Night had fallen, and the sky was scattered with cold, distant stars. Thick dark clouds drifted lazily across the heavens, slowly swallowing half the moon and dimming the faint silver glow that hung over the quiet town.
Rickman returned home late that evening after spending the entire afternoon dealing with company business. The fire in the living room fireplace crackled softly, casting flickering orange light across the walls and furniture. Sitting heavily in his armchair, Rickman stared into the flames with a gloomy, predatory expression, like a beast patiently waiting for the moment to devour its prey.
Ever since the meteor shower more than ten years ago—when he mysteriously gained his abilities—his life had changed completely. Once he had been nothing more than a struggling salesman who tried desperately to charm every client he met, barely holding onto a job and nearly fired more than once. Now he was wealthy, powerful, and feared.
"I haven't felt threatened or humiliated like that in a long time… Man in Blue."
Several tiny clumps of soil recovered from the soles of a pair of shoes had been collected from his living room floor. Rickman had already sent them for laboratory testing, and the results would arrive tomorrow morning. His eyes narrowed as he turned a few sealed test tubes between his fingers.
"Once the results come back, I'll send soil samples from those farms to the Geological Survey Bureau for comparison," he muttered quietly. "It won't be hard to determine which farm you're connected to."
These samples were taken personally during his visits that afternoon. While negotiating the land purchases, he had discreetly collected small amounts of soil from several properties without anyone noticing.
Soil analysis was complicated, but it was far from impossible. Different locations produced vastly different chemical and biological compositions. Organic materials, inorganic compounds, bacteria, and microorganisms varied from place to place, leaving behind unique environmental signatures.
Farm soil was even easier to distinguish. Some farms raised livestock, mixing manure into the earth. Others grew corn or wheat, while some specialized in fruits and vegetables. Different fertilizers, brands, and cultivation methods all left detectable traces.
"Tracking you down won't be difficult, Man in Blue."
From the moment he signed the land acquisition contracts to the moment the mysterious blue-clad man appeared in his house at noon to threaten him, only a few hours had passed. The man had appeared in the middle of a quiet rural town as if he knew exactly where to go.
Rickman refused to believe it was a coincidence.
"There's no way he was just some random masked vigilante who happened to hear about it."
His gaze darkened.
"It has to be connected to those farmers."
A gust of wind swept through the yard outside, rattling the windows. The curtains fluttered open, and pale moonlight spilled into the living room like a layer of silver mist.
At some unknown moment, a figure appeared silently on the sofa across from him.
"You've been very thorough."
A deep voice broke the silence.
"Who's there?!"
Rickman reacted instantly. Startled like a frightened bird, he sprang up from his chair beside the fireplace and pulled a silver pistol from beneath the seat. He aimed the weapon directly at the dark figure sitting calmly on the sofa.
After being threatened once—possibly twice—by the Man in Blue, Rickman had spent the entire afternoon hiding firearms throughout his house in case of an emergency.
"Every place you step leaves a trace."
The figure sitting on the sofa seemed completely unconcerned about the gun pointed at him. His voice remained calm and thoughtful, almost as if he were speaking to himself.
"Looks like someone was so proud of getting ahead of me that he forgot to clean up the rest."
When Victor heard Rickman talking about sending the soil samples for geological comparison, it was easy to figure out what had happened. A certain Kryptonian might have gotten a little carried away, or perhaps he was simply nervous the first time he interfered in something like this and didn't realize he had left clues behind.
"Looks like it's about time to catch that little tail."
Victor slowly stood up from the shadows, revealing a cold, expressionless face.
"Who… who are you?"
The moment Rickman saw the stranger clearly, his eyes widened in shock. The skin of the man standing before him had a faint purple hue, and the gun in Rickman's hand suddenly felt completely useless.
After merging with the second template, the distinctive vertical ridges along Victor's chin had disappeared. However, whenever he exerted the immense physical power of the Eternal physiology, his skin still took on that faint violet tone.
He had arrived moments earlier at nearly the speed of sound, and the transformation hadn't fully faded yet.
Victor moved.
In a blur, he appeared directly in front of Rickman. Before Rickman could even react, Victor grabbed him by the throat and vanished from the villa.
Rickman couldn't breathe. The world blurred around him as wind roared in his ears. Only a few seconds later the spinning stopped, and he was thrown violently onto a freezing concrete surface.
The location was a dark, deserted alley.
Rickman struggled to his feet in panic, his head still spinning as he looked around. After a moment he recognized the surroundings.
This was one of the back streets of Metropolis.
"Where… where is this?"
"Your burial ground."
"W-Who are you?!"
The terrifying presence radiating from the purple-skinned figure made Rickman's heart nearly stop. Every hair on his body stood upright as fear and anger twisted together in his chest.
Creak.
"You don't need to know who I am."
Two purple beams suddenly shot from Victor's eyes. At the same moment, the pistol Rickman had been holding somehow ended up in Victor's hand.
With a screeching metallic sound, Victor crushed the weapon effortlessly. The steel twisted like soft clay under his grip, melting into a glowing ball of molten metal that dripped between his fingers before splattering onto the pavement.
"Y-You…!"
Rickman's anger vanished instantly. The words died in his throat as terror replaced them. He stared at the horrifying scene in disbelief.
"All you need to know," Victor said coldly, "is that you made a worried couple argue all morning."
His eyes remained fixed on Rickman.
"And that you were trying to take houses and land that never belonged to you."
