Chapter 4Chapter 5
Metropolis Bridge
When Lois parked the Jeep, a sense of unease washed over her. She stepped out of the vehicle, staring in growing disbelief at the scene unfolding before her.
The bridge, usually a serene passageway, had become the stage for an absurd spectacle. Superman, a figure of authority and control, seemed trapped in the most bewildering of situations. A swarm of women surrounded him, each playing out dramatic roles in what appeared to be a desperate performance.
Some collapsed theatrically at his feet, feigning exaggerated fainting spells with outstretched arms, hoping to capture his attention. Others clung to the edge of the bridge, shouting threats that they’d jump unless Superman immediately came to their aid.
Superman, visibly distressed, tried to maintain his composure as he managed the situation. Every time he approached one of them to stop her from falling, she would turn on him, throwing herself around his neck with an almost hysterical adoration. Some whispered words of love in his ear; others promised undying devotion. Their gestures were wild, bordering on obsession, as though they were enchanted.
Superman seemed trapped, not by his physical strength but by a situation that was completely out of his control. His movements, usually confident, were hesitant, and his attempts to calm the chaos were failing. The absurdity of the scene, where heroism turned into farce, weighed heavily in the air.
Standing a few meters away, Lois took in the magnitude of the manipulation with growing horror. This wasn’t a simple rescue; it was an orchestrated setup, a social trap designed to exploit Superman's vulnerabilities and tarnish his image.
Lois took a deep breath, determined to pull Superman out of this mess. She stepped into the growing crowd—a mix of curious onlookers, scandal-hungry journalists, and overwhelmed police officers trying to maintain order. The women continued their charade, crying, screaming for help, or threatening to leap off the bridge unless Superman gave them his undivided attention.
Clark did his best to prevent anyone from getting hurt without yielding to their advances, but every move he made seemed to make things worse. The women clung to him with desperate fervor. One had just theatrically fainted in his arms, while another edged dangerously close to the side of the bridge, screaming that she’d jump if Superman didn’t save her.
Recognizing the crude manipulation at play, Lois clenched her fists. She knew these women were mere pawns in a larger scheme, likely orchestrated by someone behind the scenes to destroy Superman’s reputation.
Pushing her way through the crowd, Lois advanced, her voice ringing with authority.
“Enough!” she shouted at the women, her voice cutting through the chaos. “I don’t know what you think you’ll achieve with this behavior, but it’s not going to work.”
The women paused momentarily, some shrinking back at the sight of Lois Lane, the fearless journalist.
“Superman is not your toy,” Lois continued, stepping forward and positioning herself directly in front of Clark, as if to shield him. “He’s not here to cater to your whims or participate in your ridiculous melodrama.”
As Lois dismantled their farce, a voice rang out from the crowd, piercing the relative calm she had imposed.
“Here’s the truth! Superman’s trapped, and it’s his mistress coming to the rescue!” shouted a male voice.
All eyes turned to Ronnie Westfield, the tabloid journalist they’d encountered earlier that morning, who smirked as he stared at Lois.
“Superman, the greatest hero, can’t even manage his mistresses without calling in the Daily Planet’s star reporter for backup!”
A murmur spread through the crowd. Cameras flashed around Lois and Superman, feeding the rumor mill. Ronnie reveled in the attention.
“So, Lois? How does it feel to defend a man who can’t help himself around other women? Is it jealousy driving you here? Or just a need to keep up appearances?” he taunted maliciously.
Lois felt a wave of anger rise within her. Her gaze darkened as she responded, her voice cold and unyielding.
“What I feel is contempt for people like you, Ronnie, who thrive on lies and sleaze to sell rumors. Superman doesn’t need me to defend him, and certainly not from the likes of you. But I have enough integrity not to stay silent when a friend is attacked unfairly.”
Ronnie hesitated, momentarily thrown off by Lois’s piercing glare, but he attempted one last jab.
“Pictures don’t lie, Lois... everyone’s seen them. Superman isn’t as virtuous as you claim, and you know it. How can you—”
Lois closed the distance between them in a firm, deliberate step.
