Devastation.
Death.
Destruction.
Superman looked at it all as he floated above the remnants of Gotham City. It had been some time since the fight between the justice league and the Viltrumites and yet the city looked no better than it did before, and worst of all people were still getting injured as the city had become unstable and buildings were still collapsing. As Superman looked over the devastated city he couldn't help but think that he had failed, that he had failed in his mission to protect humanity. Pa had always told him that his powers were gifts and that he could use them to show people a better way, that maybe hope and kindness weren't just fantasies that people had to be through the day. Looking down at Gotham he had to wonder where he had gone wrong, where had all of them gone wrong. He had saved thousands of people in his carer, but had he really helped them? Had he made a difference to their lives after preventing their deaths. He knew why he felt this way, it wasn't just the destruction of Gotham city that caused it.
Mark.
He might've been the Justice Leagues biggest failure. He was certainly Superman's biggest failure; even if Bruce had been the one to dose him with Red Kryptonite he had started the fight. He should've talked to Mark, if he had then he would've realised they loved each other. He would've been a fool not to see it, just look at what Mark had done to try and save his nephew; he was going to his enemies for help.
Superman rubbed his eyes as he thought about it. It had been decided by the League and Global Justice that going after Mark wasn't viable for now. That there were too many problems on Earth for them to send heroes into space, and the Viltrumites were still a viable threat so they needed to prepare Earth for invasion. It was almost a unanimous decision, and by that he meant that he hadn't voted for it. The idea of leaving his cousin and her child in the hands of the Viltrumites hurt him in a way he hadn't felt for years.
Mark would protect them, and they also had Raven and that clone of Kara, but he didn't think that would be enough. He knew Mark, he was a good person at heart and had he been raised in Metropolis or any other place apart from Gotham then he might've been one of the greatest heroes they had. For someone who was a self proclaimed selfish person he had risked his life and almost died time and time again for other people.
Right now though he was desperate, and a desperate man will do things he wouldn't normally do. Based on what he knew about Viltrumite culture, and the fact there was an intergalactic war going on. Mark was going to commit deeds that would stay with him forever. He wasn't alone either, to heal their son he knew Kara would do the same thing. At the end of the day he couldn't blame them, the world wasn't kind and sometimes you'll find yourself doing things you never thought yourself capable of.
"What has happened to us..." he whispered to himself.
Mark and Kara were on the cusp of committing genocide, Bruce had started his own group that now killed villains. Out of everyone he knew, Bruce would be the last person he expected to do that. That was his rule, the reason he was Batman. Superman had killed before, he usually left it until he didn't have a choice, but what Bruce was proposing was something else.
Superman rubbed his eyes again before zooming down to the city and continuing to help the relief efforts, he had been going for a while now. He didn't need rest like normal people did—as long as he had solar energy—but all of this was starting to weigh on his mind.
'I need a break...'
...
The cameraman shook slightly as the wind kicked up dust and loose debris across the broken asphalt, the lens catching glimpses of shattered buildings behind the a woman. Lois Lane stood near the skeletal remains of what had once been a hospital in central Gotham, her dark hair tied back, mic in hand, her boots crunching glass with every step as she turned toward the camera crew behind her. "This is Lois Lane, reporting live from Gotham City, where the aftermath of catastrophic battle between the Viltrumites and the Justice League still has a lingering effect on the fity," she said. "What you're seeing behind me is only a fraction of the devastation. Thousands are dead, thousands more are injured, and rescue efforts are still ongoing. Entire blocks have been leveled. What wasn't destroyed by the initial impact was consumed in the firestorms that followed, due to the gas mains under the roads being exposed. Homes, hospitals, schools—gone."
She motioned to the collapsed structures surrounding them, thick columns of black smoke still trailing into the sky. The sound of sirens echoed through the air, punctuated by shouts from firefighters and rescue teams rushing between craters and twisted steel. "The Justice League, in cooperation with the Gotham City Fire Department and National Guard, are working around the clock to locate survivors. Right now, teams are focused on downtown and Gotham heights, where it's believed civilians are trapped beneath buildings that have collapsed in the aftermath."
