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‘The City of Tomorrow’ they said, yeah, sure.
He has to roll into the bumps, he has to act like the smog is getting to him, that the cracks on the sidewalk can actually make him stumble. He has to act through every second. He likes to think it’s so humbling, but he really is stumbling, his shoulder really is getting bumped, his body can’t feel it, but his soul does.
Metropolis is nothing like what it looked like from the sky.
Or from the papers, for that matter.
Ma and Pa were terrified, but he’d insisted, it had to be here, he had to do it here. The City of Tomorrow was the perfect place for a man who’d seen how beautiful that tomorrow can be. But now he wasn’t so sure, it was all so big, I mean, obviously, but he’d seen the impossible, the Hellenic spires, the Patch-Work Dream Ships, the Kaleidoscopic oceans. He’d seen a Legion of wonders, but this felt far more suffocating than any of that.
He can hear their heartbeats, a mile a minute on the I-95, never stopping, never even looking side to side. Brainy never wanted to talk about it, his purpose, his legacy, but he’d heard the soundbites, the ever-confident voice of hope guiding a people towards a better tomorrow. How was he going to do that? Where was he going to even start?
He looked up, gawking at the skyscrapers trying their damndest to touch the heavens, at the golden city he’d chosen to settle in, searching for answers in this strange new land, maybe, maybe he could do this, maybe Su-
𝗕𝗨𝗠𝗣
❝ Oohf! ❞
He smiles, kneeling down to help pick up her purse, she responds by pepper-spraying him in the face, he blinks, remembering he has to be human.
❝ AGH! OH MY GOSH! IT BURNS! WHY DID YOU- WUH~ ❞
She sneers, snatching her purse back.
❝ You were tryn’ to steal my purse! ❞
❝ I wasn’t I swear, ma’am. . . gosh. . . I was just looking up, sorry for being so clu- ❞
❝ Looking up? You must not be from around here. ❞
He cocks his head, blue irises, ones that should be red right now, staring straight at her.
❝ What does that mean? ❞
As she walks away, he stops wiping his eyes. If somebody asks, and they won’t, he’ll just say the glasses blocked most of it.
If that was how the locals acted, he couldn’t fathom what the 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐓 would be like. When he stepped inside, he actually had to stop for a moment, hands gripping the nearest wall as the buzzing noises flared in his ears. He breathed a pattern Ma had taught him, trying to hone in on something, anything to distract from the bustling of the building.
And it’s here that the grief finally takes him, whenever his senses were overwhelmed he’d just hone in on Pa’s heartbeat, but he’s not here anymore, that grief is what finally thrust him into Metropolis, so he had to pull it together, for them, for tomorrow
He can do this.
❝ 𝙸𝚃'𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝚆𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙶 𝙸𝙵 𝙸𝚃'𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚃𝙷! ❞
His head snaps to the side. It sounds like someone's in danger, or at least about to be.
❝ 𝐈'𝐌 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐈𝐒, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐒. ❞
He steps inside the room, and a man, who he's just now recognizing to be Perry White, shoots up, seeming eager to change the subject.
❝ 𝐀𝐇, 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐄, 𝐂𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐀? ❞
❝ Mr. White! It's an honor to meet you sir. And you must be Lois Lane, ❞
❝ 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖? 𝙷𝚞𝚑. . . ❞
His brow raises, and the most innocent half smile stretches across his face.
❝ Is something wrong, Ms. Lane. . .? ❞
❝ 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝, 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛. ❞
She looks him over for a moment before turning away. Whew.
❝𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐉𝐎𝐁 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄, 𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃. ❞
❝ Oh-. ❞
❝ 𝙾𝚑 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢. ❞
❝ 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐔𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐄. ❞
❝ 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚜? ❞
❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐈𝐒! ❞
❝ 𝙰𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.❞
There's a chuff of air from Lois and then a short lived stare off. It feels like a bomb's about to go off, until it doesn't, instead Clark is dragged by his collar out of the room. Is this how tomorrow starts? Getting dragged along by this lady you just met and are somehow already in love with? Why yes, of course.
He loves this, he doesn’t think he can love something more, the look in their eyes, the shock, that clicks of synapses in their brains that he’s slowly recognizing as fear. And fear is what he is to them, to his enemies, the demagogues, the colonizers, the imperialists, the wealth-hoarders, the warmongers. Fear is what the news is trying and failing to portray him as. But the people know, they may not say it, but in those quiet gazes between themselves, in what they chose to do to one another, they can feel it, not fear, but hope.
He hears their voices, their self-assured malice, their prejudice so freely spoken in their private circles, their rationalization, it disgusts him, he can’t stand by, his body won’t let him, his soul won’t, the muscles in his body wring taunt, coiled like springs, springs from Krypton, he leaps.
