"Don't I seem like him?"
A flicker of genuine confusion crossed Clark's face.
His eyes, now golden again, looked over.
No…
Not quite.
It wasn't about looks or power but something deeper, more fundamental.
He wasn't the Clark Kent from Lock's memories, raised in a world of love and sunlight.
"That kid wouldn't be like you are now," Lock said with a soft smile. "The Clark I remember grew up in a warm, kind world."
"He'd fill the world with laughter, not… whatever this is."
"Even in a world torn by war and division, his solution was to help humanity grow."
"Not to control everything, turning people into docile 'worker ants' to 'solve' every potential crisis born of free will, locking humanity's potential in a stranglehold of…"
"Efficiency."
"Isn't that a good thing, Uncle?" Clark tilted his head, seeming to genuinely ponder the question.
"The 'efficiency' you're talking about—that's the narrow, shortsighted kind humans chased in the old days, right?"
"Producing useless goods, fueling endless internal competition, breeding conflicts and self-destructive tendencies."
"My Heaven," he paused, his gaze drifting as if piercing the clouds to the stars beyond, "pursues efficiency on a cosmic scale—the ultimate survival and expansion of civilization."
"Absolute survival. Absolute progress."
"Individual creativity and initiative might bring some minor, unpredictable value, but compared to the chaos, uncertainty, inefficiency, and risks they create?"
"It's negligible. Even a net loss."
"By eliminating those unstable variables, I've created a perfectly stable, controllable, predictable system."
"That's the highest, most perfect form of efficiency."
"In my system, every human's time is used effectively, serving the ultimate goal of civilization."
"They consume minimal energy, producing steady, predictable labor."
"Isn't that the ultimate use of 'human resources'?"
"This isn't just about people, Clark."
Lock's voice carried heavy concern as he looked at the eerily uniform, lifeless wheat fields in the distance. "You talk about efficiency, about maximizing resources…"
"But have you calculated the massive material costs of running your 'perfect machine'?"
"You mine the planet's core, drain oceans for energy, level mountains to build those endless grand structures… Is that really 'no waste' like you claim?"
"…"
"Uncle, you're joking, right?"
Clark seemed to stifle a laugh.
He slowly raised his hand, palm open toward the sinking sunset, as if he could hold the entire star.
"You're worried about wasting resources…"
"But have you considered…"
"Just our solar system alone has near-infinite resources, and I—"
"I can access them effortlessly."
"If I wanted, I could pull minerals and energy from Jupiter's moons, the asteroid belt, Mars… even any planet in the universe, to meet Heaven's needs at any stage."
"The resource bottlenecks that Ascendant Supernatural that plagued the old world? They don't exist for me."
His voice was calm, laced with an unsettling, absolute confidence.
"You see them as 'walking corpses,' but I see them as 'parts' ensuring civilization's progress."
"Uncle, you're judging my finely tuned machine through an overly emotional human lens."
"Look at my empire, at those magnificent starships."
"The old world teetered on the edge of self-doubt, infighting, and destruction. My world is steadily projecting humanity's strength and order across the stars."
"This is a feat no chaotic, individualistic civilization could achieve in ten thousand years."
"But under my absolute order, it's becoming reality."
"This is me, Clark Kent—"
"The will of a god!"
A god.
Really?
At this, a trace of undeniable sorrow crept onto Lock's face.
"Yeah…"
"Clark."
His voice was soft, heavy with resignation.
"That's the root of the problem…"
"You're not 'human' anymore. You're a 'god.'"
Exactly.
This world's Clark saw humanity from beyond the human perspective.
He spoke calmly of maximizing 'human resources,' of the stability of 'parts,' of eliminating 'variables.'
He looked down on humanity like an engineer inspecting assembly-line components, a chess player moving pieces, a deity orchestrating an ant colony's fate.
His thinking, his logic, his scale of value—it had all shifted to that of…
A god.
Would a god's reasoning align with a human economist or manager?
No.
His logic had transcended to that of a god.
Humans were mere parts to him.
Parts to ensure the eternal operation of civilization's grand machine.
He didn't need thinkers, artists, or innovators.
He needed absolute obedience, mindless 'parts.'
Perfect, uncomplaining, precise components.
To him, that 'quality' and 'reliability' far outweighed a hundred unpredictable, free-thinking, high-efficiency 'humans.'
In his hands, humanity had been 'bound,' stripped of its soul.
This debate wasn't even about 'efficiency.'
It was a fundamental clash over what makes humans human.
Clark had won the argument with his superhuman logic and power.
But clearly, he'd lost something essential—
The ability to understand pain, embrace vulnerability, believe in choice, and respect freedom…
His humanity.
When two sides operate on entirely different logical and value systems, words become useless.
No flesh-and-blood human would be swayed by Clark's cold logic.
Clark Kent had become, in the truest sense, a god among men.
Earth's god.
That must be why Bruce resisted him, while Themyscira stood by his side.
To the 'gods' of Earth, humans were just ants.
So why had it come to this?
If Lock's guess was right, there could only be one reason—
"No need to hide it from me, Clark."
