Reforged in the Sun: Clark Kent Reborn SI

he morning light streamed through the high windows of Smallville High, casting long shadows on the polished floors. Lockers slammed shut, teachers hurried between classes with coffee mugs in hand, and the air buzzed with the endless chatter of students. On the surface, it was just another day.

But for me, every day at school was starting to feel like a tightrope walk. I was balancing my alien heritage, Lex's growing curiosity, my evolving powers, and now… Lana.

I spotted her waiting by the trophy case near the science wing, her soft green sweater and simple jeans giving her the effortless charm that always made her stand out. She waved at me, her books clutched against her chest.

"Clark!" she called.

I hurried over, adjusting the strap of my backpack. "Hey, Lana. You ready for the big presentation?"

Her smile was warm but tinged with nervousness. "As ready as I'll ever be. I just hope Mr. Keller doesn't pick our project apart."

"He won't," I said confidently. "The hydroelectric model works perfectly, and we've got solid data to back it up. Trust me, we'll blow him away."

Her nervous smile softened, and she tilted her head. "You really believe that?"

"Absolutely," I said, meeting her gaze. "We've got this."

Her expression brightened, and for a moment, the noise of the hallway faded. She tucked a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, her hazel eyes meeting mine. "Thanks, Clark. I'm glad we're doing this together."

The science lab smelled faintly of vinegar and metal as Lana and I set up our project on one of the long tables. Around us, other students were busy arranging posters, models, and experiments. Some groups looked confident, others overwhelmed, but Lana and I worked quietly, our movements perfectly in sync.

The hydroelectric generator we built was small but functional, a testament to hours of careful planning and late-night work. As Lana adjusted the miniature turbine, I connected the wires to the battery pack, making sure everything was secure.

"This is amazing," she said, her voice filled with awe. "How did you figure out the design for the turbine? It's so precise."

I hesitated, my mind flashing to the Kryptonian schematics I'd adapted for the project. Of course, I couldn't tell her that. "I just… read a lot," I said, shrugging. "It wasn't that hard once I understood the basics."

She smiled at me, her eyes sparkling. "You really are full of surprises, Clark Kent. I had no idea you were this good at science."

I chuckled. "I guess I've been keeping that under wraps."

Her smile softened as she placed her hand on mine briefly. "Well, I'm glad I get to see this side of you."

The warmth in her voice made my chest tighten. "Me too," I said quietly.

As we tested the generator, the model lit up, a small bulb glowing steadily as the turbine spun. Lana let out a laugh, her nervousness melting away.

"It works!" she said, clapping her hands together.

I grinned. "Told you we'd blow him away."

The cafeteria was alive with the sound of clattering trays and the murmur of dozens of overlapping conversations. I grabbed a tray and made my way to the table where Pete and Chloe were already waiting. Pete was leaning back in his chair, his plate piled high with food, while Chloe typed furiously on her laptop, a half-eaten apple sitting beside her.

"Clark!" Pete called as I sat down. "Man, you've been everywhere lately. Science fair, hanging out with Lana Lang… You're making the rest of us look bad."

Chloe smirked without looking up. "Yeah, the farm boy turned science whiz. Who knew? What's next, Clark? Solving the town's power outages?"

I smiled awkwardly, trying to deflect. "It's just a school project."

Chloe finally closed her laptop and leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "Oh, come on, Kent. You've got to give us more credit. You're clearly up to something lately. The disappearing acts, the mysterious power surges, and now the Clark-and-Lana science dream team? Spill."

I opened my mouth, but Pete cut in with a laugh. "Give the guy a break, Chloe. Not everything is a conspiracy. Maybe he's just trying to impress Lana."

I groaned. "It's not like that."

Pete grinned, nudging me with his elbow. "Sure it's not."

Chloe raised an eyebrow, clearly still suspicious, but let it drop. "Fine. Keep your secrets, Kent. But don't think I'm not keeping tabs on you."

The sound of basketballs echoing in the gym was almost rhythmic as I passed by on my way to grab a book I'd left in my locker. I wasn't paying much attention until I heard my name.

"Clark!"

I turned to see Whitney Fordman jogging toward me, his letterman jacket unzipped and his face set in a tight, almost hostile expression.

"Whitney," I said cautiously.

He stopped a few feet away, crossing his arms. "I've been hearing about you spending a lot of time with Lana."

"We're working on a school project," I said evenly. "That's all."

"Yeah?" he said, his voice low. "Well, maybe you should back off. Lana doesn't need someone like you hanging around, Kent."

His words were sharp, but I kept my tone calm. "I'm not trying to get in your way, Whitney. We're just partners for the science fair."

He stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "You don't belong in her world, Clark. Stay in your lane."

For a moment, I wanted to say something back, to stand my ground, but I bit my tongue. I didn't need to prove anything to Whitney.

"Sure," I said quietly, stepping around him.

But as I walked away, I couldn't ignore the flicker of anger in his eyes—or the tightening in my chest.

After school, I stopped by the hardware store to pick up supplies for the bunker. The aisles smelled of sawdust and oil, and the soft hum of fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. Behind the counter stood Kyle Cushing, leaning on the register with a relaxed but tired posture.

Kyle was one of the more outspoken members of Smallville—known for his blunt honesty and love of a good story. As I approached, he glanced up and gave me a nod.

"Clark Kent," he said, pushing off the counter. "Haven't seen you around much. What brings you in?"

"Just picking up some things for the farm," I said, glancing at the shelves.

Kyle raised an eyebrow, his sharp eyes studying me. "You've got that look."

"What look?"

"The 'carrying the weight of the world' look," he said with a smirk. "What's eating at you, kid?"

I hesitated, unsure how to answer. Finally, I shrugged. "Just… a lot on my mind."

Kyle nodded slowly. "Listen, whatever it is, don't let it bury you. Life's got a way of piling on the problems, but if you've got something worth fighting for, don't let anyone tell you it's not worth it."

His words stuck with me as I paid for the supplies and left.

That evening, I stopped by the Smallville Gazette to drop off some notes for Chloe. The newsroom was quiet, the faint hum of old computers and printers filling the air.

At one of the desks sat a young woman I didn't recognize. Her dark hair was tied back into a loose ponytail, and her leather jacket gave her a confident, no-nonsense vibe. She was typing furiously, barely glancing up as I approached.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her tone brisk.

"I'm looking for Chloe Sullivan," I said.

"She's in the back," the woman said, then paused. "Wait. You're Clark Kent, right?"

"Yeah," I said, surprised.

She grinned, leaning back in her chair. "Lois Lane. Chloe's cousin. She's mentioned you."

Before I could respond, Chloe appeared, waving me over. But as I left, I couldn't shake the feeling that Lois Lane was someone I'd be seeing again.