DC Genesis: Superman Parts 1-5

Jor El slammed his doors open and swiftly paced
forward to his wife, Lara Lor Van. Each step was a painful memory and
realization. The science council had refused to back him with the equipment for
interstellar space travel, despite his words of Krypton’s doom. He knew that
everything he had worked for in his life would be in vain…almost everything….he
only had one thing left he could be proud of…

“Hurry, Lara,” Jor El whispered, careful not to wake
his baby son, Kal El, “there isn’t much time.”

Slowly, Lara rocked her son to sleep, gently
cradling her in her arms. She had the touch only a mother could give. She
placed him inside the rocket Jor El had built for his son, and carefully
wrapped him in his blankets. Jor El pressed a button, closing the hatch. He
fought back tears as he fired the rocket’s engines. A great wind stirred, and
the two lovers held each other in their arms for a final time.

“My love,” Lara said, as wind whipped around them as
the rocket flew into the distance. “I am scared.”

“Don’t be,” Jor El whispered, lovingly, gently
stroking her soft cheeks while staring into her soft and welcoming eyes. “We
will die…but our son will carry on Krypton’s legacy. The two lovers looked into
each other’s souls, embracing each other like first met lovers. “I love you, my
wife…I love you Lara.” Their lips met and tears streamed down both their cheeks
as the planet began to rumble, and all at once, the two were no more.

Martha had just finished baking a pie. The bell rang
summoning her from her kitchen table. She opened the oven and the sweet aroma
of blueberry filled the room. Jonathan Kent looked up from his crossword puzzle
for a moment to get a glimpse of the pie. His mouth watered at the sight of it,
and he licked his lips. Martha knew what he wanted by the look on his face.

“You can wait until it’s cool down!” She scolded.

Jonathan let out a long sight, and then went back to
his crossword.

The house then began to rumble, the Earth shook and
nearby plates and pans slid across the countertops and onto the floor.
Jonathan’s crossword flew off of the table, and everything that wasn’t bolted
down began to vibrate. The couple looked out the window to see an immense light
come streaking down from the sky and crashing into a field nearby. All at once,
the shaking stopped.

Within minutes, the couple was outside, Jonathan
leading the way, shotgun in hand. As they came closer to the impact sight, they
noticed a small rocket come into their field of view, a thin layer of dust
surrounded it, giving it a mysterious look.

“A rocket…?” Martha marveled.

Jonathan aimed his shotgun at the rocket as a
compressing sound was heard, and a hatch slowly opened. Jonathan’s jaw dropped
as he lowered his gun, and stared wide eyed at the sight.

“It’s a baby…” Martha said, quickly climbing down
the crater.

“What kind of fool puts a baby inside a rocket?”
Jonathan scratched his head, curious as to what new alien hoax it was now.

Martha kept him bundled in the blankets, as she
picked the boy out of the rocket and carefully took him out of the crater. She
poked him playfully as the baby laughed with joy for the first time in a long
time. He waved his hands, trying in vain to catch her finger that she kept
pulling away at the last second.

“He’s kind of cute…” Martha observed, not bothering
to look up from playing with the baby.

Jonathan leaned in to get a closer look at the boy.
“Martha,” he said, his thick southern accent escaping from his words, “I know
what you are thinking and we are NOT keeping that baby.”

The playing suddenly stopped, and Martha looked her
husband straight in the eyes, “Jonathan,” she mildly scolded (and half begged),
“he’s got nowhere to go!”

“Yeah, but—.”

“What would you have us do, send him to an orphanage
telling them we found him in a rocket? We’ve tried every conceivable method and
WE can’t have a baby…he’s got no parents…” her voice trailed off.

“He IS kind of cute,” Jonathan admitted.

All at once, the baby grabbed Jonathan’s shotgun and
crushed it in his land as if it were a tin can.

The couple looked at each other, aghast. “What in
the world have you gotten us into?” Jonathan said.

