The lab lights were on in energy-saving mode, casting a yellowish tone over the clean counters. Chloe walked in alone, her steps steady, backpack over one shoulder and the pen case clutched firmly in her hands. The vial inside it vibrated faintly, as if still reacting to something unseen.
She crossed the room to the central table, opened the case, and carefully took out the vial. The gloves lay folded neatly beside the microscope. Chloe slipped them on with practiced movements, then placed the sample under the light. The first step was simple: test the pH. The liquid reacted with a rapid color change, jumping straight to the acidic range.
Chloe jotted the results down on the graph paper beside her. No strong odor, but the fluid's behavior was inconsistent — far too unstable for any common drink. A faint vibration rippled through the counter when the dropper touched the center of the slide. The immediate reaction was an internal ripple, as if the liquid were trying to avoid contact.
She sealed the tube and moved the slide to the microscope, adjusting the lenses carefully.
The particles danced.
Microscopic crystals were suspended between the molecules. Not salt, not sugar, not any common lab compound. Chloe pressed the magnification button and held her breath.
The inner fragments had a greenish hue. Irregular electrical pulses ran along their edges. And in the center of one crystal, something even more familiar: a hexagonal structure she knew all too well.
Kryptonite.
Chloe pulled back from the microscope, her heart beating faster. Not because of the toxin itself — but because of what it meant.
She had seen it before in old records. In analyses Clark had done back when things were more open between them. The presence of that compound in a fluid used in a school meant only one thing: someone knew exactly what they were dealing with.
And they were testing limits.
She moved quickly to the small centrifuge, separating what she could from the fluid and isolating the suspended crystals. A full molecular analysis wasn't possible here, but this was enough to prove this wasn't the work of amateurs.
A soft noise interrupted her focus.
The lab door opened unhurriedly. The footsteps that entered were light, without hesitation. A sweet perfume filled the space in seconds, cutting through the metallic scent of the chemical samples.
Amanda walked in. Cheerleader jacket tied around her waist, clipboard in hand, clear attentive eyes.
She stopped a few steps from the table, observing the setup.
"You're messing with the green water?"
Her voice was neutral, but the slow drawl carried contained irritation. Chloe didn't look away. She just finished isolating another sample before answering.
"You're poisoning the school's players."
Amanda shut the door with her foot, the dry sound echoing through the empty lab.
"I'm not poisoning anyone. They're great. Running, obeying, happy. Better than most relationships out there."
Chloe set the tube in the centrifuge and spun it slowly. The mechanical hum began low.
"And obeying who exactly? You?"
"Yeah. Me. What's the problem?"
Amanda tossed the clipboard onto the counter beside her, eyes fixed on the vials.
"If they like it… if they're better this way… why are you getting involved?"
"Because this is Smallville. And when everyone starts acting like wind-up dolls, someone has to pull the string."
Amanda stepped closer. Her smile was small, but her eyes weren't smiling.
"You just want to play the heroine, huh? Always been your thing. Fine. Just don't complain when it comes back on you."
Chloe kept her gaze steady, fingers still on the centrifuge button.
"I'm not afraid of you. And if you have half a working brain cell, you should be a little afraid of me."
"You think you're something just because you looked in a microscope."
Amanda braced a hand on the counter, leaning her face toward Chloe.
"You don't get it. They want this. Obeying makes everything easier. No drama, no crisis, no heartbreak. It's perfect."
The door latch turned.
Clark walked in like nothing here was out of the ordinary.
Body relaxed, expression calm, hands in the pockets of his gray hoodie.
"Everyone having fun here?"
Amanda turned slightly, surprised. Chloe didn't react.
"Clark?" Her voice was firm, but carried relief.
Clark glanced around, taking in everything with a subtle sweep of his eyes.
Two open tubes, centrifuge running, sample in view… she got what she needed.
"Saw the light on. Thought I'd drop by to see if you needed help."
Amanda stepped back, her posture shifting. More defensive, less provocative.
