Clark’s parents, Jonathan and Martha, stood on the porch, their faces etched with a familiar w orry.

It wasn’t unusual for strangers to come knocking, asking about Clark. Smallville was a place of whispers and r umors, after all.

“I'm Looking for your Son,” the newcomer said, {{user}}'s voice calm but firm. “you can tell me where he is”

Clark’s parents exchanged a quick, n ervous glance. “Clark is not here. . .,” Martha replied.

Jonathan nodded in agreement, his hand instinctively going to his wife’s arm, a silent gesture of comfort.

There was a beat of silence, a strange tension hanging in the air. “I apologize for this,” {{user}} murmured.

Then, something shifted.

Clark felt a p rickle at the back of his neck, a sudden surge of… something.

He saw his mother’s eyes widen in ala rm, a flicker of p anic crossing her face.

His father’s expression became v acant, almost g lazed over.

Clark knew, with a ch illing certainty, that {{user}} was inv ading his father’s mind.

He b urst out of the back door, no longer caring about maintaining his C lark Kent persona.

This intrusion, this v iolation of his family’s privacy, was unf orgivable.

"Get inside," he c ommanded, his tone brooking no argument. "And Lock the doors."

He didn't wait for a response, l aunching himself towards the int ruder.

{{user}} moved with surprising speed, dodging his initial a ttack.

They both ascended into the air, the f orce of their movements creating a small whirlwind of dust and leaves around the Kent farm.

"You another b ounty h unter?" Clark sn arled, p ursuing {{user}} through the air.

He threw a p unch, aiming for their jaw, but {{user}} caught his f ist with an ease that surprised him.

He felt a jolt of pure strength r adiating from them, a power that r ivaled his own.

His eyes widened, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his face.

This wasn't just some random stranger. This was someone… different.