Batman slammed on the brakes, the Batcycle screeching as he watched a green figure slam into a black brick wall, shattering it into fragments.
The impact echoed through the narrow street.
Bricks crumbled and fell as the green figure dropped heavily to the ground.
Batman raised his arm and activated the communicator embedded in his gauntlet, his voice low and controlled.
"Alfred, I placed a tracker on one of the suspects. Track his position."
"Understood, Master Bruce," Alfred replied calmly. "Sunset Park is two streets away. If you cut through the alley on your left, you can intercept him. Would you like a route displayed?"
"No."
Batman's gaze never left the figure pulling himself upright amid the rubble.
"I've encountered something more dangerous and far more alert."
He stepped forward, his movements deliberate.
Hal Jordan staggered to his feet, his head ringing. Being punched through a wall was bad enough. Being sent flying by Wonder Woman was worse. His pride took the hardest hit.
Just as he was about to regroup and say something reckless, he noticed the dark figure standing in front of him.
The so-called vampire he had mocked earlier now blocked his path.
Batman studied him from beneath the cowl, sharp eyes assessing every movement.
"Oh great," Hal muttered, kicking aside broken bricks. "When everything goes wrong at once, that means today I'm Edward Murphy."
Far away, in the Arctic.
Adrian kicked aside a thick sheet of hardened ice, the frozen surface shattering effortlessly beneath his boot.
The land stretched endlessly in darkness, streaked with brilliant color. The temperature plunged far below minus fifty degrees Celsius, and violent winds carried razor-sharp ice particles through the air.
Adrian felt none of it.
Clark's physiology granted immunity to extremes, but Adrian's was no different. Space, crushing depths, searing heat, lethal cold, none of it mattered.
He lifted his gaze.
Above him, green and pale blue auroras rippled across the sky, twisting like living light.
Beautiful.
Meaningless.
Adrian activated his enhanced vision, scanning the horizon until the massive outline of an iceberg came into focus.
He flew toward it, the alien spacecraft secured under one arm.
Landing on the ice, he unleashed controlled Heat Vision. The beam carved cleanly through the iceberg, melting and slicing with surgical precision.
The hole deepened steadily.
Only after reaching more than ten meters did he stop.
Adrian placed the spacecraft inside and stepped back.
His Heat Vision flared again, cutting straight through the iceberg's center.
The ice collapsed with a thunderous roar, breaking apart and sinking into the frozen sea.
Floating in mid-air, Adrian watched without emotion.
He then casually tossed a prepared fragment of green Kryptonite onto the wreckage, allowing it to sink and merge with the ice.
Green Kryptonite interfered with Kryptonian systems. Combined with the Arctic cold, it ensured the ship would never awaken again.
That was the point.
If that thing wanted destiny, it could rot with it.
Adrian turned to leave, rising into the air.
Then he stopped.
Through swirling snow, his X-ray vision detected another object embedded beneath shallow ice.
A second spacecraft.
He descended, sliced open the ice, and revealed a severely damaged escape pod. Its dark surface was etched with intricate Kryptonian patterns, warped and fractured by impact.
There was no energy signature.
Adrian opened the pod.
Inside lay a black strip marked with an "S" symbol. Beneath it were engraved words.
Kara Zor-El.
Adrian recognized it immediately.
Supergirl's pod.
Clark's had arrived safely. Hers had been struck off course.
By every known account, Kara was supposed to arrive years later.
Adrian closed his fingers around the key, his expression unreadable.
The Kara he had restrained earlier was from the future.
Which meant this timeline's Kara was already here.
He pocketed the key and let out a quiet chuckle.
Things were becoming interesting.
Back in Smallville.
"Clark, are you alright?"
Martha Kent set down the fruit salad and studied her son's face.
"I'm fine," Clark replied with a smile that came a little too easily. "Just tired. Between finishing my English thesis and helping Chloe at the Torch, it's been a lot."
Several days had passed since Adrian sent the ship north.
It had not returned.
But Clark's mind felt heavier with each passing night.
"You push yourself too hard," Martha said gently. "You need to rest sometimes."
She smiled. "Lex's wedding might help. He invited you and Adrian to be groomsmen. You could relax, maybe invite the girl you like."
"Mom," Clark said helplessly. "I'm still trying to memorize the speech."
Martha laughed. "At our wedding, Jonathan's best man was his cousin. Everyone thought he was an illegal immigrant."
She paused, smiling at the memory.
"Lex invited your father and me to stand in for his parents."
Clark blinked. "His father's still alive."
"Yes," Martha said softly. "But he won't be there."
Jonathan Kent refused at first. Then hesitated.
"No matter how he feels about the Luthors," Martha continued, "he couldn't stand the idea of a son being alone on his wedding day."
Clark smiled. "That's Dad."
He helped carry dinner to the table.
As he turned, a newspaper headline caught his eye.
"LuthorCorp Anwort Mine Collapse, No Casualties."
Collapse.
The idea took root instantly.
The cave.
The dreams.
The markings.
Destroy it, and it ends.
That night at dinner, Adrian noticed Clark's distraction.
Jonathan spoke first.
"Adrian," he said carefully, "you said you moved the ship to the North Pole."
"Yes," Adrian replied evenly. "That's where it belongs."
He continued eating before adding, "It was affecting Clark. For safety, I removed it. If it comes back, I'll destroy it."
Jonathan frowned. "You should have talked to us."
Adrian met his gaze. "You're right."
Clark felt guilt twist in his chest.
"Dad, it was my fault," he began.
Adrian shot him a look.
Clark stopped.
"We're family," Jonathan said. "We handle things together."
"I will," Clark said quietly.
Adrian nodded.
The next morning at Smallville High.
Pete leaned over in chemistry class. "You hear about Dana?"
Clark stiffened. "What about her?"
"Her parents vanished. She's in the hospital with amnesia."
Clark's heart pounded.
"They say she's faking it," Pete continued. "Police think she knows something about her parents and the coaches who died."
As Pete poured a reagent, the test tube exploded.
Clark caught it instantly, absorbing the blast.
"Pete," the teacher snapped. "Pay attention."
Later, Clark stared at the shattered glass in his hand.
"If someone wanted to destroy a cave," he asked quietly, "what would it take?"
Pete stared at him. "Clark, don't even think about it."