A/N- Superman has a little character development here...
CHAPTER 13- (S)
ARCTIC CIRCLE- 4 Days After Incident
Clark stepped down on the ice, the Nanite suit protecting him completely. It felt powerful. The crest on his chest gave him a feeling of greatness. He felt like he finally had a purpose, rather than wasting away his life doing nothing useful whatsoever. This power would be his redemption, or his breaking.
Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.
He knew that he could easily lose control. He could rule the world, and no one could stop him. He was strong enough now to lift up a spaceship weighing nearly a ton, and Jor-El had said that he would only get stronger. There was no telling his limits.
He could jump hundreds of yards in one leap, he could punch through steel, he could fire heat from his eyes. Oh it would be so easy. Give the people who had made him suffer so much justice, rebel against his parents' constant yelling at him, all of his frustration at no one being able to understand him, all that pain of knowing that he would find no one who would.
"Everything we have ever done for you was charity!" …His parents…
"You are a disgrace and a disappointment!"... His teachers…
"Quit sulking around!" …Bruce…
"You need professional help, Kent!"... Diana…
"What is wrong with you!? You're nothing but trouble!" …Karen…
Clark was dragged from his thoughts when he heard something in the distance. He pushed off, bolting towards the cacophony of noise he heard. HELP! HELP US! SOMEBODY HELP!
He ran as fast as he could, reaching the source of the screams. An expedition had camped out on the corner of an ice sheet, which was rapidly crumbling. It would fall apart at any moment, a sheer drop to the ocean below. The whole sheet had been unstable, a quick scan showed him, but they hadn't known that. The ice had gradually sunk down, and before the team could notice, it was on the verge of collapsing. Stuck in their metal tent, they were trapped, any movement would finish it quicker. 5 people inside, they were crying for help, but no one would have heard them. Clark took a deep breath. Its unstable, you have to be careful.
He took a risk and jumped towards the metal tent, and the ice shuddered, nearly breaking. He clasped the edge of the small site and pulled, straining as hard as he could. The metal creaked under pressure but he pulled it upwards. The house shifted and he felt a sudden jerk going through the ice. Before he could realize, the pressure gave in and the tent slipped from his hands. The ice sheet collapsed, the entire wall falling to the ocean below. Clark yelled as the people fell to the ocean, the impact crushing the tent. He cried out as he hit the water with a massive force. It hadn't hurt him, but the shock was enough to stun him momentarily. He recovered and looked around underwater for any sign of the people. He saw frantic movement in the interior of the crushed metal. He propelled himself towards it, and pulled it up, heaving with all his might. He set down the remains on the ice, gasping for breath.
Only stopping for a second, he ripped open the compartment, only to find mangled bodies beyond fixing. They had been mutilated beyond help. Guilt was the first thing that darted through his mind. If I hadn't pulled so hard, maybe they could have waited it out. Maybe they could have been saved.
He stood facing the dead, and closed his eyes. I'm not worthy. I can't do this. First I let thoughts of anger and revenge control me, and then because of me these people died. Maybe Karen was right. I am nothing but trouble.
He jumped up to the cliff, a hundred feet above him. He tore off the Nanite suit in one smooth movement and let it sit on the ice. His jeans and t-shirt underneath provided him no reassurance and he felt vulnerable. He pulled out the red cloth from his pocket and looked at it. It was supposed to be him. Jor-El's real son. Maybe if he had come to earth he could have learned our ways better. He could have been the bridge between two people. He could have learned the meaning of hope, and under his father's guidance, taught that to humanity. Clark felt something in his throat that wouldn't go away. There is another universe out there where he lived. Where it wasn't me chosen…
He never hated himself more than in that moment…He closed his eyes…letting emotions cloud his senses. I had told Jor-El I would rise to meet this…Zod.
Clark felt dread and something akin to fear at the thought of facing a Kryptonian in combat. He would have the sun's energy as well. And he would be a general, an expert in combat, not to mention a grown man with more experience than Clark would ever have.
He was close to panicking…
He ran. He didn't know where he was running, but he ran.
He wore the Nanite suit as he was running. The spandex like feeling of the nanotech felt comfortable, but it did nothing to distract him from the impending danger.
"Zod's phantom drive is not in working condition, but he can remodel the hyper-drive from the parts he has on his ship. He has received the distress signal from this ship as soon as you plugged in the Codex. I stopped it as soon as I got control, but he already knows enough" Jor-El had said. "It will take him close to 150 Earth revolutions to reach here."
5 months. 5 months to battle elite Kryptonians. 5 months to prepare.
Clark hit land like a ton of bricks, hitting a wall not paying attention to where he was going. He fell and got up, coughing the dust out of his lungs. He looked around, and realized he was somewhere in South America, probably Chile. The natives had gathered around him, the local fisherman pointing at the boy who had ran over water.
He looked them all over and bolted, scrambling away from the crowd, and when in the clear, using his super speed. The noise had increased again. It was thankfully quiet on the poles, but now in the city once more, he was overwhelmed again. He drowned out the noise, trying to focus on the problem at hand.
Considering the facts, he came to a decision. I will defeat Zod. And then I will get Jor-El to remove the codex from my blood and extract the Kryptonian DNA. I am not worthy, I will never be the ideal of hope that he wants me to be…
He ran north, reaching quiet Canada in a day and a half, stopping to rest only once. Smallville. His parents seemed fine, carrying on their usual schedules like nothing was wrong. He had hesitated, but then carried on.
He reached the wilderness of Canada, and settled there in a remote town north of Alaska.