[Third Person's PoV]
"Clark?" Momo called out, her voice echoing slightly as she waited, growing uneasy by the silence. The shed remained still, and the lack of movement stirred her concern. There was no answer. No footsteps. No reply.
Then, in a sudden flash, a brilliant white streak slashed across the air, a red trail whipping behind it like a ribbon in a storm. Momo gasped as the blur began to circle around her rapidly, a tornado of red dust spiraling from the movement of Clark's cape. It kicked up into a pillar around her, encasing her in a glowing whirl of energy before vanishing upward in a sharp ascent.
"Clark! What the hell are you doing?!" Momo shouted, shielding her eyes from the red sand kicked up into the air. The wind howled around her before dissipating.
At that moment, Seiko stepped calmly out from the shed, her expression unreadable. Without a word, she walked over and gently placed a reassuring hand on Momo's shoulder.
Startled, Momo lowered her arms and turned to look at her grandmother. Seiko gave her a soft smile, then silently lifted her hand, pointing toward the sky.
Momo frowned, confused. "What is it—?" she started to ask, but her voice caught in her throat as she turned to follow Seiko's gesture.
Her breath hitched.
There, blocking out the sun, stood a figure suspended high in the air. The golden rays flared out behind him, framing him in a divine light. He hovered with poise and grace, his silhouette framed in white and red. His suit shimmered like polished ivory, radiating purity and strength, while his crimson cape billowed in the thin winds, scattering red dust like stardust.
His bracers and boots pulsed with an internal glow, energy flickering like flames. His dark hair floated weightlessly, gently dancing in the breeze of his ascent.
"C-Clark…?" Momo whispered, disbelief catching in her voice.
"No," came the reply, firm yet calm. "Not while I'm dressed like this."
She stared up at him, speechless, heart pounding as she struggled to make sense of the moment.
"Then… what do I call you?" she asked softly, still unable to look away.
Clark chuckled, a sound filled with humility and surreal confidence. His lips curled into a smirk, and his bright blue eyes glinted with conviction as he gave her the answer.
"Call me Superman."
And with that, he turned toward the horizon, his cape snapping like a flag in the wind. A sharp crack split the air as he launched forward, breaking the sound barrier and leaving a crimson streak blazing across the sky.
"..."
Momo stood frozen, mouth slightly open in awe. Then the spell broke.
"WELL, SUPERMAN, YOU FORGOT TO CLEAN UP THE MESS YOU MADE!!" she screamed, shaking a fist up at the sky. "DON'T THINK I'M GOING TO FORGIVE YOU JUST BECAUSE YOU LOOK COOL!"
Far off in the distance, Clark laughed. Even at that altitude, he could still hear her — somehow, her voice cut through the air like an arrow.
The laughter faded as the wind rushed past his face. He closed his eyes, soaking in the freedom, the warmth of the sun, the weightlessness of the sky. He angled upward and soared higher, breaking through the final layers of the atmosphere until he was surrounded by the stillness of space.
Suspended above the Earth, Clark opened his arms wide, allowing the sun's unfiltered radiation to flood into him. He could feel every pore, every molecule of his body drinking in the energy like a starving fire being fed. His white suit shimmered brighter, and the red of his cape flowed forward, floating eerily in the absence of gravity.
He slowly rotated his body, now facing the 3rd planet from the sun, his face held a complicated expression as he simply stared at the planet before him.
"Master, may I ask…" came the familiar voice of Sol, breaking the silence. "What are you thinking about?"
Clark remained quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on the beautiful blue-green marble below.
"How I'm about to give up my freedom," he finally replied. "And become a slave to the planet in front of me."
Sol hesitated, trying to process the gravity of the words. "Isn't that just a matter of perception? You're not becoming a slave. You're becoming something more, you're becoming a savior… a healer."
Clark gave a small, bitter smile.
"Decorate the chain around your neck all you want, it doesn't change the fact it's a collar nor that you are bound to it" Clark said flatly.
Again, Sol was silent, computing the best response. Then, attempting to ease the mood with what he'd learned was "humor," he said: "But it would be a beautiful collar… if it's decorated, wouldn't it?"
