12 The Prodigal Son

"Kal-El. I'm sub-commander Faora-Ul. On behalf of General Zod, I extend you his greetings."

Unsure of what to answer and still very bothered by the unblinking blue eyes of the Kryptonian woman in front of him, Clark just nodded in response; Faora didn't seem concerned by it.

Instead, she just moved her eyes to look behind him and, without even bothering to say anything, walked past him.

"The Avengers," she stated, with the same emotionless voice, watching the line they had made a few meters from the soldiers. "Word of your deeds has reached beyond this planet."

"That's us alright," said Stark, his helmet open to look at her. "Intergalactic heroes and all that."

"Stark," Steve said, before he could go off on a tangent, and turned to look at Faora. "On behalf of the people of Earth, we welcome you," he stared at her eyes. "As long as your intentions remain peaceful."

There was an almost imperceptible smile in Faora's lips. She didn't say anything to Steve, turning her eyes to look at Fury behind them.

"Are you the one in command here?" she asked, suddenly, her voice a little more forceful.

Fury, stepping forward until he was together with the Avengers, answered:

"I am."

"General Zod would like this woman," she declared, pointing at Natasha with all her authority "to accompany me."

There was a sudden silence on the desert, while everyone present processed what she had just said. Natasha raised a single eyebrow and stared back at the Kryptonian, but didn't say anything; the rest of the people, Avengers and soldiers, could only look in stunned silence, as if unsure of what to do.

Before Clark could even open his mouth to object, however, Clint stepped in front of her.

"You asked for Kal-El," he said, not even pretending to play nice. "You didn't say anything about one of our own."

Agreeing with Clint, the Avengers also stepped forward, not blocking Natasha from view, but making their stance very clear on this matter.

Faora, barely acknowledging them, held her stare.

"Should I tell the General you are unwilling to comply?" she asked.

"I don't care what you tell him," Clint answered, short and to the point.

For a moment there, Faora just looked at him, her piercing blue eyes fixed as if in a challenge. Nobody moved, nobody said anything, but it was clear as day that no one would just surrender Natasha to her; at least not without a fight.

Clark was tense, just waiting to see what Faora would do now that she was denied, ready to jump between them if she did any sudden moves; what he didn't expect, and apparently no one else did as well, was Natasha making the sudden move, stepping forward.

"It's okay," she said, when Clint and Steve moved too, ready to intercept her. "I'll go."

She looked at Clark's eyes for a split second, as if trying to convey some message; Clark didn't need more than that to understand it. She thought she could help him. He didn't know how or if this was even a good idea at all, but he felt very grateful nonetheless.

With one last look to Fury, as if confirming with him if that was really okay, and one last look to the very tense Avengers, to guarantee that they wouldn't try anything stupid, Natasha started to walk, following Faora and Clark to the ship. Clark almost expected Clint to follow them, feeling, even without turning to see, how against this idea he was; and the others, Tony, Steve and Bruce, wouldn't be much behind him if they considered, even for a second, that Natasha didn't want to be exactly where she was, SHIELD and the army be damned.

But they didn't follow, choosing to trust Natasha's decision and soon they were inside the ship; without delay, they took off, rising almost vertically to the sky.

Clark used the quiet time they had to look around. Despite the position of the ship and the high velocity they were going, Clark and Natasha felt as if they were in a normal room; no turbulence, no movement at all, it was like standing on the ground. The ship was barely illuminated, not really a problem to Kryptonians, but Natasha was probably finding everything awfully dark. Even so, there wasn't much to look at, the ship being simply a big container for transport.

Faora, after checking in on them one last time, went upstairs, disappearing from view; Clark took his chance. Taking his hidden command key, he placed it in Natasha's hand as carefully as he could, never saying one word so he couldn't be heard by the other Kryptonians and their enhanced senses. Natasha looked at him questionably, probably recognizing the object he showed her on his farm; he shook his head, giving all the answer she needed, so she hid it, right at the moment Faora came back holding something.

