PENTAGON, WASHINGTON D.C.
General Samuel Lane walked as fast as he could down the hallway, making the heels of his boots making loud clacks on the hard floor while tucking his service cap into his arms. He had heard the news already, but for something so unusual, it was hard to concentrate on the best course of action to take. There would be the pressures from those politicians he tried so hard to please, in addition to informing the president of the current situation. Despite how unfamiliar this circumstance was, he had an obligated duty to remain calm as General.
Sam walked into the room that had at least twenty people at their terminals. Only a few people could turn their heads. What they were seeing was far beyond what they could comprehend. Their consoles emitted an ominous blue and green mixture that lit the room into a bright turquoise aura. In the room waiting for him was Lieutenant General Calvin Swanwick, who had a face of extreme anticipation but couldn't hide it from his superior officer.
"When did we pick this up?" Sam asked, approaching his colleague and keeping his scowling no-nonsense demeanor.
"About half an hour ago, sir," Calvin replied accordingly. He led Sam to the table in the middle of the room, where a large table had been laid. As the two men neared it, Calvin fingered the console keys, and soon enough, a holographic image materialized, suspended just a couple of inches above the flat warm surface. The image was transparent, but Calvin adjusted the sharpness until the image was opaque as if a large photograph was hanging in front of him. It was still pixelated, but it was lucid enough to decipher what it was showing.
"This satellite image was taken about fifteen minutes ago," Calvin explained. "It was the clearest image we were able to capture. Radar's been acting funny for the past half hour and we've estimated the diameter of this thing to be about five hundred kilometers."
Sam gave him a look. "Do we know that if this has anything to do with the Metropolis Airport?"
"Unable to tell," Calvin answered. He pulled out a small silver box that projected an image of an earlier report on the plane. It also projected the news anchor that described that witnesses were saying that a 'flying-man' was responsible for carrying the plane back to the airport without any reported casualties.
"Flying man", Sam scoffed ever so softly. Was this Lois' idea for being so inventive?
"But," Calvin continued, possibly hearing his C.O.'s words. "We picked this image up less than an hour after the airport incident. The timing is too precise to be a coincidence."
Sam pursed his lips in contemplation. At the same time, Calvin was right to believe this, yet there was still uncertainty. "How do we know this isn't a comet or some large meteor?"
Turning off the projection and discarding the silver box, Calvin said, "it's making a certain trajectory change, General. Naturally, meteors have one path, but this has been making a peculiar path as if it was making a course change. We've projected that this object is slowing down right outside our atmosphere."
"Enemy fighter or a MiG?"
"Not likely. No radio signals detected, and this isn't some kind of stealth technology either."
Sam looked at the image on the screens again. The static resolution of the object was hard to make out, but whatever it was had a certain shape. The top of the object was dome-like, but its bottom portion was something else. The bottom was harder to decipher, but from what it looked like, the bottom was a series of complex shapes that made up the entire bottom half, all of which were covered by the upper dome. The infrared versioned image had the object's color as mostly blue and the outline of the object was slightly more visible than the unaltered image.
"Has any attempt been made to try and communicate with it?" Sam asked painstakingly.
"We got people at N.A.S.A. and the S.E.T.I. working on that, sir. We've picked up their radio signal, but we haven't received any kind of response. Luckily, we haven't received word from the media—or better—the public that there is an object heading toward us."
"As of now," Sam grumbled worriedly. "If anyone like my daughter were to hear about this, they're going to have a field day with this thing and never let it go."
"Sir!" said one of the analysts. "If this object is continuing its trajectory, we've estimated that it could potentially enter our atmosphere in the next twenty minutes."
Sam looked at both images again, feeling a cold uneasiness. "Whatever this thing is, it's not comforting," he said as he reached for a nearby phone that was sitting on one of the desks of the analysts. "This is General Lane. Get me the Secretary of Defense. Also, notify the D.H.S. We have an unidentified object preparing to enter our atmosphere."
"Right away, sir," the answer on the other line said.
A striking high-pitched buzz suddenly seared through the room. There was a simultaneous cry from everyone, who then dislodged their headsets from their faces. The monitors began to flicker to blackness at an uneven tempo.
The same buzz was heard from Sam's phone, which he instinctively dropped. "What the hell?" he exclaimed before turning to Calvin. "Someone hacking into our systems?"