From
the Journal of Jonathan Kent

Entry
#1:

A couple of days ago, me and Martha found a child
inside a rocket! I couldn’t believe it! I told the hospital we gave birth to
him on our own but we needed the papers. They obliged, albeit with some
persuading…

But that wasn’t the unusual part; the unusual part
was that this BABY was able to crush my shotgun like it was tin foil! I decided
to keep a journal so I wouldn’t go forgetting these things when I’m an old man,
so now all that’s left is to wait and see…

Entry
#2:

It’s been a few years since I wrote in this, (I had
almost forgotten I made this) but as soon as Clark’s new powers emerged (We
named the boy Clark after Martha’s maiden name.) I came home from work today to
find Clark on the rooftop! I was panicked since he had never displayed his
powers in a while, so naturally when I asked him how in blazes he got up there
I was shocked when he replied that he flew! He even demonstrated, zipping
around the sky like a bird (actually it was more like a plane). He told me
later today that he’s had several powers for a while, but wanted to keep them a
secret. Naturally, I asked him what powers he had. He told me he could shoot
flames from his eyes (Called it “heat vision”) he could see through walls,
except he told me those powers went on and off for some reason, and he could
see beyond the farthest horizon. He told me his strength increased with age to
the point where he couldn’t be hurt! I asked him why he wanted to keep it a
secret and he told me he didn’t like being different. I took him and looked him
in the eyes and said “Boy, we may think we’re not, but everyone on this planet
is different from each other. To heck with being made fun of, embrace your
difference! Show the world how different you are! It’s a part of you, Clark,
and it’s a part of you that you should embrace.” I’m beginning to believe we’ve
adopted the most powerful being on the planet!

Entry
#3:

It’s been a few years again, but more of Clark’s
powers are finally emerging. I was beginning to think Clark’s powers had
stopped altogether, but when we were working on the field (his powers are a
great help for the harvest!) we saw the train coming. He told me that he wanted
to show me a new power he found, and to my surprise, he outraced the train to
its destination, memorized what everything looked like, and came back and
described it all in a matter of seconds! Martha joked he was faster than a
speeding bullet! You ask me that sounds kind of corny…

Entry
#4:

Clark’s eighteen now, and he’s spent a lot of time
with his friends Pete Ross and Lana Lang…he told me a few weeks ago that his
powers have stopped emerging. I asked him how and he told me he just…knew…it
was a feeling. I don’t know why, but growing up with him, I’ve learned to trust
this boy through thick and thin. He CAN’T tell a lie. So after a few weeks of
pondering I’ve finally decided to tell him where he comes from. It’s time I
showed him that crystal we found in his rocket….

Jonathan Kent motioned for Clark to come to the barn
with him.

“Come on, Clark,” he said, trying to persuade him.
Clark made a break for the door.

“But I promised Lana and Pete I’d meet them at—.”

“It’s about your powers.” Jonathan said, sternly.
Clark looked at him, with something close to terror in his eyes. There was a
long moment of tension in the air, while neither responded. All at once, Jonathan
broke into a smile, exposing his teeth while he laughed. The tension was
swiftly lifted, as Clark joins in on the laughter. Neither knew why they were
laughing, they were just happy to be in each other’s company.

“Come on,” Jonathan said between laughter, “I’ll
show you.”

The barn doors sprang open, letting in a monstrous
mound of light all at once. The darkness was overcome with brightness. The barn
was old and weary, with paint peeling on the walls and tiny cracks of wood that
beamed light in through their cracks. Mounds of straw littered the ground,
while chickens walked about, taking small pecks at the ground. In the end,
there rested a small crate. Clark remembered back to his childhood, when he was
always told to stay away from the crate. He looked at it, his eyes twinkling
with wonder as he knew the answer to all his questions lay in the crate.

Moving faster than a locomotive, he ran to the other
side of the barn and lifted the top off of the crate. Jonathan ran after him,
trying to catch up. He put his hands on his knees and hyperventilated. Jonathan
quickly put his hands on his wrist, checking his pulse.

Inside the crate lay a small rocket. Clark looked at
every angle with super speed, scanning every inch of it.

“We found you eighteen years ago today…you down from
the sky in a rocket…Martha thought you were a gift from God…we couldn’t have a
baby ourselves…so…” Jonathan’s voice drifted off, as he took a seat on a nearby
milk crate. “The problem is,” Jonathan said, half groaning, “That we couldn’t
figure out how to reopen it once the hatch closed.”

Clark ran his fingers along the edge, feeling the
bumps in the strange markings. They seemed to speak to him…almost…telling him
what to say. The markings, almost familiar to him, like some lost language of a
dead world.

Clark made a sound of a man trying to imitate a
hummingbird’s song, and the hatch swung open all at once. A bright light filled
the room. Jonathan shielded his eyes while Clark looked directly at it;
chickens behind him ran for their lives. Clark found himself flung through the
air.

“What did you do, Clark?” Jonathan asked, his eyes
slowly adjusting to the light as it began to dim.