The city shrinks, and shrinks, wind blowing in his hair as he soars, he’s been working on his aim, and hopefully he doesn’t fall through the floor, again, a flight ring would be perfect right about now, but he doesn’t want it, he wants to do this the old fashioned way, in a single bound.
𝐊𝐀-𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐌
They can’t see it, but their phones have been melted, landline too, the guns of their bodyguards rendered into useless hunks of metal. They’re alone, just as alone as the people they’ve taken advantage of for more pennies on the dime, just as alone as the residents of Suicide Slum, a part of Metropolis they’ve rendered unlivable.
As the dust settles, they see it, a red ‘S’ set against the yellow of the stars.
❝ Rats. Rats with money. ❞ He rises up, shoulders lax and eyes glowing. ❝ And rats with guns. ❞ He smirks, like there's some camera lurking around and he’s smiling for it and not them, like there's some inside joke they’re just not in on. ❝ I’m your worst nightmare. ❞
It takes exactly ten minutes for the authorities to arrive at the roof. It took thirty for them to make it to the double homicide last week, forty for the domestic abuse case, twenty-five for the missing persons report, and two hours for the wellness check.
It’s funny how that works.
❝ Huh. Looks like the pigs get here quick when their troughs are at risk. ❞
He speaks to the man he’s holding over the edge, he’s fainted twice now, it’s like his body doesn’t even know how to handle this level of stress. He’s disgusted, but he has other priorities now, He hears the negotiator's plea, they’ve never sounded this urgent before, never this caring. He projects his voice, and revels in the shock that runs through them, with all this steel pointed at him, they must’ve thought he’d sound afraid.
❝ I’ll put him down. . . Just as soon as he makes a full confession. To someone who still believes the law works the same for rich and poor alike. ❞
They don’t answer at first, they’re probably thinking of lying, but some primal part of them knows that won’t work, so they go back to threatening, aiming their guns at his head. He raises a brow, looking up at the rat expectantly.
❝ Still won’t talk? Okay. See you boys on the ground. ❞
He can hear their hearts drop almost simultaneously as he lets himself fall off, careening like a bullet, he lets the rat free-fall for a while before catching him. It sounds like a guns gone off when they land, the sound yanking the rat back into consciousness.
He’s washed in light, in camera flashes, reporters silent and waiting, waiting to hear if this strange visitor is here to kill them all. But one of them slices through, waltzing right up to the rat with a microphone in hand, 𝙻𝙾𝙸𝚂 𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙴 He grabs the rat by the collar, holding him up for all the see, finally he speaks, his sniveling voice barely above a whisper.
❝ ᴵ’ᵐ ᵍᵘⁱˡᵗʸ! ᵂʰᵃᵗ’ᵈᵘʸᵃ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ?! ᴵ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ⁱˡˡᵉᵍᵃˡ ᶜʰᵉᵃᵖ ˡᵃᵇᵒᵘʳ. . . ᴵ ᵇʳⁱᵇᵉᵈ ᶜⁱᵗʸ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜⁱᵃˡˢ. . . ᴵ ˡⁱᵉᵈ. . . ᴵ ˡⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ. ❞
He finally drops him, and only then do the other reporters decide it's safe to start flooding in.
❝ You know the deal, Metropolis. Treat people right or expect a visit from me. ❞
❝ 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞? ❞
He turns to Lois, smiling.
❝ A friend. ❞
He feels the punches, he feels the concrete digging into his knees, the cracked ribs and the internal bleeding. It’s not the first time, but maybe the worst. But it’s still different, it’s more than human pain, he feels the nausea, the rot stabbing into his brain, the atrophy of his muscles, he feels poisoned, he feels Kryptonite.
People despise what they can’t understand. And Luthor capitalized on that.
They love him, he’s the kind of person you just can’t help but love, he kisses babies, he’s made hundreds of jobs, he’s the richest man in the city, and probably the world. But Clark? Clark despises him. The murdering immoral billionaire who’s won the hearts and minds of Metropolis, who’s fooled them into believing he isn’t a pathetic excuse for a man. Who’s got them fighting each other, fighting Clark, so they’re too busy to fight against their oppressors.
He doesn’t just hate him because of what he’s done to this city, he hates him because he knows him better than anyone alive, and maybe, probably, Lex knows Clark just as well. But they aren’t in Kansas anymore, they aren’t brothers anymore. He wanted to believe he could get through to him, but the titanium bashing into his sternum suggests otherwise.
❝ C’ɱσɳ Bιɠ Bʅυҽ. Sƚαɳԃ Uρ. ❞
He musters up whatever strength he has left, and by golly, it’s a lot.
❝ Sit down. ❞
𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐌
He feels the pain subsiding, if only slightly, he needs to wrap this up quickly, or else. A soldier comes to help Metallo, the army’s here, Lois’ father has sicked them on him, everyone’s against him it seems, but Corben’s ego is far too big, he swats the man away, something about this being his fight, Clark wouldn’t know, his hearing isn’t super yet. He climbs out of the crater, vision hazy, blood pouring out of his nose. He can do this, just pull it together.
