[Third Person Pov]
Clark stared at the small, disgusting device resting in his palm for only a moment before his eyes ignited with bright crimson-gold heat. A concentrated beam of heat vision lanced out, instantly vaporizing the foreign technology in a small, sharp explosion that singed his hand. The acrid smell of burnt circuitry lingered in the air.
He then turned his gaze toward Yami and Momo, activating his X-ray vision to scan their bodies thoroughly. What he found made his jaw tighten. With a heavy sigh, Clark looked at both girls with mock regret in his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
Yami tilted her head. "For wha—?"
Before she could finish, Clark moved like lightning. With precise, controlled strength, he delivered two rapid punches — one to each girl's stomach. The impacts were perfectly measured, just enough force to expel the devices without causing serious internal damage.
Both Momo and Yami were lifted slightly off the ground as they violently spat out the small metallic objects, which clattered and rolled across the laboratory floor. The two girls dropped to their knees, clutching their stomachs and grunting in pain while shooting Clark murderous glares.
"You bastard!" Momo growled through clenched teeth, tears of pain pricking at the corners of her eyes. "Couldn't you have been gentler?! Or found a different way?!"
Clark casually destroyed the two newly expelled devices with quick bursts of heat vision, reducing them to molten slag. "No," he said flatly, then paused as if the thought just occurred to him. "Oh wait… I probably could have phased my hand through you and pulled them out that way."
He shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh well. You live and you learn."
Both Yami and Momo continued glaring at him in seething silence. Momo's eye twitched violently.
Finally, Momo turned to Yami with a dangerous smile. "Yami… you're an assassin, right? How much do you charge?"
Yami's expression remained stoic as she slowly stood up, still holding her stomach. "Don't worry. I won't charge you a single unit for this one."
Clark rolled his eyes and as he went and helped the girls up to her feet, all three of them now staring at the fresh scorch marks on the floor while nursing their aching midsections.
Momo grumbled under her breath before shifting her glare toward Kreel. "Your father is Cranis, right? Well… he's one evil motherfucker."
Kreel sighed deeply, a heavy, despondent look crossing his face, making him look older "He wasn't always like this," he muttered softly, he looked off towards the distance, lost in memories. "The death of my mother… it forever changed him. He used to be a good man. He wanted nothing more than the betterment of our people. He was a brilliant, respected scientist, a devoted husband, and… a good father."
Kreel's voice grew more solemn, tighter, as did his expression, "I used to look up to him more than anyone. But after my mother was diagnosed with an incurable disease that left her bedridden… everything fell apart. He drove himself to the brink of madness trying to find a cure. He failed. He turned to colleagues, to the greatest scientific minds on the planet, but they all told him the same thing — there was nothing they could do. They didn't even try."
He cleared his throat as his voice cracked faintly. "He began spending longer and longer nights in the lab without rest. I obviously grew concerned, one night I begged him to sleep, to take a break. That… That was the first time he ever laid his hands on me."
Kreel absentmindedly touched his cheek, as if the sting still lingered, he caressed it softly. "I still remember the look in his eyes — frenzied, almost animalistic. He was barely recognizable."
Momo's expression softened, a look of genuine sympathy replacing her earlier anger.
Kreel continued staring at the floor. "So no… my father isn't necessarily evil. He's just someone who let grief consume him completely."
Clark crossed his arms, his voice firm but not unkind. "Look, I sympathize with your pain. I really do. But I hope you're not expecting me to spare him just because he has a tragic backstory. What he's done since then — the lives he's destroyed — that's on him."
"Clark!" Momo glared at him in reprimand. "Come on, have a heart!"
"And you have a brain," Clark shot back. "Look at what he did to Yami. Look at what he was planning to do to all of us. He forced her against her will to kill innocent people. Soldiers are tearing families apart from each other, all under his mandates. Have you forgotten how many we already saved on the way here just from being massacred because they didn't want to comply with his ridiculous laws? How many more are suffering right now as we stand here and talk."
Momo opened her mouth, then slowly closed it, looking down at her feet with a heavy expression. The atmosphere in the lab grew thick and suffocating under the weight of Clark's words.
"I do have a heart," Clark said quietly, his voice resolute. "It's with the people who matter. The people who deserve it. To the people that are suffering due to a tyrant, my heart is with the people that pleaded to me to put an end to this"
Silence fell over the group until Kreel finally spoke again, his voice steady despite the pain in his eyes.
"I'm not asking you to spare my father," he said. "I only asked you for one thing since we met — to save my brother. He's innocent in all of this. He doesn't deserve to be my father's puppet. Do whatever you want with my father… just please save him."
Clark raised an eyebrow. Both Yami and Momo looked at Kreel with surprise. After a moment, Clark nodded.
"Good."
---
The scene shifted to an opulent private dining hall.
Lala sat at the long ornate table with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, pouting as she turned her head away from the lavish spread of food in front of her.
"You should eat, my dear," Cranis said smoothly. "It's quite disgraceful to waste such fine food."
"No thank you," Lala replied stubbornly. "It won't be long now before Superman comes and beats your butt. Just you wait!"
Cranis threw his head back and laughed loudly. "Hahahahaha! Superman won't be coming, princess. Don't get your hopes up — he's already been defeated."
Lala scoffed and stuck her tongue out at him. "Shows what you know. He's not Superman because he's undefeatable. He's Superman because he's someone you can always count on."
Cranis's face twisted in clear annoyance at how confidently she spoke about another man. He stabbed his knife violently into the table, causing plates and glasses to rattle loudly in an attempt to intimidate her. Lala remained completely unfazed.
"Superman is coming for me. Of that, I can guarantee."
Cranis's reached across the table with a possessive sneer, his fingers closing around a lock of Lala's vibrant hair. He slowly twisted it between his fingers, tugging her closer.
"You're only making this harder for yourself—" he murmured, leaning in as he brought the strand of hair toward his face to inhale its scent.
In that exact instant, the air itself seemed to shatter.
A streak of white, gold, and crimson exploded into the dining hall at speeds beyond comprehension. The movement was so fast that Cranis didn't even have time to register the blur before it was over.
**SHIIING—!**
A thin line of red appeared across Cranis's elbows. For a fraction of a second, nothing happened.
Then blood sprayed violently outward in a gruesome arc.
Cranis blinked once in confusion — and in the next heartbeat, the entire luxurious dining setup was obliterated. The heavy table, chairs, plates, glasses, and food were blasted away in every direction by the sheer shockwave of Clark's arrival, leaving Cranis sitting on his single seat in stunned silence, staring at the clean stump where his right hand used to be.
Only then did the pain hit.
"AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!"
Cranis let out a blood-curdling scream as he collapsed forward onto his knees, clutching the cauterized stump with his remaining hand. Blood still poured from the wound despite the intense heat of the cut having partially sealed it from Clark's gauntlet.
When he finally looked up through tear-filled, wide eyes, Clark stood tall and menacing in the center of the destruction. Lala was safely cradled in his left arm, held protectively against his chest. In his right hand, Clark casually held Cranis's severed hand by the wrist, the fingers still slightly curled as if still trying to grasp Lala's hair.
Clark's eyes burned with a cold, furious glow as he growled in a low, dangerous voice that echoed through the ruined dining hall:
"I'm pretty sure I remember telling you once that Lala doesn't belong to you. Get it through your big ass head, Lala's my woman, understand?"
Lala's entire face lit up with pure joy. Her eyes sparkled as she beamed ear-to-ear.
"I knew it! I knew you'd come for me!" She squealed happily, throwing her arms tightly around Clark's neck and planting several enthusiastic kisses on his lips.
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