Calvin's only response was a pained face of the ear-splitting screech. Every day, this country's enemies would attempt to hack into their systems, but each time, there would be a hint or warning. This was far too prevalent. Everyone else in the room started squirming in their seats, clacking their keyboards and trying to vainly call tech support to see if there was a way to stop it.
After a couple of seconds, the blinking turned to static, converting the blue and green light to a pale white, giving more exposure to the entire room. The hiss of the static almost died immediately and made way for a barely audible high-pitched ambiance. Everyone's face shifted from confusion to even more concern as they witnessed their screens go from monitoring everything happening outside of the planet to nothing.
Then a figure appeared on the screen. From what was seen, the figure was human-looking. Or rather, it kind of did; it was hard to tell.
Sam and Calvin stared at the figure moving slowly through the many black and white speckles that danced on the screen.
"A 'flying man!'" Perry White shouted. He was almost excited, but this needed to be heard loud and clear.
The rest of the staff on the floor was called to a quick meeting ever since the Constitution's incident.
"This is big fish, people. Whether it's a robot, or a human experiment or a damn angel from the sky, I want to know about this one. Happening here in our city. In Metropolis! People, this kind of thing landed right in our lap—there you are!"
Clark and Lois were squeezing their way through the main floor's crowd, trying to get in Perry's eyesight.
"Got anything?" he asked eagerly.
"Everything," Lois said proudly.
"Good," Perry said quickly, "but we need more."
Lois rolled her eyes, but she knew that this was typical of him to say.
"As I was saying, this 'flying man' is here in our city, people! Our city! This is a gold mine once in a lifetime shot here! We need to know everything we can about this 'flying man'. Some are thinking it's some hoax, but we all saw this. You saw it, didn't you, Lois?"
Lois nodded enthusiastically.
"We need the truth. I want to know how he flies. I want to know how he can lift a goddamn plane with two hands. I want to know if he's even human."
"He is human, Mr. White," Clark said, triggering everyone's head to turn towards him.
"And how would you know that, Kent?" Perry asked with anticipation.
Clark blinked and felt as if a heatwave breezed into his cheeks. Why did that come out?
"Well, several eyewitnesses," he said hesitantly, "including the officers who were on the scene said they saw him. A-And they identified him as human, sir."
Perry looked confused, but then made a face that seemed like he was fascinated by this information.
"Alright then!" Perry said that made Clark jump. "So, he's human! Or looks human! If we can get anything on this guy, maybe even talk to him, this will be the interview of the whole damn millennia. What are you standing around for? Get on it! I want that story!"
Everyone on the floor quickly shuffled their feet and dispelled to their stations. Clark followed their pace while Lois went at her own. She calmly walked back over to her cubicle and dropped her papers flat on her desk, not even bothering putting them away.
Clark, on the other hand, was so ready to finally sit himself down and have a moment to collect. He didn't make it to his desk before he was interrupted by Jimmy Olsen, who wore an assertive curious face.
"Did you guys really see the flying man?" he asked excitedly.
A self-conscious smile stretched on Clark. 'Flying man' isn't really the kind of name he would have thought he was going to get.
"No, not really," Clark said in a low voice, trying his hardest to sound conversational. "We only got a glimpse of it."
"Aw, man," Jimmy sighed. "So," he said, changing to a lighter subject. "Working with Lois, huh?"
Clark let out a chuckle. "Yeah. She's something."
Jimmy scoffed lightly. "I'm sure that was fun."
"What do you mean?"
Keeping in a smile, Jimmy said, "You know, she's always on her feet, enough to drive you nuts."
"Yeah, literally she drove nuts," Clark nodded knowingly.
"Oh, let me guess—she dropped the F bomb."
Clark smirked awkwardly and spoke knowingly, "More than once."
Jimmy chuckled to himself. "Yeah, that's her. There were times she drove me here before I found a way to get myself to work, and she said some curse words I never knew existed."
Clark gave a look. All he could say after a few awkward seconds was, "wow." He glanced back over to where Lois had gone. She was going through all those papers that belonged nowhere in an excited fashion. How does she keep up with all that?
"So, anyway, did security say anything on the 'flying man'?" Jimmy asked.
"Not much," Clark said. "They couldn't get an I.D."
"Yeah, I heard about that. If you ever get the chance of seeing him again, try and get me on the scene."
"Yeah, will do," Clark said casually.
As Jimmy walked back to his station like everyone else on the floor, Clark fell into his seat so impactful that it seemed as if he had fainted in place. Thankfully, nobody saw that.
