"I believe you, my ass!"
Locke gave Dio a solid flick on the forehead, making the blond boy bare his teeth in pain.
His face darkened, his voice carrying the sternness of someone who had narrowly escaped death:
"Listen, while luring the enemy away did help Dad out a lot this time, there absolutely won't be a next time for this kind of suicidal fighting!"
Staring at Dio's slightly pale face, Locke still felt lingering fear.
"If that fire-wielding bastard had been a little more ruthless, a little faster, with that tiny body of yours..."
"Tch."
Rubbing his reddened forehead, Dio curled his lip, clearly unconvinced by his father's worries.
Besides, there was something else he cared about more right now.
He raised a hand and pointed toward the out-of-place presence on the other side of the room.
"So," Dio muttered, "can you tell me now? Who exactly is this little brat...?"
Following his eldest son's gaze,
Locke saw a baby quietly curled up in a soft swaddle, his little face rosy, his breathing even. Sunlight filtered through the gap in the curtains and fell across him, as though draping him in a soft glow.
"How long was I out?"
He threw back the covers and discovered that even his clothes had been changed into clean pajamas.
"One night."
Dio folded his arms.
"Still."
"The Luthor family doctors said you needed to stay in bed for at least a week, but Dad..." He paused. "You look energetic enough to punch a bull to death right now."
Only one night? So it happened last night...
Locke's heart sank.
His memories surged back into his mind like a violent tide reeking of sulfur:
The howling fire monster, the blue ladybug that had shattered after taking a fatal blow for him, and...
The