House of Valen Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Tower of Valen

Nox cut across the night sky, the last traces of battle lust simmering in his body. The neon sounds, smoke, and shadows of Gotham stretched below.

In the distance a single destination gleamed like a beacon.

A tower dominated the skyline, its sharp edges cutting through the haze, its lights glowing in a cool silver and deep violet. Along the side, bold letters burned against the darkness.

Valen Dynamics.

The city saw a corporation, a research hub like Wayne Enterprise or LexCorp. But Nox knew better; this was no mere company. It was his home; the House of Valen reborn among Gotham’s steel and stone.

He angled upward, blasting past rows of windows until he reached the top floor, where no public eyes could follow. With a burst of controlled speed, he slipped through a retracting steel aperture concealed in the roof.

Warmth greeted him immediately, not from the hum of technology, but from the woman waiting at the center of the chamber.

His mother moved swiftly, arms open, “Nox!”

Before he could say a word, she had pulled him into a crushing embrace. Her hair brushed against his cheek as she pressed him close, her frame far smaller but her grip still stronger than iron.

He could’ve broken free with ease, but he never wanted to. You could say he was a mama’s boy, but on the other hand, his father is normally always working on the next biggest thing. So they see him very little.

Despite the Saiyan blood running through her, she was nothing like the battle-mad brutes of her world. She was gentle, forgiving, and soft in her strength. That was why he loved her more fiercely than words could express.

Something he didn’t have in his last life.

“You’re bleeding again,” she scolded lightly, though her voice carried more concern than anger. She pulled back, brushing a streak of blood from his jaw with her thumb. “Honestly, Nox… Must you throw yourself at that man so often? One of these days you’ll come home in pieces.”

Nox grinned, teeth glinting even as crimson stained them. “You say that like it hasn’t happened before. Relax, Mother. I walked away this time; it’s a great improvement from the past, where I would have to crawl.”

The look on her face was half a glare and the other half a sigh of relief. She wasted no time pressing a small vial into his hand. It was a liquid that shimmered faintly, golden-silver, alive with energy, one of his father’s concoctions.

Kryptonian biotech mixed with Saiyan biology, refined into a potion that accelerated healing.

He uncorked it without hesitation, downing it in one gulp. The sharp burn seared down his throat, then spread warmth through his chest. Muscles stitched, bones knit, pain dissolved. He rolled his shoulder with satisfaction.

“See?” he said smugly, flexing his arm. “Good as new.”

She shook her head, exasperated, though the corners of her lips curved upward. “And… what exactly did you do this time, hmm? Destroy half of Smallville? Did you two level another mountain for fun?”

“Almost,” he admitted with a chuckle. “We went flying and punched each other hard enough to cause a hurricane. It was glorious.”

“Glorious, huh,” she repeated flatly, raising a brow. “That’s one word for it. I’d call it reckless.”

“That’s what keeps me alive,” Nox countered, smirking. “Besides… every time he breaks me, I come back stronger. You should be proud. Your son is the only one on this planet who can push Superman back… a few inches.”

She laughed, and at the same time her eyes softened as one of her hands rose to cup his cheek. “Oh, Nox… I’m proud of you no matter what. But don’t mistake my love for approval of your madness. I don’t care if you grow strong enough to rival the gods themselves. Just stay alive; that’s all I want.”

His grin faltered, just for a moment. For all his bravado and thrill in combat, it was her words, the steady warmth in her voice that struck deeper than any blow Clark had ever landed.

Before he could answer, the door hissed open. A tall man stepped inside, dressed in crisp attire that seemed more suited for a scientist than a warrior. His dark eyes took in the scene.

Blood still dried on Nox’s face, the empty vial clutched in his son’s hand, and the faint crackle of lingering energy hung in the air around him.

The faintest sigh escaped his lips.

His voice carried authority without needing to be raised. “Nox, you’ve been testing yourself against Superman again.”

It wasn’t really a question but a foregone conclusion.

Nox turned, smirk already back in place. “Of course, who else is worth my time?”

