At over 30,000 feet in the air.
A Boeing 787 was cruising steadily above the clouds. Sitting in first class, wealthy bestselling author Richard Castle absentmindedly stirred his coffee while trying to come up with the plot for his next book.
As a classic mystery writer, getting stuck was a classic part of Castle's daily life too.
Just as he was getting nowhere and starting to wonder whether he should just abandon the book, change his pen name, and start a new series, something outside the window suddenly caught his eye.
It was a glossy black Dodge Demon.
That was right.
Castle recognized the car, because he owned one himself.
But at that moment, all he could think was that he must have bought a fake one, because the one outside his window was tearing through the clouds at at least three hundred miles per hour.
"My God…"
Castle rubbed his eyes hard, but he was not seeing things. There really was a car flying outside the plane, and he could even make out the two passengers inside.
A boy and a girl, both younger than his daughter.
"I…"
Castle's eyes went wide. He could barely speak. He grabbed a passing flight attendant, intending to ask something, but then worried he would get treated like a lunatic and end up on tomorrow's front page.
So he hesitated, forced a smile, and let the attendant go.
The next moment, the famous writer lunged at the window again, practically trying to press his whole face through the glass.
"I knew it! Back to the Future wasn't nearly bold enough!"
Castle finally recovered from the initial shock and immediately fumbled for his phone. His grip slipped, and he nearly dropped it to the floor. After a frantic little struggle, he finally secured it and let out a breath of relief.
He had just been about to praise himself for that little victory when he remembered why he had taken out the phone in the first place.
He whipped back toward the window and raised his phone.
He wanted a picture.
But just then, it was as if the people inside the flying car had noticed him. The car accelerated in an instant and shot ahead of the airplane.
"No! Come back! Get back here!"
Castle's face was practically flattened against the glass, desperate.
Missing the chance to photograph that supernatural sight and use it as an excuse for his writer's block felt like the kind of regret that would keep him awake for a week.
"Tell the pilot to speed up!"
His voice rose as he pressed the call button. Now that he was panicking, he no longer cared whether anyone thought he was crazy. He immediately started describing what he had seen.
The flight attendant only smiled and handed him a glass of red wine.
"Sir, long flights can easily make people hallucinate."
"There are no flying cars in Metropolis airspace. Only Superman, and the villains he's chasing. That's common knowledge."
Her words left Castle dumbfounded.
"That's… common knowledge?"
As a New Yorker, Castle really did not know that much about Metropolis local culture.
"It is," the pretty flight attendant replied. "You can check Superhero Popularity Hub. There's a very detailed analysis on the forum by a poster named I'm Definitely Not Batman."
"Oh, and the article from Superman Must Die is pretty good too. It says the sky over Metropolis belongs to Superman, and he won't allow anyone except himself and his little brats to touch it. Those are the exact words, by the way. Personally, I totally love Superman."
The beautiful flight attendant was clearly a devoted superhero fan.
"Superman has children?"
Castle sounded surprised.
"The forum experts are still just keyboard warriors. They aren't right about everything," she said with a smile. "Most people still think Superman couldn't possibly find a partner unless it was Supergirl."
"That does make sense."
Castle nodded thoughtfully.
The woman clearly knew who he was.
"Mr. Castle, isn't your new book supposed to be releasing very soon? You still have time to travel to Metropolis?"
Castle stiffened.
Of course, he did not want to admit his new novel currently existed as nothing more than a file folder, so he instantly let his natural talent do the work.
"I actually finished it ages ago. I just wanted to get away and relax a little."
Maybe effortlessly lying really was a required skill for every writer.
Castle's smile looked perfectly natural.
"I see."
The pretty attendant did not suspect a thing.
"Then I hope you enjoy your trip to Metropolis."
She offered her blessing.
Seeing that, Castle secretly sighed in relief and also decided to explain why he had chosen Metropolis as his destination.
"I'm sure I will. Because I'm not just traveling. I'm trying to solve an interesting mystery."
As he spoke, Castle opened his jacket slightly, revealing an envelope tucked inside.
