"Everyone, let me introduce my son—Eden Kent. Student at Reginald Vel Johnson High School. Next year, odds are good he'll be off to Harvard or Princeton."
Clark beamed, one arm slung around an old teammate's shoulder, proudly parading Eden in front of the Guardians of the Globe.
"A scholar too," Red Rush said with an admiring look.
"Super-genius brain, straight from Clark," Darkwing muttered. "Not like it matters. Even if he flunked out, every college on Earth would beg for him. A recommendation from Superman gets doors kicked wide open."
"Hey, kid!" The Immortal staggered forward, bourbon in hand, eyes bloodshot. "Don't I know you from somewhere?" He squinted, studying Eden. "You look… familiar."
"You're drunk," Eden said quickly, shaking his head. "First time we've ever met." At least with this face, he added silently. God, this is so weird.
"Clark, seriously," The Immortal pressed, turning to his father. "No cousins? Brothers? Anyone?"
"Nope. Just my wife, Nolanne, and my son," Clark said easily.
The Immortal frowned, muttering under his breath.
"What's with him?" Clark asked War Woman.
She hesitated, then sighed. "This is going to sound insane, but while you were off on vacation… we met another Superman. He wasn't like you, Clark. He answered directly to Cecil. Ruthless. Lethal. When The Immortal pushed for answers, Cecil shut him down and threw him out of the team."
Her voice dropped lower. "We figured maybe it was a clone. Something built from your DNA. But we've never found proof."
Clark frowned, feigning confusion, but his gaze flickered—just once—toward Eden.
Eden immediately ducked his head, playing ostrich, wishing the earth would swallow him. Shrink, shrink, shrink. Be invisible.
Green Ghost noticed, brows twitching, but chose not to call it out.
"That suit of his—did you design it?" Martian Man asked Nolanne, intrigued. "Impressive craftsmanship."
"Thank you," Nolanne replied smoothly.
"Looks great if you're Martian," Eden thought grimly. For Earth? Absolute fashion disaster. He silently vowed to bury the thing in his closet forever—if it hadn't been his mom's gift, he'd never have worn it once.
"This fish is delicious."
Aquarus happily munched on goldfish from the Kent family tank.
Eden winced. Okay. Maybe not the easiest guest after all.
"You don't understand," The Immortal barreled on. "I saw him. Black suit, tearing into a white-furred lion in the skies over Kentucky. I tried to get close. The shockwaves alone knocked me halfway across the state."
"Pffft—!"
Wine sprayed. Nolanne had been sipping red when she overheard him, and it came blasting out of her nose and mouth—directly onto The Immortal.
"Sorry!" She shoved a towel at him, mortified.
He wiped himself down, frowning. "What's with that reaction? You've seen him, haven't you? That black-suited Superman?"
"I… don't know what you're talking about," Nolanne said quickly, dabbing at her lips with a napkin.
The Immortal's suspicion deepened.
But Clark stepped in, chuckling smoothly. "She just choked, that's all. She's been in Hawaii with me the whole time. Anything I don't know? She doesn't either. Let me apologize on her behalf, my friend." He clapped The Immortal's shoulder and downed a heavy swig of bourbon.
The Immortal relaxed, laughing. "Still the good stuff."
Meanwhile, Nolanne leaned close to Eden. "Don't worry. I'll help you keep the secret."
"Perfect," Eden muttered, flashing her an OK sign under the table.
Across the room, Red Rush stiffened. Did I just overhear—? Black Suit Super is their kid? …Well, that actually explains everything. Forget it. Didn't hear a damn thing. He turned his head and forced it out of his mind.
Darkwing had already pieced it together too. Clark's kid. Makes sense. Fine. I'll keep the secret.
War Woman's eyes narrowed slightly. She understood now as well.
Only The Immortal kept ranting. "Clark, you've got to see him. That black-suited Superman—scary strong. And the lion he fought? Demon-like. Terrifying."
That was when a bright light flared in the Kent Residence living room.
Donald Ferguson materialized mid-teleport, voice booming before his body fully solidified. "Eden! We did it! After a week of work, with Madman's help, we dissected that lion you killed and turned its hide into a custom coat!"
He stepped forward proudly—then froze.
The Guardians. All of them. Staring daggers.
"Uh… good afternoon, everyone." Donald swallowed hard, pasted on a weak smile, then leaned toward Eden and muttered, "Boss… bad timing?"
Eden dragged a hand down his face. "What do you think?"
"Why the hell did you have to come now?"
Eden shot Donald a suspicious look.
Honestly, Eden was pretty sure Donald had been itching to screw him over for a while, and he'd chosen this exact moment to show up just to make things worse.
"You said it yourself. The moment the coat was finished, I was to deliver it straight into your hands." Donald defended himself, then muttered under his breath, "I'm the top agent. I always complete the mission, one hundred percent."
Eden barked a laugh. "The first moment, huh? Use your brain, Donald. Really think for a second. You think this is the right occasion to hand me that coat?" He waved toward the living room packed with superheroes, his grin sharp with frustration.
"But boss, you were also the one who ordered us to pull every camera and bug out of this place." Donald's tone turned almost whiny. "We've got zero eyes in this room. Hell, nothing within a full kilometer around the Kent Residence. We're blind."
"Adapt, Donald. Adapt!" Eden jabbed two fingers at his own temple like he was trying to drill the concept into Donald's skull.
