Look Up Part 1 (50->63k) (Patreon)

A young woman in a black cocktail dress stumbled out the side exit of the Eclipse Lounge, the bouncer's hand shoving her hard enough that she hit the pavement with a scrape on her knees. She had dark hair cut in a sharp bob that framed her face, blue eyes that flashed with anger, and a build that showed she took care of herself. The dress hugged her figure with thin straps, paired with heels she had worn to blend in.

She pushed herself up, brushing gravel off her palms as she glared at the bouncer who blocked the door. "Come on, big guy, you can't seriously throw me out for asking a few questions. I tipped the bartender well, tell your boss I'm just a curious girl. Let me back in, and we forget this happened."

The bouncer crossed his arms. "Out. Now. No press allowed."

She stepped closer with a smirk on her face. "Press? Who said anything about press? I'm off the clock tonight. Just a college kid wanting to see the VIP scene. You let worse in every night."

He shoved her again, harder, and she landed on the ground once more. "I said out."

She scrambled up, cursing under her breath. "Asshole. Real tough guy, huh? Picking on girls half your size."

The bouncer advanced, fist raised. "Keep talking, and you'll—"

"Slut!" People in the long queue outside the club laughed, some jeering as they watched. "Nice fall!" one guy shouted. Another threw an empty cup that bounced off her shoulder. Trash followed while the line hooted and filmed on phones.

She flipped them off, stomping away down the alley with her heels clicking angrily on the concrete. "Bunch of losers waiting hours for an overpriced drink. Enjoy your night!"

Once out of sight, she leaned against the wall, breathing hard as she pulled out a small notepad from her purse. This woman was Lois Lane, eighteen years old and a freshman at New York University in New York, she had come to Des Moines chasing a story she had pieced together during her internship at the Daily Planet. Disappearances across the Midwest, young women mostly, some men, which were linked by last sightings near high-end clubs like Eclipse. She had flown in on a budget ticket, checked into a cheap motel, and spent weeks digging through police reports and tips that pointed here. She had snuck in earlier with a fake ID, chatted up a few people, but security spotted her notepad and dragged her out before she reached the VIP area.

Lois muttered to herself as she flipped pages in the notepad. "Not giving up that easy. There's a story here, I feel it."

She kicked off her heels, stuffing them in her purse, and looked up at the building's back wall. The back would be guarded and the fire escape too obvious, but there was a ledge and some pipes that looked scalable, though she used that in the most technical possible way. "I've done rock climbing in gym class. I can do this." She started climbing, her fingers first gripping the brick edges while her bare feet found holds. Halfway up, she realized how stupid it was, when her dress started moving up and flashing her lace panties. "Great idea, Lois. Real smart," she murmured to herself as she kept climbing. 

But she kept going, talking herself up under her breath. "Come on, you got this. Not letting some bouncer stop me."

She reached for the next hold, but her foot slipped on a patch of ice, and she fell... only to land softly on the roof, ten metres up from where she had fallen. She rolled to her feet, confused, looking around the empty space.

"You usually make a habit out of scaling buildings in a cocktail dress, or did I just catch you on a particularly bad night."

Lois spun around fast and nearly lost her footing again, her foot scraping against the stone as she staggered back and threw her hands out to keep her balance. She locked eyes with him and immediately recognised who it was, how couldn't she when he was in the news everyday. "Do not come any closer," she shouted. "If you touch me in any way you are finished, and I am not bluffing. My editor knows exactly where I am tonight, I have scheduled emails that go out automatically if I miss a single check in, I have audio recordings already uploaded to the cloud, and if anything happens to me then all of it goes public. Names, files, patterns, everything. I know what you people are, and I am done pretending otherwise."

Superman stopped where he stood and raised both hands slowly trying to show her he wasn't a threat. "Okay, slow down," he said. "I am not here to hurt you. I only stepped in because you slipped, if I hadnt been there you would have fallen several stories straight onto concrete."

Lois backed up another step anyway and folded her arms across her chest. "That sounds very noble," she said sarcastically. "But I am not interested in speeches or that small town charm routine you like to lean on. Cut the bullshit and tell me what you want? I know you wouldn't save me unless you had an angle."

He blinked and stared at her for a second like he was honestly trying to catch up with the direction the conversation had taken. "My angle," he repeated slowly with a bit of confusion as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't have one. I was on the roof, I heard someone climbing, and I came to check it out. That is it."

She studied his face for a long moment, clearly looking for cracks in the act. "Do not play dumb with me," Lois said, her voice lower now but no less intense. "People like you always have a reason, and it is never as altruistic as you claim it is. Nobody puts on a cape without expecting something in return."

"I really am not playing anything," he replied, shaking his head. "I help people when I can because it is the right thing to do, that is all there is to it. But I am genuinely curious why a woman is climbing the outside of a nightclub instead of walking through the front door."

She shifted her weight and crossed her arms tighter. "I asked you a question first."

He let out a breath and nodded. "That is fair," he said. "But considering I just stopped you from falling to your death, I think it is reasonable to ask for an answer."

Lois hesitated for a moment, for some reason she believed this superman was as genuine as he made himself out to be which was ridiculous as she knew for sure that all heroes were monsters. For some reason she felt that he wasn't so in the end, she decided to be honest with him. "I am investigating this club," she said. "There have been disappearances tied to it, and every time I pull on the thread it leads back here."

That changed something in his expression, and his eyes widened slightly. "Disappearances," he repeated. "Does one of those missing people happen to be a woman named Lily."

Lois pulled her notepad from where it was tucked in her breasts and noticed with satisfaction how he immediately turned his head away when he realized where she had been keeping it. She smirked as she flipped it open. "No Lily on my list so far," she said, scanning the pages. "Why do you ask."

"Her sister came to me for help," he said. "She went missing a few weeks ago and the last solid lead pointed directly to this place."

Lois stopped writing and looked up at him again, interest overriding suspicion for a moment. "That is new information," she said. "But it fits with what I have been finding."

He nodded. "Someone tried to kill her aswell, she had been asking around for help with her sister, which was how I met her, later that night someone tried to assassinate her," he added. 

Lois's jaw tightened. "Bulletstorm," she said without hesitation.

"Yes," he replied. "Him."

"The same hero you turned in last month," she said. "The one whose arrest was buried under a press release about excessive force and a medical leave, according to vought he's on vacation to assist with his mental well-being."

"He attacked a civilian, and he did it purposely he even tried to kill me," Clark said sourly. 

"I believe you," Lois said. "But this makes the situation a lot worse than I thought. I was operating under the assumption that this was standard trafficking, criminal networks and money laundering. Heroes being involved pushes it into a whole different category."

Clark frowned deeply. "Trafficking and heroes do not belong in the same sentence," he said. "There are bad actors, sure, but an organized system like that does not make sense, a hero wouldn't be involved in something like that."

"It makes perfect sense," Lois shot back. "They have power, influence, legal protection, and corporate backing. Vought owns the entire industry, and they clean up messes before anyone can even see them, they basically have reign to do whatever they want."

"Not all of us are like that," he said. "I don't try to take advantage of the system, I help people because it is right."

"And who decides what right looks like," she shot back. "The system you work in protects brands and investments, not people."

"I know Vought does shady things," Clark said. "But that does not mean everyone is bad. Most people who become heroes do it because they want to help. They see people getting hurt and they step in. That has to count for something."

