Dio pushed open the wooden door of the farmhouse, the hinges letting out their familiar creak.
Clark was just turning to leave when a voice stopped him in his tracks:
"Clark!"
He spun around to see Uncle Locke standing in the shadow of the barn, waving him over.
The afternoon sun bathed Locke in light, outlining a figure that hadn't changed a bit in ten years—
Same faded work shirt, same neatly trimmed stubble, even the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes seemed frozen in time.
"Jonathan and Martha headed into town," Locke said, wiping his flour-dusted forehead with the back of his hand, leaving a white streak. "You're eating here today, Clark."
Clark blinked.
Even though they saw each other almost every day for the past four years, looking at Locke always gave him a weird feeling—
Like staring at a painting that never faded, while everyone else outside it slowly aged.
"Sweet!"
He shook off the thought and bounded through the door in two big strides, bursting with youthful energy.
Yup.
Almost knocked over the vase in the entryway again.
Meanwhile, Dio was already sprawled on the couch, long legs propped on the coffee table, flipping through a copy of On the Origin of Species.
Clark plopped down next to him, lowering his voice.
"Hey, why're you so cold to Seraphiel? You're gonna hurt the kid's feelings."
The sound of turning pages stopped.
"Hmph."
Dio let out a snort through his nose, his red eyes not budging from the book. "Clark, mind your own business."
Clark made a face, feeling like he'd just punched a pillow.
He was about to argue back when a rich, mouthwatering aroma wafted aggressively from the kitchen, yanking both their attention away.
"Dinner's up!"
Locke's booming voice came from the doorway. He emerged from the kitchen, carrying a sizzling platter of glossy, caramelized ribs that glistened with juicy fat.
The sweet, tangy sauce filled the air with a drool-worthy scent.
Clark's eyes went wide.
"Gentlemen Kent," Locke said casually, passing out silverware, "seen Seraphiel around?"
"He was by the creek, patching up a wild rabbit with a sprained leg," Clark said, setting out knives and forks. He glanced at the wall clock and frowned. "That was almost forty minutes ago, though."
That kid.
Off doing his millionth good deed of the day.
Locke rubbed his forehead, exasperated.
Ever since Seraphiel, at three years old, healed a raven with a broken wing—accidentally showing a power straight out of Locke's memories of the Horse Talisman—the kid had been like a switch flipped on.
He was born to do good, it seemed. Any free moment, that tiny figure would vanish to the forest's edge or the depths of the fields, looking for creatures in need.
The wildest was last spring.
Somehow, he'd triggered a full-on animal gratitude parade.
For weeks, the Kent farmhouse porch turned into a magical morning delivery zone—
Fresh raspberries still wet with dew, tender mushrooms, even live fish flopping around!
It was like a scene out of a "hundred beasts repay kindness" fairytale.
Dio spent a whole week eating breakfast under the lingering shadow of fishy stench, his face dark enough to rain.
But the kicker?
Seraphiel, with a look of pure heartbreak, carted those live fish back to the creek in a little bucket to set them free...
The spectacle lasted all spring, growing more intense by the day, until a resigned Locke finally knelt down and had a serious talk with Seraphiel.
No clue what the kid did, but after a while, he actually got his forest friends to cool it with the overzealous gifts, and the farm went back to normal.
"Seraphiel's got a heart of gold—maybe too much," Locke said, sliding a buttery, blueberry-scented pie into the preheated oven. His tone mixed worry with resignation. "Not sure if that's gonna be good for him in the long run…"
Bang!
Before Locke could finish, a towering golden figure appeared out of nowhere by the fridge door. Lucky for Locke, he dodged just in time to avoid tripping over it.
"Dio!" he snapped, glaring at the blond sprawled on the couch. "How many times have I told you? Get it yourself! Stop making The World fetch your drinks!"
"Got it," Dio drawled lazily, not even looking up, just willing his stand into action.
The golden figure smoothly opened the fridge, grabbed an ice-cold soda, and floated it back to Dio, even popping the tab before setting it gently on the coffee table.
Clark, watching the whole thing, was stifling a laugh when—
Rustle… rustle…
A faint, cautious scratching came from outside the living room window.
All three heads turned. There, perched on the sill, was a bright red fox, a blue-purple flower clamped in its mouth.
It deftly lifted a paw, nudged open the unlocked screen, and carefully placed the flower on the leaf of a thriving pothos plant on the sill.
The dining room went dead quiet, save for the soft bubbling from the oven.
"Isn't that… the sick arctic fox Seraphiel secretly saved when we went to the Metropolis Zoo?" Clark gaped, looking at Locke in disbelief. "How'd it end up here?!"
Locke opened his mouth, then just shrugged helplessly, letting the moment speak for itself.
A few minutes later, the clock above the dining table ticked past noon, and the scent of blueberry pie filled the kitchen.
Dio's fork poked lazily at his steak, juices pooling into a little red puddle on his plate.
Ahem.
The head of the house cleared his throat and stood, flipping on the living room TV. "Special treat today—eat and watch."
Clark nodded knowingly. He could tell Locke was waiting for Seraphiel to come back but didn't want to make it obvious.
He glanced at Dio.
Yup.
The blond was finally cutting his steak, but at half his usual speed, his eyes flicking toward the path outside every now and then, like it was no big deal.
Come on.
Clark snickered to himself.
Why's everyone in this family so bad at saying what they mean?
"Should we save a deer leg for Seraphiel?" Clark asked, deliberately tearing the crispy skin off the roasted leg with a loud crunch.
"Nah," Dio said without looking up. "The kid eats like a sparrow anyway."
"Seraphiel's appetite is tiny," Locke chimed in, nodding. "It's weird, considering how you two eat like—"
Zzzzt!
A burst of static from the news channel cut Locke off.
A familiar logo flashed across the screen.
All three froze, forks and knives hovering midair.
"LuthorCorp announced today at its Metropolis headquarters the official launch of the groundbreaking genetic engineering project codenamed 'The Dawn Project'…"
The camera zoomed in.
There stood a familiar man in front of a massive, spinning holographic double helix. His gold-rimmed glasses glinted with cold blue light, a confident smirk playing on his lips.
And half a step beside him was a gaunt, pale…
Bald guy.
"Is that Lex?" Dio said, surprised. "Why's he look so—"
"It's the cameras," Clark mused. "Everyone gets nervous on TV."
"Is that how it works?"
Dio frowned thoughtfully, his eyes glued to the screen.
Lionel's voice on TV suddenly surged, commanding attention.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Our fellow humans!"
"Through deep decoding of the genetic code and cutting-edge technological innovation, we have successfully conquered over seventy percent of congenital genetic disorders!"
"And—most excitingly—over fifty percent of acquired disabilities and injuries!"
"The bright future of humanity lies in our hands! Humanity… will be transformed by our own…"