A big part of him just wanted to lay his head on the desk and sleep, regardless if he'd be caught right then and there. He kept the rest of his focus on his desktop with the notes that he took from the airport. It would be so easy and tempting to submit a story for the Daily Planet that he himself did this and write a personal experience. That would without a doubt give him the story of the year that Perry was itching for. Then again, he felt generous enough to have Lois to have her moment of writing something so big and so great in the paper like she said she always wanted. What would his parents say?
Clark then looked into his pocket for his phone. There were two missed calls and one voicemail. He listened to the voicemail that was coming from Jonathan.
"Clark," said Jonathan's voice. "I saw on the news that a 'flying man' saved an airplane from crashing. Son, I know it was you. Please pick up. Your mother and I are really worried about you. Please answer us."
Clark removed himself from his desk and headed out of the room and out into a hallway that was outside. His fingers danced around the screen and dialed his father's number.
Perry, Lois, Jimmy and the rest of the floor had their eyes glued to the overhead TV screen that overlooked the entire room. The image they were witnessing was a blurred zoomed-in, low resolution photo of something big and massive in the sky. The red banner underneath read, "BREAKING NEWS: UFO SPOTTED".
The shape of the entire object was an oval. From what people could see, the underside of the object looked like a smooth flat bottom and seemed to have small bumps that stuck out. From those little bumps were tiny lights that were barely visible from the broadcast's screen.
"Clark?" Jonathan's voice spoke.
"Dad," Clark confirmed. "Hey, sorry I couldn't call you. I was in a meeting. And, uh . . . yeah, that was me. The plane. I did it."
"Are you okay?" Jonathan's voice asked softly.
"Yeah. I'm fine."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm fine, Dad," Clark answered sincerely. He glanced around him to make sure no one could hear him. "I never realized how fast I really could fly until now. I can even fly faster than a jet! And I lifted the entire plane and carried it back to the airport with my own hands." Clark's tone settled down to uncertainty. "It was. . . it was amazing."
"What's on your mind?" Jonathan asked.
"I just. . .," Clark began before forcing out a slight chuckle. "You know, for such a long time, I thought about what you said. About being there for other people. And after I found out what I could do to make that happen, I thought about what it would've been like. And you know, it's . . . sometimes you think you have all the answers to something that you haven't done before because you know how. But until you really do it, you don't know what it's like. It's just overwhelming, you know?"
"I know. But it has happened," Jonathan said. "I know it's tough, but I want you to remember this—you made a choice. And that choice will reflect on the kind of man that your mother and I hoped you would be ever since we first saw you. And we are so proud of you."
Clark smiled widely as he lowered his head humbly. "Yeah, I know."
"Your mother wants to talk to you," Jonathan said, followed by a couple of seconds of silence before Martha's voice appeared.
"Clark?" her voice said.
"Hey, mom," Clark replied.
"You okay, honey?"
"I'm fine, Ma," Clark said, knowing fully aware of how worried she would be. "You don't have to worry about me."
"Worrying is second nature to loving," she reminded. "Did anyone see you out there? Do they know it was you?"
"Not that I know of." He sighed. "It's just . . . when I set the plane down and I saw everyone trying to look at me, all those eyes on me, I just flew away. You know, I thought I could handle it. But after they tried to get a look at me." Clark hung his head before shaking his head. The memory and thought of how those people swamping him with demanding questions was haunting. "I don't know."
"Well, the first step is always the hardest," Martha said. "We love you more than anything in the whole world. And you can be whoever you want to be. And remember what we told you a long time ago: once you start this, it's not something you can just change—"
A loud shrilling static exploded in Clark's ears. He cried out and dropped his phone onto the cold tile floor. He cupped both his hands with his ears as the effects of the sound still left a disorienting ring.
Amidst the unbearable shrill, a hidden muffled voice sounded. It almost sounded deep and robotic albeit disoriented. The screech covered it, but it was clear enough for it to be heard.
"You are not alone."
Clark turned his head as he heard the ominous words echo from his heightened hearing. The sound wasn't soft either. It wasn't too soft that he would have to listen very carefully to pick up. It sounded too loud almost as if it was a deafening announcement from the room where he had walked out of. And it definitely didn't sound too friendly . . .
Clark re-entered the room to find that almost every single person in their cubicle had their eyes glued to their monitors. There was a mixture of panic and annoyance in the air. Clark could hear several co-workers ask angrily, "are we being shut down again?"
