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In the deep of night, Smallville Elementary stands shrouded in mist by the river, under the glow of the moonlight.
Old Horace, who brought Clark to the nurse's office earlier that day, slowly makes his way to the riverbank. Deep within the water, a faint greenish glow emerges. After glancing around to ensure he's alone, Horace takes a deep breath and dives into the river with a splash.
As he gradually sinks, the water's surface grows calm. Moments later, he emerges, his head breaking through the water. His once wrinkled, aged face has transformed into that of a young man. The frail frame he had moments before is now replaced with one of youthful strength and taut muscles.
Climbing ashore, Horace retrieves a hidden backpack, taking out fresh clothes to change into. Now clad in modern attire, he transforms completely into a trendy young man. Savoring the feel of his rejuvenated body, he closes his eyes, clenching his fists to feel the raw power coursing through him, his body trembling slightly in exhilaration. Opening his eyes, he shakes off the water droplets from his hair, his gaze fixed in the distance as he utters a name: "Andy Hawkins."
Thud!
Andy Hawkins, a mechanic, shuts the car door with a pat and stretches his back, wincing. With age, his endurance has faded. He used to work three hours without feeling a thing, but now, even one hour of repair leaves him aching.
As he locks up the garage, he suddenly notices a figure standing in front of him. Startled, he stumbles back. In the dim moonlight, Andy sees a young Black man in a baseball cap staring at him.
"Oh my! You scared me, kid," Andy says, assuming the young man needs a car repair.
"I have a Dodge Coronet 500. Can you fix it, Mr. Hawkins?" Horace's voice is low as he steps forward.
"A Dodge Coronet 500? That old relic? Was it your grandfather's?" Andy chuckles in surprise. "Young folks today don't usually fancy those."
"I like antiques," Horace shrugs, moving closer. "Do you know what happened to that car?"
Before Andy can respond, Horace continues, "Forty years ago, four high school kids drove it to a bar. Maybe they'd had a little too much to drink. They got stupid and decided to rob a jewelry store."
At first, Andy listens with a smile, but soon, unease clouds his face.
"They ran into a patrol cop and, of course, got caught. To save their skins, three of them pinned the blame on a Black kid."
Andy's face turns pale with cold sweat.
"That high schooler was a star baseball player with a bright future, possibly even a shot at the major leagues. But that false charge destroyed his life."
"Who… who are you?" Andy stammers, looking horrified.
"One of the three kids was named Andy Hawkins, and the one they betrayed was Horace Mace."
Horace removes his baseball cap, revealing a face Andy can barely recognize—young, but unmistakably Horace's.
"No! Horace? It can't be!" Andy gasps, unable to comprehend how Horace could appear so young.
"Long time, no see, Andy. I'm Horace Mace." Horace relishes Andy's terror.
He leans against a car with a grin. "You might wonder why I'm here. It's simple. You destroyed my life. I left Smallville after prison, thinking I'd never get a chance for revenge. But one day, while walking along the river, I accidentally fell in."
"Ever heard of the legend of mermaids?" Horace crosses his arms. "They say if you eat a mermaid's flesh, it restores your youth. Well… maybe I accidentally took a bite down there. And here I am, young and strong, like something out of a fairy tale."
Andy starts apologizing frantically. "I… I didn't want to do it, Horace! It was their idea! I tried to stop them…"
"Shh!" Horace raises a finger. "I know you're a good person, Andy."
"But," Horace's tone shifts suddenly, "you're also weak!"
In an instant, Horace appears beside Andy, delivering a precise chop to his throat. Andy gasps, his face turning red, eyes bulging in pain. He loses his balance, clutching his neck, and collapses backward. He feels his legs being dragged, though not by his own will—Horace is pulling him.
As Andy's consciousness fades, a throbbing pain in his back echoes with every tug, his desperate attempts to scream muffled by his failing throat. Eventually, his vision blurs as he's dragged into darkness.
At the Podrick farm, Azu catches the baseball Peter throws toward him. The two enjoy a game of catch after dinner.
"Dad, what happened to Clark earlier?" Azu asks, looking puzzled.
"He's allergic to a certain green rock. So don't let him near any, okay, John?" Peter replies, covering for Clark.
"A green rock?" Azu pitches the ball gently back to Peter. "I'll make sure he stays away from it."
Azu puffs his chest proudly. "Oh, Dad, I almost forgot—Ms. McDonald says we're visiting the museum next week."
"Not interested in going?" Peter asks.
"No, I already went on my birthday," Azu shrugs, pausing the game. "Besides, I'd rather stay home and mow the lawn. Didn't you say the faster I finish, the higher my pay?"
Azu is already deeply invested in his 'allowance empire.'