Inside the Pentagon, tension lingered in the air like the calm before a violent storm.
General Sam Lane turned when he heard footsteps approaching from behind.
A tall Black officer in Air Force uniform walked toward him with measured confidence.
"General Swanwick."
General Lane studied the man carefully, his expression stern.
The officer approaching him was Lieutenant General Swanwick, Deputy Chief of Staff for Intelligence, Surveillance, Reconnaissance, and Cyber. In the military hierarchy, Swanwick held a position with authority that even exceeded Lane's own rank within the Army.
"I'm afraid you cannot leave right now," Swanwick said calmly.
"The Secretary of Defense and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff would prefer that you remain inside the Pentagon for the time being."
General Lane's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Without a presidential directive or formal documentation from the Department of Defense, you do not have the authority to issue me orders," Lane replied in a controlled voice. "You certainly do not have the authority to restrict my movement."
Swanwick nodded once.
"Of course, no one here intends to restrict your freedom, General Lane. However, there are certain matters where the Department of Defense requires your cooperation."
He paused, watching Lane carefully before continuing.
"For example, a counter terrorism operation that took place in Metropolis two years ago. The incident caused severe losses for both the state government and an Army Ranger unit. The forward command post was also destroyed during the operation."
Swanwick's words clearly referenced the military action that had been taken during the vampire incident involving Adrian.
At the time, Lane had suppressed much of the fallout with the help of Lionel Luthor. Still, such a large scale military deployment left traces. Once the federal government reopened the investigation, many irregularities surfaced.
"In any case," Swanwick said, his voice steady, "we require your cooperation regarding that incident."
Lane remained silent for several seconds.
Then he lifted his gaze and met Swanwick's eyes directly.
"I acted to defend the honor and security of this nation."
"We all did," Swanwick replied without hesitation.
The two generals held each other's gaze for a moment, neither willing to yield.
Far away from Washington, the city of Metropolis was experiencing a different kind of tension.
Inside the bustling newsroom of the Daily Planet, chaos filled the air.
Jimmy Olsen had only recently started working at the newspaper, and he already felt completely overwhelmed.
Earlier that day he had managed to obtain two tickets to the opera The Barber of Seville. His plan had been simple. He wanted to invite Chloe Sullivan, who worked part time at the Daily Planet while finishing her studies.
Unfortunately, a major breaking story had erupted across the city.
Now Jimmy sat at his desk surrounded by papers, desperately trying to craft an article that might catch the attention of his editors.
Chloe noticed the two opera tickets sitting on Jimmy's desk.
Holding a cup of coffee, she glanced at them and smiled slightly.
"Count Almaviva falls in love with the wealthy and beautiful Rosina," Chloe said playfully, glancing at the ticket title. "But Rosina's greedy guardian Doctor Bartolo also wants to marry her, so the music teacher Basilio comes up with a scheme."
She raised an eyebrow at Jimmy.
"An old fashioned Romeo and Juliet style love story. I didn't expect you to be into something like that, Jimmy."
Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Well, I remember you mentioning once that you liked opera."
"A little," Chloe admitted. "But when I think about The Barber of Seville, I always remember the comedic version Charlie Chaplin performed. That one kind of ruined the serious version for me."
Jimmy laughed nervously, unsure what to say.
After another brief comment, Chloe turned and headed toward Lois Lane's office.
The moment she stepped inside, her expression changed.
"Did either Adrian or Clark answer their phones?" Chloe asked.
Lois shook her head immediately.
"No."
She was pacing across the office, her phone still in her hand.
"My dad just called me," Lois said, her voice tight with worry. "Something is very wrong."
"What did he say?" Chloe asked.
"He told me I need to leave Metropolis immediately."
Chloe frowned.
"Just leave?"
"There's more," Lois continued. "He said I need to go somewhere and retrieve something he left behind."
Chloe folded her arms thoughtfully.
"That sounds like a clue. Your father probably left you some kind of trail to follow."
"Exactly," Lois said, grabbing her coat. "Which means we need to move right now."
"Right now?" Chloe asked, hurrying after her as Lois left the office.
"What about Adrian and Clark? They're the ones being targeted by those aliens."
"Of course I'm worried about them," Lois replied while pulling on her trench coat. "But right now, I'm the daughter of General Lane. That means the government is probably watching me."
Chloe sighed as she followed her cousin through the newsroom.
"This is the first time I've ever experienced being watched by federal agents," Chloe muttered. "All thanks to having a cousin like you."
As they walked toward the exit, Chloe lowered her voice.
"What do you think the government will do? Turn Adrian and Clark over to the aliens, or prepare for war?"
Lois gave a humorless laugh.
"With the politicians running Washington, I've learned not to expect the right decision."
As they passed Jimmy's desk, he looked up quickly.
"Hey, Lois, Chloe. Are you heading out for an interview?"
"Not exactly," Chloe said, patting him on the shoulder as she walked past. "Just personal business. Kind of like how you enjoy operas most people wouldn't understand."
Jimmy blinked in confusion.
Before he could ask another question, both women were already gone.
Jimmy slowly removed his glasses and sighed.
"To be honest," he muttered to himself, "my interest in opera is pretty average."
Meanwhile, in Gotham City, another man was quietly studying the same unfolding crisis.
Deep beneath Wayne Manor, the Batcave glowed with the light of multiple screens.
Bruce Wayne stood in front of a large monitor while footage played across the display.
Television experts and political analysts were arguing fiercely about whether the United States government should surrender the two aliens, and speculation about their identities had already exploded across media channels.
