Morning dew still clung to the wheat stalks, catching the sunrise and shimmering with golden light.
Locke trudged along the field's edge, his boots sinking into the damp soil, crunching with every step.
He and Clark paused now and then to check the flattened wheat stalks. Last night's storm and that monster's rampage had done a number on the nearly ripe oats.
As for Dio?
Dio was probably still snoozing. That kid, for whatever reason, couldn't be roused this morning no matter how hard they tried.
Like a little pig, he'd answered Clark's wake-up call with nothing but snores.
"That kid," Locke said, wiping sweat from his brow and glancing back toward the farmhouse. "What the heck were you guys up to last night?"
"He didn't even get up for blueberry pancakes."
At the mention of pancakes, Clark swallowed hard.
He'd polished off four servings this morning, including Dio's share.
"It's fine, Uncle Locke. I can handle Dio's chores too," Clark said.
"Clark," Locke sighed, "you're spoiling him."
He pulled Clark closer, studying the boy's face.
The sunlight spilled over Clark's curly hair, giving it a golden glow.
Though still a bit pale, those blue eyes had regained their usual brightness.
The kryptonite's effects were almost gone.
"Clark, stay away from those green rocks," Locke said seriously. "If someone comes near you with one, the second you spot it, chuck a stone at them if you have to—just don't get close, got it?"
"Those rocks…"
"They sap your strength."
"They dull your senses, like—"
Clark shuddered, remembering the awful helplessness from last night.
It was like someone had yanked out all his bones! Even breathing had felt like a luxury.
"But Uncle Locke," Clark said, blinking in confusion, "what if a bad guy threatens you all and uses one of those green rocks?"
"Then you keep your distance even more!"
Locke's voice rose, startling a flock of sparrows from the field's edge.
"Listen, Clark." He crouched, grabbing a handful of dirt and letting the brown grains slip through his fingers. "Every farmer knows you don't fight a locust swarm by diving in and swinging."
"You use smoke to drive them off first."
"So…" Clark slowly clenched his fists. "If I see a green rock…"
"Treat it like a burning barn," Dio's voice cut in.
Somehow, he'd caught up to them, munching on half a pancake.
The blond kid took a fierce bite, his red eyes glinting like twin flames in the sunlight.
His shirt buttons were misaligned, his hair a total mess—clearly, he'd rushed out of bed.
Locke raised an eyebrow. "Finally decided to grace us with your presence?"
"Shut it, Dad! You couldn't even wake me up!" Dio tossed a pancake to Clark and stomped toward the flattened field. "I'm here to make sure this big lug does his job!"
Clark grinned, his blue eyes curving into crescents as he held the warm pancake, its edges slathered with blueberry jam. "Thanks, Dio."
"Shut up and eat!"
"…Okay."
Dio's tsundere attitude and Clark's earnestness—Locke couldn't help but chuckle.
He couldn't wait to see what these two would be like when they grew up.
"Hey, you two," Locke called, stopping and pointing to the center of the field. "Look at that wheat stalk."
"?"
Both boys froze, following his finger to a single stalk standing tall amid the flattened oats.
Its heavy, full head swayed gently in the morning breeze, like a proud general.
"Whoa!"
"That's awesome!"
Clark jogged over, carefully touching the stalk. "It's so strong! Uncle, are you saying we should be like it?"
"Stealing my thunder already?" Locke laughed. "You're growing up, Clark."
"But what I want you to see…" His tone shifted as he crouched, running his fingers over a fallen stalk. "Is this."
The downed wheat was caked in mud, some stems snapped.
Once-full heads now lay scattered in the dirt, their bent stalks lifeless.
"Listen up, both of you," Locke said softly but clearly. "Standing tall is something to be proud of, but falling doesn't mean you've failed."
He snapped a fallen stalk, revealing its still-green core.
"Look, they're still alive."
"As long as they're not swept away, this storm will make their roots dig deeper. Come next year, they'll soak up more nutrients and grow even stronger."
Clark blinked, then crouched beside Locke, mimicking his uncle as he inspected a stalk. "So… what Jotaro said about the future…"
Locke chuckled.
The kid acted like he didn't care, but deep down, he was still hung up on it, always sneaking in questions when he could.
"Exactly like these fallen stalks," Locke said, brushing mud off Clark's pants. "A little hardship's nothing. Just keep growing, and nature's miracles will bring new life."
"No, no, no."
"You're wrong, Dad."
Of course, there was always a rebellious son ready to challenge Locke.
Dio stood on the field's edge, arms crossed, lips curled in a defiant smirk, his red eyes blazing with determination. He marched into the field, boots squelching in the mud, and pointed at the fallen stalks.
"I've read books, you know."
"In the wild, these fallen stalks won't make it to next year."
"They'll rot, mold, and end up as fertilizer for that one 'lucky' stalk."
The teen poked the lone standing stalk, making grains fall, and snorted. "I, Dio, am not gonna be anybody's fertilizer."
Locke froze, the sunlight glinting in his surprised eyes.
Survival instinct?
Is that the will of darkness?
He hadn't expected Dio to be thinking on this level already.
"Interesting…" A grin spread across Locke's face. "So you wanna be the one still standing?"
"Obviously!" Dio thrust his chin up, but then his brows furrowed. "But…"
His gaze swept the field, a flicker of uncertainty in his red eyes.
"Actually, I kinda want—"
"Like this!" Clark jumped in, looking from Dio to Locke. "Can I be the field's edge?"
Both Kents turned, their faces mirroring the same confusion.
"Look!" Clark gestured, his blue eyes sparkling. "The edge doesn't get knocked down by the wind, and it protects the wheat from getting trampled."
"Idiot!" Dio bonked Clark on the head. "The edge is just dirt! You're a person! And the edge gets stepped on every day to protect the crops!"
"Ow!"
"Clark, is your head made of iron?!"
Locke burst out laughing as the two boys bickered, his laughter startling a flock of larks into the clear blue sky.
"Alright, you two," he said, placing a hand on each of their heads. "A thousand people have a thousand different dreams."
Dio frowned. "Ham-what?"
"It's like…" Locke paused, rephrasing. "Some want to be the standing stalk, some want to be the field's edge. Both are fine."
"But listen—" His expression turned serious as he tapped each boy's chest. "You can be whoever you want to be."
"Just don't ever be the bad guy."
The sunlight seemed brighter in that moment, casting their shadows long across the field.
Dio's red eyes flickered, Clark's curly hair gleamed with golden flecks, and Locke's words sank into their hearts like seeds:
"That's my bottom line, boys."
"Locke Kent's final rule."