Lois's scream cut through Clark's healing stasis like a blade, her voice carrying equal parts terror and defiance. His eyes snapped open, blazing crimson in the pod's crystal confines. The radiation damage still burned through his cells, but none of that mattered now. Nothing mattered except getting to her.
"Kal-El." Jor-El's hologram materialized as Clark pushed himself upright, crystal surfaces fracturing under his grip. "You haven't fully healed—"
"He has her." The words came out raw, his throat still rough from their Arctic battle. Every movement sent fresh waves of pain through his radiation-ravaged body, but he forced himself to stand. "I can hear her heartbeat. He's—" He stumbled, catching himself against the pod's edge. "I have to go."
"You'll die." His birth father's voice carried centuries of knowledge and a father's fear. "The radiation damage—"
"Then I die." Clark's eyes met the hologram's, carrying the same steel Martha Kent saw whenever he refused to back down from what was right. "But I won't let him hurt her. Or anyone else."
Krypto pressed against his leg, offering silent support even as worried whines escaped the shepherd's throat. The dog could smell the wrongness still lingering in Clark's cells, could sense how the triple radiation had changed something fundamental in his biology. But he could also feel the determination radiating from his friend in waves.
"There may be another way." Jor-El's form shifted, gesturing at something rising from the Fortress floor. "We've been... preparing."
The armor emerged from liquid crystal like a dream taking solid form, its surface catching the Fortress's light in ways that defied conventional physics. Where the ancient battle suit they'd started with had been purely functional, this was something else entirely—a perfect fusion of Kryptonian science and artistry.
"The original design was meant for war," Jor-El explained as Clark approached it. "We've repurposed it for healing. For protection." His projected features softened. "For hope."
Clark's hand traced the House of El's crest worked into the chest plate, power humming beneath his fingers. The symbol wasn't just decoration—it formed the central node of an intricate network designed to process and enhance solar energy. Gold accents flowed along limbs and joints, each one a focusing point for power that could rival small suns.
"The neural interface will sync with your biology," Jor-El continued as the armor began flowing apart, ready to accept its wearer. "It won't just protect you from the radiation—it will actively help you heal while fighting. Though the drain on your system will be... significant."
"I don't care about the cost." Clark's voice carried quiet certainty as the armor began forming around him. "Whatever it takes to stop him. To save her."
The sensation as the suit merged with his body was unlike anything he'd experienced—like liquid starlight flowing through his veins, power and purpose becoming one. Each piece clicked into place with musical precision, the whole greater than its parts. The House of El's crest pulsed with gathered energy, ready to channel everything he had and more.
"The solar absorption network is operating at maximum efficiency," Kelex reported, liquid metal form flowing around them as final adjustments were made. "But sir, the power requirements—"
"Will kill me if I push too hard?" Clark finished, watching the armor's surface ripple like quicksilver as it adapted to his movements. "Better me than her. Better me than anyone else he might hurt."
"Your capacity for sacrifice does you credit, my son." Jor-El's voice carried pride tinged with worry. "But remember—this suit isn't just armor. It's a tool for healing, for channeling the same solar energy that gives you your abilities. Use it wisely."
Clark flexed his hands, watching golden light race along the armor's seams. Every movement felt both familiar and new, power humming just beneath the surface. But none of that mattered as much as the sound still echoing in his ears—Lois's heartbeat, racing with fear but steady with determination.
"The radiation shielding should offer significant protection," Jor-El noted as final diagnostics completed. "Though not complete immunity."
"My son." His tone made Clark pause. "Remember—your greatest strength has never been your powers. It's your heart. Your ability to inspire hope even in darkness." The hologram's features softened. "Your mother would be proud of the man you've become. As am I."
Clark nodded, emotion thick in his throat. Then Lois's heartbeat jumped again, and everything else fell away. The armor responded to his urgency, power flooding his system as he prepared for launch.