"The atmospheric composition in our ship is not compatible with humans," she explained to Natasha, approaching. "You will need to wear a breather beyond this point."

And, saying that, she placed a metal collar around Natasha's neck, that immediately extended into a transparent helmet to cover her head, just like the one Faora was using.

The flight didn't take long at all. After a few minutes, Clark could see Zod's ship, Black Zero, orbiting Earth. A gate opened so they could enter and metal arms came to hold the ship down; soon, they were out, following Faora to the ship's bridge.

The first thing Clark saw when they arrived in the ample space was a huge window, taken in its majority by the sight of Earth and the sun. Monitors of liquid geo surrounded the place, showing all kinds of information; 11 Kryptonians were in the room, most of them wearing only a black skinsuit, some with armors on top of it, all looking at them.

And of course, standing by the window and looking down at Earth, was General Zod himself; the man who murdered his father, the man who was threatening his home. He tried very hard to keep his expression blank.

When they arrived closer, he turned, and walked to them.

"Kal-El!" he greeted. "You have no idea how long we've been searching for you."

Zod was as tall as he was, with a muscled build covered by an intimidating black armor. He had short dark hair, a goatee and a big scar on the left side of his face. His most distinctive feature, however, was his eyes: calculating, intelligent, as if they were capable of looking at someone and see everything there was to see.

His vision blurred for a second, while he was looking at Zod.

"I take it you are Zod," he said, the words hard to articulate for some reason.

The sun glare hit his face and, instead of the usual comforting heat it always brought him, it made his eyes hurt; what the hell was happening to him?

"General Zod!" corrected Faora, for the first time displaying some emotion as she glared at him. "Our commander…"

Zod was quick to placate her.

"It's alright, Faora," he said, looking at her and then back at Clark, with a smile. "We can forgive Kal any lapses in decorum. He's a stranger to our ways. This should be cause for celebration, not conflict."

Not conflict, not conflict…

Clark barely understood anything he said, the world starting to spin around him, Zod's words ringing in his ears. He felt sick, or what he imagined someone sick would be feeling at least; drained from energy, body aches, difficulty to breathe… The sun glare hit his eyes again, the brightness feeling like a dagger in his head.

"I… feel… strange," he said, beginning to cough. Natasha approached him, her eyes passing fast, trying to find out what was wrong with him. "Weak…"

Suddenly, his legs couldn't support him anymore; he stepped back, trying to regain his balance, but it was useless. He fell on his knees and then on all fours, blood spilling from his mouth and nose on the ground.

"What is happening to him?" he heard Natasha ask as he tried to clean the blood from his face.

The blood wouldn't stop coming out.

"He is rejecting our ships atmospherics," Zod explained, his voice perfectly calm.

"Clark," he heard Natasha exclaim, as she kneeled by his side.

Everything was blurred and the sounds were barely recognizable anymore.

"You've spent a lifetime adapting to Earth's ecology but you never adapted to ours," Zod completed.

"Help him!" demanded Natasha.

"I can't. Whatever's happening to him has to run its course."

His whole body was shaking now, his breath hitched. His muscles failed him and he couldn't support himself anymore, his face hitting the ground as he fell. He could hear Natasha's voice far away as he began to drift to unconsciousness.

He awoke with the feeling of grass on his face.

"Hello Kal," he heard General Zod's voice calling. "Or do you prefer Clark? That's the name they gave you, isn't it?"

Clark got up fast, his body responding to him normally, and looked around; he wasn't in the Kryptonian ship anymore. He was at his farm, surrounded by the barn, corn fields, clothes drying, the setting sun on the horizon…

Or at least what looked like his farm.

He looked at Zod in front of him, clad with his black skinsuit and cape, the symbol of his House on his chest.

"Where are we?" he asked.

Zod smiled.

"Inside your mind, of course," Zod answered. He looked around. "We were an advanced people, Kal. Technology like this existed for a long time."

"For what purpose?" Clark asked, buying time as he tried to understand his situation.

"Sharing information and memories, training, learning… We used this to learn Earth's languages when we arrived."

