EARTH
Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy
Ten Years Ago“Clark, go long,”
Ryan whispered, knowing only his brother could hear him. At the snap, Clark launched from the scrimmage line. They were down by only a few points, and a single touchdown could win them the game against Metropolis.
There was no doubt in Clark’s mind that they could win; he was faster than every other player on the field, and it wasn’t even a fair contest. It had been a long point of contention for their father whether Clark could even play ethically.
There would always be that push to run a little faster, hit just a little harder.
Ryan was always there to cover for Clark, though, not to say there hadn’t been a few close calls. It was hard for Clark to remember to fall when he was hit, often allowing someone to just bounce off of him, catching a few wayward states. There were even times when Clark had to quickly dose himself with a water bottle to hide the fact that he hadn’t broken a sweat all game.
Pushing through the Metropolis players, Clark broke free of the line of scrimmage, easily outpacing his pursuers while waiting for the Ryan’s ‘Hail Mary’ throw. A low whistle caught his keen ears as Ryan let out the subtle sound before the spiralling of the football drowned it out.
Without even looking, Clark tracked the ball’s trajectory, turning at the last moment before jumping into the air, taking care not to defy gravity completely. Cradling the ball against his chest, Clark allowed himself to fall back to Earth, effortlessly gliding into the end zone.
“The Kent boys have done it again!” The announcer roared over the ecstatic crowd. “The Crows overtaking the Tigers as the clock strikes zero!”
From centerfield, Ryan watched as the Crows’ cheerleaders exploded, his girlfriend and head cheerleader, Lana Lang, leading the squad in celebration all while never breaking eye contact with him. From the end zone, Clark hooted happily before running to center field as the brothers high-fived excitedly.
There were days it was very easy to resent Clark and everything he could do. But in this moment, Ryan had everything he could have ever wanted. A championship before graduation, Clark and him as equals, Lana Lang on his arm.
Yeah.
His life was pretty much perfect.

EARTH
Sol System - Milky Way Galaxy
Nine Years AgoThe football twirled through the air, landing in the hands of Whitney Fordman before the blonde young man hurled it towards Ryan Kent. Flashing a grin beneath a tousled mop of sandy rust-tinged hair, the younger man turned and sent the ball flying towards Pete Ross.
It felt good to be out here tossing around the pigskin with familiar faces. The championship felt like a lifetime of shovelling manure away. Watching all of his friends up and leave Smallville to chase education and careers elsewhere, with Ryan feeling completely left behind. His parents last lifeline to keep the farm going with the unspoken acknowledgement that Clark was destined for greater things.
The quad was alive with new and returning students alike as the three friends passed the ball between themselves. In Smallville, they had been a couple of big fish in a small pond, but here, in Metropolis, they were basically pond scum.
Rednecks from less than nowhere in the middle of the nowhere that was Kansas.
Ryan already knew his parents couldn’t afford to send him to Metropolis University, with Clark already attending, they were barely keeping ahead at the farm. But when Chloe and Pete offered for Ryan to tag along and see the campus for the weekend, he couldn’t turn them down.
The trio had set out on a road trip, piling into Pete’s van, his girlfriend Lana and former teammate Whitney in tow as they headed cross-country. Delaware itself was a long way from Kansas, both geographically and culturally. Metropolis was the glistening crown jewel of the East Coast, a city sitting on the precipice of utopia. Crime rates were nearly nonexistent even before a hooded hero took it to be his primary mission to eliminate what little crime did happen here.
The golden globe atop the Daily Planet glistened in the sunlight, illuminated like a beacon signalling all was right amidst the ivory towers and art deco-inspired skyscrapers that adorned much of the Big Apricot’s skyline. The only building that dared cast a shadow over the Planet was the twin towers of Luthorcorp, the tallest skyscrapers in Metropolis. Luthorcorp Plaza sat next to the Daily Planet, and if the Planet’s globe was the beacon, then the pair of L-shaped buildings were the harbingers.
Originally a pesticide company, Luthorcorp was able to rapidly expand in record time, growing into all fields of agriculture before moving to genetic tailoring and eventually bioengineering. Everyone in Metropolis knew the story of Lionel Luthor, born in Suicide Slum with nary a penny to his name until an unfortunate accident left him in possession of his parents’ life insurance. Lionel was able to take that small sum and turn it into a fortune that supplied crops that could not only grow, but also continually produce in even the harshest environments.