"Watch over them," he told Krypto, scratching behind the shepherd's ears one last time. His faithful friend's whine carried clear worry, but also understanding. They'd been through too much together for the dog not to recognize this tone in his voice.
Then he was airborne, the armor's power combining with his own as he shot skyward. The sonic boom of his departure echoed across Arctic waste, ice cracking for miles around. The suit's energy merged with his abilities in ways that defied physics, golden light trailing his flight path as he broke atmosphere. At these speeds, the air itself became plasma, but the armor adapted instantly—its surface flowing like liquid metal to maintain optimal aerodynamics.
He could feel the cost building with each passing moment—the armor wasn't just enhancing his abilities; it was pushing them far beyond their natural limits. His cells screamed in protest as radiation damage fought against accelerated healing. But none of that mattered as Metropolis's familiar skyline appeared on the horizon.
Lois's voice echoed in his memory: "Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is let ourselves love someone completely, even when it scares us." He'd overheard her conversation with her mother, had felt his heart break at her fear of losing him. Now that fear was becoming reality in the worst possible way.
The armor's heads-up display painted targeting data across his vision as he approached, marking structural weaknesses and power signatures. Metallo's radiation output had actually increased since their Arctic battle, the three cores working together in ways that defied conventional physics. But the suit's shielding held, its own energy signature adapting to counter the worst effects.
"I'm coming," he whispered, though she couldn't possibly hear him at this distance. "Hold on, Lois. I'm coming."
—
Rhodey's knuckles whitened around his phone as Pepper's words sank in. The coastal highway blurred past his window, palm trees swaying in the evening breeze that suddenly felt too calm for the storm brewing in his chest.
"What do you mean, he paid to have Tony killed?" The words felt wrong in his mouth, like speaking a language he'd never learned. Through the speaker, he could hear the edge of panic in Pepper's voice, her usual composure cracking. "Pepper, slow down. Why would Obadiah..."
He caught movement in his rearview mirror - black SUVs with government plates moving with deliberate purpose. Something about their formation made his military instincts prickle.
"Okay, where's Tony now?"
"I don't know." Pepper's voice carried that particular strain he'd learned to recognize - the one that meant Tony was in real trouble, not just his usual chaos. "He's not answering his phone." A pause, then softer: "Please go over there and make sure everything's okay."
Rhodey was already pulling a U-turn, his truck's tires squealing against Malibu asphalt. "I'm on my way. Just... be careful, Pepper."
"Thank you, Rhodey." He could hear car doors in the background, voices that carried that particular government efficiency. "I know a shortcut."
The line went dead as Rhodey pressed down harder on the accelerator. His mind raced through implications - weapons deals, corporate takeovers, the Arc Reactor technology that had changed everything. All the pieces had been there, but he'd been too focused on Tony's changes since Afghanistan to see the bigger picture forming.
Across town, Tony's world had narrowed to single breaths and inches of floor. The elevator seemed to move with deliberate slowness as he slumped against its wall, each heartbeat a countdown he couldn't afford to track. Sweat soaked through his shirt, pain spreading from the empty cavity in his chest like poison through his veins.
When the doors finally opened to his workshop, the distance to his desk might as well have been miles. He stumbled out, vision already starting to blur at the edges. But there - gleaming under workshop lights like salvation itself - was the Arc Reactor Pepper had turned into art. The same one he'd dismissed as sentiment, now his only chance at survival.
His legs gave out before he'd made it halfway, sending him sprawling across concrete that felt colder than it should. Some distant part of his mind noted that shock was setting in, but he forced himself to focus on what mattered: Move. Breathe. Survive.
He dragged himself forward using anything he could reach - workbenches, tool carts, the familiar shapes of his cars that now felt like mountains to climb around. Each movement sent fresh waves of agony through his chest as the shrapnel inched closer to his heart. The irony wasn't lost on him - dying from the same weapons that had given him purpose in that cave.
