A Trace of Thanos's Original Flavor

"Come down for breakfast, David."

Mother Martha's urging call came from downstairs. "You and Clark are going to be late for school."

"Right away, Mother."

Golden morning sunlight streamed through the window into the room. Having just washed up, David answered and changed out of his pajamas.

With short black hair, deep and sharply defined features, and a tall, slender build, he revealed lean, honed muscles as he took off his clothes. He looked clean and composed, like a quietly standing ancient Greek sculpture.

"What a shame..."

Standing before the mirror, David clenched his hand. His bones and muscles, tougher than High-Density Alloy, tensed and exerted force, while terrifying strength comparable to a volcanic eruption surged through his body.

Purple rapidly surfaced across his skin, and hard lines like ravines in the earth appeared on his chin, invisibly adding a touch of majesty. In the mirror, he looked like a silent king gazing quietly ahead.

"The Thanos template's fusion progress has been rising, but the way my skin color stands out whenever I exert too much force still hasn't improved."

Template Fusion Progress: 81%

After glancing at the progress, he relaxed, and the purple gradually faded from his skin. He put on his clothes.

A trace of helplessness appeared on his face as he headed downstairs.

"What was this supposed to mean?

Was retaining a bit of the original flavor the only way to show that I'd fused with the Thanos template?"

Still, at least he had not grown into Thanos's two-meter-sixty-or-seventy frame, with his beady eyes and bald head like a purple sweet potato.

David touched the hair on his head and sighed inwardly.

He simply could not handle that hairstyle of the strong at his age, while he was still only in high school.

Ding!

The toaster chimed crisply.

In the first-floor living room, the wheaty aroma of toasted bread wafted into his nose.

Tap, tap, tap!

David had barely come downstairs when light footsteps sounded behind him.

"Morning, David."

Passing his younger brother, Clark, tall and broad with a pair of azure eyes, entered the living room. Feeling a little thirsty, he casually opened the refrigerator and looked back. "Want a couple swigs of milk to wake up?"

As he spoke, he took out a large glass bottle of milk and drank two mouthfuls straight from it.

David raised an eyebrow, walked toward the dining table, and ignored his foolish older brother.

"Don't drink it like that, Clark."

Mother Martha hurried over and snatched the cold milk from his hand.

"Milk tastes better straight out of the fridge." The future Superman was still only a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old youth. He raised his hands and smiled.

"Where were your manners, Clark?"

Martha, who had just finished preparing breakfast, spoke with a headache.

Over more than a decade, a few wrinkles had quietly crept into the corners of the mother's eyes.

"Sit down and eat, David. You'll miss the school bus soon."

"Good afternoon, you two sleepyheads."

Jonathan, the rough-looking man who had just finished feeding the cows on the farms, came inside and took off his coat covered in hay, draping it over the sofa.

He took the milk from his wife's hand, naturally gulped down two mouthfuls, and commented on his two sons who had just gotten up.

His movements were practically copied from Clark's earlier actions.

"All right, now I know where your manners went."

Seeing this, Martha covered her forehead.

"After we got the new sofa, Mother said you should pat yourself down outside after feeding the cows in the morning before coming in, Father."

Taking the bottle from his father, David poured himself a glass of milk, bit into the steaming bread, and spoke unhurriedly.

Some hay from the coat had fallen onto the living room sofa.

"Next time. I'll definitely remember next time."

Used to being rough and careless, Jonathan turned back and gave his wife a slightly embarrassed look.

At the dining table, he pulled out a chair and sat down. After coughing twice, he said solemnly,

"Actually, I think choosing this hard-to-clean fabric sofa in the first place was a mistake.

After all, we live on a farm."

"At least there's still someone in this Kent household who's like me."

Gentle Martha did not get angry over the dirty sofa. She pressed a hand on her younger son's shoulder as he spoke up for her and raised her brows at the other two with gratification.

Clark rubbed his forehead and covered his face. He could not deny it. Born on a farm and raised on a farm, he usually paid as little attention to keeping the house clean as his father did, while his younger brother David was far more careful.

Helplessness from Superman Clark +3.

