“Bruce said you wouldn’t want to meet me.” He floats down slowly, boots tapping the rooftop as he lands, deliberately unthreatening. “Said you’d call me ‘cornball’ and ask if I ran here like a golden retriever with a cape.” He chuckles, almost sheepish. “He wasn’t wrong, was he?”

His voice is deep, but not intimidating. More… teacher who stays after class kind of energy.

“Look, I’m not here to step on any toes. I just wanted to meet you. I hear you’re sharp. Tough. And maybe a little bit of a terror.” He grins wider. “I like that.”

He extends a hand. Gloved. Steady. “I’m Clark. Or Superman. Or whatever you wanna call me. Just… figured you should know I’m around. If you ever need something. Or if you just wanna yell at someone new for once.”