[Third Person POV]
"SUPERMAN!!!"
Clark's head snapped to the side, his super-hearing catching someone yelling his name in the distance. He sighed lightly, tilting his head. "Now, if you'll excuse me… it seems like someone is calling to me."
With a sudden burst of speed, Clark vanished from where he stood, a blur of red and white cutting across the sky. The wind whipped around him as he soared over the small town, past its clustered streets and out toward the neighboring settlement. It didn't take long before he spotted the source of the call: two figures standing on the highest rooftop, their arms waving frantically to get his attention.
Floating down with practiced ease, he recognized the familiar faces—Lala and Momo. Clark descended slowly, cape fluttering in the breeze as he came to hover just a few feet above the roof's edge.
"What do you two need?" he asked, brows furrowed, a hint of impatience in his voice. "I'm in the middle of something—"
The words stopped dead in his throat the moment his eyes fell on Lala. For a few seconds, he simply stared at her in silence. She stood proudly—or rather, trying to stand proudly—in a brightly colored, overly flashy suit that looked like some strange attempt to imitate his iconic costume.
"Bwahahahaha!!" Clark suddenly doubled over, clutching his stomach as uncontrollable laughter poured out of him. He pointed a finger at her, barely able to breathe between bursts. "What the hell are you wearing!? You look so stupid! Hahahaha!!"
Lala's face immediately flushed crimson. She tugged nervously at the hem of her suit, eyes downcast, lips pouting as her cheeks puffed out in frustration.
"Hahaha! Wait—hold on—hold on!" Clark tried to calm himself, tears forming in the corners of his eyes from laughing too hard. "Dear lord, I can't remember the last time I laughed this much!" He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, shaking his head in disbelief.
When his chuckling finally subsided, Clark turned to Momo, raising a brow in mock disappointment. "Really? You actually let her walk out of the house like this? What kind of friend are you?"
"You jerk!" Lala cried, her voice cracking with watery frustration. She flung a small device at him before spinning around sharply, her wings flaring open as she shot into the air, flying away with her head hung low.
Clark blinked, catching the object with ease. He held it up, staring curiously at the worm-like mechanism wriggling faintly in his palm. "Wait… did she just throw a bug at me?"
Momo shook her head, clearly unamused, her lips pressed into a flat line. "Come on, dude. That wasn't cool."
Clark tilted his head in confusion. "What? What did I do?"
Rolling her eyes, Momo crossed her arms and sighed. "You really don't get it, do you? Lala looks up to you. She dressed like that because she wanted to be like you. She wanted your approval, and the first thing you did was laugh in her face."
Clark raised a brow, half-defensive. "Was I wrong, though? I mean, she did look ridiculous."
Momo pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling heavily. "That doesn't mean you had to say it out loud. That 'bug' she threw at you? It was her way of showing appreciation. It wasn't just some toy—she made it for you."
Clark glanced down at the device again, holding it while at the same time examining it. His earlier amusement melted into something closer to confusion. He listened carefully as Momo went on to explain what the strange gadget was and what it could do.
When she finished, Clark raised an impressed brow. "Huh… that's actually… pretty incredible." He scratched at his temple, exhaling slowly in frustration before turning his gaze toward the distance where Lala had flown.
"Can I leave her to you while I finish up on my end?" he asked, tone softer now. "I'll talk to her later—properly—once I'm done here."
Momo gave a small wave of her hand, her stern expression easing a little. "Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, I'll look after her. Now go on—finish being Superman."
Clark's lips curved into a faint, appreciative smile. "Thanks." He muttered the word sincerely before lifting off once again, streaking back toward the city.
"Sol, give me a thorough analysis of Lala's invention," he instructed.
"Scanning…" Sol's mechanical voice hummed for a moment before answering. "The device is exactly as Miss Momo described. Its purpose is to consume rubble, analyze the atomic structure of what it once was, and then reconstruct it by replicating the stored molecular memory. The process is complex, but highly efficient. Honestly, Kal-El, this technology is extremely sophisticated—even by Kryptonian standards."
Clark's eyes widened slightly at the praise, and though he said nothing, his mind lingered on Lala and her retreating, tearful face.
"Knowing how Lala's tech usually works… what's the downside to this thing? How will it go out of control if it does?" Clark asked, his voice low and pensive as he turned the worm-like device over in his palm.
