"Let him go." The politician in a suit said with a grim face, "The thing in low Earth orbit is the real problem. Even if we can dissect him now, it's unlikely we could find a way to deal with his kind from him. Now is not the time to offend him."
"No," another person spoke, "He's injured, and if we know what hurt him, we can find a way to deal with these aliens."
"Whom do you want to send to find out? The only expert who might achieve results is in his hands now."
"Either way, I disagree. We can't just let go of such a valuable specimen. Once he recovers, we'll never have such an opportunity again."
"Washington is calling," another figure opened the office door and said, "Mr. President's orders: let Clark Kent leave."
The few exchanged glances. Though some were still unwilling, the order finally reached the military base.
As the person conveying the order left, one of the politicians threw a pen on the table and said, "It's all for votes. As long as that spaceship doesn't destroy Earth during his term, he'll accept anything!"
"Alright, you should have expected this. Besides, to find out how he was injured, you don't necessarily have to dissect him. Someone once saw him fly out of the Luthor Building; this matter might not be unrelated to Lex Luther."
"Are you saying Luther hurt him? How did he manage that?"
"You and I both know that guy isn't just a businessman but a super genius. He might have developed some powerful weapon capable of harming aliens."
"If that's true, this weapon must be under our control. If only we can repel the spaceship in low Earth orbit..."
The two exchanged a knowing look.
The aliens may be a significant threat, but if used well, they might also be a great asset.
"Luther's not easy to deal with." One person shook his head and said, "He won't easily hand over that thing to us."
"He has things he cares about too. If the military and we join forces, he will have to hand it over, even if he doesn't want to."
"I'm just worried..."
"Worried about what?"
"No, nothing." The politician shook his head. They all knew what kind of person Luther was; it was impossible for him to collaborate with the aliens, absolutely impossible.
Heavily armed soldiers gradually stepped aside. Clark grabbed the expert by the neck, cautiously walking forward through the same corridor, reaching in front of the big door. A helicopter was parked there.
Clark took a deep breath. He led the expert onto the helicopter, and even after boarding, he remained vigilant. But soon, he saw a familiar face. The helicopter pilot was that Black officer.
"Where to?"
"Wayne Manor."
The Black officer showed a relieved smile, turned back, and started the helicopter. The armed helicopter disappeared over the coast, while more and more dark clouds were gathering into a storm over the East Coast.
"Clark Kent, right?" The expert suddenly said.
Clark had already let go of him, and the two sat side by side in the helicopter. Clark nodded, somewhat absent-minded.
"About that spaceship in low Earth orbit, how much do you know? Don't get me wrong; I support you. I believe you and those suddenly appearing aliens are not in cahoots."
Clark looked at him with some doubt.
The expert sighed and said, "Do you still remember the spaceship you saw at the North Pole?"
Clark frowned and became somewhat wary. The expert, however, shook his head and said, "Don't be nervous. After we discovered that spaceship, I warned them that there might be abnormal alien radiation inside. So far, only professionals like me have entered."
"So, you..."
"Although I cannot start the spaceship, I can restore its appearance, the structure of the spaceship's hull, and the principles of its operation through research. You were once a great civilization."
Clark was stunned. He felt very shocked. But the expert continued in his usual calm voice, "That spaceship was also the home of many of your kind, with many researchers like me piloting it across the universe, exploring the unknown mysteries of the cosmos, inspiring curiosity, learning knowledge, and passing on civilization."
The expert turned to Clark and said, "All my research results tell me that you are not alien monsters, but a cosmic civilization with wisdom and emotions like ours. You must have encountered some terrible disaster to come to this point.
The cosmos is vast. Every appearance of life is a miracle. We are so strong, yet so fragile, and we have to give our all to cope even with natural disasters. In this situation, civilizations should help each other, not fight. No matter what your homeland has suffered, dragging Earth into the same situation is no good for you. What we need to do is communicate and work together to solve the troubles."
Clark remained silent for a long time. Reason was telling him that such thoughts were too idealistic. However, idealists are always captivating. Especially an idealist brimming with knowledge and wisdom and filled with empathy; the kind of beautiful future he portrays can move anyone. Even Clark couldn't help but feel drawn to it.
"What if they destroy Earth just to revive their own planet?"
"They? You..."
"I grew up on Earth. I don't consider them my own kind. I'd rather stand with the human race," Clark said.
"I see. No wonder you were so agitated when you saw that spaceship. But you should know..."
