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[neondreamscapes]

Smallville: A Different path book 2

Chapter 29 - part 3

Far away in the Arctic, the Fortress of Solitude glowed beneath the frozen night while Lex Luthor walked through its crystalline corridors like a man claiming conquered territory. The demolition crews moved throughout the structure attaching explosives carefully to major support points while cables stretched across the glowing alien architecture. One technician approached Lex cautiously. “Everything’s on schedule, sir.” Lex turned slightly. “How long?” “Another hour and the entire structure will be fully rigged.” Lex smiled faintly. “Excellent.” The scientist moved off again while Lex continued deeper into the Fortress carrying a portable generator unit beside several containers of kryptonite. The green mineral glowed ominously against the pale blue crystal walls. Lex carefully placed fragments of kryptonite at strategic points throughout the structure. Then activated the generator. Electrical current surged outward through the surrounding Kryptonian crystal formations. For a moment— Nothing happened. Then the walls began to pulse. The surrounding crystals slowly started changing. Growing. Expanding outward in jagged formations. Only now— Green. Corrupted. Kryptonite crystal spread through sections of the Fortress like a living infection. Lex watched it happen with open fascination and hatred burning together behind his eyes. The glow reflected across his face sinisterly while more radioactive crystal structures clawed outward from the walls around him. A slow smile crept across his expression. “It won’t be long now, Clark,” he said quietly. And the menace in his voice echoed coldly throughout the Fortress of Solitude.

Back in Chloe’s apartment, the emotional dam finally burst completely. Chloe could barely look at Clark anymore through the tears. “I’m so, so sorry,” she cried again, her voice raw and broken. “Clark, I—” Clark immediately pulled her into another hug before she could spiral further. “No,” he said softly but firmly. “You Don’t need to apologize.” Chloe shook against him. “You don’t understand—” “Yes, I do.” Clark leaned back enough to look at her properly again. “This is Lex. He’s manipulative. Calculated. He knows exactly how to break people down.” His expression darkened briefly thinking about what she endured. “I should’ve been there. You were alone. Afraid. Dealing with Jimmy getting hurt on top of everything else.” Chloe wiped frantically at her eyes. “That’s not an excuse,” she insisted shakily. “I never should’ve broken.” Her voice cracked again immediately. “But they just kept pushing and pushing and I was so tired and Jimmy was in the hospital and—” She completely lost composure again. Clark hugged her tightly once more. And honestly? Part of him blamed himself far more than he blamed her. Because while Chloe was being tortured and falling apart, he had been on a beach trying to enjoy peace. The thought twisted painfully inside him. “I understand,” he said quietly. Chloe looked up at him suddenly through tears. “You don’t hate me?” The question hit Clark hard. He pulled back enough to meet her eyes fully. “Chloe,” he said gently, “I could never hate you.” That only made her cry harder. “I don’t believe you,” she whispered brokenly. “I’m a horrible friend.” Clark reached up carefully holding both sides of her face, making sure she looked directly at him. “Listen to me.” His voice carried complete sincerity now. “I could never hate you. I mean that.” Chloe’s breathing slowly steadied just enough to hear him. “You are not the one at fault here.” Something about the way he said it finally broke through the panic and guilt spiraling inside her. Not dramatically. Not instantly. But enough. Enough for the tension in her shoulders to loosen slightly. Enough for her breathing to calm. Enough for her to finally believe maybe she wasn’t beyond forgiveness. Clark slowly leaned back against the couch afterward, though concern began creeping across his expression again. His thoughts were already turning elsewhere now. Toward Lex. Toward the Fortress. Toward one particular detail bothering him deeply. “How did he get his memory back?” Clark muttered quietly to himself. Chloe looked over weakly. “What?” Clark stared ahead thinking hard. “What John did to him should’ve been permanent.” Then suddenly— Clark froze. A sharp ringing exploded through his ears. He stumbled violently off the couch gripping the side of his head. “Clark!” Chloe immediately reached toward him in panic. “Are you okay?!” Clark staggered again trying to steady himself while the noise intensified inside his mind like a scream echoing directly through his skull. “No…” he managed through clenched teeth. “It’s the Fortress.” Chloe’s face immediately drained of color. Her hand flew over her mouth in horror. Lex. This was happening because of Lex. Because of her.

Again. Clark stumbled across the apartment another step trying to focus through the overwhelming psychic-like resonance tearing through him. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He could feel it. “I have to go,” he said urgently. Chloe’s panic surged again. “But if he’s at the Fortress how are you going to get there? He probably stole the key!” Clark steadied himself enough to look back at her. “I don’t need it anymore.” Then his expression sharpened with determination. “I can fly. I’ll be there in less than two minutes.” And before Chloe could even process the statement— Clark vanished. The apartment windows rattled violently from the force of his takeoff. Silence flooded the room afterward. Chloe blinked several times in stunned disbelief. “…Fly?” Her mind struggled to even process what he had just said. Thirty-five hundred miles. Less than two minutes. Clark’s powers had steadily evolved over the years as he grew older and stronger beneath Earth’s yellow sun. But this— This was something else entirely.

Clark crashed down into the Fortress of Solitude hard enough to crack the crystalline floor beneath his boots. The moment he straightened up, the ringing in his ears intensified violently. The Fortress looked wrong. Corrupted. Green light pulsed through once-pristine Kryptonian architecture like a spreading disease. Massive jagged kryptonite crystals protruded from walls, ceilings, and pillars, infecting the elegant white structure with radioactive veins of glowing emerald. Clark immediately staggered slightly from the radiation flooding every inch of the chamber. “Lex…” he breathed weakly. Farther ahead, standing among the green crystal growth like a king inside a poisoned cathedral, Lex slowly turned toward him. And smiled. “Clark,” he said warmly, almost affectionately. “It’s so nice to see you again.” Clark pushed through the pain trying to steady himself. “Give it up, Lex. It’s over.” Every breath already felt heavier. His vision blurred faintly at the edges. “You’re going to jail,” Clark continued, forcing strength into his voice. “And this time I’ll personally make sure you stay there no matter what connections you have.” Lex actually laughed softly at that. Then Clark suddenly stumbled hard to one knee. The kryptonite saturation inside the Fortress was overwhelming. “What’s…” Clark grimaced, gripping the floor beneath him. “What’s happening to me?" “Oh that?” Lex replied casually while gesturing around the chamber. “I redecorated.” Clark looked up weakly. “I hope you like it. The white aesthetic really wasn’t doing it for me anymore. Needed a little touch of green.” Clark’s eyes widened realizing the full scale of what Lex had done. Kryptonite crystals had spread throughout the Fortress entirely. Walls. Columns. The very floor itself. The Fortress was poisoning him. “What… what did you do?” Clark coughed. Lex slowly walked closer. “I learned how your crystal technology worked, Clark.” There was genuine wonder in Lex’s voice beneath the hatred. “And once I understood that these structures adapted to surrounding minerals…” His grin widened darkly. “Well. The rest was simple.” Clark’s strength continued fading rapidly. “I made your Fortress grow kryptonite for me.” Lex spread his arms slightly toward the glowing chamber. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” “Lex…” Clark struggled to rise again. “Stop this.” Immediately Lex’s expression darkened. “No.” His voice cracked sharply through the Fortress. “You don’t get to speak.” Years of rage suddenly erupted outward from him all at once. “You had your alien friend erase my memory and you thought I would just let that go?!” Clark steadied himself against one of the crystal pillars breathing heavily now. “Honestly, Clark,” Lex snarled, “did you truly believe I wouldn’t figure out how to get my memories back? That I wouldn’t come for you afterward?” Clark looked at him sadly through the pain. “The thought crossed my mind.” Lex’s eyes hardened immediately. “Then you’re more foolish than I thought.” His voice lowered now. More personal. More wounded. “So long as I live, I will always be your worst nightmare. That darkness clawing at you every time you close your eyes.” The hatred burning behind Lex’s expression now almost felt tragic. “Because there is nobody on this planet I hate more than you.” Clark swallowed hard. “You disgust me. The very thought of you makes me ill.” Despite everything, Clark still looked more saddened than angry. “Lex… all I ever tried to do was help you. Save you from your poor choices.” “That’s not your decision to make!” The Fortress shook faintly from the force of Lex’s outburst. “How could you do it, Clark?” he demanded. “How could you let him erase my memories of you?” Clark’s voice weakened further. “I thought… if you forgot… maybe you could’ve had a happy life free of obsession.”

For a brief second something almost vulnerable crossed Lex’s face. Then bitterness swallowed it whole. “Oh, how little you know me.” Lex laughed softly to himself, but there was pain underneath it now. “And after all this time I thought you understood.” He paced slowly through the green glow surrounding them. “My obsession is what drives me to greatness.” His voice became quieter. More honest.

“Without it…” Lex shook his head faintly. “I was empty.” Clark looked at him carefully. “Just another corporate CEO,” Lex continued bitterly. “Drowning in deadlines. Appeasing investors. Watching my empire slowly crumble around me while I forgot who I was.” His eyes lifted toward Clark again. “I was still intelligent. Still capable. But the drive…” He pressed a hand lightly against his chest. “That fire was gone.” Then a twisted smile formed again. “You give me purpose, Clark.” Clark stared at him in disbelief. “So you’re going to kill me? Kill the thing giving your life purpose?” Lex’s smile slowly faded. “I’m going to kill both of us.” “You’re insane.” “Maybe.”

Lex almost sounded relieved admitting it. “But you’re dangerous.” He stepped closer again. “I saw the reports. The Guardian stealing things. Letting people die. Recklessly endangering lives.” Clark immediately shook his head weakly. “That wasn’t me.” “I have to save this planet from you.” Lex’s eyes gleamed now with complete conviction. “It’s my destiny. Those caves showed it years ago.” Clark grimaced through another wave of pain. “Lex… those are paintings. They don’t mean anything.” “They mean everything.” “I’m not a bad person. I’ve saved more people than I can count.” Lex’s face twisted bitterly. “How am I supposed to believe that when you couldn’t even save me?” The words hung heavily between them. Clark looked genuinely heartbroken hearing it. “Lex… you never wanted to be saved.” Lex’s jaw tightened sharply. “I can’t save you from yourself.” “Oh really?” Lex snapped back immediately. “You failed to save your father too.” Clark visibly flinched. “And Jimmy Olsen.” Lex smirked coldly. “Poor Chloe was absolutely devastated over that one.” Clark’s eyes narrowed slightly now. “The kid’ll probably die any day now.” “I can’t be everywhere at once, Lex!” Clark shouted back, emotion finally breaking through. “And I can’t stop every illness or every tragedy! I’m not a—” He stopped himself. But Lex smiled darkly anyway. “There it is.” Clark breathed heavily. “That right there is why I hate you so much.” Lex pointed directly at him now. “You choose who lives and who dies. Whether intentionally or simply through your limitations doesn’t matter.” His voice lowered almost to a whisper. “People worship you as a savior while others suffer because you weren’t there in time.” Clark stared at him helplessly. “Like it or not, Clark… you made me into what I am.” Lex slowly lifted the detonator into view. “You’re responsible for what happens today. Not me.” Clark’s eyes widened slightly. “Lex…” “And once I press this button,” Lex continued, “this Fortress explodes and we both become nothing more than a memory.” “You’re delusional,” Clark whispered weakly. “Why would you want to kill yourself?” Lex’s expression finally cracked completely then. Not into rage. Into grief. Into emptiness. “Because it has to end with us, Clark.” His voice almost trembled. “Don’t you understand? It always had to end with us.” Years of pain sat behind his eyes now. “You ruined my life.” Clark shook his head weakly. “You stripped away my ambition. My purpose. I woke up to my empire collapsing around me.” “I didn’t do that.” Lex stepped forward aggressively. “Didn’t you?” His eyes burned now. “Weren’t you the one who released that monster?” Clark looked confused through the pain. “Who told you that?” Lex smiled faintly. “I have my sources.” Of course he did. Clark’s breathing became ragged now. The kryptonite poisoning was becoming unbearable. “You’re too dangerous for this planet,” Lex whispered. “And I’m the real hero of this story.” Slowly— Lex’s thumb moved toward the detonator. Clark weakly reached toward him. “Please…” Lex looked at him almost sadly. “Look on the bright side, Clark. If I’m truly the villain you always believed I was…” His thumb pressed against the switch. “Then I’ll die too.” “NO—!” Clark lunged desperately forward. Too late. Lex pressed the button. And instantly— Massive explosions erupted throughout the Fortress of Solitude. The entire structure began collapsing inward around them in a violent storm of shattered crystal, green radiation, fire, and ice.

