NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 9: Building the Future
The morning light over Smallville was soft and golden, but the town wore its unease like a heavy coat. Every creak of the diner door, every step on the worn sidewalks seemed quieter than usual. The gossip at Nell's flower shop wasn't about wedding bouquets or seasonal arrangements but about the strange things happening after dark.
The town square had been patched up since the Harvest Festival disaster, but the repairs couldn't erase what people had seen. Broken booths and shattered lights were easy to replace; the memory of green energy tearing through the square wasn't. Smallville had always been a place where time moved slowly, where days were predictable. Now, that predictability was gone, replaced by tension humming just below the surface.
At school, the tension was palpable. Lockers slammed shut, conversations were clipped, and students moved through the hallways like they were walking on eggshells. Smallville High had become a place where whispers of "Did you hear about…" traveled faster than notes passed in class.
The smell of chalk and old books filled the air in Mrs. Fischer's biology classroom. The faint hum of the overhead fluorescent lights competed with the occasional scrape of chairs against the linoleum floor. The class felt stuffy, like the walls were closing in, but my attention was pulled to the front of the room as Mrs. Fischer handed out our latest assignment.
"You'll be working in pairs on this project," she said, her voice clipped. "Your topic: the human circulatory system. Partners are listed on the board."
I glanced up and felt my stomach drop when I saw my name next to Lana Lang's. She sat two rows ahead of me, her auburn hair catching the light streaming in from the windows. She turned slightly, offering me a polite smile, and I nodded, feeling my cheeks heat up.
As the bell rang, I caught up with her in the hallway. The sound of shoes clattering against the tiled floor filled the air as students rushed to their next classes.
"Looks like we're partners," I said, trying to sound casual.
"Yeah," she replied, her smile widening. "I guess we'll be spending some time together. Do you want to meet at the library after school?"
I nodded, grateful she had taken the initiative. My brain was too jumbled to form coherent plans.
The walk home from school was uneventful until I heard the faintest cry carried by the wind. At first, I thought it was my imagination, but then it came again—soft, desperate.
"Help... somebody, please..."
The sound tugged at me like a string tied to my chest. Dropping my bag on the side of the road, I sprinted toward the voice, my surroundings blurring into streaks of green and brown. The air grew cooler as I entered the woods near the old quarry, the scent of damp earth and pine filling my lungs.
When I reached the source, I saw him—a boy, no older than eight, dangling precariously from the edge of a crumbling ledge. Below him, jagged rocks jutted out like teeth, waiting for a misstep.
"Hold on!" I called, kneeling at the edge.
The boy's tear-streaked face turned to me, his small hands trembling. "I can't... I'm slipping!"
I lowered myself, stretching as far as I could. My muscles tensed as I caught his wrist, pulling him up with a steady, controlled motion. The ledge crumbled under my feet, but I shifted my weight just in time to keep us both safe.
Once he was back on solid ground, he collapsed against me, his sobs muffled against my chest. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice shaky.
The adrenaline coursing through me faded, replaced by a quiet relief. "You're safe now," I said, ruffling his hair gently.
Later that evening, the storm cellar beckoned me like a sanctuary. Its cool, damp air was a welcome contrast to the warm, heavy night outside. The Kryptonian ship sat in the center, its sleek lines glowing faintly with an otherworldly blue light. The patterns on its surface shifted, like liquid metal frozen mid-flow.
I placed my hand on the ship, and the familiar warmth spread through my palm as the holographic image of Jor-El appeared.
"Kal-El," he said, his voice resonant but calm. "You carry the weight of this world's struggles with you."
I nodded, my thoughts still racing from the day's events. "The serum worked, but it's not enough. There are too many people being affected, and I need a more permanent solution."
Jor-El tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. "The Codex within you contains the collective knowledge and genetic blueprint of Krypton. By merging it with Earth's resources, you can create a device capable of neutralizing the effects of the meteor radiation at their source."
My breath caught. "A device? Like a machine?"
"Yes," Jor-El said. "It will require precision and ingenuity. The design must amplify the unique properties of Kryptonite while countering its harmful effects. Start with what you have. The answers will reveal themselves as you continue."
The next day brought a sense of foreboding I couldn't shake. After school, I decided to walk home through the fields instead of taking the road. The golden stalks of corn stretched endlessly, their rustling voices carried by the breeze.
As I neared the edge of the fields, the sky darkened unnaturally, and a faint green haze appeared on the horizon. My heart sank. I quickened my pace, the haze growing brighter as I approached.
In the middle of the field stood a woman, her form illuminated by the pulsing green energy radiating from her skin. The veins beneath her flesh glowed like molten lava, and her wild eyes darted around as if she were searching for an escape from her own body.
"Stay back!" she screamed, her voice raw. "I can't... I can't stop it!"
The air around her shimmered with heat, the energy she was emitting scorching the ground beneath her feet. The once-vibrant corn wilted, blackened by the radiation.
Her attacks came without warning. A wave of green energy burst from her hands, surging toward me like a tidal wave. I dove to the side, the heat of the blast singing the air as it passed. The corn behind me erupted into flames, the crackling fire adding to the chaos.
"You don't have to do this!" I shouted, circling her. "Whatever's happening to you, we can fix it!"
She turned sharply, her movements erratic. "Fix it?" she spat. "You don't know what it feels like—to burn from the inside out!"
She lunged at me, her glowing hands outstretched. I ducked under her swing, delivering a quick punch to her side. The impact sent her stumbling, but it wasn't enough to stop her.
With a furious cry, she unleashed another wave of energy. This one hit me square in the chest, the force throwing me backward into the dirt. My ribs ached, but I pushed myself up, my mind racing.
I reached into my jacket and pulled out the vial of Kryptonite serum. The green liquid glinted in the firelight as I unscrewed the cap.
"This will stabilize you," I said, my voice firm. "You just have to trust me."
She hesitated, her glowing eyes flickering. But the energy inside her surged again, and she screamed, her power spiraling out of control. With no other choice, I moved quickly, dodging another blast and injecting the serum into her arm.
Her body convulsed as the glow in her veins began to fade. She collapsed to her knees, her breathing ragged but steady. The green energy around her dissipated, leaving behind a trembling woman who looked more scared than dangerous.
The fire in the field had spread quickly, the flames devouring the dry corn. I carried the woman to safety, leaving her with a group of townsfolk who had gathered nearby. As I turned back to the fire, I spotted Pete and Chloe running toward me, their faces pale with shock.
"Clark!" Pete called. "What the hell is happening out here?"
I hesitated, searching for the right words. "I don't know," I said finally. "But it's getting worse."
Chloe's eyes narrowed, her journalistic instincts kicking in. "Worse how? Do you know something we don't?"
I shook my head, avoiding her gaze. "Just a feeling."
That night, back in the storm cellar, I began sketching designs for the device Jor-El had described. The ship's glow illuminated the papers spread across the workbench, each one filled with intricate diagrams and equations.
The design was complex—a central core to harness Kryptonite's energy, a stabilizing field to neutralize its harmful effects, and an emitter to spread the cure. It was ambitious, but it was a start.
I worked late into the night, the stars outside serving as a silent reminder of where I had come from—and what I was fighting for.