(THE ‘S’ STANDS FOR HOPE) CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO: SUPERMAN III

The first to greet him wasn’t human.

She appeared as little more than insubstantial invisible air, faint distortions that caught the light. But to Superman’s eyes, she was more than that. She was there. Every movement of her body trailed eddies that stirred his cape, the shape of her face gentle, curious, and tinged with something he recognized instantly.

Wonder.

Most couldn’t see her at all. She was the Custodian, Cauldron’s unseen warden, bound to the complex and forgotten by nearly everyone she served. But when he met her gaze, she smiled. It wasn’t much, a faint curve of lips emphasized by motion in the air, but it was something real, and warm.

“Hello,” he said quietly.

Her response wasn’t sound but a movement, air swirling upward to brush his hair in what felt unmistakably like greeting.

He followed as she led him through Cauldron’s maze-like corridors, passing doors that opened onto laboratories, archives, and rooms filled with the whirr of machinery. He already knew the path to the meeting room—he could have flown there in seconds—but he didn’t. The Custodian wanted to guide him, and after so long unseen, perhaps it mattered to her that someone truly saw her.

And truthfully, he suspected the detour wasn’t entirely her doing.

It gave the others time to assemble. So when the door finally slid open, he knew he wouldn’t be the first to arrive.

He didn’t mind. Cauldron liked to control every variable it could, and letting him arrive last was a quiet reminder that in their world, control was a kind of currency. And they were used to feeling in control.

The Custodian paused before the door, her outline rippling. He gave her a grateful nod, and for just a moment, she reached out, air brushing gently against his hand before she moved away from sight.

The door slid open.

The room beyond was spartan, with a single table stretching the length of it, surrounded by the people who were, for better or worse, shaping this world’s hidden future.

Doctor Mother, composed as ever, her white coat spotless, and her expression the practiced calm of someone who had long since traded warmth for clarity.

Contessa, still and inscrutable, eyes seeming to fix somewhere beyond him.

Number Man, leaning back slightly, and fingertips pressed together lightly in thought.

And Legend, the only one who met his arrival with something that resembled warmth.

Alexandria was absent, of course. Eidolon as well, for obvious reasons.

“Superman,” Doctor Mother greeted, voice clipped but polite. “Welcome back. Rebecca informed us of your intentions, though she left the details for you to explain.”

“I’m glad she did,” he said, inclining his head. “I wanted to explain my position in person.”

He took a seat opposite her. Doctor Mother regarded him in silence, hands folded, and expression unreadable. “You rarely request meetings without reason,” she said. “So when you do, the reason tends to be… significant.”

“It is,” he said simply. “I’m here because there are people suffering from powers they can’t control, people like Noelle Meinhardt and the Ash Beast. I’ve seen what happens when abilities turn inward and devour the mind. I want to change that. To give them a chance to live again.”

He continued. “With your help, if I can understand the principles behind Cauldron’s vials, I can begin working toward a cure.”

Number Man’s brow rose. “A cure,” he repeated, the word tasting like a foreign concept.

“Yes.”

Contessa finally looked at him. “You believe you can succeed where we’ve failed for decades.”

Superman met her eyes. He couldn't refute her words, though he didn't exactly agree with its implications. “You’ve been studying this as humans would. I’m not bound by those limits.”

That made them pause. Even Doctor Mother leaned forward, her gaze narrowing in faint curiosity.

“You’ve said before that you’re an alien,” she said slowly. “We assumed you meant you were simply from another alternate world like Earth Aleph, only one named Krypton.”

He shook his head. “No. My home isn’t another version of planet Earth. It’s a completely alien world. I was born there and sent to Earth as an infant when it was destroyed. My parents sacrificed themselves to give me a chance to live.”

The admission settled heavily over the room.

“I grew up human,” he continued, his tone softening. “My parents were farmers. They taught me compassion before I learned to fly, and I married a human woman. Lois Lane. She’s still my anchor, no matter how far I go. But though I am as human as you are, I can’t deny that I'm also Kryptonian. And that means I can process data faster than any computer on this planet, and I can see molecular structures as clearly as you see this table. If there’s a way to save them, I’ll find it.”

Legend exhaled slowly, lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. “You’re serious.”

“I don’t make empty promises.”

Doctor Mother studied him for a long, unreadable moment. “You’re asking for access to our core research,” she said finally. “Our technology and our research.”

“Yes.”

“That information is the cornerstone of everything we’ve built. We’ve lost people, good people, trying to protect it.”

“I understand,” he said. “But if that knowledge can help us stop the suffering your own vials have caused, then keeping it locked away helps no one.”

The silence stretched. Then Contessa spoke again, her voice low but cutting. “You said us. You consider yourself part of this?”

His response was immediate, repeating the same words he’d spoken before the cameras after Leviathan’s fall, words that had stirred the world and made even cynics pause.

“I didn’t choose to come here. But now that I’m here, I choose to stay and help. I’ve seen the strength of your people, and the bravery in the face of danger. I want to contribute to that.”

The words hung in the air.

Doctor Mother’s gaze softened, if only by a fraction. For the first time, she looked, not at Superman, the hero, but at Clark Kent, the man.

“I’ll consider it,” she said at last.

It wasn’t an agreement, but it wasn’t rejection either. And from Contessa’s nod, he knew that was as much as he would get.

Superman stood, nodding once. “That’s all I ask.”

As a portal appeared, and he turned to leave, he felt the whisper of air at his back: The Custodian again, unseen but present.

He smiled wildly. “Thank you,” he murmured.

And then he stepped through the portal, leaving behind only silence and the slight ripple of displaced air the only sign he’d ever been there.