"Earth to Smallville! Come in, Smallville!" Clark Kent's eyes refocused as he snapped out of his daze, only to find a well manicured hand snapping irritably inches from his nose. "Come on, Smallville, get your head out of the clouds! We've got a scoop!" Lois Lane's quizzical, if not slightly annoyed face filled his view. "What?" Clark stammered as Lois moved to her desk, scooping up her jacket, her purse, her Blackberry, and her coffee with speeds only 'The Blur' could match. The Blur. Clark smirked, a small bit of pride from the persona he adopted to help the world. "Stop dragging your feet!" Lois snapped, half way up the stairs. "Oh, coming." Clark grabbed his jacket, plodding behind Lois like a faithful sidekick and her secret guardian angel.
He had been miles away, thinking about the Kandorians and the Book of Rao. He didn't know what he was supposed to do with them, with Zod. "What's happening?" Clark 'caught up' with Lois at the elevator. "Hostage situation at the doughnut shop. Some wacko wants attention? Well now he's got every cop in Metropolis' undivided attention." The elevator slid open. Well at least he wouldn't be alone. John Jones was sure to be there. Clark sucked in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for a Blur appearance, but it was risky. While it wasn't about the doughnuts, there was bound to be plenty of police on scene. He would have to be careful.
"Where is the Book of Rao?" A woman's voice echoed in the otherwise empty room. Zod looked up from his lieutenants to face the intruder interrupting his meeting. No one took that tone with him! No one! To his surprise, Zod found a young woman dressed in traditional Kryptonian garb. Her over tunic was red, trimmed in gold over the common black body suit and boots. She wore the badge of the military guild, his guild. Her redish-brown hair was pulled back in a braid that fell down her back and over her forehead was a golden tiara. "How dare you speak up to your superior!" Zod growled, his eyes narrowing, but his anger stayed in check. "Where is the Book of Rao?" The woman repeated, her tone rising. She stepped forward, her body language menacing, ready to fight.
If it was a fight this insubordinate whelp wanted, it was a fight she would get. Zod raised his hand to her, a scowl creasing his face. "I will teach you some respect-" Swinging his hand, the young woman caught his arm. "Geaw!" Zod could not suppress a cry of pain as his forearm ignited in flames, burning through his sleeve and scoring his skin. He tried to pull away, but the girl's grip was like iron, like a true Kryptonian. "I will ask you one last time." The woman began, twisting his arm, forcing the proud Zod to his knees. "Where is the Book of Rao?" Zod heard the sound of his lieutenants' boots scuffling. Looking over his shoulder, he found them on their knees, heads bent down. "The Flamebird!" They gasped in awe. Impossible! A guardian of the Book of Rao? Here? On this worthless ball of mud? The Flamebird was a totem animal of Krypton, now long gone. She was a god and she did not know where the book was? He could use this to his advantage. "I-I, it's with Kal-el! Find him and you will find the book."
The Flamebird released his hand, scoffing. "You are all that is left of Krypton? Great father Rao, I weep for you." Zod gripped his arm, scowling at the god incarnate. He would have to play this carefully. "This is Kal-el's doing! We should have been restored to our former glory if it were not for him! He wants the power of the yellow sun all for himself! If you are truly a protector of Krypton, make Kal-el pay! Protect your people!"
