"Mom, are you baking apple pie again? When will it be ready? I'm starting to get hungry," the tall farm boy asked cheerfully, leaning against the doorframe.
He swung his red backpack back and forth, barely using it as a makeshift mat to clean the floor by the kitchen door.
Martha, who was busy in the kitchen, turned around with a smile and waved a finger at him, "No, Clark, this apple pie isn't for you."
"What?" Clark was surprised.
He stood up straight and asked, "Why isn't it for me? Are we having guests over?"
Martha shook her head and patted his shoulder, "No, no guests, but we have new neighbors who just moved into the estate behind our farm. Today's their first day in town, and we should go say hello and show them some Smallville hospitality."
She held up a tray of freshly made tarts for him to see, "Once the apple pie is ready, will you come with me?"
Clark was a little disappointed but also curious.
He scratched his head and asked, "You mean the Luthor mansion behind the hill? They've got new people moving in? Where are they from?"
"I heard Mr. Luthor sold the place to them. So, It's not called the Luthor mansion anymore," Martha said as she carefully placed the tarts into a small woven picnic basket, "Some folks in town said our new neighbors are from New York. Their last name is Hargreaves."
"New York!" Clark was shocked.
New York seemed so far away.
For someone like Clark, who grew up in a small town, the city felt like something that only existed on TV and rarely connected to his everyday life.
He hardly ever met people from outside Smallville.
Although he sometimes used his superpowers to sneak out of town, but the farthest he'd gone was Metropolis—and even then, running that fast would ruined his sneakers.
He didn't want Martha constantly complaining about how fast he wore out his clothes.
He knew New York was a big city, just like Metropolis—busy, exciting, and full of stylish, sophisticated people, at least on TV.
Why would anyone from a big city like that move to Smallville?
With this question in mind, Clark and Martha headed over to the former Luthor Mansion, now called Hargreaves Manor, which was just over a small hill from the Kent farm.
When Clark was younger, this mansion had seemed as big as a castle.
Its Gothic architecture looked spooky and haunted, and since no one lived there, he always imagined it was home to vampires.
But now, the place had clearly been repaired.
The broken bricks and roof tiles had been replaced, and even the bushes at the front looked fresh and green, full of life.
Their new neighbors' hostess greeted them warmly.
She looked younger than Martha, with brown hair and blue eyes.
She was slim and wore a black velvet dress.
The basket of tarts and apple pie Martha brought seemed to make her really happy.
She smiled brightly, made them some tea, and even had a three-tier tray of pastries brought out by a servant.
She was eager to chat with Martha.
Clark, being tall and a bit awkward, sat stiffly next to his mom, listening to her explain everything about Smallville to the hostess.
He felt out of place, unsure what to do.
The two women were getting along great, as if they were old friends, leaving no room for him to jump in.
He was bored and started to zone out.
Just then, he heard a light, cheerful voice coming from the staircase.
"Do we have guests, Mom?"
Clark looked up toward the sound.
A boy with golden, curly hair stood at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing and looking right at him.
In that instant—
Clark quickly turned his head away, staring at some random spot in the air.
…What was that?
He frowned.
He could felt there was a strange, strong pressure he had sensed just a moment ago.
His muscles had tensed up, but there was nothing in the corner—just a tall grandfather clock, silently swinging its pendulum.
Clark stared at the corner, confused for a moment.
At the same time, Soren, who stood at the top of the stairs, felt his heart pounding so hard it seemed like it might burst out of his chest.
He swallowed his saliva and gripping the stair railing tightly, trying not to seem too nervous as he looked at Clark in the living room.
The little Kryptonian had grown so much!
He was nothing like the baby Soren remembered.
They were both teenagers now, but while Soren's growth had been slowed down by his modified genes from New Earth, Clark Kent had grown taller than most kids his age.
Clark was tall and strong, with the beginnings of muscles that hinted at the powerful figure he'd become as an adult.
His back had that perfect V-shape, his thick black hair curled slightly, and his jawline was sharp and defined.
Even the best Greek sculptors would have struggled to carve such a flawless, god-like profile.
Clark was still growing, a future legend in the making.
But to Soren, he was also the alien boy who had grown up in the cornfields of Kansas, the boy Soren hadn't seen in so long.
Excited by the reunion, Soren quickly made his way down the stairs.
Clark turned his head, finally giving Soren a good look.
Renee stood up, smiling, and walked toward Soren, "Sweetheart, there you are. Come meet our new neighbors. This is Mrs. Kent, and her son, Clark."
Soren raised his hand and gave a quick wave to Martha and Clark, his smile a little stiff.
"Hi, Clark," he said softly.
There was a strange light flickering in Soren's eyes.
He felt conflicted.
On one hand, he wanted to lift his head and really take a good look at the boy he had once spent so much time with.