What's a Gen Mountain?
The sharp steak knife sliced through the perfectly cooked beef like it was butter.
As Locke slipped a piece into his mouth, he could clearly feel it—
A surge of energy coursing silently through his body, like a tiny black hole just waking up.
With every chew of the juicy, tender meat, he wasn't just satisfying his taste buds. He was absorbing every bit of biological energy locked in the muscle fibers! That greedy demonic aura inside him precisely captured, broke down, and devoured it all! It turned into a steady stream, flowing into every part of his body.
Man.
Talk about intense.
Just the energy from a single steak boosted his grip strength by about…
Okay, not by much.
For the demonic aura of the mountain, food provided such a tiny amount of energy that it took years of buildup. After all, even a mountain demon like Bogan had to consume entire worlds over countless eras to evolve to that level.
All of Locke's binge-eating over the past few years? It only bumped his strength up by three or four tons.
Still nowhere near the power he'd drawn from Zatanna's magic or the energy he'd siphoned from Dio's little stone.
Crack—!
The knife accidentally scraped the plate, letting out a jarring screech.
Locke snapped out of it, noticing all three kids staring at him.
"Ahem."
"What're you looking at?" Locke cleared his throat. "Keep eating."
"Especially you, Sarafiel. If you're hungry, dig in." He downed the last half-glass of juice, feeling the rich liquid turn into energy coursing through him. Smiling, he ruffled Sarafiel's hair. "Little food monster."
"Mhm!"
Sarafiel nodded, his mouth stuffed with food, mumbling in agreement.
His clear blue eyes squinted with satisfaction from the delicious meal, momentarily forgetting the shadows and secrets of the forest.
---
"Brother, you're finally accepting me."
Sarafiel saw himself standing in the middle of a burning wheat field.
Dark golden scales spread from his fingertips, crawling over his body like something alive.
His bones twisted and reshaped, his spine bursting through his skin to form a menacing dragon tail. Every breath spewed sulfur-scented flames.
"Sarafiel—!"
Clark's anxious shout came from the distance.
He instinctively turned to respond—
Boom!
His dragon claw effortlessly crushed the farmhouse, countless blueberry pies turning to ash in the flames.
A wave of heat slammed forward like a solid wall, hurling the blond figure with that ever-mocking grin through the air!
For the first time, those crimson eyes reflected in the firelight showed raw, unbelieving shock.
"Sarafiel?! You—!"
"Look, brother…" A cold, seductive whisper slithered into his ear. "This is our true form… Embrace it…"
"No—!!!"
Sarafiel jolted upright in bed, his heart pounding like it was about to burst out of his chest!
Cold sweat soaked his thin pajamas, leaving them sticky and chilly.
The room was dead silent.
Only pale moonlight slipped through the curtain's gap, casting a stark line on the floor, like it was dividing light from dark.
"Bad dream?"
A voice, laced with concern but tinged with something colder, echoed softly.
The thick shadows under the bed writhed like a living thing, seeping onto the floor and faintly forming the shape of a boy who looked almost exactly like him.
Except this boy's eyes were dark and sinister, his lips curled in a faint, wicked smirk.
"Ugh…" The dark-haired boy sighed dramatically, his voice dripping with fake sympathy. "My poor brother… tormented by those pointless fears again?"
"…"
Sarafiel didn't even glance at him. He rolled over, yanking the blanket over his head, trying to block it all out.
But…
When he closed his eyes, all he saw were fragments of the dream—
The crackling roar of the burning wheat field, the giant windmill collapsing in flames…
What shook him more was remembering how, when he'd destroyed that robot earlier, deep down…
He'd felt an indescribable thrill!
That wasn't me…
Sarafiel denied it in his mind, burying his face deeper into the soft pillow.
It's God's City!
It's messing with me…
It has to be!
"Blaming me again, brother?"
"I am you, and you are me," the cold whisper pierced through the blanket, clinging to his ear like a parasite. "How could I possibly control your will out of nowhere? That thrill… it came from you."
"Get lost!"
Sarafiel couldn't take it anymore. He threw off the blanket and growled.
He jumped out of bed, grabbing his pillow like a shield, glaring warily at the shadowy "brother."
The boy's figure grew fainter in the moonlight.
He shook his head in disappointment, his form fading, leaving only a mocking sigh lingering in the air.
"Brother… you're too weak."
---
At the same time.
In the master bedroom.
