[Sephie Michaela Deviluke POV]
I tried to hide the laughter bubbling inside me as I watched my husband. He was clapping his hands together like an overexcited child watching his favorite program, and honestly, it was simply adorable. Though to be fair, I couldn't even blame him. What we were witnessing was truly praiseworthy and more than deserving of applause.
Zastin had been broadcasting everything Superman and the others experienced during their journey to that distant planet. Every battle, every interaction, every obstacle they faced had been displayed for us to see.
We had already witnessed his confrontation against the assassin known as Yami, a highly skilled young woman feared by many across the galaxy. And yet Kal-El had defeated her surprisingly quickly. It seemed he had grown far more skillful since the last time we had properly observed him in action.
More impressive than the victory itself, however, was what followed after. Somehow, from the looks of it, he had managed to turn her into an ally.
That alone was a valuable trait for someone destined to stand as a king candidate. The ability to transform adversaries into allies and inspire even the strong to rally beside you was not something that could simply be taught. It was the mark of a true leader.
I had to admit, Lala truly knew how to pick them.
Turning toward my husband, I saw him leaning over in his chair with complete delight written across his face, likely thinking the very same thing I was. Especially now, as Ultraman, who once stood as Superman's opposition, now fought beside him instead. The two of them were carrying the weight of the moon together, straining themselves for the exact same cause.
"Despite how your previous interaction ended, you seem quite pleased and satisfied with him," I teased lightly.
He immediately crossed his arms over his chest and puffed out his cheeks in an adorable pout. "Who's satisfied? That brat still has much to learn," he huffed. "Lifting a moon is supposed to be impressive? Oh please, I could do that with my pinky!"
He held up his tiny finger proudly to emphasize his point.
I had to suppress my amusement as his attention returned to the screen, where Kal-El and the others carefully guided the moon back into place.
My love then rubbed at his smooth, stubbleless face thoughtfully before speaking again. "From what Zastin reported back, today's the Super-Brat's birthday, isn't it?" he asked. "Should we send him a present?"
"Hehehe.
Seriously, couldn't he just admit that he was proud of Kal-El's growth?
Still, although Superman's feat was certainly impressive, there was a far more important matter at hand. I lightly cleared my throat, drawing Gid's attention toward me. The playful look on his face slowly disappeared the moment he saw my expression.
"Did you notice?" I asked quietly, turning my gaze back toward the screen.
Gid did the same and gave a slow nod. "An Ultarian…" he murmured. "Its last surviving member."
His voice became solemn and heavy, completely unlike his usual childish demeanor and appearance.
"I thought they were all wiped out by Darkseid and his forces over twenty years ago," he continued. "But it seems they managed to preserve at least a fragment of their legacy."
He leaned back slightly, his eyes fixed on the projection before us.
"The Ultarians were a heavy loss to our forces. They were powerful and dependable allies… but that same strength also made them targets. Darkseid understood how dangerous they were, which is exactly why he sought to exterminate them completely."
His expression darkened.
"Their absence is still felt even now as we continue fighting to keep our universe from falling apart."
"We've lost many allies and friends over the years," I said softly as the familiar weight of grief settled heavily across our shoulders.
Without a word, he reached over and took my hand in his own, squeezing it gently in reassurance.
"The best we can do," he said quietly, his thumb brushing over my knuckles, "is honor the fallen by continuing the battle they willingly gave their lives for. To do otherwise would be betraying their memory and sacrifice."
Leaning closer, I pressed a kiss against his cheek. He truly always knew the right thing to say when it mattered most. "You are, of course, right, my dear."
"Hehehe." He giggled proudly, though the faint redness spreading across his ears betrayed just how embarrassed he actually was.
"Besides," he continued, his form beginning to change as his body rapidly grew larger and more imposing, transforming into the tyrannical — and admittedly handsome — King of the Universe he was known throughout countless galaxies for being. "A symbol of hope is beginning to emerge within this small universe of ours."
