The Eternals.
One of the most underrated races in the Marvel Universe.
Their cellular structure allows them to ingest any form of radiation and convert it into bio-energy through a process similar to nuclear fusion.
Sunlight, gamma rays, cosmic microwave background radiation…
Every member of the Eternals must undergo extensive training to master the output of this power—sometimes taking decades, sometimes centuries—learning how to channel cosmic energy for specific uses…
Including, but not limited to, physical enhancement, generating psychic forcefields, and manipulating psionic energy…
And King Hyperion was an Eternal among Eternals, a Hyperion among Hyperions.
Even fatigue toxins could be captured by his cells and converted into fuel.
Metabolic waste was merely an extra snack within King Hyperion’s physiological system.
Running wouldn’t tire him, staying up late wouldn’t make him sleepy, and the adrenaline produced by emotional fluctuations would be greedily recycled by his cells.
Thus, Desiree’s pheromones were essentially nothing more than muscle-building protein to the present Ariel.
[King Hyperion Progression: 38.1% -> 40%]
It even yielded nearly a two percent jump.
Eight years…
In eight years, relying on sunbathing, absorbing Kryptonite, and occasionally getting drenched in lightning during storms, he had only dragged his progression from 12% up to 38%…
Yet in those few short minutes on the rooftop…
Choking a woman by the neck, dangling her above an endless abyss, using heat vision to carve scorch marks into the concrete beside her ear, declaring dominance through absolute violence…
Two full percent in one go.
Ariel closed his eyes, the rain beating against his eyelids and sliding down the bridge of his nose.
Golden inscriptions surfaced in his mind:
—You are truth, admitting no compromise.
—Your thoughts admit no error.
—You will make the world a better place.
Overthrowing a whole flawed world by your own hand.
What he had just done fit the first rule to perfection.
That high-and-mighty tyrant who imposed his own will over others…
The progression conditions judged that this was King Hyperion.
Ariel opened his eyes.
Rain blurred his vision, but the corners of his mouth curled upward uncontrollably.
Water dripped from the soles of his shoes.
He tilted his head back.
Dark clouds rolled like crashing waves, lightning slithered like dragons, and Smallville’s lights arrayed themselves beneath his feet as the boundless wheat fields stretched endlessly toward the horizon.
Ariel took a deep breath, spreading his arms wide in intoxication.
Progression: 40%
He could now manipulate gravitons using his bio-electric aura.
The equivalence between mass and gravity no longer held true for him, and so…
The curtain of rain parted around his body!
Air currents compressed along the edges of his bio-field!
The wind howled past his ears until it shattered the sound barrier!
His speed climbed relentlessly!
BOOM—!
A sonic boom exploded around his body as a golden shadow pierced through the rain-bearing cloud layer.
Water droplets vaporized on the surface of his bio-field.
The air grew thinner and colder until he burst right out above the cloud tops!
The world fell silent.
A bright, pale moon hung in the vault of heaven, a sea of clouds churned beneath his feet, and the thunder was walled off beneath the dark storm clouds.
Ariel tilted his face up, the golden glow in his eyes fading under the moonlight.
“Phew…”
He exhaled a long breath of stale air.
Back when he wanted to fly, he used to beg Joanna to carry him, only to endure her cold face and disgust the whole time.
Eventually, Joanna stopped letting him ride altogether…
Hovering ten thousand meters in the air above a sea of clouds, the boy seemed to realize something in hindsight.
Ariel Kent felt he was truly deep in sin.
He had actually been like an idiot shouting let me ride you in Joanna’s ear for so many years…
No wonder she found him insufferable now…
“Sorry…”
Uttering a thoroughly insincere apology toward the sea of clouds, Ariel grinned and dived headfirst back into the storm.
What boy could say no to flying?
Just imagine: gravity loses its meaning over your body, the upper limit of your speed depends only on how much heat from air friction you can endure, cloud moisture condenses into a thin layer of ice around you only to be flash-heated to steam in the next instant, and with a simple barrel roll inside a rain-heavy cloud, electrical charges crackle along the edge of your bio-field, charging a cloud mass holding millions of volts…
BOOM—!!!
