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For a long, suspended moment, he didn't move. He simply breathed her in. The scent was imprinted on him now, a ghost-limb of perfect peace that made the very idea of returning to the world of buzzing fluorescent lights and scuffed linoleum feel like a crude descent. To leave this embrace was to willingly step out of a sacred, silent cathedral and back into a noisy, chaotic market. The thought was a physical ache. This is what it feels like to have all your burdens lifted, he realized. This is what it means to be truly safe. It was, without a doubt, the most addictive sensation he had ever experienced.
A soft chuckle, warm and knowing, vibrated through her form and into his. "The door is not locked, my son. You may visit whenever you wish. And you do not need to be embarrassed by wanting to stay. It is the most natural desire in all of creation."
He finally, reluctantly, pulled back. The air of the realm felt cool against his skin where her embrace had been. He ran a self-conscious hand through his hair, a nervous, human gesture that felt absurdly out of place. Here he was, a living supernova, feeling like a teenager caught sleeping in past noon. The sheer normality of the emotion was a comfort. It was a tether, a reminder that Robert Kent, for all his power, was still anchored to something human.
He met her gaze, and the playful glint had softened into something older, more profound. The infinite warmth was still there, but it was now the warmth of a forge, ready to temper steel.
"Robert," she said, and his name was no longer just a name. It was a statement of fact, a title he had to grow into. "The power you carry… it hums a melody I do not know. I have listened to the songs of gods and the silent hymns of collapsing stars, but yours… it is a new composition. Its potential has no score I can read. I cannot measure its depths."
The world, or the non-world around them, seemed to hold its breath. Her words didn't feel like a compliment; they felt like a verdict. A terrifying, exhilarating verdict. The being, his mind whispered, the thought a shiver down his spine. It didn't just give me a set of powers from a comic book. It gave me the concept itself, a living, growing thing. He thought of his careful control, his meticulous suppression. He had been treating his power like a loaded gun to be kept safely holstered. What if it was a seed that needed to be planted, a muscle that needed to be torn to grow stronger? The idea was terrifying. He had never fought, not really. He had only ever contained.
"This is both a gift and a warning," she continued, her voice the gentle, inexorable flow of a tide. "Potential untested is a promise unkept. A sword never swung knows not if it will cut or shatter. You must learn the weight of your own arm, Robert. You must find conflict. Not for glory, not for domination, but for the simple, brutal education of it. You must learn what you are by testing what you are not."
She paused, letting the silence itself press the lesson into him. "Do not let the silence of this peaceful world make you arrogant. Do not mistake the absence of a challenge for the absence of challenges. There are older hungers in the dark, and stranger geometries than your Kryptonian brother can perceive. Your strength is a shield for the life you love, but a shield must also be a weapon when the time comes. You have mastered control. Now, you must master its release."
He listened, his head bowed not in submission, but in concentration, absorbing her words like parched earth absorbing rain. She was right. He had been a guardian, a sentry. But a sentry who has never drawn his sword is just a statue. The Kryptonite incident had been a matter of absorption, of negation. It was a surgeon's move. He had no idea what would happen if he ever had to throw a punch with the intention of truly hitting someone.
Seeing the understanding take root, her expression softened, the stern cosmic architect giving way to the mother seeing her child off to his first day of school. "But that is a path for your feet to find in their own time. For now, your brother is likely wondering why you are staring at a door as if it holds the secrets of the universe. And a certain young lady with autumn in her hair is planning what to wear tomorrow."
The mention of Clark, of Lana, was a sudden, warm anchor. It yanked him back from the precipice of cosmic contemplation and into the wonderfully mundane. It was a reminder of why. Why any of this mattered.
"How… how do I get back?" he asked, the question feeling small and practical in the face of eternity.
A smile, bright and effortless, returned to her face. "You are never truly away. This place is a thought in my mind, and I am now a thought in yours. To return, you need only think of me, and the path will open. To leave, you need only turn your heart toward home." She reached out and gently tapped the tip of his nose, her touch like a snowflake. "But before you go, a final, utterly maternal piece of wisdom."
Her eyes sparkled with a light that was pure mischief. "Do not, under any circumstances, become one of those protagonists from your more… prolific fictions. The ones who amass romantic partners as if building an army. It is terribly cliché, and the emotional paperwork is a nightmare for everyone involved. Your heart is a generous thing, but it is not a hotel."
Robert's face exploded in a blush so violent he felt it in his toes. "Mother!" he sputtered, the word half-protest, half-plea. "I would never! I'm not— that's not who I am!"
Her laughter was a cascade of joyful sound, a melody that made the very void feel brighter. "I know, I know. But a mother's job is to worry about the possibilities. Now, off you go. I'll be watching."
Flustered, embarrassed, but with a heart so full it felt like it might burst, Robert managed a shaky nod. "Goodbye… Mother."
"Goodbye, my dear son," her voice echoed, already fading into a pleasant memory.
He closed his eyes. He didn't think of cosmic power or endless realms. He thought of the smell of fresh-cut hay. He thought of the sound of Clark trying to sneak a second piece of pie. He thought of the nervous, hopeful look in Lana's eyes. He thought of home.
There was no sound, no flash of light. It was like the gentle click of a key turning in a well-oiled lock.
The profound, absolute silence was replaced by the distant, tinny blare of a referee's whistle from the sports field. The cool, still air became the warm, slightly stale breeze of the school's ventilation system. He blinked, and the soft twilight was gone, replaced by the familiar, harsh glare of the hallway lights.
He was standing in the exact same spot, his hand still outstretched toward the classroom door. The dust mote he had seen frozen in time now drifted lazily on an unseen current. The frozen students around him were in motion again, their paused conversations resuming as if a cosmic record needle had been set back down on the groove. Less than a second had passed.
But for Robert, an eternity had unfolded. He lowered his hand, not yet ready to turn the handle. He could still smell it, just for a fraction of a second—the scent of deep, still earth and eternal peace. The weight of a mother's love and a cosmic warning sat on his shoulders, not as a burden, but as a new layer of his soul.
He had a date tomorrow. A brother to find. And a sleeping power within him that he now knew he was meant to awaken, not just contain. A slow, genuine smile touched his lips. The path ahead was suddenly far more vast and mysterious, but his reason for walking it had never been clearer. He took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and stepped back into his life, the echo of a loving, giggling farewell a permanent comfort in the quietest part of his heart.
[Give me review and stone so that i can be motivated and that will help to write some epic fights]👋