American comics: Damn it, I’m surrounded by those who worry about their fathers!.

Chapter 1006 Clark's Speech, Peter's Shock!

Clark's voice lowered as he spoke.

Firestorm's body visibly trembled, and its energy glow dimmed slightly.

Ronnie's consciousness gained the upper hand in the fusion, and an overwhelming sense of guilt nearly overwhelmed him.

“I…I don’t know. I just wanted them to stay away. I was scared. The energy…it just exploded on its own, like a nightmare…”

He stammered, pointing at the glass girl, "I tried, I tried my hardest, Martin kept calculating, analyzing... but we can only convert metals, stones, inorganic matter, I... I don't know how to... how to convert a living person..."

He choked up and couldn't continue speaking; the immense pain caused his energy to fluctuate violently once again.

Clark walked a few steps away from him and stopped, looking at him with a gentle yet firm gaze.

"Ronnie, look at me."

His voice carried a peculiar, soothing power.

"Think about it, before that, could you do this? Instantly transform organic matter into another form of glass?"

Firestorm shook his head blankly: "No...no, I...we can only change the structure of inorganic matter."

"so."

Clark took a deep breath. "This means your abilities have evolved, Ronnie. Under extreme pressure and driven by strong emotions, your power has broken through its original limitations."

He took a step closer, ignoring the heat emanating from the other person. "Since your emotional outburst last time allowed your ability to 'evolve' in this way, why can't you calm down, with unwavering determination and...hope, and guide this ability again to reverse the process?"

"hope?"

Ronnie repeated it to himself.

"Yes, I hope."

Clark's voice was powerful. "You're not a monster, Ronnie. You're a hero, a hero who experienced a terrible accident and wants to make amends. Professor Stein, you are. You possess the power to alter matter. This power once went out of control, but you have the ability to control it. The Godfather often told me that we can use our abilities to do the right thing for this world. Let's start here! Let's start with her."

He pointed to the glass girl, "It all started with bringing back all the people you unintentionally hurt in Uralsk."

Clark's words were like a shot in the arm, injecting into the chaotic and desperate core of the firestorm.

Ronnie's breathing gradually calmed down, and Martin's consciousness cleared up as well.

“What he said makes sense, Ronnie. The core of our capability is to recombine atoms. Since we can achieve a leap in the properties of matter, there must be an inverse path in theory. We need to remain absolutely calm.”

Firestorm took a deep breath.

The crimson energy around him stopped leaping wildly and began to converge inward, becoming solid and stable.

He looked at Clark, "I...I want to try."

Clark gave him an encouraging smile, took a few steps back to make room for him: "I believe in you, Ronnie, Professor Stein. Focus on her, think about bringing her back, bringing her back safe and sound."

Firestorm nodded and said nothing more.

He then slowly walked up to the girl in the glass and knelt down again.

This time, his hands no longer trembled.

He gently placed his hands, burning with a steady crimson energy, on the cold glass surface and closed his eyes.

Only a low, energetic hum remained in the laboratory.

Clark held his breath, his super vision locking onto the point of contact.

He could see, at the microscopic level, that the energy of the firestorm was penetrating into the glass in an extremely subtle way, attempting to decipher the molecular structure.

Ronnie's consciousness was no longer confused, and he gritted his teeth to change the molecular structure.

"Come back...come back...please...come back!"

As Ronnie growled, a soft glimmer of light flashed across the surface of the glass girl.

The solidified material, like ice and snow meeting the warm sun, begins to soften from the point of contact.

The color quickly shifted from a deathly transparency to a texture reminiscent of flesh and blood.

The girl's stiff, terrified expression began to come alive, and the pulsation of blood vessels under her skin reappeared.

It worked!
A few seconds later, a young girl, dressed in winter clothes, suddenly opened her eyes, gasping for breath, her eyes filled with the bewilderment and fear of escaping death.

She saw the firestorm so close at hand, its face showing excitement and relief, and screamed in fright as she ran backward.

"Don't be afraid, it's alright, you're alright now."

Clark immediately stepped forward, standing between the girl and the firestorm, and comforted her.

Firestorm looked at the girl, who was still in shock but was indeed alive, and the immense joy made him almost unable to stand.

"We...we did it? Martin! We did it!"

Martin's voice was also filled with excitement, "The principle works, we must restore everyone before the Winter Guard finds us."

The following day, Red Square in Moscow.

A somber atmosphere enveloped this square that had witnessed countless historical events.

Huge banners bearing Russian slogans such as "Severely punish the American butchers!", "Firestorm, blood for blood!", and "Superhumans, get off the earth!" fluttered in the cold wind.