Just then, a gust of wind slammed into the street, forcing Lois to brace herself and shield her eyes from the dust.
"That was—yes, that was Superman," she said, eyes lighting up as she pointed toward the source. "The Man of Steel has been moving non-stop since the fighting ended."
The camera panned slightly to catch him—a red-and-blue blur slowing to a stop as he landed beside a collapsed metro tunnel. Without a word, Superman crouched, placed both hands beneath a massive slab of concrete, and lifted it effortlessly. He held it up, hovering slightly, allowing two firemen and a medic to rush in beneath it.
A second later, Superboy landed beside him, his boots landing hard on the broken ground. He knelt, helping dig out twisted rebar and tossing it aside before reaching into the dust and pulling a coughing man out with one arm.
Wonder Woman descended moments after. She pulled back steel girders, using her bracers to push aside sparking electrical lines, and called to the medics nearby to come assist. All three of them were focused on the task at hand, but it was difficult, the entire foundation of Gotham was unstable and so new buildings collapsed daily, and with most of Gotham being below the living wage the people couldn't afford to leave, not if they wanted to be homeless. Right now it was being discussed in congress the amount that would be allocated from the emergency relief fund, as well as where the displaced people would go.
"All of them are here," Lois said into the mic as the camera focused on the trio. "Superman. Superboy. Wonder Woman. Doing everything they can to pull survivors from the ruins of this city. And they're not alone. Starfire, Red Tornado, Martian Manhunter—they're all here, clearing rubble and helping with transport and power restoration."
"This isn't just a cleanup. It's a rescue. It's a fight to keep this city alive," Lois said, her voice rising slightly as the sounds of clanging metal and distant explosions echoed through the city. "And right now, every second counts." She lowered the mic for a moment, glancing past the camera toward the metro site again, watching as Superman lifted another heavy beam.
"No one's giving up," she said finally, mic raised once more. "And neither will Gotham."
Lois brought the mic back to her mouth, standing tall against the smoke and noise that surrounded her.
"We've just received confirmation that the new group of heroes who helped repel the abominations during the fight before the Viltrumites are calling themselves the Global Justice Society. According to sources within the League, this is a newly-formed international task force created specifically to deal with threats beyond conventional League protocol."
"And heading this group is none other than Batman himself. That's right. The Dark Knight may have retreated from the public eye months ago, but he's returned—and he's not alone. We're working to gather more information on this Global Justice Society, its members, its purpose, and how it fits into the wider landscape of Earth's defense."
She turned slightly toward the camera with a final statement. "Stay tuned for more updates. This is Lois Lane, reporting live from Gotham."
The red recording light on the camera winked off.
"We're off-air," the cameraman called.
"Good. Break down the mobile rig and get the van ready to move in five," Lois snapped. She turned to a production assistant hunched behind a power unit. "Emily, I need all the raw satellite footage from the last twenty-four hours pulled and scrubbed for shots of those new heroes. Anything. Face, uniform, movement pattern, I want IDs."
"Got it," Emily nodded, already opening a laptop.
Lois pointed to one of the boom operators still lingering by the sound equipment. "Tony, you and Rick go canvas downtown. Look for eyewitnesses. Anyone who saw where Batman is. Try cops, medics, rescue teams. If he showed up again, they'll talk."
Tony nodded, already pulling his coat tighter as he moved. Lois then turned back to her cameraman. "Jerry, I want someone from the Global Justice Society. I don't care who. Find me a powered member and put a mic in their face. I need a quote, even if it's just five words. Batman runs this group? I want to know who's following him."
"What if they don't want to talk?" Jerry asked.
"Then you follow them," Lois said, voice flat. "We've covered wars. You know how to stay out of the way. Just get the shot."
She pulled out her phone and started typing notes while scanning the skyline. Her eyes lingered on the high-rise towers still burning in the distance, then moved back toward the smoke-shrouded metro line where Superman and the others were still digging. "Global Justice Society," she muttered to herself. "Let's see what you're really about." They had been in hiding for two months since the fight with the Viltrumites, Lois hadn't even been able to confirm their existence until now; before they were just assumed to be part of the league, but an entirely different group? Made by Batman?
