BANG!
The devastating punch came at Clark with tremendous force, leaving him no choice but to retreat rapidly to avoid the full impact.
As Clark backpedaled, he stared at Marcus with a mixture of confusion and shock. For the first time in his life, his godfather seemed like a complete stranger—someone who knew every detail of Clark's fighting style and was using that knowledge against him with ruthless efficiency.
BANG!
Another powerful strike forced Clark to continue retreating, his mind reeling as he tried to process what was happening.
"Clark," Marcus said, his voice carrying an edge of authority the man had never heard before, "I wasn't able to be with you constantly while you were growing up, but you're an adult now."
Marcus pressed forward with another devastating combination, his fists moving with precision and power that made Clark's defenses seem clumsy by comparison.
"In normal circumstances, we can be godfather and godson, friends, or teacher and student," Marcus continued, never slowing his assault. "But in battle, you cannot afford to have any distracting thoughts."
BANG!
A perfectly timed punch slipped through Clark's guard and struck his solar plexus, causing him to double over slightly despite his enhanced durability.
"Remember this in combat," Marcus said firmly. "No matter what our relationship might be outside of battle, you must treat me as your enemy! Your opponent!"
The words hit Clark like a physical blow. Suddenly he understood what Marcus was trying to teach him. This wasn't his gentle godfather offering guidance—this was a warrior testing his combat readiness against a truly dangerous adversary.
Clark's expression hardened as he finally grasped the lesson. His eyes became sharp and focused as he shifted into a proper fighting stance and threw a serious punch at Marcus's approaching fist.
BOOM!
The collision of their strikes created a thunderous sound that echoed across the farmland. The impact sent shockwaves through the ground beneath their feet, causing the earth to tremble with each exchange.
But neither fighter showed any sign of giving ground. Instead, they both intensified their efforts, launching into a full-scale demonstration of the Crushing Fist techniques with escalating speed and power.
Clark felt a surge of exhilaration as he finally unleashed his abilities without restraint. For the first time ever, he could use the Crushing Fist at full strength in a real environment, knowing that his opponent was skilled enough to handle whatever force he could generate.
Their movements became increasingly rapid, creating afterimages as they traded blows with superhuman speed. The vibrations in the ground grew more pronounced with each exchange, though fortunately not strong enough to cause panic among the local population.
Inside the farmhouse, Martha was preparing breakfast when she felt the tremors beginning. She walked toward the door to ask the two fighters to tone it down, but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw what was happening outside.
Multiple figures of both Clark and Marcus appeared to be fighting simultaneously across the yard—dozens of afterimages created by their incredible speed making it look like an army was engaged in combat.
"Jonathan!" Martha called, her voice filled with amazement.
Jonathan hurried to the door, wondering why his wife sounded so shocked. The moment he stepped outside, he found himself just as stunned as Martha.
While they'd always known that both Marcus and Clark possessed extraordinary abilities, they'd never witnessed anything approaching this level of superhuman combat. The speed and power on display were beyond anything they could have imagined.
"How powerful is Marcus, really?" Jonathan wondered aloud.
When they'd first met Marcus on the day they found Clark, they'd assumed he was simply an unusual traveler. Later, when he'd demonstrated some supernatural abilities, they'd been impressed but not overwhelmed.
Now, watching Marcus not just keep pace with Clark but actually maintain dominance throughout their sparring match, Jonathan and Martha began to realize they'd never truly understood what their old friend was capable of.
As the battle continued, the intensity gradually began to decrease. While both fighters were clearly enjoying the challenge, they weren't actually enemies, and some attacks were being pulled at the last moment to avoid causing real harm.
More importantly, the ground tremors were becoming strong enough to potentially attract unwanted attention from neighbors or authorities—a situation that would be difficult to explain.
Finally, after one last exchange where their fists met with perfect timing, both fighters stepped back and called an end to the session.
"Well," Marcus said with approval, "your mastery of the Crushing Ruin has reached a respectable level. But if you want to continue improving, you need to learn true control over your superpowers."
