Is it finally happening?
The day Adrian had long anticipated arrived.
Yet there was no rush of excitement, no burst of joy. Instead, his mood was unsettlingly calm, almost detached.
"Jonathan, should we tell him now?"
Martha's worried voice carried across the quiet farmhouse kitchen, her eyes flicking toward Adrian with maternal hesitation.
Jonathan stood, shoulders heavy with a burden he had carried too long. "It's time. Adrian, come with me."
Without a word, Adrian rose, following him outside into the cool Kansas night. The stars above seemed endless, scattered like diamonds across the heavens. Jonathan led the way toward the old barn.
"Do you remember, Adrian? When you were little, you loved to draw. You went through two sets of crayons one summer." Jonathan's voice carried a bittersweet nostalgia. He didn't open the barn immediately but lingered on memory.
"At first, Martha and I thought you were just scribbling like any child would. But then… spaceships, stars, exploding planets—" Jonathan's voice softened. "Maybe something stayed with you. Something deeper than memory."
Adrian followed silently, his expression composed. He remembered everything, of course. He always had. But he had learned long ago how to mask himself. His father wanted him to appear human, so Adrian played along, his calm façade betraying nothing.
Jonathan pulled open the barn doors. The smell of old grain and dust filled the air. "Here, give me a hand."
Adrian grasped the pulley rope and yanked, the cellar doors groaning open. A rush of stale air escaped, carrying with it the weight of secrets long hidden.
Inside, beneath a tattered canvas, the object gleamed faintly in the flashlight's beam: a spacecraft. The vessel that had brought him here.
Adrian tilted his head, widening his eyes just enough to mimic shock. "What is this?"
Jonathan set the flashlight down. "It's incredible, isn't it? A ship. Your ship. We thought the government would come, but no one ever did."
From a nearby box, Jonathan pulled out a long, black metallic object etched with the familiar symbol of the House of El. Its surface shimmered with an alien luster.
"This came with you," Jonathan said quietly, pressing it into Adrian's hand. "It's not made of anything on Earth. Adrian… you're not from here. Neither you nor Clark. You are proof that humanity isn't alone."
Adrian turned the object slowly, his blue eyes reflecting its faint glow. Inside, he knew exactly what it was—the key to something far greater, buried far from Smallville. But outwardly, he let silence linger, his gaze lifting to Jonathan.
At last, he spoke, voice steady. "No matter where I come from… you're my father. This is my family."
Jonathan's throat tightened. He reached out, ruffling Adrian's hair like he had when he was small. "You'll always be my son. Both of you will. But I believe you came here for a reason. The things you're experiencing—they're shaping you for what's to come."
For a moment, Adrian allowed himself to soften. He could feel Jonathan's relief, his father's pride. He could play the dutiful son—because in its own way, it gave him power.
"Do you know why I told you first, and not Clark?" Jonathan asked.
Adrian's lips curved into a faint smile. "Because you think Clark isn't ready."
Jonathan nodded. "He's not. He still clings to simple answers. You… you see the world differently. You're more grounded, more mature. Someday, Clark will need you to keep him steady."
Adrian tilted his head, eyes narrowing faintly. "I'll handle him, Dad. Don't worry."
Jonathan exhaled, reassured, though unease lingered in his eyes.
---
Later that night, Clark trudged across the soft soil of the farm, his anger cooled by time. He paused at the porch, hand resting on the doorknob, before pulling away and heading instead toward the barn.
The wooden ladder creaked under his weight as he climbed to the loft. The vast fields stretched endlessly in the night, the stars above clearer than anywhere else.
Here, in the loft, he felt free.
Clark settled in front of his telescope, adjusting its angle toward a familiar direction: Lana's house.
His heart quickened when he found her. She was in her yard, phone pressed to her ear, bathed in the soft glow of her porch light. Every small gesture of hers sent his pulse racing.
He smiled faintly, caught in the simple comfort of watching the girl he had loved from afar for so long.
"Clark."
The voice cut through the quiet like a knife. He flinched, spinning around.
Adrian stood casually behind him, hands in his pockets, his smirk faint but sharp.
"You scared me," Clark muttered, trying to regain composure.
Adrian stepped to the window, glancing in the same direction Clark's telescope had been pointed. "She's beautiful, isn't she?" His tone was teasing, but his eyes glittered with something colder, something Clark couldn't quite place.
Clark flushed crimson, embarrassment burning through him. He knew Adrian didn't need a telescope. His vision stretched for miles. The thought of Adrian watching Lana so easily, so effortlessly, unsettled him.
And Adrian knew it. That was the point.
---
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