Clark stared at his finger, now perfectly healed, then at little Rachel in his arms. His eyes were wide with disbelief, heart still racing.
"Little Rachel… she did this?" Clark said to Adrian, who was walking toward him.
"You wouldn't believe it either," Clark added, voice filled with amazement, "My wound is completely gone, and it looks like Rachel healed me."
"I know," Adrian said calmly, watching the baby kick her tiny fair legs. "She was born extraordinary."
He reached out and gently stroked the small red dot at the center of Rachel's forehead.
Adrian already knew about her potential. Beyond her vast magical potential, Rachel possessed a powerful healing ability. But her kind of healing was not like a shining light that washed away pain. Instead, it worked through pain transfer — absorbing another's pain into herself.
If Rachel had absorbed Clark's pain, then she would suffer for it.
Adrian frowned as he looked down at the baby.
And within moments, little Rachel's mouth opened wide as she began to cry loudly, her tiny face scrunching with discomfort.
At the sound, Martha rushed in, gently taking Rachel from Clark's bewildered arms and soothing her with soft murmurs.
"It seems every miracle demands a price," Adrian said as he walked out of the room. "Seems best not to let her heal you again, Clark."
Clark looked down at his finger again, then at Rachel, now resting in her mother's arms. Confusion flickered in his eyes.
She's so young… does she already have to understand what a price means?
—
The next morning on the Kent Farm, Clark had spent the better part of the day taking care of Rachel in his room when a familiar face arrived.
"Pete!"
Clark opened the door and saw his old friend, his expression bursting with joy. Clark leapt forward and embraced him tightly, eyes glistening just slightly.
After the Witch incident, Pete had been injured and hospitalized, and soon afterward his family moved away. Clark had missed seeing him before he left, and that regret had stayed with him.
"I'm sorry I didn't visit you before you left," Clark said earnestly.
Pete grinned and patted Clark's shoulder in reassurance. "No, it's fine. We still talk on the phone. Distance doesn't erase friendship."
"Of course not," Clark agreed warmly.
After bumping fists, Clark asked, "So you graduated high school, right?"
"Yeah," Pete said proudly, "and with great grades. I might even earn a scholarship at Kansas Central University. I stayed busy — extracurriculars, community stuff with you and Chloe. And football, dude, I was practically everywhere!"
Pete laughed, pushing his chest out with pride. "Maybe my activity record will even outshine yours."
Clark smiled at Pete's enthusiasm, but instead of telling him about his full scholarship to Kansas Central, he simply walked inside and pulled out a basketball.
"Football isn't really a thing right now — too many equipment limitations — so how about a friendly basketball match?"
Pete's eyes lit up. "Sure. To prove who really deserved the football team the most."
Clark tossed the ball to Pete, and they headed toward the makeshift hoop behind the barn. Clark moved first, dribbling quickly toward Pete.
Pete anticipated him, stepping forward to block the path.
Clark couldn't slow down in time, his momentum carrying him straight into Pete's chest. His feet slipped, he lost balance, and suddenly he was on the ground, laughing.
Pete stared, stunned. Clark fell just from a bump?
"Clark, you look really happy," Pete said as he helped him up.
Clark took Pete's hand and rose, face bright with a smile Pete hadn't seen before.
"Of course," Clark said. "I'm just enjoying the freedom of playing a simple game."
He handed the ball back to Pete and the match continued.
Pete easily dribbled past Clark and made a shot. Turning back, he called out, "Clark, your speed feels slower. I'm warning you — don't hold back next time."
Pete thought Clark was going easy on him.
"No, I'm not holding back," Clark said with a shrug. "This is just my current strength."
He shot again, but the ball hit the rim and bounced away. Clark felt content — no fear of hurting anyone, no need to hide anything, no need to constantly adjust his strength or worry about revealing who he was.
Although losing his powers had been strange at first, Clark was now genuinely enjoying the simplicity of ordinary life.
"Clark," Pete said seriously as he gathered the rebounding ball, "you're not ordinary. When we first met, I knew something was different about you and Adrian. Do you remember that autumn sports day? You sprinted like the wind and then slowed like a snail."
Clark paused, listening.
"Look," Pete continued, "hiding your abilities because you don't want to hurt people doesn't make them a curse. You and I both know about painful choices. My parents' divorce was the hardest choice I ever faced. But that kind of pain doesn't make someone less, it makes them stronger. Your abilities are not a burden, Clark. They're something to be proud of."
Clark stood quietly, processing Pete's words.
"I've got to go," Pete said with a grin, tossing the basketball back to Clark. "Next time, we'll play again. And if you're still easy on me, I won't hold back."
As Pete walked away, his words echoed in Clark's mind.
"Divorce?" Clark murmured, surprised. He had never known about Pete's home life.
Looking down at his hands, he considered Pete's words.
"Abilities aren't a burden."
—
Lex Luthor: Frustration and Secrets
Deep within Luthor Manor, Lex stood in the hidden underground laboratory, staring angrily at the alien spacecraft before him.
"Don't tell me you spent all this time and still can't open it," Lex snapped at the scientists surrounding him.
It had been over half a month since the mysterious ship was brought into the facility. They couldn't analyze it, much less get it to open. The hull defied every known Earth metal, every attempt yielding nothing.
A researcher nervously stepped forward. "Mr. Luthor, we have tried every method available. The ship's composition does not match any known element on Earth. We may need just a little more time to understand its structure."
Lex didn't want time. He wanted answers.
He interrupted, voice sharp. "I don't want excuses. You've wasted enough time and delivered no results."
Just then his phone buzzed. After a brief call, Lex hung up.
Addressing the lab staff, he said coldly, "Your work here is done. Leave immediately. New non‑disclosure agreements will be prepared. Our professional relationship ends here. Be smart."
One by one, security escorted the researchers out of the lab.
Left alone, Lex placed a hand against the spacecraft's cold, dark hull.
"Whatever secrets you hold," he murmured, "I will uncover them. I lack time, not determination."
As he turned to leave, a few drops of thick black liquid seeped from cracks in the ship's surface. The substance pooled on the floor and began to move.
Slowly, the creeping black slime twisted and deformed, until finally… it formed something almost human.
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200 Powerstones = 3 Bonus Chapters
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