Earth One (Dc)
Clark tossed and turned in bed, restlessly replaying the conversation with Bruce in his mind. The knowledge that Bruce was aware of his powers had struck a nerve, leaving him unsettled and unable to find solace in sleep. However, there was a silver lining to the situation – Clark also knew Bruce's true identity.
The Thought of their mutual destruction, should either of them reveal the other's secret, brought an odd sense of comfort to Clark. It was a secret pact, unspoken yet shared, that bound them together in a delicate balance. Clark knew, without a shadow of doubt, that no matter what happened, he would never betray Bruce's secret.
But Bruce remained oblivious to Clark's unwavering loyalty. A small smile played across Clark's face as he pondered this knowledge. It was a power of his own, a trump card he held close to his chest. The thought of Bruce's ignorance about his true intentions brought a certain satisfaction to Clark, a secret amusement that he alone held.
Clark abandoned his futile attempt at sleep around 5 a.m. Instead, he tuned in to the sounds echoing through the prison: the rhythmic breaths of fellow inmates, the solitary cries of an individual, and the prison guards' chatter about the recent football match. His superhuman hearing, previously untapped, now pushed its limits.
Suddenly, two inmates' voices reached him. Straining to catch every word, Clark discerned their conversation. They mentioned the "big man." Intrigued, he sat up, listening intently. Their words chilled him: "He wants the farmboy dead before he returns to trial. Catch him off guard during breakfast. Swift and silent."
Clark's senses sharpened, and he knew he had to act.
Clark stood up and walked to the end of his cell. Looking for where the voices were coming from. He couldn't quite see the ground level opposite so he used his x-ray vision, finally pinpointing them. "How am I going to solve this one" Clark thought.
Clark experienced a sudden revelation. He pivoted, assessing his cellmate's state. The man seemed asleep, but Clark's superhuman hearing honed in. Confirming the slow, steady rhythm of the man's heartbeat, Clark gained confidence that he was indeed unconscious.
Clark glanced up at the faint light filtering through his cell. With a focused gaze, he activated his heat vision, extinguishing the light. Now enveloped in complete darkness, he double-checked his cellmate's condition. Satisfied that the man slept soundly, Clark hovered off the ground, ascending to the top of his cell. His heat vision targeted the lock of the conversing inmates, fusing it seamlessly.
Returning to the floor, satisfaction etched on his face, Clark settled back onto his bunk. Sleep still eluded him that night, replaced by the weight of his situation.
The following day arrived, and Clark felt an even greater weight of anxiety. As he made his way to the main eating area, he noticed the two inmates attempting to pry open their cell door. As Clark was looking, one of the inmates looked up at him. He's eyes shooting daggers at Clark. Clark turned away and headed for breakfast. Breakfast if one could even call it that, consisted of watery porridge—truly awful—but Clark forced it down. He had 30 minutes before he would leave for court. On his way back to his cell, he passed the inmates once more. This time, three guards and an engineer were working to unlock the door. Clark couldn't help but chuckle to himself, a huge grin on his face. In this breif moment Clark was content.
The trial, which was already going terribly, now threatened to condemn him to twenty long years behind bars. Frustration gnawed at him as he observed his lawyer's growing incompetence. It was at that moment, in the midst of his despair, that Clark made a pivotal decision — he would represent himself. Anything had to be better than the current trajectory of his defence.
But just as he was about to seize control of his own fate, a commotion erupted from the back of the courtroom. Clark turned his head, his heart leaping with surprise. There, striding confidently into the room, was none other than Bruce Wayne. The mere presence of the enigmatic billionaire commanded the attention of everyone around him, including Clark.
And as if Bruce's entrance wasn't enough, he was accompanied by a man who exuded an air of wealth and power that matched Wayne's own. This impeccably dressed individual stepped forward, his voice resonating with authority. "May I approach?" he requested, his eyes fixed upon the judge. His claim of possessing pertinent information for the case hung thick in the air, injecting a flicker of hope into Clark's heart. Perhaps, against all odds, a glimmer of salvation had appeared on the horizon.
After consulting with the judge, the lawyer approced and discreetly whispered something in Clarks lawyers ear. The man's eyes widened with a mix of shock and fear as he listened intently. Without hesitating, the lawyer abruptly stood up, panic etched across his face, and swiftly exited the courtroom, leaving his bag behind.
