[Third Person POV]
The real tour of the Fortress of Solitude began in earnest with Lara-El gliding gracefully to the front of the group, her long robes brushing softly against the polished crystal floor as she led the way. The corridor they entered stretched endlessly before them, glacial walls rose high, each step echoed faintly.
As they walked, Lara-El leaned ever so slightly toward Seiko, her voice a delicate whisper meant for her ears alone. "When Kal-El is here, all he ever does is train or lounge around in his chamber. I have no pictures of him as a child stored in my memory files—no moments of his youth to treasure. Do you… perhaps have some that you'd be willing to share with me, when the opportunity presents itself?" Her eyes, gentle yet tinged with longing, shone with a curiosity that transcended mere data collection; there was something warmly maternal behind her inquiry.
Seiko's grin widened from ear to ear before a light laugh escaped her lips. "Next time I visit, I'll be sure to bring you a few pictures and maybe even some videos I managed to collect while Clark was growing up. I think you'll enjoy seeing what a handful he could be."
"Much appreciated," Lara-El replied with a soft, almost human smile, the crystalline glow catching the graceful lines of her face.
Clark, however, remained detached from the exchange, his expression distant as he followed silently behind them. His mind was far from the shimmering corridors. 'If Zod is truly someone I'll have to face in the future,' he mused grimly, 'then that likely means Kara is also a factor in all this. Though, for all I know, she could still be drifting through a wormhole somewhere in the vastness of space.' The thought of his cousin—someone he didn't even know—tightened like a knot in his chest. 'I honestly don't know how to feel about her,' he admitted inwardly with a sigh, forcing himself to shake the thought away. 'Future Clark can deal with that. There's no sense in tormenting myself over what I can't control right now.'
"In this first chamber," Lara-El announced, her voice carrying a dignified pride, "we have Kal-El's primary training arena. Here, he hones his skills under the simulated conditions of a red sun, battling advanced combat drones and holographic projections of alien beasts and Kryptonian war machines. The purpose is to challenge him—constantly—to adapt and grow stronger."
The doors slid open with a low, resonant hum, revealing a massive open space bathed in a sudden deep crimson glare as the lighting shifted. Sleek training equipment and hovering machines lined the periphery, their polished surfaces reflecting the oppressive glow. Robotic sentries stood dormant for now, but their angular silhouettes promised a deadly dance when activated.
"Red sun?" Momo asked, her brows knitting together as she shot Clark an incredulous look. "Why train under something like that? Does it help you improve faster or something?"
Clark's tone remained calm, almost indifferent. "No. It strips me of every Kryptonian ability I possess, leaving me no stronger than a peak human at best."
Momo's eyes sparked with barely contained delight, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. "So you're saying that under a red sun… I could finally overpower you?"
"Yes," Clark replied without hesitation or shame. He knew all too well how formidable Momo was. With her nearly limitless spiritual energy and uncanny control, she was already a terrifying opponent. Not that he would ever say as much aloud—especially not to her face.
Seiko's expression darkened slightly with concern. "Clark, are you sure you should be telling us this? The fewer people who know your weaknesses, the better."
"It's fine," Clark said, his voice firm but not unkind. "If I ever go rogue, or if I'm being controlled, or if another Kryptonian shows up with the same abilities, you'll know how to stop us. It's better for everyone if you have that knowledge. I'm not so prideful that I'd risk lives just to keep my secrets."
"Hmm… I suppose that's fair," Momo conceded with a thoughtful nod, though her grin quickly returned, stretching from ear to ear. "But you know what that also means, right? We could finally compete in games without you cheating with all that super strength!"
Clark scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Games? Really? What are you, five?"
Momo's cheeks flushed pink, but her playful glare only sharpened.
Meanwhile, Lala stood silently near the entrance, her keen eyes scanning the chamber with a scientist's hunger. Already, her mind raced with ideas for upgrades—expanded combat programs, more adaptive simulations, perhaps even incorporating alien physics to push the limits of what the room could achieve.
They moved onward, following Lara-El through another series of crystalline passages. The next chamber opened with a soft hiss as the door split apart, revealing a sleek laboratory brimming with technology both alien and impossibly advanced.
"This," Lara-El explained with an almost ceremonial flourish, "is Kal-El's designated Crime Lab."