"A mysterious detective from the Writers' Association seems to know I've been investigating the book that stole all my promotional resources, so he sent me a set of city photos of Metropolis."
Castle slid the envelope back into place.
"That really happened? Then what do you think he wants you to do?"
The beautiful attendant looked genuinely surprised.
"It really did happen, and it's fascinating, isn't it? I think it's a commission. And I think that detective wanted me to know it was a commission."
"Maybe he wants me to find someone in Metropolis. That person is probably the one who stole my publicity."
Castle still had not figured out why the detective wanted him to do this.
Beat the guy up?
Or was there some other reason?
"If he expects me to teach that well-connected little brat how to write, that would be something."
Castle fell into one of his sudden spirals of intense thinking again.
Seeing that, the attendant had no intention of disturbing him.
"If you need some inspiration, I think I'll be free after my shift tonight."
As she spoke, she slipped her number into Castle's hand.
She had not spent all that time chatting with him because she had nothing better to do.
Richard Castle was a famous millionaire. He was handsome too.
What flight attendant would not want something to happen with a man like that?
"I'm sure I will need some inspiration," Castle replied with a warm, practiced smile.
Things like this happened all the time. Castle knew exactly what she wanted.
A few babies.
Luxury goods.
A sports car.
As long as it was not the first one, he could afford it. Everyone got what they wanted.
"See you."
The pretty attendant sashayed off.
Only after she was gone did Castle finally look away.
"That car! Where the hell do you even buy a car like that?"
For all his wild thoughts, his mind still circled back to the flying Demon.
He pressed his face to the glass again and scanned the sky.
But the flying Dodge was already gone.
"Did the kids inside notice I was trying to take a picture?"
Castle could not help suspecting that whoever was inside had some kind of superpower that let them sense when someone was watching them.
But was that really the truth?
"Damn it! A Boeing! Talk about bad luck!"
Ian had not sensed anything at all. He had simply caught sight of the plane's logo and, out of pure self-preservation, told Hellcat to speed up.
"Stay farther away from planes like that. They crash when they feel like it, and there's never any warning."
He was passing on his life experience to his young little car.
"Honk, honk."
The car responded with its horn.
"Ian! Shut the window! My Dior sunglasses are going to blow away!"
Madison's hair was whipping around like a ghost in the wind because of the sudden acceleration.
"They already blew away."
She had failed to hold onto them.
"No big deal. I'll swipe you a new pair from somewhere special tonight."
Ian was an extremely practical person.
Luxury goods from the Marvel world were basically free for him to take.
"I don't wear knockoffs."
Madison looked doubtful.
"Knockoffs? Ian Kent doesn't waste time on knockoffs. Do you know how valuable my time is?"
Ian put on the stingy rich-guy expression effortlessly.
"Oh, I get it. I knew Superman had to swipe stuff while doing hero work. Otherwise how would he afford food if he spent all day out there saving the world?"
Madison's imagination was always weird.
"You can swipe some extra for me. If Black guys stole it first, and you stole it from them, that still counts as justice. I'll pay you."
She pulled out her wallet, only to find a few lonely bills left inside.
So naturally, a girl with a very low moral threshold immediately started justifying her finances.
"I still have forty-five hundred dollars in my nightstand. That was supposed to be my vacation money for next weekend."
Madison hated being seen as poor more than almost anything.
Ian, of course, would never look down on his classmate.
Whether it was four thousand, five thousand, or six thousand, it was all basically the same to him. He had a giant donation sitting in his account now.
Still, every penny counted.
That was how capitalists thought.
"Monday. You give me the money, I get your stuff. Then next weekend, don't leave the house. I'll tell everyone you spent Saturday and Sunday in the Hamptons."
Ian really did know how to create a win-win situation for other people too.
"Good idea!"
Madison slapped her knee and instantly agreed.
She had her own way of looking at things. People might be able to tell if luxury goods were fake, but no one could prove whether she had really gone to the Hamptons or not.
The cost-performance ratio was incredible.
Madison felt like her thinking had become broader.
Girls like her grew that way.
There was always someone in life who taught them how to become even more like themselves.
"Great. I'll drop you off, then I've got actual business to handle."
