In American comics, drawing cards reveals wave-particle duality

Originally, Jonathan had reservations about killing Zod.

In his opinion, the other party is nothing more than a hawkish Kryptonian leader. If he uses the fate of his entire surviving clan as a bargaining chip, Zod may still surrender.

After all, Zod's original purpose was to rebuild Krypton.

All Jonathan needs to do is take them across, and one day they will find a suitable planet.

Whether it is Star-Lord's biological ball dad or The Wandering Earth, it is a good choice.

But Zod's final sneak attack made Jonathan give up the idea of ​​keeping him.

He wanted to eliminate any threat to himself.

Looking at Zod, who was dead beyond death, a trace of disbelief flashed in Clark's eyes.

"and many more!"

Clark grabbed a corner of Jonathan's raised cape.

"You actually killed him?"

Jonathan turned his head with an even more incredulous expression, and the star-red light in his eyes made Clark instinctively take a half step back.

"No buddy... Zod has come to your house to kill you, and your adoptive mother almost met Jesus. Why don't you kill him and wait for the New Year?"

"And...why do you think Zod can locate Earth?"

"It's because of the Life Code on you! A hawkish general like him will not stop until he achieves his goal. Keeping him here will only become a threat."

"As for why I want you to give me the Codex of Life, it is also to prevent you from being attacked by other surviving Kryptonians who appear out of nowhere."

Jonathan didn't expect Clark to have such a big heart.

If anyone dared to touch his family, Jonathan would not hesitate to throw him into the largest septic tank in the United States to eat protein and supplement nutrition.

"Your character is really not good enough..."

Jonathan looked at Clark, who looked confused, and shook his head.

As the battle came to an end, some reporters and crowds gradually began to gather around, followed by the American army.

"...Aren't these reporters afraid of death?"

Jonathan narrowed his eyes and found that these reporters and the crowd had unfriendly expressions and were definitely not there to express his gratitude.

damn...

This kind of scenario is definitely for accountability.

Jonathan vaguely remembered the anime "One Punch Man" that he had watched that year. Sensei Saitama smashed a meteorite that could destroy the entire city with one punch, but the remaining debris inevitably caused damage.

Instead of being grateful, the people in the city began to blame Saitama and repayed him with evil.

And the situation now is almost exactly the same.

Jonathan is not a saint to begin with. Instead of being a perfect hero who is morally constrained, it would be better for him to be a kind-hearted fellow countryman.

"Poor kid..."

"Just in time to give you your first lesson in humanity."

Thinking of this, Jonathan looked at Clark who was still in deep thought with pity, patted him on the shoulder, and then gathered his strength and flew away from where he was.

The speed was so fast that Clark just looked up and found that Jonathan had disappeared.

Clark: ???

Not far away, dazzling flashes of light were sweeping towards us like anti-aircraft guns.

What happened?

Clark stood up somewhat numbly, and his super sense of smell smelled a strong smell of blood——

It was floating from the ruins of a collapsed office building not far away.

A woman's arm protruded from the rubble, already blue.

The medical staff were trying to pull her out, but judging by her posture, they might only be able to recover a corpse.

"Mr. Alien..., do you know that the death toll in Metropolis has exceeded two thousand?"

A female reporter wearing brown-framed glasses rushed to the front, her eyes red and her voice trembling.

Clark recognized her—Jane Turing, who had greeted him in the Daily Planet offices this morning.

And now, her fiancé John is in intensive care with spinal damage caused by the collapsed billboard.

"What about the other person? Did he flee from the crime?"

The reporter in the camel windbreaker was aggressive.

"The government's preliminary estimate of damages is over $900 billion. Damn, that's worse than 911/!"

Not far away, firefighters were searching for survivors in the wreckage.

Looking around, this place was a bustling commercial district a few hours ago, but now it looks like Syria that has been subjected to strategic bombing.

The broken steel bars looked like hideous skeletons, and the broken glass fragments flashed ironically in the sunlight.

A dusty teddy bear lay alone in the middle of the road, and it was unknown whether its owner was dead or alive.

"These aliens are coming for you, right?"

The masses are not fools. It is self-evident why these aliens choose to fight Clark and another mysterious man.

Clark opened his mouth, but his throat felt like it was blocked by lead.

He wanted to explain that it wasn't all his fault, but looking at the ruins around him, he finally understood why Jonathan left.

Perhaps Jonathan already knew the consequences of the war.

Ordinary people paid the price of their battles in blood.

But...we saved you.

Clark could only smile bitterly.

It's obvious that Jonathan wants him to take the blame!

"I......"

Clark's voice was hoarse.

"I will take responsibility to the end."

"Responsible? How?"

Jane sneered.

"Can you resurrect the dead? Can you regrow a severed limb? Can you put a broken family back together?"

Clark was silent.

He looked up at the sky; the sunlight was still blinding.

But at this moment, the light was no longer warm. Instead, it was like a sharp scalpel, cutting open the unrealistic fantasy in his mind.

Two days later, at the beach of Paradise Island.

Diana walked barefoot across the fine sand, her red coral manicure gleaming in the sun.

The waves gently licked her slender ankles, and the long silk halter dress was lifted up by the sea and the side wind, with a high slit on the edge, and her bronze legs were faintly visible under the chiffon.

When she leaned over, the fine sand in the depression of her collarbone slid down with her movement, and the scent of roses mixed with the scent of sea salt wafted to her face.

"Jonathan...what are you thinking about?"

Diana's voice ended with a lazy tremor, and the iced glass was placed against Jonathan's Adam's apple.