“I-I,” Clark stammered, “I just said ‘open.’”

Inside a large, silk soft blue and red sheet of
blankets lay a crystal. Clark reached for it, and a tingling sensation was felt
in the back of his head, which soon turned to itching, which soon turned to
burning. The light from the crystal enveloped him, and he smiled, embracing the
light. He threw his arms out with joy, floating slightly above the ground.

“What is it, Clark?” Jonathan asked, apprehensively.

“Jor El and Lara Lor Van…” He whispered, as if in a
trance.

“What?”

“My Parents…” Clark turned his attention to
Jonathan, hugging him with joy. “Thanks for showing me this, Pa.”

“It’s alright,” Jonathan replied, patting him softly
on the back.

“I know my planet’s history, my birth name was Kal
El, I—.”

“Clark,” Jonathan whispered, inspiringly, “fly.”
Jonathan began to grin as Clark flew into the air, flying through the barn. He
never felt as alive as he did then, as the wind whipped through his face, the
sun beat down on him, warming him, but not to the point of sweating. He felt
wonderful...

That feeling was suddenly taken away when he lost
trace of his Father’s heartbeat.”

“No,” he whispered.

“PAAAAAAAA!” He shouted, breaking the sound barrier
as he flew back the barn. A small crater was left in his wake as he found
Jonathan Kent on the ground.

“Pa…please be okay.”

“It’s okay, Clark…my time has come…I’m just glad…to
spend…my final moments…with you…”

“Please, Pa, DON’T
GO!” He shouted. “DON’T GO! I CAN
SAVE YOU PA!”

Martha rushed into the barn and covered her mouth at
the sight. She broke down into tears with her son.

“I CAN SAVE
YOU, PA!” Clark shouted. “I CAN SAVE
YOU! I CAN DO ANYTHING! WITH ALL THESE POWERS I CAN SAVE EVERYONE….!” His
eyes turned red with heat vision, as his tears were evaporated. “I can save
everyone! I’ll save everyone! I CAN SAVE
YOU, PA!

Can’t
I?”

Clark was aroused from his deep slumber by a glowing
green crystal. It had been a few years since Jonathan Kent’s death, and still

The smell of fresh paper filled the offices of The Daily Planet, as fax machines buzzed and printers heaved out the latest news. Receptionists picked up telephone calls from employees and customers. The good reporters kept an eye on a television screen to make sure the competition didn’t catch anything they didn’t. Employees typed away at their computers, and everyone was busy doing their own work.

All, that is, except for Lois Lane...she marched into her boss, Perry White’s office, and slammed the day’s paper down on the desk. “IS THIS THE THANKS I GET?!” she cried, throwing her hands up and the air then attaching them to her hips. “Page twelve?” Lois raised an eyebrow.

Perry White, the owner of the Daily Planet munched on a cigar, puffing out billows of smoke. His cigar had grown soggy from the time it had spent in his mouth. He caught it between two fingers and took it out. “Sorry, Lois, but someone else got the top story.” Perry spun around in his chair, facing the window.

Lois slammed her fist down onto the desk, flinging papers about. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” She cried. “The flying angel story?” by this point, Lois had gone completely berserk, nothing could stop her now. “A little girl reports a red and blue angel saved her when she fell out of a tree and THAT’S the top story?”

Perry wheeled his chair around, cautiously, and raised his hand up to stop Lois. “Look,” he said, careful to form his words correctly, “you’re one of my best—.” Lois gave him a look. “Strike that, THE best reporter I have…I’m not doubting you that your article was good, but a paper needs controversy to sell. Would you rather be out of a job?”

“Put, Perry, the story I found on Luthor—.”

“Could get the man who owns this paper in jail…now we all know Luthor is scum, I’ll grant you that.” Perry paused for a second to spit into his ashtray. “However, what you wrote had some evidence, but wasn’t strong enough to maintain front page news.”

“And a make believe story about a flying angel is?” By now it was clear to Perry that Lois had come prepared. She had a comeback for every argument he had.

Miles away and above the sky, Clark listened. The two conversed back and forth about whether he was real. Today would be his big moment. Today the world would know about Superman. He focused his hearing to find the perfect time to make his big debut. The wind blew gently on his face, relaxing him. He took the time to let it all soak in, and he breathed deep. He closed his eyes and took in each and every word on the conversation…finally, he flew forward! The wind whipped through his face and sprayed his hair back. His scarlet cape fluttered behind him. Onlookers pointed in the sky, unsure what the strange flying object was. Clark felt ridiculous at first, flying in the blankets he was rocketed to Earth in as a baby, but now the blankets felt like a second skin to him.

He swooped by the Daily Planet, slowly down slightly to make sure they caught a glimpse of him. He stopped in midair and began spiraling upwards into the sky. By now everyone had dropped what they were doing to get a look at the strange flying man. The sun shrouded his appearance, and reporters covered their eyes to block it. Perry’s cigar dropped from his mouth, and he gaped in awe.

“He’s real…” Perry whispered, in shock with wonder.

Lois dropped her pen, and looked up. She could almost see the flying man smile down at her. She blushed a bit at the thought of it, yet quickly dismissed the thought. When all was said and done, the figure rocketed past them, flying onward and out of sight.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!” Perry barked, “BACK TA WORK!” at the sound of Perry’s voice everyone scrambled back to wait they were doing. Lois hesitated at the door. This time Perry raised an eyebrow. “Told you.” he smiled.

Lois took one step forward only to be shoved aside by none other than Jimmy Olsen. Only eighteen, Jimmy had yet to prove himself as a photographer. His red hair was spiked with gel and freckled dotted his face. He huffed and puffed as if he had just run a mile. With the last of his breath, he dropped photographs onto Perry’s desk. “I…took them…as soon…as I could…” he huffed.

Perry poured over the pictures. “Looks like a bird.” Perry muttered, turning the picture back and forth. “Olsen!” Perry barked, “do you want our readers thinking you photographed a plane.

“But you just said bird,” Jimmy whimpered, backing away.

Lois snatched the pictures out of Perry’s hand, examining them. “What’s the ‘S’ on his chest stand for?” Lois wondered…he needs a name…” Lois’ voice trailed off, repeating ‘S’ over and over. At last she had it.

“Superman.” she breathed, “he’s Superman….”he thought of him every day. Half asleep, he had forgotten who he was for a
second, and the crystal soon reminded him. The crystal had served as a reminder
to his Father’s death always. He had decided to keep it close, just in case.
Today, however, was different. The crystal glowed an ominous green color, and
Clark rose from bed and touched it. Within minutes strange marking flowed onto
the crystal…he shielded his eyes from a immense flash of light, and suddenly,
all was silent. Not a bird chirping, not a cricket sounding, just him, and the
sound of his breath. He knew what he had to do.

B

The smell of fresh paper filled the offices of The Daily Planet, as fax machines buzzed and printers heaved out the latest news. Receptionists picked up telephone calls from employees and customers. The good reporters kept an eye on a television screen to make sure the competition didn’t catch anything they didn’t. Employees typed away at their computers, and everyone was busy doing their own work.

All, that is, except for Lois Lane...she marched into her boss, Perry White’s office, and slammed the day’s paper down on the desk. “IS THIS THE THANKS I GET?!” she cried, throwing her hands up and the air then attaching them to her hips. “Page twelve?” Lois raised an eyebrow.

Perry White, the owner of the Daily Planet munched on a cigar, puffing out billows of smoke. His cigar had grown soggy from the time it had spent in his mouth. He caught it between two fingers and took it out. “Sorry, Lois, but someone else got the top story.” Perry spun around in his chair, facing the window.

Lois slammed her fist down onto the desk, flinging papers about. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” She cried. “The flying angel story?” by this point, Lois had gone completely berserk, nothing could stop her now. “A little girl reports a red and blue angel saved her when she fell out of a tree and THAT’S the top story?”

Perry wheeled his chair around, cautiously, and raised his hand up to stop Lois. “Look,” he said, careful to form his words correctly, “you’re one of my best—.” Lois gave him a look. “Strike that, THE best reporter I have…I’m not doubting you that your article was good, but a paper needs controversy to sell. Would you rather be out of a job?”

“Put, Perry, the story I found on Luthor—.”

“Could get the man who owns this paper in jail…now we all know Luthor is scum, I’ll grant you that.” Perry paused for a second to spit into his ashtray. “However, what you wrote had some evidence, but wasn’t strong enough to maintain front page news.”

“And a make believe story about a flying angel is?” By now it was clear to Perry that Lois had come prepared. She had a comeback for every argument he had.

Miles away and above the sky, Clark listened. The two conversed back and forth about whether he was real. Today would be his big moment. Today the world would know about Superman. He focused his hearing to find the perfect time to make his big debut. The wind blew gently on his face, relaxing him. He took the time to let it all soak in, and he breathed deep. He closed his eyes and took in each and every word on the conversation…finally, he flew forward! The wind whipped through his face and sprayed his hair back. His scarlet cape fluttered behind him. Onlookers pointed in the sky, unsure what the strange flying object was. Clark felt ridiculous at first, flying in the blankets he was rocketed to Earth in as a baby, but now the blankets felt like a second skin to him.

He swooped by the Daily Planet, slowly down slightly to make sure they caught a glimpse of him. He stopped in midair and began spiraling upwards into the sky. By now everyone had dropped what they were doing to get a look at the strange flying man. The sun shrouded his appearance, and reporters covered their eyes to block it. Perry’s cigar dropped from his mouth, and he gaped in awe.

“He’s real…” Perry whispered, in shock with wonder.

Lois dropped her pen, and looked up. She could almost see the flying man smile down at her. She blushed a bit at the thought of it, yet quickly dismissed the thought. When all was said and done, the figure rocketed past them, flying onward and out of sight.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!” Perry barked, “BACK TA WORK!” at the sound of Perry’s voice everyone scrambled back to wait they were doing. Lois hesitated at the door. This time Perry raised an eyebrow. “Told you.” he smiled.

Lois took one step forward only to be shoved aside by none other than Jimmy Olsen. Only eighteen, Jimmy had yet to prove himself as a photographer. His red hair was spiked with gel and freckled dotted his face. He huffed and puffed as if he had just run a mile. With the last of his breath, he dropped photographs onto Perry’s desk. “I…took them…as soon…as I could…” he huffed.

Perry poured over the pictures. “Looks like a bird.” Perry muttered, turning the picture back and forth. “Olsen!” Perry barked, “do you want our readers thinking you photographed a plane.

“But you just said bird,” Jimmy whimpered, backing away.

Lois snatched the pictures out of Perry’s hand, examining them. “What’s the ‘S’ on his chest stand for?” Lois wondered…he needs a name…” Lois’ voice trailed off, repeating ‘S’ over and over. At last she had it.

“Superman.” she breathed, “he’s Superman….”y then the clock had struck six o’clock, summoning
Martha from her bedroom. Upon arrival to the kitchen she found Clark hastily
cramming a bowl of cereal down his throat, as if he were afraid to miss a bus
to school.

“What on Earth is the matter, Clark?!” Martha said,
quite aghast in a tone only a Mother could have.

“Ma,” Clark said, gulping down the last of his
cereal. “I have to go.”

Martha’s eyes swelled up at the words. “Clark,
honey, what are you talking about?”

Without a word, Clark extracted the crystal from
beneath the table, still glowing green. “It’s calling to me.” Clark told his
Mother, emotions absent from his voice. “I need to go.”

“Where?” cried Martha.

“I don’t know yet…I guess I’ll find out.”

Martha turned aside, biting her lip. “I knew this
day would come.” she said. “But I would’ve thought it would come sooner.” She
gave Clark a weak smile. “Please, Clark…there’s something I want you to take
with you.” she said.

Within a few hours, Clark had said his final
goodbyes to his surrogate Mother, and she had given him the blankets he was
found wrapped in. Clark flew off, carrying the crystal…it spoke to him…giving
him directions on where to go…Clark felt in a haze the whole time, not quite in
control of himself. Finally, he landed in a region covered in snow and ice. Any
normal human wouldn’t survive in these extreme temperatures, yet Clark was not
a human, and not normal for that matter. He could see his breath, but it didn’t
bother him. He walked across the ice caps of the region, and suddenly, he
stopped when the glacier melted into the ocean. He took one last look at the
crystal, and knew what to do.

He tossed the crystal into the ocean, and in no time
at all, a bubbling was seen, and the sound of cardboard tearing was heard as
the crystal grew larger, creating more and more crystal with each passing
second, until finally, a fortress was erected, magnificent in sight, and
gleaming like the sun. He flew into it to see what looked like a control panel
made of crystals…again, it spoke to him, and again, he knew what to do. He extracted
the middle crystal, and to his surprise, a hologram of a giant head appeared
before him. The man’s hair was grey, and his face was full of wrinkles. Time
had not been well to him. He had the look of a wise man, and upon his chest lay
an emblem similar to the one Clark found among the blankets in his rocket.

“I am Jor El.” the hologram stated, “You are my son,
Kal El…this program you have selected will tell you everything you need to know
about Krypton, your birth planet, and your powers and abilities on Earth…my
only regret is that I am not there to see you grow up.” The recording paused.
“Are you ready to begin?”

