A Visitor in the Night
The apartment was quiet, the dim light of the city casting long shadows across the walls.
Jimmy Olsen sat at his desk, flipping through old photographs. His mind raced with thoughts of Clark. His suspicions had been growing for months—Clark Kent was not normal. And now, thanks to Chloe, he was certain.
But he needed proof.
Then—
A sudden gust of wind.
The lights flickered.
A presence.
Jimmy barely had time to react before the air seemed to crackle with energy. From the darkness, a figure emerged.
Tall. Pale. Eyes burning like black holes.
A Phantom.
It stepped forward, its form shifting like a shadow in the dim light. It was searching. Hunting.
For one person.
Phantom (low, distorted voice): "Where is Kal-El?"
Jimmy froze. That name—Kal-El. He had never heard it before, but something about the way it was spoken sent a chill down his spine.
His instincts screamed at him to run. But his curiosity? That was stronger.
He slowly raised his hands. "Whoa, whoa, whoa—who the hell are you?"
The Phantom didn't answer.
Instead, without even moving, an invisible force wrapped around Jimmy's throat.
His feet lifted off the ground. His hands clawed at his neck.
Phantom: "Where is Kal-El?"
Jimmy's vision blurred as his air supply cut off. He gasped, struggling. The pressure was immense—inhuman.
Through his haze, he heard the Phantom's voice again.
Phantom: "The man always seen with the woman… Chloe Sullivan."
Jimmy's eyes widened.
Clark.
They were talking about Clark.
The pieces clicked together.
Clark had always disappeared. Always had perfect timing. Always seemed too normal.
Jimmy knew.
Clark Kent was not human.
Jimmy gasped for breath, barely managing to croak out, "I… I know who that is."
The Phantom narrowed its eyes. The grip loosened, and Jimmy crashed to the floor, coughing.
Phantom: "You will tell me."
Jimmy rubbed his throat, trying to catch his breath. Then, something occurred to him.
Where the hell did this thing come from?
He looked up at the Phantom, still looming over him like a nightmare.
Jimmy (hoarse, but determined): "Where the hell are you from?"
The Phantom tilted its head, as if considering. Then, in a voice that sent chills down Jimmy's spine, it said:
"Krypton."
Jimmy's breath hitched.
Krypton.
Not human.
Not even from Earth.
Jimmy understood everything.
Clark Kent…
Kal-El…
Clark was one of them.
His heart pounded. His mind raced.
He had just uncovered something unbelievable.
But he didn't feel fear.
He felt power.
Slowly, Jimmy stood, brushing dust from his jacket.
A smirk curled his lips.
"You want Kal-El?" Jimmy said, his voice dripping with malice. "I can help you find him."
The Phantom's gaze locked onto his.
A silent deal was made.
A Mother's Embrace
Moscow. Midnight.
The office was quiet, save for the hum of distant traffic. The cold Russian air seeped in through the cracked window as Martha Kent leaned against her desk, rubbing her temples.
She had been working late—again.
The past few weeks had been exhausting. Meetings, negotiations, endless paperwork.
And now, she just needed a moment.
Sighing, she walked over to the window, opening it wider to breathe in the crisp night air.
Then—
A shadow passed over the sky.
A shape.
A figure.
Her heart stopped.
Before she could react, he appeared.
Clark.
Floating just outside the window, his cape barely shifting in the wind.
Her breath hitched.
"Clark?" she whispered.
His boots touched the floor as he stepped inside, standing in front of her like a ghost from her past.
She stared.
Her son.
Her boy.
The little farm kid who used to race through cornfields…
Now a man who could fly across the world in seconds.
Tears welled in her eyes.
"Clark!" She pulled him into her arms, holding him tightly.
For a moment, he let himself sink into the warmth of her embrace.
Her voice was full of shock and worry. "What are you doing here? What's wrong?"
Clark hesitated, his hands tightening around her shoulders.
"I just needed to see you," he admitted.
Martha pulled back, her mother's instincts kicking in immediately. She searched his face.
Something was wrong.
His eyes—always kind, always full of warmth—were dim.
He looked lost.
"Clark…" she said softly. "Talk to me."
He exhaled, glancing away. He couldn't tell her everything. Not yet.
Instead, he said the only thing that mattered.
"I miss Dad."
The words hit Martha like a knife to the heart.
Jonathan Kent had been gone for years. But the pain never faded.
She swallowed hard, cupping Clark's face. "I know, sweetheart. I miss him too."
A silence settled between them.
Clark took a breath. Then another.
For the first time in weeks, he felt okay.
Clark shook his head slowly. "It's not that simple, Mom. There's so much happening. I don't even know where to begin."
She led him to the small couch, her hand on his back guiding him to sit. She had always been his steadying force, the one person he could turn to, no matter how dark his world became.
"You don't have to tell me everything all at once," Martha said softly, her voice full of love and understanding. "I'm just glad you're here. But I want you to know, you're not alone. Whatever is going on, we'll figure it out together."
Clark exhaled slowly, as though releasing a burden he had carried for far too long. "I don't know if I can fix this. I've kept so many secrets, Mom. From you, from Chloe, from everyone... and now it's all catching up to me."
Martha sat beside him, placing a hand on his. "Secrets are heavy, Clark. But you've carried them for so long because you thought they would protect the people you love. You're not a monster for trying to protect them."
"I feel like I'm failing," Clark confessed, his voice cracking slightly. "Everything's falling apart. And I can't stop it. I don't know how to stop it."
Martha squeezed his hand gently, a tear slipping from her eye, though she held it back with a smile. "No one can carry the weight of the world alone. And I'm so proud of the man you've become. But it's okay to ask for help. It's okay to lean on those who love you. Including me."
Clark's heart clenched as he looked at her, his mind racing with the revelation that he might be unable to stop the Phantom, that someone from his past—someone who knew too much—was threatening everything he held dear.
"But what if I can't protect you, Mom?" Clark's voice wavered. "What if the things I've kept hidden… if they come for you?"
Martha's gaze softened, and she pulled him into a tight hug, the warmth of her embrace momentarily stopping the chaos that had been swirling in Clark's mind. "You'll protect me, just like you always have. And if anything comes for me, we'll fight it together. I'll stand by you, no matter what happens."
Clark clung to her, feeling the weight of the world ease just slightly. The pain, the guilt, the fear—if only for a brief moment—seemed lighter in her arms.
"Thanks, Mom," Clark whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without you."
"You don't have to," Martha replied softly, her voice full of warmth and unwavering love. "You'll never be alone, Clark. You've always been the light in my life, and no matter what darkness you face, I'll always be here to guide you back."
They sat in silence for a while, the world outside feeling distant and irrelevant in that moment. All that mattered was the love they shared—a love that had endured countless trials, and one that Clark knew he could always return to, no matter how broken the world seemed.