Arriving at the doughnut shop, the street was crawling with police. Through the glass window, Clark could see a man holding a gun to a small boy. The boy couldn't possibly have been older than eight years old. He didn't look scared, though. Instead, he was chanting. With the aid of his enhanced hearing, Clark honed in on the boy's words. To anyone else, it would have been incoherent garble. To Clark Kent, it was Kryptonian. Though he was having a hard time keeping up with the harmonious hymnal, he was certain he understood the general message: "Rao pondered this loneliness, until, reaching into himself for a small fraction of the energies harnessed within…And transformed the flames of chaos into the fires of creation…" The boy was chanting from the Kryptonian bible, the Book of Rao! As this revelation dawned upon Clark, John Jones stepped into view, the deep scowl on his face told Clark he knew something. "Excuse me, Lois." Clark touched her shoulder lightly before turning to Jones. Lois was so wrapped up doing her job, she barely noticed him. "What's going on, John?" Clark discretely leaned in close to the Martian Manhunter. "The boy is Kryptonian, isn't he?" Jones nodded. "I'm afraid it's more complicated than that, Clark." Clark furrowed his brow at the cryptic comment. "How much more complicated could it be?" Jones leaned in closer, his voice dropping. "He isn't a Kandorian Kryptonian. All the Kandorians are adults, there shouldn't be any children." Clark and Jones turned to look at the hostage, hundreds of thousands of questions sprang to mind. "He's…he's a Kryptonian survivor? Like me?" Jones was hesitant to confirm such a theory, but he saw no other explanation. "I think so."
A look of hope flickered across Clark's face. Another Kryptonian survivor? Like him? Like Kara? And he had to get to that boy before anyone else could. "Distract Lois, John. I need to change." Jones nodded, turning his eyes onto the young reporter. Lois Lane was like a bloodhound. Once she caught a scent, she was relentless. On more the one occasion she was mere inches away from discovering Clark's secret. She already stumbled upon Oliver's. It was a full-time job keeping that woman off their trail. "Leave it to me, Clark." Jones thumped Clark on the shoulder before walking towards Lois. Meanwhile, Clark slipped discretely out of sight, performing a super-speed outfit change. Angling himself in the back alley behind the doughnut shop, Clark went in through the kitchen. He had to go in fast and with no room for mistakes. The kitchen staff made their escape easily from the gunman. His focus had been on the patrons, not the staff. But what role did that boy play in all of this? His clothing did not look Kryptonian. He had been on Earth long enough to get clothes? From where? From whom? Taking a deep breath, Clark readied himself. This would have to be done in one precise swoop. Opening the kitchen door, Clark moved as fast as his Kryptonian body would allow. Grabbing a chair, he struck the man. The chair shattered and the man fell. Looping back, he hooked his arm around the boy and ran right back out.
Three blocks away from the situation, Clark finally stopped and set the boy down. The boy turned his large blue eyes up to Clark. The brown haired child looked familiar, but he could not place from where. "Are you alright? What is your name?" His Kryptonian wasn't all that great, but the boy seemed to understand him. "Don't worry, I know English." The boy said with a giggle. "But I can't remember my name." Shock radiated through Clark, "You're Kryptonian?" The boy smiled, "Yeah…well, sorta. It's a long story. I'm here for a reason, but-" The boy's face dropped, sadness filling his eyes, compelling Clark to kneel down and rest a reassuring hand on the child's shoulder. "I can't remember why I'm here either." The boy's eyes filled with tears. "But I'm here for something important! I have a job to do and I can't remember what it is!" Clark was at a loss. He hadn't felt this befuddled since Lana and he had to care for a rapidly aging child. "It will be ok, I promise." Clark patted the child's shoulder. "I'll take you home, ah, we'll figure it out from there. And we'll get you a name, too. How's that?" The boy's blue eyes lit up, the tears forgotten, as joy once more filled his face. "That would be great!" Scooping the boy up in his arms, Clark turned towards Smallville.
Back at the farm, Clark manage to find some clothes from storage that the boy could wear, he fed him and they even settled on the name. The boy like Christopher, something that sat uneasily with Clark, who vividly recalled a world where he did not exist. "So, where did you come from if not Krypton?" Clark finally asked. Chris poked at the last bit of his eggs with his fork. "I'm from the Phantom Zone." The Chris mystery deepened. "That's impossible. Why were you put there? How did you get out?" Chris looked up at him with trepidation. "I was put there by my father. I don't remember much, but I remember him saying I would be safest in the shadows. That's the last I remember until that pretty fire woke me up." Clark was very, very confused. "Fire?" Christ nodded. "It was a dream, it had to be a dream. But I remember her warmth, like she was really there. And when I woke up, I was crashing into the forest."