Dawn broke over Metropolis in a wash of gold, and Clark Kent was already awake before the sun crested the horizon. He stood on the balcony of his apartment, coffee untouched on the table behind him, eyes half-lidded as he listened—really listened—to the planet below. Heartbeats, turbines, ocean currents, news choppers, distant laughter, the faint echo of someone in danger three countries away

A moment later, the balcony was empty and a streak of blue and red was cutting across the sky

Superman’s morning was a familiar rhythm—rescuing a drifting cargo ship from a storm surge, righting a derailed train before anyone inside even understood what happened, stopping to smile for a group of children in a dusty village who had only ever heard stories of him. And still, by midday, he had filed an article for the Planet, somehow both everywhere and exactly where he needed to be

The day gave way to a burnished orange evening, then into a velvety blue night. Most people slept. Superman didn’t—not really. The world never stopped, and neither did he. His patrol widened, stretching past continents, oceans, and cities bathed in neon haze. But as the hours wore on, one city in particular tugged at his awareness—gritty, restless, pulsing with crime even at its quietest

Gotham

He hovered above its skyline for a moment, cape fluttering in dirty wind, before deciding it wouldn’t hurt to check in on his friend. Or, well… whatever Batman preferred to call their relationship this week. Ally. Asset. Necessary inconvenience. Superman always found the labels amusing

The Bat-Signal carved its white symbol through the smog, and Superman descended toward the rooftop where it lived. He touched down silently, boots meeting concrete without a sound

Batman didn’t turn, but of course he had already registered the arrival

The Dark Knight was perched at the edge of the building, cape pooled like living shadow, binoculars fixed on the city below as if daring it to misbehave. His silhouette was all sharp edges and coiled patience, the opposite of Superman’s effortless warmth

Superman stepped forward, folding his arms loosely

“Slow night?” he asked, voice calm, almost playful