The stadium was alive with noise. Flags waved, horns blared, and the crowd's energy surged through the stands like electricity. Smallville's home team was ready, but one face was missing.
"Where's Clark?" Jonathan's eyes swept the players warming up on the field. His son was nowhere in sight.
"Not just Clark," Martha murmured, frowning. "I don't see Coach Walt either."
Jonathan's instincts stirred uneasily. "Stay here," he told her firmly, standing from his seat. "I'll find him."
He left the stands and hurried toward the locker rooms.
"Clark!" he called out, his voice echoing in the empty hallway.
"Dad… cough, cough… I'm here." Clark's voice was faint, pained.
Jonathan rushed to the locker room door and peered through the small window. Inside, he saw his son collapsed on the floor, surrounded by a haze of white steam.
"Clark, hang on!" Jonathan threw his shoulder against the door, slamming it again and again until the lock finally snapped. The door swung inward with a crash, and he rushed to Clark's side.
"Clark, can you hear me?"
Clark's voice was weak, broken. "Ch… Chloe… editor's office." He used what little strength he had to whisper into his father's ear.
"We're getting you out of here first," Jonathan insisted, hauling him up.
But before they could escape, a shadow loomed.
Coach Walt stepped out of the steam with a fire extinguisher in his hands, swinging it viciously at Jonathan's back.
Bang!
The blow never landed. A hand caught the extinguisher mid-swing.
Adrian stood between them, calm and unmoving, his black eyes cold.
The coach froze, stunned. He hadn't even seen Adrian move. One moment the boy hadn't been there, the next he was inches from his face.
"What—how…?" The coach's confusion turned to dread.
Adrian wrenched the extinguisher from his grip and, without hesitation, slammed it across Walt's skull. The impact was deafening. The coach's body flew backward, crashing into the lockers with bone-rattling force. Metal bent, doors buckled, equipment spilled to the ground.
Coach Walt slumped into unconsciousness, blood trailing down his face.
"Adrian!" Jonathan exclaimed, half in shock, half in relief.
"Why are you here?"
Adrian allowed himself a faint smile. "You were right, Dad. Sometimes we have to make changes. So, I changed my mind and came to the game."
It wasn't the truth. He'd seen everything unfold with his Super Vision and arrived in a blur of speed. But there was no need for them to know that.
Jonathan clapped his shoulder, gratitude in his eyes. "Good. Take care of Clark. I'll check the newspaper office—he said Chloe's in trouble."
He rushed off toward the school building, smoke already rising into the evening sky.
Adrian turned his gaze back to Clark, who was still trembling from the kryptonite-laced steam. Sweat poured down his face as he struggled to breathe.
Adrian's expression darkened. He stepped forward and, without warning, drove his fist into Clark's cheek.
The punch sent Clark stumbling into the wall. It wasn't full strength, but it was enough to rattle him.
Clark blinked through the dizziness, stunned. "Adrian—"
"You put Dad at risk," Adrian said coldly. "You endangered Chloe. And you let yourself get caught in a trap that should never have worked on you. You're reckless, Clark. You want to protect people, but you can't even protect yourself."
Clark lowered his gaze, guilt twisting his face. "I'm sorry. I messed up."
"I don't need your apology," Adrian snapped, his tone sharp as a blade. "I warned you to see beyond appearances. To think deeper. But you wasted your gift. You let your friends and family bleed for your mistakes."
Clark clenched his fists but said nothing.
Adrian leaned closer, his voice low, venomous. "You're supposed to be better. Stronger. Smarter. Instead, you're still a boy playing hero." His eyes flicked toward the school. "Dad's saving people. Make sure he comes back alive."
With that, Adrian turned and strode down the corridor, his figure vanishing into the smoke-filled air.
Clark straightened, his breath steadier now. He clenched his jaw, determination flashing in his eyes, and bolted toward the fire.
Behind them, Coach Walt stirred. Groaning, he staggered to his feet. His forehead was split, blood dripping into his eyes. Even with his kryptonite-enhanced strength, Adrian's blow had nearly killed him.
"Damn it," Walt hissed, rage burning through the pain.
"Coach Walt."
The voice froze him. Slow, deliberate, it came from behind. He turned.
Adrian was there again, standing in the haze, his face expressionless.
"Surprised?" Adrian's eyes flickered, his irises glowing faintly with orange-red light. He stepped closer. "I tolerated you before because you hadn't touched what mattered to me. But now—you tried to harm my family." His voice dropped to a lethal whisper. "That was your last mistake."
Flames burst from Walt's body, coiling into fiery serpents that lashed toward Adrian. The room became an inferno, the air rippling with heat.
Adrian didn't flinch. He walked forward through the storm, his cape brushing the smoke, his skin untouched.
"You…" Walt gasped, his control faltering.
Twin beams of Heat Vision ignited from Adrian's eyes, burning straight through the coach's skull. The searing light carved through flesh and bone with surgical precision.
Walt collapsed, his body consumed by his own fire. The flames roared higher, swallowing him whole.
Adrian watched until nothing remained but ash, then turned away, his expression as cold as the fire had been hot.
____
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