Lowered breaths. Rising body heat. Emotions running hot-scorching and intoxicating.
"Are you sure you want to do this here?"
"Point taken."
Morin gave a sheepish grin as he and Diana stood up. He glanced around, his eye twitching slightly. "Looks like we got a little carried away with that sparring match..."
The wilderness, once a stretch of yellow sand and stone, had been completely reshaped. Gray-black soil was exposed, the surface riddled with craters. Strangely, the ground was unnaturally smooth, as if massive shockwaves had churned everything up before compressing it back down into a dense, polished crust.
"Good thing we're out here," Diana said with relief. "If this had been in the city..."
"Look on the bright side."
"And that is?"
"Future domestic disputes won't be an issue. Location matters."
"Hey. Don't jump ahead. We're just dating."
"Sorry. Guess I'm looking forward to it."
"Honestly..." Diana muttered, though the corners of her lips lifted. No woman would truly be angry at words like that-unless there was no chemistry. And clearly, Morin, who satisfied her in every possible way, wasn't lacking there.
"Let's move," Morin said. "That noise drew attention."
His gaze flickered as he sensed movement in the distance. He summoned his Police Multi-Purpose Vehicle, climbed into the cockpit, activated True Stealth Mode-the Mimicry function-and sped away.
Some time later, military helicopters arrived, ropes dropping as fully armed soldiers rappelled down.
"My God..." The commanding officer swallowed as he surveyed the destruction.
"Report," a superior demanded over the radio. "We detected continuous tremors and abnormal sounds an hour ago. What happened?"
"It looks like this place was plowed by artillery," the officer replied, crouching. "But I can't explain the details."
He drew his combat knife and stabbed at the ground. A sharp clink rang out. The blade bounced away, leaving no mark on the smooth surface.
"I recommend specialists, sir. This could be a new type of weapon. Please check if any departments are running classified projects. Also... possible radiation. Prepare protective gear."
Morin and Diana had no idea their sparring aftermath was being classified as next-generation weaponry by the U.S. military.
They were already back at Diana's residence, taking turns in the shower.
Mainly because they hadn't reached the "shower together" stage yet.
Morin decided to let that accrue interest.
"Wait..."
A serious thought struck him.
Based on Diana's stamina...
She might actually be stronger than him.
Didn't that mean he was in trouble?
Should he start preparing supplements? Goji berries? Leeks?
Morin fell into deep thought.
Then the television caught his attention.
"...During the recent test flight of Ferris Aircraft's newly developed 'Saber One,' pilot Martin Jordan tragically lost his life due to an operational malfunction..."
"That timing..." Morin muttered.
Martin Jordan. Hal Jordan's father.
Future Green Lantern.
According to the timeline, this coincided with the period when Superman's cousins would be arriving on Earth.
Did all major events really stack together like this?
Click.
The bathroom door opened.
Diana stepped out, wrapped in a towel.
Morin's attention snapped over instantly.
To hell with major events. That was a problem for ten or twenty years later. With a beautiful woman stepping out of the bath right in front of him, thinking about anything else would be disrespectful-to her and to himself.
Steam clung to her porcelain skin, giving it a soft, rosy glow. Her long legs shifted beneath the towel, every movement deliberate and dangerous. She smiled, eyes bright.
"Your turn."
"I'm starting to regret not going in together."
"Maybe next time."
"Do you shower twice a day as a hobby?"
"That depends on how much 'exercise' we get tonight," Diana said, biting her lip.
Thump-thump.
Systemic venous blood returned to the right atrium, passed through the ventricle, into the pulmonary artery, exchanged gases, returned oxygen-rich to the left atrium, then surged through the aorta to the entire body.
"Say no more," Morin said. "Things are getting cramped."
He dashed into the bathroom.
Dangerous woman.
He'd been played.
For the sake of the world, he'd have to keep a close eye on this "bad girl." Sacrificing himself to prevent collateral damage-truly the actions of a man of justice.
Feeling righteous, Morin finished quickly, dried off, wrapped a towel around himself, and stepped out.
Diana's eyes drifted over without permission.
Two long, powerful legs crossed the damp floor. She looked up into eyes dark and deep. He brushed back his wet hair casually, droplets scattering, a faint smirk on his face.
Now it was her turn.
"Want to eat something?" Morin asked.
The question carried layers.
"I've heard China has the best food in the world," Diana replied, either missing or ignoring the implication.
