“I am his father and you are correct, I do only have one son. However,” he said, moving closer to her swiftly, keeping his pace even and as far from threatening as he could, “there are two versions of the same person here. One is older, the other younger. It seems that they are very different from one another, in more than that way.” The younger one was more child-like than the older, more like a teenager than the hero that he would need to become. He had mastered flight, but flight was only one of the things he would need to learn if he were to grow closer to becoming the person that the world would one day honor and look to for assistance.
He looked thoughtful, turned his eyes up to the sky as if to see something that wasn’t there to begin with. “The one who arrived shortly before I did calls himself Superman.” And Jor-El was as proud as a father could ever be, for his son had managed what he’d wanted for him all along, and if the other could do the same, he would be better off.