Clark stared at the hologram for what felt like
hours. All his life he had imagined what his Father might look like, and now he
finally knew. Wonder filled his eyes as tears of joy streamed down his cheeks.
“Yes.” he said at last.

The
Beginning….

The smell of fresh paper filled the offices of The Daily Planet, as fax machines buzzed and printers heaved out the latest news. Receptionists picked up telephone calls from employees and customers. The good reporters kept an eye on a television screen to make sure the competition didn’t catch anything they didn’t. Employees typed away at their computers, and everyone was busy doing their own work.

All, that is, except for Lois Lane...she marched into her boss, Perry White’s office, and slammed the day’s paper down on the desk. “IS THIS THE THANKS I GET?!” she cried, throwing her hands up and the air then attaching them to her hips. “Page twelve?” Lois raised an eyebrow.

Perry White, the owner of the Daily Planet munched on a cigar, puffing out billows of smoke. His cigar had grown soggy from the time it had spent in his mouth. He caught it between two fingers and took it out. “Sorry, Lois, but someone else got the top story.” Perry spun around in his chair, facing the window.

Lois slammed her fist down onto the desk, flinging papers about. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” She cried. “The flying angel story?” by this point, Lois had gone completely berserk, nothing could stop her now. “A little girl reports a red and blue angel saved her when she fell out of a tree and THAT’S the top story?”

Perry wheeled his chair around, cautiously, and raised his hand up to stop Lois. “Look,” he said, careful to form his words correctly, “you’re one of my best—.” Lois gave him a look. “Strike that, THE best reporter I have…I’m not doubting you that your article was good, but a paper needs controversy to sell. Would you rather be out of a job?”

“Put, Perry, the story I found on Luthor—.”

“Could get the man who owns this paper in jail…now we all know Luthor is scum, I’ll grant you that.” Perry paused for a second to spit into his ashtray. “However, what you wrote had some evidence, but wasn’t strong enough to maintain front page news.”

“And a make believe story about a flying angel is?” By now it was clear to Perry that Lois had come prepared. She had a comeback for every argument he had.

Miles away and above the sky, Clark listened. The two conversed back and forth about whether he was real. Today would be his big moment. Today the world would know about Superman. He focused his hearing to find the perfect time to make his big debut. The wind blew gently on his face, relaxing him. He took the time to let it all soak in, and he breathed deep. He closed his eyes and took in each and every word on the conversation…finally, he flew forward! The wind whipped through his face and sprayed his hair back. His scarlet cape fluttered behind him. Onlookers pointed in the sky, unsure what the strange flying object was. Clark felt ridiculous at first, flying in the blankets he was rocketed to Earth in as a baby, but now the blankets felt like a second skin to him.

He swooped by the Daily Planet, slowly down slightly to make sure they caught a glimpse of him. He stopped in midair and began spiraling upwards into the sky. By now everyone had dropped what they were doing to get a look at the strange flying man. The sun shrouded his appearance, and reporters covered their eyes to block it. Perry’s cigar dropped from his mouth, and he gaped in awe.

“He’s real…” Perry whispered, in shock with wonder.

Lois dropped her pen, and looked up. She could almost see the flying man smile down at her. She blushed a bit at the thought of it, yet quickly dismissed the thought. When all was said and done, the figure rocketed past them, flying onward and out of sight.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!” Perry barked, “BACK TA WORK!” at the sound of Perry’s voice everyone scrambled back to wait they were doing. Lois hesitated at the door. This time Perry raised an eyebrow. “Told you.” he smiled.

Lois took one step forward only to be shoved aside by none other than Jimmy Olsen. Only eighteen, Jimmy had yet to prove himself as a photographer. His red hair was spiked with gel and freckled dotted his face. He huffed and puffed as if he had just run a mile. With the last of his breath, he dropped photographs onto Perry’s desk. “I…took them…as soon…as I could…” he huffed.

Perry poured over the pictures. “Looks like a bird.” Perry muttered, turning the picture back and forth. “Olsen!” Perry barked, “do you want our readers thinking you photographed a plane.

“But you just said bird,” Jimmy whimpered, backing away.

Lois snatched the pictures out of Perry’s hand, examining them. “What’s the ‘S’ on his chest stand for?” Lois wondered…he needs a name…” Lois’ voice trailed off, repeating ‘S’ over and over. At last she had it.

“Superman.” she breathed, “he’s Superman….”