Kapitel 254: A Day as Superman
…In the end, he wouldn't be able to guarantee that Soren would have the perfect, happy life he deserved.
"I'm going to take a shower, get rid of this blood," he said, noticing how Soren was avoiding his gaze and swiftly changed the subject.
Soren nodded absentmindedly, watching him disappear into the bathroom.
Clark quickly washed away the scent of blood, and after finishing his shower, he changed into casual clothes. Then, he guided Soren to take a bath as well.
Since Soren hadn't brought any spare clothes, after his shower, he had no choice but to wear one of Clark's oversized t-shirts. He sat on the bed, his bare legs dangling, feeling a bit chilly. With a playful grin, he patted the pillow beside him and called out, "Come over here! Let's sleep together and bond a little!"
Clark was busy fixing the broken Switch from Soren's bag. As he used his x-ray vision to study the internal structure of the gaming console, he replied, "If you're tired, go ahead and sleep, darling. I'll have this fixed in no time."
"Why bother fixing it? We can just buy a new one," Soren said nonchalantly.
—As a wealthy young man from Manhattan's Upper East Side, Soren couldn't quite understand why anyone would bother repairing electronics instead of just replacing them.
Clark chuckled softly. He adjusted his heat vision to be as precise as a laser scalpel, carefully re-soldering the loose components inside the Switch. Then, he used the heat to melt and repair the cracked outer shell, piecing it back together seamlessly.
"That should do it," he said, handing the console back to Soren. "See if it works now."
"You actually fixed it!" Soren exclaimed in surprise, taking the game console and turning it on. It powered up just like new, and the previously broken shell now looked flawless, with hardly any visible cracks. Soren couldn't help but admire it, clicking his tongue in amazement. "How are you so good at everything? You're even a pro at fixing game consoles!"
Clark smiled softly and sat beside him. "If you had my abilities, you'd be even more amazing than I am."
"Me?" Soren pointed at himself. "Yeah right, I can't even fly."
He set the game console aside, resting his chin on his hand, and curiously asked Clark, "What's it like to fly? Does it feel like bungee jumping? Were you scared the first time you flew?"
Clark lay down, and since the single bed was narrow, he wrapped Soren in his arms. After thinking for a moment, he said, "Tomorrow, I'll take you somewhere."
"Where?" Soren asked.
"...It's a secret for now. I want to surprise you," Clark replied.
Soren was dying of curiosity, but he was also eager for the surprise Clark mentioned. He forced himself to stop asking, despite the impatience gnawing at him.
Lying on the bed, Soren fidgeted a bit before finding a hardcover book under the pillow. He pulled it out and saw it was Plato's <<Phaedrus>>.
"Are you reading this?" he asked Clark.
Clark took the book, kissed Soren lightly, and chuckled softly in his ear. "This used to be your favorite book."
"Impossible," Soren said firmly. "There's no way I would like reading Plato. That's totally your style. I don't like reading books—I only like comics!"
"It's true," Clark said as he opened the book and flipped to a random chapter. "The only way you'd fall asleep quickly is when I read this to you."
"How does that mean I like it?" Soren protested. "Doesn't that just mean the book is boring?"
Clark smiled, pulling Soren closer with one arm while holding the book with the other. "It's not boring, darling," he said gently. "This book is about how we should love someone."
His voice was deep and hoarse yet magnetic, like a riverbed flowing with hidden currents. He began to read softly from the story of Socrates in the book: "Once, there was a handsome boy, or rather a beautiful youth, loved by many, among whom one was particularly cunning. Although he loved this beautiful youth just like the others, he intentionally made the youth believe that he did not love him…"
"…In general, those in love always wish to make the beloved completely ignorant and utterly dependent on the one who loves them. In this way, they ensure that they can attain the greatest pleasure, which at the same time means the greatest harm to the one being loved…"
Soren had begun to doze off even as Clark read a few more lines. Eventually, he became so sleepy that he could barely keep his eyes open. Suddenly, as if a light had flickered back on, he raised his voice and exclaimed, "But that's wrong!"
"…You're right; it is indeed thoroughly wrong," Clark replied softly, his blue eyes tenderly watching Soren's gradually sleeping face.
He remembered everything that had been erased by time—the demise of Metropolis, the blood in the courtroom, the global broadcast signal, the countless stars in the universe, a heart painted on a watchtower, withered love, the sun at Tokyo Tower, the cedar forests of Alaska, the heavy rain in Washington, and the tears in the blue eyes of a baby. He thought of many things, of much love.
He had once made the same fundamental mistake. He loved the Earth but wanted to trap it in a glass bottle. He loved his stars yet sought to possess them by destroying everything around him.
It was the most painful nightmare he had ever experienced, but at the end of the dream, he still found himself in the depths of the universe, reclaiming a bright star.
Clark turned the page in the book and read aloud: "Phaedrus, the soul itself has a kind of divine power, and we must never understand love as conquest…"
Soren was completely asleep.
