"What about you," Martha asked, her questions serving both as a test, as well as a way to integrate him socially into their pod.
"Truth for truth? We didn't actually ever get to understand how your society works. We endured your worst; we know very little about your best. Did you always have a hierarchal and patriarchal society? Leaders chosen by blood line?"
"It grew out of need. Before our planet was dying, we lived differently. Hundreds of years ago."
"I would love to know more about what happened to your world," Bernie asked, his tone and gaze eager with scientific curiosity.
"We all would," chirped in someone else an Kal-El noted that others had drawn close under this questioning.
"I can tell you everything I can learn about it from our records," he offered affably.
"You were once egalitarian?"
"Not precisely, but more so than not. My lineage was less important a few centuries ago."
"Is that what destroyed your planet?"
"That, and the red sun. It was.."
"Others around drew near to hear his answers, the rowdy atmosphere of the party softening into a heavy, respectful silence.
'It was a slow death,' Kal-El said, his voice dropping to a somber register. 'The red sun was only part of it. As the core became unstable, the scientists realized that our only hope was to leave. But the Council… they feared the chaos of a mass exodus. They feared that if the common people were given the choice to leave, the structure of our world would collapse before the planet did.'
'So they locked it down,' Bernie surmised, his glass forgotten in his hand.
'They created the castes,' Kal-El confirmed. 'They convinced the people that staying was their sacred duty, while the elite secretly prepared for a future they weren't sure they could even reach. By the time I was born, we weren't a civilization anymore. We were a museum, curated by people too proud to admit we were dying. My clone… he didn't just inherit my face. He inherited centuries of that arrogance. He believed he was saving the species by conquering yours, because in his mind, Kryptonians were the only ones who mattered.'
Martha stepped forward, her gaze searching his. 'And you? If your world hadn't ended, would you have been like him?'
Kal-El looked at her—the woman who, in another life, would have taught him how to tie his shoes and how to stand up for the little guy.
'I don’t know,' he admitted with a heartbreaking honesty that silenced the room. 'I was raised to be a Lord. But not espouse cruelty - if they hadn't done what they did to me, I would have been who I am. But I spent those years in stasis dreaming. Not of conquest, but of the things I heard in the psychic link before it went dark. I heard people—your people—screaming. You screaming, L-Lois. And for the first time in my life, I didn't feel like a Lord. I felt like a failure. That is why I am here, Martha. Not to lead you. But to ensure that your world doesn’t become a museum of what used to be.'
Lois, standing near the back, felt a lump in her throat. She recognized that look. It was the same look the two Clarks had—the burden of a world's weight. She stepped forward, breaking the tension.
'Truth for truth,' she said, her voice steady despite the whiskey. 'We’re a broken people, Kal-El. We’ve done things to each other since the invasion that would make your Council blush. But we’re still here. And as much as we’re afraid of you… we’re glad you’re here too.'
She didn't offer a toast this time. She simply nodded—an acknowledgement of an ally.
Kal-El felt a warmth that the sun lamps couldn't provide. For a moment, the 'Lord' was gone, replaced by a man who was simply trying to find his way home.
'Thank you, Lois,' he whispered.
The party didn't return to its previous roar, but it became warmer. As the night wound down, the scientists began to drift away, no longer glancing at the door in fear of the man standing near it. They had traded their fear for his story, and in the economy of the bunker, it was the most valuable thing they owned."
Last edited by L; 05/11/26 09:53 PM.