"A symbol of hope?" I repeated as he arrogantly settled himself deeper into his throne, raising one leg over the armrest like he owned reality itself.
Which, to be fair, he often acted like he did.
Without warning, he reached over and pulled me directly into his lap. I let out a startled yelp as he wrapped an arm securely around my waist before continuing.
"That's right. A symbol," he said. "Our forces, as large as they may be, are beginning to lose morale because of our constant failures in this war. They need something new to believe in. Something they can place their faith in. Something that reassures them that everything will eventually be alright."
As he spoke, our attention naturally drifted back toward the screen.
"SU-PER-MAN!"
"SU-PER-MAN!"
"SU-PER-MAN!!"
The cheers echoed loudly across the projection as countless people celebrated Kal-El's actions.
"I see…" I muttered softly while relaxing against his chest. "You plan to turn him into that symbol."
It honestly wasn't a terrible plan. In fact, it would probably be extremely effective. Hope was a powerful thing during times of war, especially a war as long and devastating as this one.
Still… I didn't quite know how to feel about placing such a burden on someone so young.
"That's the beauty of it," he said, gently grabbing my chin and making me look directly at him. My face immediately grew embarrassingly hot under his gaze. "I don't need to do anything. Can't you see it? He's already doing everything himself. I don't have to force it."
A grin stretched across his face.
"He's a natural."
As much as I disliked admitting it, I couldn't deny that he was right.
Kal-El truly was a natural. "Now come on," he continued with a playful grin. "You're much better at this than I am. What should I send him?"
I stared at him in complete disbelief for several seconds before laughter suddenly escaped me.
This man truly was impossible sometimes.
…
[Third Person POV]
Far away from Earth, across an entirely different galaxy many light years away, there existed a massive purple planet inhabited by an advanced civilization. Towering skyscrapers stretched high into the atmosphere while countless vehicles floated through glowing highways suspended in the air. Endless scientific facilities and laboratories covered entire sectors of the planet, their technology surpassing humanity's understanding by centuries.
Gid and Sephie were far from the only ones observing Superman's journey through space.
"It appears our plan succeeded," one Zeta Reticulan stated coldly.
Clark would have immediately recognized the species. They were the same grey aliens he and Krypto had battled in the past.
"Of course it succeeded," another alien of similar appearance scoffed arrogantly. "Was there ever truly any doubt? Our probability of failure was statistically insignificant."
Its large black eyes narrowed slightly as holographic screens displayed countless recordings of Superman's recent battles.
"Orchestrating the confrontation between Superman and the final Ultarian was merely phase one of our operation regarding Earth. Removing him from the planet granted us the necessary window to begin phase two."
A third Zeta Reticulan stood motionless before an enormous monitor, its thin fingers moving rapidly across glowing controls.
"Cataloging all combat sequences, adaptive maneuvers, reaction timing, and behavioral patterns exhibited by the subject designated as 'The Superman,'" the alien stated in a flawless monotone. "Data successfully archived for continued analysis, tactical instruction, predictive modeling, and the development of viable countermeasures."
The screens rapidly shifted between different recordings of Clark fighting. Every movement, every dodge, every punch, every decision he made in combat was being dissected and studied in real time.
"Combat methodology will be replicated, studied, enhanced, and integrated."
The middle alien slowly turned away from the monitors and approached a massive cylindrical chamber connected from floor to ceiling. Thick green liquid filled the container completely, bubbling softly within the glass tube.
Floating inside was a tiny embryo no larger than the size of a human palm, curled tightly into itself.
The Zeta Reticulan placed a long padded finger against the glass.
"All of this," it said quietly, "shall serve as nourishment for our ultimate weapon."
"For the one who shall deliver the planet known as Earth directly into our hands."
"For the being destined to kill Superman."
"Born from his blood…"
"Gifted with our minds…"
The embryo twitched slightly inside the fluid.
"Our child… Our Superboy."
A/N: that's right, I'm waiting for you bitches to say something, come at me bro, what's that? You hate clones and you think I ruined this story because of it? Well guess what, I don't give a fuck!
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