Ian liked dealing with people like Madison. Most people either failed to understand his brilliance or refused to admit it. Madison at least knew he was smart.
"Whoa, we're going even faster!"
Madison had just gotten used to the previous speed when the car accelerated again. The clouds outside were now streaking backward.
"If this thing flips, the airbags definitely won't save us, right?"
Even now, she was still worrying about things like that.
"Relax. Your place is right there."
The moment he said that, Hellcat started diving toward the city below.
Madison finally spotted the upscale neighborhood where her family lived.
"There! Over there!"
She pointed, trying to guide him.
"I know where your house is. You don't need to."
Ian quickly pulled her back into the car after she nearly leaned too far out the window.
"What? I don't remember you ever coming…"
Madison sounded surprised.
"Of course you don't. It was the first day of school. I checked out everyone who looked like they had future bully potential."
"Also, your mom definitely loves your dad a lot."
Ian still remembered how things had gone when he tried to stop by back then.
"She wouldn't even let me come in and eat a single orange."
He sounded genuinely moved.
Madison frowned, completely missing what he meant.
The engine roared.
Hellcat hovered ten feet above the ground.
"I've read a few books about driving. Starting and stopping burns the most fuel."
"So let's get out here."
As soon as he finished speaking, Ian grabbed Madison.
Then he jumped.
"Don't grab me by the neck or collar! This outfit was expensive! Grab my hair! I fight enough that it's durable!"
Madison screamed all the way down.
"I know. That outfit was already torn anyway. Don't think just because Ian Kent has money now you can scam me."
Ian landed with her as steadily as if he had done it a hundred times.
Then he set her down neatly.
"So let me get this straight. You think dropping me off on top of a mailbox counts as setting me down properly?"
Madison fixed her disheveled hair while sitting on the box.
"Come on. If I hadn't found somewhere for your butt to land, your legs would've kept squeezing my waist. You really are crafty."
"Finally found your chance to take advantage of me, huh?"
Ian looked at her with open disdain.
Madison rolled her eyes so hard they nearly came loose.
"What, do I need to thank you now for not telling your little simp Amy about this?"
Green tea girls could be brutal too.
"Yes. So what should you be saying?"
Ian tilted his head like he was waiting for tribute.
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
Madison ground the words out through gritted teeth.
She was breathing hard.
Ian, meanwhile, felt great.
"Such a polite little menace. I've got things to do, so I'm heading out."
"Oh, and don't try to steal my mom's cat."
He reached into Madison's arms and pulled out the orange cat.
"Damn it!"
Madison looked unwilling to give it up.
"Then at least leave me the toad!"
Her backup plan got no response either.
The next second, Ian bent his knees and launched himself straight back into the hovering Hellcat.
The engine roared, the exhaust pipes spat purple flame, and the car shot upward into the clouds.
Watching him go, along with his car, Madison stood there in shock.
"So that's how Superman flies? He just jumps really hard?"
She felt like she had just discovered a truth the whole city had somehow missed.
Her anger was gone.
Now all she could think about was whether Ian had super rabbit legs hidden in his pants.
"My God. This is huge. There's no such thing as a flying Superman after all!"
She carried that thought with her as she pushed open the door to her family's mansion, where her mother, Linda, who had once been a third-rate Hollywood actress, practically threw herself at her.
"I knew it! I knew it! My baby girl was always going to outdo me! All I ever managed was landing your rich father, and you've gone and landed a handsome alien!"
Linda shook her daughter so hard it looked like she had won the lottery.
Madison nearly got a concussion.
"What alien? Mom, what bizarre TV series have you been watching now?"
"The flying car! I saw it! That alien brought you home in a flying car!"
Linda's tone carried all the wisdom of her experience.
"When I starred in Princess of Mars vs. the Lizard Men, I learned one thing. Aliens love blonde women!"
She sounded incredibly sure of herself.
Madison did not dare ask for details. She was afraid it had actually been an adult movie.
"That's a UFO, not a KFO. No, wait, Ian wasn't even driving a UFO…"
Her words were getting tangled.
"Smart girls know how to stop talking when they don't understand something."
Linda pulled her daughter into her chest as if delivering some profound life lesson.
Madison stared blankly.
For the first time in her life, she began to suspect that maybe everything her mother had ever told her about Hollywood had been nonsense.
Maybe Ian was right.
Maybe stupidity was hereditary.
Maybe she had spent her entire life underestimating how much.
She pulled away, stared at her mother, and quietly muttered:
"I finally know why Ian keeps saying my brain's broken."
Meanwhile, high above the city, Ian was not thinking about any of that.
Hellcat was racing through the clouds again, following the direction indicated by the pointer in Ian's hand, searching for the place Death had wanted him to find.
Thankfully, it was not hard.
Before long, Hellcat was floating above an old building in the style of a convent. The pointer twisted sharply downward.
This was the place.
The structure was surrounded by dense trees, secluded and eerie. It might very well have been the headquarters of the witches Madison had mentioned.
Ian considered it.
Then, instead of going down, he smacked Hellcat and had it retreat.
The reason was simple.
He had no idea how strong a so-called Supreme Witch actually was.
And anything connected to Death clearly meant a high-level dungeon.
Definitely not the kind of thing he should try to solo.
"Death's on too high a level. Anything connected to her is bound to be trouble."
Ian trusted his instincts. If he did not rush, someone else eventually would.
That way he could wait for information to fall into his lap instead of going out and gathering it himself.
After all, activating Batman Search Engine was annoying.
"Yeah. This is the move."
His super brain approved the plan.
Hellcat carried him back through the clouds, slicing through the evening sky toward home.
He still tried to call Batman along the way.
He got an electronic voice instead.
"The number you are trying to reach has blocked you completely. Please try again if you experience difficulties. Thank you for your cooperation."
"How could he do this!"
Ian was genuinely heartbroken.
He had not even gotten his ring yet.
"Well, whatever. I'll regroup at home."
He reached the neighborhood quickly.
This was an area full of upscale detached homes. There were still a few neighbors around, but nothing he needed to worry about.
Under the cover of dusk, Hellcat slowly descended.
A few people peeked from behind curtains, but no one took pictures. No need to overreact.
Most of the nearby households belonged to the same department, and all of them were some kind of agent.
It had been that way for years.
A tiny number of officials knew Superman's identity.
The car touched down on the lawn with a soft squeal, stopping just three inches away from Lois's favorite rose bushes.
"Another inch and not even Jesus could've saved you."
Ian patted the car in warning.
Then he grabbed his backpack and stepped out.
That was when he felt a shadow fall over him.
It was Clark Kent.
The most invincible man in the world stood there with his arms folded across his chest, blocking the way.
"Where did this car come from?"
Clark's voice carried that familiar, nearly resigned helplessness. He truly could not understand why every time Ian went out, he managed to bring home something bizarre.
"It was fate? We fell in love. It loves me, I love it. Sweet, right?"
Ian did not really want to admit he had talked someone into paying him to take the car.
So he answered while not really answering.
That was the safest choice.
He was definitely not going to tell Clark that the car occasionally killed its owners.
"Sweet, right?"
Clark repeated the words flatly.
He circled the black muscle car once.
Then he stopped and pinched a dark-red strip of tissue off the trunk lid.
"This is some kind of car maintenance product?"
There was definitely a hint of a joke in his voice.
"Biologically speaking, that should count as flesh and blood. But I'm pretty sure it's not on any protected species list."
Ian answered honestly while secretly watching his father's face.
"And I was asking where the blood and flesh came from."
Clark sighed.
He had been trying to be funny.
Ian's answer had not helped.
The truth was, though, Clark's super smell had already told him the answer anyway.
He knew it was not human blood, which was the good news.
The bad news was that he apparently had no clue what Ian had done after leaving the people dealing in military contraband behind.
"It's love. Love made my little car grow flesh."
Ian sounded like he was joking, but he was actually testing whether Clark knew anything about the incident on that street.
Clark's eye twitched.
So apparently not.
Clark really had not been using x-ray vision on him.
A surprisingly respectful father, all things considered.
"So, are we going inside?"
