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Clark picked up the chip, holding it between his thumb and forefinger as if it were a live coal. "Because whoever sent it wants me to remember that I'm not from here. Not really. They want me to hear the lullaby, and then look at you, look at the boys, look at this town, and feel the lie."

"Edge is dead. This isn't Edge." Clark turned. His eyes weren't glowing red with heat vision, but with something worse: recognition. "It's a memory. Not of Krypton's science. Of Krypton's lullabies ."

She didn't call Clark. Not yet.

"Play it again," he said quietly. "Not for me. For the file. Record what happens after."

Lois felt the old, familiar cold trickle down her spine. "That's not possible. Morgan Edge—" superman & lois s01e02 flac

The G-sharp hum filled the room again. And this time, Clark didn't block it out. He let it wash over him. He let the lullaby of his birth mother vibrate through his bones. And then he opened his mouth and began to hum back.

"Turn it off," he said, his voice flat.

He closed his eyes, and for a terrible moment, he wasn't the farm boy or the hero. He was Kal-El, the last son of a dead world, listening to a ghost.