Chapter 6: Unseen Threats (Part1)
DC universe (Earth-2609th)
1994, Smallville, Kansas
The morning sun slowly crept over the horizon, casting a soft, golden light across the Kent farm. Clark Kent, who had been awake for some time, lay quietly in his bed, his mind buzzing with thoughts. The events of the past year—his nightly patrols, the enhancements to his lead-lined suit, and his ongoing search for rare materials—were all part of the ever-growing complexity of his life.
As the first rays of sunlight touched his skin, Clark felt a familiar warmth spread through his body, recharging him in a way that was both comforting and empowering. He opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling, and silently called out to the one presence that had become his constant companion.
"SS, you there?" Clark thought, his mind reaching out.
[Good morning, Clark. I am here. How can I assist you today?]
The familiar voice of the Superman Supporting System, or SS, responded instantly, its tone calm and precise.
Clark sat up in bed, stretching slightly as he began to mentally review the recent activities. "I was thinking about everything we've been working on lately. Let's go over the recent activities and see where we stand."
[Understood. Beginning review. First on the agenda: nightly patrols.]
Clark leaned back, recalling the nights he had spent observing the Gotham City. These patrols were more about understanding the different environments he might one day protect. He wasn't ready to take on the role of a hero just yet, but he knew that he needed to prepare himself for the day when he would be.
[Gotham City: Observations indicate that it remains a city struggling with crime, though no significant events involving metahuman activity have been detected. Your weekend patrols in Gotham City continue to yield positive outcomes. You successfully intervened in three potential muggings and prevented a robbery at a convenience store. Additionally, your combat skills and reflexes have improved by approximately 7% based on the latest analysis. Current age of Bruce Wayne: 13 years. No evidence suggests that the future Batman has begun any training or crime-fighting activities.]
Clark nodded, absorbing the information. "So, no Batman yet. That's probably for the best—less competition," he joked lightly, though there was a seriousness behind his words. He knew that one day, he might have to work alongside or even against other powerful individuals.
[Correct. However, early surveillance of key locations and individuals will be crucial in the future. This includes monitoring individuals such as Lex Luthor and, eventually, Bruce Wayne.]
Clark filed that information away for later. "What about the suit? Any progress with the enhancements?"
[Affirmative. The lead-lined suit has been upgraded to increase resistance against Kryptonite radiation, approximately 90% complete. The adjustments should allow you to withstand exposure for longer periods. However, further field testing is recommended to ensure optimal performance.]
Clark felt a sense of relief. The suit had been his first line of defense against Kryptonite, the one substance that could weaken or even kill him. Knowing that it had been improved gave him some peace of mind. "I'll test it out soon. Maybe I'll wear it when we start clearing out those Kryptonites from around Smallville."
[That would be advisable. The enhanced suit will provide necessary protection during the removal process.]
Clark shifted his focus to another topic that had been on his mind. "What about Nth Metal and Orichalcum? Any leads?"
[Nth Metal: No significant progress has been made in locating a viable source. However, it is theorized to exist in locations with high concentrations of mystical energy. Further research and exploration are required.]
[Orichalcum: Preliminary scans suggest a possible deposit in the Atlantic Ocean, near the location historically associated with Atlantis. Further investigation is needed, though the journey will be challenging given current age and resources.]
Clark frowned slightly. These materials were key to some of the advanced technology he was hoping to develop, but finding them was proving difficult. He had learned about them through the SS's database, which provided him with knowledge far beyond what most people on Earth could comprehend. The idea of exploring the depths of the ocean or traversing mystical sites was daunting, but he knew it was only a matter of time before he would be ready.
"Alright, we'll keep looking. Maybe we can find something closer to home for now," Clark mused.
[Agreed. It is important to balance current capabilities with the need for continued growth. Focus on training and immediate goals while gathering information on more distant objectives.]
Clark smiled at the SS's pragmatic approach. It was easy to get lost in the grand plans and forget that he was still just a child—albeit one with extraordinary powers. "Speaking of growth, how's my overall strength looking?"
[Accessing Status Window… Current strength level: 35% of maximum potential. This represents a significant increase from last month's assessment. Solar energy absorption and recent training exercises have contributed to this growth. Additional training is recommended to continue this trajectory.]
