Batman was silent for a moment.
"I tried."
"But we failed."
"We lost Oliver and J'onn because of it. Clark killed Green Arrow and Martian Manhunter."
"He killed them?" Soren suddenly stood up, lunging toward the screen, "Clark killed them? He killed his own comrades?"
"He killed even more," Batman said calmly, "The Avengers suffered more casualties than the Justice League, and across the world, resistance forces against his government... as well as every registered criminal in the world."
"I'll send you a document detailing most of what happened over the past three years. If you want to know, open it and read for yourself."
Soren stood stiffly, eyes wide, staring at the screen, frozen as if turned to stone.
Only warm tears fell, drop by drop, down his face.
"Clark..."
He whispered the name that burned his chest.
He couldn't believe a word of what Batman had said.
He couldn't believe that the person responsible for all of this could be Clark.
The Clark he had watched grow up, whose smile was brighter than the Kansas sun.
The Clark who, in order to take care of his classmates, wouldn't even participate in gym class, silently enduring bullying at school.
If Clark had truly done all of this...
—What kind of unbearable pain would have driven Clark to do this?
Clark knew that once his hands were stained with blood, he would forever suffer on the cross.
Every life taken by his hand would be a thorn binding him to that cross, piercing his flesh.
Soren felt as if he were suffering alongside Clark, bound to the same punishment.
The blood flowing from Clark became rusty nails, driving deep into his heart.
What could he do to bring Clark down from that cross and back to his side?
"The Regime's army is stationed worldwide. Anyone who joins them is given a special drug by Clark—a pill he developed that quickly enhances a person's strength. That's why his forces are so unstoppable," Batman continued.
"You want to get your hands on that drug, don't you, Bruce?" Soren asked.
"...Yes. Green Arrow died for that cause. But we didn't get it. I have to obtain it to develop an antidote, to revert the soldiers back to normal. Only then can the world return to what it once was."
Soren slumped into his chair, "Do you really think the world will ever go back to the way it was?"
Batman stared at him, silent for a long time.
After a while, a heavy, rumbling voice emerged from Batman's chest: "I will give everything for it."
Soren closed his eyes in pain.
"I want that too, Bruce. What do you need me to do?"
"Trust," Batman said, his gaze steady and unwavering, "I need you to earn his trust. I've delayed certain moves of the Regime, and he's beginning to grow suspicious of me. You need to take my place and gain his trust."
"How much time do we have left? Are you still in contact with Tony? How long can they hold out?" Soren asked.
Batman responded, "I can't tell you everything."
"Alright, I understand. I'll move as fast as I can," Soren said seriously.
Soren understood what Bruce meant.
In times like these, no one could be fully trusted.
The safest way to keep a secret was to ensure that no one knew all the details.
Batman's image faded from the screen.
Soren hugged his knees, staring blankly at the now blackened display, and opened the file that Batman had sent him.
It contained a collection of videos and documents, including clips from television broadcasts as well as footage captured by surveillance cameras.
He saw Clark snap the neck of a dictatorial military leader.
He saw Clark's red cape drenched in the dark, heavy blood of humans.
He saw the Regime's uniformed army, their synchronized steps echoing down the streets of Gotham.
He saw the Justice League rounding up criminals across the globe.
Hal Jordan, the Green Lantern who had sided with Clark, crafted an entire prison of iron cages, while Clark used his heat vision to lobotomize each of them one by one.
He saw a mountain of corpses and rivers of blood.
These horrifying videos caused Soren so much pain that he trembled uncontrollably, yet he stubbornly, obsessively, watched every single one.
It was as though he was compelled to press on an infected wound, even though it oozed with pus.
So many pairs of unseeing eyes.
Clark... is this the world you envisioned?
He watched all the material Batman had sent, then shut down the backup system.
Staring out into the vastness of space through the window, he remained dazed for a long time.
Clark had been gone for quite a while this time.
Running a country was difficult enough; managing an entire planet was near impossible.
In the past two days, Clark and Diana had crushed a small rebellion in South America.
Every citizen and organizer involved in the uprising had been imprisoned by the Regime.
When Clark returned, his white cape was stained with bright red blood—a shocking sight.
He quietly entered Soren's bedroom.
Seeing Soren asleep, he didn't wake him.
Instead, he went to the bathroom, took a shower, and changed into casual clothes before sitting by the bed.
Soren woke up to the sight of Clark's handsome, rugged profile, his nose high and well-defined.
But immediately following that came the overwhelming, thick scent of blood.
...Clark had been soaked in the stench of blood for far too long.
He couldn't even smell just how heavy the scent was on himself.
Clark was holding a copy of <
Upon hearing Soren wake up, he turned his head and gave him a slight smile, "You're awake? I brought you some books. You can read when you're by yourself."
Soren rubbed his eyes, his voice still soft from just waking up, "When did you get here..."
"Not long ago," Clark found Soren's groggy, freshly woken appearance incredibly endearing and couldn't resist pinching his cheek, "You didn't sleep very well. Your heart sped up several times. Did you have a nightmare?"