At LuthorCorp Tower, Lex Luthor watched the footage in his father's office, a glass of eighteen-year-old Macallan untouched on his desk. The amber liquid caught the light from multiple screens displaying Superman's debut from various angles. John Corbin stood by the door, his military posture betraying tension as his hand unconsciously drifted to his side where the experimental mineral treatment had helped heal his war wounds. Lionel commanded the room from behind his massive mahogany desk, his fingers steepled as he reviewed the data on multiple screens with predatory focus.
The office itself spoke of power - floor-to-ceiling windows offering a god's-eye view of Metropolis, modern art pieces worth millions adorning the walls, and at the center, Lionel's desk positioned like a throne. Every detail had been chosen to remind visitors who held the real power in this city. But today, even Lionel Luthor seemed small compared to the figure soaring through his screens.
"Fascinating," Lionel mused, watching bullets bounce harmlessly off the figure in blue. His voice carried that particular tone Lex had learned to recognize from childhood - the sound of his father sensing an opportunity. "A being of such power, appearing out of nowhere... The timing is almost too perfect."
"Not nowhere," Lex spoke carefully, measuring his words. Years of verbal sparring with his father had taught him the importance of precision. "Those minerals we've been collecting - the ones Stark found in Afghanistan. They emit a unique radiation signature that defies conventional physics. And now this 'Superman' appears, displaying abilities that similarly laugh at our understanding of natural law?"
Corbin shifted his weight, a slight grimace crossing his face. The mineral treatments had helped heal his injuries, but Lex had noticed the former soldier's increasing dependence on them. "You think there's a connection?" he asked, his voice carrying an edge of desperate hope.
"Perhaps," Lex kept his tone neutral, aware of his father's scrutiny. He walked to the window, choosing his next words with surgical precision. "The minerals have shown remarkable effects on human subjects - your own recovery being a prime example, John. But their true potential... against someone like this..."
"The treatments saved my life," Corbin interjected, an almost religious fervor in his voice. "But even with the enhanced strength, the accelerated healing - it's not enough, is it? Not compared to him." He gestured at the screens where Superman effortlessly lifted a car.
"Which is precisely why Project Metallo needs to be accelerated," Lex turned back to face his father. "We've only scratched the surface of what these minerals can do. Combined with Stark's cybernetic designs..."
The phone's sharp ring cut through the tension - Obadiah Stane's private line. Lionel answered it on speaker, a subtle reminder of who controlled this conversation. The speaker crackled to life, carrying Stane's voice from halfway around the world.
"Obadiah," Lionel's voice carried its usual authority, though Lex detected a hint of strain. "I assume you're watching this as well?"
"This changes everything, Lionel," Stane's voice was tight with barely contained emotion. "The weapons we're developing, the plans for Stark's tech - they all seem rather quaint now, don't they? A man who can fly, who bullets can't harm... How do we compete with that?"
"On the contrary," Lex interjected smoothly, seizing his moment. "If anything, they're more crucial than ever. Particularly if my theories about those minerals prove correct." He caught Corbin's eye, seeing the soldier straighten with renewed purpose.
Lionel shot his son a warning look but nodded slightly. "Go on."
"The world just learned it's not alone," Lex continued, warming to his theme. "People will want protection. Insurance against beings of such power. Our research could provide that." He pulled up Project Metallo's schematics on one of the screens - cybernetic enhancement powered by refined mineral cores. "Imagine: not just enhanced soldiers, but true guardians for humanity. Men like John, whose sacrifice and dedication could be augmented beyond normal human limits."
"The mineral shipments are proceeding as planned?" Stane asked, his voice carrying an undertone of desperation. "Even with Stark's... current situation?"
"Everything continues as arranged," Lionel confirmed, though his eyes never left Lex. "Though perhaps with some adjustments to account for recent developments."
"The minerals respond differently to each subject," Corbin added, stepping forward. "My treatments have shown promising results, but the real breakthrough would be full integration - not just using the radiation for healing, but actually incorporating the minerals into a cybernetic framework."
"Which is exactly what Project Metallo proposes," Lex brought up more detailed schematics. "A fully integrated cybernetic enhancement system, powered by refined mineral cores. The radiation that helps heal John could be channeled, focused, perhaps even weaponized."
"Against Superman?" Stane's voice carried equal parts fear and hope.
