Prologue
"So this is what remains of all your struggles, Jor-El."
A man knelt upon the smoldering floor of a once grand hall, his body wounded and bleeding. Before him stood another who held nothing but contempt and disdain behind his dark eyes. He wore a heavy, ornate armor signifying his status as a ranking military officer, while his counterpart wore the robes of high nobility. Both had emblazoned on their chests the similar insignias of their respective houses, a relic of once friendlier relations. The two were alone, but all around them were the sounds of distant screams and explosions.
"Look and despair at what has been wrought by your foolishness," the latter man sneered, "Countless lie dead and for what? Your pride?"
Jor-El winced and struggled to focus his blurring vision. He couldn't let go, not yet. Not until he was sure Lara and their son had safely managed to escape.
"Zod…" he pleaded, "Open your eyes... Look at what has become of you, of our people. He's changed us. Turned us against each other. If we do not stop him, many more will perish in the wars to come."
"Your traitorous lies are deaf upon my ears," Zod scoffed, "The king is our chosen ruler. You saw it yourself the gods gave their blessings during the coronation."
"If he is then why does famine and plague befall the land? Why have our brethren been kidnapped and enslaved?"
"He is leading us to a new era. Sacrifices must be made."
"He's leading us to destruction! Look deep into your heart and tell me you do not see the evil that has befallen Krypton."
"Enough!" Zod roared, marching menacingly towards the scientist. But Jor-El was undeterred.
"What happened to your honor? Your love for our people?" he continued, rising to his feet with great effort.
"Do not speak to me of honor," Zod seethed as he seized Jor-El by the collar, lifting him several feet off the ground, "A man with honor would not have stolen from the kingdom, nor would he have killed his queen and slain his prince in his crib. Confess to your crimes!"
"I only did what was right," Jor-El hissed through clenched teeth.
"Confess now," Zod demanded again, "Tell me where you have hidden the orb and the king will spare your wife and heir."
"They're already gone, far from your reach," Jor-El coughed. By now Lara should have taken the orb and Kal safely to the ship.
"Oh?" Zod smirked, "Is that what you think?"
The general released his grip on the scientist, who fell to the floor unceremoniously gasping for breath. He clapped his hands loudly and the door to the hall was suddenly forced open. Several of his troops stormed in, dragging the limp body of a woman clad in robes that matched Jor-El's.
At this, his eyes widened in fear. All color drained from his face and he felt a coldness spread through his veins.
"Lara!" he screamed and rushed to her side, "NO!"
She was burned and bruised badly. Her breaths were ragged and her face contorted in pain.
"Lara," he whispered desperately, cupping her face with his hands. He saw her struggle to form words but managed only airy gasps. He shushed her and buried his face in the crook of her neck.
Zod was perplexed to see only one prisoner.
"Commander Faora," he muttered, "What of Jor-El's son?"
"Lady Lara has hidden him," a woman replied as she knelt before her general, "The rest of our troops are scouring the rest of the castle as we speak."
Zod's face fell into an irritated grimace, but no matter. He still had Lara as leverage. Kal-El was merely an infant, and the entire castle was surrounded. Sooner or later they would find whatever cupboard he was stashed away in, and even if he could not be located then they would simply burn everything to the ground.
"Your wife is alive," Zod said as he circled them, "And you can ensure she will continue to live if you comply. Tell us where you've put the orb."
Jor-El remained silent, focused only on Lara. Weakly, she gestured to the sky, and then he understood.
"What was that gesture?" Zod barked furiously. He seized Lara from Jor-El and held a dagger to her neck.
"This is your last warning!" he roared, pressing the knife hard enough to draw blood. His eyes grew red and hot. His own troops recoiled at the intensity of his wrath, "Continue to defy us and I will slit your wife's throat before your eyes! I will find your son and burn him in front of you! Your household will be razed to the ground! Do you hear me?!"
A tense silence passed.
Jor-El finally looked up and met Zod's rage with an intense glare of his own. Instead of a broken, defeated man, Zod saw only defiance and strength.
"You won't," Jor-El growled, "You never will."
He glanced one last time at Lara who closed her eyes in understanding and shifted to a peaceful expression.
A blinding white light suddenly erupted from beneath them. Zod and his troops screamed as a heat hotter than the sun spread throughout their bodies. It felt as if they were being ripped to shreds, cell by cell.
"Make a better world than ours, Kal," Jor-El whispered before he too was consumed by the light.
Lady Martha Kent accompanied her husband as they strolled wordlessly along the outskirts of their land. Normally they conversed mirthfully with one another, but today the air between them was somber and listless. The few farmers who they encountered bowed their heads in respectful silence.
Earlier this year there had been much cause for celebration as Lord and Lady Kent had finally been graced with a child after trying for so many years. However, a week before the much anticipated delivery date, Lady Martha's pregnancy took a turn for the worse. Lord Jonathan had called upon countless physicians and midwives who tended to her round the clock… but ultimately it was all for naught. Their baby was delivered stillborn, and they were told she would no longer be able to bear children.
