Kal had walked out of the cafeteria with a lightness in his chest he hadn't felt since waking up in this strange world.
And now, as he stepped into Biology, it was as if gravity itself shifted.
Alice was already seated at their shared table near the back. She glanced up at his approach, her golden eyes bright with their usual spark. But when he smiled — open, easy, and completely unguarded — she blinked in surprise.
"You're early," she said, watching him with that signature tilt of her head. "And smiling. What's got you so happy?"
Kal slid into his seat beside her, the chair legs scraping softly against the floor. "Nothing," he said, his voice low and a little rough. "Just sitting next to you again."
The silence between them stretched sweetly. Alice's lips parted, stunned. Then she laughed — soft and genuine, looking down as if to hide a blush.
"You're in a good mood today," she said, eyes glinting as they met his again. "Usually takes a few sarcastic quips and a meteorological report before I get a full sentence out of you."
He grinned. "Guess you're rubbing off on me."
Before she could reply, Mr. Molina entered, waving a folded hand fan dramatically in front of his face.
"Alright, folks, heads up — heater's still busted, and the AC's dead. Welcome to the sauna of higher learning."
Groans rose around the room.
"Alright guys, I don't expect any of you to work in these conditions." he said, then added, "I'm not even gonna pretend I'll be teaching today. We're watching a documentary. Something about plant genetics. Nobody pass out, and I'll call it a win."
He reached for the TV remote, muttering about tropical humidity and tenure not being worth this.
Kal leaned toward Alice, voice conspiratorial. "I mean, I did notice it was hot in here — but I thought that was just you."
Alice's eyes widened before she laughed again, covering her mouth with one hand.
"Wow," she said, her voice barely audible over the chatter. "Who are you and what have you done with Kal Kent?"
He shrugged. "Maybe I decided I was tired of holding back."
As the documentary droned on, neither of them paid it much attention. They sat closer than usual — shoulders brushing, feet knocking gently beneath the table. They leaned in close, exchanging quiet jokes about the overly dramatic narration and the oddly animated plants. At one point, Alice nudged him and whispered that one of the vines looked like it was trying to dance. Kal smiled, eyes warm.
"Can you blame it?" he said. "I'd dance too, if you were watching."
Alice leaned close, smirking. "I still can't believe you're being this talkative."
Kal looked at her. "I think I just stopped being afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
He smiled. "Of this." He motioned between them with a soft shrug. "You. Me. Us."
Alice blinked slowly, something warm and wondering blooming in her eyes.
The heat in the room was oppressive — but not nearly as overwhelming as the electricity between them.
And for the first time, Kal wasn't running from it.
Alice hadn't expected today to feel so different.
She'd expected him to keep his usual distance — to give her that same quiet smile, say a sentence or two before retreating into whatever storm always seemed to stir behind his blue eyes. She'd grown used to it, even if it left her aching some days.
Because she knew he liked her. She'd felt it in the way his gaze lingered, in the gentleness of his voice when he did speak to her. She'd seen it too, in flashes — those rare glimmers of something soft and yearning behind his calm exterior. But there had always been a wall.
Some invisible chain of hesitation he wouldn't let go of.
Until now.
Today… was different.
He came to her with light in his eyes and warmth in his voice. There was no distance in him. No tension, no fear. He was just there — beside her, choosing her, and not pulling away.
Alice's heart fluttered as she sat with him, their knees almost touching beneath the desk. They whispered back and forth, their heads leaned close, brushing shoulders every so often. The sound of the documentary played on in the background, but she barely noticed it.
She was too caught up in the way Kal's eyes crinkled when he smiled. In the way his voice dipped low when he teased her about the vines plotting world domination. In the way she could feel his attention — like sunlight — fully, completely on her.
Something had changed in him. Whatever conflict had lived inside Kal, it was gone now.
And in its place…
He looked at her like he knew. Like he'd made a decision. Like she wasn't just a passing thought, or a curious connection.
She was what he wanted.
Alice leaned in, saying something playful, but it trailed off the moment their eyes met. The words slipped from her mind.
Kal's smile faded, but not from discomfort. His gaze had gone still — deep, searching, reverent.
She didn't move. Neither of them did. The room around them might as well have disappeared. The heat pressed around them, thick and slow, but neither noticed.
They just… looked.
And in that silence, something bloomed — tender and bright and terrifying in its honesty.
The air between them pulsed with it. A tension soft as breath and sharp as hope.
Alice swallowed, heart fluttering like a trapped bird in her chest.
He wasn't afraid anymore.
And neither was she.
She looked at him like he was something precious. Like she'd been waiting for this moment just as long as he had.
Her body angled toward his, small and sure, as if drawn by gravity alone.
And then —
She started to lean in.
Kal's heart skipped. No — it detonated.
Alice's eyes fluttered closed. Her lashes kissed her cheeks. Her lips, soft and parted, moved fractionally closer.
