Manga World: Extracting Superman's Power

"But your age?"

Clark looked at Azuma Shoyo, who was clearly much younger than him.

If Azuma was one of the survivors who escaped Krypton, as he claimed, shouldn't he be around the same age as Clark—or even older? Why did he look like he was in his teens instead?

"Clark, I'm not like you," Azuma said. "You were lucky—your journey to this planet was smooth. My luck wasn't as good. I was seven when I fled Krypton—older than you were at the time."

"But after escaping, my ship accidentally entered a pocket dimension. I was trapped there for a long time. The flow of time in that dimension was different from the main universe. So by the time I reached Earth, you'd already been living here for years."

"Oh, I get it!"

Clark's face lit up with understanding.

Back on his ship, his father's AI had taught him a wealth of Kryptonian knowledge. He'd only half-absorbed it at the time, but he could recall it whenever he wanted.

Among that knowledge was a tidbit about certain pocket dimensions where time flowed differently from the main universe. When Azuma mentioned it, Clark connected the dots, and it clicked.

"I only realized recently, after seeing the news, that I wasn't the only Kryptonian to make it here," Azuma continued.

Bullshit!

He was totally making it up on the fly.

But Clark bought it hook, line, and sinker.

Why?

Because Azuma genuinely had Kryptonian blood and all the abilities that came with it.

After all…

Those powers were copied straight from Clark himself.

With that foundation, Clark had no reason to doubt Azuma's story—especially since it echoed Supergirl's origin, making it even more believable.

…

Once Clark confirmed Azuma was a fellow Kryptonian, he eagerly pulled him into a long chat.

Clark started by recounting how he'd been adopted by the Kents after arriving on Earth, growing up in Smallville, and only learning in recent years that he wasn't their biological son.

Azuma nodded along, saying his story was similar—he'd been adopted too. But he'd arrived on Earth at an older age, so he always remembered his origins. Sadly, his adoptive parents had passed away a couple of years ago.

Hearing about Azuma's loss, Clark offered a few words of comfort, feeling a pang of empathy. His own adoptive father had died years ago, after all.

For years, he'd lived according to the path his father set for him, believing humanity wasn't ready to accept his existence. Yet in just a few days, he'd uncovered his heritage and met a fellow Kryptonian.

It made Clark downright giddy.

"Azuma, what are your plans now?" Clark asked.

He genuinely hoped to bond with his fellow Kryptonian. They might be the last two of their kind in the universe.

"Since I've confirmed you're a Kryptonian too, I'll head back to Metropolis next. What about you? Want to come live there? You could find a job too," Azuma suggested.

"No, I need to stay here for a while. I've been away from home for almost a year, and my mom's getting older. I should spend some time with her," Clark replied, declining the offer.

"Fair enough. If you ever feel like coming over, just let me know—or drop by yourself. For us, the distance is a matter of minutes," Azuma said casually.

It was just a throwaway line, really. Playing the part of the second Kryptonian on Earth, he had to act friendly.

Plus…

Azuma was counting on General Zod showing up so he and Clark could team up to take on the big boss!

If he had to face Zod's army of Kryptonian warriors alone, he'd be toast.

In the movie, Clark won thanks to plot armor. Without it, Zod and his crew could've swarmed him and ended it. But the story needed Clark to win, so they came at him one or two at a time, giving him the chance to take them out individually.

After chatting a bit more, they returned to Smallville.

Clark said he was heading home to check in and invited Azuma to stop by.

"You go ahead. I'll swing by later," Azuma replied.

"Cool, see you then," Clark said with a nod. Eager to get home, he grabbed his backpack and headed off without further ado.

Watching Clark walk away, Azuma smirked.

Then he looked up at the sky.

Boom!

A milky-white sonic cloud bloomed overhead as Azuma shot out of the atmosphere at Mach 200 in an instant.

In space…

Basking in sunlight, Azuma glanced at the moon. His speed surged as he rocketed toward it.

Mach 250!

Mach 300!

Mach 400!

Soon, he was pushing nearly Mach 500.

At 170 kilometers per second, even the 380,000-kilometer distance between Earth and the moon took just over half an hour. He touched down on the lunar surface.

"One small step for me, one giant leap for mankind," Azuma thought, the famous phrase popping into his head. America's moon landing had been a global sensation back in the day.

Decades later, though, evidence piled up proving it was all a staged show for the world to see.

"Too bad I crossed over too early to see my homeland's real moon landing," Azuma mused, glancing at the footprint he'd left behind.

"But I guess I've beaten them to it in my own way."

He chuckled, then started wandering around the moon.

Here and there, poking around.

The moon was barren, but Azuma found it fascinating.

Probably the novelty of it all.

After a while, he'd seen enough. He settled into a comfy-looking crater, sat down, and gazed at the sun—bigger and unobstructed up here. With no atmosphere to filter it, he soaked in the raw solar radiation, reveling in the ecstatic hum of every cell in his body.