"Actually, Mom, Dad… you really don't need to worry about me."
Victor had already decided that now was the right time. After gaining new abilities, he no longer intended to hide everything from his parents.
The Eternal physiology still had to remain secret—its strange appearance would only frighten them—but his ability to manipulate energy could be revealed.
"What do you mean?"
Jonathan and Martha exchanged confused looks when they heard their son speak so calmly.
Buzz.
A faint smile flashed in Victor's eyes. He raised his hand slowly, and a concentrated sphere of purple energy condensed above his palm.
The energy did not explode outward. Instead it hovered quietly, glowing like a miniature purple sun.
"I also have a few special abilities," Victor said lightly. "Protecting myself isn't a problem."
The purple light illuminated the entire room.
Jonathan and Martha stared in stunned silence.
"S-son… what… what is that?"
Their voices trembled as they looked at the light emerging from their youngest son's hand.
Clark's eyes widened as well. The scene unfolding before him was nothing like the one he had imagined when Victor finally revealed his powers.
For several seconds the living room was completely silent.
You could almost hear a needle drop.
…
Victor left his parents downstairs to slowly process the shocking news. He went upstairs to prepare for the trip, and Clark followed closely behind him.
"Energy manipulation?"
Clark still looked stunned.
"You actually hid part of your abilities from me."
If Clark had gained abilities himself, he would have told Victor immediately. The thought that Victor had kept this secret made him feel slightly hurt.
"It's something that awakened recently," Victor replied calmly.
Inside his bedroom, he pulled a large wooden box out from beneath the bed. The box was about the size of a baby's cradle, yet Victor lifted it effortlessly and placed it on the table.
"Really?"
Clark looked suspicious.
"Believe it or not."
Clark studied his brother's face for a moment. Victor didn't look like he was lying.
He was about to ask when exactly this ability had awakened—
Click.
Victor opened the box.
Clark froze instantly.
Inside the box lay dozens of meteorites glowing faintly green. Large pieces, small fragments—there were at least seventy or eighty of them.
"T-these are meteorites?!"
Clark stared in horror.
"Why are there so many?"
If Clark still had his powers, he might have fainted the moment the box opened.
He slowly turned to stare at Victor.
"Why would you collect this many meteorites?"
"Collecting things isn't illegal," Victor said with a raised eyebrow. "Is it?"
Clark nearly fainted from frustration.
"You think I'd believe that?"
Victor had only discovered Clark's meteorite weakness a few days earlier. Yet somehow he had already gathered enough meteorites to build a grave.
In truth, Victor had been collecting these fragments years ago. Once he gathered enough, he simply stopped looking for more.
Buzz.
Victor picked up a slightly larger meteorite.
Purple energy flared in his eyes as a narrow beam shot out. Under precise control, the beam sliced across the meteorite like a laser cutting metal.
Chunks of the outer stone shell fell away smoothly, melting under the concentrated energy.
"You can shoot energy from your eyes too?"
Clark stared in surprise.
"What are you doing?"
"It's inconvenient carrying a rock everywhere."
Victor worked quickly while speaking calmly.
"And the natural radiation from raw meteorites isn't strong enough."
After finishing the precise cuts, he blew away the fragments. Green dust scattered through the air like glowing snow.
The purple light in his eyes faded.
Resting in Victor's palm was a polished ring carved from the inner crystal of the meteorite. It looked like a flawless emerald, glowing with a faint green fluorescence even under daylight.
Clark stared at the ring.
His face turned slightly green as well.
Even though meteorites no longer weakened him physically, the psychological fear remained.
He instinctively stepped backward.
"Victor… when you bring Avery back… you'll destroy that thing, right?"
Victor slipped the kryptonite ring onto his right index finger.
He simply smiled and said nothing.
Clark swallowed.
"You… will destroy it… right?"
His voice contained almost no confidence.
…
Clark originally wanted to accompany Victor to Gotham.
But Jonathan and Martha firmly refused. Without his powers, Clark would only place himself in danger and complicate the situation.
Victor went downstairs.
He didn't pack luggage. The kryptonite ring alone was enough.
At the front door, Jonathan and Martha still looked worried.
"Kid, are you really confident you can bring Avery back without getting hurt?"
Even after seeing Victor's abilities, the idea of their son traveling alone to another dangerous city still frightened them.
"It'll be fine."
Victor smiled slightly.
After revealing part of his abilities, he felt far more relaxed.
"My energy manipulation is extremely good at defense," he explained. "Clark couldn't break through it even with his attacks."
"Really?"
Jonathan and Martha both turned to Clark.
Clark nodded firmly.
"Yes."
In truth, he had never tested it. But now definitely wasn't the time to increase their parents' worries.
"Victor… be careful."
Clark stepped forward and hugged his younger brother tightly.
Guilt filled his chest.
Logically speaking, Victor was doing all this because of him.
Victor hugged his parents as well.
Then he turned and waved casually.
"Gotham isn't far away. I'll be back in a few days."
Jonathan wrapped an arm around Martha as they watched their son leave.
Concern filled his eyes.
"I hope God protects our Victor."
Victor didn't need to turn around to imagine their expressions. He couldn't help feeling slightly helpless.
When he hid his abilities, they worried about his safety.
Now that they knew about them… they still worried just as much.
With a faint blur of motion, Victor's figure vanished from the spot, leaving behind a fading afterimage as he sped away.
…
Gotham was not far from Metropolis.
The two great cities stood across a river from each other, connected through constant economic and cultural exchange.
Like Metropolis, Gotham was a modern metropolis filled with towering skyscrapers. The city even possessed a complex elevated rail system running like arteries through the skyline, carrying life and energy toward its heart—Wayne Tower.
But unlike Metropolis, Gotham's shining surface concealed a darker reality.
Behind the wealth and architecture lurked corruption, crime, and decay.
Tick.
Lead-gray clouds covered the sky while cold rain dripped endlessly onto the streets.
A soaked bird perched on a gargoyle statue atop a tall building, shaking water from its feathers. Its head tilted downward toward the street below.
Reflected in its eyes, a black umbrella slowly moved across the road.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Gotham always feels like it's trapped under endless clouds and rain."
Victor lifted the edge of his umbrella slightly while watching an elevated train rumble past on concrete tracks.
At least during the few times he had visited this city before, he had never once seen sunshine.
"In a place this damp and dark, it's no surprise that mold and rot grow everywhere."
Not far away, inside a narrow alley, a pale man sniffed nervously as he pulled out a roll of cash. He glanced around anxiously while urging someone to hurry with the goods.
Several others stood in line behind him.
An elderly homeless man leaned against the wall nearby, his thin body curled weakly against the cold ground. His dull eyes reflected the gray sky above.
Several young drifters gathered around a burning trash can, stretching their gloved hands toward the flames. When they noticed Victor looking in their direction, they glared back like stray dogs guarding territory.
And this—
Was the busy city center of Gotham.
Victor shook his head slightly.
He climbed the steps and folded his umbrella before entering Gotham National Bank, a massive building with an exterior resembling an ancient stone castle.
"Without super hearing and super vision like Clark," he muttered to himself, "finding one person in a city of millions won't be easy."
First, he needed money.
The outside of the bank looked ancient, but the interior was bright and luxurious. Marble pillars supported the ceiling, brown leather sofas lined the lobby, and elegant display counters reflected warm light.
The atmosphere blended classical architecture with modern comfort.
"Everything old eventually becomes new again!"
A neatly dressed lobby manager chatted enthusiastically with customers drinking complimentary coffee.
"Back in the old days, coffee machines couldn't filter the grounds properly," he joked. "Customers used to walk out with coffee grounds stuck in their teeth."
He spread his arms proudly.
"But look at Gotham National Bank today! Clean environment, modern equipment, high-tech security systems. We guarantee the safety of your wealth."
Victor walked across the polished marble floor, ignoring the enthusiastic speech as he approached the counter.
"I'm sure everyone prefers the bank the way it is now."
"Don't speak too soon, sir!"
A loud voice suddenly cut through the lobby.
Several men in suits burst through the doors. Each carried a submachine gun and wore a bright red hood.
The leader pointed his weapon casually at the manager.
"I actually prefer the banks from sixty years ago," he joked.
"Back then the vault doors weren't so thick. Nowadays even a tank couldn't blow them open."
Bang!
A gunshot exploded through the lobby.
Before anyone could react, the bank manager collapsed with a bullet through his head.
Screams erupted throughout the bank.
"Following tradition never hurts anyone."
The leader smiled politely as the body fell to the floor. He placed a finger against his lips as if calming a noisy audience.
"You should all lie on the ground quietly," he said softly.
"Like mice hiding in church rafters."
"Otherwise we'll decorate the walls with you."
Robbing a national bank in broad daylight.
Less than an hour after arriving in Gotham, Victor had already encountered one of the city's specialties.
He glanced around.
"So impatient."
Every robber wore a red hood, black suit, and even a red rose pinned to their chest. They looked more like guests attending a formal banquet than criminals committing robbery.
Stylish.
But Gotham had never lacked stylish criminals.
"Oh?"
The leader suddenly noticed something.
"There's a gentleman here who didn't follow instructions."
Everyone else in the lobby had already dropped to the floor in terror.
Only Victor remained standing, calmly observing the scene with mild curiosity.
The robber leader chuckled.
"Red Hood Five," he said with a wave of his hand.
"Teach this gentleman a lesson he'll remember for the rest of his life."
One of the robbers stepped forward.
He rushed toward Victor and shoved a gun against his head.
"Kneel!"
His voice was low and threatening.
"I said kneel!"
He kicked Victor hard behind the knee.
It felt like kicking a steel pillar.
Victor didn't move at all.
Pain shot through the robber's foot as surprise flashed beneath his hood.
Victor raised an eyebrow slightly.
"I've heard life in Gotham is difficult."
He looked calmly at the man in front of him and chuckled softly.
"But I never expected Bruce Wayne, the owner of Wayne Enterprises…"
"to end up robbing banks too."
....
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