A sudden thud echoed from upstairs.
Adrian and Jonathan looked up just in time to see Clark collapsed near the stair landing.
Both men rushed over, lifting Clark carefully.
"His body's burning up," Jonathan muttered, his brows drawn tight as he supported Clark's weight.
"When I tried to activate the spaceship, the same thing happened as it did with Mom. A strong light burst out—it hit both me and Clark. Maybe it affected him more than me," Adrian explained, his tone low but steady.
Jonathan's jaw tightened. "That's the last thing we needed."
He motioned for Adrian to help him move Clark onto the sofa. "Adrian, are you feeling anything strange yourself?"
"Not really—just… weak."
Adrian shook his head. "Clark's in bad shape, though. He told me earlier he thought he'd lost his powers."
Jonathan exhaled sharply. "Stay with him. I'll call Doctor Helen."
He hurried toward the living room to make the call.
---
About ten minutes later, Doctor Helen Bryce arrived at the Kent farm.
Dressed in casual clothes and carrying her medical bag, she stepped through the door and immediately asked, "What happened?"
"Clark was exposed to the same energy that affected his mother," Jonathan replied grimly.
Helen nodded, already taking out her stethoscope as she knelt beside Clark, who was lying motionless on the couch.
"You should call an ambulance," she said quickly. "Clark needs a full medical evaluation right now. I'll also have to alert the Disease Control Bureau."
"I don't think that's a good idea," Adrian interjected quietly, standing nearby.
Jonathan glanced at his younger son, then nodded in agreement.
"I'm sorry, Doctor Helen," Jonathan said firmly. "But Clark can't go to the hospital."
Helen frowned. "Why not? He needs medical care."
"Doctor Helen, I need your word that what you see here never leaves this room. No one can know."
"Mr. Kent," she replied evenly, "I always protect my patients' privacy. But you're asking me to ignore procedure, and that could cost him his life."
She tied a rubber band around Clark's arm and prepared a syringe.
Jonathan's expression darkened. "You don't understand. Clark isn't… like other boys."
"I don't care what kind of boy he is," Helen said, focused on her work. "If I don't act now, he could die."
Before Jonathan could stop her, the needle pierced Clark's skin.
Jonathan froze. The syringe slid in effortlessly—Clark's skin hadn't resisted at all.
His heart sank. Had Clark really lost his powers?
Taking a steadying breath, Jonathan crouched beside her. "Doctor Helen… I need you to promise me you'll handle that blood sample yourself. Don't send it to any lab. Examine it personally. Once you see it under the microscope, you'll understand why."
Helen hesitated, caught off guard by his serious tone. After a moment, she nodded.
---
When she finally left, Adrian turned toward his father. "You shouldn't have let her take that sample."
"I know."
Jonathan sighed, tucking the blanket around Clark's shoulders. "But if there's even the smallest chance she can help, we have to take it."
He looked up at Adrian, studying him closely. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Adrian gave a faint smile. "Maybe I just got lucky. You know how my body reacts to meteor fragments—I might have built some kind of resistance to whatever that energy was."
Jonathan nodded thoughtfully. "That could be true. You've always been different, son."
There was pride in his voice, but also unease. Adrian had always seemed unbreakable.
Still, the thought of both Martha and Clark weakened like this tore at him.
Adrian's gaze turned toward the barn. "If I bring the ship closer, maybe it could help. Its energy might heal Clark—or even Mom."
Jonathan frowned. "You think that's possible?"
"I don't know," Adrian admitted. "But Mom believed that ship's energy gave her the strength to carry Clark in the first place. Maybe it can give her strength again."
He stepped toward the door. "I'll be right back."
---
By the next morning, before the sun even rose, Adrian spent the night trying to reactivate the Kryptonian Ship, but no matter what he did, the craft remained lifeless.
Jonathan, looking worn from a sleepless night, came down and placed a hand on his son's shoulder.
"You've done enough, Adrian. Get some rest."
"I can't," Adrian murmured, pressing his fingers against his temples. "It's strange. I keep getting flashes of old memories… Mom, when I was in second grade. I hated the cafeteria food, so she'd bring burritos, beef and potatoes—every day. I thought I was strong back then. But right now… I feel like the weakest person alive."
Jonathan smiled faintly and ruffled his son's hair. "You've always made us proud, Adrian. You and Clark both."
Adrian nodded silently and stood, walking toward the door for some air.
But his eyes caught on the newspaper lying on the table.
Headlines leapt out—"Blue Valley", "Starlight", and a phot
ograph of a golden Staff, glowing faintly in the image.
Something about it tugged at Adrian's memory.