Lois shook her head slowly. "No," she said. "It really does not. In this world, intention means nothing. I have watched heroes hurt people and walk away smiling while lawyers cleaned it up. I have read reports that were rewritten before they ever left the building. This is not a few mistakes. This is how the whole thing works."

"But they save lives," Clark said. "Even if a lot of it is scripted... we inspire hope... we show people there is a better way."

"That's all propaganda and does not cancel out the damage heroes cause," Lois replied. "They get away with things no one else could even dream of. They lie, they abuse power, and they know nothing will happen to them. That protection applies to all of them, including you."

Clark frowned, clearly struggling with that. "I just do not believe most of them are evil," he said. "I think a lot of them are just flawed people in a bad system."

"And I think the system turns flawed people into monsters," Lois said. "You do not get this much power and stay good. Vought makes sure of that."

"Power doesn't make you corrupt, I believe that, it's how you use the power... I refuse to believe that everyone is as corrupt as you say." Clark said resolutely. 

Finally she threw her hands up.

"Enough," she said. "Let's go inside and see what is really happening, maybe then you'll finally see the truth."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Fine."

They crossed the roof together. Lois grabbed the door handle and found it locked, then stepped aside. "Your turn to be useful."

"I literally saved you a minute ago..." Clark walked over and pushed it open with one hand, the metal bending under the pressure, and held it as they stepped into the stairwell.

"I'm Superman," he said after a moment offering out his hand to her. 

"I know, I'm Lois Lane," she replied shaking his hand. "Daily Planet intern, but soon to be full time reporter after I crack this story wide open." She added before they both stepped into the narrow stairwell that led down from the roof into the Eclipse Lounge. The air inside felt warmer and stuffier than outside, carrying faint echoes of bass-heavy music that thumped through the walls as they descended. Clark walked ahead at first, his cape brushing against the steps while Lois followed close behind in her bare feet, her heels still tucked in her purse.

Halfway down, Clark stopped suddenly and turned to her. "Hold on a second," he said. "I need to change something before we go in."

Lois raised an eyebrow and leaned against the wall. "Change what?"

"The costume," he replied. "If anyone spots me in the full suit then word will get back to Silver Sentinel, and I can't risk that right now. Wait here for a minute."

Before she could respond, he blurred away in a rush of air that ruffled her hair and made her dress flutter. Lois blinked and braced herself against the railing, muttering under her breath about how unfair super powers felt sometimes. Less than thirty seconds later, Clark reappeared at the bottom of the stairs. He wore the leather jacket and leather pants from the new outfit the design team had pushed on him, but he left the biker goggles off and covered the S symbol on his chest with the jacket zipped halfway up. A simple black mask now hid the upper part of his face, leaving his mouth and jaw exposed. He looked more like a mysterious street level super than the famous hero everyone saw on TV.

Lois looked him up and down and smirked. "Kinky."

Clark's face turned bright red instantly, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm underage," he shot back, though his voice came out a little flustered.

Lois laughed and pushed off the wall to walk down the remaining steps toward him. "Dude, you're like six feet tall. How am I supposed to know?"

Clark cracked a smile despite himself and shook his head. "Fair point. Come on, let's get this over with."

They reached the door at the bottom that opened into the club, and Lois paused to give him some quick advice before they stepped through. "Listen, since we're going in together, we need to blend in and avoid getting kicked out right away. That means you have to act like a bit of a dick and show off some of those powers. These places cater to egos, especially supes who think they own the room. If you come off too nice or polite, they'll just kick you out or try and take advantage in some way."

Clark frowned and shifted his weight. "I don't know if I want to do that. Acting rude on purpose feels wrong, and showing off just to get in seems like a misuse of my powers."

Lois put a hand on his arm and met his eyes. "I get it, but they'll boot us out pretty fast if you don't. They already saw me in here earlier and tossed me out once. If we walk in looking like regular people trying to sneak around, we're done before we start. Just play the part for a little while."

Clark thought about it for a moment, staring at the door while he considered her words. He hated the idea, but she had a point, and they needed answers about Lily and the other victims. Finally, he nodded. "Okay. I'll try."

Lois gave him an encouraging smile, and they pushed through the door into the club. The main floor immediately hit them with a wall of noise and lights as soon as they stepped in. Music pounded from massive speakers that lined the walls, and colored strobes flashed across the crowded dance floor where hundreds of people moved together. Bodies pressed close, grinding against each other while they held drinks that spilled over the edges of glasses. Tables along the sides overflowed with bottles and buckets of ice, and groups laughed loudly as they poured shots for one another. Waitresses in sexy outfits weaved through the crowd carrying trays loaded with glowing cocktails, and men at the bar shouted orders over the music. Couples, or sometimes more than couples, disappeared into darker corners where hands wandered freely under tables or against walls. The air smelled thick with sweat and alcohol and perfume that mixed together into something overwhelming, especially for Clark who has incredibly enhanced senses.

Clark stopped just inside the entrance and stared around with wide eyes. He had never seen a place like this before in his life. Back in Smallville, gatherings meant barn dances or county fairs where everyone kept things tame and friendly. This felt chaotic and very inappropriate, with strangers touching and shouting and losing themselves in ways that made his cheeks heat up again.

Lois noticed his reaction and reached over to take his hand firmly in hers. "Hey, don't lose focus," she said close to his ear so he could hear her over the music. "We're here for work, remember? Eyes on the goal."

He squeezed her hand back and nodded, forcing himself to look away from the dance floor. "Right. Sorry."

She led him through the crowd toward the long bar that ran along one wall, where bartenders juggled bottles and poured drinks nonstop. Lois leaned on the counter and flagged one down, a guy with slicked-back hair and tattoos peeking from his sleeves. He spotted her immediately and scowled. "How the hell did you get back in here?" he snapped. "I'm calling security again right now."

Lois leaned in closer and flashed a flirty smile. "Relax, handsome. I'm here with my man now." She pressed herself against Clark's side, wrapping an arm around his waist for emphasis.

Clark's face went red all over again from the sudden closeness, but he stood there and tried to play along.

The bartender shifted his annoyed glare to Clark and looked him over. "Never seen you before. You on the list or what?"

Clark took a few seconds to compose himself and shake off the embarrassment. He spotted a guy nearby waiting for his drink, reached over without warning, snatched the glass right out of the man's hand, and shoved the guy hard enough to send him sprawling onto the floor. The man hit the ground with a thud and stared up in shock.

Clark brought the stolen drink to his lips, blew on it gently with a quick puff of freeze breath that turned the liquid icy cold in seconds, and then downed the drink. "Get a drink for her now," he said rudely to the bartender. "Or do we have a problem?"

The bartender's face went pale, and he backed up a step with his hands raised. "No problem, man. Sorry I didn't realise you were a supe. It's Coming right up." He apologized quickly and scrambled to mix whatever Lois pointed at.

Lois watched the whole thing with her mouth slightly open, then turned to Clark once the bartender turned away. She looked shocked but impressed. "Damn. That was good acting."

Clark glanced down at the guy still on the floor, who rubbed his shoulder and muttered as he got up. Guilt hit Clark hard. "I feel bad about it," he admitted quietly. "I think I should apologize to that guy later."