"The coat…"
The Immortal's gaze lingered on the fur draped over Donald's arms, his expression unusually tight.
Then he laughed. Loud. "Clark, look! That beast I told you about—the white lion? Same creature this coat came from!"
The Guardians fell silent as one.
"…Wait. White lion? And Clark's family?"
For the first time in thousands of years, the gears inside The Immortal's head actually turned. His eyes shifted between the coat and Eden—Clark's son. His focus sharpened.
Under the lamp, it's darkest, the realization struck him like lightning. Why had he only ever assumed the Black Suit Super had to be Clark's brother? Why couldn't he be Clark's son instead?
Or was it just pride—his refusal to admit he'd been beaten down by an eighteen-year-old kid?
"Holy shit." The Immortal jabbed a finger at Eden, voice breaking. "It's you. You're the Black Suit Super."
"You're an idiot." Eden didn't even flinch. "Everyone in this room already figured it out. You're the only one still lost. If not for Donald stumbling in like the buffoon he is, you never would've known."
Enough was enough—Eden dropped the act. He was the one who'd kicked The Immortal off the team. He was Black Suit Super.
Boom.
He left the room, changed out of his battlesuit upstairs, and carefully stored away the one Nolanne had given him. Ugly or not, it was still a gift from his mother. Then, with a thought, Eden donned his own suit and came back down. This time, he lifted the veil on his identity—no more mental blind spot. Everyone could see his face clearly.
"Clark! Look—it's him! It's really him!" The Immortal's lips trembled as he stared.
"Shut up, Immortal!" Eden jabbed a finger in his face, fury blazing. "If you weren't my dad's old friend, I'd have launched you to Mars already and left your dumb ass there to rot."
In Eden's eyes, The Immortal was nothing but a fool.
Especially knowing what he'd seen across other timelines—where Mark handed Earth's fate to this man. And what did he do with that responsibility? Mass slaughter. Because, in his words, he "wasn't capable."
Bullshit excuses. If you can't handle the role, give it up. Don't cling to power while doing things only an idiot would.
The rest of the Guardians could slide. Eden had patience for them. But The Immortal? No. He'd cut him in half if not for his father. And to make sure the bastard didn't revive, he'd scatter the pieces—half to Mars for the king to watch over, the other half to Jupiter. Eternal sleep.
The party collapsed in awkward silence after that, ruined by Eden's outburst.
Outside the Kent Residence
"You guys really knew all along?" The Immortal asked the others.
Their silence was louder than words.
"…We're not friends anymore." His voice cracked. Wiping at his eyes, The Immortal shot into the sky and vanished.
"We're just letting him leave like that?!" Red Rush snapped, unable to hold back.
"He's not exactly bright," Darkwing said evenly, watching him disappear. Then his gaze flicked to Donald. "But what I do wonder—why does Donald call Clark's son 'boss'?" His smirk was sharp, merciless as always.
Even if The Immortal had once been a benefactor to his people.
Inside the Kent Residence
"Eden. An explanation." Clark dismissed the Guardians and now stood facing his eldest son, brows furrowed.
Eden threw both hands up, half-mock salute, half-surrender. "I confess!"
"Start talking." Clark dragged a chair over, sat down, and gave a single nod.
Nolanne tried to step in, but Clark's hand lifted slightly—no. This was between father and son.
She sighed, shot Eden a helpless shrug, and stepped back.
"Where do I even start?" Eden looked like a kid caught red-handed, panic in his eyes. Which, to be fair, he was.
"From the beginning," Clark said calmly. "From when you met Cecil, all the way to getting The Immortal booted from the Guardians."
"Fine…" Eden scratched his head. "About a month ago, some aliens invaded—Flaxans. I trashed them. Cecil noticed."
He recounted the story—slamming Flaxans, diving into the Earth's core, wiping out threats like giant insects and subterraneans.
"But The Immortal didn't like it. He's always protecting… I dunno, crap that doesn't deserve it. Anyway, I wiped them all out." Eden's tone hardened. "And then he tried to force Cecil to reveal my identity. I wasn't about to let him ruin my life, so Cecil kicked him off the team."
"And that's it." Eden crossed his arms, meeting his father's gaze. "Done talking."
"That's all?" Clark asked.
"That's all."
Eden braced himself, waiting for the lecture.
"My son…" Clark raised a hand.
Here it comes. Bad Kid Correction Tool, incoming.
"…did the right thing."
Instead, Clark's massive palm landed gently on his head, ruffling his hair. His smile was proud.
"Mercy taken too far only costs you more. It will drag you into regrets that strip you bare until there's nothing left. Learning that so young—it makes me proud, Eden."
Eden froze.
No. This isn't right.
Something was wrong. Seriously wrong.
This wasn't what Superman would say.
Cecil's voice echoed in his mind, that old warning Eden had always brushed off as a joke: "Eden, your father isn't normal. I've never seen someone so perfect. Perfection hides things. Things that might be even more dangerous than Nolanne."
Not good. Not good at all.
Eden's gut twisted. He would've preferred a lecture, a scolding, anything over blind agreement.
"My son's got good taste," Clark added warmly, his eyes lingering on Eden's battlesuit.
Eden's blood ran cold.
Something about his father was terrifyingly, horribly wrong.
----
🔹 Read 8 chapters ahead! → patreon.com/NiaXD