Thump!
Adrian landed on the ground, frowning as he stared at the massive figure before him—Solomon Grundy.
After his skirmish with Wonder Woman, Adrian had no choice but to retreat early. With four powerful adversaries closing in, and Zatanna's sharp, magical gaze fixed on him, staying would have been reckless. Though he hadn't been seriously injured, his clothes were shredded, forcing him to head home first to change before picking up his parents and bringing them to Kent Farm.
On the way, Adrian sensed someone trailing him. Parking at Kent Farm, he strode into the deserted woods alone. Solomon Grundy, who had previously begged for mercy after Adrian's overwhelming attack, emerged from hiding immediately.
Adrian regarded the hulking creature coldly. "Why are you following me?"
"Master… Master!" Grundy stammered, struggling to convey something.
Adrian's eyes narrowed. He wants to call me master? Because I beat him?
"Master, huh? Is that a title you just hand out casually?" Adrian shook his head, turning to leave. For someone even remotely human, he might have felt a hint of empathy. But for this lumbering, grotesque zombie-like thing, he had none.
As Adrian moved, Grundy lumbered after him.
Zzzzt!
A beam of Heat Vision shot from Adrian's eyes, striking Grundy's shoulder and sending him crashing to the ground. The thud rattled through the trees.
"If you follow me again, you die," Adrian said, his tone icy, his crimson eyes glowing.
Sensing the lethal intent, Grundy shrank back, fear overtaking his confusion. He dared not pursue further.
Satisfied, Adrian left the woods and returned to Kent Farm. Clark stood by the door, waiting.
"Adrian!" Clark called as he approached. "Is the Blue Valley situation resolved?"
Adrian glanced at him. "Hmm, handled. Mostly."
Clark touched the fence of the cattle pen, his expression troubled. "I know you took care of most of it. The Injustice Society's underground base… the people there… that was you." He paused, realizing how harsh "killed" would sound, and changed it. "Handled it."
"Was it important that you know?" Adrian asked, his tone calm, almost dismissive.
Clark shook his head. "Not exactly… but I still want to thank you. You saved Smallville, Blue Valley, Metropolis… if you hadn't intervened, countless people would have been hurt."
Watching the bull in the pen, Clark's gaze softened, tinged with frustration. "Sometimes, I feel powerless. I aim to accomplish great things, yet the results never match my hopes. Like stopping the Injustice Society… I tried, yet you still saved the day. Maybe I'm not meant to be… noticed."
Adrian raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised. Superman feeling uncertain? Interesting.
He chose his words carefully. "Clark, if you feel bad for leading others and not achieving enough, don't. No one cares about appearances or expectations."
"Really?" Clark leaned against the fence, eyes on the calves. "I feel I should be able to do more."
Adrian shook his head. "Clark, obsessing over what you should have done only brings regret. Never compare yourself to others—you're already exceptional. And next time, if your mind spirals like this, see a professional. I'm not interested in being your therapist."
Clark watched Adrian retreat, a surge of regret rising. Did I just make him think I was blaming him? He turned back to the calves, feeling deflated, tongue-tied once again.
Meanwhile, Adrian frowned slightly. Icicle's thoughts still resonated within him. He hoped Clark would never adopt such destructive ideas. Destroying cities like Metropolis and Gotham… that path should remain alien to him.
Talon Club
Lana exhaled in relief, seeing her Aunt Nell return to normal.
"That's good, Aunt Nell. You're okay."
Hugging her, tears welled in Lana's eyes. "You stood here the entire time since the first table paid their bill. No matter how much I called, you wouldn't wake."
"Really?" Nell blinked. "I just stood there? Didn't move?"
"You didn't move. Just staring at the customers," Lana replied, wiping tears. "I couldn't wake you."
Nell walked to the bookshelf and pulled out a book. She flipped to a page depicting a grotesque, terrifying entity against a starry sky.
"I just saw something like this—so real that I felt it existed. One glance and fear consumes you."
Lana tilted her head. "This is Adrian's book, right? Aren't these mostly fictional?"
"Yes, but what I saw overlapped with it almost perfectly. Too real to ignore."
Nell rubbed her head. "Perhaps Adrian, like Van Gogh, sees universes we cannot. Strange, vast, and intricate."
"Ha, Adrian isn't crazy," Lana said, smiling softly.
Chloe, at the coffee lounge, sipped a latte from Lana's hand. "I don't think he can be compared to Van Gogh. Neil's mysticism might exaggerate things. Still, Adrian's books will spark a new wave of discussion."
Lana nodded. "The TV shows are reporting something odd."
Chloe turned to the screen. "The National Weather Center reports an earthquake affecting Metropolis and Kansas. A weather satellite malfunctioned, debris falling near Metropolis."
Lana frowned. "What does a satellite have to do with adults frozen in place?"
Chloe shrugged. "Maybe the adults were staring at the falling satellite."
Lana rolled her eyes. "Stupid. Adults acting frozen is probably one story covering another bigger one."
Chloe sipped her coffee. "I'll investigate further for The Torch. Could be an exclusive."
Lana glanced at the entrance. "Customer arriving. I need to work."
Chloe opened her notebook, pen ready, scribbling observations.
Kent Farm
Adrian doodled casually, sketching on paper. Unlike Chloe, he wasn't chasing news—he was noting patterns and details. Those glimpses of dark entities through Brainwave's influence were insignificant. Moreover, he had planted thoughts in the minds of the affected; leaks were impossible.
Late at night, silence reigned.
Martha awoke to a noise outside. Her pregnancy left her sensitive to disturbances.
Jonathan stirred. "Doesn't sound like a thief."
"The barn—the one where the spaceship was hidden. Could it have returned?" Martha asked nervously.
Jonathan decided to investigate. "You stay here. Don't go out."
"Should we wake Adrian and Clark?" Martha asked.
"No need." Jonathan got dressed, stepping into the night. "If the ship returned, we settle this tonight."
Outside, he saw Adrian waiting.
"Eric?" Jonathan blinked.
"I'll go with you, Dad."
"You heard it too?"
"Yes." Adrian had sensed the noise and already seen into the cellar using X-ray vision.
"Or maybe I should go alone."
Jonathan placed a reassuring hand on Adrian's shoulder. "No matter how extraordinary you are, you're still my son. You'll be protected."
Together, they descended, shotguns ready.
A blast of cold air hit them as they reached the barn.
Grunts echoed from the cellar below. The ground trembled.
Adrian exchanged a glance with his father, then moved to the cellar stairs.
"I warned you. Step close again, and I'll kill you!" Adrian's crimson eyes glowed as he fixed his gaze on the dark figure below—Solomon Grundy.