The next day.
Peter was at the farm, repairing a car.
John had gone to school, Star-Lord was tinkering with his gadgets in his room, and Clark was helping him out.
Right now, Peter didn't dare let Clark go to school.
If his powers went out of control and he accidentally crushed a student, it would be a complete disaster.
"Godfather, what should we do about Mr. Lionel Luthor? He doesn't seem to believe our explanation."
Clark asked with a worried expression.
"Even if he doesn't believe us, he won't act rashly. He's a smart man, so don't worry about it."
Peter spoke while gesturing for Clark to pass him the nearby wrench.
Clark handed it over and asked, "Godfather, is Mr. Luthor a good person? Dad doesn't think highly of him, but you said he's not purely bad. Is that true?"
Peter shook his head and replied, "The world doesn't divide people into simple categories of good and evil, as if good people are angels and bad people are demons. But Clark, you like reading Nietzsche—you should know that's not how the world works, right?"
Clark paused for a moment and replied, "Y-Yes, Godfather."
After thinking for a while, he added, "Nietzsche said that we classify people as self-sacrificing 'good' or selfish 'evil' because the weak don't want to be dominated by the strong. But since they can't fight back, they vent their resentment by labeling the strong as 'evil' while claiming 'goodness' for themselves."
"He also said that if someone slaps you on one cheek and you offer the other, it's not because you're noble, but because you lack the strength to retaliate. The only way to satisfy your sense of revenge is by branding the strong as villains. In his view, nature's values aren't about good and evil, but about strength and weakness."
Clark hesitated, pursing his lips. "I think he's wrong. Even though he makes some valid points."
"Oh?"
Peter looked at Clark in surprise.
This kid… has he developed his own independent philosophy?
"Because kindness and humility should never be dismissed as 'weakness' or 'cowardice.' Isn't humanity's greatness rooted in our capacity for empathy and emotional connection?"
Clark spoke his thoughts aloud, then glanced at Peter, looking a little uncertain. "Godfather, do you think I'm right?"
Peter was momentarily stunned before ruffling Clark's hair.
"Nietzsche was brilliant, but sometimes he came across as a ruthless, bloodthirsty man who had little sympathy for the suffering of ordinary people. He didn't care about doctrines, democracy, or the rights of the majority."
"So…"
Peter paused before smiling. "I think you're absolutely right."
"Alright, now help me lift the car. I need to check the chassis. But be careful—don't use too much force, or you might send it flying."
Peter instructed Clark as he prepared to work on the vehicle.
Clark nodded, placed his hands on the car, and attempted to lift it.
But no matter how hard he tried, the car didn't budge an inch.
Finally, he turned to Peter with an embarrassed look. "Uh… Godfather, I think I… can't do it anymore."
Peter: "…."
That night, Peter watched the news on TV.
"The National Weather Service has issued a tornado warning for the Kansas region, classifying it as a 'particularly dangerous situation.' The Storm Prediction Center warns that multiple tornadoes could form in Kansas and parts of Oklahoma, some of which may be severe. For the safety of the public, please take necessary precautions to protect lives and property."
"A tornado?"
Peter glanced at the news broadcast, then looked out into the dark night.
First, it was solar flares. Now, a tornado-level extreme weather event.
Was this caused by the World Tree?
He remembered that when the World Tree descended, it triggered a minor earthquake in town, followed by a series of extreme weather events.
Ever since the World Tree appeared, trouble had been relentless.
Peter walked to the window and gazed at the white ash tree in the yard.
Then, he glanced at his watch.
The hands were nearing the end of their cycle. The arrival of the third child was imminent—likely within the next few days.
If Smallville got hit by a tornado, things were going to get complicated.
"Dad, should we leave Smallville like we did during the wildfire?"
John frowned as he asked Peter.
"Not necessarily. It depends on the storm's strength and whether the tornado will hit this area."
Though he said that, his brows furrowed in concern.
Three days later, Peter received an evacuation notice—Smallville's residents were being asked to leave town to avoid the approaching tornado.
"12 hours to evacuate."
Peter checked his watch, his frown deepening.
The third child's arrival was getting closer. He couldn't leave now.
"Alright, Star-Lord, pack up our things. John, move the livestock to the underground shelter."
