A/N: Not to brag but this might just be my best chapter yet
[Third Person Pov]
When Clark finally returned where he had gently lowered Ultraman to the ground, Clark noticed Momo already in full interrogation mode, leaning forward with narrowed eyes as she stared down Kreel.
"What did Cranis mean when he said you killed your mother?" Momo demanded, her voice sharp with suspicion. She crossed her arms, tilting her head as if trying to read every micro-expression on his face.
"Momo," Clark said firmly, shooting her a reproachful look that carried the weight of his disapproval.
"What?" Momo whirled around to face him, her lips forming an exaggerated pout. "Oh, now you want to play the considerate one? Come on, Supes. I know you're dying to know too. Don't act like you're above it."
"That's not the point," Clark replied sternly, his voice low but firm. "There are some things you simply don't ask people. It's called basic decency."
Momo faltered under his gaze, her confident posture shrinking slightly. She glanced down at her feet, suddenly uncertain. If even someone as uncaring as Clark was reprimanding her, maybe she had crossed a serious line this time. A pang of guilt began to creep in.
"It's okay," Kreel said quietly, shaking his head with a tired but genuine smile. He didn't seem offended, only resigned. "I don't mind sharing. I've come to terms with it a long time ago. It's not a secret that haunts me anymore… at least, not like it used to."
He took a slow breath, gathering his thoughts as the group fell silent around him. "My mother, during her final days, was suffering terribly. The kind of agonizing, unrelenting pain that no one should ever have to endure. My father was a brilliant scientist, but he was also desperate. He kept her alive through every experimental treatment and machine he could devise, clinging to the hope of finding a cure. But she couldn't take it anymore. She begged him, day after day, to let her go. To give her peace. He refused every time. In his mind, keeping her alive was love. To her… it became torture."
Kreel's voice grew softer, weighted with old sorrow. "She couldn't turn to anyone else. No one would help her end the suffering—not the doctors, not the family. So in the end, she turned to me. Her son. The one she trusted most."
Clark turned his head slightly, giving Momo another pointed glare. This time, the meaning was crystal clear: See? This is exactly why we mind our own business.
Momo looked down in deep shame and regret, her cheeks flushing as tears welled up in her eyes.
"I couldn't deny her," Kreel continued, his gaze distant. "Especially when she held my hands with what little strength she had left, tears streaming down her face, pleading with me to grant her the mercy my father wouldn't. It broke me… but I did it. I gave her the peace she deserved."
He paused for a long moment, staring into the distance as the memory replayed vividly in his mind—the dim lights of the medical chamber, the beeping machines, his mother's frail hand squeezing his one final time. When he finally looked back at the group, he stiffened. Both Momo and Lala were openly crying now, sniffling and wiping at their eyes.
"What?" Kreel asked, genuinely confused by their reaction.
"I'm so sorry!!" Momo burst out, her voice cracking with guilt and sympathy. "I shouldn't have asked. I didn't know it was something like *that*…"
"Ignore them," Clark sighed, placing a reassuring hand on Kreel's shoulder. "Don't blame yourself for what happened, and don't let your father's words poison you. What you did was an act of mercy. I'm sure your mother died grateful to you, at peace because of your courage."
"I know," Kreel replied with a faint, bittersweet grin. "The only reason I was able to move forward was because of that final moment. When she passed… she did so with a gentle smile on her face. That's what I choose to remember."
---
Meanwhile, not far away, chaos had consumed the Plaza. Cranis lay sprawled on the blood-soaked ground, his once-imposing figure reduced to a broken mess. His face was brutally disfigured—swollen, bruised, and cut open in multiple places. Blood coated his torn clothes and matted his hair. Several teeth had been kicked out, leaving bloody gaps in his mouth. Tears of agony and terror streaked down his ruined cheeks as the angry mob closed in.
"Stop! No more! I said STOP!!" he screamed hoarsely, his voice raw and desperate.
But the crowd was merciless. These were people who had suffered under his rule and his cruelty. Now they wanted him to feel every ounce of the fear and pain he had inflicted on them. Fists, feet, and improvised weapons rained down without pause.
In that moment of pure desperation, something inside Cranis snapped. His broken fingers trembled violently as he reached for the communicator embedded in his watch. With excruciating effort, he tapped the sequence.
"A-Activate it…" he choked out, coughing up blood. "Activate Protocol 'The Final End'!!" he roared with the last of his strength.
---
Back with the group, Clark suddenly turned his head, his sharp senses picking up the distant words. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Protocol: The Final End… What is that?"
