It had been three days since Selina left home.
We hadn't spoken about the kiss. We hadn't spoken at all. I only visited Wayne Manor once — just long enough to hand Alfred her schoolbooks — then left.
My talk with Ma that day hadn't gone nearly as badly as I expected. She simply called Martha and asked her to look after Selina for a few days. Apparently, Ma understood Selina's need to get away from everything. She didn't blame her. She didn't get angry. She just… accepted it.
The house felt painfully empty without Pa's voice or Selina's footsteps.
Too empty.
Too quiet.
Ma wasn't alone, at least — Laura and Nell checked in on her often. They hovered like mother hens, dragging her out for coffee or chores or anything to keep her busy. Lana and Chloe were the same with me; they stopped by whenever they could, trying their best to cheer me up.
And Laura… well, she took it upon herself to "help me forget" the pain of losing my father. It worked a little too well. I had definitely fallen in love with her special talents, especially her servicing skills.
But with difficulty I forced myself to push every distraction aside. Even took a break from school.
I wanted to focus on one thing — one single, impossible thing:
Flight.
Usually, I am an optimistic person. Maybe it's the sunlight. Maybe it's innate Kryptonian biology making my mood sunny and bright. But lately… that light had dimmed.
I wasn't just grieving Pa.
Something deeper had been eating at me — this feeling that I was wrestling with fate itself. That the "canon" events of this world were ticking along one by one, tragedy after tragedy, and I was always one step too slow to stop them.
And with each failure, a darker thought crept in:
If I didn't get stronger — fast — more people I loved would die.
If I were just a normal person, I would eventually accept all of this.
Call it fate.
Call it nature.
Call it life being unfair.
Tragedy comes without warning. Humans accept that, endure it, and move forward because they must.
But I wasn't normal.
I wasn't even human.
I was an alien — a Kryptonian from a dead world.
A reincarnated soul who had already died once.
I knew too much. I had read too many stories where Superman could do anything!
So how could I accept that tragedies would keep happening around me?
How could I accept that I couldn't stop them?
Accepting fate was just not in my nature.
But doubt had been suffocating me.
If I couldn't even fly — if I couldn't overcome something as basic as gravity — how was I supposed to fight fate itself?
Try after try, jump after jump…
Higher, higher… then crash.
Higher… then crash again.
The quarry was full of potholes — a graveyard of failed attempts.
Hope… Superman was supposed to embody it.
Yet here I was, losing mine — one failed launch at a time.
"What are you doing, Clark?" I muttered, fingers digging into the dirt.
"You're lying on the ground while countless tragedies are happening out there… people praying for a better tomorrow… for someone to save them."
My fist tightened.
"How much longer are you going to stay down?"
I gritted my teeth.
"Come on… GET UP AND FLY!"
I blasted upward with everything I had.
No sound.
No struggle.
Just movement — straight through the air, breaking past the clouds in an instant.
Warm sunlight washed over me, and for a heartbeat I felt it — the instinct, the thrill, the possibility.
Then gravity reclaimed me.
I dropped straight back down into the quarry.
No crater this time.
My body slowed itself instinctively before touching the ground — a reflex I hadn't fully understood yet.
Still, frustration slipped in immediately.
The progress I made each day was microscopic compared to the effort I poured in.
My anxiety was growing, day by day, pressing on my chest until I could hardly think about anything else.
I had even stopped training my other powers.
Flight wasn't just a goal anymore — it had become an obsession.
I wanted to punch the ground. To scream. To break boulders just to vent the pressure inside me…
But I would only end up destroying another quarry again.
So I stood still, fists clenched, jaw tight.
I wasn't thinking about science anymore.
Not about solar energy or Kryptonian biology.
Not about aerodynamic lift or mental focus.
I just wanted to fly.
I needed to fly.
I tried to hype myself up even when doubt kept creeping in.
Maybe I was still too young.
Maybe being reincarnated had changed something.
Maybe I would never fly — maybe I was just a man who could jump really, really high.
"No… it's not enough," I growled, fists tightening.
"I have to be better… I have to be stronger… I have to be more than a man…"
My voice echoed through the quarry.
"I have to become Superman!"
I launched myself upward again — past the quarry, past the wind, past the clouds.
The sky opened up around me — endless blue stretching forever.
