Jeremy trailed them, his footsteps silent. He moved with the Speed of a ghost, staying in the shadows cast by the mansion's towering statuary. Behind him, he knew Chloe was occupied with a group of boosters, her trust in him so complete she hadn't even noticed his departure.
He reached the greenhouse door just as the first scream was cut short.
Inside, the moonlight filtered through the glass, casting jagged shadows across the tropical ferns. Jodi had Pete backed against a stone planter. She looked terrifying—her jaw was unhinging in a way that defied human anatomy, her skin sagging as if it were melting off her bones.
"I'm so sorry, Pete," she hissed, her fingers elongating into waxy, needle-like points. "But I'm so... empty. I just need a little bit. You won't even miss it."
Jeremy stepped into the doorway, his hand crackling with a faint, blue Static. He didn't want this power—sucking fat was a messy, biological nightmare—but he needed Pete alive to keep his "hero" narrative intact with Chloe.
He was ready to strike, but a sudden shift in air pressure told him he was no longer alone.
VROOOM.
A blur of motion slammed into the greenhouse, a gust of wind so violent it sent the hanging orchids spinning.
Clark Kent was suddenly there, standing between Pete and the starving girl. He didn't use a weapon; he just used himself as a shield.
"Jodi, don't do this!" Clark shouted, his voice echoing off the glass.
Jodi didn't listen. Driven by a metabolic madness, she lunged. Her hands latched onto Clark's chest, her waxy fingers pressing against his skin, trying to find the "softness" to drain. But as her power engaged, Jeremy saw something that made his own blood turn cold.
Jodi's face contorted in agony. She was pulling, screaming with the effort of her siphoning, but Clark was a solid, unyielding mass. It was like a mosquito trying to drain a statue made of diamond. There was no fat to take—only the dense, molecular perfection of a body that wasn't human.
"It... it won't... WHY WON'T YOU GIVE IT TO ME?" Jodi shrieked, her own cells beginning to collapse under the strain of trying to process Clark's density.
Clark didn't hit her. He simply stepped forward, his massive strength pushing her back until she tripped, falling backward into a heavy decorative fountain. The splash was loud in the quiet room. The sudden shock, combined with the total failure of her ability to "feed" on Clark, knocked her into a catatonic state.
…
Jeremy watched from the darkness. He saw Pete slumped against a planter, gasping for air. He saw Clark standing over the fountain, his chest heaving, looking down at his hands with a mixture of fear and confusion.
For a moment, Jeremy felt the urge to step out—to reveal that he knew Clark's secret, that they were two sides of the same coin. But the Emerald Shard in his pocket pulsed, a reminder of how Clark reacted to his presence. If he stepped forward, Clark would weaken, and the questions would start.
No, Jeremy thought, his eyes narrowing. Not yet.
Clark was a sun, and Jeremy was a moon—shining only with the light he stole from others. If he tried to take Clark's power now, he'd likely burn up like Jodi. He didn't want to be Clark Kent; he wanted to be the one who controlled the world that Clark was too afraid to touch.
Jeremy turned and vanished back into the mansion before Clark could even look toward the door. He moved with a newfound, chilling clarity.
He returned to the party, smoothing his suit and picking up two glasses of sparkling cider. He found Chloe by the staircase, exactly where he'd left her.
"Here," Jeremy said, handing her a glass with a warm, steady smile. "The 'Static' cleared up. I think everything is going to be quiet for the rest of the night."
"You're a lifesaver, Jeremy," Chloe said, taking a sip and looking at him with adoration.
"You have no idea," Jeremy replied.