Kreel's reaction was immediate and visceral. His face drained of all color, turning ghostly pale. His body began to tremble uncontrollably. "W-Where did you hear that?" he stammered, voice thick with terror.
Before anyone could respond, Kreel rushed forward and grabbed Clark by the shoulders, his grip surprisingly strong despite his shaking hands. "Where did you hear that?! Where did you hear those words?!!" he shouted, eyes wide with panic.
"Your father just said them," Clark answered calmly, though confusion was clear on his face. "He was being attacked by the mob. Why? What does it mean?"
Kreel released him and stumbled back several steps, his hands still trembling in front of him. "He's insane…" he whispered, horror etched into every feature. "He's completely lost his mind. If he activated that protocol… he's planning to kill us all."
"Just speak," Yami demanded, her sharp eyes narrowing into a dangerous glare as she stepped closer to Kreel. "What exactly is 'The Final End'?"
Kreel gulped heavily, sweat pouring down his face in thick rivulets. His hands trembled at his sides as the weight of the revelation pressed down on him. The color that had barely returned to his cheeks drained away once more. He looked around at the expectant faces of the group, knowing there was no avoiding the truth.
"'The Final End'…" he began, his voice hoarse and shaky, "is a fail-safe protocol. A last-resort weapon built into our planetary defense system. It was designed for one scenario only—if our world was ever being invaded and we were clearly losing the war. If it became obvious that defeat was inevitable… we would rather die free than let outsiders enslave us and take control of our planet."
A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the group. The air itself seemed to thicken with dread. In the distance, faint but growing screams began to reach Clark's superhuman ears—cries of panic and terror spreading across the city like wildfire.
Kreel's next words came out solemn and grave, each syllable laced with quiet horror. "It takes our largest moon out of its natural orbit… and pulls it down. A controlled collision that would completely shatter the planet, wiping out every single living thing on the surface in an instant."
(A/N: Song for a recommended reading experience: M83 — My Tears are Becoming a Sea)
A collective shiver ran down everyone's spine. The overwhelming sense of impending doom settled over the group like a cold blanket. Without a word, they all rushed toward the massive hole blown into the side of the building, the fierce wind whipping violently at their clothes and hair as they stared upward into the sky.
High above the atmosphere, the colossal moon had already begun its deadly descent. Its rocky surface glowed an angry, fiery orange as it tore through the upper layers of the planet's atmosphere, flames licking across its craters and mountain ranges. Chunks of molten debris trailed behind it like a terrifying comet tail, illuminating the night sky in apocalyptic hues of red and gold.
Across the globe, people slowly lifted their heads in unified dread. Some removed their hats and clutched them tightly to their chests in silent prayer. Others stood completely frozen, mouths agape in horror. Many dropped to their knees on streets and rooftops, weeping openly. Prayers for divine intervention and miracles rose into the air in dozens of languages.
In one quiet corner of a ruined neighborhood, Yargos' young daughter stood among the sea of people, her tiny hands clasped together as she whispered with trembling hope:
"Superman…"
**BOOM!!**
A thunderous shockwave erupted outward from Clark's position, powerful enough to knock everyone nearby off their feet and send them tumbling backward. Rings of compressed air exploded violently in all directions as Clark launched himself skyward like a living missile. His cape snapped wildly behind him, his expression set with unbreakable determination as he rocketed toward the falling moon.
The wind screamed past his face, pressing hard against his skin and suit. As he drew closer, the intense heat radiating from the moon bathed his features in a hellish glow. Flames danced and reflected in his steely blue eyes. Clark extended both hands forward, plunging them straight through the roaring inferno enveloping the celestial body. The surface of the moon began to crater deeply under the immense pressure of his palms.
His muscles bulged powerfully, veins standing out prominently on his forehead and arms as he pushed back with every ounce of his strength. Even through the roar of atmospheric fire, he could hear the desperate screams and cries of the scientists and workers trapped inside the lunar research ports—terrified voices begging for salvation.
"Awhooooo!!"
A familiar howl cut through the chaos. Krypto shot through the sky at breathtaking speed, a white-and-gold blur of super-powered canine determination. He slowed only when he reached Clark's side, positioning his powerful back firmly against the moon's burning surface.
"Don't think for a second, pal, that I'm letting you do this alone," Krypto seemed to say with a determined bark.
Clark smiled softly despite the crushing pressure, gratitude flashing in his eyes. Together, the Man of Steel and his loyal Kryptonian companion pushed with synchronized might. The moon's catastrophic descent began to slow, but the strain was enormous—small fractures spider-webbed across its surface as massive pieces of rock broke off and spiraled away into the atmosphere.
