The lazy days of early childhood on the Kent farm unfolded in a comforting rhythm. I learned to walk, my wobbly steps often guided by Jonathan's surprisingly patient hand or Lois's encouraging voice. My vocabulary expanded beyond "Mama" and "Dada" to include a growing list of farm animal noises and simple words. I explored the world with the boundless curiosity of a toddler, every new sight and sound a source of fascination.
Yet, beneath the surface of this seemingly ordinary development, the echoes of my past life persisted. The knowledge of the Arrowverse timeline, the understanding of the powers and vulnerabilities inherent in my Kryptonian heritage – these were constant companions, silent observers of my new reality.
I watched Clark closely, a keen observer of his subtle displays of superhuman abilities. The almost imperceptible speed when he moved quickly across the yard, the way he effortlessly lifted heavy machinery, the faint shimmer that sometimes danced around him when he was deep in thought – these were the clues I pieced together, confirming the reality of his powers.
Lois, too, possessed a sharp intellect and an unwavering courage that I recognized from the show. Her journalistic instincts were always at play, her mind constantly analyzing and questioning the world around her. I often caught her studying me with an intensity that went beyond simple maternal observation, as if she sensed something… different.
Jonathan, now a more familiar presence in my life, was navigating the typical challenges of adolescence. School, friendships, and the burgeoning awareness of the opposite sex occupied much of his attention. He was protective of me in his own teenage way, occasionally intervening when I was about to stumble into trouble or offering a gruff word of comfort when I was upset.
The farm itself became my playground. I chased chickens, much to their indignant squawking, explored the dusty corners of the barn, and spent hours gazing up at the vast expanse of the sky, a silent yearning for the ability to soar among the clouds.
One crisp autumn afternoon 5 years after my reincarnation, I was playing near the barn, stacking a precarious tower of smooth, grey stones. The sun was warm on my face, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves in the nearby trees. I was deeply engrossed in my task, my brow furrowed in concentration as I carefully placed the final stone.
Suddenly, a small, bright red ladybug landed on my hand. Its delicate legs tickled my skin, and I focused my gaze on its intricate patterns, the tiny black spots against its vibrant red shell.
As I stared at the ladybug, a strange sensation began to build behind my eyes. It wasn't pain, but a growing warmth, an internal pressure that felt… unusual. I blinked, trying to dispel the feeling, but it intensified.
The world around me seemed to sharpen, the colors becoming more vivid. The red of the ladybug on my hand seemed to pulse with an almost incandescent glow. And then, from somewhere deep within me, a beam of intense heat erupted from my eyes, striking the stone tower I had so carefully constructed.
The stones exploded in a shower of dust and fragments, the sudden burst of energy startling me. The ladybug, thankfully, had flown away just moments before.
I blinked again, my heart pounding in my chest. The warmth behind my eyes subsided, replaced by a sense of shock and disbelief. Had I… had I just done that?
I looked at the scattered stones, the ground slightly scorched where the beam had struck. There was no doubt in my mind. That intense burst of heat, that destructive force, had come from me.
My first Kryptonian power. Heat vision.
A wave of conflicting emotions washed over me. Excitement, fear, confusion, and a strange sense of… inevitability. I had always known this day would come, on some intellectual level. But to experience it firsthand, to feel that raw power surge from within me, was something entirely different.
I looked around, suddenly aware of my surroundings in a new way. The dry grass, the wooden walls of the barn, the distant trees – everything seemed vulnerable, susceptible to the uncontrolled energy that had just manifested within me.
I knew, instinctively, that this was something I couldn't explain, not yet. Not until I understood it myself.
I spent the rest of the afternoon in a state of bewildered contemplation, replaying the moment over and over in my mind. The warmth, the pressure, the sudden release of energy. It had been so… effortless, so natural.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the farm, I made my way back to the house, my mind racing. I needed to understand this, to learn how to control it. But how could I, a child who still struggled to tie his own shoes, possibly master a power capable of melting steel?
That evening at dinner, I was unusually quiet, my thoughts consumed by my newfound ability. Lois and Clark exchanged concerned glances, sensing my unease.
"Everything alright, sweetie?" Lois asked, her voice gentle.
I mumbled an affirmative, avoiding their eyes. I knew I couldn't tell them yet. Not until I had a better grasp of what had happened.
Over the next few days, I experimented in secret. When I was alone in the fields, I would focus my gaze on small objects – fallen leaves, stray pebbles – trying to replicate the sensation, to summon the heat vision again.
It was erratic at first. Sometimes, nothing would happen. Other times, I would feel the familiar warmth building behind my eyes, but the energy would dissipate before I could release it. It was like trying to tune a radio to a specific frequency, the signal fluctuating and unclear.