Lois giggled and patted his arm. "Leave it for tonight. You have to act like a self-entitled arrogant hero right now."

The bartender came back fast with her drink, sliding it over carefully. Lois picked it up and downed the whole thing in one go, setting the empty glass down with a satisfied sigh. She grabbed Clark's hand again and pulled him away from the bar toward the packed dance floor. "Come on." They pushed into the crowd, where bodies swayed and bumped around them. Lois started moving to the music trying to blend in, pulling Clark along so they pretended to dance together. She stayed close, one hand on his shoulder while she scanned the room over his arm.

"See that roped-off section up those stairs?" she said into his ear, pointing subtly with her free hand. "That's the VIP area. The managers' office is back there too. That's where we need to get in. But VIP is usually for heroes and really famous celebrities, so hopefully you can get us both access."

Clark nodded and glanced toward the stairs where bouncers stood guard. "Got it. I'll take the lead."

"What do you mean take the—"

Lois squeaked in surprise when Clark pulled her close suddenly, wrapping an arm around her waist and starting to walk her through the crowd toward the VIP entrance. She stumbled a step but kept up as he guided her confidently. They approached the bottom of the stairs where several large bouncers stood behind a velvet rope. One stepped forward with a clipboard. "Names? You on the list?"

Clark laughed obnoxiously right in the man's face, loud enough that people nearby turned to look. "Does it look like I need to be on the list?"

The bouncer frowned and glanced at Lois. "Boss kicked that woman out earlier. She needs to leave."

One of the other bouncers reached for her arm to pull her away, but Clark moved faster. He grabbed the guy by the front of his shirt and lifted him clean off the ground with one hand, holding him up effortlessly.

"Did I say you could touch her?" Clark asked in a threatening tone.

The bouncer's feet dangled, and his face went white as he stammered. The others froze and raised their hands, apologizing quickly. "Shit Sorry, man! Please we didn't know you were a supe, listen there's no problem, go on up."

Clark dropped the guy onto the floor where he landed with a grunt, then walked past the rope with Lois still on his arm. The bouncers parted fast and let them through without another word. Lois waited until they reached the midway point on the staircase before she leaned in. "Nice work again on the acting. You're selling it."

Clark stopped there and leaned against the railing, rubbing his forehead for a second. "I need a break."

Lois turned to him with concern. "What's wrong?"

He took a deep breath and looked down at the club below. "I hate using my powers like that," he admitted. "Acting horrible to people, scaring people, shoving guys around. I hate the way everyone looked at me down there, like I was some bully who gets away with anything. It feels wrong."

Lois softened and put a hand on his arm. She realized in that moment that Superman really was just a genuine guy who really wanted to be a hero. "Hey, I'm sorry for putting you in this situation," she said gently. "But we need to get up there to find answers. Can you tough it out a little longer?"

Clark closed his eyes for a second and nodded. "People are in danger," he said resolutely. "I'll do whatever I can to save them."

Lois squeezed his arm and smiled. "Good. Let's go hero."

Clark nodded and they headed up the rest of the stairs into the VIP section, where the door opened into a large lounge. The space felt entirely separate from the main club below, with thicker carpet under their feet and walls that blocked most of the music from downstairs. Clark stepped in first and stopped short as he took in everything around him, while Lois came up beside him and kept her hand on his arm.

The room overflowed with people who indulged in every way imaginable. Men and women lay across wide couches and tables with clothes pulled off or pushed aside, bodies moving together in open view as hands grabbed and mouths pressed against skin. Several heroes mingled among the crowd, many of them used their powers while they engaged in sex. One man with electric powers sent sparks across a woman's body as he thrust into her from behind, and she arched her back while the sparks made her skin glow faintly. Another hero known for super speed blurred in and out of position with two partners at once, switching between them faster than anyone could track. A woman who could stretch her limbs wrapped them around a group on the floor, holding multiple people close while they touched her everywhere. Bottles of expensive liquor sat on every table, and lines of white powder lay ready on mirrors that people passed around freely. Some heroes inhaled deeply and then exhaled smoke that formed shapes in the air before they leaned down to kiss or lick partners who waited.

Clark recognized several faces, heroes who appeared on television talking about family values and faith. One man who often spoke at churches about abstinence had a woman on her knees in front of him, her head moving back and forth while he held her hair and drank from a bottle. Another hero who ran youth programs stood nearby with his pants around his ankles, thrusting into a waitress bent over a table while he laughed with friends who watched. Clark stared in disbelief as he realized how many of them preached restraint in public yet participated fully here.

Waitresses moved through the room in outfits that left little covered, carrying trays of drinks and drugs. Anyone could reach out and pull one close, and many did. Some women smiled and went willingly, pressing against customers who groped them openly. Others looked reluctant, eyes darting away while hands forced them down or held them in place. A few winced in pain as stronger grips left marks on their arms or thighs, Clark knew that it was because even heroes without strength related powers still possessed far more power than normal people, which made resistance impossible for the women.

Clark tensed and took a step forward, ready to intervene where he saw clear signs of distress. Lois put a hand flat on his chest and stopped him before he could move farther. "I know how this looks and I'm sorry that you have to find out this way," she said quietly, "but we have to stay focused."

Clark struggled against her hand, his eyes locked on a waitress who tried to pull away from a hero who held her wrist too tightly. "There are people who need help right in front of me," he said. "How can I not do something when they're hurting?"

Lois kept her hand on his chest and leaned in closer so he could hear her over the moans and laughter. "If you start a fight now, this place will keep going tomorrow and the day after and we'll get kicked out or worse, and no one finds out what's really happening with the disappearances. But once we crack open the trafficking ring, we can bring evidence that shuts everything down for good, including this room."

Clark breathed heavily and looked around again, his fists clenched at his sides while he wrestled with the urge to act immediately. He saw another woman on the floor who rubbed her arm where bruises already formed, and his jaw tightened. Lois waited patiently until he finally nodded, though reluctance showed in every line of his face. "Okay," he said. "We'll get the information first."

Lois removed her hand and gave him a small nod before she started scanning the room again. "Good. Now help me spot the manager's office. It has to be back here somewhere."

Clark shifted his focus and activated his x-ray vision, peering through walls and partitions until he located a door at the far end behind a curtained area. The room beyond sat empty, with a desk covered in papers and a computer that was turned on. "Over there," he said, tilting his head toward the corner. "Past that group on the couches. It's empty right now."

They started moving in that direction, weaving between clusters of people who paid them little attention. Halfway across the lounge, a hero stepped directly in front of them, completely naked and visibly aroused. Clark recognized him as the mid-tier supe Crackpunch who did regional appearances around the Midwest. The man grinned as his eyes landed on Lois.

"Hey, beautiful," the hero said, reaching out to trail fingers down her arm. "You look like you could use some company. Ditch the boyfriend and come play."

Lois tensed but kept her expression neutral. Clark moved faster and stepped between them. "Back up, friend," Clark said firmly. "She's mine."

The hero laughed and looked Clark over, not deterred at all. He gestured toward the floor where a woman lay passed out against a cushion, clothes disheveled and marks visible on her neck, as she shivered. "Fine, take her instead. I left her warmed up for the next guy."

Anger surged through Clark, and he grabbed the hero's arm, squeezing hard enough that the man jumped and lost his erection instantly. The hero yelped in pain and tried to pull away, face twisting in sudden fear. "Get out of our way," Clark said through gritted teeth.