She supposed she could ask Clark about it, but they agreed to keep their work lives separate, so she'd not asked till this point. But she could feel something was up, her journalistic instincts were tingling so to say. Though she was quickly drawn out of her thoughts when Superman landed not far away from her. She knew what this meant, unless they agreed beforehand to an interview if he appeared in front of her as Superman it meant he wanted to talk alone.
Lois slipped her phone into her pocket and walked toward Superman, holding her notebook up. She stopped just in front of him and lifted it slightly. "Superman, any chance for a quick interview?" She stepped in closer than she had to. Behind her, the cameramen scrambled to bring their equipment back online. One flipped a switch. Another adjusted his lens.
Superman looked at her. "I'd be happy to, Lois. But how about just the two of us?" He turned his head toward the cameras. "I'm not interested in doing this live."
Lois looked back at the crew. "You heard him. Pack it up."
There were a few muttered complaints, but none of them challenged her. A tripod clattered as it was folded down. One of the assistants slung a bag over his shoulder and walked off toward the van. The others followed. Within moments, the small crowd around them had begun to clear. Superman looked toward a nearby building that had no roof and only half its walls. He glanced around, then walked toward it without another word. Lois followed. Inside, he paused. His eyes flickered for a second as he scanned the space. Then he turned to her. They kissed, holding on to each other. Lois broke it. "I missed you, Smallville."
"I missed you too, Lane."
She held onto his shirt and looked at him. "How long has it been since you slept?"
He didn't answer.
She raised her eyebrows. "Clark."
"I don't know."
She nodded slowly. "That's what I thought. When are you coming home?"
"I'll be back soon."
"You've said that before."
"I mean it this time."
"You said that last time as well." She gave him a small nudge. "Come on. You need a break. You're not made of stone."
He exhaled. "It's not the work. Not just that."
"Kara?"
He nodded once.
"She's strong. She's stubborn. Reminds me of someone."
Clark gave a faint smile, but it faded quickly.
Lois looked past him at the crumbled street. "She will be fine Clark."
"But the people she's with... They're dangerous. They don't think the same way we do. They don't hesitate to hurt and kill people, they see everyone around them as insects."
"She has her family with her. And if it comes down to it, she'll fight harder than anyone else."
Clark didn't answer. He kept staring at the cracked wall beside them.
Lois stepped closer. "You're not alone in this. Don't carry everything by yourself."
He glanced at her. "I'm trying not to."
"You're failing," she said. "You look like hell."
He gave a dry laugh. "You always know how to flatter me."
"I know how to tell the truth." She touched his face. "Why don't you come back for a little while? Just for a week. I've got time off. We can visit your parents. Eat real food. Sleep in. Let someone else carry the world for a few days."
He didn't answer right away.
"Clark," she said. "Come home. Even if it's just for a weekend. You need it."
"I can't walk away yet. There's still too much—"
"I'm not saying walk away. I'm saying take a breath. You keep pushing like this and you're going to snap. What happens then?"
He didn't speak.
"Have hou even talked to them in the past two months?" she asked. "Your parents?"
"Sometimes."
"Call them tonight. Tell them you're coming. I'll drive out ahead, meet you there."
He looked at her, finally meeting her eyes. "You really want to go to Kansas?"
"I want to go with you. There's a difference."
He was quiet again. Then he nodded once. "Alright. Tomorrow."
Lois smiled. "I'll tell your mom to make pie."
He raised an eyebrow. "Only if it's cherry."
"You don't get to make demands until you show up, Smallville."
They kissed again. He stepped back. "I'll finish up with the League. I won't be long."
"I'll be waiting," she said.
He gave her a look, held it for a moment, then shot upward, vanishing into the sky. Lois stood alone in the building. She pulled out her phone and checked the signal. One bar. Just enough. She tapped out a message to Martha, then slipped it back into her pocket and turned toward the street.