You get struck right in the knee by a bolt of lightning.
Grimacing as he hauled himself up from a mud pit, Ariel Kent felt that he really shouldn’t have left the house today without checking his horoscope.
“Got it!
I got it!!”
Chloe practically jumped out of the backseat of Pete’s secondhand Beetle.
“Sit down!
You’re gonna punch a hole through my roof!”
Pete clutched the steering wheel in sheer panic.
“Look!
Look at the lightning!
I caught the lightning on camera!”
Pete glanced at the screen out of the corner of his eye, then slammed hard on the brakes.
The Beetle skidded along the highway, finally coming to a crooked stop on the shoulder.
He stared at the camera in utter bewilderment.
“Chloe, take another look?!”
“What?”
Chloe pulled the camera back, only to see that right in the center of the lightning strike on the screen, there was faintly…
a human outline?
Arms slightly spread, legs together, head tilted back as if nailed to a cross of lightning.
“This is…” Chloe froze.
“I told you!” Pete blabbered in wild excitement.
“Smallville is weird!
All kinds of bizarre stuff happens here!
Remember last year when old man Smith claimed he saw a pig with eyes that shot electricity, a chicken that could fly into outer space, and a football captain who was actually a werewolf?
Even cornfields that randomly spawn aliens!
And today, this has gotta be some cultivator from the East coming here to face a heavenly tribulation!”
The Kent Farm.
Clark stared at the dancing flames in the fireplace, unable to suppress the smile on his face no matter what.
Jonathan watched him with a look of concern.
Ever since Clark ran back home, he had been grinning like a fool.
Click—
Joanna pushed the door open and stepped inside, a black umbrella folded in her right hand, a few stray locks of hair clinging wetly to her cheek.
Expressionless, she set the umbrella on the rack by the door.
Her blue eyes, almost translucent, swept across the living room as she frowned slightly.
Jonathan by the fireplace, Clark, Martha in the kitchen…
Everyone except that guy.
“Where’s Ariel?”
Jonathan lowered his newspaper and looked behind Joanna.
Outside, there was only the sound of rain and darkness.
Jonathan’s brow furrowed, and he glanced at the clock on the wall.
The rainstorm outside was growing heavier.
“He didn’t leave with you?” Jonathan pressed.
“He’s not mine,” Joanna sat down on the sofa, clicking the remote control with annoyance.
“Why would he leave with me?”
Jonathan opened his mouth, but looking at his niece’s icy expression, it ultimately turned into a sigh.
Were the kids really starting to dislike him?
The old farmer pressed his hand against his chest.
Felt hurt.
“Joanna…” Clark slunk over mysteriously.
“I found out something super awesome today—”
“Shut up.”
Clark: “…”
Jonathan bit back a laugh, suddenly feeling much better.
“Joanna…” Martha poked her head out from the kitchen, flour still dusting her apron.
“Just got back from Mona’s?
Are you hungry?
The apple pie just came out of the oven.”
“…Mm,” Joanna nodded.
“Thanks, Aunt Martha.”
Clark took a deep breath, silently retracting his gaze.
He wanted to find someone to complain to about this unfair double standard, but seeing Jonathan struggle not to laugh, Clark chose to keep his mouth shut.
Minutes turned into hours.
Clark’s foolish grin finally faded, replaced by constant glances toward the window.
“I’ll go check,” Jonathan stood up, putting on his straw hat.
Just as he reached for the flashlight…
Click—
The doorknob turned.
A blast of cold air poured into the living room.
The golden-haired boy stood on the porch, semi-dry mud caked on his sneakers, his T-shirt clinging to his torso and outlining his muscles.
Yet his expression…
Carried a smile he couldn’t suppress if he tried.
“Hey, family,” Ariel shook the water from his hair, raising a hand to greet everyone in the room.
