The roar of sixty thousand voices still resonated in Ethan's ears as he stepped through the backstage doors.
Madison Square Garden was completely sold out for this show. Every seat taken, every available standing space filled, every ad board showing his face as he sang for almost three hours straight. This kind of energy in the room, an almost physical entity pushing and prodding at him the entire time, was something special. Something truly incredible. Something that had just been broadcasted to the entire world.
Seventeen million people had watched him perform on multiple online platforms while another forty million had tuned in on traditional TV networks. Social media had exploded in every country with internet access for at least one night. The planet's attention had been his for the taking as Ethan Kent, as Ethan Clarke, the alias Batman had helped him create. [A/N: I couldn't come up with a better name. I will leave now]
He loosened his tie as he walked the halls, the sound of his footsteps being muffled by the carpet. Security guards gave him a respectful nod as they passed, the radio in their ears buzzing with some kind of chatter about crowd control and important VIPs. Somewhere behind him, his manager was having a heart attack over the seventeen interview requests he had gotten just during the final song.
None of that mattered to him right now.
Ethan found an empty dressing room and locked the door behind him.
At last, silence.
He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes as he let out a long suffering breath.
Finally , he thought to himself, staring into the darkness. Finally , the potion has digested. Sequence 9 Bard of the Sun pathway, the first rung on the ladder to godhood.
It had taken him two years to fully digest the potion. Two years of performing as a Bard, putting on little shows in little places, building up a name for himself, writing songs that resonated with his very soul. Learning to move crowds with his music and power, not some inherent supernatural ability that compelled them to obey him. Learning to use Beyonder powers in conjunction with the Bard class to amplify his effect on the world. The Sun pathway Bard wasn't just about music. It was about radiance, about inspiring others to reach out and touch the light. His voice was filled with the warm glow of dawn, his power radiated into the room, filling it with sunlight, and drawing his audience to him. Making them feel better, warmer, more hopeful. More inspired. And now, having performed for millions on a global stage, Ethan Kent had digested the potion in him.
One down, seven to go.
Sequence 2 or death. This phrase haunted him, as did the words of the Main Body during his first Sefirah meeting two years prior. There was no telling when the forced return to the original body would come.
Someone knocked on the door. "Ethan? You in there?"
Clark's voice. Ethan smiled.
"Yeah, give me a second."
He straightened his tie and ran a hand through his sweat dampened hair before opening the door to reveal Clark Kent, the man who had taken him in, who had saved his life. Clark was dressed in a nice suit that probably cost more than most people made in a year, behind him stood Martha and Jonathan, their faces all lit up with pride.
"That was incredible," Clark said, giving him a crushing hug. "Seriously, incredible."
"You've come a long way from the barn," Jonathan growled, though the words were said with good humor.
Martha was already hugging him the second Clark let go, her strength surprising him. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered into his ear. "So, so proud."
Ethan hugged her back, his throat tight. It had been two years since he landed in this universe with nothing, save for the lingering sensations of pain and blood. Two years since he had wandered into the Kent farmhouse and asked to stay. Asking to be their son. It had been two years since they had accepted. Since they had made him a part of their family.
---They found a quiet lounge to themselves away from the post-show fuss. Someone had prepared a fruit platter and a few bottles of water, which made Jonathan frown suspiciously as he studied the grapes.
"These are the size of golf balls," he muttered. "That can't be natural."
"They're organic, Pa," Ethan said, settling down onto one of the large chairs. "Just... aggressively organic."
"In my day, organic meant it grew in dirt. Not that it got pampered in some laboratory."
"Sorry," Clark said with a laugh, taking a bottle of water from his mother. "Some things never change."
"Damn right they don't."
Martha swatted Clark's arm before turning back to Ethan. "How are you feeling? Really? I mean, that was an amazing show, but it's got to be exhausting, right?"
"Actually," he paused, contemplating the question. "I feel good. Really good, in fact."
That wasn't an outright lie. The digestion of the potion had taken a large chunk of his focus, two years of it in fact. It had been a constant, underlying pressure that kept him from really focusing on anything else. Now, however, now that it was done, he felt like he could truly move on. Like he could push forwards and start working on Sequence 8.
"You've earned it, man," Clark said seriously, taking a seat across from him. "Two years is a long time. It's really something that you built up your career from literally nothing."
"And a fake identity courtesy of the world's greatest detective," Ethan said dryly.
Clark winced, if the slight paling of his face was any indication. "Still feel weird about that name." [A/N: Here you go. I am rosting myself so you don't have to]
They talked for a bit, catching up as only brothers could. Martha asking about his tour plans while Jonathan complained about traffic on the road to the concert. Clark telling him about latest gossip in the tower that always somehow revolved around Lois Lane. It was all light-hearted small talk, something he hadn't had the luxury of in a long time. A boring, everyday conversation that was the opposite of what he was used to. What he was so, so tired of.
