Clark stared blankly at the Justice League members in front of him. He suspected he was dreaming. Either that or he was high on drugs. Otherwise, he must have eaten some poisonous mushrooms. Why else would he be inside a Martian's spaceship, seeing the Justice League celebrating Christmas?!
Clark even rubbed his eyes. His Super Vision had never been so distrusted before. Even his super brain felt unjustly treated, as if there was snow in June. Not until Bruce greeted him did Clark realize this was not an illusion. They were indeed, goddammit, preparing for a Christmas Eve party inside a Martian's spaceship!!!
Clark took a deep breath, trying to suppress the urge to blow them all to the Kuiper Belt with a breath of icy air. Apparently, everyone saw this impulse of his. Hal quickly flew to the ground, picked up the star, stuffed it into Clark's hand, and said, "God, you finally made it. Without you, we can't fix this. Come on, give us a hand!"
"Ah, yes. With so many presents, I don't know when I'll finish packing them." Barry said, "I know you're best at this, Clark. We're all counting on you."
Ron and Arthur genuinely looked a bit at a loss as they watched the collapsed Oreo Tower and the turkey with a big crack. Arthur scratched his head vigorously and said, "Is it still time to go buy one? Or change the main dish to a gray whale?"
"If you're going to buy it, get a set of Christmas lights too." Victor said, "I cranked up the power earlier, burning out the bulb. I shouldn't have connected them to the power supply."
Clark's gaze swept over them but didn't linger; instead, it landed on the three women standing by the dining table, especially Louise Lane, holding the table flag.
At this moment, the eye contact between the three women was fast as the speed of light transmission, powerful as nuclear power generation. Within a short two seconds, a figure dashed towards Clark.
Before Clark realized what was happening, he felt a warm and soft touch on his lips. The deafening screams in the house exploded, while he felt an unprecedented dizziness.
Louise gave Clark a quick kiss, then seeing Clark's dumbfounded expression, couldn't help but burst into laughter. Clark, realizing what happened, helplessly closed his eyes.
Moments later, everyone gathered around the sofa, each busy with their own tasks; Carol helped Hal connect the star decorations, Barry packed gifts, Ron nibbled on Oreo cookies, Arthur and Mera studied how to sew up the turkey's belly while Clark and Bruce sat facing each other, listening to him explain the whole plan.
At first, Clark was still angry, unable to express it in front of Louise. But as Bruce continued, he felt increasingly shocked.
Undoubtedly, this was a massive lie that deceived the entire world, yet it was also an exquisite and grand plan.
Using the Martian pressure to force human unity and development. Clark couldn't imagine what kind of person could devise such a plan. In front of this plan, the way he once imagined saving the world seemed shallow and one-sided.
Clark's thinking always revolved around "saving." Even when he realized that within a corrupt body, decay couldn't be saved, he must stand externally to correct it. But he always thought about how he could improve the bad parts himself.
He couldn't say this wasn't a Savior complex. From start to finish, he always wanted to take responsibility for this world, trying everything, giving it his all to save something.
But at this moment, he realized Bruce's thoughts differed from his. Bruce didn't need a Savior, or he believed humans didn't need a Savior. The only ones who can save humanity are the humans themselves. The correct way to save humanity is to force them into saving themselves.
When these two utterly different thoughts clashed, it felt like a fierce storm in Clark's brain. Even the super brain was left dizzy by the gale and rain.
Clark always struggled with how to become God, and now he realized, humanity doesn't need God.
Surely, they need a strong enough leader; Clark knew he couldn't shirk this duty. But if this is just a fabricated lie, then even without him, everything would still operate as usual. Bruce would still achieve his goals.
In other words, humanity doesn't need him.
Clark found it hard to describe his feelings at this moment. Perhaps he should feel sad and lost, because he felt no affection for Krypton, and if Earth wasn't his home either, he'd become a genuine orphan with no place in the vast cosmos.
But his emotions were far more complex; he felt a bit of loss, thinking of the many ways he's tried, all ending up being futile. Yet, on the other hand, he also felt inexplicable relief and gratitude, perhaps even some pride.
Clark thought carefully; he felt relieved probably because he hadn't figured out a perfect way to save all humanity, and now he didn't need to do so. His pressure wasn't that great anymore, so naturally, he relaxed.
And pride because he considers himself an Earthling. If humanity indeed has the ability to surpass Kryptonians in saving themselves, he should also share in that glory.
Amidst a myriad of complex emotions intertwined, Clark was at a loss for words. At this moment, he heard Bruce say, "Actually, I've long been aware of the situation on Mars and knew this method would work. Ideally, I should have executed it sooner. But do you know why I didn't?"