Luthorcorp products had kept Smallville going after the meteors destroyed most of the farm land, turning the Cream Corn Capital into the Meteor Rock Capital of America. Much to his begrudging parents' chagrin, if it hadn’t been for Luthorcorp, the Kent farm wouldn’t have been able to recover its crops and maintain its livestock.
That probably would have been the end of the Kents’ interactions with the Luthors had Clark and Lex not met.
The maniac with the Porsche.
That’s what their Dad always called Lex. The younger Luthor had been racing in the rain, likely to a late-night hookup, while Clark, being Clark, had decided to brood on Loeb Bridge. Between the rain, the setting sun and the speed Lex had been driving at, it was no surprise that he had hit Clark at eighty miles per hour before the pair plunged into the Elbow River.
No one but Clark knew the details of what happened next, but Ryan knew the gist was that his brother had pulled Lex from the car and both walked away unscathed. Though when it came to Clark, Ryan found that somewhat less impressive.
“Good catch, quarterback,” mocked Pete, snapping the absent-minded Ryan back to the present as the ball went past his outstretched hand before colliding with a freshly purchased iced coffee. The drink exploded onto the blouse of its own as Pete hurriedly ran up to the attractive woman, apologizing profusely.
“My bad for trusting the Crows’ season-winning quarterback to throw a ball,” Pete stated, flashing a million-dollar smile towards the woman, “Perhaps Clark was the real star all along.” He teased Ryan, turning his face back towards the raven-haired amazon in front of him, ignorant of the glare that had crossed Ryan’s face while the Kent’s biological son stared at the back of Pete’s head, suddenly wishing he had his brother’s heat vision.
When they were younger, Clark had been sickly and often needed Ryan to interject. As they grew, that dynamic changed. Clark developed in ways that none of them could have foreseen and became gifted far beyond any of the other so-called heroes flying around Earth. But Ryan often felt unnecessary, like he wasn’t supposed to be part of his brother’s life, nay, like he couldn’t be a part of his brother’s life anymore.
He couldn’t fly into space, and he couldn’t lift a tractor with one hand. It was a mystery to Ryan why Clark didn’t just stand a little taller sometimes; he could have had anything or anyone he wanted. How Clark didn’t end up with Lana was going to baffle Ryan forever, but he was grateful that his brother from the stars didn’t come to Earth to build a harem.
“Where are my manners? Let me get you some napkins,” Pete’s voice rang out as Ryan’s friend continued, handing the aforementioned napkins to the woman while she brushed herself off.
“My name is Pete, Pete Ross.” He added, riding the coattails of his mother’s position. There wasn’t a person in Smallville who hadn’t heard of Judge Ross. Unfortunately for Pete, they weren’t in Smallville.
“Sorry, you said that like it should mean something.” The woman replied, “Should it have?”
“Uh,” Pete stammered suddenly, rubbing the back of his head, “No, it’s just I wanted to make sure it was memorable.”
“Oh, the name not so much, hun,” The woman smirked, “But the blushing and the squirming, I’ll remember that.”
“C’mon, you’ve at least got to give me your name,”
“I ain’t gotta do anything, hun,” The woman smiled, a couple chuckles echoing around Pete from Whitney and Ryan.
“But I’ll take some pity on you, Nat Irons,” The woman said, folding her arms over her chest, “And yes, that is Irons as in AmerTek Industries’ Henry Irons.”
“Did she say AmerTek?” Whitney suddenly asked from beside Ryan, “My Dad’s been obsessed with their guns since his time as a Marine. Keeps a copy of Henry Iron’s biography on his desk ‘Man of Steel’,”
“Aren’t they our current defense contractor?”
“They are, and my Daddy’d probably sign that for you,” Nat called to Ryan and Whitney, “I got ears, I ain’t deaf.”
“This guy’ll be here playing for the Sharks,” Ryan said, patting Whitney around the shoulders, “I don’t think Metropolis is in my future.”
“Shame, wouldn’t mind seeing a tall drink of water like you around again,” Nat replied, “Whatever they feed them in K-state, it does well.” She smiled before turning to Pete, “‘Cept you, you’s still a growing boy, ya gotta eat.” Nat winked, “Have a good day, Pete Ross.”
