He removed his helmet, revealing a sweaty face.
His golden hair was plastered to his forehead and temples from the moisture, and his expression seemed rather sheepish. "Sorry, officer. I didn't mean to… I thought—well, I thought…"
He turned to glance in the direction where Red Hood had disappeared.
Most of the police force had already scattered to pursue him, but by now, Red Hood would likely have made it back to Gotham.
In the end, these officers would probably return empty-handed.
Feeling even guiltier, he offered, "I'll cooperate with your investigation right away!"
Soren reached for the arm that was still wrapped around his waist, trying to step out of Superman's embrace.
However, as soon as his palm touched the arm, he felt Superman's body tense up slightly.
…But Superman didn't stop him.
It felt almost like pushing through a subway turnstile as he gently moved Superman's arm aside and walked toward the officers.
The policemen, who had been caught in a dilemma, finally exhaled in relief.
One of them motioned for Soren to follow, and Soren obediently got into the police car, feeling a strange surge of excitement: Was he really going to the police station?
Could it be that they had uncovered his criminal history?
He had always suspected he was some sort of supervillain.
Clark followed, standing by the car window and looking down at Soren. "I'll go with you," he said softly.
Soren, cupping his hand over his mouth, asked him seriously, "Superman, if I really get arrested, could you bail me out? I can't let my parents find out about this."
"…That won't happen," Clark reassured him.
He lowered his gaze, fingers twitching as though he wanted to reach out and pat Soren on the head, but in the end, he did nothing.
The police car carrying Soren headed toward the Metropolis Police Department, while Superman ascended into the sky.
Beneath the night sky, he faced off with Homelander from a distance.
"Don't ever try to provoke me through him again," Clark warned Homelander, his words deliberate and cold. "If it happens again, I'll kill you."
A faint red glow flickered in his blue eyes.
Homelander's face darkened.
He curled his lips into a smile and raised his eyebrows. "I'm not sure I understand what you're talking about, Superman."
Clark flew past him, brushing by his shoulder.
As he passed, he whispered, "You will."
…
The scenarios Soren had imagined never came to pass—he had thought that, like in a Netflix drama, the police would run his information, match it to some criminal record left by a wanted fugitive, and one cold case after another would start unraveling from his past.
But none of that happened.
Since he wasn't the one driving recklessly (the real culprit had already fled back to Gotham), the officers merely followed protocol, taking his statement and conducting a thorough check of his bag—which had initially raised their suspicions.
Apart from a single Batarang, there was nothing particularly suspicious in his bag.
The Batarang was confiscated at first.
The officers examined it for a while before receiving a personal call from Gotham City Police Commissioner James Gordon.
When Gordon initially got the anonymous call from Batman, his heart had skipped a beat.
He assumed it was about another Arkham Asylum inmate escaping.
Little did he know that the call was asking him to help retrieve… a confiscated Batarang from the Metropolis Police Department.
He couldn't make sense of Batman's request, but he agreed nonetheless and contacted the Metropolis Police Department.
As a result, the Batarang was soon returned to Soren.
After completing all the formalities, the officers quickly ushered him out of the station—they didn't want him lingering any longer than necessary, especially since the city's greatest symbol, Superman, was sitting quietly on a bench just outside the entrance, patiently waiting.
Soren slung his bag over his shoulder and approached Superman.
This time, he took a good look at him. He noticed that not only had the background of the iconic 'S' on his chest turned black, but Superman's belt was now black as well.
The new suit seemed more solemn, giving the impression of a hero who had seen much and endured even more.
"Thanks for saving me, Superman. Twice, if we're counting last time too."
Soren offered a sincere thank you, his vivid blue eyes—so much like those of a Kryptonian—fixated on Superman's worn but dignified face.
For some reason, his heart began to race.
Superman gazed at him in silence.
Hearing the sudden quickening of Soren's heartbeat, his brows furrowed in concern. "Are you feeling unwell? Did they scare you?"
…Even though Superman had thoroughly scanned Soren the moment he caught him, he couldn't help worrying that he might've missed something.
He quickly activated his x-ray vision once again, scanning Soren's body from head to toe, several times over.
When he noticed the bruises starting to form on Soren's left calf, left knee, and left arm, Superman's breath caught in his throat.
—These kinds of mild soft tissue injuries don't show up immediately; they take time to surface on the skin.
Guilt and heartache overwhelmed him. Without hesitation, Superman scooped Soren up into his arms, his voice urgent. "You're hurt. Let me take you to get some medicine—Soren, be careful. Don't move. Does it hurt? It's my fault for not noticing earlier…"
"It's… it's nothing…" Soren stammered, utterly flustered as Superman cradled him in such a manner.
He didn't know where to look, his whole body stiffening, and the words "it's just minor injuries" remained stuck in his throat.
—But as Superman lifted him, a strange and inexplicable feeling washed over Soren.
He didn't resist the embrace at all.
It felt like he'd nestled in this strong, broad chest many times before.
Every cell in his body seemed to celebrate the warmth, releasing a sigh of contentment.
His face burned even hotter, his light body resting in Superman's arms like a tulip inadvertently crushed by a farmer's rough hands during harvest.