Another day and another night end for Metropolis. And it is a miracle... days without destruction, days without death, days without a mega-monster attacking downtown... Without villains. Truly a miracle for all of us.
The news anchor cleared his throat, but his voice cracked at the end.
"We have suffered so much... and we lost loved ones. Even me. I miss her so much... my beautiful little girl..."
The man suddenly fell silent. He lowered his head, staring at his papers, and remained completely motionless, his shoulders trembling subtly under his formal suit.
Beside him, his co-anchor—a beautiful woman with flawless black hair—froze. A forced, rigid smile plastered onto her face as she looked into the camera. This was not in the script; no one had warned them that Tom was going to collapse live on air. With a quick, discreet movement beneath the desk, she muted her microphone and leaned toward her somber colleague.
"Damn it, Tom, this isn't in the script," she hissed through her teeth, driving a sharp elbow into his ribs. "The bosses are watching us on the monitor. Please don't cause trouble again..."
The man didn't hear her. He stood up abruptly from his chair, shoving the seat back with a screech that echoed through the speakers. He stared intently at the camera, his eyes bloodshot and filled with a terrifying intensity.
"Listen up, people! Right here and right now, I'm going to tell you the damn truth!" he roared, pointing his index finger at the lens. "All the destruction, the deaths of our children, fathers, mothers, grandchildren... The one responsible for all of it is Lex Luthor! Yes, Luthor himself. Every television channel was bought by that man, and do you know why? For what?!"
Tom slammed a furious fist against the studio's oak desk, causing the microphones to feed back with a high-pitched hum.
"All to defeat the Man of Steel! Our Metropolis hero... Superman! But why isn't Lex Luthor rotting in a prison cell? He spends a couple of weeks locked up and always gets out. And why is that? BECAUSE HE HAS CONNECTIONS WITH THE VERY PEOPLE WHO GOVERN US...!"
Pffft!
The screen flickered violently and the broadcast cut off abruptly, replaced by static color bars and the dull beep of "No Signal."
In the reflection of the appliance store's glass window, Enkidu blinked, his eyes wide with surprise. A regular, ordinary person had simply gotten fed up with Lex Luthor; he had spat out all the truth that had been rotting inside him.
"Damn it... why now?!" Enkidu grumbled, clenching his teeth. "He was just about to spill all the beans..."
He pressed his hand against the store's large window and struck it with a soft, frustrated punch, letting out a sigh of deep disappointment. His breath fogged the glass right where the anchor's face had been a moment ago.
"Well... at least people aren't that stupid," he thought, smirking faintly. "They still have common sense. That's a good thing... and dangerous at the same time."
He stepped away from the window with slow steps, noticing how the rest of the display TVs automatically switched channels. No more news. Now, the screens glowed with colorful commercials for household products and tech gadgets from LexCorp.
He turned around, shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn gray hoodie, and started walking while dragging his feet a bit, lost in thought.
"Days without destruction... What the hell is going on in this city?"
A bad feeling ran down his spine, leaving a bitter taste. He adjusted his hood, sinking deeper into his thoughts as he dodged the steady flow of pedestrians.
What if the villains are waiting for official confirmation? Proof that the Man of Steel is no longer in the city?
It had to be that. It was pure survival logic: the weakest cockroaches would be jumping for joy knowing that the great protector no longer patrolled the skies. Without a cat on guard, the mice start showing their claws.
He looked up over the sea of heads. Despite the dark secrets hidden within, Metropolis at night was still vibrant, active, packed with neon lights and an artificial cheer that he just couldn't bring himself to buy into.
Then, the cold air brought something else.
Enkidu stopped dead in his tracks. His nose wrinkled and his nostrils flared as he caught a delicious, warm, and painfully familiar aroma... Spiced roasted chicken.
His stomach rumbled so loudly that he instinctively pressed a hand against his abdomen. He turned his head to the right immediately, his eyes shining beneath the shadow of his hood. The smell came from a high-end restaurant: large polished windows, warm and dim lighting, and tables dressed in crisp white tablecloths where people in suits dined peacefully.
He glanced sideways at his faded gray hoodie and worn-out sneakers. He didn't fit in there.
"Just for a moment..." he justified himself in a low voice, swallowing hard as his feet moved on their own. "I just want to smell it a little closer."