Clark felt a surge of pride. He had been working hard, and it was paying off. But he also knew that there was a long way to go. "35%… still a lot of room to grow. Guess that means more training."
[Correct. Continued focus on strength, speed, and sensory control will be crucial as you approach your full potential. It is also advisable to begin considering the psychological and strategic aspects of your development.]
Clark raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Psychological and strategic?"
[As your powers increase, so will the complexity of the challenges you face. It is important to develop not only physical abilities but also the mental fortitude and strategic thinking required to navigate future conflicts. Emotional control, decision-making under pressure, and ethical considerations will play a significant role in your success.]
Clark nodded slowly, taking in the SS's advice. It was easy to focus on the physical side of his powers, but he knew that being Superman would require much more than just strength. "You're right. I need to be ready for anything. Let's add some mental training to our routine—maybe some problem-solving exercises or simulations of difficult decisions."
[Acknowledged. New training protocols will be developed and integrated into your daily schedule. Simulation scenarios will include ethical dilemmas, strategic planning, and emotional regulation techniques.]
---
The Kents' Dining Room
The morning sun poured through the windows of the Kent farmhouse, bathing the cozy dining room in a warm, golden light. The smell of freshly cooked bacon and eggs filled the air as Martha Kent placed a plate in front of her husband, Jonathan. Clark sat at the table, already halfway through his breakfast, his mind wandering as he contemplated the day ahead.
"Clark, eat your vegetables too," Martha gently reminded, her tone motherly yet firm.
"Yes, Mom," Clark replied, pushing some scrambled eggs around his plate as he thought about his next training session. The recent conversation with the SS system was still fresh in his mind.
Jonathan unfolded the morning newspaper, his face creasing with concern as he read the front-page headline. "Martha, listen to this," he said, his voice tinged with worry. "Lillian Luthor, the wife of Lionel Luthor, has passed away. The paper says she died suddenly, and there's speculation about foul play."
Martha's hand paused over the table as she was about to pour herself a cup of coffee. "That's terrible news," she murmured. "What about Lex? He's just a boy…"
Clark looked up from his plate, his interest piqued. He had seen Lex Luthor around town on a few occasions when Lex visited Smallville with his father, Lionel. Though they had never spoken, Clark could sense there was something different about Lex—something that set him apart from the other children.
Jonathan shook his head, his expression grim. "No details on how he's doing. But it's got to be tough losing your mother at that age. Can't imagine what he's going through."
Clark felt a pang of sympathy for Lex. Despite the Luthor family's reputation, Clark couldn't help but feel sorry for a boy who had just lost his mother. He wondered if this event would change Lex, if it would harden him or if it might be the beginning of something darker.
"Smallville's going to be talking about this for a while," Martha added, her voice heavy with concern. "And knowing Lionel, he'll be using this to his advantage somehow. Poor Lex…"
Clark remained silent, his thoughts drifting to the potential impact this tragedy might have, not just on Lex but on the entire town. It seemed like everything was starting to change.
As breakfast continued, the Kent family exchanged quiet, concerned glances. The news of Lillian Luthor's death cast a shadow over the peaceful morning, a reminder that even in their small town, they weren't insulated from the turmoil of the outside world.
---
Lex Luthor's Boarding School
The sprawling grounds of Excelsior Academy were eerily quiet as the morning mist clung to the tall, ancient trees that lined the pathways. Lex Luthor sat alone on a bench near the school's main entrance, his pale hands clutching a well-worn book. He had always found solace in reading, losing himself in the stories to escape the cold reality of his life. But today, even the pages of his book offered no comfort.
A group of students walked by, whispering among themselves and casting furtive glances in Lex's direction. He ignored them, his mind focused on the characters in his book, desperately trying to drown out the world around him.
Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps approached, breaking his concentration. Lex looked up to see two men dressed in casual clothing, their eyes sharp and predatory. They were reporters, though Lex didn't recognize them. Before he could react, they were upon him, shoving microphones and cameras in his face.
"Lex Luthor, how do you feel about your mother's death?" one of the reporters barked, his tone devoid of any sympathy.
Lex's heart stopped. The world around him seemed to freeze as the words sank in. "What… what did you say?" he stammered, his voice barely a whisper.
"Your mother, Lillian Luthor, she's dead. What's your reaction to the news?" the other reporter pressed, thrusting a microphone closer to Lex's face.