Even their crops this year bore very little, Martha noted bitterly. She blinked away the tears that threatened to form and tried to banish such thoughts from her mind.
They continued this way for quite some time, but in a sense Martha was grateful for it. Nothing was said, but nothing needed to be said. They shared the same grief.
Jonathan gazed tenderly at his wife and placed an arm securely round her shoulders, prompting her to sigh and rest her head against his. For the past few weeks he had been beside himself with anxiety, teetering on the edge of madness. When news came of their child's fate, an unimaginable darkness overcame him… but the only thing that had kept him from descending completely was Martha. She was his rock, his link to humanity. The fact that she still lived convinced him there was still good in this world, and for those reasons he would continue to stay strong. For her.
"Look," his soft voice was the first to break the silence, "The tulips have finally bloomed."
They happened upon a small field full of the flowers, their buds just barely opened. Martha closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in their clean aromas and the fresh, wet earth.
Some nights following the stillbirth, a great hailstorm had suddenly manifested with little to no warning. It was unlike anything the kingdom of Metropolis had ever seen before: thunder that rattled you down to your bones and fiery rocks that beat upon the land. At one point the ground quaked so hard Martha had been sure the estate would collapse. Then, just as quickly as it started, it had stopped. A gentle rain fell after that, extinguishing the flames.
The kingdom was in an uproar the next morning. Many thought the storm a sign from the gods. Some believed it was a grave warning while others saw it as a promise of a great thing yet to come.
As for Lord and Lady Kent, they did not know what to make of the storm. At the very least, they were grateful that they and members of their estate had not been harmed.
Jonathan knelt to pluck a tulip for his wife.
"Perhaps that storm was a blessing after all," Martha offered him a small smile as he tucked the flower behind her ear.
Jonathan's face warmed, elated that she had smiled for the first time in weeks. He watched her but then became perplexed when her expression changed to confusion.
"Jonathan, what's that?" Martha took a tentative step forward, squinting her eyes at what looked like a small crater off in the distance.
A sense of urgency rush began rushing through her veins as she felt herself walking faster and faster towards the strange crater. Something was compelling her towards it, but she knew not what. Her ears scarcely heard Jonathan calling after her as she picked up her skirts and began running.
"Martha!" Jonathan shouted, but she did not stop. What on earth had gotten into her?
He had caught up to her just as she arrived at the edge of the crater. Both froze at the sight before them.
"What…?"
There, laying before them was a strange, ovoid structure with foreign markings neither could recognize. It looked to be made of stone or metal, Jonathan was not sure what.
As they peered curiously at the object, they heard a small cry.
"A baby?" Martha gasped.
Before Jonathan could take any action, she lowered herself into the crater, uncaring of the mud ruining her dress.
"Martha! Be careful!" Jonathan cursed as he climbed down after her.
She placed her hands upon the structure. There was a great rumble as the crevices of the structure began to glow and emit steam. Martha yelped and leapt back into Jonathan, who steadied her. They watched in awe as the structure broke open, revealing to them an infant, crying and red-faced.
"Heavens!" Martha exclaimed and rushed to hold the babe, "You poor, sweet thing. Where did you come from? Who left you here?"
Jonathan stared dumbfounded at the scene before him, unsure of what to make of it all. He approached his wife and the strange infant hesitantly.
As she cradled the baby it began to calm, hiccuping as it gazed up at her with eyes that were impossibly blue. He was beautiful, she thought.
"Martha…" Jonathan realized what was happening and cleared his throat, "We can't take him back with us."
She turned towards him with a worried expression, "And what would we do instead? Just leave him here?"
"Dear, he must have a family. Maybe they're looking for him."
"Look at what we found him in. Does this look like anything that could be placed by accident? Whoever left him put him here on purpose, on our land to find."
Jonathan saw how her eyes glanced briefly up at the heavens and shifted uncomfortably.
The Kents were a noble house, though of lesser status, but still noble all the same. As such, they could not simply adopt any random babe they found left in a field. Society placed great emphasis on the purity of trueborn blood relations, and to give a title unto a child who had none was seen as an insult to the nobility.
"He was probably left here by parents who could not afford to care for him any longer," he reasoned, "He needs to be taken to an orphanage."
Martha gave him a look that shot down such notions.
"We have prayed for a son for so many years now," she said, "Perhaps he is finally the answer we have been seeking. We lost our firstborn, but now another has appeared before us. This is fate, Jonathan."
Jonathan's heart clenched when he saw how fondly his wife gazed down at the child. She had wanted to be a mother for so long… how could he take this from her after what had happened?
"I don't know what it is, but I feel we were destined to have him."
"Maybe…"
The baby turned towards him wide-eyed and curious, smiling and reaching up towards him. Jonathan felt his resolve begin to shatter. Martha studied the swirling of emotions on her husband's face. He felt it too.
"What should we name him?"
"... Clark," Jonathan said, after a brief pause.
Martha beamed, "I like that."