"This is Leslie Larr," Morgan Edge said, introducing his assistant.
"Nice to meet you," he said, shaking her hand. She had a strong grip.
"Show Kal-El what you can do," Morgan encouraged.
She focused on a pop can and with a blast of heat vision, it jumped into the air before she disintegrated it completely.
It marked the first time he had seen anyone do his powers. It was beyond strange. "Was she-"
"Born on Krypton? No. In Smallville, Kansas. Heard of it?"
"I'm familiar with the place," he said slowly, wondering if he knew more about his old life than he let on even though that information was classified.
"By our studying of you, studying of the meteorite of you planet, we have invented technology that allows us to alter human DNA structure to resemble Kryptonian."
He didn't know why that unsettled him. This had been the plan, more or less. Maybe it was the way Leslie was looking at him as if she was measuring his worth as a Kryptonian and found him lacking.
"Soldiers unlike the world has ever seen," General Lane said, proud of the hand the military had played in all of this.
What would happen if one of these humans with their newfound abilities went rogue? He supposed that would be his job to stop them if they did, but he got an uneasy feeling about the whole thing like this was the calm right before a massive storm hit.
sss
"Mom?" he called. He listened for her and didn't hear her anywhere. He zeroed in on someone saying her name.
"Martha Kent was a pillar of this community. If anyone needed help, she was there."
That's when the horrible truth hit him. She was dead, her funeral service was happening now and no one had thought to call him. Why would they? Clark Kent hadn't been seen in years and was presumed dead or at least someone who didn't want to be found.
He flew to the church, hovering just out of sight. The church was packed. She had no living relatives besides him, but she had no lack of mourners. The people of Smallville were her family.
Tears fell in a way they hadn't since those first days of lock-up when all he'd wanted was to go home to his parents. Had she been sick and not told him? Why hadn't he been able to be there for her last moments? He was Superman, presumably the most powerful man on Earth, and he couldn't even save his own mother. It was beyond unfair.
The funeral procession began and he used the clouds for cover, keeping pace with it. In the country way, he watched cars going the other way with people that didn't even know his mother, pull off to the side of the road as the procession passed. It wasn't the law but rather a sign of respect for the deceased as well as a commiseration of shared humanity with the mourners.
The pastor spoke the usual words of comfort at the graveside and said a prayer, "We pray for guidance, Lord of all creation. We desire to remember that nothing redeemed by your Son will ever be lost through eternity. We return our sister to the earth to live with You and all your children forever and ever. Amen."
He added his own amen. He waited until everyone was gone. Lana and her family were the last to leave. He wondered uselessly what it would have been like if he'd been able to stay in Smallville. Would he and Lana have married and had children of their own? Would he have been happy if they had? He probably would have been happier than he was now.
Alone, he landed. "I'm sorry I wasn't there, Mom," he said to her gravestone. "I wanted to be. I won't forget all you and dad taught me." He found a stray rose the wind had tossed from the wreath that adorned her casket. He tossed it in, a final goodbye until the day there were no more goodbyes.
He dyed his Superman suit black after leaving, a sign of mourning that would remain secret. The farm was sold by the bank as his mom had taken out a mortgage without telling him. His childhood home was the last vestige of his old life, his last true reminder that he'd once lived as a human, and it was gone.