[neondreamscapes]

Smallville: A Different path book 2

Chapter 29 - part 2

Back at the Kent farm, Lana received an envelope of her own later that afternoon. At first she assumed it was another wedding card or delayed congratulations from someone who missed the ceremony. But the moment she opened it, her eyes widened. “Oh my goodness…” Clark looked up immediately from the living room hearing the shock in her voice. “What?” Lana stared at the papers another second before laughing almost disbelievingly. “Clark—come here.” Clark walked into the kitchen wiping his hands off on a towel after helping outside again. “What is it?” Lana handed him the paperwork. Clark scanned the first page quickly. Then blinked. Then read it again slower. Confirmation of loan payment in full. The farm. Completely paid off. No remaining debt. No fear of losing pieces of the property that had been in his family for generations. Clark looked genuinely stunned. Lana pulled another sheet from the envelope. A handwritten letter. She read aloud smiling already before even finishing it. “I hope this makes up for me missing the wedding.” Clark immediately laughed quietly to himself. “Oliver…” Lana continued. “Stay well, you two.” For a moment Clark just stood there staring at the paperwork in silence. The weight that quietly sat on both of them since returning home suddenly lifted all at once. Lana looked at him softly. “We’re okay.” Clark exhaled slowly almost like he hadn’t fully breathed in weeks. The farm was safe. Their home was safe. Their future suddenly felt a little more stable again. Clark smiled warmly, shaking his head slightly. “That’s Oliver,” he said. “He’s the best.” Lana laughed softly. “You really have strange billionaire friends.” Clark wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. “You love my strange billionaire friends.” Lana smirked. “…Some more than others.” Clark grinned before kissing her gently, while late afternoon sunlight spilled warmly through the kitchen windows around them. And for just a little while longer— The world still felt peaceful. High above the Atlantic, Lex Luthor’s private jet cut through heavy gray clouds on a direct course toward the Arctic. Inside the aircraft, the atmosphere felt cold even beyond the temperature outside. Mercy sat reviewing equipment manifests while several demolition experts checked detonators, blasting caps, and the massive quantities of TNT secured within the cargo section. Lead-lined containers of kryptonite sat strapped down nearby. Lex remained seated near the front of the cabin staring silently out the window. The Fortress. Clark’s sanctuary. His secret. Soon it would belong to no one.

The following morning sunlight spilled warmly across the Kent farm while Clark stood out on the porch speaking with Oliver through a secure communicator. There was a slight delay between responses, the signal bouncing all the way to Oliver’s satellite orbiting high above Earth. Clark leaned lightly against one of the porch beams smiling. “You really didn’t have to do that, you know.” Oliver’s voice crackled faintly through the speaker. “Please. Compared to the amount of times you’ve saved my life, paying off a farm loan feels pretty cheap.” Clark laughed quietly. “It was still unexpected.” “Well honestly,” Oliver admitted, “if I knew how bad things were back then I would’ve helped sooner.” Clark’s expression softened at that. The morning breeze rolled through the fields around him while he looked out across the property his family nearly lost. “Our parents built this place,” Clark said quietly. “Losing it would’ve… I don’t know.” “I get it,” Oliver replied. And he did. More than most people realized. Clark changed the subject slightly. “So what now?” Oliver leaned back somewhere aboard the satellite. “Well… the Justice League’s officially operational now.” Clark smiled hearing the name actually spoken out loud. Oliver continued. “We’ve got people positioned across the country already. The goal is bigger than Metropolis. Bigger than one city.” His tone sharpened slightly with purpose. “There’s too much happening now. Metahumans. Alien threats. Organized crime networks evolving with advanced tech. We need coordinated responses.” Clark nodded thoughtfully. “It’s a worthy ambition.” “I think so too.” A small pause passed before Clark spoke again. “And honestly… I’m glad you’re doing it.” Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Clark smiled faintly toward the fields. “Because I’d kinda like to settle down a little.” There was warmth in his voice saying it now. Not guilt. Not uncertainty. Just honesty. Oliver understood immediately. “And nobody deserves that more than you.” Clark looked down thoughtfully. After everything… The losses. The responsibility. The battles. Maybe he did deserve some peace. At least for awhile. Oliver’s voice softened slightly. “Enjoy it while you can, Smallville.” Clark smirked. “That sounds threatening.” “With our lives? It’s realistic.” Clark laughed again. The call ended warmly after that. For a brief moment things actually felt normal. Then Clark finally took the time to sit down and go through the backlog of messages on his phone from the honeymoon. Most were harmless. Wedding congratulations. Perry sending blurry pictures. Pete complaining about airport food. But then Clark’s expression slowly changed. Chloe. Missed calls. Text after text after text. Most about Jimmy. Some short. Some frantic. Some barely coherent. Clark frowned immediately and called her. Straight to voicemail. He tried again. Nothing. A bad feeling settled quietly into his chest. Clark walked back into the kitchen where Lana was organizing ingredients for dinner. “Everything okay?” she asked immediately noticing his expression. “I don’t know.” Clark held the phone slightly. “Chloe sent a lot of messages while we were gone. About Jimmy.” Lana’s face softened. “She still hasn’t answered you?” Clark shook his head. “She missed the wedding too.” That alone felt wrong. Chloe would never willingly miss something like that. “I’m gonna go check on her.” Lana nodded gently. “You want me to come?” Clark shook his head. “I think she might just need a friend right now.” Lana stepped closer and fixed part of his collar absentmindedly. “You coming back for supper?” Clark smiled softly. “Should be.” He kissed her gently before stepping outside. Then vanished in a blur.

Moments later Clark arrived at the Isis Foundation. Empty. No Chloe. No activity. That uneasy feeling only deepened. So he headed toward her apartment next.

Inside, Chloe sat on the floor beside the couch barely holding herself together. The knife trembled weakly against her wrist while tears streamed endlessly down her face. She hated herself for even considering it. But she also couldn’t stop thinking maybe everyone would be safer if she disappeared before Lex destroyed Clark completely. Then suddenly— A knock at the door. Chloe gasped sharply and dropped the knife instantly onto the carpet. Her breathing became erratic. For a second she just stared toward the door frozen. Another knock came. Chloe wiped frantically at her face before cautiously moving toward the peephole. The second she saw Clark standing outside her entire expression shattered again. “Oh goodness…” Panic flooded through her. “I can’t…” Another knock. Softer this time. “Chloe?” She backed away from the door immediately. He couldn’t see her like this. But then reality hit her. X-ray vision. If she ignored him he would know. He would see her sitting there crying beside a knife. Chloe grabbed a towel quickly and wiped at her face as best she could while trying desperately to steady her breathing. Then finally— She opened the door. Clark’s expression changed instantly seeing her. The dark circles beneath her eyes. The alcohol bottles visible behind her. The way she looked like she hadn’t slept properly in days. Concern hit him hard immediately. “Chloe…” His voice softened. “Are you okay?” She tried forcing a laugh. “Oh you know me,” she muttered weakly. “Just… lounging around.” Nothing about it landed. Clark stepped slightly closer. “I’ve been trying to reach you.” “Yeah well…” Chloe shrugged awkwardly. “Phones are overrated.” Clark could see right through the deflection. And honestly? That scared him more. He looked at her carefully. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when Jimmy got hurt.” Chloe immediately looked away. Clark continued gently. “I’m actually planning on going to see him next.” The words visibly broke something inside her. Because if Clark walked into that hospital still trusting her… Still believing in her… And then later discovered what she had told Lex— Chloe didn’t think she could survive it. Suddenly, desperately, she rushed forward and threw her arms around him. Clark stumbled slightly in surprise before immediately holding her upright. “Whoa—” “Don’t go,” Chloe whispered frantically. Her fingers clutched tightly into the back of his shirt while her eyes darted anxiously across the room. “Please… just… not right now.” Clark gently pulled Chloe back just enough to look at her properly. And the second he really did— His concern deepened immediately. She looked exhausted in a way that went beyond simply being tired. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen from crying, dark circles sitting heavily beneath them. Her hands trembled slightly. Her apartment smelled faintly of alcohol and stale air. “Chloe…” His voice softened. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.” She tried looking away again but Clark carefully kept his hands on her shoulders. “And you’re really nervous.” Not just upset. Terrified. Clark studied her for another moment before speaking gently. “Come on. Let’s sit down.” Chloe hesitated. Like part of her wanted to run. But eventually she nodded weakly and let him guide her toward the couch. They sat together in the dim apartment while silence settled between them for a few long seconds. Clark looked around again at the bottles, the drawn curtains, the complete state of collapse surrounding her. Then back at her. “You look terrible,” he admitted quietly. “Is Jimmy’s condition really this bad?” Chloe bit hard against her lip immediately. Her eyes lowered toward the floor. She didn’t answer. That frightened Clark more than almost anything else she could’ve said. “Chloe.” His voice remained calm. Gentle. “Whatever it is… I’m here for you. You know that.” And somehow that made it worse. Because he still trusted her. Still looked at her like she was one of the people closest to him in the world.

Chloe’s composure finally shattered completely. She broke into tears so suddenly she nearly folded forward into herself. “I did something horrible,” she cried. Clark’s expression immediately tightened with concern. “What are you talking about?” Chloe covered her face with both hands trying desperately to stop crying long enough to speak. But once the words started coming— They wouldn’t stop. And piece by piece she told him everything. The kidnapping. Mercy. The interrogations. The sleep deprivation. Lex regaining his memories. The questions about Clark. The Fortress. The key. Every awful detail spilled out between sobs and broken breaths while Clark sat completely still beside her listening. Not interrupting. Not reacting at first. Just listening. Then finally— Chloe looked at him through tears completely broken. “I tried not to tell them,” she whispered shakily. “I really did.” Clark stared ahead silently now. His jaw tightened slightly. Not in anger toward her. Toward Lex. Toward himself. Toward the fact Chloe had suffered through all of this alone while he was away trying to enjoy peace for the first time in years. “I thought if I just held out longer maybe…” Chloe’s voice cracked again. “But I was so tired Clark…” Clark slowly looked over at her again. And what Chloe expected to see was disappointment. Maybe even betrayal. Instead Clark gently pulled her into another hug. Chloe froze completely. “You were tortured,” Clark said quietly. “I still told him.” “They broke you down.” “I failed you.” Clark shook his head immediately. “No.” His voice carried more certainty now. “This is Lex Chloe” “Lex did this, you have nothing to feel ashamed about” Chloe cried harder against him hearing that. Because somehow forgiveness hurt more than anger would have. Clark stared silently across the apartment while his thoughts raced now toward the Fortress. Toward Lex. Toward what he might already be doing there. And suddenly that uneasy feeling in his chest turned much darker.

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[neondreamscapes]

Smallville: A Different path book 2

Chapter 29 Retribution - part 1

Five days had passed since Clark and Lana returned home from Mexico. The Kent farm had slowly settled back into its familiar rhythms again. Morning sunlight through the kitchen windows. The sound of wind rolling through the fields. Clark working outside fixing little things around the property while Lana moved through the house bringing warmth and life back into rooms that had spent too long carrying tension and uncertainty. But even with the comfort of home surrounding them, the honeymoon still lingered in Lana’s mind like a beautiful dream she wasn’t quite ready to wake up from. Mexico had felt removed from reality. Like the rest of the world couldn’t reach them there. No disasters. No government conspiracies. No monsters. Just Clark. Just love. Just peace. Back home though, reality slowly started creeping in around the edges again. Lana stood in the kitchen making grocery lists while occasionally glancing around the dining room counting chairs beneath her breath. Martha was coming. Pete too. Perry had practically invited himself twice already. Aunts. Uncles. Cousins. The family dinner they postponed after the wedding was only two days away now and Lana wanted everything perfect. She adjusted one of the chairs again before scribbling another item onto the grocery list. More potatoes. More wine. Definitely more dessert. Clark could eat enough for three people on his own when relaxed. A small smile crossed her face at the thought. Still, as she stood there planning and organizing, the fairytale feeling of the honeymoon slowly began fading beneath quieter realities. At some point the bank loan still had to be paid back. Their extension only lasted so long. Clark would eventually return to hero work more seriously too, even if he insisted it would only be part-time now. And life— Real life— Was never going to stay frozen in those beautiful honeymoon moments forever. Not with Clark. Not with the world they lived in. Lana leaned lightly against the kitchen counter for a moment staring down at the list in her hands. Part of her mind wandered toward old fears automatically. The fear that one day the chaos would consume everything again. That the dream of growing old peacefully together on the farm with children and normal mornings and quiet nights would eventually get swallowed by Clark’s responsibilities to the world. But then Lana shook her head gently at herself and smiled. “No,” she whispered softly. That was the old version of her talking. The girl who spent too many years afraid of things ending before they truly began. The truth was much simpler now. Whatever happened— Whatever life threw at them— She was okay. Because relationships weren’t fairytales. Not real ones anyway. Real love required work. Patience. Compromise. Sacrifice. And there wasn’t another person alive she would rather build that kind of life with than Clark Kent. Her husband. The love of her life. The thought still made warmth spread through her chest every single time. Behind her the back door opened and Clark stepped inside carrying dirt across his boots after working outside most of the morning. Lana looked up immediately. And just like that— All the anxiety faded again. Clark smiled seeing the scattered grocery lists. “Planning a military operation?” “Dinner preparation.” Clark glanced at the amount of notes covering the table. “…Those feel surprisingly similar.” Lana laughed softly while he walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. Clark kissed the side of her neck gently. “You okay?” Lana rested back against him comfortably. “Yeah.” And she meant it. Completely.

