After throwing Obadiah into space, Clark returned to Earth.
Why did he toss Obadiah into space? It was because Clark, in his entire life, had never killed anyone. He could accept someone dying in battle by accident, but personally executing a defenseless person? That was something he simply couldn't bring himself to do.
Obadiah had already lost the ability to fight back. If Clark were to punch him in the head now, he knew he couldn't do it—it wasn't who he was. He wasn't Superman, not yet. But he still had his morals.
As for letting Obadiah go? That was a joke. If it weren't for Clark's powers, he and his mother Mary might've been on their way to meet Death himself by now.
So, Clark thought it through—the best way was to send him into space. That way, he didn't have to kill him directly, and he wouldn't have to worry about facing him again.
"Hey, man. What did you do to my uncle?"
When Clark landed, Tony walked up and asked.
Actually, Tony had wanted to follow Clark and see how he would deal with it—but his arc reactor was low on power, and Jarvis had told him that with his current speed, he'd never catch up.
"I sent him to be a satellite," Clark replied, pointing at the sky.
"Hmm. I hope he's alright."
Tony's feelings were complicated. Obadiah had just stolen his arc reactor and admitted to ordering his kidnapping. Tony had once looked up to the man. Hearing Clark sent him into space... Tony didn't know how to feel. In the end, all he could do was let out a long sigh.
"Clark! Are you okay?"
Mary had been watching the whole time from behind, and now rushed forward.
"I'm fine… uh…"
Clark patted the dust off his shirt—but quickly realized, his clothes were shredded by high-speed flight. Strips of fabric hung everywhere. He looked anything but "fine."
"You're okay, that's all that matters."
Mary looked him over and, seeing no injuries, finally relaxed. She wrapped him in a hug.
"Next time something this dangerous happens, don't just run into it. Let someone else deal with it."
"Hey, ma'am, with all due respect, I think your son handled that just fine. In fact, I'd say I got it worse than him. Didn't you see the way he beat that big guy up?"
Tony, who had taken off his helmet and was still recovering from the fight, couldn't help but snark—again.
"Tony!"
Just then, a familiar voice called out behind him. Tony turned—and saw Pepper running toward him.
She threw herself into his arms.
"You're okay."
"I'm okay."
Tony gently patted her on the back.
"Clark? Mary? Are you two alright?!"
As always in these kinds of stories, the police arrived last. And Clark's father, Jonathan Kent, was no exception.
Once the area was secured, Jonathan arrived with a group of officers.
"What took you so long?" Mary asked, frustrated.
"Mary, I can't fly. And besides, I made it in sixteen minutes flat from the station."
Then he turned to Iron Man.
"Oh right, is that the big robot you mentioned?"
Jonathan knew better than to argue with his wife, so he redirected the topic—gesturing toward Tony.
"Is that… Tony Stark?"
"No, not him," Mary replied, shaking her head. Then she looked at Clark.
Clark understood. He said to Jonathan:
"The big robot's taken care of. Everything's fine now. I'll explain everything once we get home."
"Alright, we'll talk at home."
Jonathan noticed Clark's tattered clothes and lack of injuries. He suspected something major had happened—but this wasn't the place to talk. Too many people around.
Clark didn't bother with whatever Tony had to do next. He and his mother got into the car Jonathan arranged, and went home first.
Maybe it was because S.H.I.E.L.D. took over the scene, but surprisingly, Jonathan made it home quite early that night.
"So, how was dinner tonight?"
Back home, Jonathan didn't immediately ask about the battle. Instead, he asked about the blind date Clark was supposed to go on.
"Not great. Your son said the girl's face was too square. Not his type."
Mary shrugged, signaling the date hadn't worked out.
"Alright. So—can you tell me what happened tonight?"
"From what I gathered at the scene: first, there were two robots fighting. Then someone appeared, defeated the big one, could fly, and shoot lasers from his eyes."
Jonathan turned to Clark. It was clear—he suspected that person was his son.
"If I'm right, the small robot was Tony Stark. And Clark… you were the one who beat the big one, weren't you?"
Clark nodded.
"That was me. Ever since I was little, I've heard voices. My body's been getting stronger ever since—like in the Superman movies. Eventually, I gained super strength, telescopic vision, and heat vision."
After Clark said that, Mary and Jonathan fell silent.
Clark hadn't expected them to stay so calm. From their expressions, he realized—
they had known.
Jonathan took a deep breath. His face seemed to age in an instant.
"Clark, wait here a moment."
He turned to Mary.
"Mary, please bring me the box."
Clark didn't move. He sat quietly, watching.
Jonathan gently tapped Mary's hand.
"Go on. He's grown up. He deserves to know."
Mary nodded and left the room. A moment later, she returned holding a small black box—just bigger than a palm.
Jonathan handed it to Clark.
"Here. Open it."
Clark took the box, curious. Inside was a black bracelet.
He picked it up. It looked… ordinary. Smooth. No markings. Just plain black.
"What is this?"
"We don't know. Maybe it's just a bracelet.
But it came down to Earth with you, so it might be related to your origins.
We've kept it all these years—until now."
Jonathan looked at the bracelet, eyes full of emotion. So many years had passed.
"I came to Earth with it? Are you saying… I'm an alien?"
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