Superman gazed across the barren wasteland. He felt tears welling up inside of him, but resisted the urge to cry. It was not, he told himself, worth it to cry. Slowly, without flying, without super-speeding, he began walking across the remains of a country.
He did not eat; nor did he sleep. With his cape billowing out in the dry winds, he took step after step through the inhospitable surroundings. The world would go on without him.
Superman was out in space when the bomb had been launched. The ironic thing was, he thought, I didn't need to be there. J'onn could have handled it, or Kyle, or Diana. Still, all of them went forth to stop the threat that ended up being minimal. No one was able to stop the nuclear bomb after it was off. It would have taken, the populous said, a superman. Unfortunately, Superman was not there to help.
When he heard the explosion, for the explosion could be heard even from the depths of space, he rocketed himself Earthbound. Superman's telescopic vision shot ahead of him, seeing the carnage that showed itself. Immediately, he realized the radiation the clouded up from the doomed location. Superman's speed re-doubled.
The thousands of people were dead. Superman took a step. Not even Superman could stop a single bomb. Another step. Millenniums of culture disappeared in an instant. Another step. There would be no descendants from anyone in the radii of the bomb. Step. Superman was off in space when the bomb went off. Step. His amazing array of powers couldn't even stop one bomb from detonation. Step. No one else had the caliber to stop it. Step. Except Superman. Step. Superman could have stopped it. Step. But Superman was there.
Surprisingly, it was not Iraq, or Afghanistan, or Korea that Superman walked across. He would not have to lament over their destruction. Superman walked across America, now a desolate, bleak block of land. It was over.