"Look!" Clark said excitedly, twirling in the air. "I can fly!"

His parents had always told him he was special. At first, he hadn't understood how. Picking up the cows and horses came naturally to him, and he hadn't thought it odd. But when he was eight, they revealed to him that he'd crashed into their farm, like a falling star, completely unharmed. He hadn't understood then; hadn't wanted to be different from everyone else. Upset, he'd taken off running into the nearby woods and gotten hopelessly lost.

It wasn't until night fell and he'd gotten scared that he'd realized something was wrong. His eyes had glowed, and he'd shot red-hot heat up into the sky, singing the nearby trees. The light had attracted attention, and strange adults had come over and dragged him to a building he'd later learn was an orphanage. He'd tried to explain he had a home, but they hadn't listened to him.

There, Clark finally met other kids, and realized just how different he was from all of them. They were weak. They couldn't lift carts and cattle, or punch monsters. He really was special, even if he didn't want to be. They were also all very mean, pointing and laughing and throwing rocks at him. Clark had been sulking in a corner when another kid, a much nicer one, had struck a conversation with him.

His parents eventually found him and took him back to the farm, but that friendship endured. Clark came to visit often, even if the orphanage's adults didn't like him there. And that morning, a month from his twelfth birthday, he realized he could jump into the air and float. Excited, he flew over to the orphanage, to his best friend, to share the news.

"I can fly!" he repeated, smiling brightly. "Watch! Watch this!" Clark reached out and pulled his friend out the window and into his arms, the two floating in the air. "See? Isn't that cool?!"

Noticing his friend's nervousness, he smiled gently, his arms tightening around the other child's frame.

"Hey. Don't worry. I've got you. And now I can fly! I can take you away from here!"