That evening, after Faora left, Lorien and the others felt no sense of loss.
Her departure was as if she had never been there at all.
But was it really as though she had never existed?
Wanda didn't think so. When she prepared breakfast that morning, she caught herself instinctively making an extra portion. She felt it would take time to adjust to having one less person around. Yet when she looked up at Lorien, he seemed completely unbothered.
Truly, men and women thought differently. At least, she hadn't been able to let go as easily as he had.
"Today's the weekend, Lorien. What do you plan on doing?"
A rare day off felt completely different from Lorien's usual nine-to-five rhythm.
On weekdays, he usually stayed home reading or wandered off to different places, sometimes bringing them along. Those little trips as a trio always put them in a good mood.
"I want to see an art exhibition."
Lorien spoke calmly.
The others were surprised.
"When did you decide that?"
He had never mentioned such a thing before.
"Just now."
He paused briefly, as if recalling something amusing, then added, "In a way, I'm going to see someone. She's sort of my patient."
A patient?
Gwen and Wanda exchanged glances. They had never heard of Lorien having a patient in this field.
And this patient required a special visit? At an art exhibition, of all places?
Something about this didn't sit right.
Their curiosity grew stronger. Who exactly was this patient? And why did the thought make Lorien look so pleased?
Art exhibitions were usually filled with upper-class attendees, all dressed with care. Lorien, Wanda, and Gwen were no exception. They dressed up as well before heading to the city's largest gallery.
At the entrance, Lorien handed over their tickets and they were respectfully shown inside.
The paintings hung against the white walls were full of vibrant colors, but their meaning was utterly baffling.
"I don't think I have any talent for this," Wanda muttered to herself.
Gwen chuckled beside her. "I'm just as lost. What are these lines and colors even supposed to mean?"
On the way in, she had overheard several people praising the artist's extraordinary talent. She thought she must have misheard them—but no, it only proved she truly didn't understand.
Yes, she simply didn't get it.
...
Lorien stood before a canvas of pure white, a look of genuine fascination lighting his eyes.
Wanda and Gwen walked up beside him.
At just the right moment, Lorien smiled and asked,
"What do you see in this painting?"
"It's just a white canvas with a few splashes of paint, isn't it?"
What else was there to see? Wanda honestly couldn't tell.
But Lorien only smiled. "Every painting reflects the state of mind the artist was in while creating it. This one shows an artist who loves life—and the painting itself represents life. It's truly a wonderful piece."
Gwen and Wanda exchanged baffled looks. They really hadn't seen any of that in the painting.
"Lorien, didn't you say you came here to find a patient? We haven't seen anyone yet. Don't tell me the painter of this work is actually the patient you came for?"
"Of course not. I only have a handful of patients."
In this small town, people were often reluctant to seek help. They didn't like visiting a psychologist, so Lorien rarely had many patients. Still, that suited him just fine—his life was quiet, steady, and satisfying.
"Mr. Lorien, what a surprise to meet you here—it must be fate."
Lois Lane appeared in a pink cocktail dress, her eyes sparkling with delight when she saw him.
She truly hadn't expected to run into Lorien here. She had only come to interview the painter, yet now that he was standing in front of her, she decided to bring up something far more serious.
It would also count as her way of repaying him for the information he'd shared with her recently.
Lorien always managed to provide astonishing leads. None of them involved Clark Kent, so she had been able to follow them without the slightest guilt.
"What kind of information do you want me to give you?"
"Because of what you told me, I've been keeping a close eye on Clark Kent. And I've noticed something strange about the people around him."
As she spoke, Lois's expression grew suddenly grave.
"This isn't the right place to talk. Can we go somewhere more private?"
She gestured for Lorien to follow her toward the balcony.
...
When Gwen and Wanda instinctively followed as well, Lois hesitated.
"They're my girlfriends. Don't worry—what I know, they know too."
Lorien's voice was calm, steady.
Life in this small town had always been unusual for the three of them. While Clark Kent had adapted well, many neighbors couldn't understand their relationship at all. But since they never bothered anyone, people eventually grew used to it.
Some even went so far as to joke about Lorien's "good fortune."
Lois, being the seasoned journalist she was, had only been briefly taken aback. She quickly moved on and, once they stepped out onto the balcony, began sharing what she'd discovered.
She pulled out her camera, showing Lorien the images as she explained.
At first, Lorien's expression remained composed. But as he flipped through the photos one by one, a subtle change crept across his face—something faintly odd, almost unsettling.
"Lorien, your expression looks strange. Did something happen?"
Gwen's voice broke the silence.
Without a word, Lorien handed the photos to Gwen and Wanda.
Their faces changed almost instantly.
"What's going on? Why are there two Clarks?"
By all logic, it should have been impossible. Two identical people could not exist in the same world.
And yet, the photos clearly showed it: two Clarks, unmistakably the same soul.