Batman should have been shocked, but Clark's tone held no aggression, not even any desire. It was not the tone an invader should have, nor even that of a savior.
"You want to ask why I want to invade or save them, but that isn't what we're doing." Clark shook his head.
"We are them. We are all sons of farmers, sons of the land."
Batman fell silent.
Superman was many people. He was a Kryptonian, Metropolis Superman, the Superman of the Justice League and the Justice Lords, a superhero and the companion of countless other superheroes.
Batman had heard him talk about these subjects countless times: a spaceship that had fallen in Smallville, his career as a reporter in Metropolis, the Justice League's past, and the many superheroes around him and the things they had said to him.
But Batman had never understood Clark Kent from the perspective of a farmer's son.
That mark on him was too faint. He talked about current affairs, media, and journalism; about Metropolis trends; about the construction of the Justice League base; about his friendship with all of them. But he hardly ever talked about the land.
Perhaps those subjects had been stripped away from him at some stage of his growth. So the person Batman knew was a man of Metropolis, not a youth from Smallville.
But now he did.
Had Overlord Superman ever had such a moment? Batman found that he could not even imagine such a scene. Overlord Superman would even talk with him about a bird or a plane that had flown past him that day, but they had never talked about the land.
They should have talked about it, because it was something Superman had actually practiced and excelled at, yet something Batman understood without ever having personally