After hearing their sons explain the situation, Jonathan and Martha exchanged quiet glances.
According to the story, Clark had taken the attacker away from the school. Victor, worried about his brother, had followed afterward. While climbing over the school fence in a hurry, he had accidentally torn his clothes.
By the time Victor caught up, Clark had already subdued the man.
Jonathan remained silent for a moment, thinking carefully.
Then he looked at Clark seriously.
"You did a great job tonight, Clark. You protected your brother and everyone else."
Clark shifted awkwardly under the praise.
"Your mother and I have always told you to hide your abilities," Jonathan continued, "but that doesn't mean you should stand by if someone is about to be killed."
Jonathan placed a firm hand on Clark's shoulder.
"We believe you were given these abilities for a reason."
Clark's face tightened slightly.
"Given… by God?" he repeated uneasily.
He already felt a little embarrassed because Victor clearly hadn't needed saving at all.
Now the conversation was getting even stranger.
"What's wrong?" Jonathan asked when he noticed Clark's expression.
"It's nothing," Clark muttered awkwardly. "It's just that… the guy who almost killed everyone tonight also had powers."
Victor let out a quiet laugh.
"Looks like God is handing those out pretty freely."
Jonathan rubbed his cheek sheepishly.
"When I say God, I just mean… you know… heaven or fate or whatever. Not necessarily the religious version."
Neither he nor Martha were particularly devout believers.
The idea was more symbolic than literal.
"Anyway," Jonathan continued, returning to the topic, "you said you eventually subdued that man. What happened to him?"
Clark froze.
"He… he…"
He suddenly didn't know what to say.
Earlier on the road, he had asked Victor about the strange changes in his body. Victor had simply said they would talk about it after returning home.
But he had also made one request.
"Clark, you'll keep my secret, right?"
"Of course," Clark had promised.
Now the promise trapped him.
"He was knocked to the ground," Victor said casually, answering for him. "Clark accidentally turned him into a vegetable."
Victor smiled faintly.
"What?!"
Jonathan and Martha nearly jumped to their feet.
Both parents turned toward Clark in shock.
"Dad, Mom," Victor said calmly, raising a hand slightly. "You know Clark's strength has always been… excessive."
He continued speaking with a gentle smile.
"I don't think you can really blame him."
Clark suddenly felt an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu.
The sentence structure sounded strangely familiar.
A few days earlier, he had said something almost identical to Chloe when they were late for school.
"You know Victor never blames me…"
"Clark," Martha asked carefully, "is that really true?"
"Yes," Clark said stiffly.
Both parents looked at him with searching eyes.
They had already promised to keep the matter secret.
What else could Clark say now?
He clenched his teeth.
"Yes… that's what happened."
Jonathan stood up immediately.
His expression became serious.
"Clark, starting tomorrow you'll begin practicing control of your strength on the farm."
Jonathan placed both hands on Clark's shoulders firmly.
"What happens if next time you push a little harder and accidentally kill someone?"
Clark's face drooped miserably.
"Okay," he muttered.
There was no room for argument.
He simply nodded.
…
Jonathan and Martha were kind people, but they were not naive.
And Clark's mistake had come from carelessness.
The man he fought tonight had been a murderer preparing to slaughter dozens of students. In any court, that crime alone could easily earn a death sentence.
Because of that, Jonathan focused on the real issue.
Clark needed better control over his power.
Starting tomorrow, Jonathan planned to supervise his training personally.
"You're unbelievable, Victor."
Later that night, Clark climbed into the farm warehouse loft.
He had finally escaped his parents' lecture.
Victor was already there.
Clark crossed his arms irritably.
"You let me take the blame."
Victor stood near the small window with his arms folded, gazing out at the star-filled sky.
"It won't hurt you to practice controlling your strength," he replied calmly.
Then he glanced sideways at Clark.
"Did you see the look on your face tonight?"
"You looked like someone trying to help a hedgehog cross the road."
Clark frowned.
"What does that even mean?"
Victor shrugged slightly.
"Touch it and you get stabbed. Ignore it and you feel guilty. Either way, you're stuck."
Clark sighed.
"I've always controlled my strength perfectly when dealing with normal people."
That was true.
If he hadn't, countless accidents would have happened over the years.
