Somewhere in the Arctic—
Inside a vast chamber carved from giant translucent crystals, dozens of holographic screens floated in the air, each one playing a different news broadcast from across the world.
One of the projections enlarged slightly.
The footage showed the aftermath of a stopped bank robbery somewhere in Washington. Police cars surrounded the street while civilians and reporters crowded behind barricades.
And standing in the middle of it all—
still dressed in his iconic suit—
was Hawkman.
"Hawkman! Hawkman, just one question please!"
"I already told you people," Hawkman replied with visible irritation as he walked away from the cameras, "I don't do interviews anymore."
"But the public wants answers!" the reporter insisted while hurrying after him. "Were you involved in stopping the attacks on 9/14?"
Hawkman slowed slightly.
"I wasn't the only one who stopped things that day," he answered. "A lot of brave people stepped up."
"You mean the passengers on the planes?"
"That's exactly who I mean."
The reporter quickly pressed forward again.
"So the flying man people keep talking about—the one in the red cape—he was real?"
Hawkman let out a tired sigh.
"You reporters really aren't letting that go, huh?"
"So he does exist?"
For a brief second, Hawkman's expression shifted.
Then he answered.
"…Yeah," he admitted reluctantly. "There was someone else there."
The surrounding reporters immediately erupted into noise.
"Was he a metahuman?"
"A government weapon?"
"Was he working with the Justice Society?"
Hawkman frowned slightly, absentmindedly flexing the hand that kid had stopped so effortlessly mid-punch days ago. Even now, he still remembered the small shockwave that had rippled through the air from the impact alone.
"All I know is that the kid was trying to save people," he said bluntly. "That's it."
"The kid?" the reporter repeated instantly. "So he was young?"
Hawkman immediately realized his mistake.
But it was too late.
"He wasn't some fully grown giant if that's what you're asking," Hawkman muttered. "Now stop shoving cameras in my face."
One reporter hurried forward before he could leave.
"Then one final question—does this mean Hawkman is officially returning? And if so… is the Justice Society coming back too?"
At that, Hawkman paused.
For the first time since the interview began, his irritation faded slightly.
"No," he said calmly. "Hawkman retired a long time ago. Same with the Justice Society."
He glanced briefly toward the sky.
"This was different. People needed help."
Then a faint grin crossed his rugged face.
"Besides… it's probably time the next generation took over."
Before the reporters could bombard him with more questions, the metallic wings behind his back spread outward—
and he launched into the sky.
The hologram froze there.
"It still feels weird hearing someone like Hawkman talk about me on national television," I admitted with a grin.
I was currently sprawled across what was probably the most comfortable sofa on Earth, made entirely from sunstone—one of the very first things I had requested to be created in this crystal fortress.
Around me, dozens of holographic screens floated through the air, each replaying different news clips, interviews, debates, and conspiracy theories surrounding the events of 9/14.
It had been a week since then.
And following the advice of my two absurdly intelligent Kryptonian AIs, I had intentionally stayed out of sight.
According to them, disappearing after such an explosive debut was the smarter move. It gave the world time to react… and gave us time to observe how humanity would process everything that had happened.
So over the past week, I had mostly split my time between helping Ma around the Kent farm and staying here—
inside my Fortress of Solitude.
The name I borrowed from the comics was starting to feel strangely fitting now.
For miles around, there was nothing but endless snow, ice, sunlight, and silence. No cities. No crowds. No noise. No expectations.
Not even penguins lived this far out, which honestly felt a little disappointing.
Still…
this place had become something special to me.
A place where I could fully be myself.
Where I could study Kryptonian knowledge, experiment with technology, train my powers, create whatever I wanted—
or simply sit alone with my thoughts.
Honestly, it felt less like a secret base and more like my own personal school.
Or maybe even college.
A world completely separate from everyone else.
A place where the responsibilities of Earth felt impossibly far away—
"Clark, can you go get me a Big Mac?"
A soft female voice abruptly shattered my train of thought.
I looked up with a sigh.
Standing a few feet away was a doll-like blonde girl with blue eyes and a ponytail.
"Darci…" I groaned. "It's not even dinner time yet."
Darci was the girl I had rescued from the Toyman incident.
Or more accurately—
the toy girl.
For now, Lara and Jor-El were still monitoring her condition carefully to determine whether it was truly safe for her to properly reintegrate into society.
At the same time, I had also been studying her construction and comparing it with Kryptonian robotics. Conscious artificial beings weren't exactly revolutionary by Kryptonian standards, but for me? It was fascinating.
I was even considering trying to create some kind of hybrid between Earth robotics and Kryptonian technology in the future.
Also…
it was admittedly nice, having some eye candy in this empty place.
If only she wasn't so demanding all the time.
"But I'm hungry," Darci replied simply.
"You are hungry because you keep eating processed junk food instead of proper meals," Lara said as she materialized nearby in a swirl of glowing red particles. "Kal, you really should stop bringing her burgers, fries, and cola every few hours."
"How about asking Martha Kent to prepare healthier food for her instead?" Jor-El suggested calmly as his hologram appeared nearby.
"Or," he continued, "Darci could simply learn how to cook herself. Constructing an Earth-style kitchen inside the Hall of Creation would be extremely simple."
Darci blinked thoughtfully.
"Cooking sounds like a useful survival skill for human society," she declared seriously. "Alright. I will learn it."
"Well, I'm not particularly experienced with Earth cuisine myself," Lara admitted, lightly touching her chin in thought, "but it shouldn't be too difficult. In fact, I would love to try recreating some Kryptonian dishes using ingredients found on this planet."
Her expression softened slightly as she looked toward me.
