Faora knew perfectly well she wasn't a match for Lorien, not with Wanda and Gwen watching her every move.
She understood that Lorien was sparing her.
She didn't know why, but if she could keep her life, then there was still hope for the future. If she died here, then all hope would vanish.
Without another word, she carried General Zod's body away. She didn't even look back at Lorien once.
"Lorien, why let Faora go? If you killed her here, it would save us trouble later."
Gwen was certain Lorien hadn't acted out of mercy. There had to be another reason.
What that reason was, they didn't know.
"I need to confirm a few things about this world. If some who should have died are left alive, it helps me see the bigger picture more clearly."
Since Lorien put it that way, Wanda and Gwen—who had been ready to object—kept their silence.
If Lorien had his reasons, then letting Faora live was fine.
Besides, both of them had a feeling Faora wouldn't cross paths with them again for a long time.
...
Lorien went back to his regular nine-to-five.
That afternoon, around one o'clock, Clark Kent suddenly showed up. But this Clark looked different.
It wasn't the Clark Lorien knew well—it was another version.
He walked straight over, sat down across from Lorien, and spoke bluntly.
"In the fate line I once walked, you were never there."
He said it just like that.
"Even the smallest shift in fate can send it racing in a new direction. There's no need for you to feel puzzled or uneasy about my appearance."
"You may not have harmed the other Clark, but I still can't bring myself to trust you." His tone was serious, almost stern.
"Then what about you? Why are you here? What's your purpose? What do you want to do? What do you think of the other Clark Kent? Will you threaten his existence?"
Lorien shot the questions back one after another, leaving the older Clark momentarily stunned.
"I came here to question you, and yet now you're questioning me? That's absurd."
"Absurd? I don't think so."
Lorien leaned back lazily in his chair, his gaze relaxed.
"To be honest, I knew something was wrong even before you showed up. I just couldn't understand why you didn't handle certain things yourself, and instead let the younger Clark Kent deal with them."
"Because I needed to test what this world really is."
At first, Clark hadn't thought anything was strange. But when he realized his adoptive parents were still alive—and that another Clark existed alongside them—he knew something was wrong.
He didn't know how to deal with it. He thought about it endlessly, hesitated for a long time, and finally made his own judgment.
"He's not you. He deserves to live his own life, make his own choices—not have you make them for him. Don't you think so?"
Lorien said this while watching him carefully.
The older Clark nodded firmly. "You're right. I'll talk it over with him."
He hadn't stayed long—asked a few questions, exchanged a few words with Lorien, then left.
Afterward, he returned to the Justice League, determined to sit down with his younger self.
"After the fight with General Zod, I realized I'm not cut out for battle. I have my parents. All I want is a peaceful life with them."
That was the younger Clark's greatest wish.
"Maybe you're right," the older Clark said to him. "Then live your own life. If you run into trouble, you can always come to me."
Though they shared the same space, they didn't interfere with one another.
"If you want to see Dad and Mom, just let me know. I'll arrange it."
He knew the man standing before him was himself. They were like two separate people now, but their past was the same.
Only their path had diverged—starting from the matter of their adoptive father.
"If I ever want that, I'll ask you."
The older Clark nodded.
Since the younger Clark now understood, he quickly packed his things to return home.
Before leaving, he said goodbye to Lorien. "Lorien, since you've chosen to build your life in Gotham, you must have your reasons. I won't try to stop you. If you have time, come visit me back home. I'll make time to visit you too."
...
"The two places are close. It's not like we're parting forever. No need to make it so dramatic."
Seeing the younger Clark on the verge of tears, Lorien couldn't help but laugh. The kid had grown taller, but not much else.
"It's getting late. You'd better head out now. If night falls, you won't be able to leave, even if you want to."
Gotham was chaotic day and night, though daytime was a little better.
"I know. I'll go now."
The younger Clark, still reluctant, said goodbye again before finally forcing himself to leave.
Lorien could only sigh. He all but walked him to the door, watching until he disappeared from sight, before finally letting out a long breath.
At last, the kid was gone. Hopefully next time, he'd be a little more mature.
Of course, the older Clark still in Gotham was plenty mature—but paranoid.
He still doubted Lorien's identity.
He kept digging into Lorien's, Gwen's, and Wanda's backgrounds, but no matter how hard they searched, they'd never find anything.
Lorien didn't waste much thought on it. He turned toward his treatment room, but after only a few steps, a voice called out behind him.
It was a boy of twelve or thirteen, his voice still childlike.
"Sir, are you hiring?"