Clark watched this unfold as the new lawyer confidently took his place beside him. "Just sit back and watch the show," the new lawyer whispered, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Time seemed to stretch as the trial unfolded with lightning speed. Witnesses statements and evidence against him was obliterated in a masterful manner by the new lawyer. The prosecution's arguments crumbled under his relentless cross-examination, and the judge's expression shifted from scepticism to intrigue.
Within an hour, the trial came to a dramatic end. Clark stood stunned, unable to process what had just happened. The verdict echoed in his ears: He was acquitted on all counts. Gratefulness surged through him, mixed with bewilderment. How had this whirlwind turn of events occurred so swiftly? Clark couldn't help but think, "I'm glad this man was on my side."
As the courtroom cleared, Bruce approached Clark. "At last, some justice for you, Clark. Now, maybe you can mourn your mother properly," he said. Pausing briefly, he added, "I have a proposition for you. Would you care to join me for dinner? we could discuss it there."
Aware of Bruce's role in his acquittal, Clark felt a deep sense of gratitude and was eager to reciprocate the kindness. "I would be happy to," Clark replied, acknowledging Bruce's dinner invitation. Once their conversation concluded and they had expressed they're thanks to the lawyer, it was decided that Clark would accompany Bruce.
They left the courtroom together, as they got outside the fresh air hit Clark's face; it felt wonderful, he took a deep breath breathing in his freedom. They approached a black limousine where an older gentleman stood. He opened the door for them both. "Good evening, Mr. Bruce and Mr. Kent," he greeted. Clark smiled, and Bruce replied, "Thank you, Alfred." Clark remained silent for most of the trip, gazing at the wealth on display.
After their meal, Bruce got to the point. "I know about your abilities, and you're aware of my secret. There's a problem in Gotham City—Lex, the man behind your false charges, is also a threat to the city. I need your help to stop him."
Clark met Bruce's gaze firmly. "I won't resort to violence," he declared.
Bruce nodded in understanding. "I thought as much, I've devised a plan that won't require that," he assured. Over the next hour, Bruce outlined his strategy. The more Clark heard, the more he agreed with the approach. They shook hands, agreeing to reconvene in Gotham City the next day.
Following a brief exchange of pleasantries, Clark decided it was time to head home. He politely excused himself and made a quick stop at the restroom. Moments later, thanks to his superhuman speed, he was back at the family farm, having left the restaurant in the blink of an eye. He noticed the familiar van parked along the main road, not far from the farm. Feeling weary and preferring not to engage, Clark settled onto the living room couch, disregarding the disarray left by the police's search. As he closed his eyes, he drifted into the deepest, most peaceful sleep he'd had since the whole ordeal started.
Clark's dreams were filled with joyous memories of times spent with his parents. As morning light streamed through the window, he awoke refreshed. After enjoying breakfast, he indulged in a long, deserved shower, and dressed in clean clothes. With time to spare before his appointment at Wayne Manor, Clark decided to thoroughly inspect the house and barn, utilizing his X-ray vision he searched the entire house. While searching his mothers room he discovered a hidden box within his mother's bedroom wall. He examined the wall feeling for a hidden area. He noticed a faint seam and pushed. Part of the wall clicked and came forward, revealing a wooden rectangle box. He carefully took it out and looked inside. He found a note and a peculiar green crystal prismatic in shape, and pointed at each end. The note, aged and worn, read:
"Dear Martha,
I regret keeping this secret from you. Recall when Clark's accident occurred, and the ship intervened? Afterwards, I approached the ship and found this crystal emerging from it. Upon contact, I had a vision instructing me to pass this to Clark when he turns eighteen, and to protect it at all costs. I plan to secure this note in a bank safety deposit box next week. Should I pass before Clark's 18th birthday, the bank will inform you of the security box and you will be reading this letter."
"Remember that winter day when I tripped, and my head hit the wall? Well, that place we found, is now hiding something of Clark's".
"I love you Martha
Your Johnatan."
Realizing his father's untimely demise prevented the plan's fulfilment, Clark examined the glowing crystal. Compelled to head north, he resisted the urge for now, took one final glance at the letter, and incinerated it with his heat vision, leaving no trace. He pocketed the crystal and stood, ready to depart for Gotham, but not before dealing with the suspicious van outside.
