Clark Loses His Abilities

Chapter 47: Clark Loses His Powers

Splash, splash.

Dark clouds shrouded the sky as rain poured down in sheets, turning the farm's green grass into a muddy mess.

Jonathan, Martha, and David sat in the warm house, sipping hot tea.

Fat raindrops pelted the window, crackling against the glass.

"Why isn't Clark back yet?"

Holding a steaming cup of black tea, Martha glanced outside with concern.

"I saw Chloe call him away."

Taking a sip of hot tea, David replied.

"He's probably helping Chloe proofread."

Jonathan worried about his eldest son's safety.

"It's just a heavy rain, not a flood. Clark will be fine."

He said with a smile.

Thump!

Suddenly, a weak hand slapped against the door.

A tall figure pushed it open, his torn clothes caked in mud, wet hair plastered in strands against his face. He stumbled and collapsed awkwardly into the house.

Crack!

A blinding flash of lightning lit up Clark's pale face as he lay on the floor, a few streaks of blood on his cheek.

"Clark, what's wrong?"

Jonathan and Martha were startled—they'd never seen their son like this. Flustered, they rushed to help him up.

Martha touched her son's forehead. It was burning hot, and she gasped in shock.

"Ah, why is your forehead so hot?"

"Are you okay?"

David's expression shifted, his brow furrowing as he quickly took the heavy Clark from his parents' arms.

Seeing Clark this battered only reminded him of encounters with Kryptonite.

"Did you and Lana get caught in the rain together and run into Whitney?"

"No... it's not that."

Soaked through and weak, Clark was helped into a chair by his brother. He looked up at David, panic in his eyes.

"David, my... my powers are gone!"

The family stared in disbelief.

"What do you mean?"

David was taken aback.

He didn't understand. Had Superman ever lost his powers before?

Even with the overcast sky and rain outside, it wasn't a Red Sun that would drain a Kryptonian's strength.

"I don't get it either.

I got struck by lightning before coming home, and then my powers vanished."

Clark looked at his burned hands. Suddenly, a drop of blood fell onto them.

He touched his nose—it was bleeding. His vision went dark, and he slumped onto the table.

"Clark?"

David was about to ask if Clark had accidentally inhaled Kryptonite dust.

That could temporarily disable his powers.

But Clark had already passed out.

"David, we need to take your brother to the hospital."

Panicked, Martha wanted to drive through the rain immediately. Jonathan grabbed her arm.

"Wait, Martha."

If they went to the hospital and a doctor found something unusual, it would cause trouble. He didn't want to lose the son he'd worked so hard to raise.

"Maybe this is normal for Clark. Let's wait and see."

Clark wasn't from Earth. No one knew if he'd go through special phases as he grew—like bears hibernating in winter or butterfly larvae spinning cocoons.

"No need, Mom."

Listening closely to Clark's heartbeat, David frowned.

"Clark's heartbeat is strong and steady. He probably just overexerted himself and passed out from the fever."

"Two doses of medicine and some rest should fix him up."

"Really?"

Martha looked at her serious youngest son, half-believing, half-doubting.

Clark's body was normal in some ways—far stronger than an ordinary person—but compared to a Kryptonian, it was wildly abnormal.

For now, though, there was clearly no danger to his life.

"I'll take him upstairs first."

A flicker of confusion crossed David's eyes at what had happened to Clark. Together with his father Jonathan, he hoisted Clark up the stairs.

A storm was raging. Avery, his blond hair plastered down and clothes torn, was running home.

Suddenly, his speed surged inexplicably. He shot across the ground like an out-of-control plane, breaking the sound barrier, exploding through raindrops, and slamming violently into a massive tree that would take several people to wrap their arms around.

Boom!

Like a rocket-propelled grenade strike, the tree burst apart, wood chips flying everywhere.

Avery pulled himself out of the shattered trunk, stunned as he looked at his completely unharmed body.

"What the hell? How am I not hurt at all?"

Even if a speeding truck had rammed into a tree like that, the front would've been crushed. But he was perfectly fine.

"And that speed just now?"

"I'm like an Angel Warrior from a comic book!"

Unable to believe it, Avery was both shaken and ecstatic at the miraculous scene before him.

This kind of power?!

Angel Warrior was a wildly popular comic that had been running for over a decade, accompanying countless kids through their childhoods. It told the story of a superhero, the Angel Warrior, who had speed beyond sound and a body of immense strength.

He tried throwing a punch experimentally.

Boom!

The air exploded like a pressure cooker boiling over, the sonic boom roaring for miles, drowning out even the thunder above.

In an instant, the rain and puddled water within several meters were violently blasted away. A visible shockwave of air surged forward, tearing through dozens of trees ahead like a typhoon, leaving a fan-shaped area that looked like it had been hit by a missile.

After a few dazed seconds, a laugh—wild and long-suppressed—rang out in the rain. Avery clutched his forehead, tilting his head back as he howled with laughter, one eye visible, brimming with unbridled defiance and arrogance.

With power like this, what in the world could stop him?

"I'll do whatever I want!"

The strap of his backpack snapped when it smashed into a roadside tree, the bag falling to the ground, books and homework spilling everywhere.

Before, he would've scrambled to pick them up, afraid of getting scolded by his parents when he got home.

But now...

Avery's lips curled into a deep sneer.

Now that he had the power of a god, did he still need school?

His parents—especially that rigid father of his—couldn't control him anymore!

He turned to leave.

From the fallen backpack, a fist-sized meteorite began to glow green, as if sensing something.

As he stepped past the backpack, Avery's legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground, a burning pain searing across his skin.

"My power's gone again?"

Sprawled in the muddy water, weak and powerless, he stared at the inexplicably glowing meteorite, his face dark with shock and suspicion.

"What the hell is this thing?"

The next morning, the rain had cleared, and bright sunlight streamed into the room.

On the warm, comfortable bed.

A cold towel was pressed to his forehead. Clark opened his eyes, feeling much better.

His parents and younger brother were all gathered around his bed.

He threw off the covers and sat up.

"Clark, how are you?" At his parents' concerned questions, a warm current flowed through Clark's heart. He smiled.

"I'm fine now."

Clark's gaze shifted to his brother. Though he stood there silently, his brows were furrowed, and his eyes carried both concern and a probing question.

"What exactly happened to you?"

It wasn't just David—the couple also wanted to know why their eldest son had turned out like this.

"Yesterday after school, I..."

Pressing his forehead, Clark thought back. It should have something to do with the lightning.

"Dam Bridge, Avery, saving someone, struck by lightning, green lightning?"

After hearing his account, the couple exchanged bewildered glances, unable to make sense of it.

"It must be the meteorite."

David shook his head.

Could it be that the lightning reacted with the Kryptonite, causing an effect on Clark similar to inhaling Kryptonite dust?