Chapter 3 [Granville, KS—A couple of hours later]

Half a world away from Clark's sinking romantic fortunes, the moon dominated a crystal clear Kansas night. The stars twinkled brightly against Nocturne's inky backdrop. A gentle breeze rustled the trees and wheat behind farmers' barns. A few couples walked amidst the cues looking for their own sparks.

And one person searched for something else….

On the corner of 11th and Hutchinson in the heart of Granville's art district, the Lowell County Museum held many distinct art treasures for its patrons to enjoy. Paintings hung on its walls from all eras. Farming implements stretched back from the dawn of time to the present. On permanent loan from Topeka, the original charters for that area's settlement sat under glass. Of course there were other exhibits as well.

The facility remained dark as it was long after closing hours. Normal locks and security devices secured the doors. Only a sliver of light from a back corner office revealed the sole soul left in there at that hour.

Lana Lang read over yet another quarterly report for the ISIS Foundation. Her eyes scanned over the data and footnotes digesting them for her brain's use. Elation washed over her from the evidence of her beneficial donor activity….

…money coming from the ever-increasing investments powered by the money she'd taken from Lex prior to their divorce….

Better it helps people than in one of his domination schemes. She kept reading for a few more minutes trying to press on toward the end of this particular report before heading home for the evening. She felt compelled to get as much done…and waste as little time as possible.

Then Pain thrust its sharp dagger through her shoulder blades. She burned and spasmed from its fire. Her limbs jerked out of control in all directions. She hacked heavily while trying to will herself to not spit in all directions.

For several minutes this assault continued before it ceased again.

"Damn. That's getting worse," she groused. She breathed in and out while trying to collect herself. Then she opened her desk drawer and took out a canister of bleach cleaning wipes. She practically scrubbed the exposed areas of her desk before her eye caught something.

Specks of blood pocked the material in her hand.

She frowned while feeling the knotting in her stomach again. She knew the doctors in Smallville wouldn't be able to do anything for her. She knew because her situation had baffled the doctors at the best cancer centers around the world already. Still she knew what it was.

The Promethius suit…

Or rather Lex's stratagem to use it to split her and Clark apart….

She exhaled again and fished through her purse. She needed the orange vial therein to be able to get home. After several seconds of searching, her fingers seized onto it and wrestled it from the papers in the bag. With some effort, she opened the vial and set it down on the desk before her hand started shaking again….

…no sense in playing fifty-two pick up at that hour…

Her hands twitched but didn't shake. They seemed unusually steady for that situation.

She set her jaw and took a couple of the grey pills from the vial. She considered their rhombus shape and lack of weight in her hand….

…still they were slowing down the poison raging through her body…

…the cancerous tumors caused by the Kryptonite poisoning from that suit….

…the effects continuing even after she'd had the suit removed….

She inhaled the pills and chased them with a gulp of water from the bottle at her right. Then she reclined for a couple of minutes more as the drugs took effect. She smiled as the pain eased for the moment. She felt the spasms subside. She regained some measure of control. Still she knew the euphoria was short lived.

The pills, part of an experimental trial batch from Zurich, already were losing their effectiveness against the menace raging through her. At first, two pills would've bought her a week's relief. Now that time was down to maybe a day if her luck held out.

This is depressing. Honestly! She powered down her computer and stood slowly from her chair. She allowed her legs a minute to get their feeling back after sitting for so long. Then she slowly walked with effort toward the door.

There her sole companion, a cane carved exquisitely from cherry wood, waited for her.

While she needed it, Lana clearly resented it. She wasn't even thirty yet. She should have still been running around and helping others. She should have been at her physical peak. And here she felt the first waves of mortality…of her impending death…. She grabbed onto the cane's head and limped in frustration out of the office. After securing the door, she efforted herself down the hall, toward the main entrance and the parking lot beyond. She pressed across the asphalt letting the cool night air calm her ever so slightly. She unlocked her blazer and got inside.

A cold shiver jarred her again.

Just get to sleep. It'll be better in the morning! She turned the key and drove off into the night toward home.

Question was though where would she go from here?