The day was beautiful.
The sky was clear and blue, and far below Vought Tower, people went on with their lives. Cars passed, people talked, everything felt normal for the city.
Ryan stood in his room, facing a large mirror.
He looked at himself in silence.
The suit fit him perfectly. It moved with his body, like it was part of him. Nothing felt tight or loose. Edna hadn't taken his measurements for nothing.
No one in the tower knew about the suit. Only Seth and Ashley. And Ryan trusted that they would keep quiet.
On his first day back, he had searched the room himself.
Cameras. Bugs. Hidden microphones, Eighteen of them.
He had destroyed every one.
Now his room was truly private.
Ryan raised his hand and touched the big red S on his chest. The symbol felt heavier than the suit itself.
He stared at his reflection and thought.
He wasn't Clark.
He wasn't perfect. He wasn't a hero from stories. The world didn't revolve around him, and it never would. He was just a boy trying to do the right thing in a world full of pain, fear, and death.
Maybe he would never be good enough. And maybe he would never fully live up to that symbol.
But he would try, even if trying was all he had…
Then everything stopped.
Through his super hearing, a sound broke through the city noise. A woman's voice, full of panic and pain.
"MY SON IS STILL IN THERE !"
Ryan's eyes widened.
He didn't think, he didn't hesitate.
In the next second, he was already moving, flying out of the tower, cutting through the sky, heading straight toward the cry for help.
—--
An apartment building was on fire.
Flames poured out of broken windows, thick smoke rising into the sky. Below, residents and bystanders gathered outside, held back by caution tape. Two large fire trucks were parked near the entrance, hoses spraying water upward.
One of the firefighters was struggling to hold back a middle-aged woman who was trying to run into the burning building.
"It's too dangerous," he told her, gripping her arms gently but firmly. "The structure is badly damaged. We can't go in. We'll try to contain the fire from outside."
She didn't listen.
Through tears and screams, she begged him to let her pass.
"My son is still in there!" she cried. "I just went to the market I-I just needed a few minutes. I have to get him !"
The firefighter shook his head, his voice breaking with sympathy.
"I understand. I really do. But if you go in, you'll both be in danger. We're calling more people. We'll try to reach him."
Her strength gave out.
She dropped to her knees on the pavement, sobbing, hands shaking. The firefighter knelt beside her, trying to calm her, not knowing what else to say.
Then a loud sound cut through the air.
A sharp, powerful rush, like something tearing the sky apart.
People stopped what they were doing and looked up.
Ryan descended from above, hovering in the air. His arrival made the crowd fall silent. Phones were raised. Fear and wonder mixed on their faces.
He had heard everything.
Ryan looked down and met the woman's eyes. They were red, full of tears and pain.
From the air, he called out, loud and clear.
"Which floor ?"
The firefighter looked up, understanding right away. His voice shook as he answered.
"Apartment five… fourth floor."
That was all Ryan needed.
He shot forward and crashed through a window, straight into the fire.
Inside, the building felt like an oven. Flames filled the halls. Smoke burned the air. The heat didn't hurt him, but he felt it pressing against his skin.
He floated above the floor, afraid the weakened structure might collapse under his weight.
He moved fast, checking room after room. Nothing.
His heart beat harder. Adrenaline rushed through him, then something changed.
It started as a strange feeling behind his eyes.
Suddenly, he could see more.
He could see through the walls. Through the smoke. Through the fire.
He could see three floors below him.
And then he saw a small shape. A child.
Curled up. Not moving.
Ryan could see his tiny bones. His nervous system. His small heart struggling to beat. His lungs fighting against the smoke.
Ryan had unlocked X-ray vision.
But there was no time to think about that.
He rushed into a burning bedroom. The signs were clear, small bed, toys, drawings burning on the wall.
On the floor lay a little boy, maybe four or five years old, unconscious.
Ryan didn't hesitate.
He scooped the child into his arms and flew back out through the flames.
Going out again through a window, the crowd gasped.
Phones were pointed straight at him as he hovered down with the boy in his arms.
Ryan landed and gently placed the child on an empty stretcher.
"He needs medical help !" Ryan shouted. "He inhaled a lot of smoke, he needs oxygen NOW !"
The paramedics rushed in, the boy was given an oxygen mask.
The mother pushed through the crowd, screaming her son's name.
"Max ! Max !"
She fell to her knees beside him, holding him, crying as she saw his chest rise and fall. Alive.
She looked up at Ryan, tears still streaming down her face.
"Thank you," she said between sobs.
Ryan stood a short distance away. He smiled softly and nodded.
Then he lifted off the ground, hovering a few meters up, ready to leave.
One of the firefighters shouted up at him.
