"I'm not kidding, I already have my own blog," Lois said, lifting her chin with a smug little grin.
We were still standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city stretching out below us. By now, we had been talking for a while, completely ignoring the formal chatter filling the hall.
Selina had been glancing our way every now and then, but she was stuck talking to the Queen siblings, Oliver and Thea, which left us with a surprisingly quiet space to ourselves.
"Alright," I said with a small smile, "then tell me the address. I'll check it out when I get home."
"It's therealtruth.com," she said, clearly pleased. "Good name, right?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "It sounds… serious. And pretty catchy."
"Heh, I knew it," she said, looking far too satisfied with herself. "It doesn't get many views yet, but that's because people still use newspapers and TV for news."
She made a face.
"Which is dumb, by the way."
"The internet's going to grow a lot in the future," I said lightly. "So you're probably ahead of everyone else."
Her eyes immediately lit up.
"See? I told people that!" she said, pointing at me like I had just proven her case. "Nobody believes me. But obviously, they're wrong."
"Great minds think alike," she added, crossing her arms with a proud little huff.
"But," I countered, rubbing my chin as if thinking it through, "that still depends on how good your writing actually is."
She froze.
Then immediately narrowed her eyes at me.
"My writing is fine, thank you very much," she said defensively. "I do proper research. I go to the library, I check sources… I even look up big words so it sounds more professional."
The last part came out a little quieter, like she wasn't sure she should have admitted that.
I couldn't help but smile at how adorable she was looking right now.
"Don't laugh at me," she said quickly, puffing her cheeks a little. "I'm serious about journalism."
"Just yesterday I finished an article—" she lifted her chin again, "—'Why Superheroes Should Be a Government Job.'"
I raised an eyebrow.
"Isn't that a bit… advanced for you? What made you even think about something like that?"
"Heh," she smirked, clearly pleased with herself. "Japan."
"Because of my mom's job, we stayed there for a few months. And over there, heroes actually have agencies. They're registered, supervised… basically like government workers who get paid to do hero stuff."
"I didn't know that," I admitted, a little surprised.
"Yeah, and their crime rate is way lower," she said, getting more animated. "So while I was there, I collected data, watched how things worked… I even tried interviewing some heroes."
She placed a hand over her chest proudly.
"It took a lot of effort, okay? But the article turned out really good."
"Sounds impressive," I said with a grin. "I'm looking forward to reading it."
"Thanks, Smallville," she said, smiling—then suddenly leaned in a bit, her voice dropping.
"But don't tell my mom about any of this," she added quickly. "She has no idea. If she finds out, I'm 100% getting shipped off to some boarding school."
"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me," I said with a grin. "So you like writing about heroes and metahumans? Is that why you're here today with your mom?"
"Nah," she scoffed. "My mom basically dragged me here. We're new to the city, and apparently we're not leaving anytime soon, so she wants me to…" she made little air quotes with her fingers, "…'socialize.'"
"Well, I'm glad you came," I said lightly. "Otherwise I'd have to 'socialize' all by myself."
She huffed, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips.
"…Yeah. I'm glad too," she muttered, quickly taking a sip of her juice to hide her face.
"What was that?" I asked, pretending not to hear.
"Nothing," she said a bit too quickly, turning toward the window. "I was just saying—Metropolis is actually kind of amazing."
She gestured outward.
"Look at all those buildings. I could probably write an article just about the city itself."
"Yeah," I said, following her gaze. "That would be interesting."
"Like—look at that," she said, pointing ahead. "The World Trade Center. The Twin Towers."
Her voice picked up a bit, slipping into that excited, almost reporter-like tone again.
"They're some of the tallest buildings in the world. Everyone knows them. They're like… a symbol of financial power—not just for Metropolis, but for the whole country."
Just as she pointed them out, my eyes locked onto the towers—
—and widened.
Lara's voice had cut in, sharp and urgent in my ear.
"Kal—"
"Did you know they were originally planned for New York, but then moved to Metropolis? I could totally write something about—"
I cut her off quickly.
"Sorry, Lois—I need to use the bathroom," I said, forcing a small, apologetic smile. "I'll be back soon."
"Uh… okay? When you've gotta go, you've gotta go—"
I didn't wait for her to finish.
I was already moving.
I slipped out of the hall, took the stairs two at a time, and the moment I was out of sight of the cameras—
I bolted.
In the next instant, I was on the rooftop.
The wind hit me as I stepped toward the ledge overlooking the city.
"Are you sure, Lara?" I asked, my voice low.
"Jor-El was the one who contacted me," she replied, just as serious. "But you can confirm it yourself."
A translucent arrow appeared in my vision, numbers beside it rapidly ticking down.
I followed its direction and pushed my vision outward.
Past the nearby buildings.
Past the city skyline.
Further—
Until it locked onto a distant shape cutting through the clouds.
An aircraft.
"I…" I muttered, my expression going still.
"I can see it."
"The aircraft is a Boeing 767," Lara continued. "It was scheduled to fly from Boston to Los Angeles, but its route has been altered and all communications have been cut. Approximately one minute ago, a passenger managed to contact authorities and report a hijacking."
My gaze stayed fixed on the plane.