He approached the restaurant.
He walked flush against the wall, creeping cautiously until he was inches from the restaurant's window. He placed a hand on the window frame, craning his neck like a stray cat stalking a butcher shop, closing his eyes for a second to let himself be intoxicated by the smell of real food...
He slowly opened his eyes, noticing that someone was looking at him...
...
.
.
...
Kara Zor-L...
I'm so bored on this date, I'd rather be fighting any villain. On top of that, he won't stop staring at my chest... God, I'd love to throw him straight into the sun, she thought.
She looked up while picking at her food; she was tired and bored. She listened to the man go on and on, talking endlessly about himself.
Kara rolled her eyes for the fifth time as she saw him pull out his gold phone once again.
"And this photo was taken when I posed with a very dangerous puma, but I wasn't scared for a single second. To me, it was just like a cute black cat... If you want, I could take you there sometime..."
The man, wearing a seductive smirk, took Kara's hand, which was still playing with her food using a fork. "I could show you around and give you a few tips on how to tame a puma. What do you say, sweetheart?"
Kara looked at the man. Her intense blue eyes locked onto him with absolute coldness, but the guy was so wrapped up in his own ego that he didn't even notice.
With a slow, blunt, and firm movement, Kara pulled her hand away from his, letting the fork drop onto the plate with a metallic clatter that instantly cut through the "romantic" mood. She crossed her arms, forcing him to meet her gaze instead of letting his eyes wander back down toward her clothes.
"Tips on how to tame a puma, 'sweetheart'?" Kara repeated, dragging her words out with relentless sarcasm. "How sweet of you to try. But believe me, I deal with insufferable bosses, demanding clients, and grueling work shifts every single day—a big cat isn't going to scare me. And your ego-driven speeches certainly won't either."
The man blinked, the seductive smirk freezing on his face. He tried to stammer a response, but Kara gave him no room to recover. She leaned forward slightly over the table, her expression hardening.
"And another thing. I know perfectly well what clothes I'm wearing, but if you're going to go out with me, you're going to look me in the face when I talk to you. You've been ignoring my eyes all night."
Without waiting for the guy to react, Kara stood up abruptly, grabbing her purse with a sharpness that made the glasses on the table wobble. The man instinctively cowered in his seat, intimidated by the sheer presence and imposing posture of the woman before him.
Kara opened her purse, pulled out enough cash to cover her share of the dinner, and dropped it disdainfully onto the table, right on top of the phone screen displaying the big cat's photo.
"I'm leaving. I'd a thousand times rather stay late working overtime on a Friday night than keep listening to your monologue..." The blonde snorted with contempt once more.
"Keep the change and buy yourself a personality."
She turned around and walked toward the restaurant exit with a firm stride, without looking back, mentally praying to the universe that some villain would attack the city right that second so she could punch something and get rid of the bad taste in her mouth...
She glanced toward one of the restaurant windows. Outside stood a hooded teenager; she noticed his skin was pale and his frame looked thin underneath his baggy clothes.
What is that kid staring at? Kara thought.
She followed the direction of the poor homeless kid's eyes and realized he was staring intently at a roasted chicken.
Just that? I should get him something to eat... she asked herself as she approached the restaurant door.
"Excuse me, ma'am. Are you leaving so soon?" asked a waiter who had been watching the disastrous date the entire time. His cheeks were red as a tomato, and he looked at her with the eyes of a completely smitten boy.
Kara didn't even slow down.
Meanwhile, with Enkidu:
Holy shit... That woman... Her hair, her face, and those huge melons... It's definitely her, he thought in a panic. Power Girl, the mature version of Supergirl... I need to get out of here right now, I don't want any trouble with her.
He moved away from the window quickly and, with a hurried pace, took off in the direction he needed to go.
Damn it, I can still feel that Kryptonian gaze, he thought, feeling a chill run down his spine as he lost himself in the crowd...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Kara huffed to blow away a strand of hair that had fallen over her forehead; her night was completely ruined.
She threw on a black leather jacket while picking up a food package handed to her by the waiter. She left the restaurant, exhausted and annoyed by how everything had turned out, and looked both ways searching for the hungry person.
"He was just here a moment ago... Now I won't be able to give him this food..." she thought in frustration, scanning the streets, but she couldn't find him anywhere...
End of chapter.