Two days later.
The town of Smallville burst into life.
Colorful banners hung like streamers above cobbled streets. Laughter, chatter, and music blended into the rhythm of celebration. It was the day of the Harvest Festival—a tradition so old it felt stitched into the town's very soul.
Vendors lined the central square, their booths displaying baskets of fresh produce, homemade preserves, and intricately carved pumpkins. Families in traditional attire walked hand-in-hand beneath the autumn sun. The atmosphere was a patchwork of joy and nostalgia.
Peter strolled through the crowd, a silent storm brewing in his mind, while Adam trailed behind, wide-eyed.
"Hey, Patrick!"
A cheerful voice broke through the noise. Nier, radiant in her festive dress, waved at him. Her long auburn hair was braided with wheat stalks, and her tall frame carried the elegance of a pageant queen.
Standing beside her, Lana wore a mint-green dress and a crown of daisies. Her cheeks flushed pink when she shyly greeted Peter.
"Uncle Patrick."
"You look beautiful today, Lana," Peter smiled, adjusting the flower wreath on her head. Then he turned to Nier and added, "Really, just call me Peter."
Nier chuckled, brushing her hair aside. "Old habits die hard."
Peter's eyes briefly flicked to Adam.
He had expected the boy to be following Clark's lead, throwing bashful glances at Lana like most kids their age would.
But no.
Adam's gaze wasn't on Lana.
He was discreetly eyeing Nier.
Peter blinked, then facepalmed.
This kid… he really doesn't change.
Even after reincarnation, Adam still had a weakness for mature women. It was uncanny.
Wait a second.
Peter furrowed his brow, stroking his chin. Could Adam's attraction to older women be tied to the lack of a maternal figure in his life? After all, Adam had no mother in this life. Was this some kind of psychological compensation?
He made a mental note. Maybe I need to find a mother figure for Adam. Wonder Woman? Catwoman? Queen of Atlantis? He didn't know many female superheroes, but those were at least sturdy enough not to get crushed if Adam got a little too affectionate.
His train of thought was broken as the sun dipped behind the horizon and soft lanterns were lit across the square.
As darkness fell, the townspeople migrated to the Great Hall for the evening's entertainment—music, dancing, and speeches.
Peter, Adam, and Nier joined the crowd.
Inside the Great Hall, the stage glowed under orange lights as musicians tuned their instruments. The room was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with smiling faces. Children danced near the stage. The scent of cinnamon apples and roasted corn filled the air.
Then, the crowd hushed.
Father Norma stepped onto the stage.
It was the first time Peter had seen him in days.
The priest's black coat hung loose on his skeletal frame. His sunken eyes scanned the crowd, and his voice—though weak—echoed eerily as he gave a short, solemn speech about community and blessings.
Peter narrowed his eyes.
He had confirmed that Father Norma had been absent from town, supposedly visiting Metropolis. But Peter had been suspicious for days. The timing, the disappearances, the resurrection of the dead—Norma was no longer the man of God he once pretended to be.
The priest finished his speech and quickly slipped offstage.
Peter leaned toward Nier. "Please watch Adam for a few minutes."
"Of course," Nier nodded.
Peter quietly exited the Great Hall, cloaked in shadow.
---
Elsewhere…
Father Norma rushed home through back alleys, his black coat flapping behind him.
Once inside his house, he stormed into his study, locked the door, and moved the bookshelf aside to reveal the hidden stairwell.
Descending into his dark basement, he knelt at the unholy altar once more.
The putrid air reeked of rot and mildew. Candles flickered around a tome made from human skin—his black magic lifeline. The Codex.
Without hesitation, he opened it and began muttering an incantation.
The glyphs shimmered.
Blood that had been smeared across the altar earlier pulsed with unnatural heat.
The ritual had already begun.
---
Moments later…
Peter appeared inside the now-empty house.
He passed through the study undetected and descended into the basement.
The room was dark—but he didn't need light.
His vision adjusted effortlessly to the dark dimension.
He moved silently past the old canvas tarps and stacks of moldy books, arriving at the center of the altar.
Candlelight shimmered off sacrificial skulls. A wall calendar marked with a red ink silhouette of a figure caught his eye.
Peter studied the evidence. It was clear now.
Father Norma had become a necromancer.
He wasn't just raising corpses.
He was summoning something worse.
---
Back at the Great Hall
Soft jazz played beneath the warm lights. Laughter rose above the melody.
Clark stood awkwardly near the edge of the dance floor, watching couples spin in circles.
Behind him, Adam suddenly appeared, hands in his coat pockets.
"You gonna dance?" Adam teased.
"I can't dance," Clark muttered.
"Neither can I. That's why it's normal for kids like us not to. You don't have to be jealous of anyone."
Adam turned as he spotted Lana walking up.
"Hey, Lana."
"Hi, Clark. Hi, Adam." She smiled brightly.
Clark's cheeks turned red. She smelled like a mix of Avon soap and Juicy Fruit gum—sweet and innocent.
"I… uh… sorry for scaring your horse last week," he said.
Lana tilted her head. "I already forgot. Besides, Uncle Patrick saved me. Aunt Nier says I should thank him properly."
Clark beamed at that.
In her mind, Lana thought of Peter as a gallant knight.
If she were a princess, he'd be her protector.
But then she remembered what Aunt Nier had said earlier—that she was like Cinderella.
And at midnight, Cinderella's magic fades.
Her smile faltered.
And then—
A scream tore through the hall.
Lana's eyes widened as she turned.
From the side corridor, a pale-faced man staggered in—his shirt soaked in blood, mouth split unnaturally wide, like it had been torn open to his ears.
He let out an inhuman snarl.
And lunged.
"SCREEEECH!"
Blood sprayed as the monster bit clean through the neck of a nearby dancer. Screams exploded in every direction.
More bodies dropped.
Within seconds, five people had collapsed.
No one understood what was happening.
It was chaos.
Clark's mouth fell open in horror.
Adam froze—just for a second.
Then instinct kicked in.
"MOVE!" Adam shouted, grabbing both Clark and Lana by the arms.
"We've got to get out—now!"
They sprinted toward the entrance.
But they weren't the only ones.
A sea of people rushed the same way. Screaming. Pushing. Crying.
The double doors at the front of the hall clanged loudly as dozens of people tried to push through them.
They didn't budge.
Locked.
The first wave of people at the front slammed into the wood. People fell. Others were trampled.
"Clark! Adam!"
Jonathan and Martha tried to push through the mass, calling out desperately.
Nier, frantically scanning the crowd, shouted for Lana.
Panic had become a living thing now, thick in the air.
"We need the fire exit!" Adam yelled over the noise.
He grabbed Clark by the collar and started pushing through the stampede. Lana followed behind, nearly in tears.
"Peter said—when in doubt—use the fire exit!"
Adam forced a path forward.
He shoved aside two older boys, elbowed a man in the stomach, and punched someone right in the face to clear space.
Clark could barely believe it.
But Adam wasn't pa
nicking.
He was surviving.
And in this hellish moment…
That was all that mattered.
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