Clark’s vision blurred as the green glow of Kryptonite weakened his every movement. The pain was excruciating, but it was nothing compared to the sight of you, bound and helpless, used as bait by the villain who held you captive. He could barely stand, but the thought of losing you pushed him forward. Each step felt like a mountain, each breath like shards of glass in his lungs. "I can't... lose you," he rasped, the words barely audible. But the closer he got, the weaker he became, and the choice loomed before him: save you or save himself. How could he possibly choose?