Ian still wanted to tell him about the Supreme Witch and the new mission Death had handed him. Ideally Clark would use his super network to find him a powerful magic teacher.
"Uh…"
Clark's face changed slightly.
Ian took a step forward, only to realize Clark had not moved.
"What is it, Dad?"
Ian could tell Clark was hesitating.
"Did Mom kick you out?"
That was his best guess.
Clark shook his head, speechless for a moment.
Then he sighed.
"I talked to Jordan about his powers."
There it was.
Ian could already tell where this was going.
"He's entering the awakening phase now. Just like you did before. Though Jordan's came later than yours."
"And because of that, the two of you may not end up with exactly the same powers."
Clark seemed to emphasize that part on purpose.
Trying to fool him because he did not know enough about Kryptonians.
Ian pretended to buy it.
"And then?"
"Then…"
Clark rubbed the back of his neck.
"I may have let some things slip."
"And because of everything strange you've been doing lately, Jordan connected a few dots. He figured out that your awakening happened before his."
Clark looked genuinely annoyed with himself.
"So in other words, he guessed right."
"Yes."
Ian did not even bother pretending to be surprised.
This time he admitted it immediately.
Mostly because he was still curious what exactly his brother had said.
Clark seemed relieved by how easy that went.
"It's good you're taking it well."
He paused, then added:
"If you had come back earlier, maybe this would've gone differently."
That line made Ian pause.
"What does that mean?"
He had a very bad feeling about it.
Clark hesitated.
Then he looked away.
"Nothing. Forget it."
He changed the subject with the smoothness of a father trying to escape disaster.
"Just go inside first. And give me the pages you finished. They're asking for the manuscript."
So Clark really had come back just to collect Batman's delivery.
Ian did not even know whether to laugh or cry.
"Here."
He pulled a few pages from Hellcat.
He had written them during the flight, after all.
Watching Clark rise into the air again, manuscript in hand, Ian could not help but sigh.
"Now I see why my upbringing turned out so good. Family influence really matters."
His father's work ethic truly was incredible.
Ian turned and headed inside, dragging his backpack behind him.
The warm light of the house and the sound of the television instantly wrapped around him.
In the living room, his two older brothers were watching the news.
On the screen, Gotham was in chaos.
There were at least thirty simultaneous incidents underway.
A flash of Batman could be seen in the middle of it all.
That explained why Bruce had been demanding the rest of the pages so urgently.
His plan to bait the Joker had clearly failed.
"Figures. The Joker really pulled out the big guns this time."
Ian muttered as he watched.
Just then, Lois's voice floated over from the kitchen.
"So much for that. I stayed up all night writing, and Batman didn't even stick around in Metropolis. Total waste."
There was plenty of resentment in her tone.
Ian's scalp tingled.
He immediately held up the little gift box.
"Dear Mom, your favorite son brought you a present!"
Lois poked her head out of the kitchen.
The second she saw the cat, her eyes lit up.
She hurried over, accepted the orange kitten, and cradled it in her arms.
The cat acted obedient and curious.
No stress response at all.
Even the hardest reporter could not resist something fluffy.
"A cat like this should be expensive, right?"
Lois scratched under its chin, her tone already softening.
Any anger she had vanished as soon as her son brought her a gift.
"Not really. I skipped the middleman. I even skipped the producer."
Ian gave his polished version of the truth.
The cat in Lois's arms stared at him a few times.
He stared back.
"You stole it from the mother cat?"
"Not at all. The mom abandoned it on purpose. She must've prayed to God that I'd find it and bring it to the gentlest woman in the world."
Ian really did know how to flatter people.
Lois smiled immediately.
Then Ian glanced over toward Jordan, who had been quietly stealing looks at her the whole time.
Every time Lois looked back, Jordan turned away.
"What's wrong with Jordan?"
Ian asked casually.
He had noticed it the moment he walked in.
Lois kept stroking the cat as she replied:
"Nothing. Since you've got so much free time, why don't you come help me make dinner?"
She pulled him into the kitchen, then stuck her head back out to make sure the other boys could not hear.
"Jonathan's the oldest, but he still hasn't awakened any abilities. For his sake, keep what's going on with you and Jordan quiet for now."
