Chapter 41: The Aftermath
Three days passed in a blur of recovery and adjustment.
Hannah barely spoke at first. She took Clark's old room—Martha had insisted—and spent most of her time staring out the window at fields she'd never seen before. Sometimes I sat with her, not talking, just being present. After months in a cell, she needed to know that humans could occupy the same space without wanting something from her.
"People don't come back," she said on the second day. Her voice was rusty from disuse. "In the facility. When they took someone away, they never came back."
"I came back."
"I know." She looked at me with those hollow eyes. "I don't understand why."
"Because nobody should be left behind."
She didn't respond, but something in her expression shifted. Not hope—she was too damaged for hope. But maybe the beginning of belief.
[SOCIAL BOND: HANNAH. TRUST LEVEL: ESTABLISHING. NOTE: SUBJECT DISPLAYS PTSD INDICATORS.]
On the third day, I went to the barn to train.
My body had healed from the worst of the rescue—enhanced recovery working overtime—but I felt off somehow. Unbalanced. Like something was building inside me, pressure seeking release.
I started with basic exercises. Strength training. Speed drills. The familiar routines that had shaped my abilities over the past six months.
Then I noticed my skin was tingling.
Not pain—something else. Energy, maybe. A warmth that spread from my core to my extremities, making my nerves sing with sensation I couldn't identify.
[ALERT: SECONDARY POWER MANIFESTATION DETECTED. KRYPTONITE RADIATION LEVELS RISING. RECOMMEND: DISTANCE FROM KRYPTONIAN INDIVIDUALS IMMEDIATELY.]
I froze mid-rep.
Kryptonite radiation?
The barn door opened. Kara stepped inside, smile on her face.
"Martha sent me to—" She stopped. Her expression changed from warm to confused to pained in the space of a heartbeat. "Cole? Something's wrong. I feel—"
She staggered.
Her hand went to her chest, and her legs wobbled. She was pale suddenly, sweating, weak in a way I'd never seen her.
"Kara?"
I moved toward her instinctively, and she cried out. Actually cried out, like my approach had driven a spike through her skull.
"Stay back!" Her voice was desperate. "Something's—you're hurting me—"
I looked down at my hands.
They were glowing. Faint green light, barely visible in the barn's shadows, pulsing in time with my heartbeat.
No. No no no—
I ran.
Not toward her—away. Out the back door of the barn, across the field, putting as much distance between us as I could manage. Behind me, I heard her calling my name, but I didn't stop.
Couldn't stop.
[KRYPTONITE AURA: ACTIVE. EMISSION RADIUS: 15 METERS. INTENSITY: RISING. WARNING: CONTROL REQUIRED.]
I ran until I couldn't hear her anymore. Until the farmhouse was a distant shape on the horizon. Until the only thing around me was corn and sky and the terrible glow of my own hands.
Then I collapsed.
My knees hit the dirt, and I stared at my palms, watching the green light pulse and flicker. The power I'd been given—the power that had made me stronger, faster, more capable than any normal human—had just become a weapon against the people I loved most.
I'd always known Kryptonite Aura was coming. The System had mentioned it months ago, when I'd first started to understand what I was becoming. But I'd pushed the thought aside, focused on immediate threats, told myself I'd deal with it when it arrived.
Now it was here. And I had no idea how to control it.
My phone buzzed. A text from Kara.
Are you okay? What happened?
I typed back with shaking fingers: I'm so sorry. I don't know what's happening. Stay away until I figure this out.
Her response came seconds later: We figure it out together. Just... from a distance for now.
Even through text, her love was clear. Her determination to stay connected despite the barrier I'd become.
It made everything worse.
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