The Kents were still speechless.
What they had just witnessed went far beyond anything their simple, honest worldview could process.
"Relax. We're just a little different from ordinary people," Diana said, hopping down from the roof with ease.
Hiss-
As the craft touched the ground, it reacted. Gas vented to stabilize pressure, and the hatch slid open on its own.
"Waaaaah~"
A baby's cry spilled out.
Everyone froze.
Especially Martha.
Having just learned she couldn't have children, that sound struck straight into her heart. She forgot caution, forgot fear, and rushed forward without thinking.
"Your delivery... is a baby?" Diana leaned close to Morin and whispered. "I thought it'd be a powerful artifact or a dangerous ally."
"Technically, he's both," Morin said dryly. "He just needs a long loading time. Don't worry. If things go as planned, the enemies won't show up until he's grown."
"This child..." Martha reached out and carefully lifted the baby into her arms.
"Martha..." Jonathan stepped forward, worry flashing across his face. He wanted to stop her-but couldn't.
After what he'd seen, he knew Morin and Diana were far from ordinary.
But still-
A baby.
A child.
The newborn whimpered softly in Martha's arms.
It felt like a gift from God.
"Sir," Jonathan looked at Morin, resolve hardening as he gathered his courage. "This child... could we...?"
Martha looked up too, hope trembling in her eyes.
They waited.
"Oh, I was just about to bring that up," Morin said, smiling without dragging it out. "Diana and I have things to handle. We won't be raising a child. And after staying here a while, I've seen you're kind, honest people. Your situation is perfect."
"So," he continued, "would you be willing to raise him?"
"Thank you..." Martha's eyes filled with tears. Then she suddenly remembered something and rushed into the house. She returned moments later with a bundle of blankets. "We... prepared these. For later."
"See? Told you there's always a solution," Morin said, patting Jonathan's shoulder. "You probably have a lot of questions. Let's go inside."
"And this?" Jonathan glanced at the massive craft.
Leaving it here felt dangerous.
"I'll handle it." Morin stored it away. Then he paused, walked over, and gently removed a small metal cylinder marked with an 'S' from the baby's neck. "I'll keep this for now. He can have it back when he's older."
"What is it?" Diana asked. "How much of the future have you seen?"
"A key," Morin replied lightly. "But it belongs to him."
"Can he really grow up normally among humans?"
"His powers will awaken slowly. It'll be fine," Morin said. "I'm not planning to be a deadbeat uncle. I'll teach him. But for daily life, he needs grounded parents. Otherwise, with his future power..."
He glanced at the crying baby.
"...there'd be a lot of unnecessary destruction."
No one argued.
They sat together at the table.
"Oh. Photos," Morin said suddenly, pulling out a camera and snapping shot after shot.
He could already picture it.
Clark: "I have infinite strength!"
Morin: "I have your baby photos."
Clark: "I'm invulnerable!"
Morin: "Baby photos."
Clark: "Heat vision!"
Morin: "Baby photos."
Clark: "I'm sorry, Uncle."
You could never have too many future lethal weapons.
Afterward, Morin handed the camera and a stack of memory cards to Jonathan. He showed him how to use them.
"This is a small request," he said. "His parents gave their lives for him. I hope you'll record his growth. Cute moments. Embarrassing ones. All of it."
"I will," Jonathan said solemnly.
"I feel like you're up to something," Diana said suspiciously.
"You're imagining things."
"Am I?"
"Yes."
He smoothly changed the subject.
"Now, his origins. You can decide how much to tell him later," Morin said. "He's an alien. He'll become incredibly powerful. God-level, or more."
"So raise him your way. Don't let him abuse power. Don't let him become weak either."
Jonathan nodded, overwhelmed.
"Simple version," Morin added. "Don't let him become a bully. Teach him kindness, but don't let him get pushed around just because he's holding back."
"What if he hurts someone?" Jonathan asked. "What if the government finds out?"
"That's balance. That part's on you," Morin replied. "But I can promise one thing."
He and Diana spoke together.
"They won't dare touch him."
Jonathan felt steadier remembering what he'd seen.
Still, he resolved to teach the boy restraint.
"So... a name?" Martha asked softly. "Does he have one?"
"No," Morin shook his head. "You choose."
"...Klaus?" Jonathan offered.
Martha hesitated and glanced at Morin.
Morin froze.
Something was very wrong with these people.
"How about Clark?" he said quickly. "That sounds better."
"Clark it is," they agreed immediately.
"Clark Kent," Diana repeated. "A good name."
"We'll be leaving for a bit," Morin said, placing a card on the table. "This is child support. PIN's ******."
"That's not necessary-"
"It is," Morin said flatly. "And you want him to have a good life."
Jonathan accepted it.
"We'll pay you back."
"First, I don't lack money," Morin smiled. "Second, if anyone pays me back, it'll be him."
And that was that.
Clark Kent-almost Klaus Kent-became the Kents' adopted son.
The next day, Morin and Diana left.
"Where to?" Diana asked.
"To see another key player."
Gotham City.
Wayne Manor.
"I thought you'd run off with the money," Bruce said coldly.
"Me? I look like that kind of guy?" Morin laughed. "Anyway-this is my girlfriend, Diana."
Bruce nodded stiffly. "Hello."
"Hi," Diana smiled, thinking, Why are all the key people you find so young?
Telepathy answered back. Younger means easier to shape. More potential.
That means they'll know I'm older.
Morin wisely stayed silent.
Age was dangerous territory.
"It's been three days," Bruce said, stepping into the ring. "Let's train."
"Alright."
Equalized stats. Pure technique.
Bruce lasted longer this time.
"Not bad," Morin said afterward. "You've improved."
He grinned.
Then ruffled Bruce's hair.
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