, too. She crouched beside him, her expression unreadable. “I do feel it,” she admitted, pressing a palm lightly against his chest, over his heart. “But I also feel me.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “For once in my life, I have a say in what happens to me. And I’m not letting destiny, or fate, or whatever else outside of my control, decide for me.” Hawkman’s brows lifted in sadness, “Kendra…” She shook her head. “If destiny is real, if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.” But for now, let’s just start with being allies.” Hawkman looked at her, pain flickering through his expression. But after a beat, he gave a small, knowing nod. “Allies,” he echoed.

• In a post-credit scene, we see the Thanagarian officers Commander Shayera Hol was talking to earlier. They are being questioned by a heavily armored and highly decorated member of the Thanagarian empire. The officers are not answering his questions in a way he likes but he firmly stands his ground. She was one of their top agents, an asset they cannot afford to lose. No matter how long it takes, they will find Shayera.