That was such a classic American family move that Ian almost wanted to laugh.
This house had four superhumans in it, not counting the one who had not awakened yet.
And the only normal human was still the one with the most authority.
"Fine."
Ian nodded.
Lois smiled and went back to petting the cat.
Ian opened the fridge and started pulling out milk and bread. He was starving.
"Oh, right."
Lois's tone shifted, as if she had just remembered something.
Apparently she had not.
"Jordan said he saw some of the comics you drew. He says your understanding of Superman's abilities is way too specific."
"Suspiciously specific."
She kept her tone light.
Then she dropped the real question.
"So. Did you awaken heat vision and invulnerability too?"
Ian froze on the spot.
The milk carton stayed suspended in his hand.
He slowly turned around and saw his mother casually petting the cat, acting as if none of this mattered.
Now he finally understood why Clark had hesitated outside.
The man had run.
What promise? What honesty?
He had clearly fled this battlefield and dumped the whole thing on his youngest son.
That counted as trauma.
And if there was a treacherous father, then there could absolutely be a treacherous son.
"Ahba. Ahba. Ahba…"
Ian abandoned human language altogether and started babbling like a broken machine as he walked out of the kitchen.
Lois stared.
He made it all the way to the couch and squeezed himself between his brothers before stopping.
"What's wrong with you? Did you choke?"
Jonathan really did not know anything yet. He ruffled Ian's hair in confusion.
Ian opened his mouth, clearly preparing to say something extremely dangerous.
Jordan grabbed him first.
Without waiting for an explanation, Jordan dragged him upstairs, locked the bedroom door behind them, and even shoved soundproofing under the crack at the bottom.
This was now officially a classified meeting.
"What is it?"
Ian looked around the room and immediately regretted having enhanced senses.
Jordan turned to him with the kind of seriousness only teenagers could maintain for about thirty seconds.
"You awakened too. I know it."
"Yes."
Ian admitted it right away.
There was no point denying it.
Jordan's eyes lit up.
"Good. Because I've figured it out."
That was always a dangerous sentence coming from him.
"Dad is Superman. You're Superman. I'm Superman. Jonathan's just Superman without powers yet."
He paused dramatically.
"Which means Mom must be the Supergirl who's been active all these years!"
Ian almost lost control of his face.
Jordan, of course, mistook the silence for admiration.
"Why else would she survive all those dangerous situations before she even met Dad? It's obvious!"
He rushed over to his computer and started pulling up forum posts and news clips like a conspiracy theorist on a caffeine high.
"Look! This forum post says only a superwoman could live with Superman!"
The title of the thread was:
Superman and His Planet-Crushing Reproductive Power
Posted by: SupermanMustDie
Ian recognized the account instantly and almost wanted to laugh.
Then Jordan switched to old news reports featuring Lois.
"She kept surviving impossible situations! That can't be normal!"
"No normal woman could do that!"
Ian stared at him in silence.
He really did not want to deal with his second brother's logic right now.
He turned to leave.
Jordan grabbed him again.
"I need your help. We need a plan. We have to make Mom reveal her true form."
Ian pulled his arm free.
"If you make a plan, the only thing that's going to happen is that we reveal our true forms after she beats us half to death."
Then he slipped out of the room before Jordan could keep going.
"Fine! I'll figure it out myself! I'm smarter than you think!"
Jordan called after him.
Ian kindly shut the door behind him.
Meanwhile, in Gotham.
In the Batcave.
"Motherfucker."
Bruce Wayne ripped the headset off his ears.
As if it were poisonous.
A monitor in front of him still showed violently spiking audio waveforms, accompanied by sounds that absolutely did not belong in polite company.
Alfred entered carrying a tray of tea and raised an eyebrow when he saw Bruce looking this visibly disturbed.
"Did the youngest Kent do something especially horrifying this time, sir?"
He clearly knew what Bruce had been listening to.
"It was the second Kent boy's puberty."
Bruce rubbed his forehead.
Apparently pulling the plug on Ian's calls had not been enough.
The kid had retaliated by hiding the phone under Jordan's bed.