The plastic bin by his desk became a lifeline as he pulled himself up, fingers scrabbling for purchase on smooth surfaces. He could see the Reactor now, its soft blue glow promising life if he could just reach it. Just a few more inches...
His strength finally gave out completely, sending him crashing onto his back. The ceiling spun above him as he gasped for breaths that felt thinner with each passing second. After everything - Afghanistan, the suit, Gulmira - this was how Tony Stark would die. Alone in his workshop, betrayed by the closest thing he'd had to a father since losing his own.
Then came a sound that cut through his fading consciousness - the familiar whir of servos that had been part of his life for so long he sometimes forgot to hear it. DUM-E's arm descended into view, Pepper's gift clutched carefully in its claw like an offering. The robot he'd built with fumbling teenage hands, that he'd threatened to donate to community college a thousand times, now holding his salvation.
Tony reached up with trembling fingers, his vision tunneling to that perfect blue glow. All the times he'd mocked DUM-E's clumsy attempts to help, and now...
"Good boy," he whispered as his fingers closed around the Reactor and smashed it.
—
Stane's fingers traced the Arc Reactor's edges with something close to reverence. In the harsh industrial lighting of his makeshift lab, the device's blue glow painted his features in shades of obsession. The suit loomed before him like some ancient war god - his answer to Tony's cave-born creation, but evolved beyond those crude beginnings.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured to no one, positioning the reactor with surgical precision. Each connection had to be perfect - no room for error when dealing with power that could level cities. The device slid home with a satisfying click, energy immediately flooding the prototype's systems.
Blue light raced through previously dark channels as the suit came alive. Stane's smile grew wider as displays lit up, showing power levels that shouldn't be possible from something this small. All those years watching Tony squander his genius on trivial pursuits, and now... it was his time.
—
Across town, Rhodey's entrance shattered the mansion's silence. "Tony?" His voice echoed off marble and glass, carrying equal parts urgency and fear. When no response came, he took the workshop stairs two at a time. "Tony! TONY!"
The sight that greeted him made his blood run cold. Tony lay motionless on the workshop floor, tools scattered around him like some bizarre crime scene. For one terrible moment, Rhodey thought he was too late.
"Tony!" He dropped to his knees beside his friend, rolling him over with careful movements born from too many battlefield triage situations. "You okay?"
Tony's hand shot out, grabbing Rhodey's arm with desperate strength. His face was pale, but color was already starting to return as the new reactor hummed in his chest. "Where's Pepper?"
"She's fine." Rhodey helped him sit up, noting how Tony's eyes kept darting toward the garage exit. "She's with five agents. They're about to arrest Obadiah."
The look that crossed Tony's face made Rhodey's combat instincts scream. He knew that expression - had seen it in Afghanistan when Tony first showed him the suit. It meant things were about to get very complicated.
"That's not gonna be enough." Tony pushed himself up, each movement becoming steadier as the reactor restored power to his systems. The determination in his voice carried echoes of the cave - that same steel that had kept him alive when everyone else thought he was dead.
—
Stark Industries' restricted parking. Pepper's hands shook slightly as she swiped her access card, but her spine remained straight. The agents moved with practiced efficiency, Coulson's calm presence beside her somehow making everything feel both more real and more surreal.
The factory's nighttime silence felt wrong - too empty, too still. Their footsteps echoed off industrial walls as they made their way deeper into the complex. Every shadow seemed to hide threats, every distant machine noise making Pepper's heart jump.
"Section 16," she muttered, more to steady herself than for actual guidance. The sign appeared ahead like some ominous marker. "Section 16. There it is."
Her access card - the same one that had opened every door in this facility for years - just blinked red. Again. Again. "My key's not working." The words came out shakier than she'd intended. "It's not opening the door."