Lex felt the ground tilt beneath him as if the very earth had betrayed him. His book slipped from his hands, landing in the dirt, but he didn't notice. His mind was spinning, trying to process the impossible news. His mother… dead? It couldn't be true. She was the one person in the world who had shown him any real affection, who had protected him from his father's harshness.
A surge of panic and disbelief coursed through Lex. "No… you're lying," he choked out, but the cold, uncaring expressions on the reporters' faces told him otherwise.
One of the reporters took a step closer, sensing weakness. "It's all over the news, Lex. How does it feel to lose the only person who ever cared about you?"
The words struck Lex like a physical blow, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe. The world around him blurred, and all he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. His mother was gone, and he had learned about it from strangers, not from his father, not from anyone who cared.
Something inside Lex snapped. His grief quickly morphed into rage—a cold, controlled fury that hardened his resolve. He pushed past the reporters, his face a mask of anger and determination. "Get away from me," he hissed, his voice shaking with barely contained emotion. "You have no right to talk to me."
The reporters backed off, realizing they had gone too far, but it didn't matter. The damage was done. Lex ran back toward the school, his mind racing. He needed answers, but more than that, he needed to get away from these vultures, to find some semblance of control in a world that had just turned upside down.
As he entered the school building, Lex's thoughts were already shifting, calculating. He knew he would have to face his father soon, but this time, he wouldn't be the same. His mother's death had changed everything.
---
Metropolis
In the lavish office of Lionel Luthor, the atmosphere was one of cold efficiency. The walls were lined with dark, rich wood, and the floor was covered in a deep burgundy carpet that absorbed the sound of footsteps. A large mahogany desk dominated the room, its surface immaculate, save for a single framed photo of Lillian Luthor, placed prominently at the center.
Lionel Luthor stood by the window, his sharp eyes gazing out over the sprawling estate that bore his name. His expression was unreadable, a mask of controlled emotion that had served him well throughout his career. The news of Lillian's death had reached him hours ago, but to anyone who looked at him now, it would seem as though the event had no impact on him whatsoever.
He had known this day was coming. Lillian's health had been deteriorating for years, and while her passing was not entirely unexpected, it was inconvenient. Lionel had loved Lillian in his own way, but he had always been pragmatic, seeing her more as a valuable asset than as a partner. Her death left a void, not just in his personal life but in the Luthor family's public image—a void he would have to manage carefully.
As Lionel turned away from the window, his gaze fell on the photo of Lillian. He picked it up, studying her serene expression. "You always were the heart of this family," he murmured, his voice devoid of warmth. "And now, that heart is gone."
He placed the photo back on the desk, his mind already working through the implications of her death. Lex would be devastated, of course, but Lionel had never had much patience for emotional weakness. This would be a test for his son—a chance for Lex to prove whether he was truly a Luthor or just a boy who needed his mother's protection.
A knock on the door interrupted Lionel's thoughts. "Enter," he commanded, his voice cold and authoritative.
One of Lionel's personal assistants stepped into the room, his demeanor respectful but efficient. "Mr. Luthor, the arrangements for Mrs. Luthor's funeral are being finalized. The service will be held at the family's private chapel."
Lionel nodded curtly. "Ensure that the press is kept at a distance. I want no interruptions."
"Of course, sir," the assistant replied before hesitating slightly. "And… Master Lex? He should be informed…"
"I will handle Lex," Lionel cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument. "He needs to understand that this is the way of the world. People die, and the strong move on."
The assistant bowed his head slightly and left the room, leaving Lionel alone once more.
As the door closed behind him, Lionel's gaze returned to the photo of Lillian. He knew he had to be strong, not just for the sake of his family's reputation but for the legacy he intended to build. Lex would learn that the world was a harsh, unforgiving place, and if he wanted to survive in it, he would have to be just as ruthless as his father.
Lionel sat down at his desk, reaching for the phone. He had calls to make, arrangements to finalize, and an empire to protect. Lillian's death was a setback, but it was also an opportunity—one that Lionel intended to exploit fully.
As he dialed the number, Lionel's mind was already several steps ahead, calculating the next moves in his intricate game of power and control. Lillian's death had changed the landscape, but Lionel was a master at adapting, and he knew that in the end, the Luthor name would emerge stronger than ever.
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