_____________________________________
Superman stood looking out of a view port after a long day of meetings and helping out with the efforts in Gotham. Things up here had been getting a little heated lately; Batman's global justice group are very than the justice league for one a lot of them are much younger. Well, this wasn't an inherited problem in itself, there are a lot of heroes in the justice league who have been fighting for good for a long time and f for some barely out of their teens heroes to show up and start telling them about a better way... needless to say ruffled some feathers.
Superman mostly tried to keep peace during the meeting but that was difficult, especially with the new hero Rex Splode. He seemed to have a particular gift in annoying people not that Superman would ever admit to being annoyed by him. Luckily, Bruce was there and he managed to calm his side down while Superman did the same for his side. Not much was decided in the end; they've been trying to figure out what to do with the abominations left over— the ones that hadn't been killed.
Batman and global justice wanted to put them out of their misery; their reasoning being that containing such powerful monsters would be difficult and the risk of escape was high the longer they left it. For the good of everyone, they should just kill them. Superman and the league disagreed. These people they were infected against their will and turned into monsters but that didn't mean they were a monsters. Superman couldn't in good conscience let them die without doing all he could first. He said that during the meeting, and was then called Boy Scout and naive by the other side.
Who knows maybe he was.
He wasn't sure anymore, he wasn't sure of a lot of things. That he couldn't think any more of it as someone walked up to him. Superman turned and saw Diana, he smiled at her. "Diana, everything okay?" he asked. The reason being she nearly got into a fight with a monster girl when said person said a slur in Greek.
Diana huffed. "I'm not so weak that I will let her little girl get under my skin," she said while crossing arms, though from his perspective, it looked like she had succeeded. After a short pause she spoke "I didn't mean to interrupt."
"You're not," he said. "I was just... thinking."
They looked out together for a moment. Then he spoke again.
"Do you ever wonder if it's changing too fast?"
Diana didn't answer right away.
"I look at it sometimes," Clark continued, "and I don't recognize it the way I used to. There was always conflict. Always problems. But now... it feels colder. Like the world is moving down a darker path."
Diana's eyes didn't leave the planet below. "The world has always changed. That's what it does."
"I know," he said. "But I used to think we could help shape the change. Make it kinder. Help people see each other, really see each other. Lately it feels like no one wants that anymore. They want to win at any cost. They want to survive. But they don't want to understand each other."
He paused.
"I don't know if what we believe in still fits."
Diana was quiet for a while. Then she said, "You mean hope."
"I mean all of it. Hope. Mercy. Restraint. Believing the best in people. Standing up for them even when they don't stand up for themselves. I still do it. Every day. But some days, I wonder if I'm holding onto something the world already let go of."
"You're not alone in that." Diana commented.
"I know," Clark said. "But I feel it more now than I ever did. The calls for help come faster. The violence escalates quicker. The fear, the anger, it's not just rising, it's becoming normal. I patch holes in buildings after another attack, and I can already see where the next cracks are going to appear. I stop one fire and three more start."
"That's always been the job."
He nodded. "But I used to feel like it was building toward something. That if we kept at it, if we stayed true to the ideals, things would gradually get better. Not perfect. Just better. Now I'm not sure the world wants better. If what we're doing was always in vain."
Diana shifted, glancing toward him.
"You think we're failing?"
Clark shook his head. "I don't know. I just know I used to fly in and see people look up. Not because I was powerful. But because they remembered what that symbol meant. Lately, I see something else in their eyes. Not hate. Just... exhaustion."
He exhaled through his nose. "I can't blame them. It's hard to hold onto when everything around you keeps falling apart."
Diana looked back down at the Earth.
"You're right," she said. "It is harder now. But that doesn't make the ideals wrong. Perhaps it means they're needed more than ever."
"I tell myself that every day," Clark said. "That it still matters. That it still means something to try. But there are moments where I feel like I'm carrying it alone."
"You're not." She put an arm on his shoulder.
"I know," he said again. "But I don't think the world cares what we believe in anymore."
"Then we believe anyway," Diana said. "We act the way we wish the world would, we show them what the world could be. Not because it works every time. Not because it's popular. But because it's right."
Clark fell silent.