But slowly, gradually, I began to gain a measure of control. I learned to focus my gaze, to channel the energy, to release it in short, controlled bursts. I practiced on inanimate objects, carefully aiming at rocks and pieces of wood, marveling at the way the intense heat could scorch and even melt them.
The power was intoxicating, a tangible manifestation of my extraordinary heritage. But it was also terrifying, a reminder of the immense responsibility that came with being the son of Superman.
I knew I couldn't keep this a secret forever. Sooner or later, Lois and Clark would notice something. And I knew they would want to understand.
One afternoon, I found Clark working in the barn, repairing a piece of farm equipment. The rhythmic clang of his hammer echoed through the large space. I hesitated at the entrance, my heart pounding in my chest.
Taking a deep breath, I walked towards him. "Dad?" I said, my voice small.
Clark stopped hammering and turned, a warm smile on his face. "Hey, buddy. What's up?"
I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt, my gaze fixed on the dusty floor. "I… I did something."
Clark's smile faded slightly, replaced by an expression of gentle concern. "What is it?"
I looked up at him, my eyes filled with a mixture of fear and excitement. "I… I have powers. Like you."
Clark's eyebrows rose slightly, but there was no surprise in his expression, only a quiet understanding. He knelt down, placing his large hands on my shoulders.
"Show me," he said, his voice calm and reassuring.
I took another deep breath and focused my gaze on a pile of scrap metal in the corner of the barn. The familiar warmth built behind my eyes, and this time, I didn't hesitate. Two thin beams of intense red light erupted from my eyes, striking the metal with a sizzling hiss. The metal began to glow, then soften, and finally melt, forming a small puddle of molten liquid.
Clark watched in silence, his expression thoughtful. When the heat vision subsided, he simply nodded.
"I knew it was only a matter of time," he said, his voice low.
He stood up and looked at me, his blue eyes filled with a mixture of pride and concern. "We'll figure this out, Jake. Together. Just like we always do."
The relief that washed over me was immense. I had told him, and he wasn't angry or scared. He was… accepting.
Over the following weeks, Clark began to teach me about my Kryptonian heritage, about the powers I possessed, and the responsibilities that came with them. He explained the importance of control, of using my abilities for good, and of keeping my powers secret from the world.
Lois, too, was incredibly supportive. Her journalistic curiosity was tempered by her maternal love and concern. She asked insightful questions, wanting to understand the nuances of my abilities, the triggers, the limitations.
Together, they helped me learn to control my heat vision, starting with small, focused bursts and gradually progressing to longer, more sustained beams. We practiced in the fields, far away from the house, aiming at rocks and discarded farm equipment.
It wasn't always easy. There were accidental scorches, moments of frustration when I couldn't quite master the control, but their patience and encouragement never wavered.
I was learning not just to use my powers, but to understand them, to integrate them into the fabric of who I was becoming. I was no longer just Jake Kent, the ordinary son of a farmer and a journalist. I was also the son of Superman, inheritor of a legacy that stretched across galaxies.
And as I stood in the fields with my parents, the setting sun casting a warm golden glow on our faces, I knew that my life would never be ordinary again. The whispers of the extraordinary had become a full-fledged symphony, and I was finally learning to play my part.
Hundreds of miles away, inside the heavily fortified walls of the Department of Defense,
General Sam Lane stood ramrod straight as Colonel Peterson, his usual unflappable demeanor slightly frayed at the edges, concluded his briefing. The holographic projection shimmering above the conference table depicted a series of unsettling images: distorted satellite scans, eyewitness accounts of unusual energy signatures, and grainy photographs of what appeared to be massive, subterranean disturbances.
"In summary, General," Peterson said, his voice grave, "we've detected a significant and rapidly growing energy source beneath the surface of the Earth. The initial readings were dismissed as geological anomalies, but the escalating intensity and the unusual spectral analysis suggest something… else."
Lane's gaze was fixed on the holographic representation of the energy signature, a pulsating vortex of unknown power. He had seen enough unusual phenomena in his years dealing with extraterrestrial threats to recognize that this was far beyond anything natural.
"'Else' as in…?" Lane prompted, his voice sharp and demanding.
"We're not certain, sir," Peterson admitted, his brow furrowed. "The energy signature doesn't match anything we've encountered before. It's… organic, yet incredibly powerful. Almost… sentient."
A knot of unease tightened in Lane's gut. "Sentient energy beneath the Earth's crust? Are we talking about some kind of geological life form?"
"That's one possibility, sir," Dr. Albright, the lead astrophysicist on the project, interjected. Her face, usually animated with scientific curiosity, was etched with worry. "But the energy readings are off the charts. If this is a life form, its scale and power are unprecedented."