His father’s presence shifted the air. He crossed the floor with quiet steps, his gaze heavy on Nox. “You risk yourself too much,” he sighed. “Every time you fight him, you push harder than before. One day, you’ll break beyond what even our science can mend.”

Before Nox could retort, his mother’s voice cut in with a softer tone, but no less firm. She brushed her fingers through his hair, straightening what his battle had left wild. “He’s right, Nox. You terrify me when you come home like this. Bloody, bruised, laughing like it's all some kind of game. I know you heal and grow stronger. But strength isn’t worth it if I lose my son.”

Nox leaned back against the counter, still smirking, though there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes. “You think I’m doing this just for me?” His tone softened slightly, enough to make them both pause. “I’m not putting myself through hell just for the thrill. I’m doing this for all of us.”

His father’s brow furrowed. “Explain.”

Nox folded his arms across his chest. His grin had vanished, replaced with a hard edge of conviction.

“Mom had told me her history of Frieza when I was younger. About the tyrant who destroyed her home, who feared the Saiyan enough to erase it before it could stand against him. What if someone on his level appears here or if something even worse shows up?” He shook his head. “Do you think Clark could handle it alone, or are the people of this world ready? No! Someone has to be strong enough to do what Superman can’t… end that threat for good.”

Silence stretched between them. His mother’s eyes softened, sadness swimming in their depths. “Frieza is gone, Nox. That story was from another life, another time. You don’t have to carry it like a prophecy.”

He looked at her with an intensity that almost made her flinch. “What if it happens again? What if there are enemies even more unstoppable, waiting out there in the stars? We don’t get second chances when the universe decides to throw a monster at us. I won’t sit and wait for disaster. I’ll be ready.”

His father studied him for a long moment, lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, he sighed. “Your conviction is admirable. Completely foolish, but I can’t help but praise how deeply you push yourself. Just don’t mistake recklessness for preparation. Everything has its limits, Nox… even yours.”

His mother, however, had already moved past the lecture. With a sudden burst of tenderness, she tugged him toward the living room, ignoring his halfhearted protests. “Enough talk of death and monsters. You’re home, and I’m not wasting a moment of it.”

She sat him on the couch and slipped in beside him, curling close like she used to when he was a boy. Nox chuckled, draping an arm around her shoulders. His father remained standing, watching them with that mix of stern patience and hidden pride.

With a flick of the remote, the television blinked to life. Bright colors filled the screen with news anchors chattering urgently about a fire raging through a high-rise. Flames roar at shattered windows as dozens of people trapped in the blazing inferno yell for help.

Nox’s eyes narrowed just as a red-and-blue streak cut across the broadcast. Superman soared into view, his cape flaring behind him as he smashed through the glass. Cheers erupted from the civilians below. One by one, he carried survivors to safety, calm and collected as their perfect savior.

He couldn’t help but scoff while leaning slightly forward. “What a show-off.”

His mother laughed softly, shaking her head at her son. “You sound jealous.”

“Jealous?” Nox barked out a laugh. “Hardly, I just find it hilarious that the world fawns over him like he’s some kind of god when he refuses to deal with the real problems. He saves them today, and tomorrow that same villain will light another building on fire. It’s a cycle of stupidity.”

His father spoke up, calm as ever. “And yet people live another day because of him. That cycle you mock is the reason humanity still breathes.”

Nox waved a dismissive hand. “Spare me the philosophy. He’s afraid to do what’s necessary. That’s the difference between us. When the real monsters come knocking, I won’t just save the day. I’ll end it, permanently.”

His mother leaned in closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’ll still worry every time you walk out that door,” she murmured.

He glanced down at her, a rare flicker of softness in his eyes. “I know,” he said quietly. “But that’s why I fight harder. Not just for me, but for all of us.”

The room fell into a silence, broken only by the crackle of fire and Superman’s cape flashing across the TV screen.

His father said nothing more, but his gaze never left Nox. He was always impressed with the conviction of his boy and was confident he would shake the world in the future.