The silence lingered for a few seconds before Clark turned and strode to the dresser. His super-speed made the motion seem like a blink—in moments, he was rifling through a notepad, drawers, and even a carefully folded envelope.
[X-Ray Vision: Activated]
In less than two seconds, he pinpointed the exact sheet tucked between the pages of a book on ancient languages. Clark pulled out the paper and scanned it quickly, his eyes locking onto the handwritten number at the bottom.
Zatanna Zatara. The name seemed to hum with energy.
Diana stepped closer, curious.
"Who're you calling?"
Clark answered without looking away.
"A friend. She understands… things even Kryptonian tech can't explain."
He grabbed his phone, dialed the number, and pressed it to his ear. Waited.
Nothing.
He tried again. The tone rose, fell, then gave way to the stark silence of a dropped call. No voicemail. No recording. Just the dry sound of disconnection.
Clark lowered the phone slowly, his jaw tight.
"It didn't go through."
Diana rested a gentle hand on his arm.
"Maybe she's busy."
Clark sighed, planting both hands on his hips and rolling his neck as if to shake off the moment's weight.
"I hate not having answers. And I hate relying on magic."
"But that's what the world's become, Clark. We deal with what we've got. And sometimes, even heroes have to wait."
He glanced at her sideways, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.
"There's only one way to make me feel better now."
Before she could react, Clark scooped her up effortlessly and tossed her gently onto the bed.
Diana landed on her back with a short, surprised laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"So this is how you ask for comfort?"
Clark leaned closer, his grin widening.
"When the universe is against me… you're the only one who can balance it out."
She tugged him by the shirt, her gaze glinting with playful challenge.
"What are you waiting for?"
For a moment, the rest of the world vanished. No crystals, no Bruce, no threats.
Just two bodies, two hearts, and a rare sliver of peace.
---
Downstairs, Tina adjusted the TV volume with the remote, her brow slightly furrowed.
Kyla glanced at her, eyebrows raised.
"You heard that too?"
"Heard it. Pretending I didn't."
Tina pressed the volume button again, and the reporter's rehearsed neutrality filled the room.
They both turned their attention back to the screen, the muffled sounds from upstairs fading into the background.
---
Smallville High School
The school newspaper room was an odd mix of stillness and motion. Chloe typed with calculated precision, her eyes flicking between the screen and a stack of papers to her right. A few feet away, Alicia sorted old copies, trying to seem helpful despite the less-than-welcoming vibe.
Clark walked in as if he had nothing extraordinary to hide. His steps were calm, his gaze sweeping the room like he was chasing a sense of… normalcy.
"Morning."
Chloe gave a quick wave without pausing her typing. Alicia looked up, smiling.
"Hey, Clark."
He approached the desk, glancing around as if expecting more life in the space.
"It's so… quiet in here."
Chloe let out a heavy sigh, not bothering to hide her boredom.
"No stories. No scandals, no weirdness, not even decent gossip. And this is Smallville."
Clark managed a faint smile, leaning against the edge of the desk.
"Funny… with everything going on in the world, you guys are in the calmest place on Earth."
"Yeah. Cosmic irony," Chloe shot back, eyes still on her screen.
Clark shrugged and glanced at Alicia, who was still holding a few sheets.
"Maybe I've got a story for you. Clark Kent's two exes… working side by side on the school paper."
Alicia let out a genuine chuckle, clearly delighted by the jest.
"Nice! The headline could be: Between Coffee, Printouts, and Broken Hearts."
Chloe froze. The clatter of keys stopped.
She looked up slowly, fixing Clark with a neutral stare that hid everything but amusement.
"If you've got time to crack jokes, you can proofread these three pages," she said, shoving a small stack of papers toward him.
Clark accepted with a grin.
"Fair enough."
Alicia was still smiling—not just at the comment, but at the unexpectedly light mood. For the first time, she didn't feel outright rejected.
Chloe, meanwhile, turned her full attention back to the screen. Her eyes were serious, her fingers resuming their typing, as if the keyboard were a shield against inconvenient emotions.
Clark sat at the far end of the room, his gaze lingering on the two for a moment. Part of him wondered how things had gotten so… human. The other part just wanted it to last longer than a few minutes.
'If only this were my biggest problem.'
He leaned back in the chair, his eyes drifting to the ceiling for a few seconds. The soft hum of the printer behind Chloe set the rhythm of a daily life that no longer fully belonged to him.
'Alicia can teleport. Fast, discreet, no trace. That… could be useful.'
The thought came naturally, like finding a forgotten tool in a drawer.
'Diana moves well, and Kyla's got her instincts. But neither can cross miles in a blink. If I need to move someone without raising suspicion…'
Clark's gaze flicked to Alicia again. She was folding printed sheets now, focused, careful. Gone was the explosive temper from before. The obsessions that pushed him away. Maybe they were still there, buried—but there was control now. Maturity?
'Bringing her into the fold… could be risky. But keeping her at a distance doesn't guarantee safety. If someone like her is left vulnerable in Smallville, she could be used by anyone.'
The thought landed with finality.
'If she's close… at least she's under my watch.'
Clark grabbed a pen from the desk and started reviewing the pages Chloe had handed him. His eyes scanned the words, but his mind stayed on Alicia.
'She could be an ally. But only if she understands the boundaries. And trusts them.'
He turned the page. The sound of paper rustling seemed louder than it was.
He didn't know how much time he had before the next threat. But if he had to gather trustworthy people around him… he'd start with those willing to change.
And maybe, just maybe, Alicia was one of them.
---
The parking lot was nearly empty when Lana turned off the car's engine. The morning sun hit the windshield with a soft, yellowish glow, gentle enough to feel welcoming. But the mild warmth in the air didn't match the tension in her shoulders.
Jason stepped out from the passenger side, adjusting his backpack strap with calm movements. Their exchange of glances was brief—almost rehearsed. No touches. No waves. Just a quiet, knowing look.
"See you later," he murmured, low enough to avoid being overheard.
Lana nodded and headed toward the main building. Her steps were firm, her expression neutral, as if Jason hadn't ridden with her. As if he wasn't there. And in that moment, that's exactly how she wanted it to seem.
Jason waited a few seconds before turning the other way, weaving through the cars with ease. He wasn't yet wearing a uniform or badge, but he held an envelope of documents in his hand. His destination wasn't class—it was the administrative office. He was aiming for the assistant coach job, and today was make-or-break.
Even without saying it aloud, Jason knew how much this school meant to Lana. He didn't want whispers or sidelong glances to disrupt her routine. So he kept his distance. His presence in Smallville was already enough to spark suspicion. No need to give people more reasons.
Lana moved through the school hallways with brisk steps, dodging clusters of students and side conversations. She wasn't looking for anyone, didn't want to stand out. She just wanted to slip into her usual place, at her usual time—as if nothing had changed.
But something had.
Jason's familiar scent still lingered from the car, now clinging to her like a fresh memory etched into her skin.