Martha screamed after her husband, who chased the reporter that threatened everything good in the Kent's lives. She had never seen her husband this angry, not since the incident with Lionel many years ago. She knew her husband would either kill the reporter before he revealed their family's precious secret--or die trying. She began to follow until a white light enveloped the room. She turned to see the spacecraft hovering inches above the floor, glowing. In all the years they had kept it hidden in the cellar, it had remained dormant. To Martha's surprise, it opened, the white light becoming brighten and purer, almost to the point of blindness. It flashed in a pattern and emitted a high pitched noise that could almost crush the human eardrum. It stopped suddenly, and Martha fell to the ground, unconscious, comatose. The ship had vanished.

Jonathan grabbed a sharp pic from the tool rack that hung from the cellar walls and chased madly after the reporter, Nixon. No one on the face of the planet was going to hurt his son. It was a miracle that Clark had managed to fall from the sky like shooting star with a broken wing. All the years of praying for a child had finally been answered. Eleven years of loving and cherishing him was going to be thrown away if he didn't stop this publicist madman.

Nixon ran. It was almost a game to him, a childish game of pleasure and fun. The Kent's story was going to make him big. He would probably win the Pulitzer or the Nobel Science Award--or both. Fame was, at last, his for the picking, and he planned to pick every last molecule of it.

Nixon finally reached his car before Jonathan could get to him, and sped off. Jonathan had no plausible way to get to him. His truck had been destroyed by that monstrosity and Martha's was on the other side of the farm, the engine filled with dust and debris. Jonathan threw the pic down into the ground. If Clark had been here, Nixon wouldn't have had a chance.

The wind was picking up and the triple threat of the tornadoes came closer and closer. Lana tried to get out of her truck, but the seatbelt wouldn't give. She tried starting up the engine again, but the debris the wind brought had already damaged it beyond repair. There was nothing she could do, save pray that there was little pain her in inevitable death.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a strange movement. At first she thought it was debris, but it was coming faster than the wicked winds were and in the opposite direction it was blowing from. It halted, just a few yards from her. It was Clark decorated in his formal attire. She screamed for help and banged on the window. Suddenly--too suddenly--she was enveloped in the vortex.

Clark spots Lana in the middle of the tornado. Worried, he proceeds into the tornado to rescue her. Suddenly, a tractor slams into Clark, shredding his tux to pieces. Clark throws the tractor out of the tornado, then tears the rest of his blazer off. He moves closer to the truck in which Lana is trapped and reaches for the door.

Without warning, a shed comes from his left and knocks him out of the storm. He hits the ground forcefully, leaving an imprint in the ground below. He gets up and glides through the air back into the storm. He then heads straight towards the truck, grabbing it from the bottom and pushing it out of the storm, bringing it down slowly and grabs the door by ramming his hand into the body, ripping the door off and tossing it aside. He looks at Lana, her pretty hair all messed. Clark pulls the seat belt off of her and picks her up. Using his super speed, he runs to the farm and down into the cellar where he finds his mom, unconscious.

He lays Lana down gently and attends to his mother. He looks around for his father. He wasn't in the cellar. Clark was scared. He didn't know quite what to do. "Mom!" He checks her vitals, to make sure she was alive. He breathes a sigh of relief when she checks out okay. He gently pats his mother on cheeks, trying to get her to come to. "Mom. It's me, Clark. Come one, Mom. Wake up."

Clark looks back at Lana to make sure she was still alright. He notices the ship was gone. What the heck happened here? Clark thought. Where's the ship? He turns back to his mother. "Mom!"

Martha woke up with a start. She pushed herself away from her niece. She looked around, seemingly disoriented. "Where am I?!" she screamed, terrified.

"It's okay, Mom," Clark said. "We're in the cellar. Do you know where Dad is?"

"Who's Dad?" Martha asked. "Who are you? Why did you just call me 'mom'? We're in the cellar, which is *where*?" Martha's eyes were big. Her adrenaline was pumping--she was scared. She didn't know where she was, who this child before her was or even what she was doing.

Clark's eyes grew large and he became very frightened.