Capítulo 2: New Beginnings
Six years after the Day of Doom.
It has been six years since the invasion, a scar etched deeply in the heart of humankind, likely not to be erased by time even after decades. In the post-war world, a federal government was established. Despite their best efforts to tell the populace of their soldiers' valiant efforts and the government's unwavering hope, which supposedly led to this hard-earned victory, those in the know understood these to be fabrications. There was no victory; the enemy's leader inexplicably fell, and the unstoppable alien army retreated from Earth.
It seemed the age of superheroes had come to an end as well. With the early stages of the alien invasion, the Justice League, long the bastion of Earth's defense, vanished. Rumors spread of their valiant struggle, but in the end, they had fallen, and most survivors scoffed at their failure. Lex Luthor, CEO of LexCorp and prominent philanthropist in post-disaster reconstruction, boldly stated it was foolish for humanity to entrust its fate to such super-beings, proclaiming it was time for humans to take control of their own destiny.
Luthor's speeches resonated, marking the end of the superhero era and the dawn of a new epoch for humanity. Any remaining heroes went into hiding, becoming urban legends and whispers in the dark, carrying on their work unseen by the public eye.
"When we needed them most, the superheroes abandoned us; we must learn to fend for ourselves," wrote a journalist, echoing the sentiment of the times.
Our protagonist, an unfortunate soul reborn into a world post-apocalypse, now lounged comfortably in a sunlit living room, legs propped up as he watched television.
Jay Reynolds, eighteen years old—at least that's what his new identification said. In truth, he knew neither his real name nor age in this world. After the Day of Doom, when the orphanage took him in and asked for his details, he concocted a story. With an abundance of orphans created by the war, no one bothered to verify his tale.
He had tested his superpowers, confirming his suspicions—he indeed possessed most of Superman's abilities, though to a limited extent and lacking compared to the original. He speculated that his age might play a role. He quickly realized he'd been transported to a parallel universe based on DC Comics, which, although familiar to him, didn't precisely fit any version he knew.
He naturally wondered if he might be a Kryptonian like Superman, but with no memory of his body's origins, that remained a mystery.
He'd lived in the orphanage for barely six months before meeting his new parents—the Reynolds. His surname was changed to Reynolds after being adopted. Mr. Charles Reynolds, an editor at the famed Metropolis paper, The Daily Planet, and Mrs. Jane Reynolds, a nurse at Metropolis Hospital, became his new family. Jay vividly remembered the warmth of the office on adoption day, sitting on a wooden chair as the Reynolds couple sat across from him, divided only by a coffee table.
The most memorable part was Mr. Reynolds's fascination with the orphanage director's lighter shaped like a revolver, which ignited flames with the pull of a trigger. He played with it throughout the meeting, a child with a new toy.
"Focus!" Mrs. Reynolds chided. "We're not here to buy you a lighter."
Mr. Reynolds chuckled apologetically, setting the lighter down reluctantly.
Returning their attention to Jay, Mrs. Reynolds coaxed with a kind smile, "Relax, Jay, tell us about yourself."
"What about?" Jay scratched his head.
"Your hobbies, you must have some?"
"Reading? I like to read all sorts of books," Jay replied with a sunny smile. "Sometimes, I try writing articles about things that interest me. I like tidiness and fixing things... nothing special, really."
Mrs. Reynolds beamed with satisfaction, as if she found the perfect outfit while shopping. "Wonderful! You'll fit right into our family. If you're willing, we'd be delighted to become your foster parents."
"And you might even get your own computer," Mr. Reynolds chimed in, his hand subconsciously returning to the lighter.
Before Jay could respond, Mrs. Reynolds snapped, "Hey! We just redid the house, remember the twenty-year mortgage?"
Deflated, Mr. Reynolds conceded, muttering, "But, it's just a computer, shouldn't be too much of a burden."
"Right? Because you never worry about our expenses!" Mrs. Reynolds raised her voice, and Jay almost laughed, imagining her dragging his ear in a fit.
Timely, Jay interjected, "No worries, I don't need a computer yet. A home is all I need."
Mrs. Reynolds's heart melted, momentarily sparing her husband. "See, such a thoughtful child. As long as you're willing, you're part of our family now, okay?"
Jay nodded vigorously, relieved to escape life among a crowd of ten-year-olds.
"Perfect!" Mrs. Reynolds stood up, "Pack your things, we'll handle the paperwork, and then you can move into your new home!"
Mr. Reynolds stood, still enamored with the revolver lighter, taking one last drag before leaving it behind with a sigh, "I've got to get one of these..."
The orphanage processed everything swiftly, and by the afternoon, Jay was settling into his new home. Mrs. Reynolds treated him kindly that first day, offering snacks and having Mr. Reynolds tidy the bedroom.
As time passed, such privileges became a memory.
Mrs. Reynolds, apron-clad, broom in hand, stormed into the living room like a warrior ready for battle. She snatched the newspaper from Mr. Reynolds and clicked off the TV, announcing, "Up everyone! No sitting around, it's cleaning time!"
Mr. Reynolds, facing his energetic wife, complained, "Again? We just did a big clean..."
"When? A week ago?" countered Mrs. Reynolds, eyebrow raised.
"Just a week!" Mr. Reynolds sought Jay's supportive gaze, protesting, "No one cleans every week!"
"Less talk, more work!" Mrs. Reynolds tossed the broom to her husband, who grumbled but complied, his courage only going so far.
Jay received a cloth, "Help out, Jay. Your room, the study, the balcony windows and cabinets—I want them spotless."
"Sir, yes, sir!" Jay saluted, mimicking a soldier from TV.
They split up. Mrs. Reynolds scrubbed mops in the bathroom, the water audible throughout. Mr. Reynolds grumbled as he swept. Jay, certain he was unobserved, whizzed through his chores at super-speed, finishing in seconds, and settled down with a magazine, the glass and cabinets gleaming.
In a few minutes, he might even help Mr. Reynolds with his share.
Just then, a buzz from the living room phone. Jay picked it up, sliding to Lois's message—a high school classmate inviting him to a weekend party with classmates and club friends.
Instinctively, Jay began to decline, but Mr. Reynolds peeked over, "Who? A classmate?"
"Yeah, a party invitation," Jay typed a refusal, "but I won't go."
"Why not?" Mr. Reynolds asked, "High school parties are important—you've never attended one. You'll regret missing out. Remember, I met a fine girl at a party once..."
"But not Mom, right?" Jay interjected.
"True," Mr. Reynolds deflated, "If only I knew better then... I would've..."
"What then?"
Mrs. Reynolds's ominous tone loomed, and Mr. Reynolds quickly corrected, "The point is, socializing is vital in high school! You must..."
"Alright, alright," Jay chuckled, "I'll go."
And with that, Jay's mundane life took a turn towards an unexpected social foray.
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