Her hand, featherlight, came to rest on his thigh.
His brain stopped. Just completely stopped.
Every sound in the classroom dropped away. His skin burned beneath her touch.
His senses turned razor-sharp, hyper-focused: the sweltering heat baking against his skin, the exact curve of her lips, the subtle floral scent of her hair.
His pulse thundered in his ears.
But suddenly, something changed.
The heat wasn't just around him anymore. It was in him. Pressing behind his eyes, a dull throb at first… then sharper. Sharper still.
A pressure built, blinding and unbearable, like fire gathering in his skull.
His breath caught.
No— no no no—
"Ah—sorry—my eyes—" he muttered, pulling back too fast, hands flying to his face. The pain was too much. It was searing. Radiating. Like something wanted out.
Alice's eyes opened slowly. Confused.
Then hurt.
He saw it, even through the blur of his own panic. That second where her hope twisted, folded in on itself. Her hand dropped from his leg.
Suddenly,
The heat that had been building up inside his head, scorching him from the inside, seemed to erupt out of him like a volcano. Invisible rays of searing heat scorched out of his eyes.
The whiteboard at the front of the class burst into flames.
Gasps. Screams. Chairs scraping against tile.
Kal lurched back, his vision streaked with red and light and fire. He stumbled up from his seat, heart racing.
[Heat Vision I Unlocked]
A focused emission of solar energy through the ocular channels. Invisible to the naked eye, Heat Vision delivers intense thermal force capable of igniting, melting, or cutting through most materials.
[+15XP]
Kal squeezed his eyes shut. His head pulsed like it would split apart. He kept them shut, afraid of what might happen if he opened them again.
Another system notification followed in quick succession.
[Quest Complete: "Last Son of Krypton"
Objective: Awaken your dormant Kryptonian abilities. Exposure to sunlight will trigger power unlocks. Moments of emotional intensity, and survival-based stress may cause faster awakening.]
[+100XP]
But Kal barely even noticed it, his focus on trying to control his newly-activated power. He couldn't control the searing heat in his eyes. Even now he felt it building up again, threatening to burst out of his head into a room filled with people. He couldn't allow that to happen.
No he wouldn't allow that to happen.
Not here. Not with her.
"Everyone out! Move, move!" the teacher yelled, already herding students toward the door. The fire alarm blared.
"Kal?!" Alice's voice.
He backed away.
"Don't—don't come closer."
He turned, blindly pushing past fleeing students, trying not to crash into anyone. His eyes stung with pain, heat leaking from behind clenched lids. He couldn't stop it.
He had to go.
And so he did.
Out the side door, his hands still clamped over his eyes, his vision leaking heat with every staggered step.
He ducked behind the gym building, heart racing, and when he was sure no one could see—
He took off.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The school courtyard buzzed with sirens and scattering students. Smoke curled from the windows of Room 2.4.
Alice stood apart from the crowd, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her jaw clenched.
She scanned the crowd again, searching. Expecting to see Kal at the edge somewhere. Alone. Avoiding everyone. Maybe waiting for her.
But he wasn't there.
She checked the field. The parking lot. Behind the trees. Nothing.
Just gone.
A knot formed low in her chest.
It didn't make sense — one second, they'd been… close. Closer than ever.
And the next, he'd flinched like she'd burned him. Like the idea of kissing her was painful. Then he ran. Not even a word. Not even a glance back.
Now he was just… gone. And a painful twist in her ribs was all that he had left behind.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kal soared above the treetops, eyes clenched shut, hands pressed to his face as if he could hold the burning power inside. Heat surged behind his eyes like pressure from a dam about to burst. The world below was a blur of forest and shadow, and even the clouds seemed too close.
Despite the pain, and disorienting vision, he still managed to land fairly smoothly in the clearing near the hidden pod, thankful for completing so many trials. The heat vision flared again, carving twin lines of scorched earth before he could twist his head away. He growled in frustration, sweat slicking his brow — though not from exertion. It felt like his skull was trying to boil from the inside.
All evening, he fought for control.
Hour after hour, he focused on breathing, on stillness, on control. He aimed at tree stumps and fallen logs, with each flare of heat focusing on controlling the power, directing it. And each flare became less wild, less destructive.
By the time the sun dipped behind the horizon, the power was no longer a wildfire. It was more like a blazing star, stable, but able to explode with a solar flare at any time. Still dangerous, still raw, but no longer beyond his grip.
His shirt was singed, the air dry and smelling of scorched earth. But at least he had control.
Kal noticed immediately when Alice wasn't in Biology the next day.
His eyes flicked to the door more times than he could count, each second stretching longer than it should. Maybe she wasn't at school today. Maybe she was unwell. But something in him — something deeper than logic — knew that wasn't true.
