It was clearly his home in Manhattan—only now did he realize he had been dreaming.
He had dreamed that he was aboard the <
Soren laughed and rubbed his face in disbelief.
This had to be because he'd been watching reruns of the old <
He groggily rubbed his eyes, but the tapping sound that had pulled him from his dream—tap tap tap—still echoed in his ears.
Who was knocking on his window so early in the morning…?
His reaction was still sluggish.
He scratched his head and glanced toward the window.
A tall figure, dressed in a blue skintight suit and draped in a bright red cape, floated outside, smiling at him.
"Clark!"
Soren called out in surprise.
Overjoyed, he jumped out of bed, running barefoot to the window. He opened it and asked, "What are you doing at my house, Clark?"
The radiant sunlight draped softly over Clark, who was bathed in its glow.
Against the light, he gazed at Soren, the sun outlining his form in a golden aura, making him look like a divine being.
Clark flashed him a bright smile, lifting a paper bag in his hand and waving it, "I brought you some cream pudding."
"Cream pudding!" Soren cheered excitedly, leaning out of the window.
Clark quickly grabbed his arm, gently lifting him and placing him on the windowsill, "Be careful, Soren."
They sat side by side on the windowsill, eating pudding together.
The purple-flowered paulownia tree outside Soren's window was in full bloom, like a lavender mist that spread across the scene.
Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the blossoms, scattering golden flecks on them, dusting their heads and clothes with shimmering particles.
It was the most carefree moment, the flower-scented air kissing their cheeks.
Soren leaned happily against Clark's arms while finishing his glass jar of pudding.
As he bit down on the small spoon, he suddenly heard Renee's voice calling out from downstairs.
"Soren—! Time to get up! You're supposed to come with me to the Manhattan Charity Reading Circle's opening ceremony today—"
Soren was so startled that he bit down hard, snapping the little plastic spoon with a crack.
His baby-blue eyes darted around cleverly, and he shot Clark a mischievous look.
Leaning back, he called out loudly to Renee, "I can't go, Mom! Clark's here, and I'm taking him on a tour around New York!"
The sly little rascal then grinned at Clark, wrapping his arms around Clark's neck and whispering, "Let's make a run for it. I really don't want to go to that boring charity event with a bunch of adults."
Clark's Kryptonian blue eyes were full of amusement.
He leaned close to Soren's face, his voice low and magnetic, like the quiet flow of an underground river, "Want me to take you away?"
"Yes, yes! Let me just grab my shoes!" Soren said excitedly.
He hopped back into the room, skipping a few steps as he quickly pulled on a pair of sneakers and ran to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, then changed his clothes.
Sprinting back to the windowsill, he shouted, "Let's go, Clark!"
Clark laughed and caught him as Soren jumped into his arms.
As they soared into the sky, Soren looked down and shouted a fib to Renee, "I'm leaving through the back door, Mom! Won't be back till later!"
Clark flew with him over the towering buildings of Manhattan and asked, "So where are you taking your country bumpkin friend from Kansas, Soren?"
Soren burst out laughing, cupping Clark's face in his hands, "Aren't you supposed to be at the Watchtower today?"
"With Hal and the others—" Clark began to respond, but his expression suddenly tightened.
His gaze dropped, scanning the steel jungle beneath them.
He had heard something coming from the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
"Someone's robbing the museum and holding hostages," Clark said, frowning. "I need to check it out."
They arrived at the museum's exhibition hall in an instant, but someone had beaten them there.
Among the group of terrified students huddled in the corner, being held at gunpoint by the robbers, crouched none other than Billy, with his brown hair sticking out.
Even though a gun was pressed to his head by one of the robbers, Billy looked surprisingly unfazed.
His hands were behind his head as he tried to comfort the terrified classmates beside him. "Don't worry, we're going to be fine. If things get really bad—"
If things got really bad, he could just shout "Shazam." But that would immediately reveal his true identity, and he wanted to avoid that unless absolutely necessary.
After all, this was New York, the city with the most superheroes.
Billy believed that in just a few minutes, the heroes tasked with protecting the city would swoop in from the sky to save the day.
What he didn't expect was that the one who came would be Superman.
Billy's eyes widened in shock as he stared at Superman descending through the glass dome, followed closely by Angemon.
—Wait, what? What's going on here? How are these two aliens showing up together?
He'd never heard of Angemon and Superman knowing each other!
The arrival of Superman and Angemon terrified the robbers in black trench coats so much that they almost dropped their guns.
One of them, clearly the leader with a colorful scarf tied around his neck, swallowed nervously.
He raised his chin at Superman and said, "Don't move! Superman, take one more step, and I'll shoot this kid!"
Clark raised his hands, trying to calm the robber down, "I strongly advise against that. You know the consequences of firing here."
Meanwhile, Angemon had already spotted Billy behind Clark.
He glanced at Billy and made a hand gesture, asking if he was alright.
Billy frowned, thinking that Angemon was trying to communicate with him in sign language, his small face full of confusion—Did Angemon lose his mind or something?