"I worry, too," she added. "About the world. About what it's becoming. About whether the peace we fight for is something people even want anymore. But if we let the fear decide who we are... then we've already lost."
Clark nodded slowly.
"We've both seen how dark it can get," Diana said. "That's why we don't stop. Because if we give up, then what's left?"
He looked at her. "Do you ever get tired of standing alone in it?"
"All the time," she said. "But I'd rather stand for something than let myself change into someone I don't even recognise."
Clark smiled faintly.
"I'm going to visit my parents tomorrow," he said. "Lois thought it might help. She's usually right about that."
Diana nodded. "They can remind you why you took up the cape."
Clark shook his head. "They remind me who I want to be... plus Ma does make some good Cherry Pie."
Diana smiled. "Make sure to save me some," she said.
"I'm afraid not," he replied with a grin. "If you tried it you'd understand."
They both laughed until they went silent.
"I'm not sure where things are heading. But I know I don't want to lose that. I don't want to become someone who stops trying."
"You won't," Diana said. "That's not who you are."
Clark looked down again at the Earth.
"I just wish I knew how to fix things."
_____________________________________
The table was full of food, almost too much to fit comfortably, but Clark had never seen his mother serve a meal any other way. There was fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, sweet corn from their own fields, green beans cooked slowly in butter and salt, and fresh-baked bread Martha had pulled from the oven just before they sat down. The kitchen smelled like home, and for the first time in days, Clark felt like he could breathe a little easier. Lois was sitting next to him, already eating comfortably. She knew exactly where everything was, reaching across Clark to grab a piece of bread without looking or asking. Jonathan was busy cutting into a piece of chicken, nodding along as Martha talked. Clark sat quietly, slowly eating, not in any hurry, savoring the simple joy of a family dinner. He felt a calm that had been missing lately, a sense that things were still normal.
"So," Martha said, putting down her fork and looking at Lois. "You two thinking about slowing down anytime soon?"
Lois smiled at that, rolling her eyes a bit as she chewed and swallowed her bite. "You know us, Martha. Every time we think about slowing down, something else comes along."
Martha laughed gently, reaching for her tea. "I suppose I shouldn't have asked. You know, Jonathan and I used to talk about traveling when Clark got older. Then older became grown up, and grown up became gone, and here we are still not seeing much past the fields."
Jonathan chuckled softly, giving Martha an amused look. "If you really wanted to go, you'd have gone by now. Admit it, you like fussing over the house too much."
"Maybe a little," Martha conceded with a smile. She glanced over at Clark, studying him for a moment. "But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy right here, just like this."
Clark didn't say anything. He just smiled softly, taking in the moment. He could feel his body slowly relax as they talked. It was nice not having to lead, nice to just listen. Here, with them, he wasn't Superman. He didn't have to carry the weight of the world. He was just Clark, sitting quietly at the table, surrounded by the people who loved him most.
Lois nudged him gently. "You're quiet tonight."
Clark shrugged a bit, smiling at her as he reached for the potatoes. "Just enjoying being home."
Jonathan raised an eyebrow slightly, looking across at Clark. "Well, you picked the right night for it. Your mom's been cooking since sunrise."
Martha waved a dismissive hand at Jonathan. "Oh, stop. It wasn't sunrise."
"Close enough," Jonathan replied easily, reaching for more chicken.
Lois laughed softly, leaning back in her chair. "Honestly, it's worth the drive. I'd drive halfway across the country just for one of Martha's dinners."
Martha gave her a gentle look. "You're sweet, Lois. And you know you never need an excuse. Just call ahead next time and I'll put a pie in."
Clark watched Lois smile and relax into her chair. It was good seeing her this comfortable, happy just talking and eating. She fit here, had always fit from the moment she first came home with him. It felt right, her being part of this. Clark didn't say it, but the thought settled warmly in his chest. He looked down at his plate, feeling grateful.
Jonathan was wiping his hands on a napkin, finishing his meal and glancing thoughtfully between Clark and Lois. "You two thought any more about slowing down enough to make it out here permanently? Place feels empty some days."