"Against any threat," Lex corrected smoothly. "The world's changing, Obadiah. We need to change with it."
Lex studied the footage of Superman, his mind already working several moves ahead. Let his father handle the immediate business - Lex's plans required a longer view. He thought about his college days with Clark Kent, about certain suspicions he'd never voiced.
"We should accelerate the mineral research," he suggested. "Not just as an energy source, but as a potential deterrent. If beings like this exist..."
"Already thinking of countermeasures, son?" Lionel's tone carried a hint of approval that still had the power to move something in Lex's chest, even after all these years. "Very well. Coordinate with our research division. But remember - I make the final decisions."
"Of course, father." Lex's expression gave nothing away, though inwardly he smiled. His father might make the official decisions, but Lex had already set certain plans in motion that would never cross Lionel's desk. "I've also taken the liberty of having our surveillance teams track Superman's flight patterns. The more we understand his capabilities, the better prepared we'll be."
Lionel nodded, turning back to his conversation with Stane. Lex caught Corbin's eye and gestured for him to follow as he left the office. The former soldier moved with barely contained eagerness, like a hunting dog straining at its leash.
"Sir?" Corbin asked once they were in the hallway, his voice low and intense. The overhead lights caught the faint green tinge in his veins - a side effect of the mineral treatments that the doctors still couldn't explain.
"Keep tracking those mineral shipments," Lex said quietly. "Every sample, every test result. I want to know everything. Particularly any variations in radiation signatures. If these minerals came from wherever Superman did..."
"You really think they could hurt him? Superman?" Corbin's voice carried equal parts hope and fear. "Even with what they've done for me, I'm still human. Still limited. But Project Metallo..."
"Everyone has a weakness, John," Lex watched the footage playing on a lobby monitor, showing Superman soaring above Metropolis. "Even gods can fall. It's just a matter of finding the right pressure point."
"The project's schematics are ready," Corbin said, his hand again drifting to his side where the mineral treatments had saved his life. "The cybernetic integration systems, the power core designs... We just need your authorization to proceed with the full conversion."
"You understand what you're volunteering for?" Lex turned to study the soldier. "The mineral treatments were one thing, but full cybernetic conversion... There's no going back from that, John. You'll be the first of your kind."
"I was the first the moment those rocks saved my life," Corbin's eyes held a zealot's certainty. "This is the next step. Someone needs to stand against them, sir. Someone needs to protect humanity from beings who think they can rule us through sheer power."
"He hasn't shown any sign of wanting to rule," Lex pointed out, playing devil's advocate even as his own plans crystallized.
"Yet," Corbin's voice hardened. "They always want to rule in the end. Power corrupts, isn't that what you taught me? Today it's stopping bank robbers, tomorrow it's deciding who deserves to be saved... Who gave him the right to make those choices? Who elected him humanity's protector?"
Lex allowed himself a small smile. John Corbin's passion would serve his purposes well. "Get the surgical team ready," he said quietly. "Project Metallo begins tonight."
He returned to his own office, smaller but still impressive, and finally poured himself a drink. On his screens, Superman saved another life, waved to cameras, won the city's heart with each passing moment. But Lex saw something else - a being of godlike power setting himself above humanity, appointing himself judge and savior without anyone's consent.
"The world's changing," Lex murmured, already composing coded messages to certain research teams. "Best to be prepared."
He began making notes - careful, encrypted files that would never cross his father's desk. Project Metallo was just the beginning. The mineral research would continue on multiple fronts, exploring every possible application. And if his suspicions about Clark Kent proved correct...
The game was just beginning, and Lex Luthor intended to play a very long game indeed. After all, gods could only rule as long as humans chose to worship them. And Lex had always been good at showing people the feet of clay beneath the floating figures in their skies.
Behind him, Metropolis stretched out like a chessboard waiting for its pieces to be moved. Above, a red cape fluttered against the clouds. And deep in LuthorCorp's labs, John Corbin prepared to become something new - humanity's first line of defense against the age of gods and monsters.
The world would never be the same. And Lex Luthor intended to ensure that change served his vision, not Superman's.
—
Halfway around the world, in a cave deep in the mountains of Afghanistan, Tony Stark stared at a small television screen, trying to ignore the constant burn in his chest where shrapnel inched ever closer to his heart. The car battery connected to his electromagnet hummed quietly - a sound that had become both comforting and maddening in its constancy. As he watched the footage of Superman's debut, his mind raced with calculations, possibilities, and an uncomfortable sense of his own mortality.
