"Victor, Clark, today we're taking fruit to sell at the town's suburban market. You two will need to help load the truck later."
It was a rare day off from school, and Martha's voice floated up from downstairs early in the morning.
Victor stepped onto the wooden stairs, the boards creaking faintly beneath his feet as he descended. While walking down, his thoughts drifted briefly to the strange events from the previous day.
Greg's sudden transformation at school had been impossible to ignore.
His appearance had changed dramatically, but more importantly, his body showed clear signs of mutation. Victor had noticed the detail immediately when they were standing nearby.
His heartbeat is far slower than normal.
However, Victor wasn't particularly worried.
This town had been filled with mutated individuals ever since the meteor shower years ago. Strange abilities, abnormal physiques, and unpredictable changes appeared often enough that it was almost routine.
As long as Greg wasn't provoked, he likely wouldn't cause trouble.
Victor took a seat at the dining table.
Jonathan was already halfway through breakfast, soaking cereal in milk and eating quietly. Victor reached for a slice of warm bread instead. He wasn't fond of cereal, so he spread a layer of blueberry jam across the bread using a dining knife.
"Clark!" Martha called toward the upstairs hallway when she noticed her eldest son still hadn't come down.
A moment later—
Bang!
A heavy thudding sound echoed from upstairs, followed by the unmistakable crack of splintering wood.
Jonathan froze mid-bite and glanced toward the ceiling.
"Since when does Clark wake up angry enough to smash furniture?" he said jokingly.
The noise definitely sounded like something had been destroyed.
"Clark, are you alright?" Martha called again, ignoring her husband's teasing tone.
"I'm fine, Mom! I'll be down soon, just…"
Clark's voice drifted down from upstairs, sounding unusually flustered.
After a short delay, Clark finally walked down and took a seat at the table. His expression looked extremely awkward, almost like a kid who had just been caught doing something embarrassing.
"The bed in my room needs fixing," he muttered.
Jonathan raised an eyebrow.
"Your bed is broken? What happened?"
There was a trace of suspicion in his gaze. Puberty was a period of rapid physical development for humans. Clark's strength had already grown dramatically over the past few years.
Could it be that his strength had increased again, and he simply couldn't control it?
Clark hesitated before answering.
"I woke up and realized… my body was floating in the air."
He frowned slightly as he spoke, clearly uncomfortable.
"When I got scared and dropped down, one of the bed legs snapped."
For Clark, this discovery wasn't exciting at all.
Flying.
It sounded like an incredible ability, but for him it only reinforced something he constantly tried not to think about.
He wasn't human.
Every new power reminded him that he came from somewhere else, somewhere unknown. It raised a quiet but persistent fear in his heart.
If his abilities kept evolving, what might happen next? Would something eventually go out of control?
"Floating?" Jonathan repeated.
Even though the couple had already witnessed Clark's super strength, super durability, and incredible speed, the news still surprised them.
Flying had always been one of humanity's oldest dreams.
Martha noticed Clark's troubled expression immediately. She gently reached across the table and held his hand.
"Clark," she said softly, "no matter how many special abilities you develop, you're still our son."
Jonathan nodded firmly.
"If it's something you were born with, you'll learn to control it," he said in a steady voice meant to reassure him. "Don't be afraid. You're not the only creature in the world that can fly."
He gestured lightly toward the window.
"There are countless birds out there enjoying the sky every day."
Victor listened quietly while finishing his bread.
So the young Superman is starting to awaken his flight ability.
The development didn't surprise him at all.
"I thought it was something more serious," Victor said casually.
Clark looked over immediately.
"What do you mean?"
Victor swallowed the last bite of bread.
"It's nothing," he replied calmly. "When I woke up earlier, I heard some strange noises coming from your room. It sounded like someone talking in their sleep and repeating someone's name."
The moment those words left his mouth, Clark's face instantly turned bright red.
Victor's tone had been casual, but the effect on Clark was devastating.
Because just before waking up, Clark had been dreaming.
In the dream, he had been flying.
Flying all the way to Lana's house.
Floating above her bed and quietly watching her peaceful sleeping face.
He swore he hadn't done anything inappropriate before waking up, but the dream itself had definitely been… charming.
