The laser gun's cold touch felt completely real.
The laser pulse weapon from the nightmare world was lying quietly in Ian's arms. Under the glow of the voice-activated lamp on his nightstand, the words "Property of S.H.I.E.L.D." on the gun gave off a faint sheen.
"It's not just my scalp tingling now. Even my goosebumps are going numb..."
Ian was genuinely stunned. He had tried countless times before, but he had never managed to bring anything back from that nightmare world.
So what was different this time?
Was the nightmare beginning to leak into the real world?
Or was it related to the shift in his identity within the DC Universe, from [Ordinary NPC] to [Independent NPC]?
"No, I think that AI Iron Man is way more suspicious."
Ian scratched his slightly messy hair and thought of Gwen, who had been smashed into paste and then appeared again completely unharmed, without even turning into some ghostly old-lady version of herself.
Most likely,
it was not just Gwen.
That Betty, and all the other people in the base...
they probably had the same kind of "ability."
Ian once again thought back to what Digital Tony had said. He suspected that everyone in that world might just be clones with implanted memories. And as for why the newly reappeared Gwen still remembered Ian, maybe those memory files were being uploaded in real time?
This was absolutely not what Ian had expected. It was completely different from the "echoes of the past" he had imagined.
Unless that world had already become a world made entirely of data.
"Sigh. I used my superior intellect too many times today. It makes sense that I can't think it through right now."
Ian could not figure it out no matter how much he thought, so he came up with a perfectly reasonable explanation for why he could not figure it out.
Whatever the truth was, once he entered that world again tomorrow night, he was sure he would find the answer.
"For now, back to sleep!"
Ian glanced at the darkness outside the window, shoved all his confusion aside, and went back to sleep with the laser gun in his arms.
Because he had gotten plenty of rest, he dreamed that he had grown into a towering giant over six hundred feet tall.
The next morning,
"Earthlings deserve their own Plasma Spark Tower too!"
Well, maybe teenage boys were just prone to bizarre dreams. That was probably why Ian slowly woke up still carrying the disappointment of not having evolved all humanity the way the Lizard wanted to.
Looking at the laser gun on the bed,
Ian grew thoughtful.
He knew there was no way he could keep something like this hidden from his parents if he left it at home. But he also could not bring it to school without a bag the right size.
So he put his freshly awakened superior intellect to work.
"The most dangerous place is the safest place!"
Ian sneaked into his parents' bedroom and, under the gaze of his "sleeping" father who had quietly opened his eyes, shoved the laser gun under their bed.
"..."
Clark silently watched as Ian crawled back up from the floor and, the moment he lifted his head, made direct eye contact with him, yet still acted like he had seen absolutely nothing.
Click.
The boy fumbled around on the nightstand for a second, then abruptly slapped something onto Clark's head. After that, he gently brushed a hand down over Clark's eyelids.
And so,
in a room filled with nothing but silence, still absolutely maddeningly silent,
Clark kept his eyes shut and "watched" his youngest son tiptoe out of the room.
He did not roll over to look under the bed.
He did not even open his eyes.
He simply raised a hand, rubbed at his blood-pressure-heavy temple, and took off the noise-canceling headphones Ian had placed on his head in an utterly pointless attempt at concealment.
Glug glug glug.
After tidying himself up a little, Ian headed off to school.
A little while later,
tap tap tap.
Someone came downstairs.
The smell of frying bacon drifted through the kitchen. Lois was frying eggs, and when she heard the footsteps, she greeted who she assumed was her eldest son without even turning around.
"Morning, Jonathan."
She kept cooking.
"Morning, Mom."
Jonathan rubbed his sleepy eyes and walked over to the kitchen cabinet, about to top up his nutrition for the day.
But the moment he opened his personal cupboard, he froze.
"Where's my protein powder?"
He thought maybe he was hallucinating from not being fully awake.
So he rubbed his eyes again.
"Creatine, arginine, fish oil... all gone?!"
That was when he discovered even more horrifying truths, and the shock in his voice came with an actual tremble.
For a serious athlete, there was no greater bolt from the blue first thing in the morning.
"Sorry, honey." Lois sounded helpless. She did not turn around, but in her mind she could still see the astonishing scene from earlier, Ian enthusiastically inhaling all of Jonathan's supplements.
"I already gave Ian money and told him to buy you replacements tonight..."
As the mother who believed she understood her children best, Lois strongly suspected Ian thought this was how he could become as strong as Clark. It was a perfectly natural line of thought.
Even if she were given ten chances, she never would have guessed that Ian had actually done it to farm experience.
No medicine left?
Then overdosing on supplements was worth a try too.
Unfortunately,
because his liver and kidneys were no longer normal by any standard, Ian had not gotten the effect he wanted.
Jonathan, on the other hand, was suffering for it. Without his supplements, he felt like his strength had instantly dropped by half.
"Uh... okay. I'll just borrow some protein powder from a classmate at school."
Jonathan was puzzled about what any of this had to do with Ian, but as the oldest brother, he was generally emotionally stable.
Thunk thunk thunk.
More footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Clark and Jordan came down one after the other.
"Dad, did you get new glasses? They look pretty cool."
Jonathan noticed the brand-new black-framed glasses on Clark's face and immediately gave him a thumbs-up, offering some emotional support.
Only,
Clark, who had recently developed a habit of becoming mute in the mornings, said nothing.
He stirred his cereal with a spoon and only gave a vague little "Mm" in response to Jonathan's compliment.
The atmosphere became awkward.
Jonathan had no idea why his parents' moods felt so heavy.
"I'm going to grab the paper."
Jordan slipped outside, then returned a moment later holding a package. Looking confused, he walked over to Clark.
"Here, your delivery. Why is it from Gotham?"
Because of what had happened yesterday,
there was still a little tension between father and son.
"I have an old friend who lives there."
Clark did not want to take it.
But Jordan was far too curious.
"What is it?"
He tore open the package, which had no address label on it. There was nothing mysterious or fun inside, just several thick books mailed by one of Clark's "old friends."
How to Teach Your Child That Earth Is Not for Blowing Up
From Brat to Supervillain: A Prevention Manual
100 Answers for When Your Child Asks, "Why Can't We Experiment on Humans?"
The Parenting Fork in the Road from "I Want to Be a Superhero" to "I Want to Rule the World"
...
With every title Jordan read out loud,
Clark found the cereal in his bowl harder to chew.
"No, seriously, what kind of friend sends you this kind of insane stuff? Wait... these all look handwritten? These aren't even published books?"
Jordan was completely baffled and deeply shaken.
Chomp. Chomp.
Clark just kept chewing his cereal.
Silent.
Utterly silent.
Looking at his wife quietly opening a bottle in the kitchen,
he honestly felt like having a few drinks himself.
If only he were capable of getting drunk.
(End of Chapter)
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