Beside him, Ho Yinsen adjusted his glasses, equally transfixed by the impossible sight on the battered television. The Yale-educated surgeon had saved Tony's life twice now - first with the electromagnet surgery, and then by teaching him how to survive in this cave of horrors. His steady presence had become Tony's anchor in a world that made less sense with each passing day.
"Remarkable," Yinsen murmured, his educated accent carrying wonder rather than fear. "A being of such power, choosing to help rather than dominate. Look how gently he handles those people, Stark. Such restraint, such concern for human life."
Tony's hand drifted to the electromagnet in his chest, feeling its crude warmth through his shirt. Three weeks had passed since the attack on his convoy, since he'd watched young American soldiers die from weapons bearing his name. The memory of Jimmy - couldn't have been more than nineteen - asking for a photo together just minutes before the explosion still haunted his dreams.
"What do you see when you look at him, Stark?" Yinsen asked quietly, noting Tony's distraction.
"Power," Tony replied automatically, then paused, reconsidering. "No... control. Look at how precisely he moves. Every action calculated, measured. Even when he's stopping that car - he doesn't just smash it, he absorbs the impact to protect the people inside." His mind was already racing with theoretical applications, mechanical solutions to problems of force distribution and impact absorption.
"You're thinking of armor," Yinsen observed shrewdly.
"I'm thinking of everything," Tony admitted. He glanced at their workbench where the preliminary designs for his miniaturized arc reactor lay scattered among the components Raza's men had brought. "The suit would need to be stronger than what we've planned. More power, better structural support. If there are things like this in the world..."
"Focus, Stark," Yinsen whispered, recognizing the familiar signs of Tony's mind racing too far ahead. "We must finish your heart first. The arc reactor-"
"Could be more than just a replacement for this battery," Tony interrupted, new ideas flooding his mind. "The power output we calculated - it's massive overkill for just keeping the shrapnel out. But if we're powering a suit of armor..."
The cave door's heavy metal hinges creaked, announcing Raza's arrival before he appeared. The Ten Rings commander walked with the careful precision of a man used to being feared, his eyes never leaving the small television screen. Even he seemed affected by the footage of Superman casually defying physics.
"Your weapons seem less impressive now, Stark," he said coldly, pulling out his phone to show a different angle of Superman's debut. "Perhaps we should reconsider our arrangement."
Tony felt Yinsen tense beside him but kept his own voice steady, drawing on years of boardroom negotiations. "That's why you need me more than ever," he replied smoothly, despite the fear churning in his gut. "Think about it - someone who can build weapons to counter beings like that? Imagine what that would be worth."
"You promised us the Jericho missile," Raza reminded him. "Yet you ask for equipment that has nothing to do with missile guidance systems." He picked up one of Tony's arc reactor sketches. "What game are you playing, Stark?"
"The Jericho is yesterday's weapon," Tony said carefully, watching Raza's reaction. "You've seen what's out there now. The world's changing - we need to think bigger."
"Bigger?" Raza's smile was sharp. "Like this Superman? A being who could level mountains with a gesture, yet chooses to help old women cross the street?"
"Power is only useful if you can control it," Tony replied, thinking of all his weapons now in terrorist hands. "The Jericho is brute force. What I'm working on... it's about precision. Control. The ability to stand against anything - even someone like him."
Raza studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Tony was acutely aware of the car battery at his feet, of how vulnerable he was in this moment. One wrong word, one miscalculation...
"You have two months," Raza said finally. "Show me something meaningful in two weeks, or our hospitality may become less comfortable." He gestured to the TV. "The world is changing, Stark. We must change with it. But remember - you work for us now. Whatever you create here belongs to the Ten Rings."
After Raza left, Tony allowed himself to slump slightly, the constant strain of maintaining his facade taking its toll. Yinsen moved quietly around their workspace, organizing tools with practiced efficiency.
"He's right about one thing," Yinsen said softly. "The world is changing. But perhaps not in the way he imagines."
Tony turned back to his workbench, pulling fresh paper from their dwindling supply. The crude drawings of his escape plan - what would become the Mark I armor - seemed inadequate now. He began sketching modifications, new ideas inspired by the man in blue and red.
