It’s been less than 24 hours since the plane Lex was in crashed into an ocean.
“Mr. Luthor?” Lionel’s assistant is shaking nervously. “Here’s what the police have so far on the airplane crash.” Lionel, still with his impenetrable poker face on, says, “Very well, just leave it on my desk and I’ll get to it later.” Yet the instant the assistant closes the door, Lionel too eagerly reaches for the report and clings onto every word, wishing it were even longer than it already is.
Pete is driving along main street. But it’s not a happy day for cruising, And the car lingers around. Tired of driving in circles, he heads for the Talon. “Up next, more details on the plane crash!” But Pete turns off the radio. He’s heard the details too many times. Everyone’s heard the details too many times. Yet no one seems to realize that consequences will crash onto the town.
“Chloe, put these photos of the wreckage on the front page.” Chloe should be alive with excitement. Her first day this summer at the Daily Planet and this huge story creates a storm in the offices. But the photos are tasteless. But no matter. Chloe’s already seen the photos. And soon so will the rest of the world — over and over and over again.
Martha and Jonathan don’t usually spend hours at a time on the internet. Yet today, they hop from link to link. Searching for any news of Lex. And link after link after link they still aren’t told what everyone else already doesn’t know — where Lex is. But Lex isn’t all that they’re looking for.
Clark hasn’t even begun to settle down into Metropolis — he’s just cruising on the motorcycle scanning the streets when the voice beckons again. “Kal-el . . . ” And then, no more words come. Instead only images of a wreckage enter Clark’s head as a rush of immense pain surges through him. So, Clark stops the motorcycle, and tosses the ring aside.