Pete's House
The silence in the room weighed like an invisible prison. The dim light from the lamp cast long shadows on the walls. The unmade bed, the books scattered on the floor, the jacket hanging on the chair—everything felt suffocating.
Pete sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, legs bent, head down.
'I should've lost that race.'
The thought hammered like a nail driven into his mind.
'If I'd done what Dante wanted… if I'd just slipped on that last turn… he'd still be alive.'
His chest tightened. The air felt too heavy to breathe.
'But no. I had to prove I'm good. That I could be more than just Clark's friend. More than a sidekick in this town where everything revolves around him.'
His fingers gripped his hair tightly.
'My pride killed Dante.'
He closed his eyes, but the image of the burning workshop lingered, too vivid to ignore.
'That fire… it wasn't an accident. Someone wanted him dead.'
His heart raced.
'And what if that someone comes after me now?'
His stomach churned at the thought.
'Am I next? My parents? Are they in danger because of me?'
He slowly lifted his head, staring at the closed door.
The house was silent. But what if it wasn't?
What if someone was already out there? Waiting?
A shiver ran up his spine.
'I need to get out of this. I need to find a way to fix it before it's too late.'
Fear consumed every thought.
'But what if it's already too late?'
The idea made him squeeze his eyes shut, trying to push it away. But the weight of guilt was stronger.
Dante was dead.
And it all started with him.
With his damned need to win.
With a single moment of selfishness.
His chest rose and fell in an unsteady breath.
'I don't know what to do.'
His hands trembled. His whole body felt fragile.
'But I know that if I do nothing, I might be next.'
The guilt burned like embers inside him.
And deep down, maybe he deserved it.
---
The sound of an engine approaching made Pete lift his head.
VRUUUM.
The truck.
He'd recognize that sound anywhere.
Clark.
His chest tightened. His stomach flipped.
'He came here?'
Heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway. Each thud against the wooden floor seemed louder than the last.
Pete turned his face to the wall.
The door creaked.
Clark stepped in.
The smell of smoke and earth still clung to him. His boots carried traces of road dust. His eyes scanned the room, taking in every detail.
Pete couldn't meet his gaze.
"You didn't show up today."
His voice was calm, without judgment. But Pete felt the weight of every word.
His throat went dry.
"Wasn't in the mood."
Clark took another step. His presence filled the space.
"Makes sense."
Pete closed his eyes.
'He knows. He knows I'm broken.'
The mattress sank as Clark sat on the edge of the bed. Silence settled over the room.
Pete's breathing was uneven.
"You can talk to me."
Pete bit his lip. The knot in his throat tightened with every second.
"I messed everything up, man."
Clark waited.
"I entered that race to prove something. To myself. To everyone."
His fists clenched.
"I wanted to outshine you."
The words came out low, as if it were a crime to say them aloud.
Clark didn't react. He just waited.
Pete let out a short, bitter laugh.
"Some joke, huh? In the end, I just screwed up. Dante's dead. And now, who knows… I might be next."
Clark's gaze hardened.
"You're not alone in this."
Pete finally looked at him. Clark's eyes held something unbreakable. Something that had always been there.
"I'm here, Pete."
Silence filled the space between them.
Pete swallowed hard.
'He wants me to trust him. Like he always has.'
His shoulders relaxed.
Clark stood up.
"If anything happens, you know who to call."
Pete lowered his head.
The thoughts weighed like stones tied to his chest.
'How could I have been jealous of him?'
His breathing faltered.
Clark had always been there. Always.
When no one else looked, when everyone else walked away, he stayed.
And even now, after everything, he was still here.
Pete's eyes stung. The knot in his throat tightened.
He clenched his fists, feeling his fingers tingle.
"I'm an idiot."
Clark didn't respond. He just waited.
Pete slowly lifted his head, his eyes heavy with shame.
"You've always helped me. Always treated me like a brother."
The words came out heavy, almost swallowed by their own weight.
Clark held his gaze steady.
"You are my brother, Pete."
Pete's chest tightened.
The guilt burned. The shame ate at him.
"I wanted to be better than you."
The silence stretched.
Clark crossed his arms.
"Why?"
Pete gave a faint, bitter laugh.
"Because you're the guy everyone looks up to. The one everyone follows."
His eyes drifted to the floor.
"And I… I just wanted that too."
Clark stayed quiet for a moment.
Then he stepped forward.
"You don't need to be better than anyone, Pete."
Pete's eyes met his, full of uncertainty.
"You're already incredible in your own way."
His chest sank.
The guilt suffocated him.
Clark placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I never saw you as a sidekick."
Pete felt the weight of those words.
Shame bubbled inside him.
Clark had always been there. Always.
And now, more than ever, Pete realized how foolish he'd been.
"I don't know how to fix this."
Clark gave his shoulder a light squeeze.
"You start by living."
Pete took a deep breath.
The weight was still there.
But for the first time, it felt bearable.
---
Kawatche Caves
Shadows danced against the stone walls as Diana and Kyla walked slowly through the cave. The damp smell of earth mingled with the distant echo of water dripping somewhere deeper inside.
Kyla ran her fingers over the carvings on the walls, her eyes sharp with attention to every detail.
"These symbols… They're older than anything we've seen before."
Diana watched with interest, her brows slightly furrowed.
"Interesting. Can you read any of it?"
Kyla gave a small smile, tracing her fingers over a sequence of marks.
"I grew up hearing these stories. Every line tells a legend, a warning, or a prophecy."
Diana kept her gaze fixed on the symbols, her mind soaking in every detail.
"So, tell me, what does this cave want to say to us?"
Kyla hesitated for a second before touching a specific set of circular marks.
"This here… It speaks of a warrior from the stars. Someone destined to protect this world."
Diana crossed her arms, pondering.
"Clark."
Kyla nodded.
"He's the Naman. At least, that's what I believe."
Silence hung between them for a moment. Diana continued studying the symbols while Kyla glanced at her, hesitant.
"I wanted to ask you something."
Diana didn't take her eyes off the wall.
"About Clark?"
Kyla took a deep breath, feeling the damp air weigh on her lungs.
"Yes. Your relationship with him… It's different from what I'm used to."
Diana gave a faint smile, her fingers tracing a carved design on the stone.
"You want to know if I mind you getting close to him?"
Kyla briefly looked away before meeting her gaze again.
"Yes."
Diana turned to her, her eyes calm.
"I don't get jealous, Kyla. Clark's free to choose whoever he wants by his side."
Kyla's heart raced for a brief moment.
"That's… unusual."
Diana chuckled softly, turning back to the symbols.
"I'm not like most women."
Kyla watched the calm way Diana spoke.
"You and Chloe… it's strange to me. But if Clark really is the Naman, then maybe he's meant for something bigger… someone bigger."
Diana tilted her head slightly, studying the other woman.
"You believe that. That he has a destiny."
Kyla touched the wall again, her eyes gleaming with conviction.
"I know he does."
Silence stretched between them, filled only by the sound of distant water droplets.
Diana's gaze shifted to another symbol, her eyes narrowing as she recognized it.
"This one…"
Kyla followed her gaze.
"The symbol of balance."
Diana traced its outlines.
"A warrior alone can't hold up a world. He needs allies. Someone by his side."
Kyla took a deep breath.
"So maybe Clark wasn't meant to walk alone."
Diana smiled softly, turning to her.
"Maybe not."
The wind swept through the cave, making the torches flicker.
Kyla felt her chest tighten.
'Clark already has someone by his side. But… is there still room for me?'
Diana took a step forward, her eyes carrying a quiet understanding.
"If you want to stand by him, Kyla, just do it. He doesn't belong to anyone."
Kyla's mind spun with possibilities.
'But what if I'm just another one? Just another person who believes in him?'
She lowered her gaze, feeling the cold stone beneath her fingers.
"I don't know if I want to compete for him."
Diana gave a faint smile.
"Then don't compete. Just follow your heart."
Silence returned.
The torches kept flickering.
And within the cave, amid ancient symbols and buried secrets, two women understood that Clark Kent was more than just a man.
He was a force.
And forces like that never belong to just one person.
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DXD: The Awakening of Phenex
Reincarnation, power, and a burning legacy — don't miss it!