The sun blazed above, pouring warmth into my skin, into my bones, into everything I was.
I closed my eyes, soaking in that energy… and when I opened them again—
—I was still floating.
Still in the sky.
"Haha…" a breath escaped me. "I… I did it. I'm flying!"
I leaned forward — and my body moved.
Effortless.
Natural.
"Wooohooo!" I roared as I rocketed forward, slicing through the clouds.
I dipped low, brushing my hand along a cloudbank — the mist parting through my fingers.
I flipped upside-down and dunked my whole face into a cloud, pulling back with a chilled gasp.
"Hah—! This is… honestly amazing!"
My heart raced, full of wonder and disbelief and pure excitement.
All the doubts, all the frustration, all the fear — gone in an instant.
After circling the sky again and again, I finally descended back into the quarry.
I touched down gently — and small pebbles rose around my feet, floating in the air as my body hovered inches above the ground.
"Amazing…" I whispered.
"Is this the bio-electric aura I'm supposed to have?"
Questions flooded my mind, but I shut them down.
There would be time to figure out the science later.
Right now?
I needed to show someone.
Someone who mattered.
Someone who deserved to see this first.
Instead of running out of the quarry like usual, I simply lifted off the ground and flew home — cutting through the sky and reaching the farmhouse almost instantly. And even when I stopped in midair, there was no sonic boom, no wind blast… nothing.
"How fast am I?" I muttered, staring at my hands like I still couldn't believe this was real.
"Ma! Come out, quick!"
"Clark? Why are you shouting—?" Ma stepped outside, wiping her hands on her apron, confusion on her face… until she looked up.
Her eyes widened.
Her jaw dropped.
"My god! Clark— y-you're…!"
"Flying?" I grinned, drifting lazily from side to side with a tilt of my shoulders. "Look, Ma! I can fly now!"
"H-How…?" she whispered, stunned.
"Hehehe, your son is just built different, Ma," I said with a proud chuckle as I floated down to hug her. "Come on — I want to show you something."
Before she could question it, I lifted us both gently into the air.
"Ah! Clark, put me down!" she yelped, clinging to my shoulders in panic.
"Relax, Ma. Just look around."
We rose above the farm, above the barns, above the treetops — until the clouds were brushing past us like soft mist. I had already scanned the whole area; no one outside, no one looking up. We were safe.
"We're really so… so high up!" Ma gasped, burying her face in my shoulder before peeking down again.
"Yes we are," I said proudly. "Look — I can touch the cloud!"
I slipped my hand through the white mist, letting the tiny droplets cling to my skin.
"You try."
Hesitantly, Ma reached out… and her fingers met the damp chill.
"Oh!" she squeaked. "It's wet!"
"See?" I laughed. "You're touching a cloud."
She stared at her hand, then at the sky around her, her eyes shining with childlike wonder.
"Wow… Clark, I'm really… touching a cloud."
"We can even fly through it," I said, and gently steered us forward, gliding through the white fluff a few times.
"O-Okay, stop—stop! My clothes are all wet now!" she said, laughing breathlessly.
"Hehe, sorry. How about we dry off a little?"
I carried her higher — just above the cloud layer — careful not to go too far. Even up here, the air was thinner, and her breaths were already a little unsteady.
"There are still clouds so high up," Ma whispered, staring at the towering white masses far above us.
"Yeah… I don't think there's much oxygen up there, Ma," I said with a small chuckle — though I would probably be fine.
"And the farm looks so small from here." She pointed excitedly, still gripping me tightly with her free hand. "Hey— I can even see the clock tower from here!"
I smiled. Through my enhanced vision, I could see far more — every detail of every field, every bird in the sky, every car miles away.
But none of that mattered right now.
This was the first time since Pa died that I had seen Ma genuinely laugh.
"But how are we even flying? You don't have wings… maybe it's magic — like those superheroes!" Ma said, patting my back as if checking just in case.
I couldn't help but laugh. "Alright, Ma — let's go down before the low oxygen makes you more dizzy."
We descended slowly, gently, until her feet touched solid ground again.
"Ooh— we're back," Ma exhaled, wobbling slightly.
"Careful," I said, keeping a firm hold on her as she steadied herself.
She looked at me then — really looked — and her eyes softened with awe and pride.
"That… that was something else. You're amazing, my son."
