Chapter 18

The New York City skyline glittered in the fading twilight, a forest of steel and glass stretching as far as the eye could see. On the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse in Brooklyn, two figures sat side by side, their legs dangling over the edge. Clark Kent and Annie January, better known to the world as Superman and Starlight, watched the city come alive as night fell.

"I never get tired of this view," Annie said softly, her blonde hair catching the last rays of sunlight. "It reminds me why we do what we do. All those people down there, living their lives, dreaming their dreams..."

Clark nodded, understanding perfectly. "It's beautiful. And fragile. They deserve better than what Vought's giving them."

Annie turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face. "How do you do it, Clark? How do you stay so... good? So uncorrupted by all of this?"

The question hung in the air between them, weighted with unspoken pain and doubt. Clark took a moment before answering, choosing his words carefully.

"I'm not perfect, Annie. I struggle every day with the choices I have to make, the compromises I'm forced into. But I try to remember what my parents taught me – that true strength comes from compassion, not power."

Annie's shoulders slumped, and suddenly she looked very young and very tired. "I wish I had that kind of clarity. Ever since I joined The Seven, it's like I'm losing myself piece by piece. The things I've seen, the things I've been asked to do..."

Her voice trailed off, choked with emotion. Without thinking, Clark put a comforting hand on her shoulder, offering what support he could.

"You're stronger than you know, Annie. The fact that you're still fighting, still questioning – that's what matters. You haven't lost yourself. You're just finding out who you really are."

Annie leaned into his touch, drawing strength from his presence. "Can I tell you something, Clark? Something I haven't told anyone else?"

"Of course," he replied, his voice gentle. "You can trust me."

Taking a deep breath, Annie began to speak. She told him about the darker side of The Seven – the cover-ups, the blackmail, the casual cruelty. And then, her voice barely above a whisper, she shared a secret that made Clark's blood run cold.

"The night I joined The Seven... The Deep, he... he tried to..." Annie's voice broke, tears welling in her eyes. "I fought him off, but if I hadn't been strong enough, if I hadn't had my powers..."

Clark's jaw clenched, a mixture of rage and sorrow washing over him. "Annie, I'm so sorry. What he did... it's unforgivable."

Annie wiped her eyes, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "The worst part is, Vought covered it all up. They made me smile for the cameras, stand next to him like nothing happened. And now, every day, I have to work with him, pretend everything's fine."

Clark's mind raced, torn between his desire to comfort Annie and the overwhelming urge to confront The Deep, to make him pay for what he'd done. But before he could speak, a sound reached his superhuman hearing – a sound that made his heart stop.

"Misty," he whispered, horror dawning on his face. Misty's voice, screaming his name. Filled with pain, terror, and desperation.

"Clark? What's wrong?" Annie asked, alarmed by his sudden change.

But Clark was already standing, his eyes focused on some distant point. "I'm sorry, Annie. I have to go. Now."

Annie's eyes widened, fearing the worst had happened to someone he cared about. "Clar-"

Before finishing her sentence, he was gone. Breaking the sound barrier and shattering the windows of nearby cars. Alarms blasted down the block. Blowing Annie herself off her feet...

.....

...

...

In a blur of motion, Superman took to the skies, pushing his powers to their limits as he raced toward Misty's home in Georgia. The world blurred around him, buildings and landscapes melting into a smear of color as he broke the sound barrier again and again.

As he approached Misty's house, Clark's enhanced vision took in the scene, and his heart clenched with fear. The front door was gone, ripped off its hinges. A trail of blood led from the doorway into the house.

Landing with enough force to crack the pavement, Clark rushed inside, heedless of any danger to himself. He followed the trail of blood, his super-hearing picking up the faintest whisper of Misty's heartbeat.

"Clark..."

The sound was so weak, so fragile, that for a moment Clark thought he had imagined it. But then he saw her.

Misty lay crumpled on the kitchen floor, her body broken and bleeding. Her face was barely recognizable through the bruises and swelling. With what seemed to be the last of her strength, she reached out a trembling hand towards him.

Clark was at her side in an instant, gently cradling her broken form. "Misty, I'm here. I'm here. You're going to be okay. I promise."

But even as he spoke the words, Clark knew the situation was dire. Misty's heartbeat was erratic, fading. She needed immediate medical attention.

And then, a sound that chilled Clark to his very core. The clink of a glass being set down on the kitchen table.

"Finally, The man of the hour arrives."

Clark looked up, his eyes meeting the cold, blue gaze of Homelander. The leader of The Seven sat casually at Misty's kitchen table, a half-empty glass of milk in front of him. He wore his trademark smirk, but there was something different in his eyes – a glimmer of cruel satisfaction.

"You know, I've always wondered what it would take to really get under your skin, 'Clark'," Homelander drawled, taking another sip of milk. "Turns out, all I needed was to find the right... leverage. I was going to go for the two bigger fish in Kansas, but why not start off with an appetizer."

Something snapped inside Clark. A dam of emotion he had always kept carefully in check burst, flooding his system with a rage unlike anything he had ever experienced. At that moment, he realized the truth – he loved Misty. And Homelander had hurt her, had nearly killed her, all to get to him. The bigger fish in Kansas.... he was talking about his parents.

The world seemed to slow down, every detail etched with crystal clarity. Clark could see the smug confidence in Homelander's eyes, the faint tremor in Misty's breathing, the droplets of milk clinging to the glass.

And then, faster than thought, faster than he had ever moved before, Clark acted.

The kitchen exploded into motion. The table shattered as Clark slammed Homelander through it, driving him into the floor with enough force to crack the foundation of the house. Plaster rained down from the ceiling as the two titans grappled, each blow echoing like thunder.

"You wanted my attention?" Clark growled, his voice barely recognizable. "Well, now you have it!"

Grabbing Homelander's cape, Superman took off through the roof at speeds he'd never achieved before. He was a blur.

Homelander's eyes widened in genuine shock and – for the first time – he felt utterly helpless. He had never seen Superman like this, never felt the full, unleashed fury of the Man of Steel. He would learn today.