"Hey boy ! What's your name ?"
Ryan turned back one last time.
"Superboy !"
And then he shot into the sky, disappearing in a blur,leaving behind stunned firefighters, a silent crowd, and dozens of phones recording the moment a hero was born.
—-
Ryan kept flying over the city, eyes and ears open, looking for anyone who needed help.
Below him, on an empty lot, a group of construction workers were sitting together during lunch. Helmets off, food in hand, they talked loudly to pass the time. Above them, a tall crane stood still, a thick steel cable holding four massive steel beams, moving them into place for the base of a new commercial building.
None of the workers noticed the cable.
It had started to fray.
Thin metal threads snapped one by one, slow but deadly.
The men kept talking.
"Man, I'm telling you, that horse was a sure thing," one of them said, biting into a sandwich.
"A sure thing ? You said that last week too," another laughed.
"Yeah, and I lost half my paycheck because I trusted you," a third replied, shaking his head.
"Next race is different," the first insisted. "I've got a feeling."
"You always have a feeling," someone else added, raising his cup.
Above them, the cable gave one last sharp snap.
Seven meters up, it broke and the four steel beams dropped.
For a split second, the men only heard the sound.
Then they looked up.
Death was less than two meters away…but it never reached them.
In a blink, something black and red cut through the air.
When they looked again, Ryan was there.
Hovering above them.
Some of the workers dropped their cups in shock. Others froze, mouths open.
Ryan held the beams, four massive steel beams, two in each arm, as if they weighed nothing.
Sunlight hit his blond hair and his calm smile.
He looked down at them.
"Everyone okay ?" he asked.
One of the men nodded slowly, still in shock.
Ryan smiled wider. "Good."
He lowered himself and gently set the beams on the ground. They hit with a loud crash, shaking the dirt.
Ryan straightened and looked back at them.
"Tell your boss to double-check when buying equipment." he said simply.
He gave a small wave. "Take care."
Then he lifted off and flew away, disappearing between the buildings.
The workers stayed silent for a moment.
Finally, one of them spoke.
"…Do you guys know who that was ?"
They looked at each other and shook their heads.
"No idea," another said quietly.
They all stared at the sky, still trying to understand what they had just seen.
—
An elderly man stood at the edge of the sidewalk, waiting for the light to turn red so he could cross the street. Around him, many other people waited too. Each one lost in their own world, some on their phones, others talking, others just staring ahead.
When the light finally changed and the cars stopped, the man lifted his foot to step forward.
But the crowd moved faster.
Someone bumped into him. Then another. The old man lost his balance and fell hard onto the asphalt. His knee hit the ground, and he let out a low groan of pain. His body wasn't what it used to be anymore.
"H-Help !" He asked with his hand raised.
No one stopped.
People walked past him, stepping around him, not even looking down. He held his knee and tried to get up, but the pain was too much. He failed and sat back down, breathing hard, sweat forming on his forehead from the effort.
He didn't understand. Have people really become this cold ?
Then he heard a voice.
"Sir, do you need help ?"
He looked up.
Ryan stood there, smiling gently, one hand stretched out toward him.
"Thank you young man," He said.
Ryan pulled him up with ease. As soon as he stood, pain shot through his knee again, and Ryan noticed right away. He carefully placed the man's right arm over his own shoulder.
"It'll be easier like this," Ryan said calmly.
The man nodded, grateful.
Slowly, they crossed to the other side of the street, even as impatient drivers honked their horns.
"What is your name, sir ?" Ryan asked respectfully.
"Frank," the man replied.
Ryan smiled. "Nice to meet you, Frank. I'm Superboy."
Ryan helped him sit on a bench so he could rest. Frank was still clearly in pain. Ryan used his X-ray vision for just a moment, then spoke again.
"It's just a sprain," he said. "Nothing serious. Rest it and put ice on the coming days."
Frank let out a relieved breath.
"Is there someone who can pick you up ? I can also take you home if you need." Ryan asked.
Frank smiled and shook his head. "Thank you, but I'll call someone. I'll be fine."
"You sure ?" Ryan asked.
"Yes," Frank said, clearly grateful.
Ryan smiled again. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Frank."
Then he lifted off into the air and flew away.
Frank watched him go, amazed, as people nearby stopped and stared at the sky, wondering what they had just witnessed.
—--
Ryan sat on a large crane at the top of a building.
The day had been incredible. He had helped many people, and he knew he would never forget their names. The sun was setting on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. The colors reflected off the windows of the buildings across the city.
Ryan smiled.
He knew he might have done only a little. Maybe he wouldn't change the world in any big way. Maybe his actions wouldn't leave a lasting mark.
But he would keep trying.