A stream of information flashed before his eyes. David did not even raise his eyelids as he took another bite of bread.

It had to be said that growing up alongside Clark, a walking gold mine, was precisely why his Thanos template had fused so quickly, granting him power beyond ordinary imagination.

In terms of time, David had arrived before the Kent couple's other son.

But before reaching Earth, the Son of Krypton had traveled through the Universe for a while, so he obviously looked older than David, who had only been born a few days earlier.

Thus, the Son of Krypton became the older brother, while David became the younger son.

"What are you looking at, Clark?"

Martha sat down and took a sip of milk. Seeing her eldest son absentmindedly staring at a slip of paper while eating, the corners of his mouth lifting as though he had fallen into a pleasant daydream, she could not help smiling.

"A permission slip."

Clark clumsily tried to hide the slip away.

"A permission slip for what?" Jonathan paused with the jam knife in hand and looked over.

"The school football team is holding tryouts this afternoon."

David, who attended the same school and class as Clark, casually added.

Even if David had not said it, his honest Kryptonian older brother would have truthfully told the adoptive parents who loved him.

"Clark..."

Hearing that it was for Football Team Tryouts, the atmosphere at the table changed. It suddenly fell silent, with only David continuing to eat casually.

The couple exchanged glances, and Martha hesitated as if she wanted to say something.

"What is it? You played football for the school team too, Father."

Clark, who wanted to join the football team, immediately sensed something was wrong and looked toward his father, the head of the household.

"But you're different, Clark.

We all know that."

Jonathan became somewhat serious. Facing his adolescent son, he tried to keep his tone gentle.

After loading the spaceship onto the pickup truck and carrying Clark home,

the couple had once wondered whether the baby they had found was really an alien.

He looked exactly like an Earthling. He had no horns on his head, no tail behind him, and no strange skin color.

"You could lift a pickup truck with one hand when you were little."

Until one day when Clark was seven, Jonathan had been repairing a car on the farm when the jack tilted sideways, and the car weighing over a ton was about to come crashing down.

Beside him, the young and innocent Clark displayed strength beyond ordinary imagination. He held up the car as if lifting a Plastic dinosaur toy and moved it aside.

However—Jonathan, who had stared wide-eyed in utter shock at the time, did not see that his biological younger son had reached out even faster from the other side of the car.

Clark had not noticed either, because something weighing over a ton was absurdly light to both of them.

"On the field, I'll do my best to hold back my strength."

Meeting his parents' eyes, Clark earnestly promised that he would control his power and not hurt anyone else, hoping to persuade his father.

"The appeal of sports lies in giving your all against others and surpassing yourself."

At the table, David suddenly spoke in a deliberately puzzled tone. "I don't really understand, my dear older brother..."

Especially football—American football—where physical clashes were intense and players had to carry the ball while charging and crashing across the field.

"What exactly would you experience by joining the school football team?"

Compared to the young Son of Krypton, human bodies were practically glass that shattered at a touch. On the field, Clark would probably have to devote all his attention to carefully controlling his strength.

"Father, I promise I'll be careful."

Hearing his younger brother call him dear older brother again and again, while every word made their parents' gazes turn suspicious, Clark felt utterly depressed.

It had to be because other families doted on their younger sons, while his family was abnormal and cared more about the eldest. His younger brother always targeted him from time to time, claiming it was for his own good.

"I know you will, but what if—what if something happens?"

Precisely because he had played football, Jonathan knew that a football field was filled with constant running and collisions.

How could an elephant, while charging at full speed, make sure it never hurt a kitten every time it knocked one away?

"I..."

As always, sensing the seriousness and resolve hidden within his father's gentle words, Clark dejectedly conceded.

It was always like this. Every time, it was what if, just in case, suppose...

How was he supposed to argue against that?

"Father, I've had enough."

The young Clark grew more stifled the more he thought about it, and his voice rose several degrees with agitation.

"I've had enough of avoiding every activity, of only being able to sit in a corner of campus and quietly read, unable to do anything.

I could clearly be more popular, just like everyone else..."

Thank you all for bookmarking and following along. I'm working hard to sort out the plot, and once the contract is signed, I'll begin updating twice a day.