Man v God: World's Finest

Who is like God? Who is Man? Are we simply mortals walking around this wild, furious wonder? Or are we the very gods we created to stand above us who have yet to realize our potential?

I was always bemused by questions like these growing up. As a youth, I admired the many legends of history, from Apollo to Nebuchadnezzar to even our founding father. One of my favorites was the morbidly beautiful story of how a god of the underworld fell in love with a girl so deeply that idly yearning for her was not nearly enough. And because of that, it explained the arduous Winters and the arid Summers, where bounty is plenty.

But no tale would ever compare to the one I'm about to tell you, dear reader.

I remember as if he came just yesterday, perhaps March or April. I just remembered that the beginning of that year, I was so miserable because I was the "new, intrepid journalist" that was easy on the eyes so that meant I got stuck with lousy jobs and those whom I thought would be my professional mentors painted a target on my back. According to one of my colleagues, anyway. But everybody was there wondering what that mighty, thunderous cry was. I was sitting on my desk when I heard it. It was as if the heavens cracked open and it was the Almighty telling us to behave or something really religious.

At first, I thought nothing of it. Maybe it was just a thunderstorm? I do recall the forecast saying a squall was forming on the coastlines and it was heading our way. But no thunder clapped as loud or proudly on that day. I remember Perry telling me to meet a board member from a very popular conglomerate that day for what I initially thought was an exclusive interview. It turns out the Daily Planet wanted someone's presence to be accounted for.

Great, I thought. My career in journalism was already off to a great start and my superiors see such great potential in me that I actually didn't need to go to work! But I did, anyway, and I felt like showing off how pretty I felt that day. And on that day was the day that I will never forget him.

His face...

His eyes...

Oh, those blue eyes...

They were beautiful, like the Mediterranean sunset or the oceans blanketing Santorini. I felt lost in those mystical whirlpools and I didn't want to be saved by anyone other than him.

I can't exactly tell you what happened but I wasn't very lucky that day. Everything went fine until I had to leave the Planet for the interview where other vultures were probably swarming by now. Droplets of rain fell but not enough to deter me. Plus, I did pack my umbrella. What I didn't expect was the huge gust of wind almost knocking me fleet off my heels. And I was wearing running shoes, which nobody berated me for, thankfully.

So I'm walking and elected to take a shortcut. What could possibly go wrong, right? Wrong. I was walking for about maybe twenty minutes (I lied, I was lost but I chose to remain optimistic) or so before I gave up. I needed to get directions.

Crap, man! Crap, crap, crap!

That was the first thing I heard so I put my phone away. I began tracing the source of the murmur but it was barely audible. I just know the conversation was in a panic and I thought I could get a good scoop while I was at it. That day, I could have signed my death warrant. However, that day changed my life forever.

There were two guys, one was wearing a beanie and the other had messy hair. From the looks of it, they just mugged someone and might have committed a really nasty act. I couldn't really hear what they were saying, but I understood what they were talking about. One of their cohorts was just taken in by a "man literally made out of steel." He had to emphasize the literally with great enunciation.

"We gotta' keep moving, man!"

"Calm down. It's not like he'd follow us here."

"Did you see how fast he moved! He was faster than the blink of an eye! Faster than a speeding bullet!"

"So what? He didn't see where we went! Even if he did, we got lost in that dumb parade."

Oh, that's right. I forgot to mention there was a parade commemorating the greatest benefactor to Metropolis. It was a tribute to Lex Luthor who, despite having an alleged insidious agenda involving underground illegal networks, donated a large sum to many charities and museums. I know what you're thinking: You just had to pick this job in this particular city, didn't you? Well, to tell you the truth...

I'm glad I did.

"Let's just get out of here, man! That blue blur is going to squash us the moment he gets a chance!"

"Just relax. I'm going to call Frank. See if he can pick us up here at the alley."

And that's when Perry decided to call and ask if I was at Luthor's rally. The man had entire blocs closed off for him but he wasn't even remotely close to it. But the perpetrators of the then-unknown crime had their attentions drawn.

"What the hell was that?"

"Looks like we got a little peeper."

I forgot what I said that day, but I remembered seeing lust in their eyes trying to overpower me. I was backed into the corner by two rabid hyenas and I would have made easy prey if I hadn't heard that powerful boom. I prayed and prayed that second, if it was my time, then let me go peacefully. But when I opened my eyes, there he stood. That impeccable cape speaking of royalties herald only by deities, forged by the master weavers of the pantheons. Those piercing blues teeming with justice and determination. The way he stood, a glint of conviction and hope permeating all around him. His chiseled jaw, his musculature... and that bright red S.

