Kapitel 22: Chapter 22: A Clash of Steel
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(Jon's P.O.V)
"Jon, why—"
I didn't let my father finish. I slammed into him, driving my shoulder into his midsection mid-flight. The force of my charge carried him higher, away from the farm. I couldn't let Ma hear what was coming.
"Stop!"
We halted abruptly, just above the stratosphere. For all the power I'd put into the push, Dad had become immovable.
'Well, this is high enough.'
I broke away, creating some distance between us. Dad, floating there, had his hands out in that pleading way of his.
"Son, talk to me. Why did you hit me?"
"Would you accept Connor if I just asked you nicely?"
The question hung in the air between us. His body tensed, his expression hardening.
"Is that what this is about?" His voice had cooled.
"Answer me," I demanded.
For a moment, his face was a war of emotions—then it settled into something unyielding.
"No."
The word triggered something in me, and before I could stop myself, my eyebeams fired. His own beams met mine, effortlessly overpowering them and forcing me back. But Batman taught me how Dad fights—how he thinks. I knew his habits, his blind spots.
"You leave your left side open, Pa."
Using the cover of a cold breath misting in the air, I struck with my foot, catching him off-guard. The impact spun him around like a top. Blood dripped from his mouth as he dabbed a finger against his torn lip, his eyes flashing with confusion.
"J-Jon… you tore my lip."
"I was aiming for a tooth," I shot back, dropping into a Jeet Kune Do stance.
He stared at me, like he didn't recognize who I'd become. Slowly, he straightened up, his expression sharpening. My instincts screamed danger.
"Batman's taught you well," he said, his tone more serious.
"And I've been learning."
Jeet Kune Do was all about fast, brutal strikes—a style Batman insisted was perfect for someone like me. Speed and strength, combined with relentless attacks. Perfect for someone as tough as Superman.
"Jon, I won't fight you. You're my son."
"Then you're going to get your ass kicked until you recognize your own—"
He moved faster than I could react, his hand wrapping around my throat like a vice.
"And I'm faster, stronger, and more experienced," he said, his grip tightening. "I've had my powers for decades. You've barely had them for a few years, Son. Why don't we stop this madness and go down? Your mom's bacon and eggs sound amazing right now."
"Not… until you—"
The grip on my neck cut off my air. Even Kryptonians need oxygen, and blood flow to the brain.
Dad sighed. "Even we pass out when our circulation's cut off."
He spoke casually, as if he wasn't choking the life out of me. I punched and kicked at him, but he didn't even flinch.
"I don't want to do this, Jon. But I'll stop you before you go too far. Fighting your father like this—" His voice grew colder, "—is disrespectful."
There was no holding back from him anymore. The way he spoke, the way he handled me—it wasn't the dad I knew. There was no softness, no restraint. The pressure around my throat was unbearable, my vision darkening. I thought I had a chance. I thought maybe I could make him listen. But the raw power he held over me was suffocating.
Fear gnawed at me. I wanted to surrender. To apologize. But I couldn't. I couldn't let him win.
"That's it, Jon," he whispered near my ear. "Go to sleep, son. We'll figure this out together. Violence won't solve anything."
'No!'
My hand fumbled for the crystal pendant around my neck—the one that stored extra solar energy. It was my last hope.
But before I could activate it, Dad ripped it off me, tossing it aside like it was nothing.
"I'm disappointed in you, Jon," he said quietly, shaking his head. "You only won against that Starro-controlled version of me because it wasn't really me you were fighting. Remember this—you failed today because you're weak."
The last thing I heard before darkness swallowed me was his voice, heavy with disapproval.
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(General P.O.V)
Clark cradled Jon's unconscious body in his arms, his eyes clouded with regret.
"I'm sorry, Jon. But I have to protect this family…"
A holographic projection flickered to life nearby. Jor-El's calm, disapproving voice echoed from the crystal pendant.
"He's right, you know."
Clark's jaw clenched. "I didn't ask for your opinion."
"Nevertheless, you need to hear it," Jor-El said firmly. "Whatever concerns you have about Kon-El, he is still your son. An El. We don't abandon our own."
Clark whirled on him, anger flashing in his eyes. "That's rich, coming from you. You abandoned me, remember?"
Jor-El's holographic face remained impassive. "Don't be a child, Kal-El. Krypton was dying. We did what we had to—to protect you. As all parents must."
Clark didn't respond, lowering his gaze to Jon, lying limp in his arms.
Jor-El's voice softened. "What is this really about, Kal-El? I've never seen you like this."
Clark's shoulders slumped, the weight of the question settling on him. He didn't look at Jor-El as he spoke.
"I don't hate Connor."
He sighed heavily. "I hate that I needed Jon to save me from Starro. I should have been the one protecting him. I hate that Jon had to fight to save Lois when I should've been there."
Jor-El fell silent, listening.
Clark's voice trembled as he continued. "I don't hate Connor. But I can't let anyone get close enough to hurt us again. And with Lex Luthor in the picture…"
"Luthor?" Jor-El asked, his brow furrowing.
"Batman found out that Luthor has a connection to Cadmus," Clark explained. "I don't think Connor even knows it, but I'm certain Luthor is behind this. And I can't trust anyone he's touched."
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(Jon's P.O.V)
I came to, groaning as I opened my eyes. We were at our spot, at the edge of our farm.
"Ugh… my head…"
"Jon! You're awake." Dad let me go, his hands resting on my shoulders, concern replacing his earlier anger.