Clark let out a snort of amusement, shaking his head slowly. "I suppose it would," he said softly. Then, almost to himself, "Which begs a different question… when does a decorated collar become simply a necklace?"
"I don't believe that's a question my systems were designed to answer," Sol replied with caution.
"No," Clark said, eyes still fixed on Earth. "I suppose that's an answer I have to find on my own."
He took in a breath, instinctively, despite there being no air. It was more a habit — a symbol of calming his mind. The sun's energy coursed through him like electricity through wire.
Then, his voice firm again, he said, "Sol, reduce the countdown for Project Superman. Make it… ten minutes."
"As you command," Sol replied.
In Clark's mind, he saw the numbers ticking down quickly, settling on:
00:10:00
Clark heard the first tick, followed by the next, '00: 09: 58'
He closed his eyes once more and let himself fall backward, surrendering to the gravity of the planet below. The momentum gently tugged at him, turning his descent into a silent drift back to Earth. There was a strange peace in freefall—before the storm, before the impact, before the choice he was about to make became permanent.
00:07:50
As he pierced the upper atmosphere, his body ignited like a meteor. Flames danced along his figure, wrapping him in golden fire. His white suit shimmered beneath the heat, and his red sand cape flailed violently behind him, resisting the force of re-entry. To anyone on the ground, he was a brilliant streak in the sky—a shooting star crashing towards Earth with divine purpose.
00:04:12
The ocean rushed up to meet him, endless and unyielding. At the final moment before impact, his eyes snapped open—pupils dilated, instincts locked in. With an almost imperceptible twitch, he shifted his angle. skimming its surface with devastating force. Water erupted into the sky in a monstrous geyser as he split the ocean like a blade.
00: 03: 59
Hair and cape whipped like flags in a hurricane, his face set with hardened resolve. He surged forward above the water, dragging a shockwave of displaced water behind him. With a burst of speed, he launched himself through the sea like a bullet, his fist outstretched in front of him. Towering waves rippled out from where he had passed.
00: 02: 48
Now above the coast of Japan, he soared like a thunderclap across the sky. His enhanced hearing flooded with sound: distant conversations, animal cries, traffic, heartbeats—so many heartbeats. He zeroed his hearing on those who needed help most. His eyes glowed as he heard the sound of beeping, his vision zoomed through the city and saw a little girl running into the street chasing a ball and truck charging towards her with no way of stopping on time and a man pressing on the brakes.
00: 00: 59
He streaked across the skyline and entered the city like a bolt of crimson lightning. Glass shattered in his wake—windows, billboards, car windows. Car alarms blared. People stumbled and fell from the force of his arrival. Pedestrians screamed, shielding themselves from the sonic wave that followed.
The girl was already in the street, her small hands gripping the ball. She turned at the sound of the beeping, eyes going wide as the truck bore down towards her.
00: 00: 23
Clark arrived behind her, his boots cracking the pavement beneath them. He raised a hand, palm out, placing his hand like a wall between the girl and the oncoming steel beast.
00: 00: 17
The truck's front collapsed like paper against his outstretched hand. The force of the impact rippled out in a shockwave, crumpling metal and grinding tires into the street.
00: 00: 13
The driver, unable to brace for the sudden stop, was flung through the windshield. Time slowed.
00:00:09
Clark's cape came to life, launching forward like a red serpent. Sand particles crystallized midair, forming a protective cocoon around the driver, cushioning his fall. Cuts sealed, bruises softened, pain dulled by the living sand.
00: 00: 05
The truck finished compacting against his hand.
00: 00: 03
The little girl, stunned but unharmed, turned slowly. Her gaze climbed from the ruined truck to the man standing between her and death itself.
00:00:01
She stared into his brilliant blue eyes, her own full of awe, confusion, and gratitude.
Superman looked down and smiled—sincerely, softly, like a guardian finally fulfilling a promise.
"Don't worry," he said gently, voice resonating like a warm echo in her chest.
"You're safe now."
00: 00: 00
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