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NOTICE: I renamed the story name to 'DC: Starting with Homelander as my Child!'
...
"Dad, I'm scared."
"Scared of what, John?"
"I'm scared of going back to that room I've never seen before. I hate it there."
Azu took a deep breath, saying, "Everything's white, as if I'm trapped, unable to make a sound no matter how much I want to. Dad, is that what you meant by the Catholic hell?"
Peter paused for a moment, then shook his head. "No, that's not hell. Hell is much farther away than that."
He gently stroked Azu's hair, his expression thoughtful.
Though Azu had arrived on a spaceship as a child, he seemed to remember fragmented memories from before his arrival. In his original universe, Azu had been born in a lab, subjected to experiments and constant brainwashing.
Now, having been delivered to Peter by a meteor shower, his tragic past was altered, giving him a different fate. But if Azu exists here in this universe, could there still be another Azu back in his original world? Or is it merely a lingering memory from his birth?
Crackle!
As Peter fell deeper into thought, thunder rumbled in the sky. Noticing the rain picking up, Peter stood and said to Azu, "It's late, John. Let's get back inside and go to bed."
"Alright," Azu replied obediently, following Peter off the roof of the barn.
The Next Morning
Peter had called in a construction crew, and with the help of Martha and Jonathan, began repairing the farmhouse. The two mischief-makers, who'd caused the trouble, helped out as best they could.
With last night's storm as a cover, Peter could blame the destruction on "severe weather."
By the fence, Clark discreetly glanced around to make sure no one was watching. He pressed a nail into a wooden post with his finger.
"You shouldn't reveal your powers, Clark," Azu said from behind him, his voice low.
Clark rubbed his nose sheepishly. "Sorry, I forgot."
After a scuffle the previous night, they'd quickly made up. Clark still felt a bit embarrassed around Azu, though.
"I'm sorry for what I said yesterday, John," Clark apologized, setting up a wooden post. The night before, Martha had scolded him for saying "Martha is mother, Peter is father."
Apologetic, Clark said, "I shouldn't have thrown you down the stairs, John."
"And I shouldn't have head-butted you, Clark."
"I shouldn't have thrown you onto the second-floor floor, John."
"Well, I shouldn't have tossed you into the barn, Clark. And then punched a hole in the wall."
Their voices grew louder as they talked.
Flushing red, Azu declared, "I'm stronger. I am the God of Death, the Lord of Hell, the King of the Abyss!"
Clark, refusing to back down, said, "I am Shiva, the Destroyer of Worlds!"
"John? Clark?"
Hearing their argument start up again, Peter called over, casting a warning look. The God of Death and the King of the Abyss, Azul, and Clark, the Destroyer of Worlds, immediately quieted down and continued their work.
Meanwhile
Lionel Luthor entered the home of Old Horace, following Officer Lane. Recent murders in town had led the police to a robbery forty years ago involving three suspects, two of whom were now dead. The surviving suspect, Old Horace, was now their prime suspect.
Lionel, a victim of that old robbery, had come as soon as he'd heard. After searching the house, the police found a demonic mask as evidence of the crime.
Lionel, observing his surroundings, commented to Lane, "A young man? Doesn't seem to match your description of the suspect."
Lane, who had no love for the Metropolis businessman, replied, "We know he had extraordinary strength during the robbery. He must have mutated somehow. Mr. Luthor, your chemical plant has been dumping who knows what into Smallville River. Perhaps that's connected."
Annoyed, Lionel replied, "My plant has been shut down. We've never dumped anything in the river."
Lane replied curtly, "Just a theory. Anyway, now that it's shut down, it hardly matters."
Excusing himself, Lane said, "Sorry, but I have to go—the suspect seems to have vanished. We're organizing a search."
Unbeknownst to Lane, Peter had already taken care of Old Horace, who was now thoroughly disposed of.
After hearing that Peter's farm had been damaged, Lionel decided to visit.
Ten Minutes Later, at the Farm
Peter was cleaning up the mess in the living room when he heard an engine outside. Lionel Luthor had arrived, surveying the damaged farm, which looked like it had been hit by a storm. Although it had rained briefly the night before, there had been no storm.
"Mr. Luthor?"
Hearing Peter's voice, Lionel straightened up, greeting him warmly.
"I hope I'm not intruding, Mr. Podrick," Lionel said, offering a handshake. "I heard your farm was hit by last night's rain. I came by to see if I could help—I recently set up an agricultural fund to support the farms in Smallville."
Peter, though unaware of the fund's specifics, knew Luthor well enough to be wary.
"No, thank you, Mr. Luthor," he replied politely. "I don't need assistance at the moment."