The twenty-year estrangement dissolved like morning mist, and suddenly they were back to the way things used to be – teacher and students sharing stories and discoveries with the easy familiarity of family.
Marcus continued the holographic presentation, cycling through images from dozens of different worlds and civilizations. The three of them watched in fascination as alien landscapes, impossible architectures, and exotic life forms paraded before their eyes. Some scenes were clearly from Earth-like planets, while others showed environments so bizarre they challenged the very definition of what constituted a livable world.
"I never realized aliens could look so different from us," Selina murmured, staring at an image of what appeared to be a sentient tree walking through a cosmic forest. "I guess I just assumed they'd all be humanoid like the Kryptonians."
The projection shifted to show beings made of living crystal, others that seemed to be composed entirely of energy, and creatures that defied easy categorization. Gas-based life forms drifted through methane atmospheres while silicon-based entities communicated through harmonic vibrations that could shatter mountains.
"The universe is far more diverse than most people imagine," Marcus explained. "Carbon-based life like humans is actually relatively uncommon. We just happen to notice it more because it's similar to what we understand."
Bruce studied the images with his usual analytical intensity. "Each of these species must have developed completely different technologies, different approaches to science and society."
"Exactly. And that diversity is what makes traveling between worlds so educational. Every civilization faces similar challenges – resource scarcity, population growth, conflicts between different groups – but their solutions are often radically different from anything we'd consider on Earth."
The display showed cities that floated in gas giant atmospheres, underwater civilizations with architecture based on coral growth patterns, and space-born cultures that had never known the concept of planetary surfaces.
"But enough of the grand tour," Marcus said with a smile, dismissing the holographic display. "I haven't been back to Gotham in far too long. Let's take this chance to visit home properly."
The Railjack Dark Aster began moving away from Earth's orbit, taking General Zod's captured ship with it. Marcus led Bruce and Selina to the vessel's lower hangar bay, where Will was systematically dismantling the Kryptonian technology with mechanical precision.
The sight was both fascinating and slightly disturbing. The alien ship, which had seemed so imposing and threatening during the battle, was being taken apart like a complex puzzle. Advanced components were sorted, catalogued, and transported to various analysis stations throughout the Railjack Dark Aster.
"Kryptonian technology is highly regarded throughout the galaxy," Marcus explained as they watched robotic arms carefully extract crystalline control matrices. "Their approach to science emphasizes biological integration and sustainable energy sources. Most of their technology is essentially living crystal that grows rather than being manufactured."
From the dismantling bay, Marcus led them to the detention area where Zod and his surviving followers were being held. The sight that greeted them was deeply unsettling.
The Kryptonian prisoners were suspended in human-shaped restraints, their faces pale and contorted with obvious pain. Their bodies trembled with what appeared to be fever, and their breathing was shallow and labored.
"What's happening to them?" Bruce asked, though his tone suggested he suspected the answer wouldn't be pleasant.
"The cruel irony of Kryptonian biology," Marcus replied, his voice carrying a note of genuine sympathy. "Their greatest strength is also their greatest weakness. Under a yellow sun like Earth's, they become godlike – stronger, faster, nearly invulnerable. But expose them to radiation from their home planet's destruction, and their enhanced physiology turns against them."
Selina stared at the writhing prisoners with a mixture of pity and horror. "You mean the kryptonite is poisoning them?"
"More than that. Their bodies have been fundamentally altered by Earth's solar radiation, enhanced in ways that Krypton's red sun never allowed. When kryptonite forces that enhancement into reverse, it's like every cell in their body is being torn apart and rebuilt simultaneously. The pain is... considerable."
Bruce examined the restraint systems with professional interest. The technology was clearly beyond anything Earth had developed, but the principle was simple enough – keep the prisoners weak and contained without actually killing them.
"It seems excessive," he said finally.
"Perhaps. But Zod and his followers were willing to commit genocide to achieve their goals. Comfortable imprisonment seems like a reasonable compromise under the circumstances."
They moved on from the detention area to the Railjack Dark Aster's main hangar, where a sleek landing craft waited for them. The smaller vessel was elegant in its simplicity, clearly designed for atmospheric flight rather than deep space travel.
"First time on a spaceship?" Marcus asked with amusement as Bruce and Selina strapped themselves into acceleration couches.
"Unless you count the time we accidentally ended up in the Batplane's experimental vertical takeoff mode," Selina replied dryly. "That was more of a barely controlled crash than actual flight."
