"Mhm…"
Martha Kent stirred awake, her head pounding with a sharp, needle-like pain. Every part of her body felt drained, as though her life had been wrung dry.
"Mom?"
Hearing her voice, Adrian let out a long, shaky breath of relief.
He moved to her bedside, taking her cool hand gently into his own. "How do you feel? Any pain? Anything uncomfortable?"
"I'm fine," Martha replied softly, trying to steady her breathing. She lay still for a moment, allowing her foggy mind to clear.
"What… what happened to me?" she asked, moistening her lips.
"Nothing serious. You're safe now," Adrian said, patting her hand reassuringly.
Moments ago, he had used the Cosmic Staff to remove the trace radiation left behind by the Kryptonian ship's energy. Once that foreign energy was purged, her life force—nearly extinguished—had rekindled. Her still heart had begun to beat again. Her lungs drew breath. Life returned to her.
"Did you… save me, Adrian?"
Martha's memories were fractured, but she remembered the edge of death clearly. Her consciousness had slipped away, her heartbeat slowing, the world fading into a suffocating darkness.
Now, she was awake again—with no doctors, no machines, only her son sitting quietly beside her.
Even a skeptic would recognize that something extraordinary had happened.
"I don't know," Adrian said quietly. He didn't mention the Staff. "I tried to neutralize the energy in your body. I wasn't sure if it would work… but you're awake now. That's what matters."
Martha smiled faintly. Her hand trembled as she reached out to cup his face. "Adrian… I don't know how you did it, but thank you."
He helped her sit up a little, letting her rest against the pillow. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at him. "I was so close to leaving you, Clark, and your father. That thought terrified me. I'm just… so grateful I don't have to say goodbye yet."
Adrian's cold composure softened. He gripped her hand firmly. "You won't have to. Clark and I—we'll never leave you."
At that moment, the hospital door creaked open. Dr. Helen Bryce froze at the sight before her—Martha Kent, alive, sitting upright, speaking.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "How… how is this possible?"
Helen hurried over, instinct taking over as she examined Martha. She pressed the stethoscope to her chest—strong heartbeat, steady pulse, normal breathing.
"What happened?" she demanded, looking to Adrian. "Her vitals were gone minutes ago—she was clinically dead!"
Adrian met her gaze calmly. "I don't know. Maybe she was never gone to begin with."
Helen's mind raced. Bright light, shockwaves, sudden energy fluctuations—all when Adrian was in the room. She thought of Clark's strange blood, the impossible readings from his test.
Her voice trembled slightly. "You and Clark… you're not—"
"I don't know," Martha interrupted gently, smiling faintly. "Maybe it was a miracle, Doctor. Like when I couldn't have children, and then… I had Clark."
Helen blinked, thrown off by the simple warmth in Martha's tone.
When she stepped into the hallway moments later, Adrian followed.
"Doctor Helen."
She stopped.
"I need a favor," he said quietly.
"What kind of favor?"
"I want you to forget that my mother's heart stopped," Adrian said, his tone even. "Leave that detail out of your report."
Helen frowned. "I can't falsify a medical record. That's not negotiable."
Adrian nodded slightly. "Understood. Then give me Clark's blood sample."
Helen hesitated. "That sample is highly confidential. You know what kind of reaction it would cause if anyone saw the data."
Adrian stepped closer, his expression unreadable. "You've already analyzed it, haven't you? You know how dangerous it would be if people learned the truth. Keeping it hidden protects everyone."
His voice was calm, but there was weight in it—an unspoken command.
Helen swallowed hard. "Alright."
She led him to the lab and handed over a vial of crimson liquid.
"So…" she began hesitantly, "are you like Clark?"
Adrian glanced at her, not answering. "I heard you're engaged to Lex Luthor, right?"
Her brow furrowed. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"If I were you," Adrian said coldly, leaning closer, "I'd keep that blood report safe. Lex doesn't trust anyone—not even you."
Helen froze. He turned and walked away, leaving her alone with her unease.
Outside, under the dim corridor lights, Adrian looked down at the vial of Clark's blood. His eyes glowed faintly red. He could destroy it with a glance—but he didn't. Instead, he pocketed it. Some things were better controlled than erased.
Moments later, Jonathan Kent rushed through the hospital doors, his face pale with panic.
"Martha!" he exclaimed, rushing into the room.
Seeing his wife alive, he nearly collapsed with relief.
"I got a call from the hospital—they said you were—"
"I'm fine," Martha said, smiling. "Ask Adrian. He saved me."
Jonathan turned to his son, confusion flickering in his eyes.
Adrian's explanation was simple. "It was the ship. Maybe I absorbed something from it—radiation, energy, I don't know. When I touched Mom, it reacted. That's all."
It was a half-truth, but Jonathan didn't press. He trusted Adrian more than he understood him.
"Clark's still at home," he said quietly. "Go see him. I'll stay with your mom."
Adrian nodded and left.
In the corridor, Dr. Helen waited again, holding a report in her hand. "You were right," she said softly. "Sometimes, people just aren't ready for the truth."
Adrian took the folder, glanced at the data inside—Clark's blood analysis—then walked away without another word.
When he returned home, Clark was sprawled on the sofa, pale and sweating. Adrian held the Cosmic Staff in one hand and placed it over his brother's chest. A warm golden light filled the room.
Half an hour later, Clark stirred.
"Adrian…?"
"About time," Adrian said, sitting nearby. "You've been out three, maybe four hours. Good to see you're still breathing."
Clark sat up weakly. "Did you… fix me?"
"In a way," Adrian said, pouring himself a glass of lemonade. "You and Mom are both fine now."
"But how?"
"Call it magic," Adrian replied flatly, taking a sip.
Clark frowned. "You told me that kind of power always has a cost. So what did it take from you?"
Adrian paused, then looked at him. "That's not important. Life always takes something from us. Be grateful we get to choose when."
He stood and glanced back at Clark. "What you should really be worrying about is how to explain your blood results to Dr. Helen."
Clark blinked, caught off guard. Adrian smirked faintly, then disappeared upstairs.
In his room, he sat on the edge of his bed, the Cosmic Staff reduced to wand size. He raised it, and a golden glow shimmered at its tip.
If he wanted to, he could purge the Kryptonian energy running through him. Remove it—and lose the strength that came with it.
The light flickered, then faded.
Adrian lowered the Staff.
No, he thought.
Weakness could be managed. Power was far too valuable to waste.