“I’m back.”
Clark stood up from the sofa, his blue eyes blinking in the firelight.
“Where’d you go?” He looked his mud-covered younger brother up and down.
“Why are you smiling like that?
Did you go stupid?”
“I don’t wanna hear that from you of all people,” Ariel was speechless.
“Why don’t you take a look at the foolish grin on your own face?”
Clark’s smile grew even broader.
“Ariel!
What happened to you!” Martha rubbed and pinched his face with both hands.
“Are you cold?
Are you hurt anywhere?
You child, how could you leave without an umbrella—”
“Forgot it, forgot it,” Ariel surrendered, raising his hands as Martha kneaded him back and forth.
“Mom, stop rubbing, my face isn’t dough…
I just got caught in the rain on the way back.”
“So why were you so late coming home?” Jonathan crossed his arms with a stern expression.
“Ahem…
I went to Pete’s place to help him develop photos.”
“Then why did Clark say you were at school?” Jonathan frowned.
Ariel’s mouth twitched as he cast a glance at the smirking Clark.
Snitching?!
What happened to being a man of your word, Superman!
“Enough, now isn’t the time for this,” Martha walked out holding a bath towel and a set of clean pajamas.
“Take off those wet clothes first and go take a shower!”
Ariel accepted his fate with a sigh, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it up over his head.
Martha gave a gentle smile, then looked over at the girl who had stood up from the sofa, preparing to return to her room.
“Joanna, could you take Ariel’s dirty clothes to the laundry room?
I still have dishes to finish.”
“…Why me?” Joanna frowned.
“Because it’s on your way.”
Joanna pinched the clothes Ariel handed over.
“…What is this smell?” she asked.
“How about I do it myself?” Ariel touched the golden curl dangling over his forehead sheepishly.
“You don’t have to…”
“Shut up,” Joanna turned to leave.
“Aunt Martha asked me to.”
“I mean…
you look like you really don’t wanna touch it…”
Her footsteps paused.
The girl with golden hair draping beside her ears turned around, her blue eyes finally meeting his head-on.
“You think I can’t handle a simple task like this?”
Translation: Are you questioning me?
Why couldn’t she ever fix this habit of getting randomly aggressive since childhood?
“No, no,” Ariel raised both hands helplessly.
“Whatever makes you happy.”
Laundry room.
After closing the door, Joanna’s throat moved subtly.
The fabric was squeezed repeatedly in her hands.
With every press, more water seeped out, and more scent was released from deep within the fibers, caught by her super-senses.
Joanna closed her eyes…
This was the sun…
HUM—!
Joanna’s eyes snapped open as a faint grapefruit fragrance drifted into her nostrils.
Who was it?
She pressed her nose against the clothing.
Who was it?
Which woman was it?!
Whose scent was left on Ariel’s clothes?
Who dirtied her sun?!
A crimson glow spilled from her pupils.
HISS—!
A flame burst forth on the fabric, licking against the girl’s fingers.
Joanna?!”
Clark stood at the door, his eyes widening unconsciously.
A burning T-shirt.
And Joanna’s crimson eyes.
He rushed over to the laundry sink, turned on the faucet, snatched the burning garment from Joanna’s hand, and stuffed it under the stream of water.
SPLASH—!
The flame was doused.
Clark exhaled a breath, leaning his hands on the edge of the sink.
He turned his head, wanting to ask what had happened.
But the girl was already gone.
Clark looked down at the battered T-shirt in the sink; a palm-sized scorched hole had been burned through the collar.
Did she really hate Ariel that much?
Clark genuinely couldn’t wrap his head around it.
He knew that to outsiders, Joanna and Ariel’s relationship had always been the classic contrast of ice and fire…
Ariel was warm, Joanna was cold…
But no matter how cold she was, there was no need to go and burn his clothes, right?
He fished the shirt out of the water, unfolding it to inspect the damage.
Beyond saving.
Not even Martha could patch this hole, unless she planned on sewing a sunflower right over Ariel’s chest.