"I know I may never fully integrate. You'll never truly acknowledge me as human. But I don't need anyone's acknowledgment; I just want to live the life I want on Earth."
"No, what you should worry about is not humans not recognizing you, but humans recognizing you too much. What would you do if they worship you as a God?"
"Let's talk about these issues later. I just want to know, if invading Earth indeed brings them tangible benefits, would you still want to talk to them?"
"Of course. Because the so-called tangible benefits they think invasion brings are likely not benefits at all, but rather a prelude to another disaster. You only need to answer me one question: if they could truly rebuild Krypton on Earth and continue their civilization, why did Krypton get destroyed in the first place?"
Clark was at a loss for words. For the first time, he truly felt the power of knowledge. Somehow, he felt that the expert in front of him might know more about Krypton than he did.
"Let me tell you why I'm an anti-war activist. The reason I oppose all invasion wars is that, in modern times, foreign invasion always indicates unsolved internal problems. Whether the invasion succeeds or fails, it will undoubtedly tread the same path of internal issues again, leading to casualties without any real progress. The essence of invasion is escapism, refusing to confront societal problems head-on, only venting social pressure, ultimately leading to repeated cycles. It keeps proving a nation's and race's failure time and again."
"Krypton's extinction proves they never resolved their internal issues in the end. Even if they find another planet to propagate, they'll still face destruction. Other than proving their racial flaws over and over, it has no meaning."
Clark fell into deep thought because he felt what the expert said made a lot of sense. He had pondered this before—if the Kryptonians perished, was it really wrong for them to seek a new home suitable for them in the cosmos?
From a common-sense perspective, such actions don't seem wrong. The urge for survival is inherent in intelligent beings. Since some of their people survived, naturally, they would want to establish a new home. From an Earthling's perspective, their invasion of Earth is an act of evil; but from their perspective, it is merely a choice forced upon them.
However, the expert's words opened a new world for Clark. Krypton was destroyed, but every Kryptonian, including his father, spoke ambiguously about how it happened. His biological father seemed to believe it was due to excessive resource exploitation, but is that really the case?
They could create a spaceship capable of reaching Earth but couldn't locate a few resource-extracting planets? Able to send a baby to Earth but helpless against planetary disintegration?
The more Clark thought about it, the more he realized something was amiss. He felt the problem might not lie in astrophysics or technology but in sociology. The entire Kryptonian society might have fundamental issues. If not, an ordinary natural disaster couldn't easily destroy such an advanced civilization. The strongest fortress is often breached from within.
The more he thought this way, the more determined Clark became to oppose his own people. Those people probably knew nothing, pursuing their dreams by coming to Earth to rebuild their home. Without stopping them, not only would humanity face catastrophe, but this planet could never become an ideal home for the Kryptonians. Ultimately, they would both lose.
"To be honest, I don't want to work for the military anymore. Their bodies have lived into the modern age, but their souls remain in the Cold War era, with minds full of war and confrontation. Their consistent hard-line and indifferent attitude will only make things worse."
"Is there anything I can do to help you?" Clark asked.
"I have a research team," the expert said. "They're basically under military control. I hope to free them from the military, and I need a ship to go to the North Pole again."
Clark opened his mouth but didn't immediately agree because he knew he couldn't do it at the moment. Even with superpowers, he couldn't openly attack a human military base. He had learned his lesson.
"I can help you with this," said the Black military officer piloting the helicopter. "I'll get them out and send you to the North Pole. But I suspect those people on the near-Earth orbit ship are also very interested in things in the North Pole. You can't survive against them."
"I can find a friend to protect you," Clark seemed to suddenly remember something. He took out his phone to look for Diana's name, then said, "He is also a superpower user and should be able to protect you from harm from my own race."
The helicopter quickly reached the sky above Wayne Manor. Finding no obstruction, Clark was already aware of the situation. He jumped off the helicopter, bidding farewell to the military officer and expert on board, before walking into Wayne Manor.
As soon as he stepped into the hall, Clark smelled a familiar fragrance. He saw Batman sitting at the dining table eating, with a bowl of fragrant oatmeal next to his plate.
At this moment, Bruce Wayne put down his spoon, stood up, and walked over to stand in front of him.
Bam!
Clark punched Bruce down.
"God!"
A sharp scream came from the stairway; Clark hurriedly turned to see his mother, Martha, running down the stairs.
"Clark, what are you doing!"
Clark moved tentatively towards Martha. His eyes were red, his movements awkward, and it wasn't until he really touched her face that he hugged Martha tightly.
"Mom... Mom..."