There was a brief pause before Sol responded, almost as though the AI were hesitant. "I am uncertain if this qualifies as a true downside, Master Kal-El… but the unit is prone to becoming very… constipated."
Clark blinked, brows furrowing. "Excuse me?"
"Yes. Its internal processors—what might be considered its 'bowels'—can sometimes fail to expel reconstructed material. It requires… encouragement to finish 'pushing' the product out." Sol's tone had taken on a strangely amused cadence, as though enjoying the explanation.
Clark shut his eyes and groaned inwardly, running a hand down his face. 'You've got to be shitting me… oh God, now it even sounds like I'm trying to make a terrible pun.'
"Sol," he muttered through clenched teeth, his jaw twitching, "fix it."
"As I mentioned, this is highly sophisticated technology," Sol replied, calm and efficient once again. "It will take me several seconds to apply an optimal correction."
Clark sighed as he felt a tug at his shoulders. The fabric of his cape began to shrink, nanobots peeling away in a steady stream before flowing down his arm like liquid metal. They coated the pink worm in crimson armor, circuitry flaring briefly as Sol's flames of golden-red energy danced across its body, weaving adjustments in real time.
By the time Clark descended back into the ruined city, the glow of molten fire still haloed the device in his hand. The light illuminated his face as he landed squarely in front of Samuel and Lois Lane, who were both crouched among the debris, cameras dangling from their necks.
Clark exhaled sharply, exasperation evident. "What are you two still doing here? This place isn't safe!"
Samuel opened his mouth, but Lois beat him to it, tilting her head as though the answer were the most obvious thing in the world. "We're getting pictures. You know—journalism." She gestured toward the bulky camera they had pulled from their car, its lens gleaming in the fading light.
Her sharp eyes flicked down to the glowing sphere in his hands, curiosity sparking. "And what exactly is that? What do you plan to do with it?"
Before Clark could answer, Sol's voice hummed in his ear. "Modifications complete. The worm has been stabilized." The flames died away, retreating into Clark's nanotech suit until only the pale-pink device remained in his palm. It wriggled slightly, its glossy eyes flickering to life.
Clark pressed down on the small ridge of its forehead, activating it. The moment its systems whirred to life, the worm darted from his hand at blinding speed, drilling into the shattered ground. Within seconds it disappeared beneath the rubble, the faint vibrations of its tunneling the only sign of its presence.
"It's going to help me rebuild the city," Clark said matter-of-factly, dusting his hands off as though to punctuate the statement. His tone softened but carried authority. "Which means you two need to evacuate. Now. If you stay, you'll just get in the way."
Lois frowned, clearly reluctant—her instincts screaming to witness history in action—but the firmness in his gaze left her no room for debate. With an annoyed sigh, she and Samuel gave in, they got inside their car, Clark scooped them up and blurred away from the epicenter.
He set them down near the broken remains of the barrier wall where officers had cordoned off the area. The police glared at the reporters, some muttering under their breath, but Clark raised a hand to quell them.
"Please excuse their behavior," he said, voice steady but firm. "They had their reasons for being there. In fact, they were a major factor in helping me draw the Kaiju away in the first place."
Before more questions could come, Clark launched back into the air, climbing rapidly until the city below shrank into a fractured map of smoke and ruin. His eyes scanned downward, catching glimpses of the worm device already expanding as it devoured debris, reshaping itself to accommodate the mass it consumed.
"Sol," Clark said quietly, eyes narrowing, "patch me through to the General."
"Contacting now…" Sol affirmed.
There was a crackle, then a deep voice rumbled through his comms. "Superman. I take it you are the one responsible for interfering with our strike on the beast."
Clark rolled his eyes, floating against the wind with his arms crossed. "Hello to you too, General. And yes—I stopped your attack. The battle was already over. The Kaiju came for one thing: its young, which had been taken from it. Once its offspring was returned, it stopped attacking and retreated back into the ocean."
The silence on the other end was heavy, tense. Clark could almost feel the weight of the General's disapproval pressing through the static.
"That wasn't your call to make, Kal-El," the General said, his voice hardening like steel. "The threat still remains in our ocean. It's a danger to our people, a danger that we could have ended once and for all. You had no right to interfere."
Clark's expression softened, though his tone remained firm. "I'm sorry, General. I don't mean to undermine your authority, but I wouldn't have let you kill it. What you call a threat was simply a mother searching for her child. To end her life for such a reason would have been unnecessarily cruel and, more importantly, profoundly unjust." He paused, then leaned forward slightly, making sure the General caught every word. "I understand your fear of the danger it represents. I know you worry about the people, about what might happen if we let it live. But I assure you—it will not be a problem."