The room was a marvel of Kryptonian engineering. Rows of translucent consoles flickered with cascading data streams, while elegant machines hummed quietly in the background. There was a chemical analysis module capable of breaking down unknown substances to their molecular essence, a fingerprint classifier that could process millions of patterns in seconds, and even a "crime probability detector," a predictive system that mapped criminal behavior across the globe. At the center of it all hovered a massive holographic globe of Earth, its continents glowing faintly as real-time feeds of global events pulsed across its surface. Here, Superman could monitor the world he swore to protect—every heartbeat, every crisis, every whisper of danger—while remaining hidden in the solitude of his icy sanctuary.
"The technology here is… astonishing," Lala said, her emerald eyes practically glowing as she swept her gaze across the sleek, crystalline consoles and hovering data screens. "Some of the most advanced I've ever encountered of this nature. Truly remarkable." She gave a firm, approving nod, her analytical mind already racing through countless possibilities. "As expected from a civilization renowned for its scientific brilliance."
Clark smirked, folding his arms with a teasing glint in his eyes. "Why do I get the feeling you're already thinking of ways to outdo it?"
Lala covered her mouth with a delicate hand, letting out a soft, melodic chuckle. "Maybe," she admitted, the corners of her lips curling upward. "This is honestly thrilling. I can already think of a few upgrades. For example, your planetary monitoring system—why stop at Earth? With the right modifications, I could expand its range across the entire solar system!" Her voice quickened with excitement, and a feverish light danced in her eyes as if she could already see the upgrades taking shape in her mind.
Clark shook his head with a low laugh, finding her enthusiasm almost endearing. "Alright, calm yourself. We've only just begun the tour. Don't start redesigning the Fortress before you've seen the rest of it."
Still giggling, Lala allowed Clark to gently guide her out of the room. His large, warm hand rested lightly over her eyes in order to stop her from breaking everything down further. The unexpected contact sent a pleasant warmth through her chest. She smiled to herself, savoring the subtle closeness, her heart fluttering at how effortlessly comfortable he had gotten around her compared to before. For a brief moment, she almost wished the walk to the next chamber would never end.
Eventually, Clark lowered his hand and stepped aside as they arrived at the next section of the Fortress. Before them stretched an enormous hangar. Rows of meticulously maintained vehicles rested in perfect formation—sleek sports cars with mirror-polished finishes, elegant spacecraft with streamlined hulls, advanced motorcycles, and even a pair of compact speedboats resting within suspended cradles of crystal and steel.
Momo's eyes widened, then narrowed in bemusement as she glanced between Clark and the impressive display. "You can literally fly and move at super speed," she said, one brow arching skeptically. "What's the actual point of all this?"
Clark spread his hands in a half-shrug, half-defense, his grin boyishly unapologetic. "First of all, I'm a guy—what do you honestly expect? Second, working on machines helps me improve my mechanical skills. It's a craft I'm genuinely passionate about. Third, these aren't just for me. There might come a time when we need to travel as a group, and I can't exactly carry everyone across the planet. And fourth," he added with a playful glance, "I might lose my powers someday. A guy's gotta have a backup plan."
Momo raised both hands in mock surrender, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Alright, alright—I get it. No need for a full essay." She turned on her heel and began strolling toward the exit, muttering something about "boys and their toys" while the others followed behind her, laughing under their breaths.
As the group filtered out, Clark lingered near the entrance of the hangar, his gaze sweeping over the polished vehicles with a softer, more distant look. Memories stirred—warm, bittersweet, and vivid. In his previous life, his father had been a mechanic. Some of Clark's most cherished moments were spent in that old, oil-scented garage, standing on tiptoe to peer over the hood of a car while his dad rambled on about carburetors and pistons. He could still picture the way sunlight filtered through the dusty windows, the metallic clink of tools, and the steady, patient rhythm of his father's voice explaining every nut and bolt.
A small smile tugged at Clark's lips as he closed his eyes, still envisioning it as clear as day. 'I miss you, Dad…'
"Clark?"
Lala's soft voice cut through his reverie. He opened his eyes to find her standing at the edge of the hangar, tilting her head slightly in concern.
Before she could take a step toward him, Clark disappeared from where he stood and reappeared at her side in a blur of movement. He reached out, resting a reassuring hand atop her soft pink hair. "It's nothing," he said quietly, offering her a small, practiced smile. "Don't worry about it."
Then, without waiting for a response, he stepped ahead to rejoin the group.
Lala watched his back as he walked away, her heart tightening with a quiet, unshakable curiosity. Slowly, she raised her hands to the spot where his touch had lingered, her fingers brushing lightly against her hair as she thought, 'Is it just me… or did Clark look really sad just now?'