The two flew through space locked in an embrace. Even the Solar System behind them seemed to slow its rotation as Superman blew a frigid breath mixed with ice crystals at his opponent, trying to create an opening for himself.
The white freezing current struck the statue's face, and the powerful pressure forced its head slightly backward. Yet those arms, like greasy rubber hoses, remained tightly wrapped around Clark's neck, squeezing ever harder.
Fortunately, Superman possessed the Man of Steel. A noose that would have snapped an ordinary person's neck countless times only made breathing somewhat difficult for him.
Because of that, Clark could not blow out much air, and the opportunity was fleeting. He drew up his knees in midair, then kicked fiercely at the other's chest in a Rabbit Kicking Eagle posture.
Yet when his feet met the sensation of sinking into rotten mud, he realized things had become troublesome.
"Meaningless resistance, Kal-El." The White Frost-shrouded statue spoke. It seemed to be laughing, yet also sighing. "Give up. Your destiny has already been decided."
"Never!" Superman retorted with difficulty.
For at that moment, all sorts of illusions inexplicably appeared in Clark's mind. He was driving a tractor across the vast fields of Kansas, golden wheat rolling like ocean waves. The wind carried the scent of freshly baked pie, and the family farm lay not far away, with his parents smiling as they waited for him by the door.
A voice sounded in his mind. It was entirely different from the statue before him—a gentle, elegant female voice that kept repeating:
"Relax, relax, relax."
That voice seemed to want to lead his soul somewhere, somewhere far from the mortal world, where there would never again be troubles or worries. Though he still did not know exactly where it was,