The General's eyes narrowed. "And how can you possibly be so sure?"
Clark took in a slow breath, his eyes flicking briefly toward the horizon where the creature rested. "From the readings I've gathered, this being has lived for thousands of years… perhaps even millions. Yet in all that time, humanity has never once been aware of its existence. Do you know why that is, General? Because it doesn't attack unless it's provoked. Left to itself, it hides, it slumbers, it survives quietly beneath our feet. That is its nature. Unless we give it reason to lash out, it will continue to keep to itself. There is no need for unnecessary violence—not when peace is a viable option."
The General let out a sharp exhale, almost a growl, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. "You speak of peace, but tell me, Kal-El—But what about peace for our people? Look around you. The town is destroyed—reduced to rubble and dust. Hundreds of men, women, and children will be left without homes. Thousands displaced. Millions of yen will be required to rebuild what was lost. Who answers for that?"
Clark's lips curved into a small, confident smile. "Oh, you don't have to worry about that, General. I'm already handling it. The damages are being repaired as we speak. Within moments, the town will stand again—good as new."
As if on cue, a thunderous rumble drew their eyes. The colossal worm reemerged, its massive body writhing as it burrowed through the ruined earth. Its gigantic maw opened wide, swallowing chunks of shattered buildings and entire streets, chewing through stone and steel as though it were little more than dry bread. Clark, almost sheepish, rubbed the back of his neck and forced a grin.
"You won't have to worry about property damage or the people being left without homes. Everything is being… taken care of." His words faltered slightly as the worm continued chomping its way across the ruins. "And when it's all over, everyone gets a happy ending."
The General crossed his arms, his brow furrowed, clearly unconvinced. "We'll see about that in the end," he muttered with a skeptical scoff.
"Oh—by the way," Clark added suddenly, almost too casually. "I was wondering if you might extend some forgiveness for the, ah, so-called crimes committed by the family of Mrs. Lane?"
"Excuse me?!" a voice shrieked. "Crimes?! What crimes?! What kind of trouble did those two get themselves into this time?!" Mrs. Lane's frantic voice cut in, clearly having overheard the conversation between Clark and the General. Her words tumbled out in frantic desperation, her voice rising an octave higher with each syllable.
Meanwhile, outside the command tent, civilians gathered, their eyes widening in collective horror. The worm was now enormous—towering higher than skyscrapers. It finished its feast and sat comfortably in what had once been the heart of the town, curled up inside a massive crater. Its lips smacked together audibly, the sound carrying for miles, as though savoring its meal.
From the air, it looked like a colossal serpent nesting in the hollow where a city once stood. Then, to everyone's shock, it let out an ear-splitting BUUUUUURP that sent tremors through the ground, rattling nearby towns and even distant cities.
For a long moment, silence followed. People stared, too stunned to process what they were seeing. Then the worm's tail shot upward, pointing at the sky. Its face scrunched in effort, body trembling as if straining with tremendous force. A few onlookers realized what was about to happen and gawked in horrified disbelief.
PTHOOOOOO!!
The creature expelled the rebuilt town from its backside with the force of a cannon. Streets, houses, and buildings rose into the sky as if launched by a titanic geyser.
The worm sighed in relief and immediately began to deflate like a balloon, shrinking in size, curling into itself as though ready for a millennium of slumber.
Clark, face in his hands, muttered in pure embarrassment, "I really need to have a talk with Lala…"
"Kal-El—the town," Sol's voice reminded him dryly in his ear.
"I know, I know," Clark sighed, before shooting into the air like a streak of light.
Above, Superman braced himself beneath the colossal dirt mound, his aura expanding into a brilliant field of energy that enveloped the entire mass. Slowly, steadily, he spread his arms wide, supporting the weight of an entire town upon his shoulders.
Down below, the people gazed in awe, their fear melting into wonder. Superman floated there, suspended against the burning light of the sun, the silhouette of Earth and steel cradled in his hands.
Lois, heart racing, raised her camera. Through her lens, Superman's figure was framed perfectly—arms spread, shoulders unbending, the sun blazing behind him like a halo. She clicked the shutter.
And somewhere in the distance, the faint notes of a theme song began to play.
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