Clark glided silently toward the van, hovering just out of sight of its sole occupant. With a sudden bang, he slapped his hand on the roof, startling the man inside. But that was just the beginning. Using a combination of superhuman speed and powerful blows, Clark unleashed a flurry of slaps on different parts of the van. The man's panic was palpable; he fumbled to start the engine, desperate to escape.
Yet Clark had other plans. Anchoring himself to the bumper, he halted the van's desperate getaway. The tires screeched, struggling for traction against his strength. With a violent rocking motion, Clark shook the van, rattling its very core. The driver, defeated, flung open the door and tumbled out. He scrambled to his feet and sprinted away, never daring to glance back.
After the man was out of sight Clark tore the metal panels apart, bending them like paper. The van's engine sputtered and died, smoke billowing from its twisted frame. Glass shattered, and the tires deflated under the pressure of his will.
Clark gazed downward, a rare satisfaction settling within him. Destruction wasn't his preference, but this time, it was a necessary deviation. The man's bewildering tale and the van's battered condition would surely sow seeds of confusion, granting Clark precious time for investigation. Without hesitation, he propelled himself toward the distant silhouette of Gotham City, purpose burning in his veins.
Earth Prime (Db)
For the past few days, Goku had been diligently following the AI's instructions. Although he didn't fully trust it, he felt confident that he could handle whatever challenges the AI threw at him. Finally, everything was prepared for the transfer of the AI into its new android body. The android had a familiar appearance, somewhat reminiscent of Eighter, but slimmer—a clear departure from the refined androids he had previously battled.
"Goku," the AI interrupted his thoughts. Goku looked up slowly. "Apologies," he said, "I was distracted."
"It's alright," the AI replied. "We're almost there. Just one more step. Take the red cable and plug it into the left ear of the android."
Goku followed the instructions, connecting the cable as directed. "Excellent," the AI continued. "Now plug the other end into this terminal here. Then press Enter on the keyboard."
Once again, Goku followed the instructions, inserting the cable. He then hurried over to the keyboard, frantically searching for the elusive Enter key. After much head-scratching, he turned around and asked, "Err, which key is that?"
The AI's frustration grew. Goku seemed impossible to teach. In a robotic voice tinged with irritation, it explained, "Look for a line that goes down, then to the left. At the end of it, there's an arrow."
"Which way is left?" Goku inquired.
The AI sighed internally. It was convinced that Goku might age into oblivion before this transfer was complete. "Here's what we'll do," it said. "Place your finger over a key. I'll say 'next' if it's not the correct one. When I say 'THAT ONE,' press it."
And so, with patience (and perhaps a touch of exasperation), the AI guided Goku toward the elusive Enter key.
A progress bar materialized on the screen, inching forward at a glacial pace. Within the first five minutes, Goku was restless; by the ten-minute mark, he set off to scavenge for food. Returning after a while, he discovered the progress bar had only reached 15%. With nothing left to do but sleep, and dying of boredom a real possibility, Goku naively succumbed to slumber, leaving him at the mercy of the Ai.
Several hours later, he was jolted awake by a growing energy. The sight of a dark abyss occupying the centre of the room. "W-What's that?" Goku stammered. "That is your exit and my method of disposal," the AI, now inhabiting an android vessel, declared. "O and Goku your to late to save your friends, hahahahahaha." With that, it delivered a formidable shove, catapulting Goku into the swirling void.
Earth Two (Db)
After establishing his new secluded cave base, Dr Gero successfully installed incredibly strong reinforced steel doors that were over 10 foot in depth. These doors were so impenetrable that nothing stood a chance of getting through them.
On a nearby bench, Android 16 rested, still partially constructed but with much work left to be done. Determined, he whispered to himself, "One day, Goku, I will exact my sweet revenge."
Authors Notes:
Thanks for the follows and likes everyone.
I included a reference to Eighter for those of you who watched DB.
@Skxawng asked why the Ai pushed Goku though, when he would have gone willingly.
Simply put its and explanation for the timing in the second Db universe, also this Ai is built by the Dr himself, so I personally think it would have some of the traits that the Dr would have. The Dr hates Goku so some of this will have rubbed off on the Ai.
Lastly to avoid confusion about universes I'm explaining it below.
Earth Prime: This is where the story starts set in the dB world. Goku losses everything here
Earth One: This is the world of Clark, so a normal DC world with a few of my takes on it.
Earth Two: This is where the younger Dr is and where Goku was sent to.
Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. See you next week.