The hero nodded quickly and backed off, muttering curses as he stumbled toward another group. Clark released him and watched until the man disappeared into the crowd.

Lois exhaled and touched Clark's arm. "Thanks. I hate being in here. I'm sticking close to you from now on."

Clark nodded and kept her near as they continued toward the office. His eyes widened again when he spotted someone familiar across the room. Alex sat on a couch with two women on their knees in front of him, both taking turns with their mouths while he leaned back and drank straight from a bottle of champagne. Empty glasses and bottles cluttered the table beside him, and he laughed loudly as the women worked.

Clark grabbed Lois's hand and urged her onward faster. "Keep moving," he said quietly. "I don't want him recognizing me."

Lois glanced over but followed without questions, and they reached the curtained area that led to the manager's office. A door stood there with a lock that looked reinforced. Clark stepped up casually and punched his fingers straight through the mechanism, metal crunching under the pressure until the lock gave way. He pulled the broken pieces out and pushed the door open, holding it for Lois as they both slipped inside and closed it behind them.

Lois moved straight to the computer on the desk as soon as they slipped inside the office, and sat down in the chair while she wiggled the mouse to wake the screen. Clark closed the door behind them as quietly as he could and started looking around the room, taking in the details while he stayed alert for any sounds from outside.

Photos covered one whole wall, frames lined up in rows that showed the manager shaking hands with different heroes over the years. Clark stepped closer and studied them, recognizing faces from news stories and old team lineups. Several pictures featured the original Young Americans group from decades ago, all of them smiling in their costumes while they posed with the manager at events. Silver Sentinel appeared in multiple shots, standing next to the manager with an arm around his shoulder in one and holding a plaque in another. Clark lingered on those for a moment, a knot forming in his stomach as he realized how long the manager had connections in the hero world.

He turned away from the wall and checked the filing cabinets along the side, pulling open a drawer to flip through folders quickly. Lois cursed under her breath from the desk, and Clark walked over to see what happened.

"You okay?" he asked, leaning over her shoulder.

She sighed and pointed at the screen, where a password prompt blinked. "Locked out. Of course it is. I was hoping for an easy win."

Clark watched as she started opening drawers in the desk, rummaging through papers and pens while she searched for any hint about the password. She pulled out notepads and sticky notes, scanning them for words or numbers that might work.

While she did that, Clark focused on the keyboard in front of her. He activated his super vision and examined the keys closely, noticing which ones showed more wear from frequent use. The letters E, A, S, T, R, I, N, O, L, P, C and numbers 1, 2, 3, 0 stood out with faint smudges and smoother surfaces compared to the others. He pieced together common words from those letters and numbers, coming up with possibilities like "eastern," "asteroid," "saint123," and "eclipse0."

Before Lois finished checking the last drawer, Clark leaned in and typed at super speed, fingers blurring as he entered the combinations one after another. The first three failed with error messages, but the fourth one, "eclipse1," unlocked the desktop with a soft chime.

Lois heard the sound and looked up from the drawer she rummaged through, her eyes widening in surprise as the screen filled with icons and folders. She turned to Clark and smirked. "Damn. I might have to keep you around if you're this useful."

Clark felt his face heat up, and he rubbed the back of his neck while he looked away bashfully. "It was nothing. Just noticed the worn keys."

Lois shook her head with a grin and turned back to the computer, clicking through folders and drives while she searched for anything useful. Clark stood behind her and watched over her shoulder as she opened files and scanned documents.

They dug deeper into the system, finding folders labeled with dates and names that listed payments and shipments. Lois opened one and scrolled through spreadsheets that detailed offers made to men and women for waitress or waiter positions at the Eclipse Lounge. The offers promised large amounts of money, sometimes tens of thousands upfront, with promises of steady work and tips. These offers were fake and the people who arrived vanished soon after, routed through the club before trafficked across the world.

Lois clicked into another directory and found hundreds of individual files, each one containing photos, personal details, and tracking information for people taken over the years. Names filled the screen with ages, hometowns, and dates of acquisition, along with final destinations listed as ports or private airfields in different countries around the world. Some files marked sales to buyers overseas, while others noted transfers to facilities that handled further distribution. The scale hit them both as they realized the Eclipse Lounge operated as one hub in a larger network that moved people like products.

They kept going through the files, cross-referencing names and dates until Lois paused on one and leaned closer to the screen. Clark looked and felt anger and sadness surge through him when he saw the name at the top.

Lily Renfield.

Her photo stared back from the file, taken recently with details about her arrival at the club weeks ago under the fake waitress offer. Notes showed she resisted at first, and the file listed injuries from restraint along with a transfer scheduled soon to a buyer in Eastern Europe.

Clark leaned forward and gripped the back of the chair. "Where are they sending them from here?" he asked. "There has to be a processing area before transport."

Lois nodded and started searching again, pulling up maps and logistics folders until she found references to a warehouse just outside Des Moines. Addresses and schedules appeared, detailing drop-offs and pickups that matched the files they already saw. "That's it," she said, plugging in a memory stick and starting the download of everything they found. Files copied over while she kept an eye on the progress bar.

Clark tilted his head and heard footsteps approaching down the hall. "Someone's coming," he whispered urgently. "Hurry up."

Lois glanced at the bar, which still showed minutes left. "I can't make a computer go faster," she hissed back.

The door handle turned, and Clark grabbed Lois around the waist, flying straight up to the ceiling where he held them both pressed flat against it in the shadows. The manager walked in with two security guards, flipping on the brighter light as he looked around.

One guard checked behind the desk and under it. "Room's clear, sir."

The manager cursed and kicked at the broken door pieces on the floor. "Must've been one of those fucking supes again. Breaking my fucking door. Go back down and herd them away from here. This is the third time it's been broken this month."

"Yes, sir," the guards said together and left quickly.

The manager walked toward the computer, muttering as he approached the desk.

Lois whispered up to Clark, "He'll see the download if he sits down."

Clark nodded and aimed a gentle puff of breath at a stack of papers on a nearby cabinet. The air hit them just right, sending sheets flying everywhere across the floor.

The manager paused and cursed louder before he bent down to start picking them up one by one.

Clark watched the download bar hit complete, then zoomed down in a blur, ejecting the stick and shutting off the computer before the manager even looked up. He shot back to the ceiling with Lois in his arms and waited until the manager finished gathering papers and left the room. Once the door closed, Clark flew them out through a side window he opened quietly and landed on the roof of the adjacent building.

Lois breathed heavily as soon as her feet touched solid ground, bending over with hands on her knees while she threw up onto the gravel. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and straightened up slowly. "That was crazy," she said. "Flying like that without warning? My stomach didn't sign up for it."

She wobbled a step, almost losing balance on the roof, but Clark caught her arm and steadied her. "Sorry," he said. "I had to move fast. You okay?"

Lois waved it off and stood straighter. "I'll live. Did you get the stick?"

Clark nodded and pulled it from his pocket, handing it over. "Everything's on there."

Lois took it and smiled wide as she held it up. "This is it. I'm gonna crack this thing wide open."

Clark thought for a moment and put a hand on her shoulder. "I need you to wait on publishing it."

She looked at him with confusion. "Why?"