"That's how you're speaking English?" Clark questioned.

Zod's smile widened.

"We are not speaking English. We are speaking Kryptonian."

Whatever Clark was going to say was stuck on his own throat; he was right. But how?

"A little gift for you, Kal," Zod explained. "You still have much to learn about your culture" He approached. "Let me show you something."

And with that, the farm around them began to spin fast, the shapes and colors blurring until nothing could be seen. Then, when it stopped, it wasn't Earth around them anymore: it was Krypton.

Clark could only look around, amazed, as his eyes saw his home planet for the first time in his life. He obviously knew Krypton was a different planet, with a different atmosphere and ecology, but even then he hadn't realized how alien everything would be. Silly of him, of course, but those were his first thoughts about Krypton, as he compared it to Earth.

The sky was deeply red, because of Krypton's sun, Rao, making everything look as if the planet was under a perpetual twilight; he could see two moons on it, a little one that seemed far away, and a closer, bigger one, that was apparently broken into pieces. There were mountains everywhere he looked, covering the horizon, countless towers built on them; the very geography of the planet seemed to be artificially built, making the environment bend to their will.

The city, with too many towers to see, was built on those artificially molded mountains. Cut and shaped as if they were the waves of a sea, these mountains were the base of the whole city, the buildings coming out directly from them, going as far as Clark's eyes could see. And that seemed to be just one level of the city, because under the stone waves, visible by the spaces between them, the city went on, all the way to the ground; which meant that the place they were right now was built so high that the clouds were closer than the earth.

"This was Kandor," said Zod, as Clark watched impressed. "Krypton's greatest city. And, by the end, our only city."

He turned to Zod.

"Why?" he asked. "One city for an entire planet?"

"To spare resources," Zod explained. "And since the size of the population was carefully maintained, there was no need for more cities. Don't let it fool you, Kandor was huge: it housed approximately 1.4 billion people."

1.4 billion people in one city… That took Clark's breath away.

"That is… Incredible," he admitted.

Zod smiled.

"Krypton was a jewel in a dark universe, Kal," he said. "The pinnacle of technological advancement, the cultural center out of all intelligent life, the home of a people so great that none could ever hope to measure up to us."

He turned to Clark, raising his hand to show Kandor in all its splendor to him.

"And then, it happened," he said. "The destruction of our planet."

Clark could see far in the horizon a gigantic wall of fire erupt from the earth, reaching all the way up to the sky. The entire planet shook, as the very ground cracked and quaked, everything being devoured by the explosion that annihilated Krypton. Kandor, its countless towers, its stone sea, its people… All swallowed in a red inferno.

Before they could think of moving, it reached them and fire was all Clark could see; and even if it didn't hurt him, he almost felt compelled to scream.

And then it ended. Krypton, the fire, all of that was no longer there. They were standing on the bridge of Zod's ship, Black Zero, right in front of the big window; and everything they could see were the pieces of his planet.

"I tried to prevent this," Zod whispered, after a moment, and Clark heard for the first time emotion in his voice. "I couldn't."

He looked at Clark.

"Krypton was led by a Council so set in its ways that they repeated their actions again and again to the last mistake and called it culture," Zod said, disgust barely concealed. "I warned them of what was coming. Your father warned them. Your mother warned them. We had all the necessary technology to save our race, to begin anew, to look to the stars like our ancestors did. They thought otherwise."

"Why?" Clark asked, his voice low too.

"Fear. Stupidity. Indecision. The Council, with their endless debates of what we should do, led our people to ruin."

"So you rebelled," Clark affirmed.

Zod's expression hardened.

"Yes. I led the Sword of Rao so we could try to save what we could. I did everything in my power to save our civilization and our world and in return for my efforts I and my fellow officers were sentenced to the Phantom Zone. Only to be freed by the destruction of the very thing we were arrested for trying to protect."

The General turned, showing Clark the cryocapsules unfreezing the eleven officers of the Sword of Rao, including a duplicate Zod, just so they could see the fragments of their home flying on empty space.

"We were adrift," Zod continued, as Clark watched his memory duplicate comfort a crying Faora, "destined to float amongst the ruins of our planet until we starved."

"How did you find your way to Earth?" Clark asked, wanting to know if his and his father's theory was correct.

"We managed to retrofit the Phantom Projector into our hyper drive. Your father made a similar modification to the craft that brought your here. And ironically, the instrument of our damnation became our salvation."

He gestured in air, the memories around them changing to show what Zod described, the modification of the Phantom Zone Projector. And then, Black Zero glowing blue for a moment, before disappearing into nothing and reappearing somewhere else.

"We sought out the old colonial outposts, looking for signs of life. "Zod continued, the memories changing to show a dark world, full of Kryptonian's skeletons and abandoned ships. "But all we found was death. Cut off from Krypton, these outposts withered and died long ago. So we salvaged what we could, armor, weapons, even a world engine."

Zod looked at Clark, his eyes unblinking as he stared at Clark.

"For 21 years we prepared, until we finally detected the energy signature of an Infinity Stone," he said, confirming Clark's doubts, "followed by a distress signal of one of our old ships. A distress signal that, soon after, was stopped, under the authority of a command key of the House of El."

General Zod walked to Clark, stopping close to him, the memories around them changing again until they were back at the Kent's farm, Clark wearing an old t-shit and Zod, very close to him, his dark skinsuit.

"Fate led us here, Kal. To you. And now it's within your power to save what remains from our race."

Natasha looked around, trying to understand what she was seeing. The dark inside of the ship wasn't there anymore, nor were the Kryptonians; she wasn't in the Black Zero, apparently. Instead, she was now in a very familiar, very dreaded place: a very recognizable ballet studio.

She could only watch as the young girls around her danced and danced, non-stop, the practiced movements completely synchronized to one another. For one moment, she felt her blood turn to ice, the memory of that room, of that dancing, taking the air of her lungs.

What was happening?

"Interesting memory," said an emotionless voice she recognized from behind her.

Natasha turned to see Faora in the back of the room, clad only in a black Kryptonian skinsuit, no helmet, no armor, no cape. Her blue eyes didn't even turn to Natasha, glued to the dancing ballerinas in the studio.

"Memory?" Natasha asked, wanting to know what was happening.

Faora turned to her.

"We are in your mind," the Kryptonian woman answered.

She didn't even ask how any of this was possible; it made no difference how, since it was already happening. Probably some kind of advanced alien tech, she supposed. No, how that was happening wasn't as important as why. And Natasha could think of only one reason for someone to look into another person's mind.

"How is Clark?" she asked, trying to gain time.

Faora, that had turned to watch the ballerinas again, looked at her, that blank face of hers conveying no emotion whatsoever.

"You care about Kal-El," she stated, after a few seconds. "Why?"

"It's called empathy," Natasha replied. "I would ask if you know what it is, but I don't think it's necessary."

Faora shrugged, not remotely bothered.

"I understand the concept, it just seems terribly inconvenient. Especially in your line of work."

She made a gesture and Natasha followed her hand to see the ballerinas stopping to dance and opening space in the studio; only two of them remained on the center and one of them was very familiar. Natasha could only watch as her younger self, still a teenager, began to fight the other equally young girl.

Faora walked to her side, but she didn't even look at her, her eyes glued to the graceful but deadly fight in front of her. Her younger self managed to toss the other girl on the floor and wrap her leg around her neck; she raised her head for a second, looking at the older, very elegant, very familiar woman conducting the training and received a nod in answer.

The sound of bones breaking echoed in the room.

"See?" Faora inquired. "Inconvenient."

Natasha tilted her head as if agreeing.

"A little. But I've always managed."

The piercing blue eyes turned to stare at her.

"But have you, really? I think not. Otherwise you wouldn't have betrayed your old employers out of guilt."

She held Faora's stare.

"I betrayed them because they were killing innocent people. Because they were bad people, interested only in self gain. Not because of guilt."

"If you say so," Faora answered. "I just wonder how long will it take until your betray your current employers using a similar excuse."

Natasha didn't like the insinuation one bit, but her face remained carefully calm.

"You mean like you betrayed Krypton and staged a coup?"

For the first time since she had met Faora, Natasha saw some emotion cross her face.

"You speak of things you don't understand. I never betrayed Krypton. My only purpose, the very reason I was created, was to protect it. General Zod and the rest of us were trying to save our civilization."

Natasha held her look without blinking for a few seconds; then she shrugged.

"If you say so."

She wondered for a second if Faora would hit her, such was the intensity of her eyes. But then, without saying anything, she turned and walked to the center of the studio, where the body of the young girl was still laying. Waving her hand, the studio and everything in it began to spin fast, losing itself in a blur of colors, until it finally stopped moving, in another place completely.

The Kent's Farm.

"If it were up to me," Faora began, "I would interrogate you the usual way. It's more fun. But, time is of the essence and you were the one who found him on Earth."

The Kryptonian looked at Natasha and she knew her game was up.

"Now, show me what you know about Kal-El."

"How is it within my power to save my race?" Clark asked, honestly surprised.

Zod got closer from him.

"On Krypton, the birth of every single person was carefully planned. Every child was conceived in a Genesis Chamber, designed to fulfill a predetermined role in our society," he explained. "The genetic template of every being yet to be born is encoded in the registry of citizens. Without it, it is impossible to conceive a child in a Genesis Chamber. Even the colonial outposts, out in space, needed the Codex's direction all the way from Krypton to work."

General Zod stopped very close to Clark.

"Your father stole the registry's codex and stored it in the capsule that brought you here."

Clark's eyes widened; why didn't his father tell him this? Was it actually possible to bring his race back?

"Why?" he managed to ask after a few seconds.

"So that Krypton can live again," Zod announced. "On Earth."

And he looked up. Following his gaze, Clark looked to the sky, seeing something big entering the atmosphere, burning bright as it came down with velocity. A few seconds later, the huge object landed on the corn field of his memories, making the ground shake, the sound thundering as the three metal legs hit the earth.

Clark looked back at Zod.

"If Krypton lives again… What happens to Earth?" he asked, deep down already knowing the answer.

Zod slowly turned to him.

"The foundation has to be built on something. Even your father recognized that."

As he said that, the huge machine, the world engine, started to emit a huge amount of smoke to the sky; and a shining blue beam came out of it, hitting the ground with tremendous force. Everything shook and a huge wall of dust lifted from the earth, wiping everything on its path. Clark raised his arms to cover his face, even knowing all of this was happening only on his mind, as the cloud of dust passed over him and destroyed his farm.

The clothes he was using, his humans clothes, were ripped form his body, replaced instantly by his blue Kryptonian skinsuit and red cape. It was like he was in the middle of a tornado.

"Where is the Codex, Kal?" Zod asked, completely unaffected by the destruction he had just witnessed.

Clark didn't answer immediately, looking around him, seeing the scene of complete destruction the world engine had brought.

"There has to be another way, Zod!" he exclaimed, almost begging. "We can coexist! Or you can find another planet!"

"You were lucky to survive and to thrive in this atmosphere, Kal," he answered, still looking at Clark. "Not all Kryptonians could do that. This world's sun is too strong; its energy makes us too powerful. Krypton's atmosphere can control that, it can limit the growth of our powers, make it bearable. Without it… How painful was your childhood?"

"I survived," Clark retorted.

"You did. But not all could do it or to do it with their minds intact. I can barely imagine the torture your senses must be to you."

"It can be learned! Or you can find another planet! You have a machine that can reshape environments!"

"But not out of nothing. Not every ball of rock out there can be reshaped into an inhabitable planet. Certainly not on the perfect conditions Earth offers."

Clark couldn't believe his ears. He knew Zod had killed his father, he knew he had staged a coup in Krypton and killed a lot of his own people. But to talk about killing an entire race with such calm? That was unthinkable.

"You are talking about killing billions of people!"

"I'm talking about saving our race!" Zod yelled, suddenly. "Can't you understand what that means? What is a bunch of humans when we have the possibility to build Krypton again?!" He got closer. "You are not human, Kal, and you are never going to be human no matter how you look like. You are Kryptonian! If their race didn't resemble our appearance so much, what do you think they would have done to you? If you were one of their feared 'little green aliens' they would have killed you the moment that ship landed."

Zod was almost touching Clark, his blue eyes almost mad.

"Those people you protect so much? Those primitives? Fifty, maybe a hundred years from now they will all be dead. And you will have lived but a small fraction of your life." He touched Clark's shoulders. "Is that what you want? To be the last of your kind, alone, in a planet filled with beings so fragile and that die so fast?"

No, Clark didn't want to be alone. He didn't want to be the last of his kind, to be the only Kryptonian left in the universe.

But he also would never allow Zod to kill the humans.

"I can't be a part of this," he finally said.

Zod's face twisted into contempt, almost disgust, at his answer. He let go of his shoulders and walked back.

"Then what can you be a part of?" Zod asked, looking at his feet.

Clark looked down to see not the ground, but a sea of human skulls; everywhere, piles upon piles of skulls covered the Earth. His legs began to sink in the skulls, as if he was stepping into quicksand.

"No! Stop! Zod, there has to be another way!"

Zod only watched as he sank in the skulls, disappearing into it, his arms up trying to reach for something.

"NOOO!

He awoke almost jumping up, his heart beating fast. He tried to get up, but his arms were cuffed by the metal table and he just couldn't break them. Kryptonian atmosphere, he realized, and the ship could somehow filter the sun's radiation, making it impossible for him to refill his energy.

Unable to get free, he looked to the side, seeing Zod looking at him.

"You father acquitted himself with honor, Kal," he said.

"No, you murdered him" Clark corrected, lying back at the table.

Zod raised a single eyebrow, probably surprised to see he knew that.

"I did," Zod agreed, and Clark could hear sadness in his voice. "And not a day goes by when it doesn't haunt me. "He leaned closer to Clark. "But if I had to do it again, I would. The same way I expected him to kill me if the wellbeing of Krypton was at stake. I have a duty to my people and I will not allow anyone to prevent me from carrying it out!"

And saying this, he turned around and left the room.

"What's happening, Hill?" asked Fury, back on the Helicarrier, seeing the monitors beginning to beep.

The atmosphere in the command center of the Helicarrier was frenetic.

"DSP is pinging two bogeys launching from the alien ship," Maria Hill answered; she gave a signal to the agent on the computer. "Put it up."

As she asked, the images from the screen appeared on the big monitors, showing a part of the globe and the Black Zero floating close to it, marked in red; two smaller ships were flying from it, going in the planet's direction.

Fury watched that with apprehension mixed with rage.

"Air speed?" he asked.

"Three hundred and eighty knots and entering Kansas airspace, they're not responding to our hails," answered Maria.

Fury sighed and pressed a button, his voice coming out the speakers on the entire Helicarrier.

"Avengers, assemble!"

Natasha woke up in a dark room, her head feeling like it had been scrambled after her little trip down the memory lane. As always, she didn't open her eyes or changed her breathing pattern, first trying to assess the situation without alerting possible enemies.

Not hearing anybody close by, she opened her eyes and carefully got up. Her head was still covered with that transparent helm, which meant the air wasn't breathable yet. She still was on the ship, then; not that she expected to awake out of it, but it was good to be certain. She looked around, trying to find something useful in that place, forcing her eyes to see in the dark environment; until the blue glow of some kind of mainframe called her attention.

A place that had the exact same form of Clark's pendant; as she approached the pendant, some kind of magnetic field pulled it and attached it on the entrance. She pushed the "S" shaped pendant the rest of the way, a sound coming out of the mainframe.

Nothing happened. No lights, no sounds, no alarm… Natasha sighed. Clark wouldn't have given her that thing if it weren't important, but she wasn't seeing anything new.

