Five years go by fast, without one even realizing it…
I found myself sitting on top of a hill near our property, observing the immensity of the stars in the night sky of Kansas.
The cool breeze shook my red hair while the silence of the countryside surrounded me.
“Time goes by really fast…” I murmured to myself.
My past life, although I still remembered it clearly, now felt like an extremely distant memory, almost blurry.
During all this time, I had often wondered what the hell I was supposed to do with my existence in this new world.
Should I be like most of the protagonists from the novels I used to read?
You know, let the main plot unfold on its own without interfering too much, or take an active role and help everything move toward a better path.
Of course, the first option was fucking difficult.
ROB had technically transmigrated me and given me a house ridiculously close to the Kents.
Trying not to participate in the plot while living a few kilometers from the epicenter of the universe was almost a joke.
Those philosophical dilemmas stopped following a predictable path the day Superman’s ship fell from the sky.
Seeing that there was no meteor shower, I immediately knew this was not the Earth-167 universe.
“What am I supposed to do?” I murmured, letting out a sigh.
To be fair, I hadn’t been that idle during this last five-year span.
I had been thoroughly investigating the world I was in.
I no longer stayed locked in the house training like in my early days, although to be honest, I still hadn’t done anything truly significant on a global scale.
The most relevant thing I had achieved in these five years was advancing my relationship with both girls; now Karen, Laurel, and I were officially together as a couple, sharing a real life.
But aside from that and raising two super-powerful kids…
nothing else.
“But seriously, I have no idea where the hell I am,” I murmured, taking an old book out of my jacket while letting out a small laugh as I remembered how I had found it.
It happened a couple of years ago.
I had accompanied Karen and Laurel to the town of Smallville to buy supplies for the farm, like diapers and food.
While the girls were busy shopping, I decided to sneak into an old bookstore in the town to check the history and mystery book section.
And I really got a big surprise during my little research whim.
I bought one of those books that talk about “Hidden Secrets of the War.” When I opened it at home, I found an entire section dedicated to something called “The Angel of the Trenches: Nubia.”
The book contained an old black-and-white photograph, quite blurry, but clear enough for my super vision.
In it, there was an imposing dark-skinned woman, armed with a lance, a shield with Greek iconography, and the iconic Amazon bracelets, standing firmly on the remains of a destroyed war tank.
The text explained that the woman had mysteriously disappeared from human history right after defeating a supposed “high-ranking German officer” during the war.
I, of course, immediately assumed that officer was Ares, the God of War.
At first, I felt very confused.
Why had this woman replaced her?
Although in my past life I had read some comics and watched series or movies, I didn’t consider myself an expert or a hardcore DC fan.
I ended up assuming this was simply an alternate universe where Diana was not the first Wonder Woman, but this Nubia.
I had to accept that revelation reluctantly.
The second thing I focused on during these five years was never stopping my watch over our dear and childish Superman.
Months after the ship crashed, the Kents announced in town that they had adopted a baby.
That was also different from the Smallville series, where Clark is already about three years old when he arrives on Earth.
The funny thing is that, after studying Jonathan and Martha’s physical appearance closely, I discovered they really did look a lot like the actors from the TV series.
However, since little Clark was only five years old now, I couldn’t be 100% sure of his acting identity.
I would have to wait for him to grow a bit more to identify if he had Tom Welling’s features.
Honestly, I was hoping with all my soul that, despite the strange changes in this universe, this Clark would still be that version.
After all, to me, that is the strongest Superman in history before he gave up his powers, considering he was capable of pushing the entire planet Apokolips with his hands.
Shaking my head, I cleared those thoughts about the neighbor and returned to my own future.
“Be a hero…?” I asked out loud.
I quickly shook my head with a grimace of disgust.
Although the idea of wearing a suit and saving the day sounded cool on paper, the mere thought of responsibility and media harassment gave me a massive headache.
Of course, if I saw a problem right in front of me or someone in danger, I wouldn’t have any problem lending a hand; but dedicating myself to that full-time…
just thinking about it gave me chills.
I looked at the starry sky and thought about everything I knew about DC, biting my lower lip in frustration.
Having Kryptonian powers—even if I was technically a hybrid thanks to ROB’s gifts—was everyone’s dream.
But this was the DC universe.
A ridiculously dangerous place.
Trying to stay on the sidelines, pretending to be a normal person and staying unnoticed might work for a while, but in this world full of alien invasions and crazy deities, it was unlikely to last forever.
Besides, I still didn’t know for sure which villains I would have to face in the future.
Then I thought about my girls and our “kids,” Brandon and John.
I remembered all the happy moments we had shared in these five years on the farm.
The mere idea that something bad could happen to them, or that some psychopathic clown could detonate a kryptonite bomb near them, made my fists clench so hard that the air cracked under the pressure of my fingers.
‘Even if I don’t want to be a hero or anything like that, staying completely passive is a terrible idea,’ I thought with absolute firmness, letting my eyes shine with determination.
‘I must prepare for everything.
I can’t let myself be carried away by the false peace of these last five years.’
I stood up in a jump, floating a few centimeters off the ground.
“Luckily, even though I haven’t saved the world in these years, my physical strength has increased massively,” I told myself with a confident smile.
My powers were now perfectly controlled.
My fighting technique had been perfected and refined to the extreme thanks to the brutal daily training with Laurel and Karen.
I had never stopped training in these five years, maintaining the strict routine of going out to absorb sunlight every morning.
Taking advantage of the night, I flew at super speed straight home, landing silently on the porch.
However, as soon as I stepped through the front door, I came across a rather intense scene.
Laurel was in the middle of the living room, severely scolding little Brandon.
Using my super hearing, I immediately caught the context: apparently, Brandon had broken something by accident due to his developing strength.
“Sweetheart, don’t scold the little one so much,” I immediately intervened in a soft voice, approaching to help the child and take his side.
“They’re still kids, they break things by accident all the time.”
Laurel looked at her man with a mixture of helplessness and amusement, letting out a long sigh.
She knew perfectly well that I adored the little ones and always ended up acting as their protective shield whenever they made a mess in the house.
However, a playful look appeared on the blonde’s face without me noticing in time.
Pretending to agree with my words, Laurel nodded and crossed her arms.
“Well…
maybe you’re right, Conner.
They’re just kids…” she said in a suspiciously sweet tone.
I smiled, feeling victorious, and was about to say something to change the subject when Laurel continued with a sideways smile:
“Well, little Brandon, go and clean up your father’s drawings that you destroyed.
At least you should clean up the mess you caused, don’t you think?”
The smile on my face froze completely.
I slowly turned my head toward the direction Laurel was pointing at.
Not far away, scattered across the living room floor, was a huge pile of papers completely shredded and torn into a thousand pieces.
I recognized them immediately.
They were the drawings I had made myself during these five years.
In my moments of boredom on the farm, when I didn’t know what else to do aside from farm work, I had dedicated myself to trying to draw my favorite manga from my past life.
At first I was a terrible artist, but with Kryptonian practice I managed to improve drastically, recreating entire pages of my favorite stories…
and now all of that was confetti.
I stared at little Brandon.
For a brief and dark second, I wished with all my strength that in the future the kid would actually try to rebel and become evil like the protagonist of the movie Brightburn, just so I would have the perfect excuse to “educate” him with my fists and correct him properly.
Brandon just stood there, looking at me with a completely innocent smile.
But as if his survival instincts warned him of my father’s sudden deadly gaze, he ran at super speed to clean up the mess on the floor, fearing that this time I would not protect him from Laurel.