He lay in Clark's embrace, his golden eyelashes resembling soft feathers, his expression peaceful and serene.
Clark closed the book and quietly watched him, keeping his gaze fixed on Soren until dawn broke.
The next morning, Clark took Soren to the top of the tallest skyscraper in Metropolis. They felt as if they were sitting on a cloud, with Soren excitedly perched in Clark's lap, his legs dangling down in the open air as if he were stepping on a hundred-meter-high breeze.
Clark finally fulfilled his wish to sit in this place and have breakfast with his Soren. Metropolis unfolded the curtain of a new day in front of his eyes, calm and serene, while his lover cheerfully drank milk in his arms.
He repeatedly kissed Soren's hair, gently wiping away the circle of white milk that clung to his lips. They exchanged a kiss in the soft morning light, Soren's mouth full of the sweet aroma of milk, reminiscent of a freshly made block of cheese.
Then he took Soren to the Fortress of Solitude.
On this day, it did not snow in the Arctic.
He showed Soren around the alien zoo in the Fortress, fed cosmic hunting hounds, and gifted him a bouquet of fresh nightingale roses freshly picked from Centaurus.
Soren felt thrilled and curious, taking in the sights and even encountering a talking intelligent robot.
The little robot rolled forward on its treads, cheerfully repeating, "Master Soren is back! Master Soren is back!"
He burst into laughter, reaching out to pat the little robot's head, and asked, "What's your name?"
The little robot paused for a moment, then raised its mechanical arms and waved: "My name is 9-9, Master Soren. 9-9 is a medical robot."
Clark stood by, watching them, his gaze resting on Soren's joyful face. In that moment, he seemed to see a breezy afternoon on September 9, 2005, when a golden-haired little angel peeked down from the stairs, his eyes sparkling with wonder.
Soren whispered to him, "Hi, Clark."
Clark took out a beautifully wrapped blue gift box and handed it to Soren. "Open it and see; this is a gift I prepared for you."
"What is it? What is it?" Soren eagerly accepted the gift box, untied the golden ribbon, and exclaimed, "What did you get me?"
He lifted the lid of the gift box and pulled out a vial containing a golden substance.
The liquid inside the vial resembled flowing sunlight, shimmering with countless stars. Soren held the vial, looking puzzled. "What is this?"
"This is a genetic enhancer. It contains a copy of my six hundred thousand DNA sequences. If you drink it, you'll be able to replicate my superpowers for twenty-four hours. You can be Superman for a day, babe," Clark explained.
Soren gasped in disbelief, "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! I can become Superman?? Oh my gosh, I I I can fly soon?!"
"Why don't you try drinking it first?" Clark said with a smile.
He helped Soren twist open the vial, and Soren gulped down the entire contents in one go. After taking a deep breath, he anxiously awaited the manifestation of superpowers within him.
Clark then magically produced a blue uniform, complete with a red cape and boots, from behind his back.
"And this too, it's for you—a Kryptonian suit. Put it on, let me see, babe."
Soren donned the iconic Superman outfit, adjusting the red cape on his shoulders awkwardly as he said, "Why do I feel like this looks… a bit strange?"
"It's not strange," Clark replied, surveying him with a smile. "You look fantastic; trust me."
Soren wore the Kryptonian diplomatic uniform, a blue high-necked bodysuit that accentuated his tall, slender figure. The red cape flowed behind him, and his neat little red boots highlighted the delicate curve of his ankles, making him look like a carefree Kryptonian boy who had grown up on a Krypton that had yet to be destroyed.
Clark helped Soren style his hair, smoothing the golden curls and tying them neatly at the back. He remembered how Soren used to look at the distant star base—there, on the battlefield, Soren had been brave and resolute, exuding a captivating charm that deeply enchanted him.
Soren shyly played with the strands of hair that fell over his forehead and, suppressing his excitement, quietly told Clark, "I can hear the whales singing in the icy ocean outside, Clark, and the calls of the penguins!"
"As long as you listen carefully, Soren, and focus your attention," Clark patiently guided him, "you can hear even farther and more beautiful sounds… You can hear the cries of a little monkey in the Amazon jungle, the sound of the wind blowing through the Himalayas, the sound of flowers blooming, and anything else you wish to hear."
Following his instructions, Soren quietly closed his eyes. In an instant, it felt as if he had arrived at a mighty, flowing river. He stood in the middle of the riverbed, with countless splashes of water hitting him from every direction, each current rushing forward incessantly. He gently leaned down, dipped his fingertip into a droplet of the clearest water, and then distinctly heard the rustling sound of endless corn leaves in the fields of Smallville.
The gentle breeze wove through the corn leaves, soothing his confused and weary soul, bringing unparalleled comfort and tranquility.
"—I heard it, Clark! I can hear it!" he exclaimed, suddenly standing up, his excitement palpable as he spoke to Clark.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein