Reforged in the Sun: Clark Kent Reborn SI

November 7, 2002

The world had started to feel... different.

It wasn't the gradual shift of the seasons, with fall giving way to the icy grip of winter. It wasn't the new tensions brewing between me and Whitney or the way Lana's presence seemed to make everything else fade into the background. No, this was something deeper—something inside me.

I leaned against my locker, rubbing my temples as the morning chaos of Smallville High swirled around me. Sounds that were once background noise—the clang of lockers, the muffled laughter of students, the tapping of heels on the tile floor—now felt sharper, louder, as if someone had cranked the volume dial.

I'd noticed it on the walk to school, too. My steps had felt lighter, my body moving faster than I meant it to. Even my breath felt controlled in a way that didn't seem normal.

"Clark!" Chloe's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I turned, wincing slightly as her voice hit my ears harder than usual. She stood a few feet away, a curious look on her face, holding her ever-present laptop bag.

"You okay?" she asked. "You look like you just ran a marathon."

"I'm fine," I said quickly, forcing a small smile.

"You sure?" she pressed. "Because if you're coming down with something, I'm pretty sure Lana's going to want a replacement partner for science class."

"Really, Chloe, I'm fine," I said again, softer this time.

But even as I said it, a strange sensation rippled through my body. It wasn't pain, exactly—it was more like a low hum in my chest, like something was waking up.

Chemistry class was supposed to be uneventful. Lana and I were double-checking our experiment for the upcoming science presentation, and everything seemed to be running smoothly. The hum of Bunsen burners and the faint smell of ammonia filled the air as students worked at their stations.

Lana handed me a beaker, her fingers brushing mine briefly. "Can you add the solution while I adjust the turbine?"

"Yeah, no problem," I said, trying to focus.

But the hum in my chest had grown stronger. My hand trembled slightly as I picked up the solution, and before I realized what was happening, the glass shattered in my grip.

"Clark!" Lana exclaimed, jumping back as the liquid spilled across the table.

I froze, staring at the shards of glass in my hand. I hadn't squeezed it that hard—or at least, I didn't think I had. But the jagged pieces glittered in the fluorescent light, a stark reminder of how much stronger I was becoming.

"I—I'm sorry," I stammered, grabbing a paper towel to clean up the mess.

"It's okay," Lana said, her tone gentle but concerned. "Are you sure you're all right? You've been acting… off lately."

"I'm fine," I said quickly, avoiding her gaze. "Just distracted."

She didn't look convinced, but she didn't press further. As she turned back to the project, I clenched my fists, feeling the strength in my hands like a coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment.

By the time lunch rolled around, the hum in my chest had spread. It was like my entire body was buzzing with energy, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something big was about to happen.

I sat with Pete and Chloe at our usual table, but I barely heard a word they were saying. Every sound in the cafeteria seemed amplified—the scrape of forks on trays, the murmur of voices, the distant thud of the vending machine dispensing a soda.

"You're zoning out," Chloe said, waving a fry in front of my face like a wand. "The Clark Kent thousand-yard stare. It's becoming your trademark. Something on your mind?"

Pete chuckled, tossing a crumpled napkin toward me. "Yeah, man. It's like you're somewhere else half the time these days. What's going on? You hiding some big secret from us?"

I forced a laugh, trying to shake the overwhelming sensations that had been building since morning. "Nothing. Just… tired, I guess."

Chloe raised an eyebrow, her natural reporter instincts kicking in. "Tired from what? It's not like you're juggling football practice, extracurriculars, and a part-time job like Pete over here. Come on, Clark. What's eating you?"

I shifted uncomfortably, the buzzing sensation in my chest rising again. Pete and Chloe were joking around, but I could feel their curiosity. And as much as I wanted to share the truth, I couldn't. Not yet.

"Just farm work," I said finally, poking at my food.

Pete snorted. "Farm work, huh? That's your excuse for everything. What, did you carry a tractor across the field again?"

I froze for a second, Pete's words hitting closer to reality than he realized.

Chloe's sharp green eyes flicked to me, her curiosity deepening. "Clark, are you sure you're okay? You've been acting really weird lately. If something's going on, you know you can tell us, right?"