"But what happens when the opponent isn't normal?" Victor asked.
Clark hesitated.
"How many people with superpowers could there possibly be?" he said dismissively.
Victor stared at him for a moment without speaking.
Clark had no idea.
The meteor shower that arrived with Clark had already created several super-powered individuals around town.
Seven.
Eight.
Maybe more.
And that was only the ones people knew about.
Victor simply shook his head slightly.
"Victor… can you tell me what's going on with your body now?" Clark asked quietly.
He glanced around to make sure no one else was nearby.
"Is this something you've always had… or did it happen recently?"
Earlier they had rushed back to the school and changed clothes quickly to avoid suspicion.
Now they were finally home.
Victor had no reason to avoid the question anymore.
"I was born like this," he said calmly.
Since Clark had already witnessed his abilities, there was no point hiding that part.
"Born like that?"
Clark's eyes widened.
"You're serious?"
Victor looked at him sideways.
"What's so strange about that?"
"You revealed your abilities accidentally for over ten years," he added. "I simply hid mine properly."
Clark scratched his head awkwardly.
"To be honest… it's a little hard to process."
When he was younger, Clark had believed his powers were a gift from heaven.
He had thought he was unique.
Special.
Stronger than anyone else.
Now he realized Victor had been hiding something similar all along.
And watching him.
Clark suddenly felt deeply embarrassed.
"Are you really sure?" Clark asked again. "I mean… how do you know you were born that way?"
"Memory," Victor answered simply.
Clark blinked.
Victor nodded faintly.
Few people knew that the infamous Mad Titan—who once terrified the universe—had originally dreamed of becoming a scientist as a child.
And he had actually achieved that dream.
The world he grew up in possessed advanced technology but no weapons. Violence and murder were almost nonexistent.
Everything functioned in perfect harmony.
Until the birth of one strange child.
A mutant among his own kind.
In order to understand his differences, that child began studying science.
His method of research involved dissection.
First animals.
Then classmates.
Eventually even the biological mother who had given birth to him.
Victor didn't explain the full story aloud.
But the memory existed.
That same mind—capable of terrifying scientific analysis—still belonged to him.
After leaving his homeworld, that individual had risen through the ranks of space pirates and eventually become a cosmic conqueror.
Clark stared at him silently.
Victor shrugged.
"You know those martial arts techniques we learned from watching television?"
Clark nodded slowly.
"Well," Victor said lightly, "sometimes watching once is enough."
Clark exhaled.
"You still have to keep my secret."
Clark narrowed his eyes.
"After you framed me for turning someone into a vegetable?"
Victor raised an eyebrow.
"Clark, imagine what Mom and Dad would think if they saw my real appearance."
Clark hesitated.
"They already worry enough about you," Victor continued calmly.
"One super-powered son is stressful enough."
"For now, let them keep one normal child."
Clark's resistance softened immediately.
Mentioning their parents always worked.
"Oh, right," Clark suddenly said.
"Where did you even learn that technique you used tonight?"
His tone turned serious.
"Don't tell me you saw it on TV too."
Turning someone into a vegetable with a precise strike to the back of the head required incredible control.
That kind of technique couldn't be learned casually.
It required practice.
Which meant…
There might have been other victims.
Victor turned toward the stairs.
"Gotham isn't very far from Metropolis," he said as he started walking down.
Clark frowned.
"I used to visit sometimes during long school breaks."
Clark stiffened.
"You know what kind of place that city is."
The crime rate alone made the entire place infamous.
People were shot in broad daylight.
Half the time criminals escaped punishment.
Victor continued calmly.
"It's easy to find villains there who deserve far worse than what they get."
Practicing techniques on them had been simple.
After a few attempts, he had mastered the method.
"I've always been tired of seeing heroes throw villains in prison," Victor added.
"Only for them to escape and repeat the same crimes again and again."
Victor paused on the staircase.
"So I figured I'd help clean things up a little."
Turning a few criminals into vegetables made the world quieter.
And it produced a steady stream of emotional energy.
"Gotham…?"
Clark repeated the name slowly.
The word carried a strange weight.
That city had a reputation that almost felt cursed.
When Clark realized Victor had actually spent time there, his expression changed drastically.
....
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