He looked ahead and noticed that Lois, Perry, Jimmy and several other co-workers looking at the large TV screen mounted on the wall.
The monitors no longer displayed news articles or Microsoft Word documents, but they were showing static. It was strange, but Clark then noticed what everyone was specifically looking at beyond the static images. Several people were also staring at their phones which almost had the exact same image that depicted the moving motion of the figure.
A figure that seemed to be the outline of a human was moving behind the static.
"You are not alone," the same familiar voice said.
The static on the screen gave the voice a robotic-sounding growl.
"You are not alone. My name is Dru-Zod of the Hand of Rao."
Clark flinched as more words came to be.
"I come from a far-away world. I have journeyed through an ocean of stars across the galaxy. Apparently, your world has kept one of my citizens and has sheltered it for decades. All I ask is that this lone individual be returned in my care. His birth name is Kal-El of Krypton."
Clark's lips slightly parted, feeling his face whiten.
"If he is hearing this, then I have this to say: 'Kal-El, son of Jor-El, reveal yourself to the Hand of Rao. By now, your planet has detected us, and you will know where to find us. Come to us. You have one full day. If not, we will search for you under a peaceful procedure. For Kal-El to be returned to me, I will descend upon your land with peaceful intentions. Any signs of aggression will be met with ours. This is not invasion; this is extraction. Kal-El, I ask for your cooperation. You have one full day, or we will search for you through a nonaggressive manner. Come to us, alone and you, rest assured, will be treated with charity and kindness."
The figure behind the grey speckles of the static seemed to have faded away. The static then flashed white for a couple of times before it vanished, and the monitors returned to their original status as if nothing happened.
Everyone started exchanging reactions of "what the hell was that?" or "what the hell is a 'Kal-El'?".
Clark's face hadn't changed. He felt his face drain and turn white as he was still processing what he had just heard from the uncanny figure from the monitors. He hadn't heard the name "Kal-El" from anyone since that recorded message from his real parents in that rocket.
None of this was possible. He was told that the planet was destroyed. Did his father make a mistake? Maybe this 'Zod' had even more answers. He mentioned his father's name. And what did he mean by 'in my care'?
"Kent!" Lois' voice startled him back to reality. "Did you see that?"
"Yeah," Clark answered pensively.
He was unable to hear the rest of anything else that was said around him. His glasses began to fog as the base of his hair was starting to dampen. Judgements made an endless cycle replaying in his head about who this "Zod" was. Exposing himself out there was one thing, but the spontaneous message from someone out of this world would stir up a crowd. Clark feared that this would happen for a long time as one of his fantasies that potential survivors on Krypton would look for him.
Quickly thinking, he ran back to where he had last dropped his phone, which was thankfully away from the rest of the floor. He exited himself and found the phone face down on the floor. He redialed his parents' number and eagerly waited for a response.
"Clark?" Jonathan's voice came. Clark could sense his father's tone and it sounded unnerving.
"Did you guys see that?" Clark asked.
"Yes, we did," Jonathan said directly. "I'm not entirely comfortable with this. I'm not comfortable with the way he said we have one day to respond."
Clark hesitated. He couldn't help but silently agree under his breath. Zod's appearance did cause a stir that Clark wasn't hoping for when he wanted to reveal himself personally. "But, he's like me, Dad. This is probably the only chance I have to meet another one of my own kind. And he doesn't know anything about us. I've been thinking about this for a long time ever since you told me where I'm from, wondering what it would've been like if my life was different. Even if there was a way to know from another point of view."
"Clark—"
"l know you're scared," Clark interrupted. "l know. I am too. Everyone in the world just found out they're not alone. Now, I found out that I'm not alone."
Clark took a deep breath. "And I'm so sorry that I brought this all on you."
"Clark," Martha said, "Listen to me, baby. None of this was ever your fault, do you understand? You were never a burden. You are a joy. You've always been the greatest gift that ever happened to us. And we couldn't ask for a better child."
"I know," Clark said warmly. "You and Pa did the best you guys could do for me all my life up until now. This is my time now."
On the other end, nothing was said. A couple of seconds followed too much for Clark's comfort.
"l promise you, I'm not leaving you," he said. "l don't even think I could."
"It's like I said long ago," Jonathan assured softly with a hint of melancholy, "it's your choice, son."
"No matter what happens," Martha added, "we'll love you, no matter where you go."