"The power source is key," he muttered, more to himself than Yinsen. "The arc reactor needs to be perfect. No room for error." He thought of Pepper, of how she'd look at him with that mixture of exasperation and concern whenever he pushed himself too hard. What would she think of him now, planning impossible things in a cave with a box of scraps?
"You're thinking of home," Yinsen observed, noting Tony's distraction.
"Thinking of people I've let down," Tony corrected. He sketched another circuit diagram, trying to optimize the reactor's output. "Rhodey... he was right behind my Humvee. Probably thinks I'm dead by now. And Pepper..." He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
"Tell me about them," Yinsen encouraged, recognizing Tony's need to talk. "These people who matter so much to you."
Tony's hand moved automatically, sketching and calculating while his mind drifted to better times. "Rhodey - Colonel James Rhodes - he's been keeping me out of trouble since MIT. Well, trying to, anyway. Military liaison to Stark Industries officially, but really... he's the brother I never had. Probably tearing apart every cave in Afghanistan looking for me."
He paused, looking at the new reactor design taking shape on his paper. "And Pepper... Virginia Pepper Potts. Walked into my office six years ago to point out an accounting error that would have cost the company millions. Hired her on the spot. She's... she's the most efficient, organized, terrifyingly competent person I've ever met. Keeps my whole life running while somehow putting up with all my..." He gestured vaguely at himself.
"She sounds remarkable," Yinsen said quietly. "Someone worth living for."
Tony's hand stilled on the paper. "I've wasted so much time," he said softly. "Building things that only destroy, living like nothing matters... And now there's a man flying around Metropolis saving lives while my weapons kill innocent people."
"Then perhaps it's time to build something different," Yinsen suggested. "Something that protects rather than destroys."
Tony looked at his designs with fresh eyes. The arc reactor wasn't just a replacement heart - it was a chance to literally rebuild himself from the inside out. And the armor... it could be more than just an escape plan.
"This changes everything," he told Yinsen, pulling fresh paper for new sketches. "The armor needs to be more than just protective. It needs to be precise, controlled. Not a weapon - a tool. Something that can help people, save lives."
He thought of Superman lifting that car so carefully, protecting even the criminals inside. Thought of all the young soldiers like Jimmy, dying from Stark weapons in the wrong hands. Thought of Pepper's face the last time he'd seen her, worry hidden behind professional efficiency.
"Power and control," he muttered, sketching faster now. "The reactor core here, reinforced housing... Flight capabilities would need to wait for a later iteration, but the base systems..." His mind raced with possibilities. "We need to think bigger. Not just about escaping, but about what comes after."
"After?" Yinsen raised an eyebrow, his hands steady as he helped Tony arrange their newly acquired materials.
"After we get out of here," Tony said with quiet certainty, spreading his designs across the workbench. The familiar smell of metal and oil filled the air as he sorted through components. "After I shut down the weapons division, after I track down every last Stark weapon and destroy it. After I find a way to make things right even if it takes every single remaining day of my life."
His hands moved with practiced efficiency, selecting tools and materials while his mind raced ahead. The arc reactor design was taking shape - not just as a power source, but as something more. A statement of purpose, a declaration that technology could preserve life instead of ending it.
"You're thinking beyond survival now," Yinsen observed, watching Tony work. "That's good. A man needs something to live for, not just something to live through."
Tony paused, holding up a palladium core housing. "You know what's funny? I've had the basic arc reactor design for years. It was my father's original concept - clean energy, limitless power. But the board said weapons were more profitable, so that's what Stark Industries became." He turned the housing over in his hands. "I told myself it was fine, that I was protecting American soldiers. But I was just taking the easy path."
On the television, footage of Superman's heroics played on repeat. Tony watched the Man of Steel catch a falling construction worker with impossible gentleness, the same hands that could bend steel carefully cradling a human life.
"Look at him," Tony gestured at the screen. "All that power, and he chooses to help people. No weapons, no destruction - just pure protection." He turned back to his workbench. "Maybe that's what Dad was trying to create with the original arc reactor. Not just power, but purpose."
They worked through the night, the cave's darkness held at bay by their work lights. Tony's mind had finally found its true purpose, every calculation and adjustment driven by a new clarity of vision. The arc reactor would be his new heart, yes, but also something more - a symbol of transformation, of power used to protect rather than destroy. And the armor... that would be his chance at redemption.
