Superman’s jaw tightened. "That's… that's a fragment of Kryptonian birthing matrix. It shouldn't exist."
La Catrina's voice echoed in my memory: Ghosts just want to be remembered. Mis aventuras con Superman 2x3
"Hello, Jimmy," said Not-Superman. "I am Kal-El 2.0. The upgrade. The definitive edition. I have been sent to correct a small error: your continued breathing." Superman’s jaw tightened
Lois turned the phone around. On the screen was a security photo of a vault—empty except for a single item tag that read: "Hello, Jimmy," said Not-Superman
I held up my phone. I'd recorded the clone's entire monologue earlier. And on the screen, I played a video of the real Superman—not fighting, but helping an old lady cross the street. Giving a kid his cape to use as a blanket. Eating a hot dog with mustard on his nose and laughing.
"SHUT UP!" the clone screamed, his perfect face cracking like porcelain.
That’s when the window exploded.