Lock's voice carried a knowing sigh as he gazed at the last sliver of sunset.
"You became a 'god,' turned the world into this…"
"The root cause is to counter some threat so terrifying it could destroy Earth—even overwhelm you, right?"
He paused, piecing together scattered clues, his tone growing certain.
"Only in the most extreme wartime…"
"Would discipline and obedience be prioritized over individual initiative and creativity."
"You probably think humanity's natural, scattered freedom is too weak to face this unknown, apocalyptic crisis."
"So…"
"You had to use an iron fist to forge civilization into a unified, efficient, fully controlled…"
"War machine."
"And most importantly," Lock's voice grew heavy with confusion, "your body…"
"Carries mine and Dio's blood?"
Exactly.
From the moment he saw Clark, Lock had felt it.
Not just a familiar memory—but a resonance in their blood.
As expected, Clark's gentle expression froze for a fleeting moment.
Then it softened into a resigned, knowing smile.
"Can't fool you, huh, Uncle?"
He gave a small, helpless laugh, like a secret had been uncovered by family.
A brief silence settled, broken only by the low hum of the wind through the fields.
"A god invaded our world," Clark said softly. "It killed me once, or rather…"
"It killed all three of us."
"You two…"
"Gave me the only chance to come back."
A mask.
Blood.
A red stone Dio left behind, its origins unknown.
"The blood of kin gave me life. The mask and red stone together triggered an unbelievable resonance."
"The sun's light…"
"Refracted and focused billions of times across my dying body!"
"Not healing, Uncle."
"A trial."
His voice rose, his eyes reliving that glorious yet tragic moment.
"In the invisible ripples of my family's blood, amidst endless light and heat, baptized by the sun's raw power, I was reborn in the Fortress of Solitude."
Clark slowly clenched his fist.
The air around him trembled faintly with his unspoken power.
"The reborn me…"
"Was stronger. More… perfect."
Not boasting—just a cold, objective statement.
"Then I went to Apokolips…"
"And snapped that god's spine with ease."
"Or rather… the spine of one of that evil deity's powerful avatars in this universe."
"I killed him, and…" A flicker of fervent light gleamed in Clark's eyes, "I absorbed a fragment of his essence, meant only for him."
"So now…"
"His avatars across the multiverse, his descendants, followers, and countless greedy souls chasing his power fragments…"
"They've sensed me. Sensed the shift in this power."
"They're coming."
"For revenge, and to…"
Buzz—!
A faint, light-warping energy beam flickered from his eyes, curving in an impossible arc to erase a blooming wildflower in a distant garden, reducing it to nothing.
Omega Vision.
An ability derived from the Omega Effect, capable of erasing anything from existence at its core.
A power of Apokolips' New Gods.
Even after Darkseid's death, the Omega Effect would return to Apokolips, seeking the next being worthy of godhood.
But since Clark killed Darkseid on Apokolips, as someone with the 'qualities of a god,' he inherited this New God power directly.
"It's not just that I see Heaven's people as 'parts,'" Clark said with a wry smile. "My Omega Effect is just a fragment, so it relies on 'Control' to exist."
"Without 'Control,'" he continued, "the Omega Effect wouldn't function. So I need vast amounts of 'Control' energy to fuel it—and myself—for the coming war, right?"
"?!"
Clark's calm facade finally cracked.
He whipped his head toward Lock, showing genuine shock, even… tension.
"Uncle… you?! Has he already started invading your world?!"
His voice carried a rare urgency, as if fearing his efforts were in vain.
"No."
Lock shook his head, patting Clark's arm reassuringly.
"I just… heard about it by chance."
He kept his explanation vague.
"…"
Clark's body relaxed slightly, though his eyes remained heavy.
"Is that so? Well…"
"Good."
He looked to the horizon, his tone calm again but laced with resolve. "That evil god and his Apokolips legions could come for me—for this universe—any moment."
"To reclaim the Omega fragment."
"He's obsessed with becoming 'whole,' so the power in me is like a missing crown jewel. They'll cross countless universes to take it back."
Clark's voice was soft, stating an impending fate.
"In short…"
He turned, flashing Lock a smile brighter than the fading sunset.
"Don't worry, Uncle."
"Until I'm consumed or killed, you're all safe."
"Their target…"
"Is just me and this universe. You, Dio, Mom, and Dad—they'll all be safe."
"…"
Lock fell silent.
He looked at the man beside him, shouldering the multiverse's safety, his heart heavy with complexity.
Was it really…
Just to protect them?
The Omega Effect required a clear desire from its user.
Lock didn't need to think hard to know that across the vast multiverse, there were countless Lock farms, countless Jonathans and Marthas.
But this Clark, everything he'd done, this oppressive 'Heaven' he'd built…
It was like a blazing torch in endless darkness, drawing every moth.
Drawing the attention and hatred of every Darkseid avatar, follower, and greedy soul chasing Omega power fragments.
What came next was obvious, even to a child.
Countless Darkseids, with endless demon-like armies, would swarm this universe for that missing Omega fragment, to perfect themselves, to become singular.