The fate of an entire world, of countless lives, now rested on their shoulders.
"Come on, we have to do our part!" Lala declared, her voice filled with determination. Massive leather wings erupted from her back, stretching wide and powerful.
Yami crossed her arms, her expression clouded with pessimism. "What do you expect us to do? We're not Superman. We'd be of no real help to him up there. We'd only get in the way."
"No, I agree with Lala," Momo said firmly, stepping forward as her body ignited with vibrant spiritual energy. A brilliant green aura surrounded her, crackling with power and resolve. "We might not be able to help him lift a moon back into orbit, but we *can* keep the people he's trying to protect safe. That's our role. That's how we fight."
Without another moment of hesitation, Momo launched herself forward in a dazzling burst of emerald light, streaking across the sky like a shooting star. Lala flapped her powerful wings and soared after her, the wind whipping through her hair as she climbed rapidly toward the chaos above.
Yami stood watching for a second longer, her sharp eyes tracking the danger. Small fragments of the moon were breaking off and hurtling downward like deadly meteorites, glowing red-hot as they tore through the atmosphere. One particularly large chunk screamed toward a populated district. The tip of Lala's tail glowed with concentrated energy as she spun mid-air and unleashed a devastating blast, shattering the debris into harmless pebbles. Momo followed up instantly, creating massive spiritual constructs of glowing green hammers that smashed the remaining fragments into dust.
Yami sighed deeply, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. "Fine… you win." Angelic wings burst from her back in a radiant flash. She took off after them, joining the desperate defense of the planet below.
---
High above, Clark closed his eyes in deep concentration. His entire body erupted with brilliant golden energy, the same radiant power that defined his most heroic moments. The luminous aura spread outward in soft, rippling waves across the moon's fractured surface, gradually killing its catastrophic momentum. Inch by inch, the colossal celestial body slowed until it finally came to a trembling halt, suspended dramatically in the sky for the entire world to witness.
Everyone on the planet could see it clearly now — Superman and Krypto standing as the final unbreakable line between them and total annihilation.
Kreel, witnessing the awe-inspiring sight, sprinted toward the still-unconscious Ultraman. He dropped to his knees and began urgently slapping the hero's face. "Wake up!" *Slap!* "Wake up!" *Slap!* "Wake up, damn it! Don't leave the fate of our home entirely in the hands of outsiders! This is your world too, isn't it?!"
Ultraman's eyes suddenly snapped open with overwhelming intensity, glowing with renewed power and purpose.
From the giant hole in the building, a black-and-silver blur shot past at superhuman speed, rocketing upward to join the fray.
A deep, guttural growl rumbled from Clark's throat as his eyes surged with raw power. "Ahhhhhhh!!" he roared, every muscle in his body straining as he pushed with godlike might against the moon.
Suddenly, a new pair of powerful hands joined them on the moon's surface. Clark turned his head and saw Ultraman positioned beside him, nodding with fierce solidarity. Clark returned the nod, and together with Krypto, the three roared in unison — a deafening cry of defiance that echoed across the heavens.
With their combined strength, they began pushing the enormous celestial body back the way it had come. They drove it upward through the burning atmosphere, fighting against gravity itself. Far below, the people erupted into cheers. Hats flew into the air, families embraced tightly, lovers kissed with overwhelming emotion, tears of relief streaming down their faces as hope returned.
Clark bore the majority of the burden — hundreds of quintillion tons of dead weight pressing down on him. He pushed far beyond anything he had ever attempted before, his body screaming in protest, yet his will remained unbreakable. With Krypto and Ultraman's help, they successfully guided the moon back into its natural orbital position among the other satellites.
Krypto finally released his grip and dove back toward the planet, followed closely by Ultraman. Clark lingered for a few moments longer, his hands still cautiously outstretched, making absolutely sure the moon was stable. Only then did he sigh in deep relief and begin his descent.
As the moon settled into its rightful place, it no longer blocked the sun. The first golden rays of a new dawn began to break across the horizon, painting the sky in breathtaking hues of orange, pink, and gold.
The people who had been staring upward in anxious anticipation finally saw him clearly. The first rays of sunlight struck Superman as he descended majestically, his iconic red cape billowing heroically in the wind behind him. He looked every bit the symbol of hope the world desperately needed.
In that moment, the entire planet erupted. People from every corner of the globe — men, women, and children of all nations — began frantically shouting his name. The chant grew into a thunderous, unified roar that shook the very air:
"SU-PER-MAN! SU-PER-MAN! SU-PER-MAN!"
The cry echoed across cities, mountains, and oceans — a planetary anthem of gratitude and awe
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