The Marvel Superman

"Shadow Knight" was the result of Adam acting upon the most profound memory in his mind over the past few years: "With great power comes great responsibility." In simple terms, he had become an urban hero.

Of course, he wasn't a widely recognized figure like Captain America. He merely assisted the police in solving tricky cases or intervened when he encountered crimes like nighttime robberies. He never operated during the day, always moving under the cover of darkness in a black high-collared trench coat. His steel-like physique and superhuman speed left behind only whispers of a legend known as Shadow Knight.

These stories existed only in casual conversations. No newspapers had ever reported on him, so apart from a few police officers and the people he had saved, the general public dismissed him as nothing more than an urban myth.

So when Howard said, "I know you're the Shadow Knight," Adam wasn't surprised. He knew there was no fooling his father. After all, when Tony first heard the legend of Shadow Knight, he immediately declared with certainty that Adam was the man behind the mask.

With his intelligence, Adam quickly deduced why Shadow Knight remained an urban legend instead of a heavily reported superhero: Howard had deliberately covered up his tracks, giving him the space to grow. This made Adam deeply grateful to his father.

Adam stepped forward and hugged Howard. "Thank you, Father, for always protecting me. Thank you for believing in me."

Howard nodded in satisfaction. "I know you've grown up, so I won't oppose your choices. But remember, you must keep your identity as Adam Stark a secret—it will save you from unnecessary trouble."

Adam shook his head and replied, "I understand, Father. And I'm sorry for hiding this from you before. I was afraid you'd disapprove. But since I have these abilities, I believe I should help those in need."

Howard patted his shoulder. "You've chosen a difficult path, my son. Remember what you've said today—it will shape your entire life. Now go, put this on. It's my small way of supporting you as your father."

Adam grinned. "Thanks, Dad. With your support, I fear nothing!"

As Adam looked at the suit, it felt eerily familiar—almost as if it was always meant for him. Eagerly, he stepped into the changing room and, using his super speed, donned it in an instant.

Taking a deep breath, he examined himself in the mirror. The dark blue suit clung to his powerful frame, the bold "S" on his chest standing out prominently. The deep red cape draped over his shoulders gave him a striking, almost mythical presence.

Stepping out, Adam spun once in front of Howard and asked excitedly, "How do I look, Dad? Handsome, right?"

Howard chuckled. "Very handsome. It suits you well. You truly look like a superhero now."

Adam laughed, then glanced at his chest. "By the way, what does this 'S' stand for? Shadow? Super?"

Howard stared at the crimson emblem, sensing it held a deeper meaning beyond just "Shadow" or "Super." "That's something you'll have to discover for yourself. When you understand the meaning of that symbol, you will truly become a superhero."

He knew that clones often inherited the memories of their originals, and Adam's lack of them was unusual. Exposure to cosmic radiation had altered him, removing the usual clone characteristics. However, Howard believed the original memories were still dormant in Adam's genes, waiting to awaken one day. So, he chose to let Adam find the answer on his own.

What he didn't know was that Adam had indeed inherited the original's memories—just in fragments. Adam never questioned his identity, assuming he was simply unique. After all, he was already special, wasn't he?

Adam took a few steps, testing his movements. "Dad, this design is amazing. I love it! And the colors—perfect. But don't you think the cape is unnecessary? It could make noise when I move at high speed, affecting my stealth."

Howard wasn't about to tell him that he might learn to fly one day. Instead, he shrugged. "Don't worry, that cape isn't just for show. It won't make a sound at high speeds. And don't you think it makes you look even cooler?" Unable to give a proper explanation, Howard resorted to the classic Stark family trait—bluffing with style.

Though Adam wasn't Howard's biological son, he had definitely inherited the Stark family's flair. Imagining the cape flowing behind him at super speed, he nodded. "You're right, Dad. You have a great eye for design. I love it."

Suddenly, he paused and looked toward the window. "Someone needs help—armed robbery. Looks like today isn't just the day I got my graduation gift; it's also my first job interview."

Howard smirked. "Go. But remember, hold back your strength—don't kill anyone. You're a superhero, not a vigilante. Your job is to subdue them, not punish them. That's for the courts to decide." As one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s founders, his perspective on superheroes was naturally different from most.

Adam nodded. "Got it, Dad. Don't worry, I won't put any judges out of a job. Time to go!"

Howard raised a hand to stop him. "Wait! There's one more thing for you."

Adam tilted his head. "Oh? Another gift? What is it?"

Howard spoke quickly, knowing time was of the essence. "You need something to conceal your identity. Here, this mask—I put a lot of work into it. When you wear it, no surveillance system will be able to capture your face clearly. No one will have any way of identifying you. Put it on." He handed Adam a sleek black mask, his true gift—something he had personally designed.

Adam took one look at it and was immediately hooked. Slipping it on, he grinned. "Thanks, Dad! I'll be right back!" And in a blink, he vanished.

---

Near Stark Tower, at a nearby bank, a scene straight out of a crime thriller was unfolding—an armed robbery.

While crime in America wasn't unheard of, bank robberies were rare. Yet tonight, it was happening.

A gang of armed men, their faces hidden behind grotesque pig masks, stormed into the bank, seizing hostages and looting cash. Despite it being nighttime, some customers were still present—after all, 24-hour banking was common. Those unfortunate enough to be inside were now at the mercy of the robbers, leaving the police outside powerless.

Manhattan's police chief glared at the scene, his fury mounting. "Henry, where's the SWAT team?"

His assistant, Henry, rushed over. "They've arrived. The captain is analyzing the situation and preparing a response."

"Tell them to hurry up! Damn it, who leaked this to the press? Get those reporters out of here!" Seeing the swarm of journalists desperately snapping photos, the chief's temper flared again.

Henry nodded. "Yes, sir! Right away!" He knew his boss didn't tolerate nonsense, so he quickly left.

Just then, a sudden gust of wind swept through the street.

By the time anyone noticed, it was already gone.

Henry shivered slightly. "Weird… where'd that wind come from?" He turned and saw a female reporter stepping dangerously close. "Hey, miss! You can't go in there! I don't care if you're a reporter—this is a crime scene!"

If anything happened to her, it wouldn't just be his job on the line.