"Pass me that copper wire," Tony requested, his fingers flying over calculations. "The gauge needs to be exact. Too thick and the energy transfer will be inefficient, too thin and it'll melt under load."
Yinsen complied, then asked, "The power output you're planning - it's far more than you need just to keep the shrapnel out of your heart, isn't it?"
"Good catch," Tony smiled grimly. "The electromagnet only needs about 1.6 gigajoules to maintain the field. I'm building this to generate three times that."
"For the armor you're planning?"
"For everything I'm planning." Tony held up a piece of the armor's chest plate, already taking shape alongside the reactor components. "This isn't just about escaping anymore. Superman showing up, doing what he does... it's like the universe sending a message. Power comes with responsibility."
He reached for another tool, wincing as the car battery's cables pulled at his chest. "I've spent years being irresponsible with my power - my money, my influence, my genius. Built weapons because it was easy, because it's what everyone expected from Tony Stark. Time to build something harder. Something better."
As dawn broke over the Afghan mountains, pale light filtering through the cave's ventilation shafts, Tony held up his final design for the arc reactor. It was elegant in its complexity, efficient in a way his weapons never had been. This wasn't about destruction - this was about creation, about preservation of life.
"Beautiful," Yinsen murmured, examining the plans. "But the materials..."
"We'll requisition them piece by piece," Tony said, already mapping out their strategy. "Make them think it's all for the Jericho. We've got two months - that's plenty of time to build a better heart." He glanced at the television, now showing repeating footage of Superman's acts of heroism. "And maybe something more."
He pulled out fresh paper, beginning detailed schematics for the armor's joints. "The key is modularity. We need to build it in sections that look like missile components. The legs can be disguised as launch tubes, the chest plate as housing..."
"And they won't recognize what we're building?"
"That's the beauty of it," Tony grinned, his old confidence mixing with new purpose. "Most weapon designs are modular anyway. By the time they realize these pieces fit together differently than a Jericho, it'll be too late."
He sketched rapidly, ideas flowing faster now. "The armor needs to be more than just protection. It needs to be precise, controlled. Like how Superman doesn't just stop threats - he minimizes damage, protects bystanders. The repulsors in the hands can be calibrated for different force levels, the flight systems can..."
"Flight systems?" Yinsen interrupted, alarmed. "Tony, we're building an escape plan, not a superhero suit."
"Why not both?" Tony held up his design. "Look at the arc reactor output. With proper power distribution, flight is completely feasible. Not like Superman - we'll need repulsors, stabilizers - but the principles are sound."
He turned to their workbench, where the first pieces of both reactor and armor were taking shape. "The world's changing, Yinsen. Superman's just the beginning. There are going to be more threats, more challenges. Humanity needs to be ready."
"And Tony Stark will make them ready?" Yinsen asked carefully.
"Tony Stark will make himself ready first," Tony replied, his hand drifting to where the car battery connected to his chest. "Starting with a new heart. Then armor. Then..." he gestured at their cave prison, "freedom. After that... we'll see."
The cave was cold as always, the car battery hummed its constant reminder of mortality, but Tony Stark felt truly alive for the first time in years. He had a purpose now, a clear path forward. Superman might be able to lift cars and fly, but Tony would find his own way to help people.
He looked at their materials - missile parts, electronic components, sheets of metal waiting to be transformed. In his mind, they were already becoming something new. Something that could protect instead of destroy, save instead of kill.
First the arc reactor, then the armor, then... then he would begin to make things right. One step at a time, starting here in this cave with a box of scraps and a dream of redemption. The man who had gone into that weapons demonstration in the desert was dead. Someone new was being forged in this cave, alongside the reactor and armor.
"Time to get to work," he told Yinsen, and began to build his new heart. His hands moved with renewed purpose as he assembled the first components of what would become the Mark I armor, each piece a step toward his new future.
On the television, Superman continued his acts of heroism, showing the world what power looked like when wielded with compassion. In the cave, Tony Stark began his own journey toward that same truth, one piece of armor at a time.
The world had Superman now - a being of incredible power choosing to help humanity. Soon it would have something else: a man who built himself into a hero, starting with his heart and working his way out. Iron Man was being born in that cave, not just from metal and circuits, but from a fundamental change in Tony Stark's soul.
And somewhere in Metropolis, a figure in blue and red continued to show the world what a hero could be, unknowingly inspiring the birth of another.