INT. YEARS-AGO
PoV.Lex Luthor
The orange glow of the setting sun painted the waves in molten gold as they lapped against the quiet shoreline. Two boys sat on the sand, their shoes kicked off, the remnants of stolen snacks scattered between them. A bag of Lionel Luthor's imported chocolates sat half-empty, along with soda bottles still hissing faintly from the pop of their caps.
Alexander Stark leaned back, elbows propped in the sand, staring at the horizon with an expression far older than his years. He broke the silence first, his voice low, thoughtful.
"Lex… if we ever became rivals one day… would you kill me for the shareholders?"
Lex Luthor, chewing on a chocolate bar, froze mid-bite and frowned. His head turned sharply toward Alex, confusion written across his pale face.
"What?"
Alex gave a small, bitter laugh, shaking his head as the breeze caught his dark hair. "We're gonna grow up way sooner than we expect. Look at us… my dad hates me… so does yours. And Jarvis—" his voice faltered for a moment, softening, "Jarvis is dying right now. The only person who gave a damn about me… and he's slipping away. Once he's gone, I've got no one left."
The waves crashed gently in the background, filling the silence until Lex finally spoke, narrowing his eyes. "What about that AI you're working on? The one you keep scribbling blueprints for?"
Alex smirked faintly, a shadow of pride cutting through his grief. "Oh, you mean Ultron? Still working on it. Might take a while. He's… complicated."
Lex stared at his chocolate bar a moment, then muttered, almost too quietly, "I wish my dad was dead."
Alex turned his head sharply, eyes narrowing as though he didn't quite believe what he heard. "Say that again?"
Lex immediately looked away, shaking his head. "Nope. Nothing. Forget it." He forced a smirk, unwrapping another piece of chocolate. "Let's just… keep eating. Before my dad notices."
Alexander tossed a pebble into the surf, watching the ripple vanish. A sly grin tugged at his lips.
"Alright, Lex," he said suddenly, his tone shifting from heavy to mischievous, "real question this time. Who's your crush?"
Lex, mid-sip of his soda, sputtered and coughed, glaring at him. "What the hell kind of question is that?"
Alex leaned in, smirking like a devil. "Come on. Don't dodge. You had a thing for Bryce Wayne, didn't you? Don't even try to deny it... I've seen the way you look at him during board meetings. All serious, like you're calculating his stock price."
Lex's face tightened, a rare flicker of embarrassment breaking his usual icy composure. He tried to hide it with sarcasm. "Oh really? Funny… coming from you. Rumor mill says you've been dating Rita Farr. Hollywood's golden girl."
Alex groaned, throwing himself back onto the sand, one arm flung over his eyes. "Are you kidding me? Rita Farr? Dude, that's just a headline cooked up by bored gossip writers. I don't date Hollywood. All those people ever give us are flop movies and fake smiles. Waste of time."
Lex smirked, sensing an opening. "So… you're saying Bryce Wayne's fair game then?"
Alex peeked at him through the gap in his arm, eyes sharp, glinting with amusement. "Careful, Luthor. You keep pushing like that, and when we're enemies, I'll make sure to remind you of this conversation."
Lex suddenly stood, brushing sand from his hands as the last rays of sunlight caught against his sharp features. His eyes lingered on the horizon for a moment longer before he turned abruptly toward the looming silhouette of the mansion behind them.
"Stay here," he said, his voice clipped but steady. "I need to go back to the mansion for a bit."
Alex, half-distracted with a half-melted piece of chocolate between his fingers, only nodded. "Yeah, sure," he said casually, not looking away from the glowing line where the sea met the sky.
Lex's footsteps pounded against the wooden boardwalk leading off the beach until the sound faded into the distance. Silence reclaimed the shoreline.
Left alone, Alexander leaned back into the sand again, tilting his head toward the dusky heavens. He plucked another piece of Lionel's expensive chocolate from the bag, bit into it, and let the sweetness linger on his tongue.
"Tasty," he muttered to himself with a small, fleeting grin though his eyes still carried the same shadows as the waves lapping endlessly at the shore.
The gates of Luthor Mansion creaked open as Lex stepped inside, his polished shoes echoing faintly against the marble floor. The vast hall smelled faintly of aged oak and cigar smoke, heavy with memory. He moved cautiously, his hand brushing against the cold railing, until a low voice cut through the silence.
"Sit down, Lex."
Lionel Luthor stood at the far end of the room, framed by the amber glow of the firelight. His posture was rigid, commanding, his eyes glittering like steel through the haze of smoke curling from the fireplace.
Lex froze, his jaw tightening. He gave a small shake of his head, refusing the order.
Lionel's lips curled into something between amusement and contempt. "I wonder," he said slowly, his voice laced with venom, "which side are you, Lex? The Luthor… or the Stark?"
Before Lex could answer, Lionel reached to the hearth and drew out a heated iron rod, its tip glowing red with searing heat. The hiss of the metal filled the air, sharp and menacing.
