"Clark, big bro! The kitten just bowed to me!"
After dropping off the little orange tabby at the animal shelter, Seraphiel barreled toward Clark like a tiny cannonball, his backpack straps slipping down to his elbows. His soft black hair fluffed up in the autumn breeze, looking like a dandelion gone wild.
Clark instinctively crouched down, catching his little brother's flying tackle with ease, though the solid impact made him wobble just a bit.
Is this kid running on rocket fuel or what? He's growing way too fast! Clark thought to himself.
"Oh, I forgot to ask—why're you picking me up today?" Seraphiel tilted his head up, his obsidian eyes sparkling. "Don't you usually train till the sun goes down?"
"And, uh… did you just sneak a mint?"
"Well, about that…"
Clark scratched the tip of his nose, his mind flashing back to the chaos in the locker room earlier. When he'd announced he was skipping practice, his teammates had erupted into whistles, and the captain had even stuffed a whole box of mints into his jacket.
"Fresh breath essentials!" the note had read.
---
The golden glow of the sunset spilled across the country road as Clark held Seraphiel's small hand, strolling leisurely toward home.
Seraphiel bounced along, gleefully stomping on his stretched-out shadow like it was a game.
Clark's gaze drifted to the rolling waves of golden wheat in the distance, his thoughts scattering like windblown chaff.
He snapped back to reality when a small tug pulled at his shirt.
"Clark, big bro," Seraphiel said, tilting his head, still clutching Clark's wrinkled hem. "You're walking all goofy—same hand, same foot!"
"Huh? Am I?"
"Yup!"
"Seraphiel…"
Clark crouched to eye level with his brother, his blue eyes showing a rare hint of teenage angst. "You know…"
"Forget that for a sec…" Seraphiel nodded sagely, then stood on his tiptoes, reaching a tiny hand toward Clark's forehead. "Are you sick or something? Dio says dummies don't get fevers, but what if you're, like, an evolved dummy…"
"I'm not a dummy, Seraphiel," Clark said, gently pushing his brother's hand away with a mock scowl. He hesitated, locking eyes with Seraphiel's pure, dark gaze, his blue eyes betraying a mix of shyness and frustration only a teenage boy could muster. "You know how to, uh…"
"How to what?"
Seraphiel's little brows furrowed, the dried paint on his sleeves flaking off with his movements.
Taking a deep breath, Clark steeled himself, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "How do you… you know… ask a girl out?"
"Ask a girl out?" The five-year-old blinked his big eyes, like it was the easiest question in the world. "You just go up and say, 'Wanna hang out?' That's how I get people to build Legos with me."
He scrunched his face, thinking hard. "Oh, and I saw this guy on TV—some big star named Cavill or something. He said, 'If you like a girl, just ask her out. Works every time.'"
Clark's jaw dropped. "That's it? Just like that?"
"Yup, just like that!" Seraphiel nodded vigorously, a stray lock of black hair bouncing. "Last week, I shared my gummy bears with Lucy, and she totally agreed to help me feed the chickens at school!"
"Brother, that's not gonna work," whispered "Divine City" in his ear. "Clark needs something simpler."
"Like, with his strength, he could just knock the girl out. Isn't that an invitation too?"
"Divine City, no! That's not what he means!"
As Seraphiel zoned out, nibbling his finger, Clark buried his face in his hands, feeling like his little brother's innocent chatter was grinding his IQ into the dirt.
Dear God… what am I doing, asking a five-year-old for dating advice?
"Okay, but…" Clark's voice muffled through his hands, thick with defeat. "What if, when you get near the girl, your heart's pounding like a drum, your legs turn to jelly, and you can barely string a sentence together?"
"Jelly legs?!"
Seraphiel gasped, his grape-like eyes widening as if he'd just cracked the code to the universe. Pointing a tiny finger at Clark, his voice shot up an octave. "Big bro, are you in lo—?!"
"Whoa!"
Before the earth-shattering word could escape, Clark's hand clamped over Seraphiel's mouth, silencing him.
A lizard on a nearby branch froze in shock, skittering away.
Seraphiel blinked up at Clark, his lashes tickling his brother's palm.
"It's not like that!"
Even Clark's ears turned red as a pickled tomato at being called out by his five-year-old brother. "It's about the football team! Homecoming! The cheer squad!"
He flailed his hands, trying to explain. "If Lana Lang doesn't join, I'll have to wash my own uniform—"
"I get it," Seraphiel said, prying Clark's fingers off his face, his expression as serious as a tiny judge. "So, you're trying to trick Lana into being your girlfriend so you don't have to wash your stinky socks?"
"No, no, no! Not trick! I'm asking her to join the cheer squad, not be my girlfriend! Seraphiel, you're way off—"
"Huh?"
Seraphiel blinked innocently.
Clark's words cut off as his gaze locked onto a figure by the riverbank ahead.
The sunset glowed molten gold, shimmering on the winding river.
There, standing alone, was a familiar figure.
Her chestnut hair caught the light, tinged red-gold by the fading sun. A light blue dress swayed in the breeze, outlining her slender frame.
Lana Lang.
What's she doing here?
Clark's heart skipped a beat, a guilty thrill rushing through him.
"Ohhh~"
Catching his brother's distraction, Seraphiel followed his gaze, a sly grin spreading across his face. He tugged at Clark's shirt. "That's her, huh~"
"You little—"
Clark ruffled Seraphiel's hair, half-annoyed, but his heart was racing out of control.
He took a deep breath, psyching himself up. No hesitation. Like Seraphiel said, no tricks needed! Clark Kent, just be honest and get over this weird shaky-leg thing! For the football team!