Alfred Pennyworth approached silently, carrying a tray with a cup of coffee.
"Master Wayne."
Bruce accepted the cup without looking away from the screen.
"What do you think of these aliens?" Alfred asked.
Bruce shut down the current broadcast and brought up a different video.
The image that appeared showed an enormous alien spacecraft shaped like a massive metallic creature floating above Earth's atmosphere.
"My opinion doesn't matter," Bruce said quietly.
He took a sip of coffee while studying the image.
"If the world moved according to my will, I would not be fighting this battle alone."
Alfred understood what Bruce meant.
Despite years of fighting crime in Gotham, the situation had only grown worse. Criminals became more violent, more unpredictable.
One particular criminal had recently appeared who pushed Bruce both mentally and physically to his limits.
The Joker.
"Master Wayne," Alfred said gently, "you are not alone. I will always be here."
Bruce remained silent for a moment.
"Words like futile or alone do not mean I'm giving up," Bruce finally said. "They simply remind me that I am only human."
He paused, staring again at the alien ship.
"There are forces in this world far beyond my understanding. Adrian and Clark Kent are part of that mystery. Right now, I don't know how humanity should face them."
"Did you not once describe them as devils sealed in a bottle?" Alfred asked.
"Sometimes I still think that," Bruce admitted. "But sometimes I wonder if this world actually needs them."
He stood up and grabbed his coat.
"The real question is whether humanity is ready to accept gods."
Bruce began walking toward the cave's exit.
"Alfred, arrange my travel schedule. I'm going to Metropolis."
"Today?" Alfred asked. "You have a dinner meeting with the mayor tonight."
"Postpone it," Bruce said. "Dinners can happen again. But this situation in Metropolis may not give us another chance."
"Very well, Master Wayne," Alfred replied. "I will contact the mayor's office."
Far away from the cities, in the quiet countryside of Smallville, the setting sun cast long shadows across the Kent farm.
Clark Kent stood at the top of the old windmill tower, watching the horizon burn with fading light.
The twenty four hour ultimatum from the Kryptonian invaders was nearly over.
Clark's heart was still filled with doubt.
The windmill blades turned slowly in the evening wind. As they rotated, they sliced the sunlight into shifting patterns across the ground below.
This was the same tower where he and Adrian had first learned to fly one Christmas Eve.
Even now, Clark still liked to return here whenever he needed to think.
"You really like this place, don't you?"
A familiar voice spoke from behind him.
Clark turned.
Adrian stood several steps away.
"Yes," Clark said quietly. "Watching the sunset here helps me clear my mind."
Adrian studied him carefully.
"Then your mind must be pretty troubled right now."
Clark sighed.
"Maybe."
He looked directly at Adrian.
"I keep wondering if surrendering myself would stop a disaster from happening to Earth."
Adrian's eyes hardened slightly.
"You didn't even consider fighting them."
"Jor El told me that spaceship cannot be destroyed," Clark said, glancing back at the horizon. "If sacrificing myself could protect the planet, maybe that's a price worth paying."
He hesitated.
"But Zod cannot be trusted. And honestly, I'm not sure humanity can be trusted either."
Adrian remained silent for a long moment.
Then he spoke.
"This is another choice, Clark. You're always making choices."
His voice became colder.
"But this time, you don't get to choose."
Clark frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Adrian slowly opened a small lead box he was holding.
Inside it, a glowing green meteor rock began to shine.
Kryptonite.
The moment the green light touched Clark, his body collapsed.
A wave of weakness surged through him as if all strength had been ripped from his muscles.
Clark fell to the wooden platform of the windmill.
Even Adrian felt discomfort from standing so close to the kryptonite. His body instinctively resisted the radiation.
Still, he forced himself to toss the glowing rock closer to Clark before stepping back.
Clark gasped, clutching his chest.
Sweat ran down his forehead as he stared at Adrian in disbelief.
"Why… Adrian?"
His voice trembled.
"Why are you doing this?"
Adrian stepped farther away from the kryptonite's influence.
"It's simple," he said coldly. "I'm stopping you from surrendering."
Clark struggled to move but could barely lift his arm.
"You said it yourself. Zod cannot be trusted. Neither can humanity."
Adrian's expression remained calm.
"So lying here is the best option for you."
"No… Adrian…"
Clark tried to reach toward him, but the pain made even breathing difficult.
Adrian looked down at him one last time.
Then he activated his flight.
In an instant he shot upward into the sky, breaking the sound barrier with a thunderous boom as he disappeared into the clouds.
Clark lay helpless on the windmill platform.
Adrian's destination was Washington.
If the Kryptonian ship could not be destroyed from the outside, then the only option was to destroy it from the inside.
And the easiest way inside was to walk directly through the front door.
Adrian had already figured out how.
Clark struggled desperately.
Sweat soaked his clothes as he reached toward the kryptonite beside him.
Every inch closer sent waves of pain through his body.
Still, he forced his fingers forward.
Finally, after an agonizing effort, his hand touched the meteor rock.
With a roar of pain, Clark pushed it off the edge of the windmill.
The small stone felt as heavy as a mountain.
When it finally dropped to the ground below, Clark collapsed completely.
Several minutes later his strength slowly returned.
The first thing he did was race back to the farm.
Night had already fallen over Smallville.
The house was dark and silent.
Clark searched the area with his enhanced vision but could not find Adrian anywhere.
Then he noticed the television inside the living room was still on.
Clark stepped closer.
A live news broadcast was playing.
On the screen, a figure wearing a black cape descended slowly from the sky above Washington.
Clark froze.
The figure was Adrian.