So when he spotted her in the hallway between classes, perfectly fine, laughing softly with Rosalie and Emmett as if nothing had happened, his heart dropped. She passed him without a glance, without a smile, without a single flicker of recognition.
As if he didn't exist.
Since they'd met, Alice had always greeted him — always. A knowing smirk, a playful wave, a spark in her eyes. But now… nothing.
Kal didn't understand. His stomach twisted with a cold, creeping anxiety he couldn't shake.
Later, as the school day ended and students poured out into the car park, he spotted her again. She was standing by the Cullens' sleek black car, arms folded. Once more, she ignored him completely.
Still, something in him refused to let it go.
Before he knew what he was doing, Kal started walking toward her.
The Cullens noticed before she did. Emmett nudged her. Rosalie said something under her breath. Jasper stared warily.
Alice turned.
Her face froze the moment she saw him. A flicker of pain crossed her eyes — but then it vanished, replaced by an eerie blankness.
"I'll walk," she said, voice brittle. "Go without me."
"Alice—" Kal started, but she had already turned and was walking away, straight toward the trees at the edge of the parking lot.
Panic flared in his chest.
He followed.
The other Cullens watched him follow after her. Emmett stared him down. He didn't care, he just kept chasing after Alice.
"Alice, wait! Please, can we just talk?"
"Leave me alone, Kal!" she shouted, her voice sharp like shattering glass. But she didn't stop. She kept walking, faster now, into the forest.
He kept following. He couldn't let her go. Not like this.
"I just want to talk!"
She stopped.
Then spun around so fast he nearly collided with her. Her fists were clenched, her amber eyes blazing like molten gold.
"Oh, now you want to talk?" Her voice was sharp, cutting through the forest silence like a blade. "What is there to talk about, Kal?"
Her tone was scathing, but underneath it, something trembled.
"That day, on the field trip, you act like you like me — really like me. You look at me like I'm the only one in the room. You make me feel seen. Wanted." She took a step forward, her voice rising, every word hitting like a blow. "And then the next day, you disappear. You won't even look at me in class. You ignore me like I'm some mistake you regret."
Kal's breath caught in his throat. He tried to speak, but the words lodged in his chest.
"You smile, you flirt, you lean in like you mean it—and then you vanish! You pull me in and then push me away again, and again, and again."
Her voice shook now, furious and raw, but beneath the anger… was something breaking.
"Do you even realise what that does to someone? Do you even care?"
Her hands were shaking.
"You made me feel like there was something here — something real — and then you left me in the dark."
Kal's hands curled into fists at his sides, pain swelling behind his ribs.
"I'm not blind, Kal," she said, quieter now but no less intense. "I know you feel it too. I saw it. I felt it. You were right there with me — and then…"
Her eyes glistened. Her breath caught. The next words came out like a whisper wrapped in glass.
"And then I tried to kiss you, and you flinched. Like I was some monster."
Kal's eyes widened. He stepped forward instinctively, but she backed away.
Her voice cracked completely now, trembling like her frame.
"And maybe I am," she choked, "but you didn't even give me the chance to explain. You didn't ask. You just left. Like I didn't matter at all."
Each word was a dagger, and Kal could feel them cutting deeper and deeper into him. Guilt roared inside his chest, louder than any thunder, hot and hollow and cruel.
She tried to hold it together, shoulders squared, jaw clenched — but it was too much.
Then finally, barely audible,
"You're breaking my heart, Kal,"
Her knees buckled.
And in a single, shattering second, Alice collapsed.
She hit the forest floor like a marionette with its strings cut, hands covering her face, her small frame wracked with sobs that tore out of her like they'd been locked away for centuries.
And Kal felt like a million needles pricked at his heart.
The air vanished from his lungs. He rushed to her, knees hitting the dirt before he realised he'd moved. All his strength, all his power — it meant nothing in this moment. He would've faced a hundred Kryptonite-wielding wolves for her, a thousand, a hundred thousand. And yet… it was him who had caused this. Him who'd made her cry like this. Him who had walked away from the one person who had looked at him like he wasn't a stranger in this world.
He gathered her into his arms without thinking, without caring about anything else anymore. His large form draped around her small one.
Her sobs shook against his chest, and he clung to her like she was gravity itself.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, broken. "I'm so sorry, Alice. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just… I didn't know how to deal with what I was feeling. I thought pushing you away would protect you — or maybe protect me. But I was wrong."
She didn't respond, not yet — but she didn't pull away either.
"I was stupid. I was scared." His voice cracked. "But I never stopped thinking about you. You're in my thoughts every time I wake up, every time I close my eyes. You mean more to me than anything else in this world, and I—"
He took a breath.
"The truth is… I love you."
She went still.
"I love you," he said again, holding her tighter. "I'm in love with you. And I wasn't ready for it. But I am now."
Slowly, her fingers curled against his chest. She lifted her head, teary eyes meeting his.