"I'm fine," I said quickly, standing up. The buzzing in my chest had started climbing into my head now, making it hard to focus. "I just need some air."

Before they could say anything else, I walked away, pushing open the cafeteria doors and stepping into the cool, quiet hallway.

The field behind Smallville High was a quiet refuge where students went to escape the noise of the day. But for me, it was a place to think—a place to get away when I felt like I was losing control.

The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of freshly cut grass and fall leaves. I stood near the edge of the field, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, but the buzzing sensation in my chest only grew stronger. It wasn't just buzzing anymore—it was heat.

I exhaled slowly, opening my eyes, and that's when it happened.

The heat surged upward, rushing into my head, and suddenly my vision shifted. The world around me sharpened, and colors grew brighter. I blinked, and for a moment, I could see through the trees at the edge of the field. Beyond them, I could see the old football shed, the worn-out equipment inside, and even a squirrel darting across the far side of the school grounds.

What is happening to me?

I staggered back, my heart pounding. My vision returned to normal, but the afterimage of what I'd seen lingered.

"X-ray vision," I muttered under my breath, the words sinking in.

The humming in my chest had been building to this—a new power. I wasn't just stronger or faster now. I could see through things.

But why? Why now?

Later that day, I made my way to the hardware store to pick up more supplies for the bunker. The old aisles felt oddly familiar now, their shelves lined with tools, nails, and bolts.

Kyle Cushing was at the counter again, leaning back on his stool as he skimmed a newspaper. When he saw me, he waved me over.

"Back again, huh?" he said with a grin. "Didn't scare you off last time, did I?"

I chuckled nervously, setting the supplies on the counter. "No, just needed a few more things."

Kyle scanned the items, then paused, studying me. "You look like you've got a lot on your mind, kid. Everything okay?"

I hesitated. I didn't know Kyle that well, but there was something about him—his easygoing nature, the way he could read people. Maybe it was the firefighter in him, always ready to step in and help.

"Have you ever felt like you're… changing?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "You mean, like growing up? Or something deeper?"

I shrugged, trying to play it off. "I don't know. Just… like you're starting to notice things about yourself you didn't realize were there."

Kyle leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter. "Clark, I've been through a lot of changes in my life. Some good, some bad. But the one thing I've learned is that change isn't something to fear. It's something to understand. If you fight it, you'll only make it worse. But if you lean into it, you might just figure out who you're meant to be."

His words stuck with me as I left the store, the weight of my evolving powers pressing down on me.

The bunker beneath the barn was dimly lit, the soft glow of Kryptonian tech casting shadows on the steel walls. The air smelled faintly of metal and earth, and the faint hum of the core I'd retrieved from the beacon filled the space.

I stood at the workbench, staring down at the fragment of Kryptonian memory technology I'd uncovered in the school basement. Its faint blue glow seemed to pulse in time with the hum in my chest.

"Jor-El," I said quietly, reaching for the orb on the desk.

The holographic interface flickered to life, and Jor-El's calm voice filled the room. "Yes, my son?"

"My powers," I said, struggling to find the words. "They're… changing. I can see things now. Through walls. Through… everything. What's happening to me?"

Jor-El's expression remained calm, but there was a faint hint of pride in his voice. "Your Kryptonian physiology is adapting to Earth's environment. The yellow sun nourishes you, awakening abilities that are dormant under a red sun. This is only the beginning, Kal-El. In time, you will discover powers far beyond what you now possess."

My stomach tightened. "Why now? Why all at once?"

"Your exposure to the beacon and its energy may have accelerated the process," Jor-El explained. "But these changes were inevitable. You are becoming what you were always meant to be."

I ran a hand through my hair, the weight of his words settling over me. "What if I can't control it? What if I hurt someone?"

"Control comes with understanding," Jor-El said. "And understanding comes with time. Do not fear your abilities, my son. Embrace them."

I nodded slowly, staring at the fragment on the workbench. The path ahead felt more uncertain than ever, but I couldn't let fear stop me.

The world needed me, and I needed to be ready.