"Reason"
Part 3 of 4
by Steave
She could hardly believe it, she had just had a conversation with a god.
he had stood on the rooftop only moments earlier, in all of his majesty. His cape billowing in the wind like some king or warrior of the medieval ages. His looks, oh God his looks. She had never seen anything that amazing before. He was just . . . undescribable. And here she was, on top of the Daily Planet, smoking a cigarette.
"Lois!"
The voice was unforgettable, and so was the pitch. Perry White was standing at the door that led to the roof.
"Yes, Perry?"
"It's about time I found you, anyways, come down to the office, I want to talk to you."
"Sure thing Perry."
Superman, was all that she could think of. The . . . Man of Steel.
--
He stood in the cold sanctity of his home . . . his Fortress.
He had finally revealed himself to the world, this great world. He couldn't even begin to descibe how good it had felt, after all of those years of hiding and secrecy, he could show himself to the people. Free, was all he thought, finally free.
"How did it feel, Kal?"
The caring and kindest voice in the galaxy asked him. He was staring at one of the crystal pillars, which bore the image of an elegantly dressed man with a symbol on his neck that was symmetrical to the one on Kal's on chest.
"It felt . . . great father."
"I was afraid of that . . ."
"Afraid?"
"Once you showed yourself to the world, I knew that there would be nothing else I could do. You have grown up, my son. My teachings for you are complete."
"No father, there are still lessons, teachings that I must learn."
"I'm afraid that the rest of your lessons, Kal-El, must be learned by experience, not by mere discussions with your father."
"But . . . father . . ."
"My son, I have never, and will never leave you. I'm sure that you have ascertained that these are mere recordings, and nothing more. My spirit, however, will live on in you . . . and so will my love for you. My son, beware of the dangers of showing the world who you are, and tread lightly, for who knows what evils lurk about in this world. With this, I leave you my son. Goodbye, for my love will forever be with you . . ."
"Father . . ."
The image faded, until all Kal was watching was a motionless crystal. He was alone, again, and he felt that he would be until the end of his days.
--
Superman, was all that she was thinking, even amidst all of Perry's rambling.
"I mean, he's here one second, and he's gone the next. I want to know who the hell he is. How the hell he does even one fourth of the things he does. Why does he do it? Where did he come from? Why is he here? All of those things, do you understand me?"
Lois finally snapped back into the real world, "Of course Perry."
"Good, now then, with Jimmy out of commission for a few days, you're going to have to take some pictures yourself, is that ok?"
"Yeah, sure Perry."
"Alright, well . . . where's Kent?"
"Who?"
"KENT!"
Perry spung on his heels to find that the mild-mannered reporter was stumbling and bumbling his way into his office.
"Oh, h-hi Mr. White."
"Kent, I've been looking for ya, where've ya been?"
"W-well, I was," Clark didn't even get to finish his sentence.
"Nevermind, the mayor requested an interview to give Metropolis his opinion of what's happened, I want you to conduct that interview Kent."
Lois began before Clark could, "No, I'll do it Perry. It'll give Clark a night off."
She looked at him and winked. Clark nearly doubled over from the look.
"Gee, thanks Lois."
"Anytime Clark."
Perry stated, "Well, that chopper oughta be getting here anytime now, so you better get to it."
"Sure thing Perry," she turned to Clark and put a hand on his shoulder, "goodnight Clark."
Lois, was all that he could think of, the female reporter of his dreams.
--
She was on the rooftop, once again, of the Daily Planet, only this time a chopper had landed to carry her off to her interview. Her head still hadn't cleared after all of the action from today. He just . . . wow, that was the one word that came to her head. Maybe Clark should've been the one to do this interview.
"This way Ms. Lane."
The pilot was helping her into the helicopter, they would be taking off any minute now. She couldn't wait for tomorrow, the interview of all interviews, her night with the Man of Steel.
The engine kicked to life and the rotors began to spin. She would take to the skies . . . just like him.
Just then, a noise, barely heard over the bustling roar of the helicopter's engine, rang out. The helicopter shook, and a creaking noise was heard. The rotors were stuck, and they were trying to break free.
The same noise rang out, and now she knew what it was, a bullet. It hadn't even been a second after she heard the shot when she and the helicopter were rocked by an explosion from underneath the helicopter. The massive vehicle rolled on the rooftop and then finally plunged towards the ground.
She screamed at the top of her lungs, not even overcoming the engine's clamor. There was no hope, she had survived one explosion only to be killed by another. There would be no Man of Steel, no savior, only death.
How could he let her die?
With a jerk and a sudden stop, the helicopter was in suspended animation. They were halfway down from the rooftop to the ground, and now they were going back up. She was astounded, and didn't know what to do.
When they reached the rooftop, the helicopter door ripped open and standing there, was her hero. Superman, in all of his glory.
"Just couldn't get enough of me could you?"
She blushed and turned her flushed cheeks, because she hadn't gotten enough of him. He extended one of his massive hands and helped her out of the helicopter. The pilot followed suit.
"I hope this hasn't deterred either one of you from flying. Statistically speaking it's still the safest way to travel."
He then turned and flew off, leaving both the pilot and Lois in amazement.
Once he reached the adjacent rooftop, he had already found him. The perpetrator for blowing the Daily Planet and the helicopter.
He pulled out a handgun and fired one shot, it bounced off of Superman like it was made of plastic. Reaching out for it, he grasped the gun from the man's hands, he crushed it. With the other, he raised the man off of the ground and unmasked the man of black.
He was Arabian . . .
Oh God he thought, this won't go over well . . .