Elsewhere, far removed from the warmth of the Kent farm, Lex Luthor prepared for war. The massive private jet sat waiting on the runway beneath gray skies while armed personnel loaded equipment into the cargo hold under Mercy’s supervision. Large lead-lined containers carrying kryptonite were wheeled carefully aboard one by one. The remaining supply LuthorCorp still possessed. Enough to kill Superman several times over if properly utilized. Workers then began loading crates of TNT beside them. Several hundred pounds. Military grade. Lex watched everything from the bottom of the boarding ramp with cold focus etched across his face. The Arctic wind from the open runway whipped against his coat while Mercy approached beside him holding a tablet. “The demolition crews?” Lex asked without looking away from the aircraft. “They’re already mobilizing,” Mercy confirmed. “Should arrive by the end of the day.” Lex nodded once slowly. Good. His eyes drifted toward the lead-lined kryptonite containers again. Toward the stolen crystal secured inside a separate reinforced case. Toward the obsession that had consumed him completely. Clark Kent. The Fortress. Krypton. Everything was finally beginning to connect now. And after years of lies, manipulation, memory loss, humiliation, and betrayal— Lex intended to make sure Clark lost something too.

Chloe’s apartment had become almost unrecognizable. Curtains remained drawn shut even during the day, turning the entire place dim and gray while untouched dishes piled slowly in the sink and half-empty liquor bottles littered the coffee table and floor around her. The television played silently in the background purely to drown out the quiet. Chloe sat curled against the couch wrapped in an oversized sweater staring through blurred vision at photographs scattered across the table in front of her. Her and Jimmy. Laughing at work. Jimmy making ridiculous faces while she rolled her eyes beside him. The two of them at the Talon years ago. Another at Christmas. One from only a few months earlier where Jimmy had his arm around her while she leaned into him smiling in a way that felt impossible now. Happy. Normal. Alive. Chloe’s breathing shook unevenly as she picked one picture up with trembling fingers. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered brokenly toward it. Because part of her truly believed this was her fault too. Jimmy in a coma. Clark exposed. Lex hunting him again. Everywhere she looked lately it felt like people suffered because she failed them somehow. Another tear rolled down her face just as a sudden knock at the apartment door made her jump violently. Fear immediately flashed across her face. For a second she genuinely thought Lex had changed his mind. That Mercy had come back. Chloe stood slowly, wiping at her eyes while cautiously approaching the door. The apartment creaked softly beneath her steps. She looked through the peephole. Nothing. No one stood there. Hesitantly, Chloe unlocked the door and opened it slightly. A large envelope rested on the floor outside. Confused, she picked it up and slowly brought it inside. The moment she opened it her face crumpled all over again. Wedding photos. Clark and Lana smiling at the altar. Martha crying. Pete laughing holding the bouquet. Clark kissing Lana outside the church while sunlight wrapped around them both like something out of a dream. And tucked neatly inside— An invitation to the family dinner at the Kent farm. Clark’s handwriting across the front. We really hope you’ll come. Chloe’s hand immediately covered her mouth as emotion overwhelmed her again. “I can’t…” she whispered shakily. Her body folded inward while tears spilled freely down her face. “I just can’t…” Because looking at those pictures only made the guilt worse. They looked so happy. So hopeful. And Chloe knew something they didn’t. Lex was coming.

[neondreamscapes]

Smallville: A Different path book 2

chapter 28 - part 2

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away beneath warm Mexican skies, Clark and Lana spent their days trying to remember what normal happiness felt like. And slowly— They did. The honeymoon became everything they both needed without fully realizing it beforehand. Peaceful mornings sleeping in later than usual tangled together beneath sunlight spilling through open curtains. Long afternoons walking through the colorful streets of Puerto Vallarta hand in hand while music drifted from restaurants and ocean air rolled through the city. At night they wandered the beaches barefoot together listening to waves crash softly against the shore while lantern light reflected across the water. For the first time in what felt like forever, Clark wasn’t constantly listening for screams in the distance. Wasn’t watching the skies waiting for disaster. He was simply present. With her. And goodness did Lana notice the difference. The tension that normally lived quietly in his shoulders had started fading day by day. His smile came easier now. His laugh sounded lighter. More genuine. One evening they sat together at one of the best restaurants along the coast overlooking the ocean while warm candlelight flickered between them. Lana swirled wine around gently in her glass while Clark cautiously tried local tequila for the first time. His expression immediately shifted. “That’s… stronger than I expected.” Lana laughed hard enough to nearly spill her drink. “You have superhuman senses and that still caught you off guard?” Clark coughed once into his hand. “I think Bart used to drink this stuff like water.” That softened both of them slightly. Clark looked down at the glass quietly. “He loved Mexico.” Lana’s expression gentled. Without another word she lifted her glass slightly toward him. Clark mirrored the gesture. “To Bart.” “To Bart.” They drank quietly together. For a brief moment sadness lingered there between them. But not the crushing kind anymore. The softer kind. The kind tied to memory and love instead of fresh pain.

Later that night an unexpected power outage rolled across part of the resort. The lights flickered out completely while Lana relaxed against Clark inside the hotel jacuzzi overlooking the ocean. A few guests somewhere in the distance groaned in annoyance. Lana laughed softly. “Well… there goes the hot water.” Steam already started fading around them as the temperature slowly dropped. Clark glanced toward the water thoughtfully. “Hold on.” Lana raised an eyebrow curiously. A faint red glow reflected briefly across Clark’s eyes beneath the darkness and within seconds the water gradually warmed again. Lana blinked in surprise before laughing. “You are absolutely ridiculous.” Clark grinned smugly. “What? Efficient problem solving.” Lana dipped her hand into the water again. “No seriously… that’s actually kind of amazing.” She looked at him more thoughtfully now. “You didn’t overheat it at all.” Clark leaned back against the edge of the jacuzzi comfortably. “I’ve noticed my control’s gotten way better lately.” “How so?” Clark thought about it for a moment. “Ever since we came back from the alternate universes… everything feels sharper. Easier. More natural.” He flexed his fingers slightly beneath the water. “I can control my strength better than ever before. Heat vision too. I can be as strong or gentle as I need to be now without really thinking about it.” Lana slowly moved closer through the water. Her eyes never left his. “Is that a fact, Mr. Kent?” Clark smiled immediately. “Mmmhm.” Lana climbed gently onto his lap, water rolling softly around them while moonlight reflected across her skin. “Well,” she whispered against his lips, “I guess we should test just how controlled you are.” Clark kissed her before she even fully finished the sentence. Slow at first. Then deeper. More certain. Months of fear, exhaustion, longing, near-death experiences, and emotional weight seemed to melt away between them in the warmth of that moment. Hands wandered familiar places. Soft laughter mixed between kisses. The ocean crashed endlessly below the balcony while warm tropical air drifted around them and time itself seemed to slow. And for awhile— The rest of the world disappeared completely.

Four days into studying the Kryptonian crystal, Lex’s remaining scientists finally reached a conclusion. And even they seemed shaken by it. Inside one of the few operational laboratories left under Lex’s control, glowing monitors surrounded the crystal suspended in an electromagnetic containment field while researchers spoke in hushed excitement to one another. “It’s adapting,” one scientist said almost breathlessly while pulling up molecular scans. “The crystal absorbs characteristics from the environment around it and replicates them when exposed to sufficient electrical charge.” Another scientist adjusted his glasses staring at the readings in disbelief. “That shouldn’t even be possible.” The crystal pulsed softly inside the chamber. Growing. Changing. Evolving. “We introduced trace metallic particles into the testing field,” the lead scientist explained, “and the crystal began restructuring itself using the same molecular composition.” He looked toward Lex with visible amazement. “Mr. Luthor… these could revolutionize civilization.” Lex barely looked up from the crystal. The scientist continued anyway, unable to contain his excitement. “There would be no need for mining operations anymore. No dangerous excavation. No loss of life pursuing rare earth minerals. Materials could simply be… grown.” His voice filled with wonder. “Energy grids. Medicine. Technology. Construction. This changes everything.” But Lex wasn’t listening. Not really. The scientists saw possibility. Lex only saw opportunity. His eyes remained locked on the crystal while thoughts spiraled elsewhere entirely. Kryptonite. Clark. Revenge. The humiliation. The lies. The years stolen from him. The image of Clark standing above him as the Guardian replayed endlessly in his mind now that his memories had returned. And underneath all of it sat one overwhelming realization: Clark Kent had everything. Power. Love. Hope. The world’s admiration. While Lex had lost nearly everything trying to understand him. His jaw tightened slightly. “Continue testing,” Lex said coldly. The lead scientist hesitated. “Sir… are you hearing what I’m saying? The applications for this technology—” “Continue testing.” The room fell quiet immediately. Lex finally looked up toward them. And the obsession burning behind his eyes unsettled every scientist present. “I want to know,” he said quietly, “if those crystals can grow kryptonite.”

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away beneath warm Mexican skies, Clark and Lana spent their honeymoon trying things neither one of them were particularly good at. Salsa dancing being one of them. The open-air club overlooking the ocean was alive with music and laughter while couples moved gracefully across the dance floor beneath hanging lanterns. Clark and Lana did not move gracefully. Not even remotely. Clark stepped the wrong direction almost immediately while Lana burst into laughter trying to correct him. “You’re counting too much!” “I’m trying not to drop you!” “You’re not lifting a tractor, Clark, you’re dancing!” Clark spun her awkwardly at completely the wrong moment causing both of them to stumble sideways into another couple. “Sorry!” Clark laughed while Lana practically collapsed against him laughing too hard to stand. The nearby couple smiled knowingly and moved away. Clark looked down at her. “You are absolutely no help.” Lana grinned. “I’m helping emotionally.” “That’s not a thing.” “It is now.” By the end of the song they were both breathless from laughing more than dancing. Clark finally leaned closer near her ear. “You know,” he murmured warmly, “we could always go back to the hotel and play something a little more our speed.” Lana raised an eyebrow immediately. “Oh really?” Clark nodded seriously. “I think I can confidently say I’m better at that.” The look Lana gave him afterward nearly made him forget how to breathe.

Back at the hotel they spent the evening curled together listening to music drifting softly through the room while waves rolled endlessly outside their balcony doors. Lifehouse played quietly from the speakers while Clark and Lana teased each other through board games neither one was taking seriously anymore. Clark accused her of cheating twice. Lana accused him of secretly using super speed to move pieces. Clark claimed that was “an outrageous allegation.” Lana immediately caught him moving a card too fast to see. “You are unbelievable.” “You can’t prove anything.” “You literally blurred.” “Circumstantial evidence.” Lana laughed so hard she nearly fell off the couch. And Clark couldn’t stop staring at her afterward. Because moments like this still amazed him. The simplicity of them. No danger. No secrets. No walls between them anymore. Just warmth. Love. Peace. That final night together in Puerto Vallarta eventually grew quieter. Softer. They sat together outside on the balcony wrapped in each other beneath the warm night air while the moon reflected silver across the ocean below them. For awhile neither spoke. Then Lana looked upward toward the stars. “This kinda reminds me of the loft.” Clark smiled faintly. “Yeah.” So many nights. Talking beneath the Kansas sky. Dreaming about futures neither of them fully understood yet. Clark leaned back slightly in the chair remembering all the times he used to look at her and wonder if she could ever really love all of him. Not just the farmboy. Everything. Lana rested against his shoulder gently. “I think part of me always knew,” she admitted quietly. Clark looked over at her. “Knew what?” “That it was always going to be you.” Emotion softened his expression immediately. Lana smiled faintly toward the stars. “No matter where life took us… no matter who came into our lives… there was always this part of me that kept finding its way back to you.” Clark brushed his fingers gently through her hair. “I felt that too.” He paused briefly. “I think I knew for sure the first time I lost you.” Lana looked up at him softly. Clark swallowed slightly. “Because suddenly the world didn’t feel right anymore.” The ocean wind moved gently around them while silence settled comfortably again. Not empty silence. The kind shared between two people who understood each other deeply enough that words sometimes became unnecessary. Eventually Lana curled closer into him and Clark wrapped both arms around her while she rested against his chest. They held each other there for a long time beneath the moonlight. Melting together quietly. Far away from the danger and chaos waiting back home. Far away from the destruction. Far away from the future Lex Luthor was already beginning to plot against them in the dark.