"I love you too." she whispered.
And then they fell into each other, finally, fully.
Not as two confused souls caught in a mess of emotions and fear, but as something whole.
Together.
But after a long moment, Alice pulled back slightly, anxiety returning to her face.
His eyes found hers, they were nervous, scared. Afraid of rejection. Worried that everything she had just gained was about to be ripped away from her.
"Kal… we can't do this. There's something I need to tell you."
He just kept her in his embrace.
"I already know."
Her brows drew together. "What do you mean?"
"I already know," he said simply, with a calm certainty that cut through the forest air like light. "I know you're a vampire."
Alice froze completely, stunned.
"I've known for a while," he continued. Then he gazed deeply into her eyes, "And I don't care. I love you."
She stared at him — motionless, speechless — until the fear finally crumbled. Her arms wrapped around him, tighter than ever, clinging to him as if letting go would break the world.
For minutes they stayed like that. At peace. Whole.
Then, finally, Kal drew back.
"Actually… there's something I need to tell you too."
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The interior of the pod hummed softly with alien energy. Light filtered from the crystalline consoles. In the center of it all, the holographic form of Jor-El materialised, tall and regal, composed of flickering light.
Alice stood beside Kal, wide-eyed.
"Jor-El," Kal said, "this is Alice."
The AI glanced at Kal — eyes questioning — then turned to regard her.
"Greetings."
Kal took a breath, looking to Alice, then back to his father.
"Alice, this… is my father."
Alice blinked.
"Your… father?"
Kal nodded at her before looking at Jor-El.
"Tell her." Kal said.
"Tell her what?" the hologram asked.
"Everything."
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
While one truth rose from the forest floor like smoke, elsewhere, in the silence between waves, another remained buried—guarded by doctrine and cloaked in fog.
The Port Angeles docks were near silent at this hour. Sea mist coiled between rusted containers and rotting beams. The old pier groaned softly with the rhythm of the tide, lonely in its vigil.
A man stood at the edge of the dock, partially hidden beneath the overhang of a decaying warehouse roof. Dressed in muted blacks and storm-gray, he looked more like a shadow than a person — trained, methodical, and deeply alert.
He pressed a gloved thumb to a secure satellite phone. It clicked once, then connected.
"Cardinal."
He listened, face unreadable.
"I've been following the incident reports. Cross-referencing witness statements in Port Angeles. At least three separate rescues — most of them he displayed no excessive abilities."
He pulled a plastic sleeve from his coat and examined its contents under the moonlight — a blurry photo, distorted by heat shimmer and altitude. A human shape — maybe — plummeting through the cloud cover, half-glowing as it breached the atmosphere.
"This is from January third. Over Forks. Best the satellites could do. Resolution's garbage, but the timing lines up. He's real."
His voice dropped, lower, quieter.
"And I think he's the same one who saved that guy in the alley. Same profile, same pattern. Doesn't want attention. Doesn't leave names. But he intervenes."
Another pause. The water lapped gently below.
"There's something else," he said, voice shifting — more focused. "A body turned up three days ago. Waylon Forge. Locals are calling it an animal attack. They always do."
He withdrew a manila envelope and slid a photo halfway out — just enough to see blood, teeth marks, the pallor of drained skin.
"It was a feeding. I've seen them before. No cleanup, no glamour. Just hunger. Classic."
He returned the photo without looking at it again.
"Drifters, I think. They're just moving through. Not careful, but not staying long. Whatever they're doing, they're not looking for the same thing we are."
The breeze picked up. He turned slightly, eyes scanning the distant shoreline, thoughtful.
"No… this other one, the one saving people — he's different. They don't know what he is. Hell, I don't know. But the signs are adding up."
"Every time, they say the same thing. He doesn't speak. Just… appears. Then vanishes. Except once. He slipped up — stopped a car. In front of witnesses."
He listened to the man over the phone for a second.
"Six. Two kids, but the adults gave a consistent description."
He flipped open a weathered notebook and read aloud.
"'Tall. Black hair. Looked twenty, maybe older. Blue eyes. Moved like something out of a dream.'"
He paused, lowering the notebook.
"Cardinal… the ones at the car crash… they said he flew."
A long beat. He looked down at the satellite photo again, the faint silhouette of something falling like a star.
Then, softer:
"…Cardinal. Is it true?"
His throat worked once, words suddenly fragile.
"Am I looking for… an angel?"
Silence answered him.
Then not long after. Click. The line went dead.
He stood there for a moment, just a man alone with the sea.
Then he pocketed the phone, turned, and melted into the fog — silent, swift, and watchful.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Okay, that was actually the last one before I lock in. Wanted to get the arc over before I stopped. Also, people complaining about the romance, I'd like to remind you you're reading a Twilight fanfic.
Anyway, as always, I hope you enjoyed the chapter.