Saiyan of Gotham

The Wayne family's summer in Smallville had begun as a simple vacation, but for Thomas Wayne, it quickly became something more—a mission, a mystery, and a chance to glimpse the extraordinary hidden in the everyday.

Ojaga Wayne was now six years and three months old, Bruce just a few months behind at five years and six months. Both boys had grown stronger than anyone in Smallville could guess, thanks to months of training, their unique heritage, and the alien nutrition that Thomas and Lucius Fox had carefully rationed from the Saiyan pod. The pod's stores were nearly depleted now, but the results were undeniable: Bruce was as sturdy as a young athlete, and Ojaga's strength, when not suppressed, was simply off the charts.

The farmhouse the Waynes had purchased was modest by their Gotham standards, but it was comfortable, and its real value was its proximity to the Kent family. Thomas had chosen it for a reason. He'd seen something on the scouter—an energy signature so powerful, so alien, that it had haunted his thoughts for weeks. He needed to know more, and Smallville was the only place to start.

On their first evening, after the Waynes had settled in, Thomas waited until the house was quiet. He slipped out to his study, where the scouter—now heavily modified with WayneTech and Saiyan tech—sat on his desk. He powered it up, careful to keep the settings low. The device hummed, its display casting a faint green glow in the dark room.

He scanned the area, watching as hundreds of dots appeared across the map. Most were faint, ordinary. But there it was again—a single, blazing red dot, pulsing with power far beyond anything else in the region. The location was unmistakable: the Kent farm, less than a mile away.

Thomas labeled the signal "Subject S" in his notes. He still didn't know the child's name, but he knew, with scientific certainty, that this was no ordinary boy.

The next morning, the Waynes visited the Kent family. Martha Wayne and Martha Kent bonded instantly, sharing stories of raising boys and the challenges of country life. Jonathan Kent was welcoming, and Clark—quiet, polite, with a shy smile—seemed like any other farm kid. Only Ojaga, with his keen senses, noticed the way Clark moved: almost too smoothly, too strong for a child his age.

A week later, the boys were already inseparable. Bruce and Clark built forts and chased chickens, while Ojaga watched, sometimes joining, sometimes simply observing. One afternoon, as the sun dipped low, the three boys gathered near the barn.

Clark, emboldened by their friendship, challenged Bruce and Ojaga. "Bet you can't lift the back of Dad's truck."

Bruce laughed, but Clark crouched and, with a grunt, lifted the rear wheels clean off the ground. Bruce's jaw dropped. Ojaga's eyes widened, and he felt a jolt of excitement—he could sense Clark's energy now, a radiant, solar force that reminded him, eerily, of the Superman he remembered from his previous life.

Bruce, always competitive, tried next. He strained, managing to lift one wheel an inch off the ground. Ojaga cheered him on, pride in his brother's determination.

Then Ojaga stepped forward, wrapped his hands around the bumper of an old Jeep, and, focusing his Qi, lifted it with ease. Clark's eyes went wide, and Bruce's mouth hung open in awe.

"You're even stronger than my brother!" Bruce exclaimed, staring at Clark.

Clark grinned, but his gaze lingered on Ojaga's waist, where the tail was barely concealed beneath his shirt. Clark didn't say anything, but Ojaga saw the flicker of recognition—and of excitement—in his eyes.

That night, as the boys slept over at the Kent house (Thomas and Martha having returned to Gotham for a few days on urgent business), Clark finally whispered to Ojaga, "I saw your tail. Does it hurt?"

Ojaga shook his head. "No. It's just… different."

Clark nodded. "I feel different too. I can do things other kids can't."

Ojaga smiled. "Me too. But we have to keep it secret, okay?"

Clark agreed, and the two boys shared a silent pact—a promise to protect each other's secrets, whatever they might be.

Meanwhile, back in Gotham, Thomas and Lucius Fox were hard at work in the research center. The Saiyan pod's nutrition was nearly gone, and both men knew they needed a new solution. Lucius had been experimenting with Earth herbs, rare minerals, and even fragments from meteorites collected by Wayne Enterprises over the years. Early tests on animals had shown promise—faster healing, increased strength, better recovery.

One particular meteorite, green and crystalline, caught Lucius's attention. Its energy readings were off the charts. He labeled it "Project Kryptonite" and began a series of cautious experiments, extracting trace minerals and testing their effects on cell cultures. The results were astonishing: the mineral had unique properties, interacting with biological systems in ways no Earth substance could.

Thomas reviewed the data, his mind racing. If they could refine the process, they might be able to create a new source of nutrition for Ojaga and Bruce—one that didn't rely on the dwindling supply from the Saiyan pod. But the project would take years to perfect, and the risks were unknown.

For now, Thomas kept the research secret, sharing it only with Lucius and a small team of trusted scientists. He made a note in his journal:

"Project Kryptonite: Potential breakthrough in energy extraction. Application for nutrition and regenerative therapy. Extreme caution required."

Back in Smallville, Bruce and Ojaga felt the effects of the depleted nutrition. Bruce tired more easily after training, and Ojaga found it harder to suppress his energy. But both boys pushed on, determined to grow stronger.

The days passed in a blur of chores, games, and quiet conversations. Ojaga and Clark grew closer, each sensing the other's power but never speaking of it openly. Bruce, too, felt the change—his body growing stronger, his senses sharper, his confidence growing.

One evening, as the sun set over the fields, Jonathan Kent found the three boys sitting on the porch, quietly watching the fireflies.

"You boys have a good day?" he asked.

Bruce nodded. "Best day ever."

Clark smiled. "Yeah. We're all… special, I think."

Jonathan ruffled his son's hair. "Everyone's special in their own way, Clark. Just remember to use your gifts for good."

Ojaga glanced at Clark, then at Bruce, and nodded. He knew, deep down, that their destinies were intertwined—that one day, their secrets would change the world.

But for now, they were just boys, enjoying a summer in Smallville, bound by friendship, family, and the promise of tomorrow.