Wayne Manor
Clark remained invisible in the center of the old living room. The air smelled of dust and broken memories. Not even insects dared to fill the space.
Alfred's body, motionless, still held a strange dignity. The Joker, on the other hand, was pure ruin, his facial bones crushed, his smile reduced to wreckage.
The scene didn't make sense. But the silence did.
Clark moved slowly along the room's edge, his invisible footsteps leaving no mark, though his presence stirred the space.
He activated his X-ray vision again, searching for any trace he might have missed. But there was nothing.
No hidden devices. No concealed bodies. No energy signatures.
And most importantly: no sign of Bruce.
'What kind of messed-up universe is this… a killer Batman is the last thing I needed.'
The thought echoed like internal thunder.
Clark inhaled slowly. He didn't need to, but the act felt human.
'It's better to head back to Smallville.'
He knew he wouldn't solve anything here. Not without revealing his identity. Not without being sure he'd find Bruce. And now, neither the crystal nor the vigilante were where they should be.
A fragment of the world had fallen, and he had no idea where the next piece was.
Clark rose to the second floor's height, passed through the roof silently, and once again vanished into the lightening sky.
The sky over Gotham receded, swallowed by the dawn's mist.
Clark flew in a straight line, cutting through the air with absolute precision. The light from the east began to rise on the horizon, tinting the lower clouds with a pale orange hue.
The high-altitude wind made no sound against him. The city, with its buried secrets, shrank with every second. But the weight in Clark's chest didn't fade.
He knew he couldn't keep going alone. The world was changing too fast. Threats emerged from impossible angles, and the crystal's trails revealed more than lost artifacts, they showed shifts in the very rules.
'Jor-El was right. Diana is a warrior. And I can't shield her from what she was born to face.'
The decision solidified with the rising sun.
Clark maintained his flight, invisible to the world, but more transparent with himself than he'd been in a long time.
This time, he wouldn't hide anything.
---
The sky over Smallville was still gray when Clark broke through the last set of clouds and slowed his descent. The open fields around the town were bathed in soft light. The crops greeted the new day in silence. The house in the distance, his home, seemed small compared to what he'd just seen.
Clark landed soundlessly, remaining invisible until his feet touched the ground. The wind gently swayed the leaves in the yard. The calm was real. But inside him, everything was still spinning.
He walked to the porch unhurriedly. His body felt intact, but his mind was still processing the images from Wayne Manor. The bodies. The total absence of traces. Bruce's transformation.
He deactivated his invisibility with a subtle internal shift. The Martian energy receded like a cloak being withdrawn.
The front door was slightly ajar.
The smell of fresh coffee wafted outside.
Clark took a deep breath.
The kitchen was lit by morning light. The wooden table held freshly cut bread, a bowl of fruit, and three steaming mugs. Tina laughed at something Kyla had just said, while Diana sipped her coffee with a serene gaze, watching them with a subtle smile.
All three stopped at once when they noticed his presence in the doorway.
Diana tilted her head.
"You left in the middle of the night, Clark. I thought you'd be back before sunrise."
Clark didn't answer immediately. His eyes swept over the three, and for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel the need to pretend everything was under control.
He simply walked to the table and pulled out a chair. He didn't sit yet.
"We need to talk."
Tina set her mug down slowly. She glanced at Kyla, who was still holding a butter-smeared knife.
"Come with me for a sec? We forgot to put away yesterday's dishes."
Kyla caught the tone instantly. She stood with a small wave, passed by Diana, and followed Tina out of the kitchen.
The silence that remained wasn't uncomfortable, but it was dense.
Clark stood for a moment, then sat slowly.
Diana twirled her mug between her fingers, not looking directly at him. Her expression was calm, but her eyes held firmness.
"Clark… I know what I said last night. But if you can't tell me, you don't have to force yourself."
Her voice was low, honest. There was no demand, just space.
Clark rested his forearms on the table, holding her gaze for a moment.
The weight of the past hours still lingered on his face, but something in his eyes was clearer now. More open.
He exhaled slowly, as if each word needed careful measure.
Clark held her gaze for a few seconds, then smiled.
It wasn't a wide or light smile, but it was sincere. Almost relief.
"Thank you for being who you are."
His voice was low, steady, with gratitude woven into the undertones.
"I'm not forcing myself to tell you…"
He tilted his head slightly, searching for the right word.
"…I'm choosing to."
Diana didn't respond immediately. She just nodded subtly, her eyes still locked on his. There was respect there. And camaraderie.
Clark pulled the chair closer and finally sat.
The wood creaked faintly under his weight, but the silence that followed was comfortable, dense but without pressure.
His fingers rested on the table, interlaced. His eyes returned to Diana.
"Last night, I went to a city called Gotham."
He took a deep breath, not hiding the weight of the memory.
"I was following the trail of something important. A crystal. One of the ones I've been searching for."
The words came steadily, unhurried. He was no longer trying to conceal, just organize.
"The signal vanished. And where it was supposed to be… I found two bodies. An older man, seemed like someone trusted in that house. And another… different. Heavy makeup, clothes soaked in blood. His face… destroyed."
Clark looked away for a moment, as if the memory were still too fresh.
"I don't know what happened there. But it wasn't just a fight. It was personal. Intense. And all of it tied to an energy that just… vanished."
He met her gaze again.
"And it was in that place, surrounded by silence and absence, that I realized something."
Clark took another deep breath.
"I can't keep pretending I can handle everything alone."
His voice didn't waver, but it carried raw truth.
He looked at Diana with resolve, unwavering.
"I thought I was protecting you… but maybe I was just protecting myself from the idea of losing you."
The words came easier now. As if her presence, listening, made the weight lighter.
"You've faced gods, Diana. You helped me take down Ares. I know what you're capable of. But what I might have to face now… could be worse."
Clark leaned back in the chair, his eyes slightly lowered, as if measuring his own limits.
"Not because it's stronger. But because it's different. Subtler. Harder to define."
His fingertips brushed the table's edge, almost distractedly.
"If I have to see this through… I want to do it by your side. Not as someone who needs protecting. But as my equal."
Diana reached out without hesitation. Her fingers wrapped around his with calm strength, no urgency, but clear intent.
"Thank you for trusting me, Clark."
Her eyes didn't leave his for a second. There was strength in that gaze, and also lightness. As if the answer had always been there, waiting to be heard.
"Whatever's coming… we'll face it. Together."
Her touch wasn't just comfort. It was commitment.
In that moment, Clark no longer felt the weight of carrying everything alone. And for a brief second, the world around him seemed steadier.
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