Seraphiel yanked his hand back as if he'd been shocked, staring in disbelief at his fingertips before his gaze snapped up to lock onto Locke.
The overlapping, inhuman voice within him trembled with unspeakable excitement and ecstasy, distorting into a piercing, almost screeching tone.
"Father! You… you're really… really…!!!"
Bang!
Before those earth-shattering words of confirmation could escape, Seraphiel's body lurched forward. The blazing golden light in his left eye flickered out like a candle snuffed by an invisible hand, vanishing completely.
The expression on his face—a mix of the cold indifference and wild joy that belonged to "Divine City"—faded like a receding tide, replaced by Seraphiel's own bewildered, slightly annoyed confusion.
"Hey! We had a deal! You were only supposed to talk. Why'd you touch my dad?!"
Feeling his territory had been majorly invaded, Seraphiel grumbled in protest within his mind, scolding the "brother" who'd just been forcibly logged out.
"Brother! Lift the restrictions! Let me finish! Father, he… he…!"
In the depths of his consciousness, "Divine City" was practically incoherent with excitement, thrashing about as if he'd uncovered the ultimate secret of the universe but was locked in a soundproof cell, unable to speak.
"Seraphiel? You okay?"
Locke, watching his son's expression flip back to that familiar, innocent look, raised an eyebrow. "What was that just now? He seemed… pretty worked up."
Rubbing his throbbing temples, Seraphiel struggled to suppress the near-exploding "Divine City" in his head. He flashed his dad a tired, helpless smile and made up an excuse on the spot. "It's nothing. He said he's suddenly tired and wants to sleep."
"Tired, huh?"
Locke gave his son a long, knowing look, clearly not buying it but choosing not to press further.
He was more concerned about the bigger issue.
Reaching out again, Locke's warm, steady hand rested gently on Seraphiel's soft hair, carrying a reassuring strength. His voice mixed heartache with a touch of self-reproach.
"Seraphiel… why would you keep something this important to yourself instead of telling me sooner? Were you…" Locke hesitated, choosing his words carefully to avoid hurting his son's sensitive heart, "…scared of something?"
The warmth of his father's touch and the unfiltered concern in his voice made Seraphiel's nose sting.
He looked down, his small hands twisting the hem of his pajamas, his voice low and heavy with pent-up grievances and a hint of lingering fear. "I… I was afraid if I told you… you'd think I was crazy. That you'd send me to a hospital for, like, schizophrenia or something…" His little face paled as he recalled scenes from TV shows with people strapped to hospital beds. "That's how it always goes on TV…"
Locke blinked, caught off guard.
He nearly burst out laughing at his son's earnest worry, but his heart also ached with a tender pang.
This kid, carrying such a massive secret and all that pressure, was scared of this?
"Your little head…" Locke sighed, ruffling Seraphiel's hair into a mess. "It's full of all those wild soap opera plots! I told Clark a million times not to let you watch those loud, dramatic shows from the peninsula!"
"But…"
"I'm sorry, Seraphiel," Locke said, his voice tinged with regret. "I should've noticed this sooner."
He pulled his son into a hug, resting his chin gently on the boy's fluffy head. His tone grew firm.
"Seraphiel, this is the first real lesson I need to teach you as your dad. Listen up, kid.
"No matter what you are, what powers you have, or… who else is living inside you, you're my son. You're a Kent. Home is where you're accepted, no matter what. Got it?"
"Me, Jonathan, Martha, Dio, Clark—we're all part of you, and you're part of us."
Nestled against his father's broad, warm chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat, Seraphiel felt the fear and loneliness of the past days melt away in that embrace.
He nodded hard, burying his face deeper, managing only a muffled "Mhm."
Holding his son, who'd finally let his guard down, Locke felt the boy's complete trust. His mind, though, was a storm of thoughts. Patting Seraphiel's back gently, he asked in a casual, bedtime-story tone, "Seraphiel… when did that other kid show up? Do you remember?"