"You… you actually heard that?" Clark stammered.
It had to be because of yesterday.
On the walk home from school, he had spent an unusually long time talking with Lana, trying to comfort her after her breakup. That conversation must have lingered in his mind.
"Someone's name?" Martha asked, confused. "Clark, did you have a nightmare?"
She still remembered the incident when Clark had almost been beaten by Whitney before.
Clark nearly choked on his milk.
"It's nothing, Mom," he said quickly.
He wiped his mouth and changed the subject immediately.
"It's getting late. Let's finish breakfast and load the truck so we can get to the market."
"If we leave too late, we won't get a good spot."
After breakfast, the family walked outside toward the farmyard.
Clark and Victor began moving boxes of fruit from the storage barn.
Each crate weighed dozens of pounds, but Clark handled them as if they were empty cardboard boxes. He carried them effortlessly, loading one after another into the pickup truck.
Victor, on the other hand, moved at a far more relaxed pace.
By the time Clark had loaded seven or eight crates, Victor had just placed his second box into the truck bed, looking as casual as if he were taking a leisurely stroll.
Clark couldn't help staring at him.
"Can you move a little faster?" he finally said.
"Clark," Martha scolded gently from nearby, "your brother doesn't have your strength. Don't rush him."
Clark opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Doesn't have my strength…
He suddenly remembered the time he had tried to test Victor's grip strength. Even using both hands, he hadn't been able to pry open one of Victor's fingers.
Of course, he hadn't dared to use his full strength either.
For years, Clark had essentially been the family's living tractor, pile driver, and plow machine. Thanks to him, the farm had saved enormous amounts of money on heavy equipment.
Clark had never complained about the work.
He loved his parents deeply and was happy to help them shoulder the burden as they grew older.
But after discovering that Victor also possessed abnormal strength, Clark couldn't help feeling annoyed when he remembered how often Victor had watched him working while doing nothing.
And now Victor was still moving at that relaxed pace.
The most frustrating part was that Clark couldn't tell their parents the truth.
[Depression from Clark +4, +3…]
Victor ignored Clark's resentful stare completely.
After Clark carried another seven or eight boxes, Victor finally moved the last crate into the truck.
He climbed into the front passenger seat.
"It's already a bit cramped up here," Victor said calmly. "It'll make it harder for Dad to drive. You should sit in the back."
Clark had just finished his work and was about to climb into the truck when Victor waved him away.
The pickup only had one row of seats.
Three people fit comfortably.
Four people was tight.
Clark froze.
"Why me?" he demanded.
Victor looked at him with an expression of mild confusion.
"It wouldn't be appropriate for an older brother to take his younger brother's seat."
Clark stared at him in disbelief.
"You…"
Victor's expression remained perfectly calm, without the slightest hint of guilt.
Clark clenched his teeth, took a deep breath, and finally turned toward the truck bed in defeat.
Jonathan and Martha exchanged puzzled looks.
In the past, Clark had often rushed to the back seat first, worried that Victor might fall and hurt himself.
Why was today different?
Did the two brothers have some kind of disagreement?
Jonathan started the engine.
Clark sat in the back of the truck holding a basket of apples, his expression slightly depressed as the vehicle rolled toward town.
Soon they arrived at the suburban market.
The Kent family found a spot near the center of the open field. They set up a small tent and began arranging boxes of fresh fruit on the tables.
Clark hammered a metal stake into the ground using his thumb and hung a wooden sign that read:
FRESH FRUIT FROM KENT FARM
Victor sat behind the stall and looked up.
"You're not worried someone might see you using your abilities like that?"
The market area was lively and colorful. Temporary stalls dotted the green grass, selling everything from flowers and hot dogs to fresh produce.
Families strolled between tents while children ran across the open field.
Clark sat down beside him.
"I checked before doing it," he said. "But yeah… I'm definitely not as good at hiding things as you are."
He glanced sideways at Victor.
"You've managed to hide everything from Mom and Dad all these years."
Victor didn't answer.
Just then, a cheerful voice suddenly called out nearby.
"Clark! I didn't expect to see you here."
Victor and Clark looked up at the same time.
The sunlight reflected brightly off a perfectly bald head.
"Luthor?" Clark said in surprise.
....
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