Clark lifted his eyes to meet his father's, giving a soft smile. "We talk about it now and then. Maybe someday."
Lois glanced at Clark, her expression warm. "I think someday sounds pretty good."
Martha nodded slowly, looking pleased. "Just keep that thought in mind. Life's short enough as it is, even when it feels long."
Clark felt the truth of those words sink into him. There was a time when everything felt permanent—this house, this farm, these dinners. But now each moment felt a little more precious, and he understood better what his mother meant. It was easy to lose sight of everything when he was away from home.
After a few quiet moments, Martha stood up and walked to the counter, pulling the towel off the pie she'd left to cool. "Who wants dessert?" she asked softly.
Jonathan raised a hand immediately. "You know my answer."
Lois smiled warmly, leaning closer to Clark. "I'm definitely in."
Clark nodded slowly, glancing at his mother. "Pie sounds good, Ma."
She smiled, cutting slices carefully and placing them onto plates. When everyone had their share, she sat down again, looking around at the table. Clark took a bite, tasting home, and felt a deep contentment. Lois reached over and gently placed her hand over his beneath the table, squeezing gently. They shared a quiet glance, one full of understanding, full of silent conversations they'd had many times before. Clark squeezed her hand back gently, grateful she'd brought him here.
...
Clark stood out on the porch after dinner, leaning against the railing as the sky slowly turned orange and pink. The fields stretched out endlessly in front of him, the wind gently rustling the crops. He took a slow sip from the glass of his mother's iced tea, feeling the chill against his hand and the sweetness of home on his tongue. It was quiet out here, peaceful, but even now Clark couldn't completely silence the uneasy thoughts that had been running through his mind for days. He stared out at the horizon, lost in his worries, thinking about everything happening in the world—how complicated it had become, how much darker it seemed compared to when he first put on the suit. The days when hope had felt simple now felt so distant. He remembered flying through Metropolis in the early days, feeling sure in his heart that every life mattered, every act of kindness had meaning. He still believed it deep down, but the certainty he once had was harder to find.
He was so lost in thought he barely noticed when the screen door creaked open behind him. He glanced over his shoulder as Jonathan stepped onto the porch, hands in his pockets, a smile on his face. He motioned toward the empty spot next to Clark.
"Mind if I join you?"
Clark shook his head slightly. "Of course not."
Jonathan settled himself slowly beside Clark, leaning against the railing with a soft sigh, letting the silence linger for a moment before he spoke again.
"You know," Jonathan said with a gentle laugh, "you got real lucky with Lois."
Clark smiled and nodded softly, glancing down at the porch beneath his feet. "Believe me, I know."
Jonathan gave Clark's shoulder a gentle tap, his voice warm as he spoke. "I mean it. It takes a special kind of woman to put up with the Kent men. Good thing you found her, son."
Clark laughed softly, shaking his head in agreement. "I'm pretty sure Lois would agree with you."
Jonathan smiled gently. They stood in comfortable silence again, watching as the sky slowly shifted toward twilight. Jonathan looked at Clark out of the corner of his eye. "You were pretty quiet during dinner," Jonathan finally said. His voice was easygoing, but Clark could feel the gentle seriousness in it.
Clark hesitated a moment, looking down at his iced tea, swirling the drink around in the glass before letting out a soft sigh. "I've just been thinking a lot lately."
Jonathan chuckled quietly. "Well, you know that's never a good idea for us Kent men."
Clark smiled gently.
Jonathan straightened up, looking at him directly, his tone softening. "What's on your mind, son?"
Clark was quiet for another few seconds, gathering his thoughts before looking up. His expression grew serious. "The world has changed so much since I first put on the suit, Pa."
Jonathan nodded slowly. "That it has."
Clark let out a slow breath, leaning slightly harder against the porch railing as he spoke. "I used to believe in humanity. I believed that if I showed them hope, if I encouraged truth and understanding, then maybe it would spread. Maybe people would start to see each other differently. Maybe they'd choose kindness over hate... I thought, even the smallest acts mattered, that every little thing I did made a difference. That it could inspire others to do the same."