"Mhm, he says his name's 'Divine City.' He's my brother," Seraphiel said, nuzzling closer as he thought back. "I think… maybe when I was three? I don't remember exactly, but he's been around since I was really little."
"Three, huh…"
Locke's gaze deepened.
Three years old…
That was right around the time the strange energy in Seraphiel's body started to stir, when he began unconsciously tapping into it.
In an instant, the pieces clicked together in Locke's mind. He had two theories.
The first one—
Locke suspected it was a kind of self-regulation triggered by a power too vast for its container. If Seraphiel's body and mind were like a single, unified "bottle," then as he grew, the primal force within him—the blazing, overwhelming "fire energy"—grew far faster than a kid his age could handle.
In other words, the "water" was pouring in faster than the "bottle" could expand to hold it.
Under that immense internal pressure, Seraphiel's subconscious, to protect itself from being overwhelmed, must have forcibly… balanced things out at some unknown point.
Yes, balance.
Drawing on concepts from certain systems Locke knew, it was like this: the yang energy—the fiery power—grew too fast, while the yin energy—control and mental strength—lagged behind, causing an extreme imbalance. To restore basic yin-yang harmony, his body instinctively used divine power to split the "bottle" in two.
Two bottles, two yin aspects, to balance the rapidly growing yang.
The upside? His growth rate effectively doubled. The downside? The massive, overflowing "fire energy" was siphoned off, condensed, and poured into a new "container."
This created a seemingly independent yet fundamentally connected entity within Seraphiel, tied to the same core, carrying the other half of the fire energy—a distinct yin aspect: "Divine City."
To put it simply: to maintain yin-yang balance, the tiger's divine power, awakened somehow within Seraphiel, split him in two. And because that power was rooted in his body, resolving this wasn't as simple as gluing two rocks back together.
This state could only be navigated by Seraphiel himself, over long years of learning, training, and understanding, until one day he grew strong enough—mentally, emotionally, and physically—to master and harmonize these two separated yet shared primal forces into a stable, unified yin-yang whole.
Locke let out a sigh.
That was the optimistic take.
The darker possibility was his second theory.
It's well-known that the DC universe thrives on contradictions. For every positive, there's a negative. For every light, a darkness. For every good, an evil. Without its opposite, existence loses meaning.
Even God, to let mortals perceive His dark side, had to create "The Darkness."
So, what if the yin-yang balance Locke first theorized wasn't just about power imbalance but something deeper? A cosmic balancing act between dark and light forces.
Locke's own abilities came directly from the system, making him still fundamentally human. But the Holy Lord? His essence was primal fire, the Fire Demon, the embodiment of dark energy.
So, what was the light to that darkness?
Seraphiel? Or "Divine City"?
The thought brought a shadow of worry to Locke's face.
Either way, it meant his little son, from such a young age, was destined to carry a burden far beyond what most could imagine.
"I'm sorry, Seraphiel. Your dad's not much help here," Locke murmured, looking at the sleeping boy in his arms. "Maybe… it's time to find you a guide, someone to help you open the door to the mystical world. Magic might speed up your growth."
His mind drifted to a certain quirky yet gifted magician. He wondered how much that once-clumsy girl had grown in the five years since he'd last seen her.
His knowledge of her was mostly limited to the occasional, over-the-top headlines in the papers:
"Genius Magician Zatanna Zatara's American Tour!"
"Shock! One Woman Did WHAT?!"
"Zatara II: Unraveling the Secrets of a Magical Dynasty!"
"No Way?! America's Top Magician Is Actually…"
Locke chuckled quietly.
He gently patted Seraphiel's back.
As a father, he couldn't merge his son's powers for him. But he'd do everything in his power to clear the path, offer guidance, and be there to catch him when he fell.
That was Locke Kent—his most vital, unshakable duty and belief as a father.