In fact, his thoughts drifted back to where it all began, two years ago. The moment he had arrived in this timeline. He could still see the words on the paper, fresh ink still staining the fibers of the fabric as Clark laid them out on the kitchen table.
"The results are... complicated," Clark had said. "To put it lightly."
"Define define complicated."
"Our combined DNA is 99.7% similar to yours."
Ethan didn't really see the words as he stared at the page. It made sense, really. It was theorized that parallel worlds had similar DNA with each other. The fact that it came out as 99.7 instead of a round 100%, however, was disappointing. It wasn't an outright confirmation, but rather a possibility.
"So I'm telling the truth," he said.
"About the biological connection? Yes. About being from a parallel dimension?" Clark hesitated, choosing his words with painstaking care. "The evidence supports your claims, but evidence and proof aren't the same things."
"What would it take to prove it to you?"
"I don't know. That's the problem. You know things about my life that you shouldn't be able to know. Things about our family. If this was any other circumstance, I'd say you were a telepath of some kind."
"Telepathy is much more common than you know."
"I'm well aware of that."
"You could have sent me back," Ethan said quietly. "Is there a way?"
Clark's jaw tightened. His expression darkening. "I've talked to a number of people about this. Most of them were rather dismissive about the whole ordeal. A few of them, however, were a lot more serious. The short answer is that, unfortunately, we do not know." Clark's voice softened, some of the anger bleeding out. "I'm sorry, man. I really wish there was something we could have done."
Ethan stared at the table for a long time. There wasn't much else he could say. It was true, that if he wanted to, he could stay here. He was stuck, yes, but this universe was perfect in it's own way. Chosen by the Main Body, it was a place he was supposed to develop but he couldn't let anyone know that. No one in this world knew about his Beyonder powers. No one suspected him of anything, really. He was free to move about as he pleased, advancing and developing his character without anyone hindering him.
He was given a clean slate in this world.
"Okay," he said at last. "If I'm sticking around, I'm going to need an identity. Some kind of documentation. Anything really that will prove that I'm who I'm supposed to be."
"That's actually..." Clark trailed off, before shaking his head. "It's not something I can handle alone. One of the people I talked to has offered to help me, actually."
"Who?"
"Bruce Wayne," Clark answered. "Batman. He's a world class detective, after all."
"Sounds like someone who's suspicious nature would have his guard permanently on high."
"He's a good guy, really," Clark assured him. "I think he would be willing to help. It's just that your situation is... difficult. Hard to understand, basically."
"Difficult for who?"
"Bruce Wayne, specifically. Obviously. He doesn't believe you for a second, at least not at first." Clark shrugged. "In fact, he wants to run a few tests to confirm your... claims?"
"I think I'm willing to do that," Ethan said. "What does he want me to do?"
They made the arrangements for an in-person meeting at Wayne Manor, which was as horrifying for Ethan as it probably was for Clark. Bruce Wayne had some interesting ideas when it came to testing people, apparently. Three hour long interrogations followed by lie detector tests and psychological evaluations. The man was truly scary when he wanted to be.
In the end, however, Bruce Wayne was convinced. Convinced that he wasn't lying just to get out of being registered as an alien weapon of mass destruction, at least. The Batman was a firm believer in the phrase "trust but verify", and it seemed like the words had a permanent etching into his soul.
"You're an unknown variable in a world full of unknown variables," the Dark Knight had said. "Giving you a proper name and papers will allow me to keep track of you much easier."
Ethan almost laughed at the irony of it all.
"What name were you thinking?" he asked Bruce.
"Ethan Calrke," The Batman answered, handing him a folder of neatly organized documents that looked very, very real. "Born and raised in Kansas. Your parents died in an accident when you were 18. No siblings, a small inheritance, nothing too fancy. Nothing that stands out, really."
"Clark with an e"
"You've put a lot of thought into this," Ethan remarked.
"I put thought into everything." [T/L: You did not bruh 🥀]
And that was how Ethan Clarke came to be. With a carefully crafted, if slightly suspicious, alibi and an ever-watching eye from Batman. It was all necessary, really.
---The first year had been rough. Not physically, not really. Clark had welcomed him with open arms the moment the DNA tests had come out courtesy of Dr Fate who used his magic to make that report giving him a roof over his head and letting him become a part of the Kent family. It wasn't a lie, per say, that he had become their son. It was more like the Kent family had adopted him. Chose him, really. To become a part of their family in the only way they knew how.
After that it was smooth sailing. It took a little bit of time but in an age of internet it was pretty easy to develop the Sun pathways Sequence 9-Bard
Radiance was a part of the Bard of the Sun's natural requirements. A warm feeling, spreading out from the user like sunlight. Filling the room, filling the heart, and warming it from the inside. It was the kind of Bard that made their audiences feel good, make them reach out and touch the light. And now, Ethan was fulfilling those requirements, doing it all without a single person suspecting a thing. He had taken the first step towards godhood, and it felt amazing.