"Of course," Morin nodded. "We're called a Nation of Foodies for a reason. You'll definitely find something you love."
"Then why don't we go there and just eat our way through the country?" Diana suggested. After being isolated for so long, she wanted to see the world.
"...We might have to wait," Morin said. "I'm expecting a delivery."
"A delivery?"
"One I have to sign for in person."
"When does it arrive?"
"Good question. I don't actually know," Morin said helplessly. "How about traveling around the States first? I have a side job as a fitness coach there. The delivery address is nearby. It should arrive soon."
"Should?" Diana repeated.
"You'll see."
He smoothly changed topics. "Even if we can't go to China yet, I can cook for you."
"Is there anything you can't do?"
"Yes. I can't give birth."
"I can handle that."
"Keep talking like that and I'm worried you won't get dinner tonight," Morin said lightly.
He didn't need groceries. His system storage was stocked with premium ingredients in perfect stasis. As a transmigrator from a nation obsessed with food, failing to prepare would be a sin.
That night, they had two "meals."
Both were deeply satisfying.
The first was delicious. The second would take thousands of words and billions of cells to describe, so-for efficiency and regulatory safety-it would remain unrecorded.
He definitely wasn't afraid of a 404.
...
"Are you sure the delivery is coming here?"
Diana stared at the endless cornfields, speechless.
Who delivers a package to the middle of nowhere?
"Yes," Morin said, putting the vehicle away. "I know the people here. Some of the kindest I've ever met. Come on. I'll introduce you."
They arrived at Jonathan and Martha Kent's home.
Seeing Morin return with Diana, the couple greeted them warmly-though the warmth was forced.
"What's wrong?" Morin noticed immediately. He exchanged a look with Diana, then drew Jonathan aside. "Money trouble? Or something else?"
"No," Jonathan sighed, shaking his head. "Martha and I... we've been married for years. We never had children. The hospital results came back yesterday. She can't."
"I see..."
Morin understood.
So that was it.
When God closed a door, He opened a window.
"There's always a solution," Morin said, patting Jonathan's shoulder.
"Thanks," Jonathan replied, assuming it was just kindness.
Morin didn't elaborate.
He could heal Martha.
But he had no intention of raising Clark himself.
He'd just started dating Diana. Carrying an infant around made no sense.
More importantly, Morin couldn't guarantee what Clark would become under his influence. His own values were closer to "an eye for an eye." Raising the most powerful being on Earth with a skewed moral compass was a terrible idea.
The Kents were the best choice.
Night fell.
On the roof.
"Why bring me up here?" Diana whispered, misunderstanding slightly. "This doesn't seem very stable."
"What are you thinking?" Morin laughed, pointing upward. "Look."
"At what?"
The sky was full of stars-vast, swirling, impossibly beautiful.
"Wow..."
"You can only see this away from city lights," Morin said quietly. Even after standing among the stars himself, the view still made him feel small. "But that's not what I wanted to show you."
"Then what?"
"My delivery."
He pointed into the stars.
"It's right there."
"...Huh?"
"You mean it's coming from space?" Diana raised an eyebrow.
"Exactly," Morin nodded. "And it'll be one of the keys to Earth surviving future alien invasions."
"Is the future fixed?" Diana asked.
"No. The future is made of countless paths. Every choice matters. Even a butterfly being late by one second could destroy the planet. All I can do is find the optimal path-and the key factors."
"You, me... and that couple?" Diana said thoughtfully.
"Yes. And the delivery," Morin said, squinting. "Wait. Is that..."
"A shooting star?" Diana asked as a streak of light crossed the sky.
"I don't think so," Morin muttered. "Have you ever seen one that keeps getting bigger?"
The fiery object rapidly expanded.
"A meteor?!" Diana reached for her sword and shield.
"Wait!" Morin stopped her. "Don't!"
If she cut it in half, Superman would arrive dead.
"That's the delivery!" Morin said quickly.
"Oh." Diana put her weapons away, embarrassed. "Why didn't you say so?"
"I was about to. Never mind-I'll catch it."
Morin rose into the air, electromagnetic power surging. Layered magnetic fields enveloped the descending craft, slowing it smoothly.
By the time it reached him, it stopped completely.
The sonic boom woke Jonathan and Martha. They rushed outside just in time to see Morin lowering a three-meter-wide craft to the ground.
"You saw that?" Morin smiled at the stunned couple.
"As you can see."
"My delivery has arrived."
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