She held my face in both hands, her thumbs brushing my cheeks. "You truly are an angel who fell from the heavens… and I'm a bit glad you don't have wings." She let out a soft chuckle.
"I'm glad too, Ma," I laughed. "And hey — anytime you want to touch clouds again or try a little skydiving, I'll be at your service."
"No—no, that was plenty of excitement for this old heart," she said, laughing as she walked toward the porch chair. "But… oh goodness…"
Her gaze drifted upward again, to the open sky we had just been flying through.
Wonder lingered in her eyes.
"Ma… I want to ask you something," I said quietly as I knelt in front of her and took her hand.
"What is it, baby?" she asked, brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead.
"I want to see the ship… the spaceship I came in." I looked up at her carefully.
"Oh." Her expression softened into something wistful. "The ship… yes, of course."
She stood up slowly. "I always thought you might ask eventually. Honestly, I was surprised you hadn't yet. Just a minute, let me get something."
As she walked inside, I could hear her breathing hitch. Through the doorway, I saw her pick up the crystal — the small keepsake she kept safe all these years. She held it gently, shedding a silent tear before wiping it away and composing herself.
She returned with a smile, though it wavered at the edges.
"Here," she said, placing the crystal between us. "Jonathan found it inside the ship. It was the only thing you had with you. And… well, you already know where the ship is, don't you?"
Instead of taking it, I pulled her into a hug.
"Clark?" she whispered, startled.
"You don't have to worry, Ma," I murmured into her shoulder. "I'm not asking because I want to go back to wherever I came from. This is my home. You are my home. I'm Clark Kent — Martha Kent's son. That's never going to change."
She trembled against me, letting out a tiny, broken breath.
"Sniff… I just… I thought maybe you wanted to leave me too," she whispered, her voice cracking. "If you left… I would really have no one, Clark."
"How could I ever leave a mother as lovely as you?" I said with a soft laugh. "Who would finish all those delicious pancakes if I wasn't around?"
She let out a wet chuckle. "Sniff… yeah, I'd probably get fat then."
"You'd look adorable with a little extra weight," I said, smiling.
Her brows shot up. "Did you just call your mother fat?"
"I was kidding," I said quickly, laughing as I kissed her cheek. "I'm not going anywhere, Ma. I just need some… answers. That's all."
"Alright." She cupped my face gently, her thumb brushing my cheek. "I'm sorry for getting emotional."
"Hey, I don't do my laundry anyway," I said with a grin. "So you can soak my clothes whenever you want."
She gave me a look — half smirk, half fond exasperation. "Well, it looks like you'll have to start doing your own laundry from now on, young man."
She finally placed the crystal in my hand, her fingers lingering for a moment.
"I'm going to change my clothes and make lunch," she said softly as she headed back inside.
I smiled down at the black crystal in my hand. It was cool against my palm, the carved S at its top catching the light.
Walking toward the old shed beside the house, I lifted the locked floorboard with ease. I had always known where the ship was hidden, but there was never much reason to explore it before.
Now, though… now that I could fly anywhere — even to the Arctic or the North Pole if I wanted — it felt like the right time.
"It looks smaller than I remembered," I muttered as I dropped lightly into the pit below.
The red Kryptonian pod rested there, the same one that had carried me across the stars. Dusty. Still. Silent.
I placed my hand on its glass, memories of Krypton's destruction flashing vividly in my mind — that vision I saw years ago, the moment everything ended.
Then—
"Huh?"
The pod shimmered.
And then — impossibly — it dissolved.
The entire structure melted into a glowing, molten-red liquid that surged upward like living metal, wrapping around my arms, my chest—
"What the hell?!" I gasped as the luminous fluid climbed over me, hot but not burning, almost like it was reading me.
It pooled at the center of my chest and formed a perfect, bright red S-shield.
And then, just as quickly, it burst outward into a cloud of glowing red dust.
"Wh—what is happening?" I muttered, taking a step back, my heart hammering despite myself.
The floating dust swirled. Gathered.
Condensed.
A silhouette began to form — a woman's shape, elegant and impossibly familiar.
Her features sharpened as the particles settled into light.
She looked at me… with warmth, with sorrow, with a tenderness I had only imagined.
Her lips moved.
"Kal-El."
My breath hitched.
"…Mom?"