[Third Person Pov]
Clark looked Yami straight in the face, his expression serious but slightly awkward after the intensely charged moment. "Listen… I'm going to ignore what just happened. Completely erase it from my memory. Deal?"
Yami, who had finally pushed herself up to stand, nodded firmly. "Agreed. Forgotten."
Clark exhaled in relief and quickly decided to move the conversation forward. "So… How are you feeling now?"
Yami stared at him blankly for several long seconds, her eyes simply staring at him unblinking. "I thought we were going to forget what just happened."
Clark raised his fist and gave her a firm and hard whack on the head.
"Owie!" Yami crouched slightly, rubbing the spot with a rare pout. "Why did you have to do that?!"
"I wasn't talking about *that*," Clark said, exasperated. "I meant your energy levels. Are you able to move properly now?"
He exhaled again, rubbing the back of his neck more naturally. "I've never tried sharing my spiritual energy like that before. I was curious if it would actually work."
Yami fell quiet. She stared down at her open palm, slowly opening and closing her fingers. She could feel the raw, vibrant power coursing through every nanobot in her body — warm, limitless, and far more potent than anything she had ever experienced. After a moment, she looked back at Clark with her usual stoic expression… then suddenly shot forward with a fast, precise fist aimed directly at his face.
Clark's hand snapped up instinctively, catching her punch. The force was still strong enough to disturb the air around them with a visible ripple and force him to take one step back.
His eyes widened in genuine surprise. Yami slowly let a small, satisfied grin spread across her lips.
"Powerful," she answered simply, "I feel powerful"
She paused, savoring the feeling. "Normally I can last about a week without recharging. With this… I feel like I could go for months."
Clark nodded, visibly pleased. "Good. Then you're good to go." He turned to Kreel. "Take us to my sister next."
The group moved through the dimly lit prison corridors in relative silence. Their footsteps echoed softly against the cold metal floors. Yami walked just behind Clark, her gaze occasionally drifting to his side profile — tall, broad-shouldered, and radiating quiet strength.
After a few moments, she muttered quietly, almost under her breath "…Thank you."
Clark smirked without turning around. "Sure."
They continued walking. Yami's eyes then shifted suspiciously toward Kreel for a moment before returning to Clark. Yami walked in silence for a long moment, her sharp eyes fixed on Clark's broad back. The quiet hum of the prison corridor and the soft echo of their footsteps only amplified the tension building inside her. Finally, she couldn't hold it in any longer.
"Why did you do it?"
Clark glanced over his shoulder at her, genuinely confused. "Did what?"
"You know what," Yami said, her tone sharper now, laced with frustration. She stepped forward, forcing him to acknowledge her fully. "Why did you take that blast for me? You had no way of knowing if you would survive it. Did you?"
Clark started to slow down for a moment. He was quiet for a second, his expression turning thoughtful as he searched for the right words. "I did… and I didn't," he admitted honestly. "Part of me knew I'd probably be alright. Another part wasn't entirely sure."
Yami stopped walking completely. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air between them. Her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides.
"If you weren't certain you would survive… why?" Her voice dropped, intense and demanding. "I'm an assassin. I tried to kill you once. Death is natural for someone like me. I've already accepted that my job would eventually be where I meet my end. So why? Why risk everything for me?"
She glared up at him, eyes burning with a mixture of confusion, anger, and something deeper she refused to name. She needed an answer. A real one.
Clark didn't hesitate. His voice was calm, steady, and unwavering.
"Because I am Superman."
Yami waited. She stared at him, expecting a longer explanation — some grand reasoning, a calculated risk assessment, or at least a logical justification. When nothing more came, she pressed again.
"And?"
Clark and the others stopped walking as well. He turned to face her fully, looking genuinely confused by her reaction. "And what?"
Irritation flashed clearly across Yami's face. Her brows furrowed deeply. "You're Superman… so what? What's your reasoning for doing something that stupid?"
Clark simply shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling with effortless confidence. "So nothing. You asked for the 'why.' There it is."
Yami blinked at him, utterly flabbergasted. For a moment, her usual stoic mask cracked completely. "You mean to tell me… the reason you threw yourself in front of that blast — without knowing if you'd live or die — was simply because you're Superman?"
"Yup," Clark replied nonchalantly, continuing to walk down the corridor as if the conversation was perfectly normal.
Yami didn't move from where she stood, forcing the group to wait for her. "I'm sorry, but I refuse to believe it's that simple."
Clark turned fully toward her this time. His expression was calm, but there was a resolute strength in his eyes that made the air feel heavier. "I'm sorry, but sometimes it *is* that simple. Being Superman means putting action before thought. Before consequences. Before reason. When a life is in danger… I have to act. That is what it means to be Superman."
Yami stared at him, completely breathless. Her lips parted slightly as she looked at him like he had lost his mind. The weight of his conviction was almost too much to process.
"You… you're insane…"
Clark tilted his head back with a cool, confident grin. He pointed his thumb at his own chest, posture straight and proud. "Actually… I'm Superman. Whether you or I like it or not, that's who I am now. And that's who I'll continue to be."
For a brief, breathtaking moment, a powerful mental projection materialized around him. The iconic red-and-blue suit with its flowing crimson cape appeared in vivid, radiant detail — glowing with golden solar energy and an almost divine authority. It was so real, so commanding, that it felt as if reality itself bent for a second to acknowledge the symbol. The projection pulsed with quiet power before slowly dispersing into shimmering golden mist that faded into the corridor air.
Clark turned back around and started walking again, casual as ever. "Now come on. Stop asking me dumbass questions like that."
Yami stood speechless for several long seconds. The words she wanted to say were stuck in her throat. A storm of emotions swirled inside her — disbelief, irritation, reluctant admiration, and something warmer she didn't want to examine too closely.
She eventually sighed, looking down at the floor to hide the small, reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
"…Okay," she whispered softly, almost to herself.
She hurried to catch up with him, her steps lighter than before.
They continued down the corridor until they reached Momo's cell. Inside, Momo sat on the floor with a large iron ball construct chained to her leg, casually blowing a melancholic tune on a harmonica she had also manifested.
The moment she saw them, her eyes lit up. She instantly dispersed both constructs with a wave of her hand.
"Finally!" Momo exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "I swear I was about to lose my mind in here. Come and get me out already!"
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