Instinctively, Lex stepped back, his shoulders stiffening as the heat washed toward him.
"Then I have to punish you!" Lionel's voice cracked like a whip, booming across the hall. His face twisted with rage. "You damn brat!"
Lex's pulse thundered in his ears as he turned, sprinting for the staircase. His feet pounded against the wooden steps, the bannister blurring past as he scrambled upward.
Behind him, Lionel's footsteps thundered in pursuit, his bellow echoing off the stone walls.
"Help!" Lex's voice broke, desperate, echoing up into the empty corridors. "Help me!"
The gravel crunched beneath Alex's boots as he made his way along the dimly lit path near the Luthor mansion. The night air was sharp, carrying the faint scent of wet earth and the distant hum of cicadas. He kept his hands in his coat pockets, his thoughts wandering, until a sound cut through the silence high, desperate, and unmistakable.
"Help! Help me!"
Alex froze. The cry came from within the mansion, raw and terrified. His chest tightened as recognition hit him. That was Lex.
Without hesitation, Alex broke into a sprint, the quiet rhythm of his footsteps exploding into thunder across the gravel. The looming shadow of the mansion grew larger with every stride, its windows glowing faintly against the night. As he neared the heavy oak doors, he could still hear Lex's voice echoing from inside, frantic, breaking with fear.
"Help me!"
Alex's pulse surged, every instinct sharpening. He shoved the doors open, the old hinges groaning as they gave way. The air inside was thick, heavy with the scent of burning metal. Somewhere deeper in the mansion, a struggle was unfolding—shouts, hurried steps, and the unmistakable clang of something being dragged across the floor.
"Lex!" Alex's voice carried through the grand hall, strong and urgent, as he charged forward toward the sound.
Lex kept running, his footsteps echoing on the fourth floor of the mansion until he found himself trapped near a tall window. Lionel appeared from the shadows, gripping the heated rod tightly.
"Guess you're trapped now… now I have to punish a very bad boy!" Lionel growled, raising the rod high.
Lex ducked as the rod swung past him, missing by inches. With desperate strength, he shoved Lionel, sending him crashing through the window. Lionel's scream echoed before it was silenced by the fall.
Panting heavily, Lex stood frozen in exhaustion until he heard a voice behind him.
"Lex!"
He turned, only to see Alex standing in the hallway. Alex's hand shook as he pointed at him.
"Yo-you killed your own father, Lex!? What the hell are you thinking!?"
Lex's voice was cold, almost broken. "We feel the same about taking out our dad, right?"
Alex shook his head furiously. "No! This is pure murder! I am not like you, who murdered his own dad at sunset! My dad always loved me he just never showed it! And you… I don't even know what to say. I'm out of here!"
INT. PRESENT-TIME...
Lex (PoV): "The taste of dust and blood was still sharp in my mouth. Weak. That's what I was once. Weak enough to cling to another… Alexander. My only real friend. The one who saw me when I was nothing. And the one I drove away with my own hands. One mistake that was all it took to turn friendship into fire and ash."
"I hear the impact before I see him the thrum of metal feet striking the ruined ground. The golden-red figure stands tall, the glow of his chest reactor painting me in judgment."
"End of the line, Luthor," Iron Man says, his voice filtered, commanding.
I laugh, dry and bitter. "Not quite, Stark… No. Not Stark." I let the word hang, let the truth cut through. "Yeah, right… Alexander Stark."
He stiffens at the name. "Good. I want the weight of it to linger between us."
"Oh, you need not worry that I will continue to fight you. I concede your superiority at that game, Alex. You don't mind me using your nickname, do you?" My words carry the echo of old days, of laughter shared in the shadows of futures we never reached.
His silence tells me all.
"But have you won, truly? I think not." My voice steadies, even as my hands tremble. "I have always believed the essential part of winning is to enjoy your opponent's humiliation at losing. That is the real reward of the game. That is what my father deprived everyone of. He saw the world as his opponent… and at last, he realized he could not win. If he had not done it that night, he would have done it another."
"What are you talking about?" Stark demands, his confusion breaking through the steel.
I raise my gauntlet. The repulsor hums against my temple, its glow hot against my skin. For a moment, the machine in me falters, and the man resurfaces.
This, Alex… forgive me, my best friend.
"Lex… NO!" His shout tears through the wreckage, desperate, almost human. He lunges forward.
The world flashes white. Pain. Silence. Release.
When it fades, I am no more. Only the hollow shell of Lex Luthor remains, sprawled upon the earth.
Iron Man halts, his chest rising with a breath too heavy to be contained. "He cannot look at me, not truly." He turns, walking away, each step dragging with grief.
A police officer hurries over, breathless, eyes wide. "What happened?"
Stark's voice comes low, heavy, broken. "Somebody lost…"
And somewhere inside him, he knows "I wanted it that way...."