The landing craft separated from the Railjack Dark Aster with barely a vibration, its advanced propulsion systems providing the kind of smooth acceleration that Earth's chemical rockets could only dream of achieving. Through the transparent hull, they watched Earth grow larger as they descended through the upper atmosphere.
"Won't we show up on radar?" Bruce asked, studying the planet's curve as it filled their view. "After the Kryptonian attack, every government on Earth is probably watching the skies for unusual activity."
"Look behind us," Marcus suggested. "Can you still see the ship?"
Bruce twisted in his seat to look back toward where the massive ship should have been visible. There was nothing – just empty space and distant stars.
"Cloaking technology," Marcus explained. "Both the Railjack Dark Aster and this landing craft use advanced stealth systems that bend electromagnetic radiation around them. To Earth's sensors, we simply don't exist."
The craft descended rapidly through the atmosphere, its systems automatically adjusting for air resistance and weather patterns. Soon they were flying over the familiar landscape of Gotham.
Wayne Manor looked exactly as Marcus remembered it – a stately mansion that managed to project both wealth and subtle menace. The grounds were immaculately maintained, the architecture solid and imposing without being ostentatious. It was exactly the kind of place where someone might train themselves to become a guardian of the night.
"I wonder if Alfred's cooking has improved over the years," Marcus mused as the landing craft touched down on the mansion's lawn with barely a whisper of displaced air.
"Alfred has been studying culinary arts as a hobby," Bruce said with evident fondness. "When he's not managing the house or helping me with Batman activities, he's been experimenting with cuisine from around the world."
"Alfred's been making some remarkable dishes lately," Selina added. "He claims it keeps his mind sharp to learn new techniques."
The manor's interior was exactly as Marcus remembered – warm wood paneling, comfortable furniture that had been selected for durability rather than fashion, and the subtle smell of lemon oil and old books that seemed to permeate every room. It felt like stepping back in time, as if the past twenty years had been nothing more than an extended dream.
"Mr. Marcus, welcome home."
Alfred emerged from the kitchen with the same unflappable dignity he'd possessed decades earlier. His hair was completely white now, and there were more lines around his eyes, but his posture remained perfectly straight and his smile was genuinely warm.
"Hello, Alfred," Marcus replied, accepting the butler's formal handshake. "You look well."
"As do you, sir. Remarkably well, if I may say so." Alfred's eyes held a knowing glint. "I recognized you from the news footage of the Metropolis incident, though I suspect most viewers were too focused on the spectacle to notice the resemblance to certain statues in Gotham."
"You always were observant."
"It's a necessary skill in this household. Dinner is ready, if you'd care to join us in the dining room. I've prepared several of your favorite dishes, though I confess my memory of your preferences may not be entirely accurate after so many years."
The dining room table was set with Wayne family china and laden with an impressive array of dishes. Alfred had clearly put considerable effort into the meal – there was roasted lamb with rosemary, fresh bread that was still warm from the oven, several varieties of cheese, and a selection of wines that probably cost more than most people's annual salaries.
"This is incredible, Alfred," Marcus said, sampling a grape from the fruit bowl. The sweetness exploded across his palate, rich and complex in a way that suggested the fruit had been selected with extreme care. "You've definitely improved since the last time I was here."
"One strives for excellence in all endeavors, sir."
They ate in companionable silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. For Marcus, the meal was a reminder of what he'd missed during his travels between worlds – the simple pleasure of sharing food with people who mattered to him. For Bruce and Selina, it was the first time in decades that Wayne Manor had felt like a true home rather than just a base of operations.
After dinner, they retired to the mansion's main sitting room, where Alfred served coffee and small pastries that were somehow both elegant and comforting.
"Mr. Marcus," Alfred said, settling into his favorite chair with obvious satisfaction, "I must say I was quite impressed by the news coverage of your activities in Metropolis. It's been many years since I've seen you in action."
"It was hardly my best work," Marcus replied modestly. "More of a training exercise than a real battle."
"Perhaps, but it was educational for those of us who remember your earlier... interventions... in Gotham's affairs." Alfred's gaze moved to the window, through which the lights of Gotham City were visible in the distance. "The Central Church has become something of a pilgrimage site, you know. People come from around the world to see the statue and pray for protection."