He met her eyes seriously. "We don't know what happens to the women in that warehouse when this goes public. They might get killed to cover their tracks if the people running it panic."

Lois hesitated and stared at the stick for a long second before she nodded slowly. "Yeah. You're right. So what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to the warehouse," he said. "Free everyone there first."

Lois put a hand on his arm. "That could be dangerous. You don't know how many guards or what kind of setup they have."

Clark smiled and covered her hand with his. "Thanks for the concern, but I'll be fine. I have some friends I can ask for help."

Lois raised an eyebrow. "You sure about these friends? That they're not like every other hero in there?"

Clark nodded firmly. "They're real heroes who want to help people. I trust them."

Lois looked skeptical but gave him the benefit of the doubt after a moment. "Okay. Give me your phone." He pulled it out and handed it over. She typed quickly and saved her number.

"We should keep in touch," she said, giving it back. "And if you find more evidence at the warehouse, grab it for me."

Clark agreed and pocketed the phone. "Will do."

Lois smiled at him genuinely and stepped closer. "Thanks for helping tonight. I lost faith in heroes a long time ago, but you're different... you really are a hero."

She hugged him tightly, arms around his neck while he hugged back carefully. "Keep in touch," she said into his shoulder.

"I will," he promised. "Do you need me to give you a lift anywhere?" 

Lois laughed. "After that flight? I've had enough flying for one day. I'll grab a cab, see ya later hero." She started walking towards the roof exit waving at him as she did. 

Clark smiled one last time. "Lois Lane," he muttured to himself as he watched her leave, when she was gone he shot off into the air, heading back toward the Young Americans headquarters while the city lights faded below him.

...

 Clark flew back to the Young Americans building under the cover of night, where he slowed his approach so that he could avoid drawing attention from anyone who might still linger outside. He landed quietly on the rooftop landing pad, and took a moment to listen with his super hearing for any activity inside the structure before he headed toward the access door. The building sat mostly silent at this hour, though he picked up faint conversations from staff in the lower levels. Clark pushed through the door and descended the stairs into the main corridors, where he activated his x-ray vision to scan through walls and floors for Annie and Maria.

He located Annie first in her quarters on the third floor, where she sat on her bed with a book open in her lap. Maria appeared in the gym two levels below, where she ran on a treadmill with headphones over her ears as she stared at a screen mounted on the wall. Clark decided to gather them in the recreation room, which offered privacy at this time of night, he headed there first to wait. He sent quick texts to both of them from the couch in the lounge, asking them to meet him urgently without explaining why.

Annie arrived within minutes, still in her pajamas with her hair tied back, she closed the door behind her while she looked at Clark with concern. "Clark, what's going on? It's late, and you texted like something the world was about to explode."

Maria showed up shortly after, wiping sweat from her face with a towel draped over her shoulders, she tossed her gym bag onto a chair as she sat down. "Yeah, dude, i have to I keep this bod in shape you know? This better be important."

Clark leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and looked at them both. "It is important," he said. "I need to talk to you about something I found out tonight, and I couldn't wait until morning."

Annie crossed her arms and leaned back against the cushions while she waited for him to continue. "Okay, we're listening. What happened?"

Clark took a deep breath and started from the beginning, explaining how he had gone to the Eclipse Lounge. He told them about the investigation he had done, the depravity they had witnessed in the VIP section, and the files he had uncovered on the manager's computer that detailed a human trafficking operation running through the club. He described the hundreds of profiles they had found, each one documenting people who had been lured with fake job offers and then kidnapped for shipment to buyers around the world. "It's bigger than we thought," he said. "The Eclipse is just one spot in a network, and I found out where they're holding a lot of the victims right now, in a warehouse outside Des Moines."

Maria's eyes widened as she processed his words, and she shook her head quickly. "Whoa, hold up. This sounds way too serious. We should tell Silver Sentinel about it, or at least call the police and let them handle the raid. They have the resources for something like this."

Clark shook his head and leaned back while he met her gaze. "No, I don't want to involve anyone else until the people in there are safe. If we tip off the wrong person, they might move everyone or even kill them before we can act. I'll tell Silver Sentinel but I'll do it once we've got them out."

Maria leaned forward and gestured with her hands as she tried to convince him. "Clark, think about it. Silver Sentinel knows how to coordinate this stuff, and the police are trained for stuff like this. Going in alone is reckless, and if something goes wrong, it blows back on all of us."

Clark listened to her points but stayed firm in his decision. "I hear you, but this is why I'm here tonight," he said. "I want you two to come with me. We can handle this together, get those people out, and then bring in the authorities."

Maria stared at him for a moment and then shook her head again. "I know that we are friends but there's no way. I can't risk getting in trouble over this. If we get caught going rogue, it's my spot on the team gone, and everything I've worked for disappears. You shouldn't go either. Let the pros deal with it."

Clark's expression hardened slightly as he replied. "We are the pros and this is real hero work, Maria. We can't leave them there to be sent across the world and essentially enslaved. People are suffering right now, and we have the power to stop it."

Maria stood up and paced a few steps while she ran a hand through her hair. "Annie, talk some sense into him," she said. "Tell him this is crazy."

Annie had stayed quiet the entire time, sitting with her hands clasped in her lap while she listened to the back-and-forth. She looked at Clark now. "This worries me too much, Clark. Saving one person is something we can handle, but dozens of people in a warehouse? We should get other heroes involved. We're only kids, even if we are heroes. What if we mess up, or something we don't expect? We could get people killed."

Clark sighed deeply and got up from the couch, standing with his hands in his pockets while he looked at them both. "I understand where you're coming from," he said, "but I wanted to be a hero so that I could help people who need it most, and I won't stop until they're free. If that means going alone, then that's what I'll do."

He paused and glanced between them, disappointment clear in his voice. "I thought you two would see it the same way," he added quietly.

Maria stopped pacing and pointed at him. "You're an idiot," she said sharply before she grabbed her gym bag and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Annie stood up slowly and walked over to him, placing a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, Clark," she said. "I just can't right now." She gave him a quick hug and then followed Maria out, leaving Clark alone in the recreation room.

Clark sat back down on the couch and buried his face in his hands for a moment, sadness washing over him and for a moment he started doubting himself, but after a while he shook his head. He was doing the right thing. He had believed they shared the same drive to help no matter the cost, but now he saw the limits they had. He decided then that he would do this by himself, no matter how hard it turned out. He got up and headed for the door, but as soon as he stepped into the corridor, he ran into Silver Sentinel who walked toward him from the opposite direction.

Silver Sentinel stopped and looked at Clark with a raised eyebrow. "Superman," he said. "Up late tonight. Everything alright?"

Clark nodded quickly and forced a neutral expression. "Yeah, just couldn't sleep," he replied. "Figured I'd grab a snack or something."

Silver Sentinel studied him for a second but then smiled and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Good, because I wanted to talk to you about some opportunities that are coming up," he said. "I've been working on a joint operation between The Seven and The Young Americans. It's all set now, this is going to be a huge event, one that the whole world is going to want to watch because this is how you and Homelander are going to be introduced to each other officially."

Clark nodded along. "That sounds great," he said.

Silver Sentinel continued with details. "The operation involves a staged takedown of a criminal group in the city, nothing too dangerous but high visibility for the cameras. You'll team up with Homelander on the front lines, show the public how the generations connect. Meet me in the briefing room tomorrow at nine sharp, and we'll go over the plan."

Clark nodded again and shifted his weight slightly. "Got it. I'll be there."

Silver Sentinel frowned for a moment. "Are you sure you're okay? He asked. 

Clark nodded a little quicker than he usually did. "Yeah I feel fine, I'm super excited for tomorrow. 

Silver Sentinel paused for a moment before he gave him another pat on the shoulder and walked past toward his office. "Get some rest," he called back. "Big day ahead."

Clark waited until Silver Sentinel turned the corner before he moved quickly down the hall, slipping out through a side exit that led to the rooftop. He launched into the air without hesitation, flying out of Des Moines and heading toward the warehouse.

It didn't take brfor he was over the outskirts of Des Moines, where the city gave way to darker stretches of industrial zones and empty lots. He used his super vision to scan ahead, spotting the warehouse from miles away as it matched the address from the files. The building sat isolated behind a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire with trucks parked in the lot. He landed quietly outside the perimeter and crouched behind a rock face, listening with his super hearing for voices or movements.

Inside, he heard muffled cries from dozens of people, along with orders barked by men who patrolled the halls. Clark tried to look inside the building but he struggled, it seemed parts of the building contained lead in its walls which threw his x-ray vision off and made it difficult to focus on the inside. But based on what he could hear, they're at least over two dozen people inside. He guessed thise were guards based on the fact they were walking around.

"Okay let's do this..." he said to himself. 

He moved forward at super speed, blurring past the fence and through an unguarded side door that he forced open silently. Clark then flew up and stuck to the shadows inside the warehouse hallway, pressing his back against the ceiling while he listened for the next set of footsteps. The place smelled like rust mixed with sweat and something worse that turned his stomach. Guards passed underneath every few minutes, boots clomping on the concrete while they muttered shit to each other about shifts ending soon or how much they hated the night watch.

He followed the muffled cries that grew louder the deeper he went, flying along the ceiling until he reached a set of double doors at the end of the main corridor. The doors stood cracked open just enough for him to slip through without touching them. As he looked around he saw that the whole space looked like some assembly line... but for people. Rows of metal cages lined the walls, each one barely big enough for a grown adult to crouch in, stacked three high with barely any room between them. Inside the cages, naked men and women huddled sat alone, skin covered in bruises, cuts, and dried blood. Some had open wounds that looked infected, pus leaking from gashes on their arms or legs. Others stared blankly at the floor with hollow eyes, bodies so thin that ribs stuck out like they hadn't eaten in weeks. A few rocked back and forth, muttering to themselves while tears ran down their faces.

In the center of the room, long metal tables sat under lights where workers in masks and gloves scrubbed new arrivals with rough brushes and hoses. The water ran red and brown into drains on the floor as they hosed off dirt, blood, and shit from people who barely reacted anymore. One guy on the table twitched when the cold water hit an open wound on his back, but he didn't even scream, just let out a weak groan. Nearby, a woman fought weakly as two workers forced her legs apart to shave her, her body shaking from the cold while she begged them to stop in a voice that came out hoarse from screaming too much.

Piles of discarded clothes sat in corners, torn and stained, next to buckets that overflowed with vomit and waste. IV bags hung from poles next to some cages, dripping fluids into arms that looked track-marked from needles. A few victims lay on the floor outside the cages, too weak to stand, with chains around their ankles linking them to bolts in the concrete. One man coughed up blood onto the floor, his chest rattling with every breath while a guard kicked him lightly to shut him up.

Clark had tears already streaming down his face as he took it all in. This wasn't just kidnapping, this was breaking people down until they were nothing, stripping away everything human before shipping them off like cargo. Kids no older than sixteen huddled in some cages. An older woman in one corner rocked a younger girl who looked half-dead. 

It hit him all at once, the sheer horror of it, and Clark couldn't hold it in anymore, something inside him broke then and a yell ripped out of him, one that was raw and full of rage, as he slammed down from the ceiling and cratered the concrete floor on impact. Dust flew up around him while he stood there shaking, tears still running down his cheeks.

Guards spun around from every direction, guns raising as they shouted. "You're not supposed to be here!!" one yelled, stepping forward with his rifle up.

That was all he got out before Clark blurred in front of him, grabbing the guy's face in one hand and hurling him sideways into a concrete wall hard enough to crack it. The guard crumpled to the floor.

The others opened fire, bullets pinging off Clark's chest while he moved through them like a storm. He grabbed one by the vest and threw him into a stack of cages that rattled from the impact. Another swung a baton at his head, but Clark caught it mid-swing and snapped it in half before punching the guy in the chest and sending him flying ten feet into a table. "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS!!?" Clark screamed at them, voice breaking as he took down another with a backhand that knocked him unconscious. "THEY'RE PEOPLE, HOW COULD YOU TREAT THEM SO MONSTROUSLY!!!"

He slammed the last guard into the ground, holding him down while the man gasped for air. "TELL ME!!!" Clark demanded, tears dripping onto the guy's face.

The guard spat blood and laughed weakly. "Money, kid. Always money."

Clark knocked him out with one punch and stood there breathing hard, his chest heaving while he looked around at the cages. The victims stared back at him with a mix of hope and fear, some pressing against the bars while others cowered in corners. Then a bolt of lightning cracked through the air from the far end of the room, slamming into Clark's back and sending him crashing forward into a stack of metal crates that crumpled around him. A little bit of pain shot through his body as he pushed himself up, turning to see three figures step out from a side door.

Weather Wizard floated in first, electricity crackling around his hands while he smirked. Nightcap followed, shadows swirling around him as he pulled darkness from the corners to form blades in his grip. And bringing up the rear, bandaged but very much alive, walked Bulletstorm with his guns already drawn and aimed.

Clark stared at them, anger turning to fury as recognition hit. "You," he said. "You're supposed to be heroes."

Weather Wizard laughed and raised his hands, storm clouds forming on the ceiling. "Kid, this is where the big bucks are earned, not saving fucking cats from trees."

Clark stood up slowly, wiping blood from his lip where the lightning had split it. "Then I'll show you what it costs."

Clark launched forward like a bullet, straight at Weather Wizard first since the guy had his hands up and electricity already swirling in his hands. Lightning cracked toward him, but Clark tanked it head-on, the bolt slamming into his chest and making his shirt smoke a little. It stung, sure, but it didn't slow him down. He grabbed Weather Wizard by the front of his costume and slammed him into the concrete floor hard enough to crack it. The guy groaned and tried to summon wind to push Clark off, but Clark punched him in the face and that shut the weather powers down fast. Weather Wizard went limp as he lost consciousness

Nightcap came next, shadows whipping out from the corners like black tentacles trying to wrap around Clark's arms and legs. They squeezed tight, cutting into his skin a bit, but Clark flexed and ripped right through them. He blurred over and grabbed Nightcap by the throat, lifting him up while the guy choked and tried to pull more darkness around them. Clark headbutted him hard, the impact echoing in the room, and Nightcap dropped like a sack when Clark let go.

Bulletstorm hung back, firing round after round from his custom guns, bullets curving mid-air to hit Clark from every angle. They pinged off his chest and face, doing nothing, Clark walked straight through the barrage. He reached Bulletstorm in a second, grabbing both guns and crushing them in his fists before the guy could reload. Bulletstorm swung a punch, but Clark caught his fist and squeezed until bones cracked. The guy yelled in pain, dropping to his knees.

Clark held him up by the shirt with one hand with the other fist raised for another hit. "You tried to kill an innocent woman," he said, voice shaking with anger. "Just because you didn't want her ti find about this place... you're no hero..."

Bulletstorm spat blood and grinned weakly. "This is what bring a hero is you fucking idiot!" He spat out at Clark. "Just because you're too weak to take advantage of our god given right!"

Clark drew his fist back even more as he r prepared a punch that would stop him talking temporarily and hopefully shatter all of his teeth. He was however distracted when a voice called out from behind him. 

"Put him down, son."

The voice came from behind was very familiar. Clark turned slowly, still holding Bulletstorm off the ground, and saw Silver Sentinel floating down from a hole he must have blasted in the roof. His wings folded as he landed, his armor gleaming under the lights.

Clark felt a rush of relief and lowered his fist a little. "Silver Sentinel, thank goodness you're here. Look at what I found, these people in the cages, they're being trafficked and this is where they're prepared. Weather Wizard, Nightcap, Bulletstorm, they're all involved. You have to help me get everyone out now."

Silver Sentinel raised a hand. "Don't worry, Superman. Your friend told me all about the situation. I'm here to back you up, but we need to focus on the civilians right now, so put bulletstorm down."

Clark exhaled and felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. He threw Bulletstorm to the ground where the guy landed hard and groaned. "Good. We need to free them from the cages right away. A lot are injured bad, we should call ambulances and get medical help here as fast as possible."

Silver Sentinel walked closer, nodding like he agreed. "You did a good job getting in here and stopping the guards. Calm down now take a mimiute to compose yourself and let me handle the rest."

Clark nodded in agreement and tried to take a minute to relax, wiping sweat from his forehead while he turned to check on the nearest cage. The nauseous feeling hit him harder the closer Silver Sentinel got, that same weak, sick wave he always felt around the man. It made his stomach churn, but he pushed it down and focused on the victims. Bulletstorm started pushing himself up from the floor, smirking like nothing had happened.

"You're finally here, boss," Bulletstorm said in clear relief

Clark froze and turned back slowly, confusion hitting him hard. "What are you talking—" Before he could finish a beam of green energy slammed into Clark.  The green energy hit like nothing Clark had ever felt. It burned and tore through him, ripping at his insides like acid pouring through his veins. Pain exploded everywhere, worse than the lightning, worse than anything he'd ever felt. His muscles seized up, and he flew backward, slamming into a row of cages that bent and crumpled from the impact. He hit the ground hard, gasping while the green glow lingered on his skin and kept burning.

Clark pushed himself up on shaking arms, blood dripping from his mouth as he looked up. Silver Sentinel held the sword pointed right at him, the blade glowing with that same green energy. His whole body glowed faintly now, power radiating off him in waves. The nauseous feeling turned into full sickness, wave after wave hitting Clark until he could barely stay on his knees.

Bulletstorm laughed from the floor and stood up slowly. Weather Wizard and Nightcap stirred too, groaning as they got back to their feet.

Clark stared at Silver Sentinel, betrayal cutting deeper than the pain. "You... you're part of this?"

Silver Sentinel looked down at Clark with something that almost passed for regret in his eyes, but it vanished quick when he shook his head. "I'm sorry it had to come to this, kid. But you just wouldn't stop sticking your nose into my business."

Clark stayed on one knee, the green burn still throbbing in his chest while he stared up at the man he'd looked up to his whole life. "Your business?" he repeated, his voice cracking. "T-This your operation?"

Silver Sentinel shrugged like it was no big deal. "One of them, yeah. I've got a few spread across the country."

Clark's heart broke right there. Tears welled up again and spilled down his cheeks while he tried to process it. The hero he'd idolized since he was a little kid tying a towel around his neck, the one who'd inspired every dream he'd ever had about flying out to save people, was standing in the middle of a human trafficking hellhole admitting it was his. Some part of Clark refused to believe it, kept screaming inside his head that this had to be a mistake, that Silver Sentinel couldn't be this evil.

Silver Sentinel kept talking like he was giving a lecture. "A lot of us get into this gig thinking we're gonna be some big force for good. That what we do actually matters. We save a few people here and there, pose for the cameras, and the regular folk are supposed to fall all over themselves thanking us. But they're never grateful, Superman. Not really. They cheer for a day, then they go right back to bitching about property damage or how we didn't show up fast enough for their little problems. Ungrateful little insects who think they're entitled to everything we give them."

He paced a couple steps, his sword still glowing green in his hand. "We deserve more than what they give us. Way more. Supes like us sit at the top of the food chain, and we scrape by on hero salaries and endorsement deals while Vought lines their pockets. I got tired of that shit. So I built something better. These people nobody cares about? They're just product."

Clark pushed himself up higher, legs shaking from the lingering pain. "You were supposed to protect them," he said, his voice breaking again. "Why... there are so many things you could've done. Why this?"

Silver Sentinel gave him a blunt look. "Because I need the money, son, and trafficking brings in such good money."

He held up the sword, letting the green glow brighten. "There is a reason though, and it mainly involves my powers; you may think this is just energy projection? It's not that simple. I absorb energy, but I can only do so from natural minerals. It empowers my body. Slows aging, makes me stronger and heals me. I'm ninety-three this year, Superman. Ninety-three. I've been burning through rare minerals my whole career just to stay in the game. Cost a fortune. Then around 20 years ago my body adapted, started aging again no matter what I fed it. I thought that was it, thought I'd finally die."

He smiled. "Then I found something better. A green crystal that crashed here fifteen years ago in a meteor shower over a small town in Kansas. It emitted Alien radiation, nothing like it on Earth could compare to it. First batch I got my hands on made me stronger than ever, it even started reversing my aging. I'm more powerful now than I was in my prime, but the stuff is very expensive, it took me years of work to get a steady supply."

"Why tell me this?" Clark asked through gritted teeth.

Silver Sentinel lowered the sword a little. "Because I was gonna bring you into this life slowly. Show you the real world, let you see how much better life is when you stop playing the grateful servant. You've got the same potential as Homelander, maybe more. I wanted you at my side, accepting your place at the top with the rest of us gods."

He shook his head. "But you had to go and ruin it."

Clark pushed himself to his feet fully, sadness and anger twisting together until he couldn't tell which was which anymore. Tears still ran down his face, but his fists clenched tight. "I'm stopping you," he said. "This ends here."

Silver Sentinel sighed like he was dealing with a stubborn kid. "This warehouse was one of the low-income ones anyway. I'll just burn it down. News gets a nice headline out of it: Local hero Superman goes insane, kills dozens in rampage."

He raised the sword again, green energy building around the tip. "I really hoped you'd come around to my way of thinking, Superman. Such a waste of potential."

Clark growled in his throat and stood straighter, wiping tears away with the back of his hand while he braced for the next blast. The pain still lingered, but anger burned hotter now. He wasn't backing down.

