On another street in the small town, Jonathan drove his pickup truck through the light traffic. Clark sat in the passenger seat, his chin resting against the window as he watched streets alive with Christmas decorations and cheer.
They were on their way to buy a Christmas tree. The old tree from last year had broken, and there were no suitable firs on the Kent Farm. They decided to get a European silver fir from the store in town.
"Sorry, Dad," Clark said after watching the street scene in thoughtful silence. "I must have worried you and Mom a lot before."
"We're family," Jonathan replied gently as he steered the slightly crowded street, "You don't need to apologize, Clark. Your mother and I, and Adrian, we will always support you."
Jonathan glanced at his eldest son. "I'm glad things are finally back on track. Maybe setbacks help you understand your life. I can't influence your path, and Jor‑El, your biological father from Krypton, can't control your destiny either."
"I know, Dad," Clark said softly, a warm current of comfort flowing through his chest as he looked out at the town.
When they arrived at the store, Clark immediately spotted a familiar face.
Chloe stood in front of a shelf, picking out items. Clark walked up to her and greeted her.
"Hey, Chloe."
Chloe turned, her short blonde hair framing her face. "Strange seeing you here, Clark. Decided not to be with the Thug Gang anymore?"
Clark shook his head. "No. Actually, I came to apologize."
"Oh, that's something," Chloe said, continuing to choose items. Her tone was casual, but her attitude toward Clark was noticeably colder than before. "When I'm with you, I never know if you're going to accuse me or apologize."
"You helped more than you know, Chloe," Clark said. "You knew where I was in Metropolis and you didn't tell anyone."
"Because we're friends, right?" She stopped choosing items and looked Clark in the eyes. "Friends keep secrets and care about each other. But that doesn't mean we don't get hurt, or that we pretend nothing ever happened."
Clark felt his heart tighten. "I know I hurt the people around me. But I won't run this time. I'll take responsibility."
"I hope so," she said. She began heading to the checkout, then paused and turned back. "You should go see Lana. After all, she's the woman you care for most, isn't she?"
Clark stood frozen for a moment after she left.
A few minutes later, Clark and Jonathan loaded the silver fir into the trunk. They drove out of the busy town center and onto a quiet country road. Clark sat dazed in thought, replaying Chloe's words, when suddenly—
Bang!
The passenger window shattered outward.
A metal arrowhead tore through the glass, its sharp point slicing through air before hurtling toward Clark.
Clark snapped out of his reverie and instinctively snatched the arrow mid‑flight. The lethal, high‑velocity projectile thudded into his hand, its tail vibrating with force.
Jonathan slammed on the brakes, the truck skidding to a halt with a screech.
After a tense moment, Jonathan exhaled in relief as he saw Clark holding the arrow.
"Clark, are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Dad."
"But an arrow? Who would attack us like this?"
Clark studied the arrow, bewildered. "I don't know. But this tip is a Teflon‑coated titanium alloy blade — enough to slice through flesh and bone. The shaft is a high‑performance polymer, stronger than carbon fiber."
Back at Kent Farm, Adrian examined the same arrow, his sharp eyes cold and calculating.
"Who would ambush Clark and me? I don't remember wronging anyone."
Jonathan looked from the arrow to Adrian with confusion. "And why use such an old‑fashioned weapon? A gun would be more efficient."
"Maybe this was meant as a warning," Adrian said calmly as he set the arrow on the table.
Clark, still uneasy, spoke up. "Back in Metropolis, I got involved with a gang once. The Thug Gang. They tried to make me kill someone for them. I took their money, but I didn't commit the murder. I never revealed who I was. I don't know how they found me."
"No matter who it is, they've made us a target," Jonathan said, gathering his composure. "You and Adrian need to be careful."
Adrian's expression didn't change, but his eyes glinted with determination. "They might come again."
Jonathan considered their options. "For safety, Martha should stay with your grandmother for a while. We might miss Christmas here, but she'll be safe."
Adrian shook his head. "Your wife is pregnant. She'll feel better with you there, not alone."
Jonathan hesitated, then nodded. "Then you and Clark will spend your first Christmas without us."
Night fell. Adrian put away the arrow and prepared to leave for Star City, where he planned to trace the threat back to its source. He believed in eliminating danger before it could grow.
Just then, a knock sounded on the door. Adrian opened it to find Clark standing there.
"It's late, Clark," Adrian said, voice flat and unimpressed. "You not here for a heart‑to‑heart?"
"No, something more important."
Clark stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "You're planning to go after the Thug Gang, aren't you?"
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think that?"
"Because facing a threat like this, you'd act," Clark said with quiet resolve, "This is my mess. I want to fix it too."
"Fix it how?" Adrian asked, amused.
Clark met his gaze without flinching. "Gather evidence and hand it to the authorities. Let justice take its course."
Adrian shook his head. "That's naive. Sometimes depending on the police in a city like Metropolis is like hoping aliens show up tomorrow."
Adrian picked up the black shaft of the arrow. "I tracked this material back to a company called Saditris in Star City. They specialize in high‑end weapon composites. Pair that with the fact you were hired by this gang to kill someone in Star City, and it points to the gang being just a corporate front."
Clark looked thoughtful.
"I even thought of a certain archer from Star City," Adrian said with a cold smirk.
"An archer? Like a vigilante?" Clark asked.
"Something like that," Adrian replied.
____
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