❝ John. . . people are going to die if I don’t get there to save them. You must know this is wrong. Luthor’s using you. ❞
❝ Lυƚԋσɾ ʂҽҽʂ’ ƚԋҽ ƚɾυƚԋ! Yσυ’ɾҽ αɳ αʅιҽɳ, α ƚԋɾҽαƚ ƚσ συɾ ɳαƚισɳ. Yσυ ƈσυʅԃ ƈԋαɳɠҽ ҽʋҽɾყƚԋιɳɠ! Aɳԃ Ⴆყ ƚԋҽ ƚιɱҽ ɯҽ’ɾҽ ԃσɳҽ, ƚԋҽ σɳʅყ ‘Sυρҽɾɱαɳ’ Mҽƚɾσρσʅιʂ ɯιʅʅ ɯαɳƚ ιʂ ɱҽ. ❞
He can feel his skin boiling as John gets closer, it’s not just the kryptonite, it’s the excuses, the posturing, the empty promises. He starts chuckling, Luthor knows that if this fails his reputation is at risk, so his hatred must outweigh his caution.
❝ Iʂ ʂσɱҽƚԋιɳɠ ϝυɳɳყ? ❞
Clark forces himself up, his billowing cape hiding the hand that's fumbling behind him, searching.
❝ Y’know, Corben? Yeah. There’s something real funny. ❞
Luthor’s been studying him since he was Superboy, and frankly, Clark was always too forthcoming during those days, so when Superman appeared, Lex dropped a quarter of a million just to line the cities sewers with lead. That included the manhole covers, like the one Clark had his hands on right now, fingers sinking in like a bowling ball.
❝ What’s funny. . . is that you don’t know the first thing about being SUPERMAN. ❞
𝐓𝐇𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐌
He launches the cover like a frisbee, right at the exposed chunk of his homeworld, and at 621.5 degree fahrenheit welds it onto him. He’s got an edge, but he’s still weak, and there’s still Kryptonite coursing through Corben’s veins, it’s now or never.
Every window within a mile shatters as he flies into Metallo, slamming him into the pavement, being this close, it feels like he’s about to pass out, but he doesn't; he grits his teeth and goes to work.
❝ It’s not about where you’re from. ❞
𝐊𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐊
❝ Or what powers you have. ❞
𝐊𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐊
❝ Or what you wear on your chest. ❞
𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐌
❝ It’s about what you DO. It’s about. . . ACTION. ❞
He has to roll into the bumps, he has to act like the smog is getting to him, that the cracks on the sidewalk can actually make him stumble. He has to act through every second. But it’s getting easier, and sometimes, on those rare forgettable occasions, he can swear he does feel it. It’s incredible really, how much this city changed him.
Metropolis is nothing like what it looked like from the sky.
Or from the papers, for that matter.
Yes, he’d seen wonders, but frankly? He thinks the Legion was wrong about him, he thinks those soundbytes we’re a little off, because it was never just hope in his voice, it was action. It was the will to act no matter the consequences, it was a righteous fury he’d only ever heard of in storybooks, he doesn’t know if he trusts himself with that, he doesn’t know if he ever will.
But everyday, no matter what, he’ll try. And just maybe that’ll be enough.
Jimmy bought the excuse well enough, and Lois, good lord, at this point Clark is starting to wonder if she knows and is just toying with him. But duty calls, and Superman answers.
𝗕𝗨𝗠𝗣
❝ 𝕆𝕠𝕙𝕗! ❞
The boy smiles, kneeling down to help pick up her purse, she lets him, staring down with a certain knowing look at gets under his skin.
❝ Oh it’s fine, sonny, you were looking up weren’t you? ❞
❝ 𝕎𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝕒𝕙, 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕙, 𝕚𝕤𝕟'𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕖'𝕤 𝕕𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕒𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤? ❞
❝ Seems about that way, huh? Ever since he came in, folks have gotten a little kinder. I guess we’re all trying to keep up. ❞
❝ ℍ𝕒𝕙, 𝕀'𝕞 𝕒 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕕, 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕔𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕘𝕟, 𝕀 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕'𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕙𝕖'𝕕 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕚𝕥 𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕦𝕤. ❞
❝ 𝐿𝒪𝒪𝒦! 𝒰𝒫 𝐼𝒩 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝒮𝒦𝒴 ❞
❝ 𝕀𝕋'𝕊 𝔸 𝔹𝕀ℝ𝔻 ❞
❝ 𝘐𝘛'𝘚 𝘈 𝘗𝘓𝘈𝘕𝘌 ❞
❝ 𝐍𝐎, 𝐈𝐓'𝐒- ❞
