Damn it, I’m surrounded by those who worry about their fathers!

"Godfather, that story you once told me..."

Clark blinked and said, "You mentioned that if mice and monkeys in the lab are given the illusion of choice, they tend to live healthy lives. Even if the only options they have are between a mild or a strong electric shock."

"But at least they can feel a difference in the outcome, and they're happy with it, giving them a sense of purpose. However, if they don't have any choice and are forced to endure continuous shocks, they'll only become more anxious."

Clark exhaled. "I understand now, Godfather. You were trying to tell me that without choices, life can fall apart."

Peter paused, then nodded slowly. He hadn't expected Clark to have such philosophical thoughts—seemed like reading Nietzsche had left an impression.

"Choices can indeed be hard, Clark," Peter said thoughtfully. "But no matter what, as long as it's your choice, there's no right or wrong. The past you won't satisfy the present you, and the present you won't satisfy the future you. Just follow your heart."

Clark nodded, understanding the lesson. Gazing into the dark night, he shared his inner thoughts with Peter. "The truth is, Godfather, I wanted to be just a regular kid at first. When I first got my super hearing, I thought I was sick, until I heard the neighbor's kid talking through the walls."

"I wanted to be a regular boy, with scraped knees and a wheezy cough, like everyone else."

Clark rarely showed this vulnerable side. "My dad says I have a mission, that I'm meant to bring change to the world. But, Godfather… can I really do that? I'm scared of making the wrong choice, of disappointing you all."

"You will make a difference, Clark. But don't burden yourself; you don't owe anyone anything."

Peter comforted the confused Clark, "No matter what choice you make, it won't impact your future."

Clark gazed into Peter's eyes, still uncertain. "Really, Godfather?"

"Of course. Your Godfather has never lied."

Peter gently patted Clark's shoulder. "Neither I nor your parents will ever be disappointed in you."

"Thank you."

The next morning...

In the school hallway, Clark thanked John.

John had just helped him fend off Whitney Fordham's harassment. Whitney, the elementary school's self-appointed king, had recently been giving Clark trouble.

It all started when Clark missed the bus one day, and Whitney, from his seat, made faces to mock him. But to his surprise, by the time the bus arrived, Clark was already strolling on the sidewalk, which left Whitney furious.

Since then, rumors spread about Clark and John having superpowers. Whitney, along with his followers, was trying to prove Clark had no special abilities.

"No problem," John said, putting his bag in his locker. "But remember, 'thank you' is the least we can offer. If you really want to thank me, Clark, you could help me mow the lawn on the farm. Don't worry, I'll split the reward my dad gives me with you."

John then smirked, "I'm too busy learning how to fly with Mr. Jones to earn pocket money now."

Last night, John had a thrilling flying session with Martian Manhunter, but realizing he'd have no time for chores and allowances dampened his mood.

"Sure," Clark agreed, accepting John's request. "Thank you, Clark. You, my brother, are the real hero."

"By the way," John asked, "so you didn't hit Whitney back earlier?"

Clark shook his head. "No, he pushed me down, but I didn't fight back."

"You should've punched him," John scoffed. "My dad always says there's no need to fear guys like that."

"I know, and I'm not afraid of him. But he brought his lackeys to try and prove I'm not ordinary. If I fought him, it would've been falling into his trap."

"Which would only lead to more trouble."

Clark closed his locker. "I won't get riled up by cheap tricks like that."

"Maybe there's another way," John's eyes narrowed. "I could give that guy a little lesson."

Clark stopped him quickly. "No, John. The Godfather said not to cause trouble."

"This isn't trouble; it's justice. I'm sure my dad would support it."

"But, John—"

"Relax, Clark. I'll just give him a couple of panda eyes, nothing serious."

John waved him off and headed to class. Clark sighed, following him, thinking he should probably report this to his Godfather.

Inside the classroom, the television was playing the news.

"According to the Kansas Forestry and Fire Bureau, a wildfire named 'Karl' erupted in the McPherson City forest and spread westward due to strong winds. So far, two people have died, and over a thousand residents have been evacuated."

Seeing the roaring flames on the screen, Clark and John exchanged a glance.

The newscaster continued, "The burned area on the northern edge of McPherson has exceeded 18 square kilometers, destroying at least 25 homes."

"Will the wildfire reach our town?" John asked, frowning.

Clark stared at the screen, hesitantly replying, "I don't think so. The firefighters should be able to handle it."

No sooner had he spoken than the announcer updated, "Around 165 firefighters are now combating the wildfire. Meteorologists predict that upcoming rains may help, but officials caution that rain alone will have minimal impact given the fire's current intensity."

John shrugged, mimicking Peter. "Well, God bless America!"