Marcus felt a warm glow of satisfaction. The power he'd invested in that statue all those years ago had grown and evolved, fed by the faith and hope of Gotham's citizens. It had become exactly what he'd intended – a beacon of protection in a city that desperately needed such symbols.
"Speaking of the church," Bruce continued, "we encountered something interesting there recently. An exorcist named Constantine used the church's power to help someone who'd been possessed by a demon."
That got Marcus's full attention. "Constantine? John Constantine?"
"You know him?"
"Of him. He's famous in certain circles – a demonologist who walks the line between light and dark magic. Not always the most pleasant individual, but generally on the side of humanity when it matters." Marcus frowned. "But more importantly, you said there was a new demon in Gotham?"
Bruce and Selina exchanged glances. "That's what worried us too. We thought the seal you placed on the city would prevent any new demonic incursions."
Marcus reached out with his senses, feeling for the power he'd left invested in Gotham's spiritual infrastructure. The statue's energy was intact, even stronger than when he'd left it thanks to decades of accumulated faith and prayer. The dimensional barriers around the city remained solid, with no sign of weakening or breach.
"The seal is fine," he said slowly. "Which means any demons in the area didn't come from the Hell dimensions I blocked. They must have originated somewhere else."
"Constantine said the possessed man lived near Gotham, not in the city itself," Selina clarified. "He brought him to the church because it was the safest place to perform the exorcism."
"That's... concerning. If demons are appearing in the region but not coming through the dimensional weak points I sealed, it suggests they're being summoned by someone. Demon summoning requires considerable magical knowledge and usually involves making deals that no sane person would accept."
Alfred cleared his throat politely. "Forgive me for interrupting, but is there any immediate danger to Gotham's residents?"
"Probably not," Marcus replied, though his expression remained troubled. "The church's protection extends throughout the city, and demons generally avoid areas with strong divine blessing. But if someone is actively summoning demonic entities in the surrounding area..."
"We should probably find Constantine and get more information," Bruce suggested.
"Agreed. But that can wait until tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to enjoy being home." Marcus leaned back in his chair, gazing around the familiar room with obvious contentment. "It's strange how much you can miss a place without realizing it."
Meanwhile, several hundred miles away in Kansas, Clark Kent was experiencing his own reunion. He landed softly in the farmyard behind the Kent house, his cape settling around him as he touched down on the familiar soil where he'd played as a child.
Lois Lane emerged from the house behind him, her reporter's instincts still analyzing everything she saw even though the immediate crisis had passed. The farm was exactly what she'd expected – neat, well-maintained, with the kind of honest simplicity that seemed to define Clark's character.
"Clark!" Martha Kent rushed out of the house, her face glowing with relief and joy. Behind her came Jonathan, moving more slowly but with the same expression of parental love and concern.
Clark swept his adoptive mother into a gentle hug, being careful not to let his enhanced strength cause any harm. After thirty-three years, he still sometimes forgot how fragile normal humans could be compared to him.
"I'm fine, Mom," he said softly. "Everything's okay now."
"We saw the news," Jonathan said, gripping Clark's shoulder with weathered hands. "When we saw you fighting those other Kryptonians... we were so worried."
"I had help," Clark replied, thinking of his mysterious teacher and the two warriors who'd fought alongside him. "People I can trust."
Lois watched the family reunion with professional interest and personal warmth. The love between Clark and his adoptive parents was obvious and genuine, the kind of bond that had shaped him into the man she'd fallen in love with.
"Mom, Dad," Clark said, turning to include Lois in the conversation, "I'd like you to meet Lois Lane. She's... she's very important to me."
Martha and Jonathan exchanged the kind of look that parents share when they see their child has found someone special. They'd been waiting for this moment for years, hoping Clark would find someone who could accept both sides of his nature.
"Lois," Martha said warmly, "it's wonderful to meet you. Clark has told us so much about you."
"All good things, I hope," Lois replied with a smile that was only slightly nervous.
"Very good things," Jonathan confirmed. "He's been happier these past few months than we've seen him in years."
As the four of them walked toward the house, Clark felt a deep sense of contentment settling over him. He'd found his origins, faced his people's legacy, and emerged with his humanity intact. He had his family, his love, and a future that seemed brighter than it had in years.
The Kryptonian race would continue, but it would do so as part of Earth rather than in place of it. Just as his father Jor-El had hoped, Clark would be the bridge between two worlds, the living symbol that different peoples could coexist and grow stronger together.
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