| Metropolis - September 25
Lex Luthor was seething. No—beyond seething. He was raging, thrashing his immaculate office while Mercy stood stoically by the door, unflinching as her employer's temper spiraled.
Superman had somehow discovered his hidden factories and stormed them with his Justice League allies. If that information backed with evidence reached the public, if even a fragment leaked, it would be impossible for Lex to snake his way out of it the way he had the last time.
He had spent years—years—scraping his reputation back together after the last exposure of his dealings. Piece by piece, press conference by press conference, philanthropic gesture by philanthropic gesture, he had rebuilt the image of Lex Luthor: Metropolis' savior, businessman, and innovator. Now all of it threatened to collapse like a house of cards thanks to that alien interloper.
And the Light weren't answering his calls. Every number, every channel he tried, nothing. Just what in hell was going on?
Finally, a call came through. His projector flickered, revealing a cold hologram of Vandal Savage. Lex quickly forced his breathing steady, calmly setting his overturned monitor back on the desk, brushing invisible dust off his sleeves. "Savage, what's the situ—"
"We're cutting you."
Lex blinked. "What—?"
"Feel free to collaborate with the authorities to lessen your prison sentence," Savage said flatly. "They won't find any trace of us."
"You can't do this to me." Lex's voice cracked with incredulity before rising into fury. "I funded the Light for years. You know how much I sacrificed?"
Savage only stared, unblinking, his face a mask of indifferent disdain.
Lex's control shattered. He swept the contents of his desk onto the floor, glass shattering as he kicked down chairs, hurled files, and cursed. All the while, the hologram watched dispassionately.
It hit him then: this wasn't just his fall. The entire Light was going to be exposed. But Lex—Lex was the public face. The accessible one. The one without centuries of shadows to hide in. He would be the sacrifice, the scapegoat, the one paraded before the courts in chains.
Breathing heavily, Lex slumped into his chair, his rage burning down into exhaustion. Constantly sitting at the helm of LexCorp for decades hadn't done his physique any favors.
He had options. He could liquidate assets, disappear with a few hundred million, live out the rest of his life on some island in decadent comfort. But the thought of hiding made bile rise in his throat. Lex Luthor did not hide.
LexCorp was his life's work, his empire, his legacy. If he went down, then Superman would go down with him. He would get rid of the alien and pin it on the Light, while exposing every treacherous member who had dared abandon him. The League could fight it out with them while he bided his time, using what connections and influence to negotiate his sentence down to less than ten years. Mercy could run the company in his stead.
Yes. That would be the path forward. That would be his revenge. And to guarantee it… he would finish Project Doomsday.
"Are you finished?" Savage's hologram asked, his tone as unimpressed as ever.
Lex's head jerked up.
"Because there's one more thing you should know, now that we're cutting ties. Do you know why your last bodyguard, Hope Taya, disappeared?"
**
Hours later, Lex sat again, sipping on expensive bourbon in his office. Or perhaps "office" was too small a word. Opulent and sprawling, designed to flaunt wealth and dominance. It offered sweeping panoramic views of Metropolis—clearly intended to let Luthor quite literally look down on the city... and on Superman.
Every surface gleamed with bespoke LexCorp technology pulled from the bleeding edge of R&D. The sleek, open-concept kitchen and full bar could have belonged to a luxury hotel. For Lex, it was simply one of his homes.
The hired staff had dutifully scrubbed away the wreckage of his earlier tantrum, leaving the space pristine once more. Lex stood at the bar, pouring himself a drink with measured precision, each swallow dulling the fire in his chest.
But tranquility never lasted long in his life.
The moment shattered with a crash as reinforced glass exploded inward. A figure clad in black and gold flew through the window like a missile, scattering shards across the marble floor.
Lex spun, nearly dropping his glass, his eyes wide.
Mercy reacted instantly. Her right arm transformed into an energy cannon, state of the art nanites shifting with seamless precision. She fired a brilliant red bolt across the room. The intruder dodged effortlessly, golden eyes blazing beneath a Spartan-like helmet. Mercy collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
Lex's mind raced. Psychic abilities? Was this how the Light's cover had been blown?
Still, he forced composure, sinking into a chair with practiced ease, folding his hands together like a patient statesman. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Nova?" he asked, his tone calm, almost gentle. That was his strategy—always calm, always polite. It made him appear reasonable, admirable, even when his mind was cold and calculating beneath.
Behind that facade, Lex's brain whirred. He pressed a concealed button with his foot, summoning his private security force. Dozens of scenarios played out in his head. If he could stall, if he could twist this intruder's motives, perhaps he could regain the upper hand.
Nova's voice cut through the silence, sharp and dangerous. "Where's Savage, Luthor? And don't bother hoping for your security force or the police. Every piece of tech in this room is under my control."
The golden eyes glared through the visor, radiating a promise of violence.
Lex felt a flicker of fear. Where was Superman when you actually needed him? The alien was nauseatingly noble. He wouldn't let a fellow "hero" murder a human being. Would he?
Luthor swallowed his pride. "I honestly don't know," he said. "They abandoned me."
"Wrong answer." Nova's hand rose, his voice a growl. "I'll rip it out of your head if I have to."
Suddenly Lex's body lifted off the barstool, dragged through the air by invisible force until Nova's iron grip closed around his throat. His airway constricted, panic flaring.
"Wait!" Lex rasped, his voice hoarse. "What is this for? I can help!" He hated begging, but the thought of his mind being violated made his skin crawl. He had secrets too precious to expose at the moment.
"He messed with family," Nova snarled.
Then, unbidden, an image surfaced in Lex's thoughts: Hope Taya, his vanished bodyguard, and her son.
"He messed with my family too," Lex croaked, gasping against the crushing grip. "We're alike. I can help you."
Nova froze. The golden light in his eyes vanished revealing a confused white. Then, just as suddenly, the hand released him. Lex crumpled to the ground, coughing, dragging in precious air.
When he looked up, ready to thank or curse Superman for his inevitable late arrival, the room was empty. Mercy still lay unconscious on the floor. The only signs Nova had been there at all were the jagged edges of the shattered window and the lingering sense of menace in the air.
Another hero had been added to his shit list.