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“And if history has proven anything,” she started toward him, “evolution will always win,” Faora hissed in a haughty tone. Disdain shined through her warrior steel gaze; Clark hesitated, the barest of moments. The worriment that she was right edged his mind. Over and over, he had fallen to her hand and to Zod’s. His actions seemed to have the barest of effects on them; the near craters that he picked himself up from, proved so. But what could he do? The damage was extensive and kept growing: each step, each hit, every movement was another attack on the city.
He couldn’t let them go on; he had to stop them, no matter the cost. Gritting his teeth, he pressed his foot to the ground, ready to push forward.
” – Evolution, sweet cheeks?” The feminine robotic voice stopped him right in his tracks; Faora froze as well, eyes latched to something over Clark’s shoulder. “I’m as evolved as they get.”
He turned and, for the first time in years, his senses for overloaded. He didn’t understand what he was looking at. The metal flashed, silver and red, but it buzzed with the amount of technology that had been poured into it. He could hear the male voice that spoke inside, secret to the armor’s wearer. And under the helmet, he could see her: pursed lips and excited blue eyes with hair matted to her forehead.
“Not enough,” Faora’s voice pierced through the haze and the suit shot up. He heard the whirl and watched as blue light shot from the palms. And he knew: Iron Woman.
Clark smiled as he looked back at Faora, picking herself up off the ground. He could feel her surprise and that was all he needed. “Thanks for coming,” he said.
“Thanks for destroying my city,” Iron Woman said as she moved to his side.