Peter issued instructions. "Move fast."
John and Star-Lord hurried off to complete their tasks.
Outside, the wind howled, sweeping up leaves and crops, hurling them chaotically in all directions.
Dust and sand whirled through the air, turning the sky into a gray haze.
Only the World Tree in the yard remained unmoved—standing firm like an unshakable rock.
Once Star-Lord had packed their belongings and John had secured the livestock, Peter drove them toward the Kent farm.
At the farm, Peter got out of the car. After exchanging a few words with Jonathan and Martha Kent, he urged them to take Star-Lord and John to safety.
"Dad, aren't you coming with us?"
John looked at him in surprise.
He had thought Peter was driving to take them away, but it turned out his father intended to stay behind.
"I'll meet up with you later. You and Jonathan should go first," Peter reassured them.
"No, Dad," John refused outright, his tone serious. "I'm staying with you."
Star-Lord quickly chimed in, "Me too, Dad! I'm not leaving without you."
"Are you two disobeying me now?"
Peter shot them a glare but then took a deep breath to calm himself. "Did you forget? Your dad isn't an ordinary person. A natural disaster like this won't harm me so easily."
"But..."
John hesitated, but Peter patted his shoulder and said, "John, you have to take care of your little brother."
John glanced at Star-Lord, reluctant, but in the end, he nodded reluctantly.
"Dad, promise me you'll come back to us safe and sound," Star-Lord asked worriedly as he stepped closer.
"Of course. I promise."
As he spoke, Peter handed Star-Lord a cage containing Rocket Raccoon. "You have to promise me, too—take good care of Rocket. Can you do that?"
"I will, Dad," Star-Lord said with a firm nod.
As night fell, the weather worsened.
Howling winds and torrential rain swept across Smallville.
Thunder rumbled through the sky as rain lashed down relentlessly.
On the road outside of Smallville, the residents evacuating the town were driving forward at a slow pace due to the storm.
"Screech!"
Jonathan stepped on the brakes and sighed as he saw the cars stopping ahead. "Looks like there's some kind of accident up front."
John anxiously stared out the window into the rain, his mind fixated on the farm and his father.
Peter still hadn't caught up to them, which only made him more worried.
As soon as the car stopped, John made up his mind—he pushed the door open and jumped out.
Before Jonathan and Martha could react, John had already disappeared from the back seat.
Star-Lord barely had time to process what was happening before John was gone from sight.
Seeing John run off, Star-Lord panicked and tried to get out of the car as well, but Clark grabbed his arm to stop him.
Martha saw Star-Lord's anxious expression and quickly reassured him, "Calm down, Star-Lord. Don't you trust your father?"
Listening to the pounding rain and endless rumbling thunder outside, Star-Lord's voice trembled with worry. "But John, he—"
Clark, though worried himself, remained rational. "John can fly. He'll be fine."
Meanwhile, near the Podrick Farm—
Martha McDonald, who had been delayed at school while organizing the students' evacuation, was driving as fast as she could to get out of town.
She wiped the rain off her face, her clothes completely soaked through. She glanced at the time and pressed the accelerator.
As she passed Podrick Farm, she noticed the lights inside were still on.
Through the blurred rain-streaked windshield, she thought she saw a figure in the farmhouse.
Was that Peter? Or one of his kids?
Whoever it was, they were in danger.
Her rational mind told her to keep driving, but emotionally, she just couldn't.
After all, Peter had saved her once.
Clenching her teeth, Martha grabbed an umbrella and stepped out into the storm.
Rain pounded down as she trudged through the muddy ground toward the farm.
Inside the farm, Peter stood beneath the World Tree, eyes fixed on his wristwatch.
The hands of the watch were nearing their final mark.
As he watched, there was a sharp "click"—the hands aligned at the endpoint.
Peter's head snapped up as the World Tree suddenly radiated a mysterious, misty aura that swiftly engulfed him.
In an instant, he was transported into an endless void.
Then—
"Whoosh!"
A streak of dazzling multicolored light shot toward him.
Reacting instantly, Peter reached out and caught the light.
With a soft "thud," a small blue-skinned infant landed in his arms.
At the same time, a vast stream of knowledge flooded his mind.