Jonathan listened quietly, never interrupting, just letting Clark work through it at his own pace.
Clark shook his head softly. "But lately, Pa, I look at the world, and I wonder if maybe I was wrong. It feels like everything's slipping away, like the world's going down a path that it might never come back from."
He hesitated a moment, taking another slow sip of his iced tea before continuing. "My best friend, someone who never believed in killing, now thinks it's the only way to create a better world. He says sometimes you have to cut off the infected parts of a plant so the rest can survive. In a way, I understand his logic. I see what he means."
Clark set his glass down slowly on the railing, his voice quieter now, strained with worry. "Yet everything in my heart tells me he's wrong. Everything I've ever believed in says people can still be saved. But then, I see the world as it is today, and I can't help but wonder if I'm just naive. Maybe I'm the one who's wrong. Maybe kindness and hope aren't enough anymore."
Jonathan didn't answer right away. He stood quietly, letting Clark's words hang in the air. After a long moment, he placed a gentle hand on his son's shoulder.
"Come with me a moment," Jonathan said quietly.
Clark looked up, surprised, but nodded and followed his father. Jonathan led him down the porch steps, across the worn dirt path toward the old shed behind the barn. He opened the door and stepped inside, Clark following closely behind. Jonathan moved slowly through his old workshop, pulling aside tools and various half-finished projects. He finally found what he was looking for; a dusty, metal container tucked safely under the bench.
"What's this, Pa?" Clark asked softly, curious as Jonathan handed it over.
"Your Ma collects all those newspaper clippings when you're in the news," Jonathan said quietly. "As you already know... I'm a little different. Go on, open it."
Clark lifted the lid slowly, glancing inside. There was a stack of newspaper clippings—small, carefully folded articles filling the container. He picked up the top clipping, gently unfolding it. It was a story about a local shopkeeper who had stopped a robbery, risking his own life to help someone he barely knew.
Clark looked at another clipping—this one was about a young woman who had stepped into traffic to save a child. Another one described a teenager who stood up to a group of bullies at his school, protecting someone who couldn't protect himself. Clark read through them slowly, confusion settling into his expression.
He looked up at his father. "Pa, why do you have these?"
Jonathan stepped closer, pointing at the articles softly. "These stories, Clark—every single one has something important in common. Look here."
Clark's eyes followed his father's finger to a quote highlighted in each clipping. He read it carefully, a quiet awe settling over him as he recognized the same words in every story:
"I was inspired by Superman."
Clark felt a quiet shock move through him, his eyes widening slightly. He had no words. He had never imagined something like this.
Jonathan squeezed Clark's shoulder gently. "Maybe kindness isn't popular anymore, son. Maybe the world is getting harder. But never think, even for a moment, that you aren't reaching people. Every single one of these people had their lives changed because of you, and they, in turn, they changed someone else's."
Clark couldn't speak. He struggled, throat tightening as he stared at the clippings, trying to absorb everything he felt.
Jonathan watched him quietly. "The question isn't whether the world has changed, Clark. The question is whether you have. Do you remember what you said to me when you were just a boy? Has that changed?"
Clark slowly lifted his head, meeting his father's eyes, and smiled softly. "Never."
Jonathan smiled warmly, nodding. "You say you see your friends going down a dark path. You say you see the world going down a dark path."
Clark nodded silently, eyes steady on his father's face.
Jonathan gave him a gentle, knowing smile. "Well, doesn't that sound exactly like a job for Superman?"
Clark stared at him for a long moment before a soft, warm laugh escaped him, he could feel the weight finally easing in his chest. Without another word, he stepped forward and hugged Jonathan tightly, feeling grateful in a way words couldn't capture.
"Thanks, Pa," Clark whispered softly.
Jonathan just smiled warmly and held his son close. "Anytime, son. Anytime."
(AN: A bit of an interlude chapter, but it's important as it's setting up major changes in characters and the world. Superman is the embodiment of Hope, for a while he's seemed to have lost his way as the world got darker, but that's been by design. I now want you to see the Man of Steel bring Hope back to a world that's lost it. Anyway I hope you enjoyed the chapter.)
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