A dense crowd gathered silently, like a volcano about to erupt. On the high platform, an official in military uniform stood with a cold expression, and a declaration filled with the smell of gunpowder blared from a loudspeaker:

"...The tragedy of Uralsk is an unforgivable war crime committed by American imperialism and its superhuman weapons against the Russian people. We will no longer tolerate lies, no longer tolerate massacres in the name of 'heroes.' The Winter Guard will fight at all costs..."

The crowd's anger was ignited, and they roared in fury.

"eye for eye!"

"Hand over Firestorm!"

"Kill the American!"

Just as the flames of hatred were about to devour all reason, a dark blue figure, accompanied by a sound-barrier-breaking roar, landed steadily in the open area in front of the platform.

Upon seeing Superman appear, the crowd fell into a deathly silence, followed by a hostile uproar.

Countless eyes were fixed on the figure representing the "American" symbol.

Although Clarke has not yet graduated from college and become the world-famous Superman.

But starting with General Zod's Battle of Metropolis, Superman and Homelander, who have made frequent appearances, have become the most well-known superheroes in the United States and are closely associated with the country.

Clark stood still, ignoring the gazes that seemed to pierce him.

He took a deep breath, and his clear and loud voice, amplified by his own bio-field, resonated throughout Red Square and even penetrated the live television signal, reaching the entire world: "People of Russia, listen to me. I know your anger, I know your sorrow."

"But believe me, it was an accident, a terrible accident that got out of control, triggered by immense panic and guilt. Firestorm, Ronnie Raymond and Martin Stein, they were not the butchers, they were victims of out-of-control forces."

"Just yesterday, on the outskirts of Moscow, they succeeded!"

Clark's voice suddenly rose, "They reversed their powers and brought the first victim back to Earth unharmed!"

He pointed to the sky, and a firestorm carrying a little girl slowly descended.

Upon hearing Clark's words, the crowd erupted in uproar.

Clark stood in the sky, took a deep breath, and decided to say something.

He sees himself as the future Superman who will save the world in the Godfather's eyes. Although Clark doesn't know how he did it, he wants to use his power to stop the increasingly chaotic situation.

Just like the beliefs and words that the Godfather once taught him.

Clark looked at the crowd.

"The firestorm is making amends; they are proving that superhuman power can be used for destruction, but it can also be used for salvation and repair. The tragedy of Uralsk can be averted."

He looked around at the countless pairs of eyes filled with complex emotions, and his voice became even deeper.

"However, my friends, Uralsk is not an isolated wound; look at our world!"

Clark's gaze seemed to pierce through space, seeing conflicts erupting around the world due to fear and suspicion.

"What is the source of the tragedy at the Makweja border, the rumors that smeared Indian heroes, and the escalating accusations and hostility between nations over superhuman abilities?"

"Is it superhumans themselves? No! It's the 'superhuman conspiracy theory,' the absurd theories that exploit our fears, spread hatred, and crudely categorize people with special abilities as 'weapons' or 'monsters.'"

"It is these theories that are spreading like poison around the world, inciting antagonism between nations and people, replacing reason with panic, and blinding people with hatred. They are the real source of today's global riots and international disputes!"

"Let's stop blaming each other and stop being blinded by hatred!"

Clark's speech was full of sincerity and power.

On Red Square, some angry faces began to soften, revealing signs of reflection and wavering.

However, the official on the high platform had an extremely gloomy expression.

at the same time.

In the living room of Smallwell, at Patrick Farm.

Peter suddenly stood up from the sofa.

He stared at Clark's face on the television screen in front of him, his expression grim.

"No... Clark... You can't say that!"

Peter muttered to himself.

To understand the rules that govern this world.

Every word Clark says touches on the most sensitive nerves—national sovereignty, the attribution of power, and the global order.

His call for "unity" and "transcending borders" comes at a sensitive time of rising nationalism and mutual distrust among nations, especially after his intervention in a major Russian crisis. It's like dancing on a minefield!
Peter immediately used the Sand of the Sand that Clark was carrying to make contact with Clark.

"Clark, I'm your godfather. Stop! Don't say another word! Don't take sides! Get out of there now!"

On the television screen, Clark seemed to pause slightly, as if he had received some signal.

The hopeful light on his face was instantly replaced by a look of astonishment.

He looked up at a certain direction in the sky, then glanced at the crowd of people with complex expressions on Red Square.

He didn't quite understand why the Godfather had told him to stop.

"Why?"

(End of this chapter)