"But I already control my abilities very well," Clark protested. "I've lived my entire life without anyone discovering my powers, except for a few isolated incidents that couldn't be avoided."
"That's right," Martha and Jonathan added, approaching the two fighters. "Clark has always been extremely careful about keeping his abilities secret."
Marcus nodded, unsurprised by their perspective. From their point of view, Clark's power management had indeed been exemplary.
"The control I'm talking about is completely different from what you're thinking," Marcus explained.
Without warning, he released his bio-force field, creating an energy signature that felt remarkably similar to Clark's own power. Clark, being closest to Marcus, immediately sensed the familiar resonance.
"This is the power I extracted from you," Marcus said casually. "What do you think this ability can accomplish?"
The statement left everyone staring in shocked confusion. None of them had any idea when or how Marcus had managed to sample Clark's abilities, much less how he was now able to replicate them.
Marcus smiled at their bewildered expressions and clenched his fist, concentrating the bio-force field around his arm. Dust particles from the ground began floating upward, swirling around his limb in complex patterns.
"Clark can only be considered proficient in using his powers," Marcus said. "True mastery means being able to utilize your abilities with incredible precision and creativity."
Without warning, Marcus's eyes flared red as twin beams of heat vision erupted from them. But instead of firing straight forward like Clark typically did, the thermal energy followed the bio-force field around Marcus's arm, weaving between the floating dust particles in an intricate dance of controlled destruction.
BOOM!
Marcus threw what appeared to be a casual punch at a large boulder on the farm property. Despite using no more physical force than an average human might generate, his fist easily punched through the stone, leaving behind a perfectly round hole surrounded by molten rock.
The heat vision continued to spiral around Marcus's arm even after the attack, the thermal energy maintaining its complex pattern without dissipating.
Clark stared in amazement. While he could certainly generate heat vision, he'd never considered using it as a supplementary weapon that enhanced his physical strikes. The level of control required to maintain such precise energy manipulation while engaging in combat was staggering.
"Protecting your secret identity is important," Marcus continued, "but only by achieving complete mastery over your abilities can you reach your true potential."
He turned to his other arm and exhaled gently. Under the influence of his super-breath, the expelled air crystallized into ice particles that began swirling around his limb, creating a stark contrast to the fire dancing around his other arm.
"Can you do this?" Marcus asked Clark, then brought his ice-wreathed hand down to touch the molten boulder.
The lava cooled instantly upon contact, while sharp ice crystals began forming across the stone's surface. Marcus now stood with one arm wreathed in controlled fire and the other surrounded by frozen air, demonstrating a level of power manipulation that seemed almost artistic in its complexity.
"Your abilities will continue growing stronger over time," Marcus explained, "so you don't need to worry about reaching some arbitrary limit. But if you want to become truly powerful, you must learn to control every aspect of your powers with absolute precision."
Clark looked down at his hands, his eyes beginning to glow faintly red as he considered attempting to replicate what he'd just witnessed.
"I'd suggest you not try that right now," Marcus warned immediately.
Clark stopped and looked up questioningly.
"You haven't achieved complete mastery of your abilities yet," Marcus explained. "This level of control would be extremely difficult for you at your current skill level."
"But how were you able to master my powers to this extent in just a few days?" Clark asked.
"Me?" Marcus smiled and patted Clark's broad shoulders. "We're fundamentally different. My control over energy operates on a level you can't imagine yet."
Marcus's connection to the Void gave him unprecedented command over all forms of energy. Since he was essentially a living manifestation of Void power, he could achieve perfect control over any ability he absorbed.
"When you can perform techniques like this," Marcus said, casually flicking his finger toward a wooden post about twenty yards away, "then you'll be considered ready for intermediate training."
Everyone stared intently at the post, but nothing seemed to happen.
Several seconds later, the wooden structure suddenly collapsed, disintegrating into a neat pile of identically sized sawdust particles.
Clark's enhanced vision had caught the attack—an invisible cutting force so precisely controlled that it had sliced the post into thousands of perfectly uniform pieces in less than a heartbeat.
