The sun shines equally on everyone... His Apollo would have a brilliant life, leaving an eternal hero's legend in the universe, a happy family, the bravest and most beautiful wife in the world, and even two outstanding children.
...This is a future he cannot give him.
He was merely a proton found in the cosmic gaps, not even belonging to this universe.
What could he promise?
He could promise nothing.
He could give nothing.
He could only leave.
Before things ventured into the unknown.
Soren did not answer Clark's question but looked around and said, "I need to go, Clark. I'm not staying here today."
His gaze wandered, clearly too timid to meet Clark's eyes.
Clark's attitude was resolute as he held Soren down, "It's so late. Where do you plan to go? And in your current state, it's not safe to be alone."
Soren stubbornly said, "Don't worry about me. I'm going back. The antidote will take effect after a night. If I go back and get some sleep, I'll be fine by tomorrow. It's not a problem at all."
Clark was almost laughing with frustration.
It was a smile that barely touched the corners of his mouth, with no warmth reaching his eyes.
"Fine, if you want to go back, I'll take you."
He rummaged through the small apartment and found a Star Wars action figure of Orson Krennic that Soren had left behind.
He removed the figure's clothes and put them on Soren.
The figure's clothes were much too big for Soren.
He was wrapped in a white robe, with his thin legs still exposed and iodine-stained ankles showing.
Clark cradled him in his palm and flew out the window.
Instead of heading to Soren's rented apartment as Soren had expected, Clark, in a fit of pique, flew towards New York.
By the time Soren realized what was happening, they were already soaring over Manhattan.
Clark hovered above the Hargreaves family's lakeside mansion and looked down at the shimmering lake, "Do you want to return here?"
Soren, anxious, beat on Clark's palm, shouting, "Not here, not here! Who told you to bring me here? I want to go back to where I live! What are you doing?"
Clark looked at him against the night sky, his red cape fluttering in the evening breeze, stirring the clouds behind him.
He took off again, flying through layers of mist, and carried Soren to the skies above Kansas.
He landed in Smallville, in front of the Hargreaves estate.
"Do you want to go back here?" he asked again.
Soren stared at him in shock, finally realizing, "Clark Kent, are you messing with me?"
—Clark knew full well that Soren would never want the Hargreaves couple to see him in this state.
Soren's cheeks flushed red with anger, his eyes wet with frustration.
For the first time experiencing such treatment from Clark, he was both upset and furious, his chest heaving with each breath.
"Did I ever say I wanted to go back to Kansas? Did I say I wanted to come here? You know perfectly well where I want to go!"
The more he spoke, the angrier he became.
In the end, unable to contain his frustration, he bit down hard on Clark's finger.
The bite, though tiny, couldn't harm Clark's steel-like body, but Clark felt as if his heart had been pierced.
In that instant, he became fully aware.
Clark suddenly didn't know what he was doing.
…Why was he treating Soren this way?
Guilt surged within him like a tidal wave.
Clark quickly released his grip, as if he had touched a lump of hot coal, "…I'm sorry."
Soren glared at him furiously, jumping down to the ground from his hand.
He was truly exasperated, having been inexplicably brought to Kansas by Clark, right to the doorstep of Charlie and Renee's house!
How was he supposed to explain himself if Charlie and Renee saw him like this?
He turned around and walked away, his soft, white feet stepping onto the cobblestone path, causing Clark to gasp, "…Soren!"
Clark hurriedly picked him up, gently wiping his bare feet with concern.
But Soren pushed against his fingers, fuming, "Can you stop moving me? Let me go. I'll walk back to Metropolis myself!"
Clark repeatedly said, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I got a bit flustered. Please don't be angry…"
Soren sneered, "Oh, how could I dare be angry? You're Superman, the leader of Justice League. You can toy with me like this whenever you want. What am I? How could I possibly be angry?"
Clark was devastated by his words.
He pulled Soren into his embrace, pressing him against his chest. "…It's not like that, Soren. How could I ever want to toy with you? Don't you know how much I love you?"
Soren suddenly froze.
His whole body went rigid.
Clark had actually said it…
He felt dizzy, his stomach clenching with a pang.
Why did you have to say it, Clark?
Why did you have to tear down the last wall between them?
Didn't you know that once these words were spoken, their relationship could only move forward or backward, but could never return to what it was before?
Their relationship was like a bow drawn to its limit; a slight tension on the string would send this unresolved emotion shooting to the farthest place.
Soren's breathing became rapid.
He couldn't speak for a moment, feeling as if his stomach was being tightly squeezed.
He wanted to escape from Clark's hold but was firmly embraced by him.
"Soren…"
"… It seems you are a bit confused," Soren said after a long pause, leaning against Clark's chest, "Is the Justice League work too overwhelming?"
Clark pressed his lips tightly together.
He moved Soren slightly away, cupping him in his hands, and gazed at Soren's face, which looked as pale as jade in the night.
"No— I know what I'm saying."
"I love you, Soren."
…He loved him, for a full ten years, since the moment they first met.