Lois darted her eyes around her surroundings at her desk. Luckily, people were way too busy scrambling around the office to even notice her. "When did you see this thing?" she quietly asked into her phone.
"We only got word of it just now," Sam said on the other end. "And I don't want you to try anything and go near it."
"What exactly are you going to do?" Lois asked.
"That's none of your business," Sam responded sternly.
"Why?"
"You know damn well why. The minute I tell you, you're gonna write about it, and how my office is inept about doing their jobs. And I'm sick of it. We are sick of it."
Lois scoffed. That was pretty much the reception she was expecting just like almost any other conversation between the two. But this was too important to even try and cover up. "I'm just trying to know what the hell my own father's going to do. Not so I can write a third-grade essay on potential aliens."
"And I already told you."
Lois released another scoff. "So, you're not even going to tell me?"
"That's right," Sam answered right afterward. "This is a national security emergency, not an investigation."
The sound of an ended call chimed in Lois' ears, followed by her releasing an exasperated breath. Typical. Cursing under her breath, she looked back up atf the monitor that focused on the object that had remained in the sky for a while now.
Back at his apartment, Clark was watching the same thing. The news report replayed the ominous message that Zod had announced. The anchormen reported that the ship was spotted high above the area out in the High Plains in Kansas, just hours away from Smallville. The camera alternated nearly every five seconds between the anchormen and the ship that hovered in the sky. Several eyewitnesses on the scene took notice and uploaded numerous videos of it on YouTube, claiming that aliens do exist. Many experts on the subject were interpreting their own theories. Some were saying that this was in fact an alien from outer space, some were saying that this was an ultimatum for invasion, and several vloggers were saying that this was either all an elaborate hoax or an omen for the end of the world.
Either way, Clark knew better. It was almost frightening to see him being called by another name of someone that would've lived a much different life than being a reporter. Yet, there was an odd warmth to know that there was someone who really knew who he was and wasn't afraid to reveal himself. Despite the circumstances, Clark envied that bravery.
He looked into his closet and saw the one case that contained the rocket's contents. Digging through, he reached for the three uniforms—one that resembled his father, his mother and the one that had more emphasis on blue.
He figured that it would make more sense for him to be wearing the uniform that none of his parents wore. Besides, he liked that one the most. As he pulled it out, he saw that it was just about the same size as the rest of his body. It didn't seem to be affected by the time that had passed since its removal from the rocket. The 'S' shape on the front shined brightly from the angled light in the room, producing an inviting sensation. The redness of the cape was bright and thick enough to where it wasn't transparent through light. The blue also shined along with the rest of the suit, revealing the subtle details of the texture that reached the entire body, except for the cuffs, which were wrapped by metallic bands that had a much smoother surface.
Slipping the outfit on, he found that it was just about skintight as if it was just another layer of skin. It felt extremely light and almost no weight to it. He expected the tight fit would bring an uncomfortable overheating, but it didn't. It felt neither cold nor hot on the inside, but rather more congenial to what his body was already adjusted to, including the boots. Once he straightened out the very few wrinkles, he walked over to the mirror and looked at himself. He looked quite fancy. The combination of the dominant blue and the bits of red and yellow gave the entire suit a colorful attire. The mighty red 'S' against the yellow background was saturated along with the rest of the saturated blue body. The thick red cloak hanged down to just right at his calves. He was also impressed with how the suit emphasized his muscles. The suit had compensated for his stomach muscles, leg muscles and even his arms.
Taking pride, he flexed his arms in front of the mirror smiling to himself. As he did this, the suit hadn't tightened, but instead accommodated his movement, much to his astonishment. Balling his hands into firm fists, he then placed them on his hips. The sight of his elegant stature forced a bright grin on his face. He then laughed to himself, thinking that it just occurred to him that he looked like a clownish version of Peter Pan in that stance.
Getting the high level of confidence out of his system, he then looked out at the window in heavy pensiveness and contemplation.
Outside, the day was still as clear as it was before while the sun was beginning its drop over the horizon, giving way for the oncoming five o' clock evening. The opportunity to soar right out the window wouldn't draw too much attention from Clark's calculations. An apartment would be far less conspicuous and obvious than an open airfield.
Plus, he would be flying across the country—a first time for him. Something he had always thought about doing ever since the day he discovered that was entirely possible. Saving people from dying, flying across the country, wearing his Kryptonian suit made for him all along, meeting someone like him? How could today get any more exciting?