And now Bruce had paid the price.
"That seems… manageable?"
Alfred looked puzzled.
Bruce was silent for a moment.
Then, in the full weight of Batman's low, gravelly voice, he said:
"I heard the howl of a beast."
Alfred's smile froze.
"That is…"
Even he did not know what to say to that.
"Please bring Damian back," Bruce finally said.
That was not a sentence Alfred had expected to hear tonight.
"Didn't you say the young master needed more tempering?"
Bruce kept his eyes on the screens.
"Have you seen the Kent household? I suddenly realized Damian is actually a very good child."
"I shouldn't be so hard on him."
Alfred's eyes widened slightly.
That might have been the most tender thing Bruce had said in decades.
"I'll arrange the jet."
After Alfred left, Bruce returned to work.
His hands flew across multiple keyboards.
Dozens of different Gotham crises still needed handling.
Eventually, though, his movements halted.
Because in the brief black reflection of one of his darkened monitors, he saw a tall figure standing behind him.
"The manuscript."
Bruce did not turn around.
Clark stepped out of the shadows and placed the pages on the console.
"How long have you been here?"
"I was here the whole time."
Clark's voice carried a trace of anger.
Bruce's hands stilled.
The air in the cave thickened.
Only the low hum of machinery could be heard.
After a long silence, Bruce finally spoke.
"I have to admit, your strength has been increasing much faster than I predicted."
"More than twice as fast, actually."
He pulled up a graph on the monitor.
It was a success. He had redirected the subject.
"You're right," Clark said quietly. "Ever since that incident, I've felt something growing inside me. It's my power, but not entirely mine."
He raised the arm that had already long since healed.
Bruce did not need to check any records.
"That was the day Ian and Kara helped you."
Clark looked uncertain.
"Well. More or less."
Bruce did not press. He simply looked at Clark for a moment, then brought up a different piece of footage.
"Clark. We need to be honest with each other."
He played the satellite recording.
In it, Madison was pulling Ian through the street while Ian stopped and closed his eyes, as if in prayer.
Then the footage abruptly cut to static.
"This…"
Clark recognized it immediately.
This had to be the one incident he had failed to notice that day.
"What happened?"
Bruce tapped another screen.
It showed a second satellite's recording.
This one captured the first satellite from afar.
In the single visible frame, the first satellite simply disintegrated.
No destruction process. No explosion.
It just became dust.
"That wasn't Kryptonian power," Bruce said.
Clark's pupils contracted slightly.
Even with Bruce's frame rate and equipment, there had been no visible explanation.
"What are you trying to say?"
Bruce rose from his chair and faced him directly.
The two men stood in silence for a moment.
Then Bruce asked the question outright.
"That child. The one in the pod."
"Was he really in the ship?"
"Or did you pick him up from some kind of dark ritual?"
The very fact Bruce could say that much meant he already no longer believed Ian had simply come from Krypton.
And he was right.
Clark's expression turned complicated.
"That's something I can't tell you."
"Why?"
"It's not a truth I'm allowed to reveal."
"And I have to protect my son."
His voice grew distant, almost unreal.
Bruce watched him carefully.
"You know I'll find out anyway, right?"
Clark shook his head.
"You can try."
"But I think you'll fail again."
Then Superman turned and left.
Watching him go, Bruce said nothing for a long time.
At last, he turned and walked deeper into the Batcave.
He stopped in front of a sealed chamber.
The mechanical locks disengaged.
The chamber opened.
Inside, suspended in a temperature-controlled containment field, was a jar of flowing golden energy.
It looked like bottled lightning.
The Speed Force.
"I need to see that day."
Bruce spoke in a low voice to no one.
And then, just as he reached for it, a pale bolt of lightning exploded out of nowhere and struck the container in his hand.
The jar shattered into ash.
The Speed Force escaped.
Bruce recoiled several steps as his armor snapped into place over his body.
On the scorched floor where he had stood a moment ago, a line of words had appeared, written in holy flame.
This is a warning.
Bruce stared at the sentence and read it aloud in Batman's low, rough voice.
(End of Chapter)
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