But just as he took a step forward—
BOOM!
A shrill, ear-splitting roar of an engine tore through the evening's calm, shattering the peace. A silver supercar burst from the bushes by the riverbank, roaring like an unchained beast!
VROOM!
Tires chewed up the grass, kicking up a storm of dirt and green clippings. The car barreled straight toward the defenseless figure on the shore—
Lana!
Time slowed to a crawl.
Clark could see every detail: Lana's startled turn, the way her chestnut hair whipped up in panic, the thunder of his own blood pounding in his ears.
"Watch out—!"
His body moved before his brain could catch up. He shot forward like an arrow, a blur in Seraphiel's eyes.
But in that split second, as he closed in on Lana, that familiar, infuriating wave of weakness flooded his body, nearly buckling his knees!
Yet, at the last moment, momentum carried him forward. He dove, almost parallel to the ground, and in the final second before the car could hit her, Clark's arms wrapped around her waist like iron bands.
"Ah!"
They crashed onto the soft riverbank mud, rolling several times, narrowly dodging the roaring steel beast as it screamed past.
The acrid smell of burnt rubber and swirling dust filled the air.
Lana, heart pounding, lay in Clark's arms, gasping for breath, still reeling from the near miss.
The fading sunlight traced the tense line of his jaw. His familiar scent—grass and sweat—cut through her fear, stirring a long-buried memory.
Her eyes widened, and her voice trembled with disbelief and a hint of something she hadn't even realized she felt. "Clark?! Is that you?"
Her warm breath brushed his neck, carrying a faint citrus scent.
But Clark had no time to process her words.
CRASH!
A massive splash echoed as the out-of-control Lamborghini plunged into the rushing river, sending up a geyser of water before the murky current swallowed it whole.
"Stay here!"
Pushing Lana aside, Clark scrambled to the riverbank, his legs still trembling uncontrollably.
He had to save whoever was in there!
The moment he hit the water, that crippling weakness vanished like a receding tide.
Power—raw, familiar power—surged through his limbs.
Without hesitation, Clark dove in like a sleek swordfish, cutting through the murky water.
The river turned clear as air in his eyes. In a blink, he reached the sinking car.
Inside, a pale, bald young man in an expensive suit pounded futilely against the water-sealed door. Bubbles of oxygen escaped his mouth like desperate pearls, his eyes wide with the terror of impending death.
No time for flair. Clark clenched his fist, channeling his restored strength, and smashed the driver's window with a single blow.
CRACK!
The bulletproof glass shattered.
This guy… he looks kinda familiar. Have I seen him before?
The thought flickered in Clark's mind, but there was no time to dwell. Saving him came first.
Grabbing the man's slick collar, Clark braced his feet against the car's roof and pushed off with a powerful kick.
WHOOSH!
They shot out of the water like a cannonball.
The last rays of sunlight sank below the horizon, painting the sky a haunting blood-red, as if marking the end of this heart-pounding ordeal.
Cough, cough, retch!
The bald young man sprawled on the shore like a dying fish, hacking up filthy river water.
His pricey suit was caked in mud and weeds, clinging wetly to his frame, making him look almost comical.
But when he finally caught his breath and looked up at the soaked, angry young man glaring down at him, his gray-blue eyes contracted in shock, then disbelief, and finally wild, relieved joy.
"Clark Kent!"
His hoarse voice cracked with excitement, like he was reuniting with a long-lost brother. "It's really you?! You saved me?!"
"Who are—?!" Clark's anger faded as the man called his name. He squinted at the bald head, recognition dawning. "Lex?! It's you!"
"You're finally back, man!" Clark exclaimed. "Where's Uncle Lionel?! Ms. Gray said you guys were off in Asia and Africa these past few years! You know Uncle Locke and Dad have been missing you like crazy. Where've you been? You just vanished!"
"And what's the deal with that Human Rebirth Project your company's working on? Is your business really about to become, like, humanity's shining star or what?"
Lex didn't answer Clark's rapid-fire questions.
Instead, he staggered to his feet and threw his arms around Clark in a tight hug.
"I'm back, Clark, Dio," Lex's voice boomed in Clark's ear, hoarse and trembling with an eerie edge. "I finally got out of that cursed place!"
Clark froze.
Why did his childhood friend sound like he'd just crawled out of hell?
On the riverbank, Lana stood frozen, her chestnut hair still dripping.
Saved by Clark again, she felt a spark of joy and wanted to thank him properly—he'd always been that unreachable boy in her life.
But… shouldn't she be the main character in this near-disaster? Why did she feel like an awkward bystander now?
As embarrassment crept in, she felt a gentle tug at her skirt.
"Hey, sis~"
Lana looked down to see a paint-splattered black-haired boy grinning up at her, his little tiger teeth peeking out.
The sunset danced on his lashes, making his obsidian eyes shine. "I'm Seraphiel Kent!" He dug a gummy bear from his pocket. "Want one?"
"Thanks, little gentleman," Lana said, taking the candy with a smile. "You're adorable."
"Right?"
Seraphiel puffed out his chest proudly. "I'm one of the few real gentlemen in the Kent family!"
By the riverbank, Lex let go of Clark.
His gaze drifted past Clark's shoulder to Seraphiel, chatting with Lana. His gray-blue eyes swirled with unreadable emotions. "That's… Seraphiel?"
Five years. The baby Uncle Locke used to cradle was now handing out gummy bears.
Five years…
And Lex had finally clawed his way out from under his father's shadow.