Returning the farms and houses would never be enough to settle the matter. Letting someone like Rickman walk away unharmed was simply not an option.
"If you do something wrong," Victor said quietly, "you pay the price."
"I have money! I have a lot of money!"
Rickman's voice trembled violently as desperation overtook him. He stared at the glowing purple eyes in front of him, feeling as if death itself had come for him.
"I can give it all to you! Just spare my life!"
He could not understand how such a disaster had happened simply because he used his abilities to seize the land of a few farmers from a rural town. He had done things like this many times before in Metropolis without consequence.
First there had been the incredibly fast Man in Blue.
Now there was this purple-skinned monster.
"Thirty million… no, eighty million!"
Before he could finish the sentence, Victor's expression remained unchanged.
Twin beams of energy shot from his eyes, tearing through the darkness. Rickman didn't even have time to scream before his body was burned into a pile of ash that scattered across the damp pavement of the filthy alley.
Victor turned and disappeared into the night.
…
The next morning, outside the school gates, Clark stopped Victor as he was leaving home.
"Victor… you know what happened, don't you?"
Clark's expression was filled with worry.
"This morning my parents and several farmers went to the police station to report the situation. That's when they found out Rickman had disappeared."
His voice grew hesitant.
"Did you… kill someone again?"
Clark didn't want to assume the worst, but not long ago a police detective had disappeared after encountering Victor. It was impossible not to think of that incident.
He finally understood why Victor had been so calm yesterday. The behavior had felt completely out of character.
By the time he finished speaking, Clark couldn't hide the frustration in his voice.
"Isn't it normal for someone to run away from Metropolis after realizing their secret might be exposed?"
Victor spread his hands casually.
"Besides, with his abilities, he'll have plenty of opportunities to profit wherever he goes."
"No…"
Clark wanted to say more.
But as they walked onto campus, Victor casually pulled a rough, fist-sized meteorite from his pocket. The moment Clark saw it, he immediately stepped backward helplessly.
"Victor! I only asked you a few questions, and you're actually using meteorites against me."
Under the strange radiation from the rock, Clark backed away with a wounded look of disbelief.
"Don't misunderstand," Victor said calmly, tossing the meteorite lightly in his palm. "Did you forget about Mr. Reagan's geography assignment?"
"We were told to collect different types of rocks using the identification methods he taught us. I was assigned meteorites and rose quartz."
In most places it would sound ridiculous for a teacher to assign students to collect meteorites as homework. But in Smallville—a town famous for being the epicenter of the meteor shower years ago—meteor fragments could be found almost everywhere.
Clark, who was extremely sensitive to meteorites, could only watch helplessly as his brother walked away. He decided he would try asking again after school.
When classes finally ended that afternoon, the sky outside had turned dark and heavy. Thick clouds hung low overhead, threatening an approaching storm.
Clark looked up gloomily.
After school, Chloe had dragged him aside and asked him to help edit and proofread articles for the school newspaper. By the time he finished, Victor had already disappeared somewhere on campus.
He had missed the school bus and now had to walk home.
Most of the time Clark disliked having abilities that made him different from everyone else. Tonight he decided to simply walk home slowly and wait for the rain to start before using his powers.
"Maybe I can figure out how to ask Victor about everything on the way."
Ten minutes later, Clark stepped onto a bridge outside town.
As he glanced up casually, his expression suddenly changed.
"Avery?! What are you doing?"
A cold wind blew across the bridge. Standing precariously on the railing was a rebellious-looking teenager wearing headphones. He stared down toward the dam below while casually tossing stones from his bag into the water.
Clark recognized him immediately.
Avery Reagan, their classmate—and the son of their geography teacher.
Mr. Reagan always insisted Avery call him "teacher" at school instead of "dad." Earlier that afternoon, during geography class, he had harshly scolded Avery in front of the entire class for only completing half of his homework.
"Get down from there! It's dangerous!"
Clark shouted urgently.
But Avery couldn't hear anything. The loud rock music blasting through his headphones drowned out the warning.
Flash!
A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky with a deafening rumble.
Seeing the dangerous situation, Clark rushed forward and grabbed Avery around the waist, trying to pull him off the railing before he slipped or got struck by lightning.
Standing high above the ground while wearing electronic devices made him an easy lightning target.
Crack!
A blinding bolt suddenly struck the bridge.
The lightning hit both of them at the same time.
Inside Avery's backpack, the meteorite he had collected for the geography assignment began to glow brightly. The lightning connecting their bodies suddenly turned an eerie green.
Sizzle!
"AAAAAH!"
Clark's body convulsed violently from the shock. After a brief moment of paralysis, he collapsed onto the bridge with a cry of pain.
Avery also fell to the ground. His clothes were scorched, and sparks flickered across the torn fabric.
"Are you okay, Avery?"
Clark slowly pushed himself up. Aside from some lingering numbness, he felt strangely fine.
He moved toward Avery, intending to help him up and check if he was injured.
But Avery looked dizzy, and the sparks burning on his clothes suddenly brushed against Clark.
"Ah!"
Clark jerked his hand back as if he had been electrocuted again. His eyes widened as he stared at the painful blisters forming on his palm.
"It was just a spark… so why did it hurt?"
When he looked up again, the sparks were still burning faintly on Avery's chest. Yet Avery seemed completely unharmed. Aside from a little dizziness, he slowly regained consciousness.
"Clark?"
....
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