Chapter Text
Jordan drifted back into consciousness, shivering at the cool temperature of the fortress. The sensation was immediately jarring. He wasn’t supposed to feel the cold anymore, was he?
Something must have happened...
He struggled to recall the events that had led him here, but his own memories seemed lost amidst a sea of new ones. Zeta-Rho's horrific scenes were the first into view, lingering with the persistent terror of a vivid nightmare.
Except it wasn't a nightmare, was it?
It had all been real.
Every cry of anguish. Every drop of Kryptonian blood. He could still feel the unbearable heat blistering their skin, the burning pain that tore through them; until, finally, a state of numb shock had set in, sparing them those last moments of hopeless suffering.
Faint cries of apology whistled through his mind as the rest of the consciousnesses began to stir. He could feel their regret, sense how distraught they were. They would never have wanted to relive those memories themselves, let alone force them upon him. Nothing helpful could be learned by witnessing the brutality of Krypton's final moments.
But Zeta hadn’t intended him to learn anything from it. He had wanted to torment him. To weaken him.
And he'd succeeded.
Jordan sat up slowly. The lingering sting of burning caused him to draw his hands into view, eyes confirming what he suspected. Bright red, angry blisters covered his skin. Seeing the evidence of Zeta's effect on him seemed to aggravate the pain even more.
How had this happened? Grandma had said he would have no power over him. Guess even the sophisticated AI had underestimated Zeta-Rho's formidable mind.
He caught the scent of charcoal, and quickly scanned himself. A thick layer of black soot covered him from head to toe. There was no way that had been caused by a vision.
It had to be—
The full brunt of the terrible wildfire came back in a jarring blur of images, settling alongside his last few panicked thoughts.
Oh God, that family.
Had they…?
“There’s no room for error here, not when we’re talking about my son’s life.” Dad's urgent voice echoed around the fortress walls.
Across the chamber, jaw tense, expression sombre, he paced back and forth, his cape swishing behind him. Whoever Dad was talking to was obscured from view, but from the faint glow of holographic imagery, Jordan assumed Grandma must be showing him something. The AI’s pale blue light made Dad's anxious expression even more eerie.
Jordan tried to call out to him, to let him know he was okay, but his throat was surprisingly hoarse. The only sound that came out was a barely detectable croak. He swallowed, trying to return some saliva to his mouth so he could try again.
“Of course, Kal, I’ll ensure the device is one hundred percent safe before it is cleared for use.” Grandma's voice clarified.
“Thank you.” Dad sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Please, just… hurry. You saw what they did to him. We have to get everything out of him. Now.”
Jordan fought against the soreness in his throat to try and speak again.
“Dad!” he managed, the raspy word cutting sharply across the chamber.
Relief washed over Dad's face as their eyes met. In a blast of super speed, he was at Jordan's side helping him up into a sitting position, and brushing sweat and soot-clumped hair out of his face.
“Are you okay?” Dad asked, searching his eyes for reassurance.
Jordan didn’t often see him get this worked up. He must have looked pretty messed up back there at the wildfire. The way he'd felt, there was nothing he could have done to hide it.
But he was okay now. In fact, the blisters were already starting to heal, his strength was returning.
“I'm fine. Really,” Jordan said, emphasising each word.
Dad still didn't look convinced. Jordan managed to swing his legs around. Resting his hand on Dad's shoulder, he lowered two shaky feet to the ground, and after a second to get his footing, he was able to stand. Hopefully that would offer some proof he was recovering.
“Did… are those people…?” he asked, voice trembling.
“They’re fine,” Dad assured him, his gaze softening. “You put the fire out enough for them to get clear. The school bus was a great idea, your brother was able to get them on board and fly them to safety in time.”
Jordan blinked back a pool of relief-fuelled tears, but the feeling didn't last long. He couldn’t help wondering how many other people might have been hurt because his Dad and brother had responded to his cry for help instead of theirs.
He was supposed to help them. And he’d completely and utterly failed. With so many people still in need, he'd let himself be reduced to a useless mess on the floor.
And by what?
The leftovers of a consciousness he was supposed to have defeated four years ago. How was Zeta-Rho managing to overwhelm him like this? How was he able to exert that level of control, even now?
Maybe Jordan really was everything Zeta said.
Maybe he was weak.
Pathetic.
“You did everything you could, Jordan,” Dad said, tugging Jordan's chin up to meet his gaze.
Dad's eyes held a knowing expression, like he understood the guilt on his son's face intimately. Had lived with it all his life.
