"What small town with a bit of history doesn't have a few weird stories?" Clark scratched the back of his head and forced an easy smile, trying to sound casual despite the tension lingering in the hallway. "If anything, the meteor shower probably just gave people a new excuse to spread strange rumors."
"Maybe." Lex Luthor didn't challenge the explanation. He simply nodded slightly, the polite smile on his face never wavering.
Originally, he had intended to invest in the tragic genius who had just died behind that glass wall. A scientist like that could have pushed meteorite research forward in fascinating directions, but unfortunately he had arrived one step too late.
Still, Luthor wasn't truly disappointed.
Recently he had stumbled across something far more intriguing—an object so mysterious that it might produce an entirely different kind of surprise.
"The magic lamps from fairy tales," Luthor said suddenly, his tone thoughtful. "The kind that can grant any wish."
He paused briefly, as if considering the idea carefully.
"Do you think something like that could exist?"
Neither Clark nor Victor responded before Luthor gave a small chuckle, as though the thought amused him. With a polite nod of farewell, he turned and walked down the hallway, his expensive leather shoes echoing softly against the floor.
"I haven't seen you in a few days," Victor said once Luthor disappeared around the corner. "Your acting has improved."
Clark blinked in surprise.
"Of course," Victor added calmly, "it would've been even better if you didn't keep scratching your head and shifting your shoulders."
With that casual suggestion delivered, Victor turned and headed toward the hospital exit.
Clark didn't feel the slightest bit proud about the compliment. As he stood there, a nurse pushed Dr. Hamilton's covered body past him on a rolling gurney, heading toward the underground morgue.
Clark watched silently as the white sheet disappeared down the hallway.
He sighed.
"Meteorites…"
Another victim of the meteor shower.
If Clark had never arrived on Earth inside that blazing rock from the sky, Dr. Hamilton might still be celebrated as a respected scientist instead of the town's version of a mad Frankenstein.
Zzzzz—krrrk!
Suddenly, an explosion of harsh sound erupted inside Clark's ears.
The buzzing of hospital machines. The squeaking wheels of rolling beds. The grinding friction of metal against tile. Patients crying out in pain. Babies wailing in distant rooms.
Every sound in the hospital rushed toward him at once.
It slammed into his eardrums like a drumline pounding directly against his skull.
Clark staggered backward.
"Ah… my ears!"
He grabbed his head with both hands and stumbled toward a nearby bench before collapsing onto it, his face twisted in pain.
"Another… another ability?"
He forced himself to breathe slowly, trying to steady his racing thoughts.
Calm down.
Just like last time.
Clark had already awakened heat vision once before, and Victor had helped him learn to control it. If he could do it then, he could do it again.
Focus.
It's just another sense.
You can control it.
Gradually, Clark concentrated on narrowing the flood of noise pouring into his mind. One sound at a time faded into the background until the deafening chaos became something manageable.
The pounding in his ears slowly softened.
…
That night, inside Luthor Manor.
The office was silent and dim, illuminated only by a single lamp on the massive wooden desk.
Lex Luthor sat alone in the chair, turning a strange object slowly between his fingers.
"This was quite the unexpected discovery when I visited the Met."
The item looked like a cluster of yellow crystals growing from a dull gray stone base. Around the base was an ancient brass ring covered with tightly carved Latin inscriptions.
At first glance it appeared to be nothing more than an antique decorative piece.
The materials themselves weren't remarkable, and experts had been unable to determine its exact age. It had arrived at the Metropolitan Museum along with a shipment of Egyptian artifacts and had been casually labeled as a modern craft item worth less than a hundred dollars.
Because of that evaluation, it had never even been displayed.
Instead, Luthor had noticed it being tossed carelessly into a storage crate with a pile of miscellaneous junk.
"Fate, perhaps?"
During transport, the crystal had slipped from the top of the stacked boxes and crashed to the floor from over two meters high.
It hadn't even chipped.
Luthor possessed a refined eye for jewelry and gemstones, and the sight immediately caught his attention. Curious, he stepped forward and picked the crystal up to hand it back to the security guard.
At the time, he hadn't given it much thought.
Until he noticed the Latin inscription.
"Hold this object and make a great wish."
Sitting behind his desk now, Luthor softly recited the words carved into the brass ring.
When he first read those eight words, they had reminded him of something oddly familiar.
The strange rumors surrounding the small town.
"It sounded like something out of a fairy tale," Luthor murmured. "Like the magic lamp that grants wishes."
On a whim, he had purchased the useless artifact.
At first it had simply sat on his bookshelf as an amusing decoration.