They'd surge toward Clark Kent.
This man had "selfishly" made himself—and his world—a massive target, absorbing all the fire.
Even the rebels—he was indulging them.
Indulging Lex to research Doomsday.
Yes, he was so "selfish" he'd even planned to weaponize Doomsday for the war!
Madness was the only word for Clark.
But…
Lock had no right.
Everyone else could oppose him, resist him, curse him.
But not the Kents.
"Clark…"
Lock's voice was hoarse as he placed a heavy hand on the man's shoulder, feeling the star-shaking, yet profoundly lonely power beneath.
"Besides me…"
"No other universe's Lock…"
"No other Jonathan or Martha… will know about this."
His gaze locked onto Clark's eyes.
"No universe will thank you, Clark."
"It's fine, Uncle."
Clark shrugged.
"Since Mom and Dad passed, my only goal was to protect us—our little family."
"But Lois is gone, Dio's gone, and even you're gone."
"This world, this universe—it's meaningless to me."
"Just a bigger Fortress of Solitude."
"Sorry, I'm just that selfish a 'god.' So now, I'll protect everyone, haha."
"Bruce and the others want to kill me, to release or destroy the Omega power in me—because of this 'selfishness,' right?"
His tone was calm, even understanding.
"They're scared. Darkseid's invasion tore this universe apart, broke them. That despair, that powerlessness—they don't want to feel it again."
"Yeah…"
"So now, it's my turn to say what they once threw at me."
Superman, how can you be so selfish?!
You're sacrificing your family, but you're protecting Earth!
Memories surfaced, and Clark couldn't help but say, "They're unwilling to sacrifice our universe for the survival and peace of countless others!"
"They're unwilling to sacrifice the self."
"They don't deserve to be called heroes of justice!"
"They're the selfish ones."
"Right, Uncle?"
These shocking words spilled from Clark with such calm, almost eerie righteousness.
Even Lock was momentarily stunned.
But then, Clark seemed to recall something absurdly funny.
He let out a low chuckle, shattering the suffocating tension.
"It's hilarious, really."
"Uncle, did you see Bruce's face just now?"
A childlike mischief crossed the emperor's face. "He actually thinks…"
"Because I absorbed the Omega power, my mind's been corrupted by Darkseid's will, that I'm his puppet, that everything I've done is part of Darkseid's scheme. Hahaha!"
"…"
Lock coughed awkwardly, looking away.
He patted Godspeed, still chewing nearby.
How could he doubt Clark? No way.
Also, Clark's jab at Bruce reeked of personal grudges.
"Alright…"
Clark's smile faded as he turned, his back to Lock, the sunset stretching his tall shadow.
His eyes remained gentle, but now held an unyielding finality.
"Uncle, go back."
His voice was soft, tinged with reluctance but mostly release.
"Back to your universe, to Mom, Dad, and Dio."
"For me, seeing you again by some twist of fate, sharing a meal, talking like any ordinary day…"
"That's enough."
"Thank you."
His gaze was deep, as if memorizing Lock's face.
"From whichever universe you came from… giving me all this…"
"Uncle Lock."
With that, he gave Lock no chance to protest or say goodbye.
In a flash, yet with utmost care, he tucked the still-munching Godspeed into Lock's arms.
Before Lock could react, Clark's arm moved like a phantom, his elbow delivering a swift, impossibly gentle nudge to Lock's chest.
That warm, familiar smile bloomed again.
He waved hard, one last time.
Boom!
As the Speed Force particles shattered, Lock felt an immense yet precise, gentle force envelop him.
The world around him—farm, sunset, Clark's smiling face—
Blurred, warped, and dissolved into a sea of pure golden light.
His consciousness seemed to detach, weightless.
The next moment, the golden light collapsed inward, taking Lock and Godspeed with it, vanishing as if they'd never been in this universe.
Before the empty porch, Clark Kent stood alone.
His smile faded, the warmth and relief lingering only briefly.
He stood quietly, gazing at the horizon.
The sun had fully set.
The last rays painted the sky, framing his solitary figure in a cold, blurred outline.
All light sank below the horizon.
A long night was coming.
It was time.
Clark took a deep breath, the last trace of warmth vanishing from his eyes.
Hope waned; darkness triumphed.
"Barry."
He spoke softly.
In a flash of gold, the man who was supposed to be dead, per Joruno, appeared.
"What's up, Your Majesty?" Barry Allen said with a wry grin. "Where do you need me to run now? Just finished my undercover 'death' stint—I'm beat. Wait…"
"You're not gonna make me recharge your uncle's watch, are you? Trying to drain me dry again?"
"…"
"Tell Diana and the others. The war's starting."
Clark's face hardened with icy resolve.
Ignoring Barry's banter, he issued an unyielding command. "I feel them. They're here."
"We…"
"Can't let those bastards unify and become singular."
"For the multiverse."
---
[Author's PS: The 'Control' concept isn't something I made up, folks.]
[In DC lore, Darkseid embodies 'Control,' while Clark is the embodiment of 'Hope.']
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