He launched off the ground toward Silver Sentinel, but he felt noticeably slower than before as if his muscles dragged through water. The green radiation lingered in his system as if it was weakening him. Weather Wizard reacted first and hurled a bolt of lightning that slammed into Clark's side, searing his skin and drawing a grunt of pain that hit harder than the earlier strike. Nightcap followed up with shadow tendrils that wrapped around Clark's legs mid-air, yanking him off course and slicing into his thighs like razor wire. Blood welled up from the cuts, soaking his pants as he tore free and kept moving.

Bulletstorm fired a volley, his bullets curving to hit Clark's back and punch through his suit into flesh, they didn't fully pierce his body but they managed to get through his skin. Clark twisted in the air and fired a heat blast at Weather Wizard, twin red beams from his eyes that caught the guy in the chest and sent him flying into a stack of crates with a crash. Weather Wizard slumped there, smoke rising from his costume as he groaned weakly.

Clark dodged the next energy blast from Silver Sentinel by inches, the green beam scorching the air where his head had been and blasting a hole in the wall behind him. He rushed Bulletstorm next and punched him square in the chest, the impact caving in his armor and sending him hurtling into the far wall where he embedded with a crunch of concrete. Bulletstorm slid down limp, blood bubbling from his mouth.

Clark turned back to Silver Sentinel and rushed him head-on, but the hero swung his sword in a wide arc that released another blast. The green energy hit Clark full in the torso, ripping through him like a hot knife and sending waves of agony that made his vision blur. He screamed in pain as he flew backward through the warehouse wall, bricks exploding outward while he tumbled into the night air and crashed into the gravel lot outside. The impact dug a furrow in the ground, dirt and rocks flying up around him as he rolled to a stop.

Silver Sentinel floated out through the hole in the wall, wings spread wide while he descended slowly and landed a few feet away. He looked down at Clark who knelt there and threw up onto the dirt, bile mixing with blood from internal injuries. "Give it up, kid," Silver Sentinel said. "You're outmatched."

Clark roared from deep in his chest and pushed himself up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while he glared at the man. Anger overrode the pain for a second, and he charged again, fists clenched as he closed the gap on the ground. Silver Sentinel met him head-on this time, swinging his sword in a downward chop that Clark blocked with his forearm. The blade bit into his skin and muscle, drawing a thick line of blood that burned from the green energy, but Clark countered with a punch to Silver Sentinel's gut that doubled him over.

They traded blows in the lot, Clark landing a hit to the jaw that snapped Silver Sentinel's head back and drew blood from his lip. Silver Sentinel retaliated with a knee to Clark's midsection that cracked his ribs and sent him staggering. Clark grabbed him by the armor and headbutted him hard, foreheads cracking together with a sound like thunder. Blood sprayed from Silver Sentinel's nose, but he laughed through it and blasted Clark point-blank in the chest again.

The energy tore fresh wounds, his skin splitting open while Clark felt his insides twist. He flew back into the warehouse wall and crashed through it, tumbling across the main floor where cages rattled from the impact. Guards who had started to wake scattered, but Clark ignored them and got up spitting blood. His heat vision flickered, it was noticeably weaker now, the green radiation seemed to be sapping his strength with every second near Silver Sentinel.

Silver Sentinel flew in after him, sword raised while he unleashed a barrage of slashes. Clark dodged the first two, but the third caught his shoulder and sliced deep, blood pouring down his arm as he yelled in pain. He grabbed a nearby metal beam from the debris and swung it like a bat, connecting with Silver Sentinel's side and sending him skidding across the floor. The hero rolled to his feet and flew back, tackling Clark through another wall into a storage area filled with crates.

They grappled there, Clark pinning Silver Sentinel against a stack and punching him repeatedly in the face. Blood smeared across the hero's helmet, and a tooth flew loose, but Silver Sentinel absorbed the hits and countered with an energy-infused punch that broke Clark's nose in a spray of red. Clark reeled back, vision swimming, and Silver Sentinel followed up with a kick to the knee that buckled him down.

Clark swept his leg out and tripped Silver Sentinel, then jumped on top and hammered fists into his chest plate. Cracks formed in the armor, but Silver Sentinel grabbed Clark's wrists and blasted green energy through his hands, burning the skin raw while Clark screamed and pulled free. The pain slowed him more, his punches landing weaker as they rolled across the floor trading hits that left bruises and cuts on both.

Silver Sentinel gained the upper hand and threw Clark upward through the ceiling, wood and metal splintering as they burst onto the roof. Clark landed hard on his back, coughing blood while rain started to fall from the clouds Weather Wizard had summoned. Silver Sentinel flew up after him, landing nearby and stalking forward with his sword drawn.

Clark got to his knees and fired heat vision that grazed Silver Sentinel's arm, burning the suit but not deep enough to stop him. The hero swung the sword and hit Clark with the flat side, sending him sliding across the roof where metal tore his back open. Blood soaked his suit now, mixing with the rain that puddled around him.

They clashed again on the roof, Clark tackling Silver Sentinel and driving him into a vent shaft that crumpled from the force. He punched down, each hit drawing grunts from the hero, but Silver Sentinel blocked one and countered with a punch that split Clark's eyebrow. Blood ran into his eye, blurring his sight, and Silver Sentinel flipped them over, mounting Clark and raining blows with energy-charged fists.

Clark's face swelled, lips splitting while bones cracked under the assault. He bucked Silver Sentinel off and stood shakily, then flew upward into the air with the hero following. They collided mid-flight, grappling while they spun through the rain. Clark punched him again, then kneed him in the gut, but Silver Sentinel slashed with the sword and cut a gash across Clark's chest that poured blood.

The green radiation weakened him more with every second, his flight faltering as they twisted higher. Silver Sentinel broke free and blasted him downward, the energy beam hitting Clark's back and sending him plummeting like a meteor. He crashed into the ground outside the warehouse, dirt exploding in a crater while pain radiated through every bone.

Silver Sentinel landed nearby and walked over slowly, sword humming with green light. Clark tried to push up, his arms trembling, but the hero stepped on his back and pressed him down. "It's over."

Clark gasped for air, blood bubbling from his mouth. Silver Sentinel raised the sword and drove it through Clark's back, the blade punching out the other side in a spray of red. Clark's eyes went wide, shock hitting him harder than the pain. He couldn't believe it, he was about to be killed by Silver Sentinel. Tears mixed with blood on his face as he looked up. "No..."

Silver Sentinel twisted the blade slightly, drawing a scream from Clark before he pulled it free. Clark slumped over, clutching the wound that gushed blood onto the dirt. Silver Sentinel stabbed him again, to make sure, the blade grating against ribs. "Fool," he said coldly. "You could've been something."

The other heroes walked over from the warehouse, Weather Wizard rubbing his chest where the heat blast had burned him. "He dead yet?"

Silver Sentinel looked down at Clark who lay still now, blood pooling around him. "He will be. The wounds will do the rest."

They grumbled among themselves. "What now? Kid wrecked the place."

Silver Sentinel glared at them. "Clean it up, get the product ready to move, though keep a few of them so we can set up the story."

Nightcap shifted uncomfortably. "Boss, this is messy. Vought's gonna be pissed."

Silver Sentinel turned on him fast, his sword glowing brighter. "You questioning me?"

The heroes backed up with their hands raised. "No, no. We're good."

Bulletstorm stepped forward then. "I'll take the body. Dump it far out, make sure no one finds it."

Silver Sentinel nodded. "Do it. The rest of you, get to work."