"I heard what you said," I muttered, shaking off the dizziness. "You think Luthor's using Connor. Well, then if we take out Luthor, you'll have no reason to keep pushing Connor away."
Dad's face darkened, and for a second, I tensed, thinking he might yell again. Or worse.
"Jon, drop it. Lex Luthor isn't someone you can deal with on your own. Stay away from him."
"But—"
"No!" His voice boomed with finality. "You will have nothing to do with Luthor. That's an order."
I looked toward Grandpa Jor-El, hoping for support. He shook his head.
"Jon-El," my grandfather said, "your father is right. You're not ready for a man like Luthor."
Anger flared in me, but I swallowed it down. Without another word, I turned and flew back to the farm. I left the pendant with Dad. If this was how it was going to be, I didn't have anything left to say to either of them.
-0-
That night, I couldn't sleep. My throat still ached from where Dad had grabbed me. His reaction… it told me just how much this whole thing had shaken him.
I thought I'd been right. I thought I could make him listen. I was so sure I could stand my ground.
But I'd been wrong. I was weak. Pathetically weak.
I needed more power. More than what I had now. And if I couldn't rely on the pendant anymore, then I'd have to find it somewhere else.
Magic. Magic could close the gap. My Kryptonian powers had hit their limit for now, but magic… magic could give me what I needed.
But without access to the Light Manipulation tomes stored in the Pendant, I needed a teacher.
One person came to mind.
I grabbed my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I found the name I was looking for.
Raven.
-0-
The next day after school, I told Mom I was heading out to train with Robin and slipped away from the farm. Connor had already backed me up with the Team, covering my tracks so everything seemed airtight.
My destination was set: the Pacific. Specifically, the small island near Themiscyra. Apparently, men weren't allowed on Themiscyra itself, so this would have to do.
Honestly, I wasn't bothered by that. In fact, it was ideal. I wanted to keep this between Raven and me.
As I flew over the ocean, I passed through a shimmering field, and on the other side, Themiscyra appeared, bathed in sunlight, its majesty on full display.
Not far from the shores, I spotted a small, rocky island. I descended toward it, already spotting her figure waiting by the shore.
It had been a couple of weeks since I'd last seen her. And during that time, she'd changed.
No longer in a white bodysuit, she was dressed in a black leather top and skirt. The top had no sleeves.
Her purple hair was twisted in war braids, revealing the red gemstone on her forehead.
She exuded a dark beauty. Like a warrior mage. Themiscyra suited her.
"Hey," I called out, touching down before her.
She smiled upon seeing me, face lighting up with a little blush.
"Hey."
The ocean's rhythmic waves lapping at the shore filled the air, so different from the constant hum of the farm. There was something peaceful about it.
We were perched on a large rock, Raven sitting to my opposite. After some light banter, we got down to the principle topic.
Magic.
"It's all about focus," she explained, her voice soft yet sure. "Raw magic doesn't have any weight or substance. Only when the spell takes shape does it impose itself on reality."
In her palm, dark energy coiled, swirling until it formed a solid, inky black sphere.
"Touch it," she instructed, her gaze steady.
I hesitated for a second, then reached out, my finger brushing against the surface. It felt dense, almost rubbery, and cold to the touch.
"It's solid... and freezing."
"That's because it is," she said, her eyes glowing faintly. "Energy becomes matter, matter becomes energy. That's magic. The key is focus."
I couldn't help but notice how serious she looked, like a teacher in her element. It was... cute. I bit back the temptation to tease her for it.
"Alright, your turn. Create a ball."
"Aye-aye, Sensei." I gave a mock salute before closing my eyes.
The first step was sensing the magic inside me. After weeks of training, I could feel it clearly—the well of Light, warm and vibrant, sitting in my chest.
With a deep breath, I followed the patterns I'd learned from the Kryptonian Magic Tomes, guiding the energy toward my hand.
"It's working!" I grinned as light began to swirl, gathering in my palm—
Poof.
It vanished in a puff of smoke. Frustration surged, and I slammed my fist against the rock, cracking its surface.
"Why can't I get this right?!"
Raven watched me, her expression unreadable. She waited patiently for my outburst to fade before asking, in her usual calm tone, "Are you done?"
I nodded, feeling the weight of my own frustration settle. She sighed softly.
"This feels like it's about more than just magic. What's going on with you? I've never seen you this... off."
"I fought with my dad," I blurted out, surprised at how easily it slipped from my lips. Normally, I'd joke or brush it off, but with Raven, I didn't feel the need to hide anything. She never judged.
"Oh." She seemed unsure how to respond at first. "Uh... who won?"
I shot her a flat look, which made her smirk.
"You got your ass kicked, didn't you?"
I let out a defeated sigh. "Yeah. I didn't stand a chance. He's... insanely powerful."
"And that's why you've turned to magic?" she asked, her tone more thoughtful now.
"Maybe," I admitted, running a hand through my hair. "Look, Raven, it's not just about that. He's ignoring Connor, treating him like he doesn't exist. I have to do something."
A haunted look crossed her face before it disaapeared. Probably recalling Cadmus.
She nodded slowly, her voice softening. "Look, Jon, coming from someone with some serious 'Dad issues,' I get it. You don't have to agree with him on everything. Sometimes... you'll clash. And when you do, if you can't fix it, you move forward with your own beliefs."
She was right.
I knew now who the real enemy was. Lex Luthor.
And whether or not Dad agreed, I was going after him.
Even if Pa kept pretending Connor didn't exist, I wasn't doing this for him. I'd protect my little brother, no matter what.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein