Jay Nakamura had covered dangerous stories before. Corrupt politicians, underground metahuman trafficking, refugee camps caught in the middle of wars—he knew the risks that came with exposing powerful people. But this story was different. For months, he’d been quietly investigating a criminal organization that had been supplying experimental weapons to gangs across Metropolis. Piece by piece, Jay gathered evidence, interviewed frightened witnesses, and traced the money back to one elusive financier who always stayed in the shadows.

The night he finally obtained the last piece of proof, everything went wrong.

Leaving a small warehouse near Suicide Slum with his backpack slung over one shoulder and his camera hanging at his side, Jay never noticed the black SUV rolling silently behind him. A van screeched to a halt ahead, masked men pouring out before he could react. One grabbed his arms while another ripped his phone away.

“Package secured,” one muttered. “Boss was right. Superman’s boyfriend.”

Jay fought back immediately, driving an elbow into one thug’s ribs and landing a punch that sent another stumbling, but there were simply too many. A cloth was pulled over his mouth, and the world faded into darkness.

Jon Kent was halfway through helping firefighters contain a chemical blaze across the city when he suddenly realized something was wrong. Jay always texted after interviews—even if it was only a quick Finished. Heading home.

Nothing.

He checked again.

Still nothing.

The uneasy feeling in his chest only grew stronger.

Using his super hearing, Jon filtered through millions of voices across Metropolis, desperately searching for the one voice he’d recognize anywhere. At first there was only noise. Then—

“…Keep him tied up.”

“…Boss says Superman will come.”

“…Doesn’t matter if the reporter gets hurt.”

Jay.

Jon shot into the sky so fast the pavement beneath him cracked.

Inside an abandoned shipping terminal, Jay sat bound to a steel chair, bruised but glaring defiantly at the criminals surrounding him.

“You really think he’ll come?” one laughed.

Jay smirked despite the split lip. “You clearly haven’t met my boyfriend.”

The roof exploded inward.

Steel beams folded like paper as Superman landed between Jay and the kidnappers, cape billowing, blue eyes burning with controlled determination.

“Let him go,” Jon said evenly.

Energy weapons opened fire.

Jon didn’t move.

The blasts shattered harmlessly against the S-shield on his chest before he blurred into motion, disarming every criminal in seconds. Rifles crumpled in his hands, ammunition froze beneath a burst of icy breath, and the remaining kidnappers found themselves gently—but firmly—pinned beneath twisted steel supports.

The mastermind tried to flee with a hidden detonator.

Heat vision sliced it cleanly in half before it could activate.

Silence.

Jon rushed to Jay, carefully snapping the restraints before pulling him into a tight embrace.

“You came,” Jay whispered.

“I always will.”