He then looked behind him to watch the look of concern and uncertainty from the televised news reporters. Their talks about a "flying man" saving a plane were surely causing many to worry. But soon, Clark thought, they won't have anything to be afraid of. They'll be shown that he can be something great for other people.
Recovering from the uncertainty, Clark locked his focus back on the window. Opening the latch to the sill, he lifted the pane open, letting in some of the outside air, letting Clark wonder if the rushing wind would have any effect on him while wearing this Kryptonian suit, unlike where he felt the looseness of his dress shirt and pants were tugging at him from earlier.
Just fly really high up, Clark thought to himself. As soon as you're up in the air, just take a sharp tum towards home and go as fast as you can. With every readiness in himself, Clark slightly bent his knees, eyeing the open window sharply. He tightened every muscle in his body and prepared his arms—
His phone rang.
Clark nearly stumbled as the sudden noise deflated the tension. Letting out a frustrated and disappointed huff, he walked over to where his phone was jingling.
It was an unfamiliar number, but it did have the same area code of Metropolis. Curious, Clark slid his thumb on the answer option.
"Hello?" he answered wonderingly.
"Kent!" Lois' bellowing voice made Clark recoil. "Where the hell have you been? The entire floor is going nuts about this! Aliens are landing!"
"I know, Lois," Clark answered, feeling his forehead dampening. "I'm sorry. There was a family emergency, I'll explain later."
"Kent," Lois stressed.
"Lois," Clark spoke firmly. Quickly regretting the tone, he returned to his normal self, "I'm sorry, but there was something going on, and I really need you to trust me on this. I promise I'll explain it to you, but it's really important to me right now."
"You better have a damn good reason, Smallville," Lois snarled before the chime of an ending call was heard.
As satisfying as that sound was, Clark resumed to his anxious self again, as many scenarios played out in his head. Lois wasn't stupid, and she definitely knew at this point that something was up. Sooner or later, she would have to be kept in the loop and it would be a wonder if she would be able to keep this a secret or would she have the audacity to report him right away. The phenomenon that he would be publicly exposed made him grimace. It would be frightening; everyone tugging at him, asking him endless questions about where he came from, why is he more powerful than everyone, why is he here . . . Either way, someone knew who he was, and it was time to meet him.
Huffing the negativity away, Clark looked back at the window and prepared himself again. Hoping for not another anticlimactic phone call, Clark rushed his stance this time and took off with a low boom that sent a small ripple of wind that where he once stood.
Holding his arms out for coordination, he steered away from the apartment building and began to shoot towards the southeast direction at a striking velocity. Clark was pleasantly surprised by how light and agile the suit made him feel as he soared through the air. He could barely feel the wind rushing through the Kryptonian uniform. No tugging; except for the end of the cape, which barely tapped at his calves.
It felt much different than all the other times he had from those practicing nights in his childhood and earlier today when stopping a plane crash. There was more freedom and more independence. This newfound sensation encouraged him to branch out on what else he was capable of. He only had a "full day", after all. With the leverage of his arms, Clark rolled, performing a complete barrel roll and spun. He exclaimed excitedly as he spun faster than he had anticipated and rotated himself over and over again like a roller-coaster. After he regained control of himself, he steadied himself back with his front face the earth below.
Next, Clark tried to go for a complete loop. He steered his arms and body upward and began to move upward. Keeping his arms in the same position, he kept turning and turning until he was completely upside down, facing the planet's blue ceiling. Eventually, he was back on his stomach once more, smiling brightly to himself. He then had another idea. A rather bold idea.
He repeated the same motion he made with his arms and began to rise once more. This time, when he faced the ceiling of the Earth, he steered forward and darted upward. After bursting through a patch of clouds, he made his way further, wondering if he would ever feel the lack of oxygen as he neared the barrier between space and Earth. So far, he felt nothing. He was worried but the temptation and amount of energy he was feeling was too great to back down.
Soon, the light blue of daylight began to gradually fade away into a blackened environment. Tiny white speckles of distant stars came into view against the black empty void of space. Clark looked beneath him and saw the blue sphere of planet Earth at his feet. As he looked more around him, he could make out the entire continent of North America as well as the sides of several other continents, all of which were thinly layered by several clouds. In front of him was nothing but twinkling stars that dazzled in the enchanting darkness.
Clark let out an incredulous laugh. Awesome! I can breathe in space! he thought to himself.
