The underground testing facility beneath Wayne Manor had been built for one purpose—measuring superhuman abilities safely.
Clark stood in the center of a reinforced chamber, walls lined with sensors and blast-resistant materials.
Thomas Wayne, Jonathan Kent, Martha Kent, and Lucius Fox watched from the observation deck above.
Bruce monitored readings while Ojaga leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"Before we begin," Thomas said over the intercom, "let's establish baseline measurements from six months ago."
Numbers appeared on the massive display screen.
"Previous strength capacity: 500 to 800 tons sustained. Peak burst: 2,000 tons for extended periods."
Clark's eyes widened. "I used to lift that much?"
Jonathan nodded grimly. "You once moved a continental shelf to stop an earthquake."
"Flight speed: Mach 15 sustained. Could reach near light-speed in space for short bursts."
"Heat vision: Could melt through 50 meters of reinforced steel. Range extended to 50 kilometers with precision."
Martha whispered, "You were like a god among mortals."
Fox activated the first test. "Let's see current levels. Clark, lift the weight platform."
A massive steel platform rose from the floor, loaded with precisely measured weights.
Clark bent down, muscles tensing, and lifted with both hands.
The platform rose—but his arms shook slightly.
"150 tons," Bruce announced. "That's your comfortable maximum now."
Clark set it down, breathing harder than before. "I used to barely feel that weight."
"Striking test," Thomas called out. "Hit the force measurement pad."
Clark pulled back his fist and punched the reinforced target.
BOOM! The impact echoed through the chamber.
"45 ton-force," Fox read. "Down from 200 ton-force previously."
Ojaga frowned. "That's still enough to punch through a tank."
"But not enough to stop a building from collapsing," Clark said quietly.
"Flight speed test," Bruce said. "Chamber's too small, but we can measure takeoff acceleration."
Clark crouched, then launched himself upward, hitting the ceiling gently and hovering.
"Mach 0.8 acceleration rate," the computer announced. "Hovering requires 40% more energy than previous tests."
Clark landed, shaking his head. "I used to race fighter jets for fun."
Martha reached out through the observation window. "You're still strong, son."
"But not strong enough," Clark replied.
"Heat vision test," Thomas said. "Target the reinforced steel block."
Clark's eyes glowed red, beams lancing out toward a thick metal cube.
The steel glowed orange, then white-hot, but didn't melt completely.
"Penetration: 8 centimeters through hardened steel. Range effective to 3 kilometers."
Fox compared readings. "Previously, you could cut through 2 meters of the same material instantly."
Clark rubbed his temples. "My eyes hurt after that. They never hurt before."
"Freeze breath test," Bruce announced. "Cool the heated steel."
Clark inhaled deeply, then exhaled a stream of freezing air.
Frost formed on the metal, but it remained warm at the core.
"Minus 80 degrees Celsius. Coverage area: 10 meter cone."
"Used to be minus 200 degrees in a 50 meter area," Jonathan said sadly.
"X-ray vision," Fox called out. "Scan through the lead-lined box."
Clark focused on a sealed container across the room.
His face strained with effort. "I can barely see through it. Everything looks fuzzy."
"Lead was always your weakness," Thomas said. "But you could see around it before."
"Now even thin lead sheets block my vision completely," Clark admitted.
"Hearing test," Bruce said. "Identify the sound playing in downtown Gotham."
Clark tilted his head, listening intently.
"I hear... traffic. Car horns. But I can't pick out individual conversations like before."
"Range reduced from global to city-wide," the computer confirmed.
Martha wiped her eyes. "What's happening to our son?"
Jonathan stood up. "The seven bubble worlds are changing Earth's fundamental properties."
"The sun's light spectrum is shifting. Less yellow sunlight means less power for Kryptonian cells."
Thomas nodded. "Gravity increased by 25%. Air density up. Every action costs more energy."
Clark sat down heavily on a bench. "I'm becoming more like a normal person every day."
"No," Ojaga said firmly. "You're still Superman. Just... adapted Superman."
Fox pulled up comparative charts. "Let me show you something."
"Your current strength: 150 tons. That's still stronger than any Earth material breaking point."
"Your speed: Mach 1. Faster than any human-made aircraft."
"Your durability: Can survive missile strikes. Most humans die from falling down stairs."
Bruce smiled slightly. "You're not a god anymore. But you're still a hero."
Clark looked up at his parents—all of them. "What if it's not enough?"
"Then we adapt," Thomas said. "We use strategy instead of raw power."
"We work as a team," Martha added. "You don't have to carry the world alone anymore."
Jonathan leaned forward. "Son, you were never just about power. You were about heart."
"And that hasn't changed," Martha Kent finished.
Alarms suddenly blared through the facility. Red lights flashed.
Bruce's voice came over the speakers. "Parademon attack confirmed at Gotham Harbor."
"Steppenwolf is beginning the Mother Box unity process."
In the war room, tactical displays showed the nuclear facility crawling with enemies.
Bruce pointed at the screen. "Steppenwolf has planetary-level durability. Millennia of combat experience."
"His electro-axe can cut through most materials. He commands all parademon forces."
Diana checked her weapons, and also felt something gone wrong in the amazon MYSCRRIA island.
Barry adjusted his Amazon swords. "So what's the plan?"
Bruce studied the tactical analysis. "Phase one: eliminate parademon swarms fast."
"Ojaga, Flash, and I handle speed and energy attacks. Cyborg creates barriers and takes out clusters."
"Phase two: coordinate assault on Steppenwolf."
"He's tough, but six of us working together can overwhelm him."
Clark stood straighter despite his fatigue. "I can still fight."
"We know," Diana said. "But be smart about it."
Ojaga grinned. "Don't worry. We've got this."
The team moved toward their vehicles.
Outside, storm clouds gathered over Gotham Harbor.