“We can’t always save everyone,” he added.
“Yeah, believe me, I know,” Jordan said bitterly, tugging himself free and turning away.
That was the whole problem, wasn’t it? The hopelessness that was starting to take hold. The growing sense of inevitability that, one day, he wasn't going to be able to save the world.
“What happened to you back there?” Dad asked.
He took a step back, creating some space. Jordan hesitated, unsure how much to share. He didn’t want to hear another lecture right now. He already knew how royally he'd screwed up. But he couldn't lie anymore, not after everything he'd been through. The nose bleed back at school had been one thing, but this… he’d been completely incapacitated back there. He couldn't ignore how bad it was.
“It was Zeta-Rho,” Jordan confessed. The words seemed to contaminate the air.
Dad's face darkened. “Zeta-Rho? He's still in there?”
Jordan nodded, and Dad cursed under his breath. The sound of it was so rare it unsettled him even more.
“He showed me the end. Of Krypton,” Jordan continued. “He wanted me to see how bad it really was. I… I couldn't shut it off. I saw them all… they were—”
The words caught in his throat. Jordan knew he would never unsee those horrors. Their dying faces would haunt him for the rest of his life.
“You should never have had to see that,” Dad said, the strain in his voice portraying a conflict of empathy and rage.
“It's my own fault,” Jordan continued. “I… I should have told you, I heard him before. Yesterday, at school.”
Dad's eyes widened. He shook his head in dismay. “Jordan, I thought we were past this! You know how dangerous Zeta-Rho is. After everything he did to you... Why would you keep this from me?”
“Because I knew you'd do exactly what I just heard a second ago,” Jordan shot back. “I knew you'd jump straight to erasing all of these consciousnesses from my mind.”
He hated the look his Dad was giving him right now. It was the same look he always gave him when he’d let him down. Jordan wanted to offer a better explanation than he was managing, but how was he supposed to put into words all the intense stuff he’d been feeling? That he was still feeling, maybe even more so now.
How was he supposed to make his Dad understand something he barely understood himself?
“I.. I’m sorry,” he continued. “But I couldn't let that happen. I still can't! The rest of these people, they’re nothing like Zeta-Rho. They’re good people. Some of them are just kids! They deserve a chance to survive. I want to help them.”
“Jordan, you had a seizure. Your body was burning,” Dad pressed. “Your mind isn’t designed to host multiple consciousnesses.”
“So let’s find a way to extract the rest of them in one piece!” Jordan pleaded.
“It’s not that simple—”
“Have you even tried?” Jordan could feel himself losing control of his temper. “Cause it sure seemed like Kryptonian consciousnesses were being transferred back and forth pretty easily back when Tal first showed up in Smallville. I don't get why we can't just move them all into a crystal or something and—”
“I already asked your Grandma to look into that,” Dad said, his voice low and heavy. “I wish it was possible, but these minds… they aren’t full copies. They’re imprints, a kind of memory stamp from the original eradication process. They might feel real, but they only exist in your mind. The actual source data required for transfer is gone.”
Jordan fell silent, mouth hanging in disbelief. He didn't want to believe it. Yet, something about it did make sense to him. It would explain why all of it had felt so personal to him. These people, their memories… they weren't just inside him, they were part of him.
But that didn’t mean they were any less real, did it?
No, there was no way.
After everything he’d seen, everything he’d felt. They were more than just shadows.
Imprint or not, they were still alive. Still thinking, feeling.
“Aren't you the one who says there's always another way?” Jordan pleaded.
His throat cracked under the strain of the last few days and he didn’t even care. He was losing his ability to hold back the tide of emotions threatening to over take his rational side.
“I'm sorry, bud—”
“What, does that only apply to people on Earth? They're your ancestors too, how can you not care what happens to them?”
Pain crossed his Dad's features. Jordan looked away, unable to deal with a side of guilt on top of everything else. He knew he was pushing too far, but he didn't know what else to do. He was desperate.
“Of course I care,” Dad said slowly. “I've lived with the loss of Krypton my whole life—”
“But you were never actually there, were you?” Jordan exclaimed. “You've never seen it, felt it, walked around in their shoes. Not like I have over the last few days. They're just concepts to you—’’
“Jordan, STOP.” Dad cut him off, the warning tone in his voice stifling Jordan’s urge to push on.
They stared at each other, eyes unwavering, jaws set stubbornly. Jordan tried to steady his breathing and bring his anger back in check. He didn’t want this to turn into a full blow fight. But the conflicting emotions on both sides so often seemed intent to clash, like two bulls circling each other, hooves scraping at the ground.
Dad was the first to soften. His shoulders relaxed, empathy filling his blue eyes.
“Look, you've been through a lot these last few days. I can't even imagine how hard this all has been to process. But don’t think for a second that I don’t grieve for the life of every single Kryptonian. They all matter to me, Jordan, more than you know,” Dad rested a hand on his shoulder, locking eyes with him. “But you matter to me more.”
Jordan met his gaze, facing the genuine pain behind Dad's eyes. His fear-fuelled anger subsided. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do with all of this. It's not just the people, it's all of it. Krypton was… I've never felt more at home.”
“Krypton will always be a part of our family,” Dad insisted. “But Earth is your home too.”
“That's just it though. I've always felt out of place here, it's like I'm somewhere I'm not supposed to be, doing something I was never supposed to do. Zeta-Rho… he said I'd never be able to prevent what's coming,” Jordan explained. “What if he's right? I'm already constantly failing—”
“You’re not fail—”
“—yes, I am! Look at what happened back there. Those people could have died because of me. Others probably did! How am I supposed to honor Krypton's legacy? I can't even get the simple stuff right!”
Jordan’s heart raced as he let it all out, realizing some of these thoughts had been eating him up long before his mind had become a way station for lost souls.
Dad’s hands gripped both of his shoulders tightly. “Jordan, you and your brother already are honoring it. It doesn't matter that you make mistakes sometimes. Everyone does. All that matters is that you keep trying, keep doing the best you can with every day you have. That’s how you honor Krypton’s legacy.”
Jordan eyes brimmed with tears. He glanced down at a flicker of movement, and saw Dad's hand pressing firmly against the ‘S’ on his chest.
“That's why we wear this symbol,” he said, his voice softening. “To show the world where we come from. So that we are doing all of this in their name too.”
“But what if it's not enough? All those people just… died. In an instant. And now it's just me and Jon. We’re all that’s left. What if we're not enough for what's coming?”
Dad sighed. “I'll be here to guide you—”
“But you won't always be here, will you?” Jordan shot back, his emotions finding him again. “Not now you have Granddad's heart. One day, you and Mom are going to be dead, and it'll be up to us to make all these huge decisions about the world. What if we don't do enough? What if we make all the wrong choices, and everyone on Earth ends up dead, just like Krypton?”
“That's not going to happen,” Dad said firmly.
“You can't know that!” Jordan shouted.
“Jordan…”
He shook free from Dad’s grip and turned away, shaking his head. His mind was a chaotic jumble of jarring images, jumping back and forth between the ones he never wanted to see again and the ones he couldn't bear the thought of losing. The excited face of the little boy who'd shown him the festival of the twin moons. The joy on the little girl's face back in Kandor, as she snuggled into her father's embrace. The face of every Kryptonian soul whose life had been violently snuffed out in those final moments.
His tears fell freely.
“It just doesn't feel right. Why do I get to live and all of these innocent people have to die?”
Dad softened even more. “Jordan… I know this is hard to accept but they are already dead. They wouldn't want you to give up your life for the sake of their memories.”
The voices inside him murmured in agreement. They’d been silent up til now, seemingly out of respect for his private conversation with Dad. But as soon as the voices flooded in, he realized how hard it had been for them to hear his turmoil out loud. He could feel the guilt they now bore for laying their memories at his feet.
It only made the thought of abandoning them even harder. If they were conscious enough to care about him more than their own continued existence then they really were good people.
But what could he do?
He knew Dad wouldn't lie to him. If there was a way to save them, he would have given it a chance. And they couldn't just let Zeta-Rho continue to overpower him. If he managed to take over completely, there was no doubt he’d use Jordan's body to hurt people.
It's just… how was he supposed to say goodbye?
“I… think I just need some air or something,” Jordan said finally, unable to keep the defeat out of his voice.
“Jordan….” Dad said, reluctantly.
“Please, can you just give me some time? Grandma's tech isn’t even ready yet, is it? Let me take a walk, clear my head. Then you can come find me when it’s ready.”
Dad hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. But if Zeta-Rho…”
“I promise, if I hear him again, I’ll call you.”
Jordan took his Dad’s silence as the closest thing to permission he was going to get. Without another glance, afraid the concerned look on Dad's face would make him change his mind, Jordan lifted into the sky above the fortress and blasted across the choppy waters below.