Her breath hitches a little as emotion wells up from within her to form a tight knot in her throat. The woman before her is so very like her mother in appearance, but for the streak of white in her hair. But the two of them couldn't have been more different. She holds onto that, and to the sight of Astra before her.

"Astra. My mother's sister." The construct's expression is placid, nowhere near as alive as the woman herself had ever truly looked. But her voice is the same, minus, well. Any hint of emotion.

'Hello, little one. How can I assist you?' If it's hard for her now, she can't imagine how Kal-El feels staring into the faces of relatives he'd never been able to meet. She swallows hard, tugs at a strand of her hair, and moves off to stand before the apparition of her aunt.

"The stars. My new friend here is looking for a world called--oh, shoot! I'm sorry." Looking back apologetically at Anakin, she tilts her head. "What is your world called?"