"Clark?!"
A familiar voice called out, awakening Clark.
The apocalyptic scene of ruins and Eric holding a spear proclaiming "Darkseid is dead" vanished instantly.
His consciousness returned to his brain, disconnecting from the shocking vision and re-establishing his sensory connection to reality.
"Are you okay?"
Seeing Clark holding a book and lost in thought, Eric frowned and asked.
"Yes, I'm fine."
Clark exhaled with lingering fear, "I just... I just thought of something."
The vivid scene he had just seen made him doubt whether it was an accidental glimpse into the future or merely an illusion produced by his mind.
With uncertainty, he glanced at Eric. In the vision, Eric seemed to have become a terrifying entity, and Clark seemed to be on his side. So, what exactly happened?
"This book…"
Eric, unaware of Clark's inner turmoil and fear, took the ancient-looking book from his hands.
Feeling the evil, mysterious aura emanating from it, he briefly glanced at the text.
It was a mix of obscure ancient Latin and Old English, describing strange rituals and magical ceremonies.
"It seems to be some kind of black magic. This doesn't suit your current sunny, youthful image, Clark."
Eric casually closed the book and put it away, while also packing the documents from the cabinet into a box, along with the precious metals, coins, and gold owl statues inside.
"Eric, are you planning to take all these things?"
Clark hesitantly asked as he watched Eric ransack the secret room.
"Should I leave them here for someone else to take?"
"Uh…"
Clark was at a loss for words, his expression turning somewhat awkward.
He thought of the green bills Eric had hidden under his bed. Were those also obtained in this manner?
Unsure if he should persuade Eric, he felt that even though these were ill-gotten gains, Eric's actions didn't seem right.
In his hesitation and uncertainty, Eric packed all the valuable items from the secret room into the metal box.
"Are you staying here to pray for the Owls, or are you leaving, Clark?"
Eric took a few steps forward with the metal box, turning his head to ask Clark.
Clark hesitated for a moment, glanced at the bodies lying in the distance, and quickly caught up with Eric.
That night, at the Luthor Mansion.
Fire trucks and police cars were parked at the mansion entrance. Firefighters were putting out the remaining flames, checking damaged water pipes and electrical circuits.
Lex leaned against his luxury car, staring expressionlessly at his father, who had just arrived from Metropolis.
"You promised to protect my safety, and that includes using rockets to bomb my friends?"
Lex questioned his father.
"I was merely concerned for your safety, Lex."
Lionel replied calmly, adjusting his glasses.
"No, you don't care about anyone, whether it's me or anyone else."
Lex's tone grew heavier, "Even if I died today, your world would still turn as usual. I even suspect that you ordered those mercenaries to prioritize capturing the enemy, even at the cost of my life. Otherwise, how do you explain them firing into the hall while Clark was still inside?"
"Even if it meant destroying my mansion and hurting my friends!"
Lex glanced at the ruined mansion, his tone filled with accusation.
He still didn't know that Clark had escaped and assumed he was buried in the rubble along with the "Owls."
"Anger won't solve anything, Lex."
Lionel's tone remained calm, almost indifferent.
"Oh, really?"
Lex sneered, "I also know one thing: unvented anger only breeds deeper anger."
"Like this!"
Lex took out an owl mask and threw it in front of him, "What is this? A mask worn by those assassins. You told me there was no Owl Court in Metropolis, and even swore it. Now what? Don't tell me this is just a prank by some jester who likes owl masks! You've been lying to me all along!"
Faced with Lex's accusations, Lionel remained silent for a few seconds, "Lex, I was trying to protect you, to keep you away from those untouchable entities."
"I can control my own life and know how to lead it, without needing someone to tell me how to do it. Do you know what the first thing I learned in the Luthor family was? How to face unbeatable enemies. Never let anyone tell you 'you can't'!"
Lex suppressed his anger, speaking in a detached and mocking tone.
Lionel's expression didn't change, "Lex, sometimes you succeed, thinking you've touched the truth and defeated your enemies. But… that's just what your enemies want you to see. Some things can't be judged by appearances."
"Uh-huh."
Lex nodded, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "I know what you want to say, Churchill's quote: 'Out of intense complexities, intense simplicities emerge.' Your complex reasoning has a simple purpose: to do what's best for me. Trust me, Father, this is rhetorical fraud, and I'm not perpetually gullible."
After speaking to his father, Lex turned and left.
Lionel watched Lex's retreating figure with a complex expression. After Lex disappeared from view, he ordered his men to drive away.
Meanwhile, at Kent Farm, far from the Luthor Mansion, Eric and Clark finally returned home.
In the dark night, the farm was quiet.
Dragging his exhausted and battered body, Clark pushed open the door.
He collapsed onto the sofa, leaning back.
After a night of events, he needed to calm down, both physically and mentally.
Eric left the metal box outside and pushed open the door to change his clothes.
But as he opened the door, he froze.
Jonathan and Martha stood solemnly at the stairs leading to the second floor, watching the two "ragged" figures.
"Clark, Eric, I think... we need to have a talk."
Jonathan walked down the stairs and stood before Clark, who was lying on the sofa.
"Dad, weren't you in Metropolis?" Clark sat up in surprise.
"With everything that happened at the Luthor Mansion, Martha and I couldn't stay there."
Jonathan looked at the metal box behind Eric, "Eric, what is that behind you?"
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