The only reason it took 2 years despite the potion being 40% digested within 3 weeks into his carrier was that for some reason the potion itself stopped digesting and it continued for more than a year otherwise it would have been possible to finish sequence 9 within 2 to 3 months at most
---Present.
"You're doing that thing again," Clark said, pulling Ethan out of his thoughts.
"What thing?"
"That thing where you get that look. Like you're remembering something important."
Ethan smiled. "I was just thinking about how far we've come. About how much has happened in just the past two years. How I've gone from being some bloody stranger on your doorstep to playing Madison Square Garden with my family in the crowd."
"It has been quite an adventure," Martha said with a smile, taking his hand in hers. "It's amazing how quickly things worked out, isn't it? You barely knew us and you were already begging to become our son."
"Weren't you?" He teased gently, squeezing her hand.
"Never," she said immediately. "The moment I saw those DNA test results, I knew. Knew that you were family no matter what." Martha's smile softened as she studied him. "It wasn't an easy decision, but it was the right one."
Jonathan cleared his throat gruffly. "What she said."
Ethan laughed, blinking back the sudden tears that pricked at his eyes. "You two are going to make me ruin my stage makeup."
"Too late for that," Clark chuckled, nodding towards the slightly smudged area under Ethan's left eye. "The eyeliner situation is already compromised."
"I don't wear eyeliner," Ethan said indignantly.
"Then what's that?" Clark gestured at the dark area again. "Explain this to me."
"It's artistic shadow. Very different thing."
"If you say so."
The conversation lulled again as Clark recounted his travels, which were surprisingly devoid of supervillain confrontations. For once, Ethan was able to listen to someone talk about his own life without it being some kind of battle cry or attempt to rally the troops. Listening to Clark, to Martha, and to Jonathan's gruff attempts at being entertaining. They were the real heart and soul of this little adventure he had found himself a part of and, in this world, that was enough.
---Later that night, Ethan sat on the porch of the Kent farmhouse, listening to the sound of the wind as it rustled the leaves of the corn fields. The concert's after-party had ended hours ago, Clark having flown back to Metropolis after promising to call in the morning. Martha and Jonathan had left him alone, retreating to their room and to sleep. Kansas was quiet, peaceful, filled with the scent of earth and growing things.
It was almost home, if the word home had any meaning to him anymore.
He took out his phone, glancing at the notifications that came up as it loaded. Thousands of new social media followers, a dozen messages from industry contacts, and a handful of interview requests his manager would no doubt try to convince him to accept. They were all pointless distractions, really. Noise that barely reached his ears, things he used to fill the empty space between his real work. Between moving forward on the path to advancement and ascension.
Sequence 9 Bard of the Sun pathway had been digested, and he was ready to move onto the next.
The Sun pathways next sequence was Light Supplicant, a sequence that had different acting requirements that would push him further along. It would increase his power, albeit not nearly as much as he needed. There were still seven more sequences for him to tackle before he could reach the requirements, the long awaited ascension to the rank of Angel. There was also another seven Sequences for each of his other twenty-one selves, all of whom were racing towards their individual goals. Progress was slow, but steady.
Ethan only hoped it would be soon enough, because he had a feeling there wasn't much time left.
There were still so many things left for him to do, places to see, people to meet. Things he had yet to experience, emotions he had yet to feel.
Somewhere across the multiverse, his other selves were doing much the same thing, advancing and progressing in their own ways, their own paths. None of them knew what the other was doing, although they occasionally met up for talks when circumstances allowed. Their meetings were few and far between, but it was enough for them to catch up, to share what they had learned, what resources they had acquired.
Fool had apparently begun acting for his pathway in earnest, while Abyss was somehow still alive and kicking in the Dark Multiverse which in an achievement in itself considering it could collapse any moment. They all made jokes about it, but the underlying truth remained that they were all struggling. That none of them, in their respective realities, were having an easier time besides spectator who got thrown in the body of a Dragon which allows him to have an easier time now but he hasn't been able make much progress and had only been able to reach Sequence 8 one week before him as stated by him in their meeting and Hermit who is getting everything handed to him by the people of Azeroth
[A/N: This might change in the future. For now I have decided to only put Visionary in a Dragon's body]
Ethan turned his gaze to the sky, the stars twinkling like tiny points of light dotting the firm darkness.
Somewhere out there, in some distant reality, his real body still laid suspended in a Kryptonian medical pod. His real family watched over him, praying for him, searching for answers. His brother waited for him to come home. He missed them with every fiber of his being, but that was a luxury he couldn't afford. There was no time for sorrow, no time for grief. For all the good it did, it was a distraction. One he simply couldn't afford.
"Okay," he whispered to himself as he got to his feet. "Let's see what Sequence 8 wants me to do."
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Question: Why do you think the potion digestion stopped?
Your Answer: