Chapter 13

The Kent farmhouse kitchen, usually a haven of warmth and homemade pie scents, now crackled with tension. Madelyn Stillwell, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit that seemed wildly out of place among the gingham curtains and well-worn furniture, sat rigidly at the kitchen table. Across from her, Clark Kent—Superman—looked comfortably at ease in flannel and jeans, a stark contrast to the caped figure who'd recently saved hundreds of lives.

"Ms. Stillwell, can I offer you some coffee? Or perhaps some of Mom's lemonade?" Clark asked, his tone genuinely hospitable.

Madelyn blinked, momentarily thrown off her carefully prepared script. "I... lemonade would be lovely, thank you."

As Clark busied himself pouring drinks, Madelyn found herself scanning the room, searching for hidden cameras or some sign that this was all an elaborate act. But there was nothing—just a quaint farmhouse kitchen and a young man showing simple hospitality.

"Here you go," Clark said, setting a tall glass of lemonade before her. "And please, let me get you a more comfortable chair. That one can be a bit hard on the back."

Before Madelyn could protest, Clark had swapped out her chair for a cushioned rocker from the living room. The thoughtfulness of the gesture left her momentarily speechless.

Jonathan and Martha Kent watched from the doorway, a mixture of pride and concern evident on their faces. They'd raised their son to be polite and considerate, even in the face of what they suspected was a less-than-friendly visit.

Once everyone was settled, Madelyn cleared her throat and launched into her pitch. "Mr. Kent—Superman—I'll be direct. Vought International would like to formally offer you a position within our organization. Your recent actions have demonstrated that you're exactly the kind of hero America needs, and we believe that together, we could do incredible things for this country and the world."

She went on to outline a staggering contract offer—billions in salary, global merchandising rights, a custom-designed uniform, and a level of fame and influence that would eclipse even Homelander's.

Clark listened patiently, his expression thoughtful. When Madelyn finished, he was quiet for a moment, considering his words carefully.

"Ms. Stillwell," he began, his voice gentle but firm, "I appreciate the offer, I truly do. But I'm afraid I have to decline."

Madelyn's practiced smile faltered. "I... I'm sorry? Perhaps I wasn't clear about the scale of what we're offering—"

Clark held up a hand, stopping her. "You were very clear, and it's an incredibly generous offer. But joining Vought would mean compromising the very reasons I do what I do."

He leaned forward, his blue eyes intense with sincerity. "I don't help people for fame or money. I do it because it's the right thing to do. Being part of a corporation, having my actions dictated by profit margins or public relations concerns—that would go against everything I believe in."

Madelyn struggled to maintain her composure. In all her years at Vought, she'd never encountered someone so... genuinely principled. It was almost disconcerting.

"Surely we can come to some arrangement," she pressed. "Think of the good we could do together, the lives we could save—"

"I'm already saving lives," Clark interjected gently. "And I'll continue to do so, with or without corporate backing. Ms. Stillwell, the work Vought does with superheroes—it's not all bad. But it's not entirely good either. The commercialization of heroism, the carefully managed public images, the cover-ups when things go wrong... that's not what being a hero should be about."

Madelyn felt a flicker of genuine admiration, quickly suppressed. This wasn't just naivety or youthful idealism. There was a depth of conviction in Clark's words that she rarely encountered in her line of work.

"You understand," she said slowly, "that by refusing this offer, you're potentially making an enemy of a very powerful corporation?"

Clark's expression remained calm, but there was a hint of steel in his voice when he replied, "I'm not looking to make enemies, Ms. Stillwell. But I won't compromise my principles out of fear either."

As the implications of Clark's refusal sank in, Madelyn found herself at a loss. Her usual tactics—manipulation, veiled threats, appeals to ego—seemed woefully inadequate in the face of such straightforward integrity.

"I... I see," she managed finally. "Well, Mr. Kent, I can't say I'm not disappointed. But I respect your decision."

As she gathered her things to leave, Clark once again surprised her with his courtesy. He helped her with her coat, thanked her for coming all this way, and even offered to walk her to her car.

Standing on the front porch of the Kent farm, Madelyn found herself oddly reluctant to leave. There was something refreshing about this place, about Clark's unaffected kindness and unwavering principles.

"You know," she said, almost to herself, "in another life, I might have admired what you're doing."

Clark smiled, a touch of sadness in his eyes. "It's never too late to change paths, Ms. Stillwell. To do what's right, even when it's hard."

As Madelyn's convoy pulled away from the farm, kicking up dust on the long driveway, she felt a strange mix of emotions. Professionally, this was a disaster. Superman's refusal would cause a PR nightmare for Vought, potentially shifting the entire landscape of corporate superheroism.

But personally? For the first time in years, Madelyn Stillwell found herself questioning the path she'd chosen.

Back in the farmhouse, Clark sat heavily at the kitchen table, the weight of his decision settling on his shoulders.

"You did the right thing, son," Jonathan said, clapping him on the back.

Martha nodded in agreement. "We're proud of you, Clark. Standing up for what you believe in, even when it's not easy."

Clark managed a small smile. "Thanks, Mom, Dad. I just hope I haven't made things worse."

As the Kent family gathered around the table, discussing the potential fallout of Clark's decision, news of Superman's refusal to join Vought was already spreading like wildfire.

________________________

In newsrooms across the country, journalists scrambled to break the story. Social media exploded with hashtags like #IndependentSuperman and #VoughtRejected.

At the Daily Planet, Lois Lane's fingers flew across her keyboard, her newest headline taking shape: "Superman Stands Alone: Hero Rejects Vought's Billions"

_____________________________________

In Vought Tower, Stan Edgar received Madelyn's report with cold fury. "Find a way to control this narrative," he ordered. "If we can't have Superman, we need to make sure the public sees him as a threat, not a hero."

And in a luxurious penthouse suite, Homelander watched the news unfold with a mixture of rage and fascination. Superman's refusal to join Vought both infuriated and intrigued him. Here was someone who could rival him in power, yet seemed to operate by a completely different set of rules.

As night fell over in Metropolis, Clark Kent stood on the roof of his apartment building, gazing out at the city he'd sworn to protect. The coming days would be challenging, he knew. Vought wouldn't take his refusal lightly, and the public's perception of him would likely shift.

But as he listened to the heartbeat of the city—to the millions of lives he'd dedicated himself to protecting—Clark felt a renewed sense of purpose. He'd made his choice, not out of arrogance or naivety, but out of a deep-seated belief in what heroism should truly be.

Whatever challenges lay ahead, Superman would face them as he always had: with integrity, compassion, and an unwavering commitment to doing what was right, no matter the cost.