“What I know,” she cut him off, “is that pictures can be staged, doctored, and that people like you make a living off slander. I have no doubt about the truth. Superman is a hero, and neither you nor your sordid stories will bring him down.”
The murmurs in the crowd began to subside. Some nodded in agreement; others remained skeptical. Ronnie shifted uncomfortably under Lois’s unrelenting gaze. Superman, who had remained silent until then, nodded in gratitude, his face filled with appreciation.
Taking advantage of the moment, the police began dispersing the remaining women. Order was gradually restored. Superman turned to Lois, a slight smile tugging at his lips.
“Saved by my wife, as always. Thank you,” he murmured, throwing her a grateful look.
“You’ll never need to thank me for that, Flyboy,” Lois replied with a small smirk. “But next time, try not to end up surrounded by a harem in distress, okay?”
Clark burst out laughing—a sound he hadn’t made since falling into this trap.
Daily Planet
Returning to the Daily Planet after a lunch to recover from the morning’s ordeal, Lois and Clark felt confident they could expose the staged spectacle for what it was. The footage from the bridge would undoubtedly reveal the grotesque theater of lies.
But as they approached the iconic globe of the Planet building, they were met with an unpleasant surprise. A crowd of about forty people had gathered, waving anti-Superman signs.
Switching to journalist mode, Lois and Clark began questioning the protesters.
“Superman has to leave Metropolis!” one shouted.
“He’s lost it; he’s no longer worthy of this city,” added another.
“He preaches morals, but what do we tell our kids when he indulges in debauchery?” another man chimed in.
“And while he’s having his fun, people are dying!” a woman spat angrily.
Clark felt that last remark hit like a slap. Never would he lower himself to such behavior, especially not while lives were at stake. Struggling to maintain his composure, he asked,
“What do you mean? To my knowledge, Superman always prioritizes saving lives.”
The woman replied bitterly, “I know he’s your friend, Mr. Kent, but you should try reasoning with him. He’s completely derailed. This morning, while he was ‘having fun’ at Metropolis Bridge, a family died on Mountain Road. Their car went off the road, and by the time firefighters arrived, they all burned alive.”
The revelation struck Clark like a thunderbolt. A family, dead, while he had been tied up with those women and the press at the bridge... It was as if the woman’s words stabbed directly into his heart. Lois saw the immediate guilt in his eyes and placed a reassuring hand on his arm. She could see how deeply this affected him, even though they both knew it was all part of a larger plot against him.
“That’s not true,” Lois interjected firmly, determined to defend her husband and defuse the situation. “What happened this morning was nothing more than a grotesque setup to tarnish Superman’s reputation. He wasn’t there for ‘fun.’ He was trying to help women who pretended to be in distress.”
The crowd grumbled, some nodding, others unconvinced. Clark, despite everything, felt deeply troubled. The idea that lives had been lost because he wasn’t there tore at his conscience.
“Then where was he?” a man shouted from the crowd. “Superman has responsibilities! If he can’t protect us, he should leave!”
Resentment boiled over, and Lois knew it was useless to argue any further. She grabbed Clark’s arm and whispered,
“Come on, we’re not getting anywhere with these people right now. First, we need to investigate what really happened at Mountain Road.”
Still shaken, Clark nodded slowly. They walked away from the crowd amidst furious glares and scornful shouts.
---
In the Daily Planet’s elevator, Clark seemed distant, struggling with his guilt.
“Clark, this isn’t your fault,” Lois murmured, taking his hand. “It was a trap. They wanted to distract you, and it worked.”
“But if I’d been there... maybe that family would still be alive. I can’t help but feel like I let them down,” he replied, his voice heavy.
Lois sighed, searching for the right words.
"You're doing everything you can. You can't be everywhere at once, even if you're Superman. There are people behind all this, and they're the ones responsible. Not you."
Clark turned his head toward her, acknowledging her attempt to comfort him, yet unable to shake the overwhelming feeling of guilt.
"We'll find out who's behind this campaign, and we'll stop them," she said with determination. "But first, we need to uncover the truth about this accident."
They stepped out of the elevator, resolute in their mission to uncover the truth, but a heavy weight still bore down on Clark. The path to restoring his reputation and easing his conscience felt more complicated than ever.
TOC