Yesterday, however, things had changed.
While reaching for a book, he had accidentally knocked the crystal off the shelf. It fell onto the floor again.
And once again, it remained completely undamaged.
That was when Luthor's curiosity truly ignited.
"Despite being crystal, it doesn't crack under a hammer," he said quietly, staring at the object in his hand. "Even a thousand-degree flame leaves no mark."
A faint heat burned behind his eyes.
He had tried nearly every method imaginable to break the crystal apart.
None of them worked.
Not even the smallest scratch remained.
"This is far beyond anything a normal material should be capable of."
The computer beside his desk displayed the results of an expensive private investigation. Photos of ancient carvings and historical records filled the screen.
"Four thousand years ago, you appeared in the Indus Valley," Luthor said softly while reading the report. "In 146 BC, you surfaced again in Carthage. In 4 AD, the Kush Empire…"
His voice darkened.
"Romulus II, the final emperor of the Western Roman Empire, was found clutching you when he was assassinated."
Luthor slowly lifted the stone.
"Mirror, mirror," he murmured with quiet amusement. "What secrets are you hiding?"
He spoke the words almost like a fairy tale spell.
Seconds passed.
Nothing happened.
Of course, he hadn't actually intended to make a wish. His tone had been half mocking.
Still, Luthor was convinced of one thing.
The object was real.
If the artifact truly possessed the power to grant wishes, then either enormous restrictions existed… or the price of using it was unimaginable.
"Otherwise," Luthor said with a faint smirk, "Romulus II would still be ruling the world today."
Half of his face disappeared into shadow beneath the desk lamp.
"Don't worry," he whispered. "I'll uncover your secret eventually."
Only after that would he decide what wish to make.
Perhaps he would use it to understand the true nature of meteorites.
Or perhaps—
"To become a modern Alexander," Luthor murmured, "and rule the world."
…
Later that night, the Kent farm lay quiet beneath a sky filled with stars.
A cool breeze drifted across the fields as Victor walked alongside Kayla outside the house. Since she was the only person in the family who knew Kayla well, Martha had asked Victor to personally thank her.
After walking about ten meters in silence, Victor finally spoke.
"Thanks for everything you did today."
"It was nothing, Naama."
Kayla's steps were light, and her face glowed with quiet happiness.
"I would do anything for you."
"You're the savior chosen by destiny."
Victor sighed faintly.
"Can you stop calling me Naama?"
He had never believed the prophecy in the first place. Before today he hadn't cared much about the nickname, but things were different now.
Kayla had become a friend of the family.
Martha and Jonathan both liked the brave and intelligent girl very much.
"You've spent time with Clark now," Victor continued calmly. "The Sergai your tribe believes will destroy the world obviously isn't him."
Victor shrugged slightly.
"Give him a girl to worry about and he'll forget everything else. How is someone like that supposed to conquer the planet?"
Kayla laughed softly.
According to the prophecy, Sergai possessed the strength of ten men and could shoot fire from his eyes. Considering Clark was technically an alien, a few unusual abilities weren't exactly shocking.
As for the prophecy's "fire from the heavens," it was probably just a misunderstanding by ancient people who didn't understand what a spaceship looked like.
"And this whole savior thing…" Victor muttered.
He doubted the tribe that made the prophecy had even understood the true scale of the world. To them, the entire planet probably looked like nothing more than a stretch of valleys and hills.
"Alright," Kayla said with a bright smile. "If you don't like Naama, can I call you David instead?"
Victor didn't object.
Kayla's expression softened as she continued.
"Your brother Clark doesn't look anything like someone destined to destroy the world."
She thought back to her interactions with him.
Clark was shy, kind, and deeply devoted to his family.
"But even the most dangerous crocodile is harmless when it first hatches," she added quietly.
Kayla's smile faded slightly.
"The prophecy has existed for five hundred years. I can't simply assume it's wrong."
"The bloodthirsty nature of a lion exists deep in its bones," she continued thoughtfully. "Even if it tries to resist its destiny, it can't survive by eating grass forever."
"Sooner or later… its fangs will show."
Victor didn't respond.
…
"Naama? Sergai? Destroy the world… me?"
Inside the barn attic, Clark stood frozen in shock.
He had been practicing control over his newly awakened super hearing when he accidentally overheard Victor and Kayla's entire conversation from dozens of meters away.
Clark blinked in disbelief.
"They have to be joking…"
Victor climbed the ladder a few minutes later, returning to the attic where Clark liked to stargaze.
Clark turned toward him immediately.
"Victor," he asked slowly, "what were you and Kayla talking about just now?"
....
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