That is, until she turned, and there was a man standing behind her.

"You are wasting your efforts," said Jax-Ur, Zod's scientist, as Clark tried to pull himself from his restraints. "The strength you derive from your exposure to the Earth's sun has been neutralized aboard our ship. Here, in this environment, you are as weak as a human."

Saying this, he jammed a needle in Clark's arms, passing through his skinsuit as if it weren't there. Clark grunted in pain, this being the first time his skin had been pierced in all his life; the weird "blood pistol" began to drain out his blood.

A few very uncomfortable seconds later, when Clark discovered he really didn't like needles, Jax-Ur stopped, removing it from his arm. He turned around, eyes extremely focused on the blood he had drained from him.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Clark lightly tapped his finger on the table; the bracelet around his left arm, identical to the decoration all Kryptonian skinsuits seemed to possess, began to disintegrate little by little in the air, its metal particles forming some sort of advanced lock pick and beginning to meddle with his restraints.

"Exactly how strong are we without a yellow sun?" asked Clark, his voice high enough to cover the low sounds his lock picking was making. "Are we really just as strong as humans?"

Jax-Ur snorted, still looking at his blood with a maniac concentration, which, frankly, it was disturbing him.

"Our bones and muscles are extremely denser than theirs," he answered, still not looking at him, Clark checking the progress of his escape. "Even without being powered by a young sun, we are considerably stronger than them."

"How stronger?" Clark asked.

"Please be silent," Jax-Ur demanded, beginning to drain the blood he had collected into a machine. "You are disturbing my focus."

Well, that was rude.

"Can I just say one more thing?" he requested.

Jax-Ur sighed and turned to him.

"What?"

"Kelex" he gave the order and closed his eyes.

Suddenly, hidden from behind his table, Kelex floated to Jax-Ur eye level; and before he could do anything, he emitted a powerful flash, blinding the scientist.

Clark took his chance and pulled as strong as he could, ripping the damaged restraint, while Kelex cut off the other one, having no need to be silent now and, because of that, working fast. Jax-Ur was still blind, his hands on his eyes, not knowing what to do; and then Clark was free.

The moment Jax-Ur managed to open his eyes, Clark's fist cracked his nose and tossed him to the ground.

"Not looking so weak now, am I?"

It was only because of her incredible self-control that Natasha didn't jump back when she saw the man behind her. Even so, the very thought that this man had managed to sneak up on her so easily was grating on her nerves.

"Where did you come from?" Natasha asked, pretty sure that her room was locked.

The man seemed to find this funny.

"The command key, Miss Romanoff," he answered with a nod to it. "Thanks to you, I'm uploading into the ship's mainframe."

Uploading into the ship's mainframe? Was he like Jarvis?

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"I'm Kal's father, Jor-El"

His biological father, Natasha realized, her eyes taking the similarities between them almost automatically. He had told her about this, the hologram on his ship.

"Can you help us?" she asked, trying to keep her thoughts focused.

Jor-El's expression could almost be translated as "Are you really asking me this?".

"I designed this ship. I can modify its atmospheric composition to human compatibility," he answered, looking at her with his intelligent eyes. "We can stop them. We can send them back to the Phantom Zone."

"How?"

"I can teach you. And in turn you can teach Kal," he said. "Will you help me?"

It was Natasha's turn to give him the "Are you really asking me this?" look.

Clark's father smiled and told her his plan to defeat them. As soon as he did that, an alarm began to sound and her helmet retracted itself.

"The ship's crew is alerted, we need to move quickly," he warned. "Retrieve the command key."

Natasha ran to the mainframe and pulled the command key back.

"How strong are they in this environment?" Natasha asked, as he opened the door of her cell.

"Approximately as strong as your Avenger companion, Captain Rogers," he answered. "Avoid close quarters combat."

Natasha fiddled with her gloves for a moment; they started to buzz and emit a blue glow.

"And how well does electricity agrees with them?"

Jor-El smiled again.

"Door on your left, find out."

His warning was given in the nick of time. As he said that, a woman came out of the door, a pistol held in front of her. Without waiting to be noticed and shot, Natasha dashed to the front, jumping and kicking the arm that was holding the pistol so it would point to the ground; and then, before the Kryptonian had a chance to react, she brought her Widow's Bite under the woman's chin and unleashed a massive electric discharge.

The woman trashed and went down, unconscious.

"Pick up her side-arm," Jor-El said, starting to walk again.

Natasha grabbed the pistol and followed him. The alarm continued to sound non-stop as they made their way, Jor-El opening and closing doors every few seconds, probably cutting off reinforcements. He pointed to the right.

"To your right."

Without hesitating, Natasha fired the pistol in the direction he said, the blue energy hitting the running Kryptonian directly in the face. Hearing steps, she already turned shooting, without needing any advice, hitting another alien.

Three Kryptonians appeared on a door to her left, their weapons already aimed at her; before they could shoot, however, Jor-El closed it.

"Thanks," she said, running to the end of the corridor and entering the room.

He was already inside the room, being a hologram and all that, so Jor-El opened one of the escape pods for her.

"Secure yourself inside the under pod," he said, as Natasha hastily entered the pod. "Safe travels, Miss Romanoff. It's highly unlikely we'll be seeing each other again."

"It was a pleasure to meet you," she said.

He smiled.

"The pleasure was all mine, Miss Romanoff, to finally meet one of my son's friends. Now, remember, the Phantom Drives are essential in stopping them."

"I remember, don't worry."

He nodded, then stopped.

"Move your head to the left," he said, his voice perfectly calm.

Natasha found this to be a weird request, but as soon as she heard steps she did what he told her; right on time to dodge a powerful punch that passed through his fading hologram and collided by the side of her head, opening a hole in the metal.

She had one second to pull her pistol and start shooting, seeing the same woman she had just electrocuted look at her; well, it worked, but apparently not for long. The Kryptonian managed to grab her pistol from her but, as soon she did it, Natasha placed the Widow's Bite under her chin again; she took more pleasure than usual in seeing her eyes widen.

The discharge threw her back, but it didn't knock her out completely, so Natasha quickly pressed the button to launch the pod, listening to the sound of the pistol firing and hitting it. The closed pod fell down fast, being ejected from the ship in great speed, but something was wrong; the shots had damaged it, blue sparks where everywhere, and the whole thing was shaking.

That was not good.

Clark didn't know exactly why the ship's alarm was sounding, but it had something to do with Earth's atmosphere being the new breathable air in there. That meant that Natasha had used the command key and his father was messing with the ship's controls; he hoped she was okay.

Seeing Jax-Ur drag himself pathetically out of the room, his nose broken and the hands grabbing his own throat because of the new air, Clark closed the door and called Kelex back to his arm; only to turn and see his father's hologram waiting for him.

He looked at Jor-El, a stern expression on his face.

"Is it true what Zod said about the Codex?" he asked. "Can it really bring our people back?"

Jor-El looked to the wall by his side.

"Strike that panel" he said.

Clark, feeling much stronger since Krypton's air had been flushed from his body, punched the wall; the panel broke much like a piece of rock, fragments flying everywhere, instead of bending like he would expect the metal to do. The air began to be pulled out by the vacuum of the space and the unfiltered sun light entered, recharging his energies; Earth was immensely blue on the horizon.

Jor-El looked at him, his face serious.

"We wanted you to learn what it meant to be human first," his father explained, "so that, one day, when the time was right, you could be the bridge between two peoples."

His father turned to look at Earth.

"Look."

Clark followed his look to see an escape pod entering the atmosphere, seeming completed unstable and damaged. He focused his eyes, trying to see who was there.

"Natasha!" he exclaimed.

Jor-El looked at him.

"You can save her, Kal" he proclaimed, with absolute certainty. "You can save all of them."

Clark nodded and floated to space with his open arms, giving one last look to his father; and launched himself after Natasha's pod.