Capítulo 216: The World Without A Boy Called Soren Hargreaves (Part 7)
"Soren… I don't deserve this from you… Soren… don't leave me…"
Batman silently watched him, the pair of azure eyes he had just seen still lingering in his mind.
…They were the clearest eyes he had ever seen in the world.
"He let you see the world through his eyes. Clark Kent, he loves this world, he loves everyone," Batman quietly conveyed Soren's last words to him.
He observed Kal-El's bent back and tightly clenched fists, which finally began to relax.
"I won't let you die easily. You will spend your remaining life atoning for the sins you've committed against humanity."
Before leaving the red sun prison, the Dark Knight told his friend and adversary this.
From that day on, Kal-El fell utterly silent.
Every day, he maintained the same position, kneeling with one knee bent, leaning against the wall of the red sun cell, his blue eyes gazing into the emptiness before him, as if there, he could see his lost love walking toward him from the depths of memory.
He would repeatedly run his fingers through the air, tracing Soren's face, sometimes smiling softly in the hallucination, gently calling out Soren's name.
When he missed Soren too much, he would reach out and tenderly touch his own eyes.
These were Soren's eyes… Each time he touched these eyes, it felt like a sharp knife piercing his decaying heart.
But the more it hurt, the more he couldn't bear to let go; it was only in that pain that he could taste a hint of Soren's continued existence.
With these eyes, he shed bloodied tears, hurriedly catching them, unwilling to let Soren's eyes weep.
When they had just fallen in love, he had felt joy that they both shared the same blue eyes.
At that time, Soren had sweetly cradled his face, seriously saying, "Your eyes are the most beautiful blue in the world."
At that moment, he ended their budding argument with a kiss, though what he couldn't voice was that only Soren's eyes were the most beautiful blue in his heart.
His Soren.
His treasure.
His angel.
His beloved.
His star.
His life was trapped in the thorny valley of fate, never again having the chance to embrace that star.
After countless days and years in the red sun prison, he finally closed his eyes and softly spoke to the air, "...I admit I was wrong, Soren, I was wrong."
Every step he took was a mistake; it had been wrong from the start.
Eventually, he walked down a path from which there was no return, never to go back to the way things were.
His stubbornness had driven everyone away, made the world tremble under his intimidation, caused countless lives to perish, and made Soren weep so painfully in his arms.
He was wrong…
But what good did it do to acknowledge his mistakes?
His Soren was already gone forever.
He had let Soren die in pain, had left Soren with only a pair of eyes.
…He had pushed his Soren off the cliff with his own hands.
Leaning against the wall, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes.
Just as Batman had said, he would spend his remaining life in atonement, endlessly reminiscing about Soren in the hell of memories.
He recalled every word they had exchanged since their first meeting, every expression of Soren's, every movement, transforming them into fragments of memory sealed in frames, sorted and neatly arranged in the invisible archive within his mind.
He would spend each day doing the same thing—reliving those fragmented memories of Soren.
Soren, sometimes crying, sometimes laughing, would appear before him with a look of surprise, calling out, "Clark."
At times, Clark would see a younger Soren, perhaps in his teenage years, standing by his side—so full of joy, like an angel, with those clear and brilliant blue eyes.
Mischievously, Soren would ask, "Did you miss me, Clark?"
Clark would look at him, nodding softly.
"I missed you too, Clark," Soren would smile in front of him. "Come back to me, won't you? Just come back and see me, please?"
Clark would respond, "When I return…"
But just as he finished saying those words, Soren would begin running away.
Clark would quickly reach out, trying to grab him, but his hand would only meet the cold surface of a glass wall.
…What he had been seeing was merely the reflection of those eyes on the glass.
Despair washed over him as he pressed his hands against the wall, desperately whispering Soren's name over and over.
But no one would ever answer him again.
Many years passed in the red sun prison.
One day, after the long and relentless operation of the red sun radiation emitter, it suddenly shut down.
—It was Cyborg, still on the run, who had finally managed to break through the prison's system and shut down the emitter.
The reinforced circular glass wall, specially designed to contain him, now appeared fragile.
With just the lightest touch, cracks began to spread across the glass.
He placed his hand against the surface, and the entire wall responded with a crisp shattering sound.
Snowflake-like patterns splintered across its surface before the wall crumbled into dust.
The prison alarm blared in an instant.
Clark's powers had fully returned.
He flew out from the circular base of the prison and landed in the hallway outside.
There, he stood quietly, waiting for two minutes until Batman hurriedly arrived.
Batman stopped in his tracks, locking eyes with Clark's blue gaze.
"You have one minute."
"One minute for what?" Clark asked.
Batman pressed his lips together, staring at him.
...It was only then that Clark realized Batman's lips hadn't moved.
The voice had come from within his skull.
—Of course, this was another of Batman's flawless precautions to prevent his escape.
Ant-Man, stationed around the clock in the prison, had minimized himself to atomic scale and had already entered Clark's cerebral cortex the moment he left the glass cage.
Estado de energía semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Piedra de
Poder