[neondreamscapes]

Smallville: A Different path book 2

chapter 28 Honeymoon - part 1

Most of the wedding guests believed the limousine carried Clark and Lana directly toward their final destination of romance. They were wrong. The limo ride itself was mostly tradition. A beautiful little moment to wave goodbye, laugh through rolled down windows, and disappear from the church as husband and wife while everyone cheered behind them. But their real journey together began at the edge of town. The limousine finally rolled to a stop along a quiet stretch of road just outside Smallville where the open Kansas fields stretched endlessly beneath the fading evening sky. The driver stepped out awkwardly. “Uh… this is the place?” Clark smiled. “Sure is.” The driver looked confused but wisely decided not to ask further questions. Clark stepped out first and walked around to Lana’s side, opening the door for her with a softness that still made her heart flutter even after all these years. Mrs. Kent. The thought still barely felt real. Lana stepped out smiling, the late sunlight catching against her hair while the wind tugged gently at parts of her dress. For a moment neither one moved. They simply stood there looking at each other. Married. Actually married. Clark laughed quietly under his breath almost in disbelief. “What?” Lana asked warmly. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just keep thinking there’s no way this finally happened.” Lana stepped closer slipping her hands into his. “It happened.” The wedding rings caught the last golden light between them. Clark looked down at hers for a second before meeting her eyes again. “You ready, Mrs. Kent?” Lana smiled immediately. “Of course, Mr. Kent.” Clark wrapped one arm carefully around her waist and lifted her effortlessly from the ground. Lana laughed softly at the sudden motion, instinctively tightening her arms around his neck as the earth slowly fell away beneath them. Then Clark flew. Not out of desperation. Not out of fear. Not because he had to save someone. Just because he wanted to. And somehow that made this flight feel more meaningful than any before it. The Kansas fields stretched endlessly beneath them at first, bathed in fading orange sunlight while warm evening air rushed gently around their bodies. Clark kept his speed controlled, fast enough to cover incredible distance but slow enough that Lana could still fully take everything in. Below them the world unfolded like a living painting. Cities glittered in the distance. Rivers reflected fading sunlight like flowing gold.

Clouds rolled beneath them in soft drifting waves. Lana stared downward in complete amazement for awhile before eventually looking back toward Clark again. And honestly? That view was still her favorite. The wind moved through his hair while the fading sunlight caught across his face. His expression looked lighter than it had in weeks. Maybe even months. Peaceful. She realized then how rarely Clark truly relaxed. How rare it was for him to exist in a moment without carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. But right now— He wasn’t the Guardian. Wasn’t a symbol. Wasn’t humanity’s protector. He was simply her husband. And goodness did she love him for that. Clark caught her staring and smiled softly. “What?” Lana shook her head faintly. “Nothing.” But the way she looked at him said everything. They kissed briefly mid-flight, suspended high above the world while clouds drifted around them and the last warmth of the sunset stretched across the horizon. For those few hours, nothing else existed beyond the two of them and the impossible beauty surrounding them. Eventually the coastline of Puerto Vallarta came into view glowing beneath the deepening evening sky. The ocean shimmered dark blue beneath moonlight while warm lights from the city sparkled along the shoreline. Clark descended slowly toward their destination. A beautiful French château-style hotel nestled along the coast overlooking the water. Elegant. Romantic. Timeless.

The architecture instantly reminded Lana of the years she spent in France—the stonework, balconies, arched windows, and warm golden lighting all carrying that same old-world beauty she had fallen in love with overseas. Clark had agreed to it almost immediately when she showed him pictures. Partly because he knew how much she loved the style. And partly because compared to some luxury resorts, this place was surprisingly affordable while still being completely outside the United States. After the last few weeks of destruction, death, conspiracies, and near-apocalyptic terror, Clark wanted distance. Peace. Somewhere far enough away that for a little while he could finally breathe without listening for screams in the distance. They landed quietly on one of the upper balconies overlooking the ocean. Lana stepped out of Clark’s arms slowly, still smiling in disbelief from the flight itself. “Well,” she laughed softly while looking out toward the moonlit water below, “that definitely beats commercial airlines.” Clark grinned. “Little less turbulence too.” Lana turned back toward him, emotion softening her expression again. Then she stepped forward, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him deeply beneath the warm ocean air while waves crashed softly far below them. And for the first time in a very long time— Clark Kent truly felt at peace. Far away from the warmth of Mexico and the peace Clark and Lana were finally allowing themselves to feel, Lex Luthor stood alone inside the Fortress of Solitude. The Arctic wind howled outside the crystalline structure while pale blue light shimmered endlessly across the massive alien chamber around him. Even Lex— A man who had seen impossible things his entire life— Couldn’t hide his awe. He slowly turned in place taking in the endless towers of crystal stretching upward like frozen cathedrals crafted by beings beyond human understanding. “Astounding…” he whispered. His voice echoed through the Fortress hollowly. Beautiful. Ancient. Powerful. And now, finally, accessible. Lex walked deeper into the chamber, his footsteps crunching softly against the frozen crystalline floor. The air itself felt different here. Charged somehow. Like the Fortress still held traces of Clark’s presence in every glowing surface around him. But one thing was noticeably absent. Jor-El. The AI remained silent. Dark. Offline. Years ago, after Clark rejected his training and chose his own path instead of Krypton’s, Jor-El had made him a promise: No more guidance. No more assistance. No more interference. And apparently the Kryptonian intelligence intended to keep that promise even now. Lex almost smirked at the irony. “For all your advanced wisdom,” he muttered quietly while studying the alien architecture around him, “you left the front door surprisingly vulnerable.” His eyes eventually settled on one of the glowing crystals protruding from the walls. Slowly, carefully, Lex reached toward it. The moment his fingers touched the crystal, light pulsed faintly outward through the Fortress like distant veins awakening beneath ice. Lex hesitated only briefly before ripping it free. The chamber dimmed ever so slightly. The crystal glowed softly in his hand. Alien technology. Kryptonian knowledge. Power. Lex stared at it with quiet obsession burning behind his eyes. Then he turned and disappeared back into the storm, already thinking about the experiments waiting in one of the few remaining laboratories he still controlled.

[neondreamscapes]

Smallville: A Different path book 2

chapter 27 - part 2

But while hope and celebration slowly built around the wedding— Elsewhere, things were quietly falling apart. Chloe hadn’t returned to work at the Isis Foundation in days. The curtains in her apartment remained closed almost constantly. Lights off. Phone ignored. She sat wrapped in a blanket on the floor for hours at a time staring blankly into space while silence swallowed the room around her. Jimmy remained unconscious. No improvement. No change. Doctors kept repeating the same awful uncertainty. A week. A month. A year. Maybe never. And underneath that grief sat something even heavier. Guilt. Not just over Jimmy. Over Clark. Over what she had told Lex. Over the secrets she failed to protect. Several times Chloe found herself staring too long at the kitchen knives. Or the pills sitting in the bathroom cabinet. Thinking maybe everyone would simply be safer if she disappeared before the damage she caused spread any further. Clark kept calling. Texting. Voicemail after voicemail. None answered. Finally Chloe opened one message. Just one. It was about the wedding. Clark saying he hoped she’d be there. Lana too. Saying it wouldn’t feel right without her. Chloe immediately burst into tears all over again. “She wouldn’t want me there anyway,” she whispered shakily into the empty apartment. And if Clark knew… If he knew what she had let slip to Lex… “You wouldn’t either.” She cried until her chest physically hurt.

The wedding day finally arrived beneath a warm Kansas sky. And somehow— Despite everything— It was beautiful. The ceremony took place inside one of the only original churches still standing in Smallville. While much of the town had been destroyed and rebuilt over the years, this church endured almost untouched. The old wooden beams, stained glass windows, and weathered floors carried decades of history inside them. It felt timeless. Sacred. Like exactly the kind of place Clark and Lana were always meant to end up. Sunlight poured softly through the stained glass windows while guests slowly filled the pews, their quiet conversations blending with the faint sound of piano music drifting through the church. Clark stood at the altar trying not to look nervous. Failing. Perry noticed immediately. “You look like you’re about to fight Lobo again,” Perry whispered. Clark laughed under his breath. “I’m fine.” “You’ve adjusted your tie seventeen times.” Clark stopped touching it immediately. Pete nearly lost it laughing. Then the church doors opened. And Clark forgot every coherent thought in his head. Lana stood framed in sunlight at the end of the aisle and for a moment the entire room disappeared around her. Clark felt emotion hit him so suddenly it almost hurt. All he could think about was how many times he almost lost her. How many versions of his life existed where this never happened. Yet somehow— After everything— She was still walking toward him. Still choosing him. Lana saw the emotion in his eyes instantly and her own expression softened. Not nervous. Not uncertain. Happy. Completely. Martha quietly cried the entire walk down the aisle, memories of Jonathan flooding back so strongly she could barely contain herself. Perry took pictures constantly. Of course he did. Pete smiled wider than anyone else there. He had watched Clark and Lana circle around each other practically their entire lives. Seeing this finally happen felt like watching something destined finally reach its proper ending. Even Aunt Nell looked emotional despite herself. There was a time years ago she hadn’t thought much of Clark Kent at all. Just another awkward farmboy hopelessly following Lana around town. But over time she watched him become something rare. Steady. Kind. The kind of man who loved Lana with his whole heart. And that mattered more than anything else. Oliver called shortly before the ceremony began through a secured video line from his satellite. “Sorry I can’t make it,” he said. “Government still really wants to have a conversation with me.” Clark laughed softly. Oliver smiled. “But seriously… I’m happy for you both.” Then he pointed jokingly toward the screen. “And you’re getting an amazing wedding gift, so don’t start acting ungrateful.” Lana laughed. “We’ll hold you to that.” “You should.” The call ended shortly after. Around them, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, old friends, and familiar Smallville faces filled the church with warmth and celebration. And somewhere among the guests— One seat remained empty. Reserved for Chloe. Clark noticed it briefly. Only briefly. Concern flickered across his face for a second before Lana reached for his hand and gently intertwined her fingers with his. The warmth of her touch grounded him instantly. And in that moment— Nothing else mattered.

Back at the Kent farm, with nearly everyone important in Clark and Lana’s life gathered at the church, Mercy finally had her opportunity. The old farmhouse stood quiet beneath the late afternoon sky, peaceful and unsuspecting. Wind moved gently through the cornfields while sunlight stretched long across the porch Martha once decorated every spring with flowers and little painted lanterns. Mercy slipped through the front door without hesitation. The house smelled faintly of old wood, coffee, and laundry detergent. Normal. Warm. Human. It irritated her. For all the damage Clark Kent had caused powerful people over the years, for all the fear surrounding him now, his life still looked painfully simple on the surface. Family photos lined the walls. Stacks of old books sat beside the couch. There were loose floorboards that squeaked when stepped on and a faded blanket folded over the armchair near the fireplace. Mercy searched everything. Closets. Kitchen drawers. The basement. She tore through storage bins and shelves with increasing annoyance. “Come on…” she muttered under her breath. She expected alien technology. Weapons. Secrets. Instead she found old football trophies, farm records, high school yearbooks, and enough flannel shirts to outfit a small army. Eventually she climbed the stairs toward the loft. Clark’s loft. The one Lex used to talk about years ago with almost nostalgic bitterness. Mercy stepped carefully through the familiar space. Telescope. Old records. The couch near the window. Framed memories of a simpler life. Even now, after everything, the room still carried traces of who Clark Kent really was beneath the Guardian. Mercy finally knelt beside an old wooden box tucked partially beneath a shelf. Inside were keepsakes. Photos. Letters. Objects obviously important enough for Clark to keep hidden away rather than displayed. And beneath them— There it was. A metallic shield-shaped key engraved with the Kryptonian S. Mercy slowly lifted it into the light. The metal shimmered strangely across her fingers. Alien. Important. Exactly what Lex had been obsessing over. A small smile crept across her face. “Well now,” she whispered. She immediately pulled out her phone. Lex answered almost instantly. “I found it.” Silence lingered briefly on the other end. Then Lex spoke quietly. “Bring it to me.”

Miles away, sunlight poured through stained glass windows inside the old Smallville church while Clark stood at the altar trying to steady his breathing. Not because he was nervous about marrying Lana. That part had never felt more certain. It was the weight of the moment itself. Everything they had survived together. Every missed opportunity. Every heartbreak. Every goodbye that almost became permanent. All of it suddenly felt present here with him now. And when the church doors finally opened— Clark forgot how to breathe for a second anyway. Lana stood at the end of the aisle glowing in the soft afternoon light. Beautiful didn’t even begin covering it. Her dress moved gently as she walked, elegant without trying too hard, timeless in the same way she somehow always felt to him. Her eyes locked onto his almost immediately and Clark felt the rest of the room blur away around her. He remembered being fourteen years old staring at her across Smallville High. Remembered the Talon. The meteor showers. The barn dances. Every version of them that almost worked. And every version that didn’t. Yet somehow after all the pain, chaos, deaths, separations, monsters, powers, secrets, and impossible circumstances— She still walked toward him. Still chose him. Clark felt emotion tighten hard in his chest at the thought. Lana could see it in his eyes too. And suddenly she looked emotional herself. Not overwhelmed. Certain.

Like after years of storms she had finally reached home too. Martha quietly wiped tears beside Perry before the ceremony had even properly started. Pete leaned back in the pew smiling to himself. “Took you two long enough,” he muttered under his breath. Even Aunt Nell softened watching Lana approach the altar. Because whatever doubts she once had about Clark Kent disappeared years ago. No one could question the way he loved her niece anymore. The minister spoke. But honestly neither Clark nor Lana fully heard most of it. Not over the feeling of each other’s hands finally meeting. Not over the quiet realization that this was real. Clark couldn’t stop gently brushing his thumb across Lana’s knuckles while they stood there. Almost like he needed physical reassurance that the moment wasn’t going to disappear from him again. When it came time for vows, Clark’s voice softened noticeably. He didn’t speak like a superhero. Or a symbol. Or even the Guardian. Just Clark. Honest. Open. “I spent so much of my life afraid,” he admitted quietly, eyes never leaving hers. “Afraid of losing people. Afraid of letting them close. Afraid that who I was would hurt the people I loved.” Lana’s eyes watered immediately. “But no matter what happened… no matter how many times life pulled us apart… somehow we always found each other again.” Clark smiled faintly through the emotion in his voice. “And I think part of me always knew why.” Lana squeezed his hands tighter. “But no matter what happened… no matter how many times life pulled us apart… somehow we always found each other again.” Clark smiled faintly through the emotion in his voice. “And I think part of me always knew why.” Lana squeezed his hands tighter. “When I’m with you,” Clark continued softly, “I feel like the man you’ve always believed I could be. Strong, heroic, gentle and kind. Just… me, You see me for me, and no one else has ever made me feel so complete or known me so well as you.” Lana’s eyes watered immediately as he brushed his thumb gently across her hand. “And after everything we’ve been through, that means more to me than I could ever explain.” By this point even Perry had stopped taking pictures for a moment. Lana laughed softly through tears before speaking her own vows. And Clark nearly lost himself listening to her. Because there was no fear left in her voice anymore. No hesitation. Only love. Strong enough to survive everything they had endured. “You were my first love,” Lana whispered. “But somewhere along the way… you became so much more than that.” Clark felt his throat tighten. “You became my peace.” The church fell completely silent. Lana smiled through tears now. “And no matter how extraordinary the world around us gets… when I look at you I still see the boy from Smallville that I fell in love with a long time ago.” Clark’s eyes watered openly now. Neither of them cared. Rings were exchanged with trembling hands. Then finally the minister smiled warmly. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Clark barely waited. His hand slid gently against Lana’s cheek as he kissed her deeply while applause erupted all around them. For a few beautiful seconds— Nothing else existed. No White Martians. No government conspiracies. No Lex. No fear. Only them. Only this. Only the overwhelming realization that after a lifetime of fighting for each other— They had finally won.

[neondreamscapes]

Smallville: A Different path book 2

Chapter 27: The wedding of a lifetime - part 1

The wedding plans came together surprisingly fast. After everything they had survived, neither Clark nor Lana wanted to wait anymore. There was no desire for some giant extravagant ceremony planned over the course of a year. No endless debates over decorations or seating arrangements or flower colors. They had already spent too much of their lives waiting for the timing to be right. Every time happiness seemed close, something pulled them apart again. Secrets. Fear. Destiny. Death. The world itself. So this time they made a quiet decision together without even really needing to discuss it much: No more waiting. Within only a few days the guest list was finalized and the wedding date set shortly after that. It almost felt impulsive to everyone else. To Clark and Lana— It felt overdue. And strangely freeing. Because for once, neither of them cared about perfection. They just wanted each other. Officially. Completely. After years of heartbreak, near misses, separations, tragedies, impossible responsibilities, and constantly feeling like life was trying to keep them apart, finally becoming husband and wife suddenly felt more important than anything else in the world.

Clark called Martha for the first time in months while standing outside near the barn one evening. The conversation started slightly awkwardly at first, both of them realizing how much time had slipped by without either meaning for it to. Too many crises. Too many responsibilities. Too much hurt quietly building distance between conversations. But the second Clark finally said the words— “Lana and I are getting married”— Martha audibly broke down crying on the other end of the line. “Oh Clark…” He could practically picture the tears filling her eyes. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear this.” Clark leaned against the old barn railing smiling softly to himself while the Kansas wind rolled through the fields behind him. “I know.” And he did know. Martha immediately launched into questions about flowers, food, dates, decorations, seating, churches, colors, guest lists—her excitement spilling out faster than Clark could even answer. For the first time in a long time, they weren’t talking about disasters. Or alien invasions. Or government conspiracies. Or the weight of Clark’s responsibilities. They were just mother and son again. And goodness… Clark had missed that more than he realized.

Meanwhile in Metropolis, Perry White finally got something he had chased for years. An official interview with the Guardian. Combined with exclusive coverage of the White Martian attack—footage and reporting many major news stations failed to obtain either because their buildings had been destroyed or because reporters fled in panic—the Daily Star exploded in popularity almost overnight. Perry leaned heavily into the paper’s reputation for integrity. Truth. Courage. Honest reporting. Things the Daily Planet slowly began losing under Lex Luthor’s increasingly aggressive ownership. And people noticed. The Star rapidly became a legitimate rival to the Planet in every conceivable way. Perry couldn’t have been prouder. Though despite the massive success, he still loudly insisted Clark and Lana’s wedding photos were “the real front-page story.”

Pete finally arrived in town after nearly missing multiple connecting flights trying to get there from so far away. The second Clark saw him stepping out of the truck near the farm, he immediately pulled him into a hug hard enough to nearly knock the wind out of him. “Dang Smallville,” Pete laughed while catching his breath, “you still hug like a farmboy.” Clark laughed harder than he had in weeks. Real laughter. The kind that felt good afterward instead of forced. Pete looked around the farm afterward quietly. The porch. The barn. The fields. The old swing. So much had changed over the years. People had died. Lives had shattered and rebuilt themselves over and over. And yet somehow this place still felt like home. Still felt like Clark. Pete smiled to himself. “Never thought I’d actually see this happen,” he admitted. Clark looked over. “What?” “You and Lana actually getting married.” Clark smiled faintly toward the house where Lana’s silhouette moved through the kitchen window. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Me neither sometimes.”

[neondreamscapes]

Smallville: A Different path book 2

chapter 26 - part 2

On the outskirts of Metropolis, far beyond the sections of the city still scarred and smoking from the White Martian attack, stood a newly constructed building of steel, black glass, and reinforced concrete. The Hall of Justice. Queen Industries had built it quietly through layers of subsidiaries and shell companies so complicated even government investigators would struggle tracing it back to Oliver Queen directly. From the outside it appeared more like an advanced research facility than a headquarters for heroes. And unlike much of Metropolis— It still stood untouched. Lights glowed softly across the massive central chamber as six figures entered through the secured lower level one after another, each using encrypted access codes Oliver had personally sent them. The heavy blast doors sealed shut behind them. Speedy entered first, red hood pulled low over sharp focused eyes. Every movement about him practically screamed Green Arrow influence. The stance. The confidence. Even the way he carried his bow across his back mirrored Oliver almost exactly. And skill-wise? He was dangerously close to becoming his equal. Behind him came Wally West. Restless energy practically radiated off him. He moved constantly even while standing still, fingers tapping against his leg while he glanced around the massive chamber. “Okay,” Wally muttered, “this place is officially cooler than the Watchtower.” Black Canary smirked faintly beside him. “You say that about every new headquarters.” “Because every new headquarters keeps getting cooler.” Canary shook her head slightly but there was warmth there. Out of everyone present, she looked the most seasoned. Calm. Focused. She carried herself like somebody who had already survived enough battles to know exactly how ugly this life could become. The Question stood further back near the shadows almost unnaturally still. Faceless. Silent. Watching everything. Even among heroes, he made people uneasy. The way he tilted his head slightly at conversations without speaking made it feel like he was already ten steps ahead mentally, dissecting every movement in the room. Only one detective on Earth was considered better than him. And that man preferred rooftops and isolation to teams. Huntress walked slowly around the central platform examining the room carefully. Young. Beautiful. Dangerous. She moved with the kind of confidence only somebody truly lethal possessed. Every weapon on her was placed with purpose and precision. Kyle Reiner remained near the back staring upward at the towering holographic displays overhead with open fascination. Compared to the others, he still looked almost out of place. A comic book artist handed one of the most powerful weapons in the universe. The green ring resting on his finger glowed faintly as giant emerald constructs absentmindedly flickered around him while he thought—small jets, creatures, geometric shapes appearing and vanishing rapidly. “In fairness,” Kyle muttered quietly, “this is exactly the kind of place I imagined existed as a kid.” Wally pointed at him immediately. “See? He gets it.” Before anyone could respond, the massive monitor at the front of the chamber flickered to life. Oliver Queen appeared onscreen from inside the cockpit of his jet. He looked tired. Far more tired than he tried letting on. “Glad you all made it.” The room quieted immediately. Oliver leaned back slightly in his seat. “First things first, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there in person. But for the foreseeable future…” he exhaled quietly, “…this is probably how things are going to have to work.” No one interrupted him. Outside the jet windows behind Oliver, the curvature of Earth slowly rotated beneath him. “I brought all of you here because you each have something unique to offer,” Oliver continued. “Not just abilities. Anybody can throw punches or shoot energy blasts these days.” His eyes sharpened slightly. “But teamwork? Trust? The willingness to actually stand beside other people when things get bad?” He shook his head. “That’s rare.”

The screen behind him shifted briefly showing images from the White Martian attack. Burning cities. Rescue crews. The Guardian pulling survivors from rubble. The room became noticeably heavier. “What happened this week proved something,” Oliver said quietly. “The world needs more heroes.” Nobody argued with that. “There are threats out there now bigger than any one person can handle alone. Alien invasions. Government black ops groups. Enhanced criminals. Metahumans. Things people can’t even begin to understand.” Oliver folded his hands together. “And if we’re going to survive what’s coming next, then we need to evolve too.” Wally straightened slightly hearing that. Oliver continued. “In the best interest of Queen Industries—and keeping the government as far out of our business as possible—I’ve made the decision to sell the company.” That got reactions immediately. “What?!” Wally blurted. “To Bruce Wayne,” Oliver added calmly. That quieted the room again instantly. Even Huntress looked mildly surprised. Oliver smirked faintly. “Relax. Wayne promised operations stay exactly the same. Same production divisions. Same technology development. Same support systems.” A pause.

“With a much stronger emphasis on privacy.” The Question nodded once slightly at that. “If any of you ever need equipment, weapons, vehicles, specialized tech—Bruce will provide access.” Kyle raised a hand awkwardly. “So… wait… Batman owns Queen Industries now?” Oliver grimaced. “Let’s not phrase it like that.” Wally snorted laughing. Even Canary smiled faintly. Oliver’s expression softened slightly watching the reactions. Then he became serious again. “I will remain leader of this group.” The room settled immediately. “I’ll coordinate operations globally and inform you of threats requiring our specialized attention. You’ll work together. Train together. Learn from each other.” His eyes moved carefully across each of them through the screen. “And hopefully… make the world a better place than the one we inherited.” For a moment there was silence. Then applause slowly spread through the chamber. Real applause. Not forced. Not ceremonial. Excited. Hopeful. For the first time in days, after all the destruction and fear and death— Something good actually felt like it might be beginning.

The Kent farm had finally started feeling alive again. Not because the world had gotten better. It hadn’t. Cities were still rebuilding. Governments were still panicking. Entire regions of the country still looked wounded. But here— For this brief moment— There was peace. Clark sat out on the porch steps bathing quietly in the early evening sunlight while wind rolled gently through the endless Kansas cornfields around him. The warmth felt good against his skin. Healing. He flexed his hand slowly, studying it. Only faint traces of the blisters remained now. The soreness from pushing himself beyond his limits against the White Martian had almost completely faded. His body was recovering. Though part of him wasn’t sure his mind ever fully would. Still, sitting there listening to the distant rustle of the fields and the old porch creaking softly beneath him, Clark finally allowed himself to breathe for what felt like the first time in days. No screaming. No collapsing buildings. No death. Just sunlight. And home. Clark closed his eyes briefly and tilted his face toward the sun. Then Lana’s voice drifted out from inside the farmhouse. “You’ve been out there all day,” she called warmly. “Dinner time!” A small smile tugged at Clark’s face immediately. Somehow her voice always grounded him faster than anything else in the world. He stood and headed inside.

The kitchen glowed softly beneath the hanging lights overhead while dinner sat steaming across the table between them. It wasn’t elaborate. Just warm homemade food and the familiar comfort of the old farmhouse around them. But after everything they had survived lately— It felt perfect. Clark watched Lana quietly for a moment while she fixed his plate. The softness in her expression. The way she absentmindedly tucked hair behind her ear. The calm she brought into every room without even trying. And suddenly the decision inside him felt incredibly simple. Clark set his fork down gently. “I’ve made a decision.” Lana looked up curiously. Clark leaned back slightly in his chair. “I’m taking a break for awhile.” That clearly surprised her. Clark saw it instantly in her eyes. “Not forever,” he clarified quickly. “And I’ll still probably do a few saves here and there in Metropolis if something serious happens.” He smiled softly. “But… I want to focus on us for a little while.” Lana’s expression slowly changed. Warmth spread across her face so naturally it almost hurt to look at. Clark continued quietly. “Our wedding’s been overdue for a long time.” For a second Lana just stared at him. “You mean it?” “I do.” She dropped her fork immediately and crossed the kitchen before Clark could say anything else. Lana kissed him hard enough to nearly knock the chair backward. Clark laughed against the kiss and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her easily onto his lap while she let out a joyful breathless laugh into him. For the first time in a long time— Everything felt simple. Real. Right. Clark rested his forehead lightly against hers. “It’s the least I can do,” he said softly. “For you. For us.” Lana’s hand slid along the side of his face gently. “You’ve been so patient with me all these months,” Clark continued. “And I think it’s finally time.” His eyes held hers completely now. “You’re the woman of my dreams, Lana. You always have been.” Emotion flickered through her eyes immediately. “And I want to make this official.” Lana kissed him again before he could say anything more. Not because she needed more convincing. Because she’d waited so long to hear him finally say it out loud. Outside, the last light of evening faded slowly over the farm while laughter and warmth filled the old Kent house again.

Deep beneath Metropolis, inside one of Lex Luthor’s many hidden underground facilities— Chloe Sullivan was barely conscious. The interrogation room looked colder now somehow. Crueler. Her wrists hung limply against the restraints while bruises darkened her face from days of abuse and exhaustion. Every muscle in her body trembled slightly from lack of sleep. Mercy and the other interrogator stood nearby while Lex entered the room once more. This time calmer. Focused. He approached Chloe slowly. “How does it work?” he asked quietly. Chloe barely lifted her head. “A… a what…” “The portal.” Lex crouched in front of her. “The caves. The Fortress. How does Clark activate it?” Chloe’s thoughts drifted in and out now like broken static. “It’s…” she stumbled weakly, “some kind of… medallion…” Lex’s eyes sharpened immediately. “What kind of medallion?” “A shield…” “Tell me more.” Chloe’s head rolled slightly to the side. “It has an S on it…” she whispered weakly. “Metal…” Lex stood immediately. Excitement flickered across his face. He turned toward Mercy. “Search the Kent farm the moment you're aware they've left for the day.” His voice hardened instantly. “Every last square inch of it.” Mercy nodded once. “Yes sir, Mr. Luthor.” Lex glanced back toward Chloe. “And” His expression remained unreadable. “Drop Miss Sullivan back at her apartment.” Mercy looked mildly surprised by that order but nodded anyway. “Yes sir.” Lex stared at Chloe for another long moment before finally turning away. And somewhere far above them— Completely unaware— Clark Kent held the woman he loved in his arms while the storm gathering around his life moved one step closer to reaching his front door.

[neondreamscapes]

Smallville: A Different path book 2

Chapter 26: Interrogation - part 1

The room never changed. That was part of the torture. No windows. No clock. No sense of time. Only the dull buzz of fluorescent lights overhead and the suffocating smell of stale coffee, sweat, and cold concrete. Chloe sat slumped in the metal chair barely able to keep her eyes open anymore. Dark bruises had formed beneath them from exhaustion, her body constantly drifting toward sleep only to be violently pulled back awake again. Days. At least she thought it had been days. It was hard to tell anymore. Mercy Graves slowly circled around her like a shark enjoying wounded prey while another specialist sat across the table calmly reviewing notes and photographs. Their methods were completely different. But together— They worked frighteningly well. The other interrogator stayed clinical. Controlled. Patient. He asked the same questions over and over in different ways, searching for inconsistencies and weak points. Mercy preferred something far uglier. She enjoyed breaking people. And Chloe could see it in her eyes every single time she walked into the room. “You know,” Mercy said casually while leaning against the table, “most people crack a lot faster than this.” Chloe stayed silent. Mercy smiled slightly. “Guess that farmboy inspires loyalty.” A television flickered on behind them. News footage. The Guardian tearing through downtown Chicago. Collapsed buildings. Military analysts talking over one another. “Uncontrolled alien intervention.” “Potential national security threat.” “Escalating destruction tied directly to enhanced individuals.” Clips of Lois Lane’s reporting played next, carefully edited and reframed in the harshest possible light. Questions about unchecked power. Questions about collateral damage. Questions about whether humanity was truly safe with beings like him operating freely. Mercy nodded toward the screen. “Looks less like a hero every day, doesn’t he?” Chloe looked up slowly, exhausted fury burning behind tired eyes. “He saves people.” “And yet Jimmy Olsen’s still in a coma.” The words hit hard. Mercy saw it immediately. Saw the hesitation. The pain. So she pressed harder. “Funny,” Mercy continued softly, “for somebody so powerful, he sure wasn’t there when your friend needed him.” Chloe’s breathing became uneven. “He didn’t know—” “But he should’ve.” The specialist across the table leaned forward calmly. “When did you first realize Clark Kent had abilities?” Silence. Mercy crouched down beside Chloe’s chair. “You’re protecting somebody dangerous.” “No,” Chloe whispered weakly. “I’m protecting somebody good.” Mercy sighed dramatically. “There it is again. Hero worship.” Then suddenly her hand slammed down on the table hard enough to make Chloe flinch. “He’s not human, Chloe.” The room fell quiet again. Chloe looked away. And that tiny reaction told them enough.

The sleep deprivation only got worse after that. Every time Chloe started drifting off, someone shook her awake. Bright lights flashed directly into her eyes. Loud noises erupted unexpectedly from hidden speakers. Questions repeated endlessly until they blended together into meaningless noise. When she insisted Clark saved people— They reminded her Jimmy was dying. When she defended him— They showed footage of burning cities. When she claimed he was a hero— They forced her to watch casualty reports. Piece by piece they chipped away at her defenses. Eventually Chloe admitted Lex’s old suspicions were true. Clark had powers. He’d been saving people for years. But even then she refused to say the word alien. Refused to fully betray him. At least not at first.

Then Lex finally entered the room himself. And somehow that felt worse. He looked exhausted, intense, almost feverish now that his memories had returned. Obsession burned behind his eyes with frightening clarity. Lex approached slowly while Chloe struggled to stay conscious in the chair. For a brief second, seeing him almost reminded her of the old Lex. The friend. The ally. Then he grabbed her by the head violently and forced her to look at him. “He goes somewhere sometimes,” Lex said sharply. “There’s a portal in those caves, isn’t there?” Chloe stayed silent. Lex slapped her across the face hard enough to nearly knock her sideways. “You’ve been there.” Another slap. “Tell me where it is.” Tears streamed down Chloe’s face now from exhaustion more than pain. Finally— She broke again. “Yes!” she cried. “Yes, okay!” Lex froze. Chloe sobbed openly. “He has a crystal fortress in the Arctic…” The words hung in the room. Lex’s grip tightened immediately. A dangerous excitement flashed across his face. He leaned closer. “How do you activate it?” Chloe shut her eyes tightly. “How do the symbols work?” Lex demanded. “Tell me how to open the portal.” She said nothing. Lex struck her again. Harder. Then slowly straightened his jacket. “Another few hours,” he said coldly, “and you’ll open up.” He turned and walked toward the door. Mercy smiled faintly as Lex exited the room. Then she rolled her sleeves up slightly and looked back toward Chloe. “Well,” she said almost cheerfully, “where were we?”

[sakuraonlyfans]

LANA LANG Smallville 1×16 (Stray)

[kristinthomas]

.... She's only stupidly pretty, but, whatever....

(via Kristin's IG May 26th)

[neondreamscapes]

Smallville: A Different path book 2

chapter 25 - part 2

A little while later, Lois stepped out into one of the quieter hospital corridors wearing borrowed scrubs and carrying a cup of coffee she had no intention of drinking. “Lois.” She turned. Chloe hurried toward her and immediately pulled her into a hug. “Oh my goodness, I’m glad you’re okay.” Lois hugged her back tightly for a moment. “Trust me, I’ve looked better.” Chloe laughed softly through obvious stress. For a second things almost felt normal again. The two of them slowly walked down the hallway together while exhausted nurses and doctors moved around them. “I swear,” Chloe said, “between your schedule and mine I feel like I only see you during disasters now.” “Occupational hazard.” The faintest smile crossed Chloe’s face. After everything that had happened, just talking again felt grounding somehow. Eventually Chloe glanced toward the ICU wing. “What happened up there?” Lois looked down into her untouched coffee for a moment. “That thing got into our heads,” she said quietly. “After that everything just kind of… spiraled.” She didn’t elaborate further. Couldn’t. Because the second she let herself say the full truth out loud—that Jimmy warned her, that she pushed anyway, that she always pushed—it would become real in a way she wasn’t ready to face. Instead she straightened slightly and forced some confidence back into her voice. “Hey.” She nudged Chloe lightly with her shoulder. “Jimmy’s tough. He’s gonna pull through.” Chloe nodded quickly. “Yeah.” But the worry in her eyes remained. She wanted to believe Lois. Desperately. Lois looked toward the hospital exit. “I should probably get out of here anyway,” she muttered. “Too many reporters already circling the place. Last thing this hospital needs is more chaos.” It sounded practical. Reasonable. But Chloe could tell Lois really just wanted to go home. Shower. Sit in silence. Try to wash the smoke, blood, guilt, and screaming out of her head even if none of it would actually leave. Lois gave Chloe’s arm a small squeeze before starting down the hallway. “Keep me updated on Jimmy, okay?” Chloe nodded. “I will.” Lois walked away without looking back. Soon Chloe was left standing alone in the hallway again while the sounds of distant monitors and hospital intercoms echoed softly around her. And the more Chloe thought about the conversation, the worse the unease in her chest became. Because Lois had danced around what happened so carefully, so deliberately, that it almost felt like watching someone run from the truth instead of face it.

The Kent farm felt strangely quiet compared to the rest of the world. Lana sat curled up on the couch with the television glowing softly across the darkened living room while fragmented news coverage flickered from one devastated city to another. Every station seemed overwhelmed. Half the local affiliates across the Midwest had either been destroyed outright or were running with skeleton crews after the White Martian attack. Still, every once in awhile— There he was. The Guardian. A blur streaking through smoke. Lifting collapsed walls. Carrying survivors from burning buildings. Stopping falling debris moments before it crushed rescue workers below. The footage was always brief. Grainy. Usually captured accidentally from helicopters or civilians filming from the streets before he vanished again toward the next emergency. He never stayed anywhere long enough for cameras to properly follow him. But Lana always recognized him instantly anyway. Even from miles away. Even through smoke and chaos. A faint smile touched her face watching him pull a trapped firefighter from beneath a collapsed support beam before disappearing upward again without waiting for thanks. The news anchors argued endlessly afterward. Some called him humanity’s greatest protector. Others questioned whether disasters on this scale only existed because beings like him existed in the first place. Military analysts debated whether alien intervention had become too dangerous. Political commentators argued over Amanda Waller’s increasingly aggressive anti-alien policies. But among the survivors? Among the people the Guardian physically pulled from fires and rubble with his own hands? There was no debate there. To them— He was a hero. Metropolis itself looked broken now. LuthorCorp Tower—once one of the most expensive and recognizable buildings in the world—lay collapsed into a mountain of twisted steel, shattered glass, and pulverized concrete. Smoke still drifted from sections of the ruins while military vehicles blocked entire streets surrounding the area. And elsewhere downtown, government agents flooded through the Watchtower carrying crates of confiscated equipment while armored vehicles surrounded the perimeter below. One of the only major structures still standing after the White Martian attack was now being stripped apart piece by piece. The message was obvious. Queen Industries may have had licenses to manufacture thermobaric bombs. Using them was another matter entirely. And the government clearly intended to make an example out of someone.

Far above the Earth, Oliver Queen watched it all unfold from inside the cockpit of his jet. Security footage from the Watchtower played silently across one of the screens beside him while agents tore through computers, weapons lockers, and storage rooms. Oliver leaned back in his seat slowly. “Well,” he muttered under his breath, “that could’ve gone better.” Despite the joke, exhaustion sat heavily across his face. He took a long breath and rubbed a hand over his eyes. Unfortunate. But not unexpected. After what happened in Metropolis and Chicago, there was no world where the government simply let him walk away from deploying enough explosives to level a city block. Especially now. Not with paranoia spreading through Washington faster than wildfire. Oliver glanced out through the cockpit window at the curve of the Earth far below. Then reached forward and adjusted the controls. His jet changed course smoothly. Destination: His satellite. The only one left with functioning living quarters. And for the first time in a long time, Oliver Queen quietly realized he might not be going home for awhile. Evening settled slowly over Smallville by the time Chloe finally returned to her apartment. The exhaustion in her body felt crushing now that she had stopped moving. Hospital lights. Doctor’s voices. Jimmy lying motionless beneath layers of machines and wires. It all kept replaying in her head over and over. The doctors tried being optimistic, but optimism only went so far with head trauma. “A week.” “A month.” “A year.” “We just don’t know.” Comas were cruel like that. Unpredictable. Chloe climbed the apartment steps numbly, barely even noticing the cool night air around her. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached into her purse for her keys. For a brief second she just stood there staring at the apartment door. Trying to gather herself. Trying not to fall apart. Then— Movement behind her. Chloe started turning— But something hard slammed into the back of her head. Pain exploded through her vision. The hallway spun violently sideways before darkness swallowed everything. Her keys clattered uselessly onto the concrete. Mercy Graves caught Chloe before she fully hit the ground. “Well,” Mercy muttered dryly while adjusting her grip on her unconscious body, “that was easier than expected.” A nearby unmarked van door slid open. Within seconds Chloe disappeared inside it. The van pulled away quietly into the night.

Clark didn’t make it home until very late. The old Kent farmhouse sat peacefully beneath the stars while wind rolled softly through the surrounding cornfields. After the endless screaming, sirens, collapsing buildings, and death, the stillness almost felt unreal. Clark stepped through the front door looking completely worn down. His clothes were dirty and streaked with soot. Dust clung to his boots and dried blood marked one sleeve where his knuckles had split open earlier pulling survivors from rubble. He looked exhausted in every possible way. But here— Away from the chaos. Away from the destruction. He could breathe again. Clark removed his jacket slowly and hung it near the door without a second thought, completely forgetting his phone was still inside the pocket. The screen remained dark now. Five missed calls. Nine unanswered texts. All from Chloe. None of them seen. Lana looked up from the couch the moment Clark entered the room. She didn’t rush toward him this time. Didn’t overwhelm him with questions. Instead she simply opened her arms slightly. Clark crossed the room immediately and sat beside her. Lana wrapped herself against him, nestling close between his shoulder and neck while Clark let out a long breath and rested his head lightly against hers. For awhile neither one of them spoke. They didn’t need to. The silence between them wasn’t empty. It was understanding. Love. They knew each other well enough now to feel what the other was carrying without words. Lana eventually pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. “I made dinner a few hours ago,” she said softly. “If you want anything I can heat it up.” Clark gave a tired little smile. “Thanks.” His voice came out rougher than usual. “But honestly… more than anything right now I think I just want a shower and sleep.” Lana nodded gently. “I figured.” Her hand brushed softly along his cheek for a brief moment before she leaned forward and kissed him lightly. And for a little while longer, quiet peace settled over the old family house while the rest of the world continued struggling to put itself back together.

[neondreamscapes]

Smallville: A Different path book 2

Chapter 25: Aftermath - part 1

The victory over the White Martian lasted only long enough for the screaming to stop. Then reality settled in. And reality was devastating. Across the Midwest, smoke still climbed into the sky from shattered cities. Entire sections of Metropolis looked bombed out. Chicago’s skyline had been carved apart by fire and collapsed towers. St. Louis burned through most of the night while rescue crews dug through mountains of steel and concrete searching for survivors. Smaller cities like Peoria suffered just as badly, emergency services overwhelmed almost instantly by the psychic chaos the creature unleashed before it ever physically tore through the streets. The White Martian was dead. But the damage it left behind was unlike anything humanity had ever seen. Entire neighborhoods had turned against themselves before the monster even arrived. Hallucinations spread through crowds like infection. Some people barricaded themselves inside homes convinced invisible creatures were outside scratching at the walls. Others wandered aimlessly through the streets in shock, talking to dead loved ones only they could see. A firefighter had to be restrained after trying to rescue children from a school that had been empty for six years. Police officers had opened fire on each other believing they were shapeshifters. One hospital wing had to be evacuated after dozens of patients simultaneously began screaming that the ceiling was melting and dripping blood onto them. Even after the creature died, the trauma lingered. The country felt broken, and the question remained could it ever truly heal from this.

And Clark barely had time to process any of it. The Guardian became a constant blur across the Midwest through the rest of the night. One moment he was lifting collapsed highway sections off trapped civilians outside Chicago. Minutes later he was extinguishing fires spreading through apartment complexes in Metropolis before flying toward another distress call somewhere else entirely. His shirt, brand new, was already stained with ash and soot now. His body ached. But he kept moving. Because every time he stopped, he heard another scream. Another collapsing structure. Another person crying for help. Clark tore open wreckage with sore blistered hands to reach survivors trapped beneath steel beams. He carried injured children to emergency crews while smoke rolled through burning streets around him. He used his freeze breath until his lungs burned trying to contain refinery fires threatening entire districts. People reached for him now when they saw him. Not in awe. In desperation. And beneath every rescue, every save, every second spent helping rebuild some tiny piece of the nightmare— Another fear kept creeping into his mind. Amanda Waller. The government. His identity. Amanda knew too much now. Clark couldn’t stop replaying their conversations in his head. The way she spoke to him. The certainty behind her words. If Amanda Waller knew who he was… How many others did too? How long before someone came for Lana again? That fear sat inside him heavier than the exhaustion. High above Chicago, Clark hovered beside a partially collapsed skyscraper while emergency lights flickered endlessly below him through the smoke. A family cried out from somewhere deep beneath the rubble below and Clark immediately dove toward the sound without hesitation. His phone vibrated repeatedly inside his jacket pocket. Chloe. Again. And again. But Clark never noticed. Not with sirens screaming through the streets below him. Not with people crying for help in every direction. Not with the overwhelming weight of everything he had witnessed still pressing down on him like a mountain.

The hope of Clark ever having even a shred of a normal life again was fading fast. Everywhere he looked there was destruction. Pain. Fear. And people depending on him. The Guardian moved through the ruins of Chicago like a force of nature himself, ash blowing across his jacket, so worn, torn and dirty now, the angel wings barley visible anymore on the back, but still a portion of them managed to shine through, light reflecting off them like a reminder that there is always still hope as long as their is faith. Emergency lights still painting the smoke-filled streets below in flashes of red and blue. Clark landed beside a collapsed parking structure and immediately heard faint cries beneath the concrete. “Hold on!” he shouted. He wedged himself beneath a cracked support beam and lifted. Muscles tightened beneath torn fabric as thousands of tons of rubble slowly shifted upward just enough for trapped civilians to crawl free. EMTs rushed in immediately, pulling injured people onto stretchers while Clark kept the structure from collapsing further. A little girl covered in dust looked back at him while paramedics carried her away. “Thank you, Guardian…” Clark forced a tired smile. Then he was gone again. Minutes later he burst through the upper floor of a burning apartment complex moments before the staircase collapsed inward. Smoke rolled thick through the hallways while terrified residents pounded against doors trapped by debris. Clark tore entire walls free with his bare hands creating escape paths while firefighters sprayed water around him. “Fourth floor’s clear!” one firefighter yelled. Clark’s hearing sharpened. “No it’s not.” A heartbeat. Weak. Near the back. Clark blasted through another wall and found an elderly man trapped beneath a fallen refrigerator. Within seconds Clark lifted the wreckage away and carried him downstairs to waiting medics. Everywhere Clark turned there was another emergency. Another scream. Another building threatening to collapse. At one point he stopped an ambulance from being crushed beneath falling debris with only one arm while simultaneously using heat vision to cut apart twisted steel trapping a firefighter’s leg. He barely even noticed the blood trickling from small cuts along his knuckles. He had pushed himself to the limit and beyond. He was tiered, really tiered. The solar batteries that are his cells, were beginning to tap out. The very source of what fueled his invulnerability and every other amazing power running on empty.

At Metropolis General Hospital, Lois slowly opened her eyes to blinding fluorescent lights. Pain throbbed through the side of her head immediately. For a second she looked confused. Then the memories came flooding back. The helicopter. Jimmy. The White Martian. Lois sat upright too quickly and winced. A doctor immediately stepped toward her. “Easy, Miss Lane.” “Jimmy.” Her voice cracked slightly. “Where’s Jimmy?” The doctor’s expression shifted. Not good. Lois saw it instantly. “The way the helicopter landed…” the doctor began carefully, “your side absorbed significantly less of the impact.” Lois swallowed hard. “And Jimmy?” The doctor hesitated. “He took most of the force.” The words hit like a punch. Lois looked away briefly trying to steady herself. “He’s alive?” “Yes,” the doctor assured her quickly. “But he’s currently on life support.” Lois closed her eyes. The doctor continued explaining her injuries—minor cuts, bruising, a mild concussion—but Lois barely heard any of it.

[neondreamscapes]

Smallville: A Different path book 2

Chapter 24 - part 2

Chicago burned beneath storm clouds and ash when Clark finally faced the White Martian again. Only now— He flew. The creature spotted him immediately and let out a psychic shriek powerful enough to shatter every remaining window along the street. Clark didn’t stop. He slammed directly into the White Martian chest-first, the impact creating a shockwave that ripped through nearby buildings. Both of them crashed through a skyscraper sideward and erupted out the other end trailing glass and steel hundreds of feet through the air. The White Martian recovered instantly. Clark barely had time to block before the creature’s fist smashed against his forearms hard enough to send him hurtling backward through three more buildings. Concrete exploded around him. Clark flew back into the fight immediately. Fast. Precise. His fist cracked across the creature’s jaw with enough force to twist its head sideways before Clark followed with another blow directly into its ribs. The White Martian barely reacted. It grabbed Clark mid-flight and hurled him through an office tower. Desks. Glass. Computer monitors. Everything exploded around him. Clark burst back outward from the collapsing structure and tackled the creature across the skyline again. The fight ripped through Chicago like two gods at war. Every impact shook buildings. Every missed strike cratered streets. Clark hammered the creature through elevated train rails, construction cranes, and entire office floors trying desperately to keep the battle away from fleeing civilians. But no matter how hard he hit it— The White Martian just kept coming. Its stamina seemed endless. Its rage bottomless. The creature slammed Clark downward into a parking garage hard enough to collapse half the structure in on it self. Clark rose from the rubble breathing heavily now. The psychic scream hit him again. And this time— Something slipped through. Suddenly the city vanished. Clark stood alone in the Kent barn. Only it wasn’t right. Blood dripped slowly from the rafters. The family photos lining the walls showed everyone dead-eyed and decaying. Jonathan stood in the loft staring down at him silently with black hollow sockets where his eyes should’ve been. “You failed them.” Clark staggered backward. “No…” Another voice whispered behind him. Lana’s. “You always destroy the people you love.” Clark spun around— And saw Lana standing beneath the oak tree burned black and lifeless, the bracelet still hanging from her wrist while her skin cracked apart like ash in the wind. Clark’s breathing became erratic. The hallucination felt real. Too real. Then somewhere through the nightmare— He heard her actual voice. “You can do this.” Clark blinked hard. Reality snapped violently back into place. The White Martian was already charging him. Clark roared and met it head-on. Both collided midair above downtown with enough force to split clouds apart overhead. Oliver’s voice exploded through the communicator. “Clark!” Clark drove an elbow into the creature’s throat. “You better have good news!” “You’ve got five minutes before that stealth jet drops the nuke!” Clark’s eyes widened slightly. Five minutes. That was it. The White Martian slammed both fists into Clark’s back sending him crashing downward through a rooftop. Clark forced himself up again through sheer exhaustion. His entire body hurt. His mind hurt. But he thought about Jonathan. About Lana. About Smallville. About the faith they had in him. Then Clark flew upward again faster than before. The White Martian lunged toward him. Clark slipped under the attack and landed a devastating uppercut directly beneath the creature’s jaw.

CRACK!.

For the first time all fight— The White Martian looked stunned. Clark didn’t let up. He came in again with everything he had left and drove his fist directly into the side of the creature’s head. The impact dazed it completely. The monster stumbled. Clark seized the moment. He blurred behind it instantly, grabbed hold of its massive tail, and flew. The White Martian roared in fury trying to react but Clark was already moving too fast. Chicago became streaks of light beneath them. The mineshaft appeared ahead. Clark spun the creature violently once. Twice. Three times. Then hurled it downward with every ounce of strength left in his body. The White Martian disappeared deep into the darkness below. Clark shot upward away from the shaft at maximum speed. “OLIVER!” Oliver already had his hand over the detonator. “Please let this work…” He pressed the trigger. For one terrifying second— Nothing happened. Then the Earth erupted. The entire mineshaft exploded upward in an enormous inferno as all nine thermobaric bombs ignited simultaneously alongside tens of thousands of gallons of gasoline. A fireball consumed the night. The blast wave flattened trees for miles. Heat rolled outward like the surface of the sun itself while flames spiraled hundreds of feet into the sky. Even from downtown Chicago the explosion looked apocalyptic. Inside the inbound stealth jet, warning systems lit up immediately as the crew stared toward the distant inferno. “My God…” Back in the Pentagon, military analysts scrambled over incoming data. No movement. No psychic emissions. No life signs. Amanda Waller stared at the screens silently. Finally a technician looked up. “The target is gone.” Silence swept across the room. Then the general in command exhaled slowly. “Call off the strike.” The stealth jet banked away from Chicago. The nuclear payload remained untouched. Far below, the fires slowly burned themselves out around the collapsed mineshaft. And for the first time in hours— The screaming inside the city stopped. The White Martian was dead. Clark flew home through the dark Kansas sky exhausted beyond words. His Jacket and shirt was torn in several places. Ash streaked across his chest and shoulders. Bruises darkened beneath his skin despite his healing already trying to repair the damage. But he was alive. As the Kent farm finally came into view below him, something inside Clark loosened for the first time in what felt like forever. Home. The porch light was still on. Clark landed softly near the barn, the cool night air washing over him while the adrenaline from the battle finally started fading out of his system. Before he even reached the front steps, the farmhouse door burst open. Lana ran straight toward him. Clark barely had time to smile before she threw her arms around him hard enough to nearly knock him backward. He held onto her just as tightly. Neither said anything at first. They didn’t need to. Clark buried his face against her shoulder for a moment and simply breathed her in while Lana’s hands slid up into his hair like she still needed to reassure herself he was really standing there. “You came back,” she whispered finally. Clark laughed softly, exhausted but happy. “Told you I’d try.” Lana pulled back just enough to look at him, emotion all over her face. “You idiot.” Then she kissed him. Hard. Relief. Joy. Love. Everything they’d both been holding in since this nightmare began poured into it at once. Clark kissed her back with the same intensity, his hands wrapping around her waist and lifting her slightly off the ground as the farmhouse light spilled warmly across them. For the first time in days— The world felt okay again.

Far beneath Metropolis. Inside a hidden LuthorCorp facility. Machines hummed softly in the darkness. Electrical currents pulsed through massive silver conduits connected to a complex neural reconstruction chamber. Lex Luthor’s eyes suddenly shot open. He gasped sharply, breathing hard as fragmented memories slammed violently back into place. Images flashed through his mind in rapid succession. The Guardian. The blurred rescues. Clark disappearing. Heat vision. Strength. The farm. Smallville. Then finally— A face. Clear now. Undeniable. Lex sat upright abruptly inside the memory recall machine, sweat running down his face while realization consumed him entirely. His breathing became uneven. “…Clark.” Another memory hit him. The glasses. The disappearances. The lies. Lex’s eyes widened with almost manic understanding. “Clark…” A slow smile began creeping across his face. “…Kent.”

[neondreamscapes]

Smallville: A Different path book 2

Chapter 24 The battle for the world! - part 1

Chicago looked like the end of the world. Entire blocks burned beneath rolling walls of smoke while emergency sirens echoed endlessly between skyscrapers. The White Martian moved through the city like a plague given physical form, towering over streets choked with abandoned vehicles and panicked civilians. Every psychic scream it unleashed rippled outward like an invisible shockwave, and wherever that wave touched, reality itself seemed to rot. People weren’t just fleeing anymore. They were unraveling. A businessman stood barefoot in the middle of the street sobbing hysterically while trying to claw imaginary spiders from beneath his skin. A group of strangers had formed a circle around a fire hydrant, kneeling as if worshipping it while whispering nonsense to each other with vacant smiles. Two police officers beat each other bloody beside an overturned squad car because each had become convinced the other was an alien impostor. The White Martian didn’t merely destroy buildings. It infected minds. And the closer you got to it— The worse the nightmares became.

High above the city, the Daily Planet helicopter cut through the smoke-filled skyline. Lois leaned halfway out the side door with a camera in hand, filming the devastation below while the wind whipped violently through her hair. “My goodness…” Jimmy muttered from the pilot seat. The White Martian tore through another building several streets away, sending glass and steel raining onto fleeing crowds below. Lois kept filming. “This is bigger than any thing I've ever covered before,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “People need to see this.” Jimmy looked uneasy. “Lois, we’re already way closer than every other news chopper.” “That’s because every other news chopper is run by cowards.” “Or people with survival instincts.” Lois ignored him, zooming in tighter on the creature as it let out another psychic scream. The sound hit them almost instantly. Jimmy winced hard. “What the heck…” Lois froze. Suddenly the burning skyline outside the helicopter blurred. The smoke became cigarette haze. The city noises faded beneath muffled shouting. And just like that— She wasn’t in Chicago anymore. She was eight years old again. Rain hammered against old apartment windows while her father staggered drunkenly through the hallway screaming at her mother. Lois could hear bottles breaking. Her mother crying. The heavy footsteps getting closer. “Don’t you walk away from me!” Lois’s breathing became uneven. “No…” The helicopter dashboard blurred in front of her as tears filled her eyes. “You promised you wouldn’t leave us…” Her father struck her mother across the face in the hallucination and Lois snapped. “STOP IT!” She slammed her fist against the helicopter dashboard repeatedly, panic overtaking reason. Warning alarms instantly erupted throughout the cockpit. “Lois!” Jimmy shouted. But Jimmy barely looked real anymore either. The psychic distortion had reached him too. Suddenly the world around him shifted into flickering black and white. Jazz music played faintly somewhere in the distance. The smoke outside transformed into old noir-style fog rolling through city streets. Jimmy blinked rapidly. “…Whoa.” Lois looked toward him desperately through tears. And Jimmy no longer saw Lois Lane. He saw a damsel in distress from some old detective movie. A beautiful woman trapped in danger while the brave hero rushed to save her. Jimmy dramatically grabbed her shoulders. “Don’t worry sweetheart, Johnny Olsen’s on the case!” “Jimmy what are you doing?!” “You stay calm now, see? We’re gonna get outta this jam together.” “JIMMY THE CONTROLS!” Jimmy looked downward. His hands weren’t on them anymore. The helicopter tilted violently sideways. Both of them screamed. The aircraft clipped the side of a building, spinning wildly out of control while sparks and debris exploded across the skyline. Then it disappeared between the buildings below. A massive fireball erupted moments later.

Elsewhere across the city, Clark flew through the night carrying an enormous steel container suspended beneath him by thick reinforced cables. Inside it— Oliver’s bombs. All nine thermobaric devices packed tightly together into one massive payload. The sheer weight would’ve crushed a normal aircraft instantly, but Clark pushed forward through the air anyway, his jacket snapping violently behind him while smoke and fire illuminated the clouds around Chicago. Below him, the White Martian continued its march through the city. Clark could hear the psychic chaos spreading block by block. A mother screaming because she believed her child had vanished when he was still standing right beside her. Firefighters turning hoses on each other while hallucinating giant insects crawling across their skin. A priest standing atop a wrecked bus proclaiming the end times while crowds gathered around him in terrified prayer. Every minute the creature remained alive, society itself bent further out of shape. Oliver’s voice suddenly crackled through Clark’s communicator. “Clark, I reran the numbers.” Clark’s expression tightened immediately. “That tone usually means bad news.” “It is.” Static buzzed briefly. “I compared the creature’s healing factor against the damage output from the last bomb.” Clark flew lower toward the abandoned mineshaft outside the city limits. “And?” Oliver hesitated. “The nine bombs might not be enough.” Clark’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“The thing’s density is off the charts. Combined with that healing factor…” Oliver exhaled sharply. “Even if the blast tears it apart initially, there’s a chance it regenerates.” Clark landed hard outside the massive abandoned mining entrance, the container of bombs slamming against the earth behind him with a thunderous impact. “What kind of chance?” “I don’t know.” Not the answer Clark wanted. The White Martian screamed again somewhere far behind him. Even from miles away, Clark could hear people crying out in terror afterward. He looked down at the bombs. Thinking. Then slowly— An idea formed. Clark looked back toward the burning skyline. “I think I know how to boost the yield.” Oliver paused. “How?” Clark’s eyes lifted toward the city again. Toward the fires. Toward the monster. “We make it hotter.”

“It's not just the pressure of these bomb's which hurt it Oliver, Martian's have a unique weakness to fire. The white one's seemingly less than the green ones but it's still there. that's why it's flesh is still scared from the intense heat it was subjected to earlier. it can't fully heal from it. This has to work, at least I think it will”

“Hey, I'm not expert on alien physiology Clark, but if you say so do what you have to do. If this thing really is from Mars I can only imagine being on a colder planet with less pressure would make them suspectable to both rapid pressure changes and heat so you're probably right.”

Clark dropped from the sky like a missile onto the grounds of an oil refinery several miles outside Chicago. Workers had already evacuated. Sirens echoed across the empty industrial complex while flames from distant parts of the city reflected off towering steel structures and pipelines. Clark’s boots slammed into the pavement hard enough to crack it. He spotted the largest gasoline storage tank immediately. Massive. Cylindrical. Thousands upon thousands of gallons. Perfect. Clark wrapped both arms around the enormous structure and strained. Steel groaned violently as bolts snapped free one after another. The entire tank tore loose from its foundation with a deafening shriek of metal. Then Clark flew. The massive tank hung beneath him as he streaked back toward the abandoned mineshaft outside the city. Wind screamed around him while gasoline sloshed violently inside the container. Below him Chicago continued to descend into madness. The White Martian moved through downtown like a living god of chaos, psychic shrieks rippling outward through entire districts. Civilians wandered the streets in terrified delirium. Some curled into fetal positions beneath flickering streetlights whispering to dead relatives only they could see. Others became violently paranoid, smashing storefront windows and attacking strangers in blind panic. One man stood atop a taxi cab laughing hysterically while flames consumed the building behind him. Another calmly walked into an active gunfight between hallucinating police officers because he believed he was invisible. The White Martian’s influence twisted fear into insanity. And it spread faster every minute. Clark reached the mineshaft. With one violent motion he hurled the gasoline tank downward. The massive container smashed against the lower tunnels and ruptured instantly. Gasoline exploded through the shaft system like a flood, soaking the walls, tunnels, and the thermobaric payload Oliver had positioned below. Clark landed at the edge of the opening and stared down into the darkness. “Good,” he muttered. “If this thing burns…” His communicator crackled. A military voice this time. Cold. Professional. “Confirmed launch.” Far away at an undisclosed military installation, a stealth jet screamed into the night sky. Deep within its payload chamber rested a one megaton nuclear warhead. ETA TO TARGET: 20 MINUTES.

[sakuraonlyfans]

CLARK KENT & LANA LANG Smallville 2×19 (Precipice)