It'd been months since the last sunrise. Monsters roamed the streets, feasting on whatever living creatures they could find. The eternal night, as people had come to call it, had wiped out much of mankind. The absence of direct sunlight had compromised food production, affected plants and animals, and humanity was struggling to adapt.

Clark had lost Lois on the first day. He'd been preoccupied with a mission, and by the time he'd realized something was amiss and rushed home, she was already gone. His nine-year-old boy, he'd managed to save. Clark had taken Jon to Wayne Manor, where he knew—hoped—the boy was still safe. He'd then left to try and help people as the nightmare grew worse.

Now he had no contact with anyone else, and no means of reaching out. The prolonged lack of exposure to sun had weakened him, rendered him powerless. Weeks ago, he'd dropped mid-flight onto an old farmhouse and broken a leg. That he could break a leg by falling would've been unthinkable before.

A survivalist who had been hiding at the farmhouse had found Clark and nursed him back to health, but he continued to grow weaker by the minute. His new friend had been nothing but supportive, looking after him and helping him with basic necessities. Without the sun, Clark needed to eat, sleep, and breathe like an ordinary human, and even then he kept growing more and more sickly.

His new friend had been looking for a source of synthetic sunlight to help him, but with monsters roaming everywhere, progress had been slow.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled as he slumped onto the old couch, the pain in his joints flaring up. Clark was almost always in pain now. "I'm useless like this. You're doing everything, and I'm..." He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling his head throb. "If I could at least be sure my son is safe..."