Locke stood alone by the huge floor-to-ceiling window, the pale moonlight casting a faint silver outline around his tall figure, like a silent statue.
He raised his hand, his fingertip casually tracing the air—
Rip.
Like slicing through an invisible canvas with the sharpest knife, space split open with a thin black crack.
"Rawr."
A soft, almost whiny growl sounded.
Then, a palm-sized, sleek dragon shadow cautiously poked its head out of the crack. Its dark golden scales shimmered mysteriously in the moonlight.
It playfully circled Locke's fingers before nuzzling his palm like a kitten seeking comfort.
"Greedy little thing."
A helpless smile flashed in Locke's eyes, his lips curving slightly.
Then, with practiced ease, he pulled a neatly wrapped chocolate from his pajama pocket and peeled back the foil.
The little dragon's golden energy eyes lit up like stars!
It let out a joyful chirp, snatching the chocolate and doing an excited flip in the air.
In the next moment, the chocolate crumbs turned into tiny, firefly-like golden specks, quickly absorbed by the dragon.
Who would've thought…
These little guys were the souls of fearsome dragons, once caged in the Dragon Court, capable of making the world tremble?
Locke's gaze passed through the open crack, peering into the depths of the Dragon Court.
Before him stretched a vast void.
A pocket world.
Countless dragon souls, each with a unique form and radiating ancient, ferocious energy, drifted slowly within.
They should've been terrifying, but…
Right now, they were like a bunch of tamed koi, crowded near the crack, their massive, soul-fire-burning eyes fixed on Locke, brimming with unmasked hunger and longing.
Clearly, they'd been starving for centuries.
Shaking his head lightly, Locke's gaze pierced through the swarm of ravenous dragons to the deepest part.
A jarring, cold metallic glint caught his eye!
It was WRX9!
Like a stubborn, filthy industrial stain, it was lodged in the distorted energy currents at the edge of the spatial rift. Its red scanning eye flickered erratically in the void, like a dying ember.
This was the third time…
Locke narrowed his eyes, a mix of caution and confusion stirring in his gaze.
First in the cornfield, then in the barn, and now in the hills, where Sarafiel had trapped it in another dimension.
This thing…
It was like some kind of farm-bound spirit!
He'd already collected most of the kryptonite in Smallville, yet this thing kept showing up.
"So you're not just gonna keep popping up like this, are you?"
Locke sighed, his fingers twitching to close the spatial crack.
"Rawr—!"
The little dragon let out a grumpy protest, circling the closing void reluctantly before vanishing in a streak of light.
"Alright, time for bed."
Knock knock.
The soft knock barely disturbed the quiet night.
Sarafiel?
Locke raised an eyebrow.
At this hour, it could only be his youngest son. No one else would come looking for him.
Was the kid finally ready to open up?
A flicker of relief and anticipation crossed his mind. Locke quickly softened his expression, making his voice warm and encouraging.
He cleared his throat and said gently, "Come in."
Click.
The sound of the doorknob turning was sharp in the quiet night.
Locke could already picture the little guy standing in the doorway, head down, clutching his pillow, hesitating to spill his secrets.
Moonlight spilled across the floor, painting a silver path.
With a fatherly smile, Locke turned, arms open, ready to give his son—who was finally ready to talk—a warm, comforting hug—
Then his smile froze.
It was Dio at the door.
The blond teen stood there, pillow in hand, his face radiating obvious impatience, brows furrowed.
"…"
Father and son stared at each other in the moonlight, eyes locked.
Locke was suddenly very glad he hadn't blurted out something sappy like "Daddy's good boy."
"Father, are you surprised?" Dio snorted.
"Uh…"
Locke coughed, trying to regain his composure. "Dio? You… you want to sleep with me, big guy?"
Even he cringed at how awkward that sounded.
"No thanks, I'll pass."
Dio's voice was flat, almost businesslike.
He stepped forward, shoving the pillow into Locke's still-open, slightly stiff arms.
Then, like pulling a rabbit out of a hat, he yanked out a small, sheepishly grinning figure from behind him—
Sarafiel, in his little dinosaur pajamas.
"He wanted to sleep with me. But unfortunately, tonight's my meditation-with-the-world session."
"So, he's your problem now."
Click.
The door shut, and Locke, face darkening, looked down at the boy in his arms.
"Hey, Dad, evening!" Sarafiel grinned, showing off his baby teeth.
---