Since he had gone this far, he thought that he could try and fly towards the moon. He could walk on the moon and hang out there all day. He could travel to other nearby planets like Venus or Mars!
Figuring he had enough, he dove back into the planet's atmosphere. Soon enough, the warmth of Earth's atmosphere consumed him, but Clark felt no burns and his Kryptonian suit suffered none as well. Clark's surroundings turned brighter as he plummeted back to where the sea of clouds flowed.
As he returned to his regular pattern of facing ahead with his arms in front of him, he increased his speed and darted further toward the direction of Kansas state.
At one point, he peeked out below him and could make out several notable observations. He saw several forests and large bodies of water that belonged to a lake or river.
Tempted, he dove towards the water and was thankful that there wasn't anyone nearby. Or at least from what he saw. He slowed himself down just so he wouldn't pass over the whole lake at once as his front was about an inch or two away from the mirrored surface. He could feel the water slightly spray against him as his flight made a cutting wave on the water. He laid out one hand, careful of not breaking his trajectory and held it flat where his palm almost tapped the surface. Lowering his hand, we could feel his hand permeate and move through the water. The sensation gave Clark a beaming pleasure.
This feeling of absolute freedom was a lot like the same as it was on the night he first flew away from home and how he would admire the sight of being so high up. It was the same as it always had been since the day he decided it was best to be solo.
"So, it's true what they say."
The sudden voice cost Clark's concentration. The voice wasn't something picked up from a faraway distance where his heightened hearing could detect. It was clear as day. Flailing, Clark lost all balance and crashed through the water's surface. Returning to the surface, Clark looked up, and his heart skipped a beat.
He was looking at a fairly attractive middle-aged woman who was suspended in midair by nearly a meter or two away from the water's wet floor. Her short black hair nearly covered her sharp looking gaze. She had her arms folded and wore an expression that felt some pity to his clumsiness. She was also wearing a uniform that looked much like his, only there was no cape. The suit was all black and bore a different looking symbol than Clark's on her chest. From what it looked like, the symbol was a heavily slanted 'U' shape, with the ends bent opposite of each other as if it resembled an abstract image of a horseshoe.
"A G-type star can enhance our physiology," she said with a tone that said that she was impressed by herself.
Clark was too overwhelmed to get any kind of response out from his lips. His head felt frozen from any other kind of thought. So, this is a female Kryptonian in the flesh. Except she wasn't wearing white robes like he figured Kryptonians would wear.
"Is this an Earthian language?" she cocked her head and raised her eyebrows.
Clark blinked back into reality but was still stunned. "Yeah. Who are you?"
"My name is Ursa," she answered.
"I'm guessing you're with the Hand of Rao?" Clark asked.
"Indeed," Ursa smirked. "General Zod has been searching for you."
"'Zod'?" Clark raised his eyebrows. "Is he still over Kansas?"
"No," Ursa said before making a disturbed face, "he's here on Earth. I'm not aware of a crudely named planet known as 'Can's Ass.'"
Clark shook his head at this silly misunderstanding. "No. Kan-sas, the state, you know . . . uh, never mind. I'm Clark—" He caught himself and then said with poise, "I mean, Kal-El. Son of Jor-El."
Ursa lifted her head slightly back as if her expression was a face of admiration. She then raised her wrist to her mouth. "General, we've located him."
"Are you sure?" a voice said.
"Yes," Ursa said. "He wears the House of El's refugee uniform."
"I see," a voice said. "Good then. Bring him to me."
Returning to Clark, she said, "Kal-El, son of Jor-El, me. General Zod wishes your presence."
"Wait," Clark said as he rose out of the water and met the same altitude as her. "I have many questions. So, you're from the planet, Krypton?"
Ursa broke him off. "I know you have many questions, Kal," she said holding up a hand. "But rest assured, General Zod will answer whatever questions you may have concerning your heritage.
"But you are from Krypton," Clark pressed.
"Yes," Ursa replied easily. "As are you, I'm sure you've discovered."
"Yeah, long time ago," Clark said. "When I was a kid."
"Yes," Ursa understood. "Come with me, Kal. Follow me. And . . . I trust you will not fall again?"
Clark shrugged and fibbed, "still haven't gotten used to it."
"All in good time," Ursa said in confidence. "Follow me." She turned around before ascending and flew off.
Clark hesitated as he was impressed with how Ursa was handling her flying. No arms were out in front of her for coordination, except they were at her sides. Clark proceeded with his arms-out formation and followed her.