"What about Kryptonian signatures?" Lane asked, his gaze shifting to Albright. "Could this be related to Superman or any other known alien activity?"
Albright shook her head. "Negative, General. The energy signature is distinct from anything we've recorded from Kryptonians or any other extraterrestrial source. It's… unique."
Lane leaned forward, his hands clasped behind his back. "What's the potential threat level?"
Peterson exchanged a nervous glance with Albright. "Potentially catastrophic, sir. The energy readings are increasing exponentially. If this entity, whatever it is, were to fully manifest or release its energy… the consequences could be global."
Lane's mind raced, sifting through the possibilities, the potential ramifications. A sentient energy source deep within the Earth. It sounded like something ripped from the pages of a pulp science fiction novel, yet the data presented before him was chillingly real.
"What are our options?" Lane asked, his voice firm despite the growing sense of dread.
"We've initiated Project Deep Scan," Peterson explained. "We're deploying specialized probes to try and gather more detailed information about the energy source and its nature. However, the depth and the intensity of the energy field are making it difficult to penetrate."
"And Superman?" Lane asked, his thoughts turning to the one individual on the planet capable of dealing with threats of this magnitude. "Has he been made aware of this?"
"Not yet, General," Peterson replied. "We wanted to have a clearer picture of the situation before involving him. We didn't want to cause unnecessary alarm."
Lane's jaw tightened. Unnecessary alarm? A potentially planet-ending energy source wasn't cause for alarm? He understood their caution, their desire to gather more intelligence before alerting the Man of Steel, but time might be a luxury they couldn't afford.
"Inform Superman immediately," Lane ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. "He needs to know about this. And I want regular updates, every hour, on Project Deep Scan. I want to know everything you find, no matter how insignificant it may seem."
"Yes, sir," Peterson and Albright replied in unison.
The briefing concluded, but the weight of the information hung heavy in the air. Lane dismissed the other officers, remaining alone in the conference room with the holographic projection still shimmering before him.
He stared at the pulsating vortex of energy, his mind grappling with the unknown threat it represented. He had faced down alien invaders, rogue Kryptonians, and Lex Luthor's twisted schemes, but this felt different, more primal, more profound.
His thoughts drifted to his daughter, Lois, and his grandson, Jake. They were safe in Smallville, living a seemingly normal life on the Kent farm. But Lane knew that normalcy was an illusion, a fragile bubble that could be shattered at any moment by the extraordinary realities of their world.
A sudden, urgent need to see them, to ensure their safety, washed over him. He knew it was irrational, that they were likely safer on the farm than anywhere else, with Clark's protection. But the image of that pulsating energy source, the potential for global catastrophe, had shaken him to his core.
He reached for his phone, his fingers dialing a familiar number. Lois answered on the third ring, her voice warm and welcoming.
"Dad? Everything alright?" she asked, a hint of concern in her tone.
"Everything's fine, Lois," Lane said, his voice trying to convey a sense of calm he didn't entirely feel. "I just… I wanted to check in. See how you and Jake are doing."
"We're great, Dad," Lois replied. "Jake's getting so big. He's even started… well, he's getting into everything now. You should come visit soon."
"I might just do that," Lane said, a sudden decision forming in his mind. He needed to see them, to be near them. And perhaps, just perhaps, his presence on the farm might offer a small measure of reassurance, both to them and to himself.
"I'll head out there now," he said, making the decision final. "I have some… things I need to discuss with Clark."
Lois's tone shifted, a hint of suspicion entering her voice. "Things? What kind of things, Dad?"
"Just… Department business," Lane said vaguely. He knew he couldn't tell her the truth over the phone, not yet. "I'll explain when I get there."
"Alright, Dad," Lois said, her voice still laced with curiosity. "Drive safe."
Lane hung up the phone, a sense of grim determination settling over him. He needed to see his family. He needed to talk to Superman. And together, they needed to figure out what this ominous energy source beneath the Earth meant for their future.
He strode out of the conference room, his mind already focused on the drive to Smallville. The familiar landscape of Kansas, the rolling fields and endless sky, would be a welcome change from the sterile confines of the Pentagon.
As he climbed into his unmarked government vehicle, the image of the pulsating energy vortex flashed in his mind. The Earth was facing a new and unknown threat, one that could dwarf anything they had encountered before. And this time, even Superman might need help.
He pressed down on the accelerator, the powerful engine roaring to life. The road to Smallville stretched out before him, a path leading towards his family and an uncertain future. The briefing room's chilling revelations echoed in his mind, a stark reminder that the quiet life on the Kent farm might soon be disrupted by forces beyond their comprehension. He just hoped he wasn't bringing the storm with him.