"Waste this guy!"

Blam! Pow!

Those were the sounds of gunfire being directed at him. And he stood there. Alive.

"No way!"

It was as if everything happened in a picosecond and I bore witness. He watched all bullets collapse to the ground after the two crooks emptied their magazines. Neither of them attempted to reload their weapons but I had to assume they had more than enough common sense to determine that if they didn't get him for the first forty times, they won't get him for the forty-first. He brought his gaze to meet theirs and he simply smiled. He was majestic, as if Venus carved him out of marble or as if the Colossus of Rhodes had a living progeny and he was here to give our little green globe a tribunal that would last for eons. My blood was rushing and it looked like he was ready to crush these guys.

He didn't say a word. Just casually walked towards us and with each stride, I felt... different. Like I finally knew what it was like to be living.

Was I in paradise? Or is this merely the illusion of Heaven?

He grabbed for one of their handguns and snapped it in two with no effort at all, as if he took a piece of bread and yanked it apart. He immediately surrendered. His partner, though, didn't. He tried using me as leverage by being unoriginal with having a knife to my neck. Typical damsel-in-distress, right?

"Don't come any closer, man! I'll slit her throat! If you don't believe me, come closer!"

I couldn't as so much as utter the platitudinous "Help me, hero!" by the time he reacted. What only took a moment felt like centuries to me. I remember pleading with him silently to save me and he gave me a reassuring nod. We didn't have to say anything and yet... he knew. He already knew. He burst like a missile homing in on its target, and he left a trail of red and blue behind. You could have easily mistook him for Old Glory and not one person would blame you. When I turned around, the other guy had already taken off but the sirens getting closer was telling me he won't be getting far.

"Are you all right, miss?"

He spoke.

His very first words to me.

"Yeah, I'm fine... um..."

"Glad to hear that."

And then when he smiled at me, his fists clenched on the shirt of the very villain who could have given me the front page I had zero desire taking part of (that's homicide for those who are too daft to comprehend). The culprit reached into his jacket, trying to stab this Man of Steel but he didn't even bother swatting it away. The blade couldn't even get through that strangely thin layer of clothing. And when I thought I couldn't be enamored more by this amazing being, fire comes out from his eyes, incinerating the metal until it was reduced to not even ashes. It disintegrated into the wind.

"Well, I hope this doesn't put you off of the wonders of Metropolis. I would say this is the safest way to travel, but statistically speaking, that spot's been taken by the airlines."

"Wait!"

"Yes?"

"I- I didn't get your name!"

"I can be anything you need me to be. You can call me Bob if you want."

"That's nice and all but Bob starts with a B. What's the S stand for?"

"Hope."

"That's funny. How about... Superman?"

I remember thinking at the time, "Really, girl? You may not have the most extensive vocabulary but you could've come up with something else better than that."

"Fine by me, Missus...?"

"Lois. Miss Lois Lane."

"Lois. Right."

"Something tells me I'll be seeing you more around."

"Have a good day, Ms. Lane."

And right then and there, he took off. Just like the Son of God did on the third day, when he ascended into Heaven.

"You, too... Superman..."

On that day, I was mesmerized by him.

"Are you okay, lady?"

Police had arrived to where they heard the sound of the sonic boom but by then, nothing was left to be found. And I stood there with my eyes fixated on the skies.

That day confirmed we were no longer alone in the universe nor were we even special anymore. That day was the day I started to believe again.

Not just being grateful to waking up alive and fortunate enough to have breakfast at my mediocre apartment. I didn't start attending mass or anything.

I used to berate myself for giving him the moniker Superman because it sounded silly at the time but I didn't know people would catch on as the world turned. Now I understood the weight of the world's problems, our burdens, amassing on his shoulders and he was our allegorical Atlas. Now I understood what he meant by how that shield wasn't an S but an alien symbol for hope. Now I knew why he was considered the world's greatest hero and how nobody could ever replace him.

And for the first time, I didn't know what love or loss was until I met him. To be loved by him, something nobody but his parents could ever relate to, or to love him was truly a miracle. The man who gave me my first Pulitzer about why the world needed a Superman whose bruised and battered body, heart and soul never quit just simply didn't quit was an article worth writing over and over. He was the chariot master who commandeered the juggernaut with a fiery whip and godly essence coagulating his entire legend was something you never get tired of.

So why am I writing to you, dear reader? Because I want you to find out for yourself if it was the Man you fell in love with or the God. Even though he's gone, his love is here to stay. But we can all agree that he was truly the world's finest.

Hope.

-Lois Lane