The demonstration finally showed Clark the true gap between his current abilities and what was possible with genuine mastery. He'd been using his powers like a sledgehammer when they could be wielded like a surgeon's scalpel.
From that day forward, Clark dedicated himself to achieving the level of control Marcus had demonstrated. In addition to his daily Crushing Ruin practice, he spent hours trying to manipulate his powers with greater precision.
Most of his efforts focused on super-breath techniques, attempting to create ice crystals that would orbit around his arms like Marcus had shown. But despite countless attempts, he couldn't manage to attract even a single ice particle to follow his commands.
The level of multitasking and energy control required was proving far more challenging than Clark had anticipated.
Meanwhile, deep in space...
"Are you certain the signal originated from this direction?" asked a figure in dark armor, his voice carrying the authority of someone accustomed to absolute obedience.
The woman standing beside him at the ship's controls nodded confidently. "Yes, General Zod. The Kryptonian beacon was definitely transmitted from this system."
General Zod's scarred face showed grim satisfaction. He knew exactly who was responsible for that signal—the only person still alive who could activate technology bearing the House of El family crest.
Kal-El. Jor-El's son. The child who had been sent away from Krypton carrying the most precious treasure of their entire civilization.
"I will reclaim the Codex," Zod declared, his eyes burning with fanatic determination. "Once we possess it again, we can rebuild Krypton exactly as it should be."
He could already envision the glorious new world they would create—a perfect Krypton without the corruption and decay that had destroyed their original home. The weak-willed council members who had ignored his warnings would be replaced by strong leadership. The chaotic elements that had led to their planet's destruction would be eliminated entirely.
It didn't matter that achieving this dream would require killing Jor-El's son. Zod had already murdered his former friend with his own hands when the scientist had tried to interfere with his plans. What was one more death in service to Krypton's rebirth?
"General," his lieutenant reported, "navigation confirms we're approaching the target system. We should arrive at the signal's origin point within hours."
"Excellent," Zod replied, his expression becoming predatory. "The task of rebuilding Krypton falls to us, and we will not fail."
He cared nothing for whatever backward civilization had raised Kal-El. A Kryptonian educated by primitives would pose no threat to a trained military commander like himself. The boy might possess the Codex, but he would lack the knowledge and discipline to use it effectively.
"Jor-El," Zod murmured to himself, "in the end, I was right and you were wrong. I will take the Codex from your son, and he will become the foundation upon which I rebuild our world."
The thought of finally achieving his ultimate goal filled Zod with savage joy. Soon, a new Krypton would rise from the ashes of the old, and he would be its undisputed ruler.
Back on Earth...
While Clark continued his training, a news story broke that captured global attention.
An offshore oil drilling platform had suffered a catastrophic accident that should have resulted in numerous casualties. The rig was located miles from shore in rough seas, making rescue operations nearly impossible under normal circumstances.
Yet somehow, every single worker on the platform had survived without injury.
According to survivor testimonies, a powerful man had appeared during the disaster and personally transported all of them to safety through the churning waters. The stories were remarkably consistent—a figure of incredible strength had carried boat after boat of survivors to shore, moving through the ocean as easily as walking on land.
If only one person had reported such an encounter, it might have been dismissed as hallucination or shock-induced fantasy. But dozens of witnesses were telling the same story, making it impossible to ignore.
"The person in the news definitely isn't ordinary," Selina observed, swirling a glass of champagne as she lounged on Bruce's couch.
Bruce was hunched over multiple monitors, analyzing every piece of available footage from the incident. "The surveillance cameras that were recovered show a man was indeed present, but his face never appears clearly in any of the recordings."
Based on the evidence, Bruce was convinced that someone with genuine superhuman abilities had been responsible for the rescue. Even with his and Selina's enhanced physical capabilities—strength sufficient to slice through steel bars with casual sword strikes—neither of them could have accomplished what these witnesses described.
Moving that many people through turbulent ocean waters would require power far beyond normal human limits, even enhanced human limits.
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