"Why?" Clark snapped back to attention, pondering along Bruce's line of thought. If Bruce had acted earlier, perhaps the plan would have already been completed. Moreover, Bruce was old now. If it had been in his younger years, the plan might have been executed more perfectly. Why didn't he do so?
"Because of you," Bruce replied, "I've been waiting for you."
Clark looked at him, incredulous. But in Bruce's calm, blue eyes, there was no hint of jest. He was serious.
"Why?" Clark asked again, "Why wait for me?"
"I can give humanity hope, but I also need someone to give me hope." Bruce looked into Clark's eyes and said, "After Damian died, I gave up all thoughts of changing this world. In decades in Gotham, all I saw about humanity was darkness, despair, and not worth saving."
"And you, Clark Kent, those things that forged you into the Man of Steel, are precisely the opposite of what I witnessed in the first half of my life. They are the bright, beautiful, hopeful side of humanity. My fire had gone out, but you rekindled it."
"You once said that, for better or for worse, you would ultimately change this world. And now, the way you change this world is by changing me. You may not be this world's Savior, but you are certainly mine."
Bruce's voice was low; it felt less like a speech and more like a glass of wine. Clark stared at Bruce in a daze, as if intoxicated. He had never imagined Bruce saying such words. It was unlike him.
Yet that night resurfaced before his eyes. Recalling it now, the conversation of that night took on a different flavor. Bruce had told him that wanting to be responsible for everyone only led to helplessness, which begets anger, and anger destroys everything.
Previously, Clark had realized this might be Bruce's experiential knowledge. However, his focus was more on the fact that "anger destroys everything." He knew this likely referred to Damian's death.
But right now, he suddenly realized that the emphasis was on the first half of the statement. The sense of experiential knowledge also came from Bruce when he spoke about 'wanting to save everyone,' bearing that faint despair and helplessness.
This meant Bruce had tried. He had once attempted to change the world, making efforts just like a younger Clark. Only he had given up.
It seemed like advice from an elder wanting Clark to know his limits and not be too strong. But it also held a bit of hope amidst despair. Perhaps Clark's stubborn rebuttals were precisely what he wanted to hear; his persistence and belief exactly what he wanted to see.
People are like this; even when rationality tells them something is impossible, they often still harbor fantasies. They wish the past could be changed, hope that miracles will occur in the future. And Clark was that miracle appearing in a young Bruce's fantasy of the future—a powerful and just God descending into the world.
Perhaps Bruce, at some moment, had also fantasized about himself being such, descending from above on the inevitable road to aging and death. Those long-faded youthful fantasies came to life before him. A raindrop fell upon the lifeless sea, seemingly breaking the calm by an external force, but in reality, it echoed his own unyielding will from the first half of his life.
Clark further understood why his father would say he was destined to change the world. It wasn't due to any specific plan he made or methods he used, but rather his very existence gave people like Bruce, defeated by darkness and forced to abandon their dreams of changing the world, a reason to continue their journey.
The human race is one that excels at finding ways to give itself hope. If not for this, there wouldn't be so many fictional Gods. God has never shown up in reality, so when a truly just and mighty Superman proves his existence to the world, it naturally constructs belief stronger than God, allowing those who were once trapped in despair to muster the last ounce of strength in their near-death struggle. This is the mighty force capable of changing the world.
Clark took a deep breath. How could he not have realized? The boy and his mother saved from the sinking school bus, the colleagues rescued from danger, the police and doctors concealing the truth of his death... Bruce was just like them, forced by reality and assaulted by darkness. In utter despair, they placed their last shred of hope on him—and he lived up to it.
He didn't let him down; he didn't let them down. No matter how painful, he never chose to give up. He responded to their trust and truly changed this world.
Clark forcefully closed his eyes. At that moment, the room became lively again. Hal was setting the stars alight again; Barry was rummaging through the gift boxes for extra ribbons. Ron was being scolded for having eaten most of the Oreo Tower. The mended turkey was finally put into the oven, and others were helping Victor hang the string of repaired lights. These sounds were magnified infinitely in his Super Senses, yet grew distant, as he clearly felt his heart turning softer with each beat.
Clark couldn't help but look at the other man at the island platform. Shiller seemed to sense his gaze and smiled at him. Clark murmured softly, "... And you?"
But he knew Shiller had already answered him. That voice, laced with laughter, echoed in his ears, "I really like Superman. I've read all your stories. Very interesting, I really love them."
It is love. What enables people to pierce through desperation is Superman's love for everyone. And what keeps Superman going is people's love for him.
The stars on countless Christmas trees were lit up. Whether it was on Mars or on Earth, tonight was a Silent Night.