"B-but we already passed September 11th…" I muttered blankly. "Today's the 14th… why is it still happening?"
"There are approximately one hundred passengers onboard," she went on. "Estimated mass: one hundred and fifty tons. Current speed: roughly four hundred kilometers per hour. At this trajectory, it will impact the northern tower in approximately three minutes."
"Hah… haah…"
My breathing started to hitch.
"Kal?" Lara's voice sharpened instantly. "Kal, are you listening to me?"
"I—I can't breathe properly…" I said, stepping back from the ledge. My fingers fumbled as I unbuttoned my shirt, exposing the blue suit beneath. "Wh-what's happening to me…?"
I braced a hand against the wall, my vision swimming slightly.
"Your elevated heart rate and pupil dilation indicate you are experiencing a panic attack," Lara said, her voice laced with concern.
"Wha…?" I let out a shaky breath, my legs giving way as I slid down against the wall. "C-can Kryptonians even… have that…?"
The blue suit across my chest dissolved into fine red particles, scattering outward before gathering again—
Lara formed in front of me.
She dropped to her knees immediately, both hands coming up to cup my face, her touch warm and steady.
"It's alright, my son," she whispered, pulling me gently against her. "It's perfectly fine to feel scared."
She held me close, my face pressed against her warm breasts as her fingers moved softly through my hair.
"You are still only nine Earth years old," she murmured. "On Krypton, you would be studying… making friends… living the kind of life a child is meant to live."
Her voice was soft, soothing—like nothing in the world could touch me as long as she was there.
"You shouldn't have to face something like this," she continued, her hand resting against the back of my head. "Not at this age."
My breathing slowly began to steady.
"We can go back," she said gently, leaning back just enough to look at me, her blue eyes filled with warmth. "Back to the farm. Martha was missing you, wasn't she?"
A faint smile touched her lips.
"I can make one of your favorite meals. You can rest… forget about all of this for a while."
For a moment—
It sounded perfect.
"B-but that plane…" I looked up at her, my eyes wide, my chest tightening again. "It's going to crash… all those people…"
The softness in her expression lingered—
—but something else settled beneath it.
Firm. Unyielding.
"You don't owe them anything, Kal," she said quietly.
Her thumb brushed against my cheek, but her gaze had turned steady.
"None of those people know you. None of them are yours. Their world… their conflicts… their failures—those are not your burden to carry."
My breath caught.
"Why should you risk your life for them?" she asked softly, though the weight behind her words pressed down on me. "Why should you be the one to bear that cost?"
"No… th-that's not right…" I muttered, shaking my head.
Her hands tightened slightly on my shoulders.
"You are not one of them," she said, her voice growing firmer. "They are not your people."
There was no cruelty in her tone.
Only certainty.
"They hurt each other. They destroy their own world again and again—for power, for greed, for things that do not matter. Hundreds of thousands of them die every hour… killing each other for reasons that change with time, but never in nature. They are still trapped in a primitive cycle of conflict over resources."
Her eyes held mine.
"But you…" she said more quietly, her voice softening again, "you are kind. You are good."
Her hand rose, brushing my hair back.
"And because of that, you feel responsible."
She smiled gently.
"But you are not."
Her voice softened—but her words did not.
"Let them handle their own world, Kal. Protect what is yours. Protect the people who truly matter to you."
Her words echoed in my mind—
clear, logical…
and yet—
something in me pushed back.
Lara had already drawn a clear line between me and this world.
But she didn't know—
I have lived here on this Earth once.
Before all of this.
Before Krypton.
Before these powers.
Even if my body now belonged to Krypton…
my soul didn't.
I had been human.
I understood them.
Their fear. Their mistakes. Their struggles.
Which meant—
even if this wasn't my original world…
even if they weren't "my people" by blood—
I couldn't look away.
"Thank you… Mother," I said quietly as I stepped out of her embrace and rose to my feet.
My hands clenched at my sides.
"But this is my world now."
I looked out toward the distant sky—
toward the plane.
"And those are my people."
My voice steadied.
"I have to save them."
"But you were just afraid moments ago," she said, a trace of confusion in her voice. "Will you truly be able to save them in this state?"
"I have to," I replied, drawing in a slow breath. "Fear… doesn't change what needs to be done."
For a brief moment, a thought crossed my mind—
of what he would have done.
The symbol. The ideal.
The man I had read about, watched, admired.
He wouldn't have stopped.
Not here.
Not ever.
And neither would I.
"Then, as your mother, it is my duty to help you achieve what you desire," she said softly.
Her form dissolved into red particles, flowing back over me—
the blue suit reformed around my body, the red cape settling behind me.
"Go forth, my child," her voice echoed gently in my ear. "I believe in you."
"Thank you… Mother," I muttered, my hand resting briefly over the 'S' on my chest.
A translucent overlay spread across my vision—flight path, velocity, impact point.
90 seconds.
I exhaled once—
and moved.
The rooftop shattered beneath my feet as I launched forward, the air cracking around me.
Metropolis blurred beneath me.
The wind roared past my ears.
The sky stretched open before me—
And for the first time—
I wasn't flying to train.
I wasn't flying to push myself.
I was flying to save lives.