Clark sighed.
He wrung out the water, holding it up to see if any part had survived.
After all, the farm hadn’t been doing well lately; sewing a sunflower on it so he, as the big brother, could wear it wasn’t out of the question.
“Clark?!”
“…?!”
Behind him.
Clark turned his head in a daze.
Ariel was standing at the laundry room door.
“You…?”
Ariel looked at the scorched, hole-ridden T-shirt in Clark’s hands.
“It wasn’t me!” Clark’s mouth twitched.
“I was just checking…”
“Clark,” Ariel said expressionlessly.
“I finally know.”
“Know what?”
“Why my clothes have had a strange smell since last year,” Ariel said with a blank face.
“I thought my closet had gotten damp, but I turned the whole thing upside down and found nothing.
I never expected…”
“It was you all along,” Ariel said word by word.
“Clark Kent, you’ve been secretly wearing my clothes…”
“What on earth are you talking about?
Joanna burned it!”
“Joanna burned my clothes?”
“…Yes.”
“For real!”
Clark declared in a tone that sounded like he was ready to cry.
“Fine,” Ariel put his hands behind his back.
“Then I choose to believe you.”
Clark let out a massive sigh of relief.
“But your allowance for next month is mine.
Consider it compensation for emotional distress.”
“I told you it wasn’t me!” Clark went wild with frustration.
“Anyway, if I catch you again,” Ariel snorted coldly, “I’ll donate all your plaid shirts to the Boy Scouts.
“Including the souvenir one hidden under your bed that says ‘Scout First’.”
“How do you know about that—!”
BANG—!
The answer was the door slamming shut.
Clark’s mouth twitched as he silently threw the cold T-shirt into the trash.
Should’ve listened to the old saying—you live and you learn.
If I knew this would happen, I would’ve destroyed the evidence!
Today.
Smallville High’s biology lab finally welcomed its new teacher.
However, when Desiree Atkins walked up to the podium, the students were visibly disappointed.
The notoriously glamorous and sultry biology teacher was actually wearing a turtleneck sweater today, sealing away every trace of cleavage.
She even wore a lab coat over it, and her short shorts had been swapped for a skirt that fell past her knees.
In the front row, Derrick pulled his neck back, his shoulders slumping as he let out a suppressed sigh.
It seemed that today, the males of Smallville High would finally be able to perform their schoolwork using their upper brains.
“Turn to page seventy-three.
Today, we’ll discuss the regulatory role of pheromones in population behavior.
You there, Mr.
Kent.
What is the fundamental difference between pheromones and hormones?” Desiree picked a name at random.
Clark froze.
“Ariel…” he muttered under his breath.
Unfortunately, Ariel didn’t even raise his head, continuously scribbling and drawing away on his scratch paper.
“Mr.
Kent, your grades have room for improvement.”
Listening to the friendly chuckles around him, Clark sat down with a flushed face.
A moment later, a pair of resentful eyes from Clark peered quietly toward Ariel.
Still ignoring his foolish brother, the boy merely mouthed two words without expression:
Keep going and I’m telling teacher.
Clark was stunned.
Before he could figure it out, he saw Ariel shoot a glance toward the podium.
“Mr.
Clark Kent,” Desiree’s tone was strictly business.
“Please come to my office after class.
We can discuss your less-than-ideal biology rank, as well as your lack of focus during class.”
“I…”
“Quiet, Mr.
Kent.”
The surrounding classmates cast envious and jealous looks.
Poor Clark, he’s definitely going to Desiree’s office after class to get torn apart, huh?
How tragic.
So tragic that Derrick wished his own grades were a little worse.
Ariel held back a laugh, lowering his head once more to return his attention to the scratch paper in front of him.
With a few casual strokes, a man wearing a stars-and-stripes jumpsuit sprang to life on the page.
This was Ariel Kent’s commemorative comic tribute to honor his uncle, Benjamin Kent.
As for the title…
—My Uncle Captain America.