“You boys making friends?”
The familiar voice made Ryan jump as Chloe and Lana joined the three males just while they were watching Pete pick his jaw back up off the floor.
“I think I’m in love.”
“‘Course you are, Pete, ‘course you are,” Ryan replied, patting him on the back before planting a playful kiss on Lana.
“How’d your tour go?”
“It was good, Chloe has quite the salespitch, but I think I’d rather stay closer to home., Her friend Lori did, however, invite us all out for dinner.” Lana replied, “She’s apparently taken quite the shine to Clark, I think you’ll like her.”
“Well then I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Lionel, you're a hard man to get a hold of.”
The voice boomed across the large office as a well-built figure in a finely tailored maroon suit pulled open both glass doors, striding into the office with the authority and pomp that one might possess if they owned the building. Once dark hair stained with silver was cut into a tidy fade with a well-coiffed quiff, while a meticulously maintained moustache adorned his upper lip.
“Morgan,” Lionel answered, not bothering to look up from the laptop in front of him. “To what do I owe the displeasure of this visit? With the media circus already circling for blood in the water, you’re certainly not doing me any favours darkening my door.”
The head of Luthorcorp’s response elicited a throaty chuckle from Morgan Edge as he continued towards Lionel’s desk. He paused, an odd looking knife, seemingly made out of welded scrap metal and adorned green crystalline rock through its hilt, sat on a nearby shelf catching his attention before he turned to respond.
“Perhaps not, but we both know they won't be able to tie us to any illicit activities, let alone together.”
Lionel stood, closing his laptop slowly before making his way over to the nearby bar.
“Indeed, but I assume this visit is more than a show of bravado?” He smiled, pouring two glasses from a nearby decanter. “I procured this on my latest visit to Japan. Surprisingly good whisky.”
“Grown on Luthorcorp fields no doubt.” Edge nodded with a smile.
“Yes, and artificially aged using our latest in bio-engineering. Even the finest sommelier couldn't tell the difference between this and a fifty-year-old Scotch.”
“Most impressive, Lionel,” Edge saluted, taking a sip, swirling the drink around in his mouth while sniffing the glass. The rich, smokey and woody aroma was only matched by the taste. Lionel was right, it was impossible to tell the difference.
“If you had told me nearly forty years ago, you were going to make artificially aged whisky, I would have called you a loon and suggested they toss you in Arkham.” Edge smiled, “But you’ve come up with quite the lucrative business all things considered, a great man renowned world wide. Kings will come to your funeral.” The moustached man allowed himself a small laugh.
“You should have gone for Senator, not Mayor of Metropolis.”
“Maybe I’ll aim higher when I retire. Luthorcorp is still growing and I have much to prepare before my heir can assume his reign.”
“The cameras love Lex, the populace love him. He’s a smart lad, and the work he’s doing with Sentinel-One and Project Hope,” Morgan kissed his fingers, “Top notch if I do say so myself.”
“His time in Smallville proved most fortuitous,” Lionel replied, “It wasn’t without its storms, but Lex came out the other side a man with a glorious burden.”
“It’s funny you should say that,” Edge chuckled darkly, sitting down and kicking his feet up. “Metropolis has been going through some remarkably stormy weather lately, but I believe clearer days are ahead.” He took a long sip of his drink before looking directly at Lionel.
“Does Ugly still work for you?”
“Hmm, yes, I do believe so.” Lionel replied, “He’s been working out very well, he’s in charge of receiving our at Cadmus Labs on the South Docks. Expecting a shipment tonight from AmerTek marked for Infinity Incorporated.”
“Odd, I could have sworn there wasn't anything on the docket,” Morgan remarked, taking a long and intentional sip of his whisky.
Scratching his tidy beard, Lionel replied thoughtfully.
“Now that you mention it, with everything that's been happening on Metropolis, the ship was just reported lost. It must have slipped my mind, we’re all quite devastated afterall.”
“Shame,” Edge answered with a subtle smirk. “Thank you for the drink Lionel. That really is damn fine whisky. You have my support, Mr. Mayor.” Morgan stated, as he stood, walking towards the door while Lionel called out after him.
“Always a pleasure, Morgan.”