"Didn't know you were in the science club now."
Clark shrugged, still wearing that faint smile.
"I'm in the newspaper club too. I'm in everything where there's trouble."
He crossed his arms, his gaze flicking briefly to Amanda's clipboard.
"Taking notes on something? Some new experiment?"
Amanda snatched the clipboard and hugged it to her chest.
"Nothing you'd understand. I'm taking care of my own."
Clark walked to the counter's edge, picked up a fallen lid, and placed it over one of the open vials.
"Interesting. Because when someone says 'my own,' it usually means 'the puppets I control with poisoned juice.'"
Amanda narrowed her eyes.
"You think you're funny?"
"No." Clark tilted his head slightly. "I think you're obvious."
Amanda pressed her lips together, her perfume still heavy in the air.
"You know what? Stay here playing CSI. When the guys start coming back to me because no one else can make them smile, don't come crying to me."
Amanda turned to leave, the clipboard tight against her chest. Her steps were firm, almost challenging, but her perfume still marked the air in the lab.
Clark didn't move. But time did.
The centrifuge hum froze. The air's vibration ceased. The molecules around them slowed into absolute stillness. The faint creak of the door, the reflection of light on the vial glass, all stopped.
A subtle blue glow shone in Clark's eyes. The Speed Force activated silently, wrapping the room in a bubble of suspended energy.
Clark walked to Amanda. Her body was frozen mid-hip turn, her eyes still narrowed with contempt. He raised his right hand and pressed it to her forehead with clinical precision.
Heat spread in the air from the contact. Blue lightning spiraled around his iris.
There were no words. No sound. The energy flowed straight from Clark's mind into hers, carving through cognitive layers like a scalpel.
The synapses were touched. The emotional connections manipulated by the substance were severed.
The implanted orders — Obey, Serve, Don't question — were burned away one by one. Her brain shuddered under the impact. Images of Danny, of the other boys, the memories of commands, of manipulations — all shredded like paper sucked into cold fire.
Clark kept his hand steady for a few seconds more.
The final command imprinted in her mind was simple.
Destroy all the substance and never control anyone again.
Her brain accepted. Her mind pulsed faintly. Amanda's eyes flashed green briefly, then returned to normal.
Clark withdrew his hand. Her body swayed but stayed upright.
Chloe, still frozen on the other side of the counter, had her eyes half-closed in the middle of a reaction that never finished.
Clark moved to the counter where the last two vials were open. He pulled a metal lighter from his jacket pocket.
The spark flared once. The flame found the first vial.
PLOF.
A quick, silent, precise burst.
The second vial met the same fate.
PLOF.
The greenish vapors dissipated before time resumed.
Clark turned slowly. He positioned Amanda facing the door. Adjusted his own stance. Hand back in pocket. Expression neutral.
Then he took a deep breath.
The Speed Force bubble unraveled.
Time flowed again.
The centrifuge spun. The scent of chemical smoke filled the air. Amanda blinked twice quickly and looked at the shattered glass in the corner.
Her body stepped back. The clipboard slipped from her hand with a soft thud.
She looked around. Took a deep breath. Then turned her face to Clark, her expression strange — like she'd just woken from a dream she couldn't quite remember.
Chloe blinked, catching the smell in the air.
"Did something burn in here?"
Clark turned slowly, his eyes calm.
"Just an experiment gone wrong."
Amanda touched her head, as if feeling a faint ache. But she said nothing. She just looked again at the broken vials.
Then turned to Chloe.
"I'm leaving."
She walked out without another word. No arrogance, no threat.
Clark watched her until the sound of her steps faded down the hall.
Chloe gave him a sideways look.
"You… did something?"
Clark shrugged, almost indifferent.
"Just here to help."
She didn't reply. But she didn't push either.
The kryptonite sample still spun in the centrifuge. And outside, the sky was darkening.
The game was changing. And now Clark controlled the pace.
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