"I want my baby to at least experience a small taste of Krypton."
"But I want to learn food made by humans, not weird alien dishes," Darci argued immediately.
Lara gasped in mock offense.
"Kryptonian cuisine is not weird."
"…Sigh."
I sank deeper into the sunstone sofa.
"So much for this being the Fortress of Solitude."
Honestly, both Lara and Darci had an incredible talent for making sure I was never truly alone in here.
At least Jor-El usually respected personal space. Most of the time, he only appeared when necessary or when I directly asked him something.
Not that I actually minded.
It just…
wasn't exactly how I had imagined the Fortress of Solitude from the comics would turn out to be.
"In any case," Jor-El added calmly, "both Earth and Kryptonian cuisine would require a significant amount of local ingredients."
Lara immediately looked toward me with a bright smile.
"Kal, how about going on a shopping trip for your dear mother?"
"And don't forget my stuff too," Darci added while raising her hand. "I want to start by making burgers."
"Sigh… Mom, can I at least finish watching these news clips first?" I groaned.
How I wished I could just synthesize edible organic food directly from sunstones. As lately I was starting to feel less like a superhero and more like a glorified food delivery guy.
"Didn't we already go through most of these clips?" Lara said as she casually sat down beside me on the sofa, bringing another holographic screen over with a wave of her hand. "Scoot over."
"I know you both already analyzed them," I replied while shifting slightly to make room for her, "but I still want to personally watch the important ones myself."
"Oh, are we watching something together?" Darci immediately perked up. "Then I want popcorn."
Before I could answer, she walked over and squeezed herself onto the sofa as well.
"Please scoot over," she added politely.
"That," I deadpanned while getting crushed between the two of them, "is exactly why I asked for multiple sofas to be made."
Darci ignored me completely.
"And no," I continued before she could speak again, "we are not watching a movie, this is research, and I'm still not getting you popcorn."
Darci stared at me blankly for a moment.
"If you desire the most accurate understanding of current events," Jor-El stated calmly, "then you should prioritize official government statements, newspaper reports, and covert recordings from high-level meetings currently taking place around the world."
Several new holographic panels appeared in front of me, displaying secret conferences, military briefings, and emergency political discussions from different countries.
"I disagree," Lara said immediately, summoning her own collection of holograms. "Public emotion is far more important right now."
She pointed toward various clips floating around us.
"Statements from survivors. Reactions from ordinary citizens. Fear. Hope. Anger. Conspiracy theories. And especially interviews from both older and newer heroes."
Her lips curved slightly.
"If Kal wants to understand how the world truly feels after 9/14, those matter much more."
"How about we watch a movie instead?" Darci suggested again. "Maybe that animated one where burgers fall from the sky."
"Fine," I sighed. "I'll watch everything one by one."
Then I looked toward Darci.
"And haven't you already seen that movie multiple times?"
"But watching giant burgers fall from the sky reduces my hunger," Darci replied with complete seriousness.
This was the same girl who had once confidently told me that, as a toy, she technically had no biological need to eat food at all—
yet somehow she now craved junk food more than any actual human I knew.
Ignoring her antics for the moment, I focused on another holographic screen as the next interview began to play.
"Mr. Incredible, what are your thoughts on the recent wave of chaos and terrorist activity occurring across the country?"
The man on screen flashed the cameras an easy, confident grin.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a blue-and-black costume with a red emblem shaped like a lowercase "i" on his chest. A black domino mask rested over his eyes, while his blonde hair remained perfectly combed despite what looked like the aftermath of a collapsed building behind him.
"Well," he said casually, "from my experience, situations like this usually involve punching through a few walls, stopping bad guys, and trying not to let too many buildings collapse in the process."
He paused briefly, glancing downward.
"Hold on—is this microphone attached properly?"
One of the nearby staff members quickly hurried over to fix the mic clipped awkwardly to his suit.
"Oh, it's that blonde guy," Darci said while pointing at the screen. "His face was on the kids meal box you brought me two days ago."
"Mr. Incredible. Real name: Robert 'Bob' Parr," Lara stated as another holographic profile appeared nearby. "Twenty-five years old. Full-time superhero. Was married to the retired heroine Elastigirl. They also have one daughter."
Additional information rapidly appeared beside the screen.
"Primary meta-abilities include extreme physical strength and durability. Public approval ratings are unusually high due to his long-standing heroic activity and highly approachable public image."
"Mr. Incredible…" I muttered with a small smile as I watched him struggle with the microphone wire.
Out of all the unexpected things I had discovered after reincarnating into this strange hybrid world—
seeing a younger, active version of Mr. Incredible operating openly as a famous superhero in DC society had definitely been near the top of the list.
And honestly?
It was a surprisingly welcome addition.
"Alright, there we go," Mr. Incredible said once the microphone was finally secured. "Hopefully it stays on this time."
The reporters around him laughed lightly.
"So, yeah—where was I?" he continued while rubbing the back of his head. "Right. I was saying that I'm honestly proud of how heroes across the country have stepped up during all this."
His tone softened slightly.
"People are scared right now. And when people are scared, they need someone willing to stand between them and the danger."
Then his trademark grin returned.
"Sure, saving the world over and over again can get exhausting sometimes…"
He shrugged.
"But hey—that's kind of the whole point of being a superhero, right?"
The hologram continued playing for a few more seconds before I silently paused it.
Seeing someone like Mr. Incredible speak so casually about risking his life for others made something settle in my chest.
This world already had incredible heroes.
Real heroes.
People who fought, sacrificed, and stood back up again long before I ever arrived here.
Which meant my childish dream of becoming the greatest hero of them all…
wasn't going to be easy.
And honestly—
that made me want it even more.