The fingertips soaked in water ran across his taut jawline.

"It's Clark...Ah!"

The sudden pull made her fall onto the man's lap, and the citrus scent exploded between their pressed chests.

Jonathan rubbed his thumb against the exposed skin of her waist, which was beginning to heat up.

"how……"

He brushed his nose against the sweaty crook of her neck.

"Do you want to use orange juice this time or..."

Jonathan's words were cut off by Diana biting her lower lip.

She dug her fingertips into the open collar of his shirt and traced circles in the hollow of his collarbone.

Then she suddenly turned over and pressed the man into the fine sand. Her scattered long hair formed a black net in the golden light and fell on Jonathan's nose.

The sound of the tide in the distance suddenly became rapid, and when Jonathan turned over and enveloped her in shadow, sand was flowing into golden streams from the hollow of her waist.

"You're such a bad guy...leaving a mess for Clark to clean up."

The arch of Diana's foot hooked around his calf, and the last rays of sunset were dyeing the iris tattoo behind her ear purple.

"I don't plan to show up in public often... Since Clark has chosen to take action, his identity will be exposed sooner or later."

"I did this just to let him see the two sides of the world earlier."

Jonathan stroked Diana's hair gently.

"It's not easy to be a hero."

"Do you think they'll understand?"

Diana asked softly.

Jonathan raised his head and looked at the blazing sun in the sky.

“They have to understand.”

Jonathan whispered.

"Because soon, they will face a choice - evolve or die."

"The future will never be peaceful."

The sunlight from Capitol Hill shines through the stained glass, casting mottled shadows on the marble floor of the hearing room.

There was a faint smell of camphor in the air, which was the unique scent of old solid wood furniture.

Clark stood in the witness stand, his red and blue uniform looking out of place in this solemn political hall, like a touch of abrupt color breaking into a gray photo.

But his posture remained upright.

The twelve members of the Federal Investigation Committee sat on a high platform, their faces hidden in the shadows, with only the lenses occasionally reflecting a cold light.

The whole scene was filled with an invisible sense of oppression, and even the air seemed to be frozen.

"Under the First Amendment,"

Chairman Senator Robert Henderson spoke up.

His voice was hoarse and majestic, echoing in the empty conference hall.

"Every American citizen has the right to know. And now, a being claiming to be an alien is operating in our territory as a 'protector'."

He paused, staring sharply at Clark:

"It reminds me of the European missionaries during the colonial period who claimed to be 'civilizing' the indigenous people."

There was a murmur of discussion from the audience.

Clark's super hearing could pick up every whisper, and the words of suspicion, fear, and even disgust came clearly to his ears.

But his expression remained calm, only the muscles in his jaw were slightly tense.

"senator."

Clark spoke up.

"I understand your concerns..."

"understand?"

Vice Chair Emily Coleman suddenly interrupted him.

She is one of the few strong women in Congress and is known for her aggressiveness.

“The ruins of Manhattan are the truth, the hundreds of broken families are the truth.

Tell me, you, the 'superman' in the eyes of journalists, is this what you call protection?"

The temperature in the venue seemed to have dropped a few degrees.

"The cause of that disaster is what I want to explain today."

Clark met Coleman's sharp gaze.

"I come from Krypton, a destroyed civilization. General Zod... is also one of my kind."

This sentence was like a bomb, casting a heavy silence on the conference hall.

"so,"

Henderson slowly leaned forward, his cloudy eyes suddenly burst into a sharp light.

"Did your presence bring about this disaster? Did your presence plunge the Earth into a vortex of interstellar war?"

Clark didn't answer immediately.

He looked around and saw the hungry eyes of the reporters, the cold lenses of the cameras, and the complicated expressions of the citizens in the gallery.

At a certain moment, he seemed to see the faces of his adoptive parents, and the words that taught him how to get along with this world echoed in his ears.

"Yes,"

he finally said.

"Zod came for me. But not because of me. He wants to rebuild Krypton, even if it means destroying Earth."

Coleman sneered:

"What a noble cause. A general who wants to revive civilization, and a fugitive who claims to protect the Earth.

Excuse me, why do you think your choice is more correct than his? "

“Because this is my home.”

Clark's voice suddenly hardened.

“I grew up on a farm in Kansas, drinking the water and breathing the air.

I can fly into space, but I choose to stay on Earth, not because I want to be a savior, but because I, like you, regard this place as my home."

As soon as the voice fell, a young congressman stood up suddenly:

"So explain this guy called Jonathan."

This question was like a sharp knife, going straight to the core of the problem. The attention of the entire conference hall was focused on Superman, waiting for his explanation.

Clark was silent for a moment, as if thinking about how to phrase it.

But at this moment, Chairman Henderson, who had received some information, suddenly interrupted the topic.

"enough,"

He said, his voice full of unquestionable authority.

"There is a separate special committee investigating Jonathan.

Today we are going to discuss why, as an alien, you think you are qualified to decide the fate of the Earth. "

Meanwhile, in Metropolis' tallest office building, Lex Luthor turns off the live TV broadcast.

"Perfect."

He whispered to himself, a sarcastic smile on his face, feeling immense satisfaction at Clark's struggle in front of the committee.

"Everything is going according to plan."

"Superman, Superman,"

Lex muttered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"You think you are a god, but you are nothing more than a plaything of mankind."

Then he opened an encrypted file, which recorded in detail the battle between Jonathan, Clark and Zod.

"What a perfect chess piece."

He continued to look through the documents, the smile on his face growing wider.

"Let me add some excitement to this drama."