Coulson stepped forward, producing what looked like a small metal disk. Pepper's eyes widened as she recognized the SHIELD logo etched into its surface. "Oh, wow! What's that?" The words tumbled out, nervous energy making her babble. "It's, like, a little device. It's, like, a thing that's going to pick the lock?"
"You might want to take a few steps back." Coulson's tone remained perfectly neutral, as if he wasn't about to breach a secure facility to stop a corporate takeover involving experimental weapons.
The other agents moved with quiet efficiency, taking positions that spoke of extensive training. Pepper retreated further than suggested, hands already rising to cover her ears. Coulson just stood there, arms folded, looking for all the world like he was waiting for a bus rather than about to detonate explosives.
The device's soft beep seemed impossibly loud in the factory silence. Then came the controlled explosion - more precise than destructive, but still enough to make Pepper jump despite being prepared for it.
Inside the lab, Stane's head snapped up at the sound. His eyes narrowed as he turned, calculations already running behind that carefully maintained mask of corporate confidence. They'd found him sooner than expected, but it didn't matter. Everything was already in motion.
Rhodey had seen a lot of crazy shit in his years with the Air Force. Experimental aircraft that cost more than small countries. Weapons that seemed impossible. But watching his best friend get sealed into a suit of flying armor in the middle of his Malibu workshop? That was something else entirely.
The robots Tony had built moved around him like they were part of him, which in a way they were. Each piece of the suit locked home with practiced precision – no hesitation, no fumbling, just smooth motion that spoke of countless trial runs. This wasn't the cobbled-together armor Rhodey had seen in that cave. This was something that belonged in another century.
"That's the coolest thing I've ever seen." The words came out before he could stop them, making him feel like a kid at an air show again.
Tony's grin flashed through the half-assembled helmet. "Not bad, huh?" There was that familiar Stark swagger, but underneath it Rhodey could hear the tension. The knowledge that Pepper was walking into something way over her head. "Let's do it."
Without warning, Tony raised his arm and fired. The repulsor blast caught one of his cars dead center, sending it skidding sideways with a screech of protesting metal. The casual display of power made Rhodey's throat go dry. If Stane had something like this...
"You need me to do anything else?" He tried to keep his voice steady.
The faceplate snapped down with a final metallic click. "Keep the skies clear." Then Tony was gone, repulsors lighting up the workshop as he shot through the hole in his ceiling – and wasn't that just perfect Tony Stark, having a pre-existing exit route for his secret superhero suit.
The silence he left behind felt heavy. Rhodey looked at the Mark II again, its silver surface almost glowing in the workshop lights. His fingers actually twitched before twenty years of military discipline kicked in.
"Next time, baby," he promised softly. Then he grabbed the keys to Tony's Audi R8, because if you're going to chase your best friend in a flying suit of armor, might as well do it in style and gunned the engine.
—
The LuthorCorp boardroom's mahogany table lay shattered, its pieces scattered like shrapnel across marble floors that had seen too much blood today. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Metropolis spread out in a glittering tapestry of lights and shadows, emergency vehicles' strobes painting everything in alternating red and blue.
"Daddy, please." Amy's voice cracked as she tried to step forward, Sarah's arms tightening protectively around their daughter. "You're scaring me."
Metallo's head snapped toward them with that horrible mechanical precision, his chrome features twisting into something that might have been meant as a smile. The radiation from his chest cores pulsed erratically, casting sickly shadows that made the eight-year-old flinch.
"Scared?" Static crackled through his vocal processors. "Like I was scared waking up in that VA hospital? Feeling phantom limbs that weren't there anymore?" His laugh carried pure silicon madness. "They made me better, Amy. Made me stronger than any human could ever dream of being."
"John." Sarah's voice remained steady despite her obvious fear, maternal instinct overriding terror as she positioned herself between their daughter and what remained of her ex-husband. "This isn't you. The radiation, whatever they did to you—it's changing you."
"Changed?" Panels slid open across his frame, revealing weapons that hummed with that terrible tri-colored energy. "They fixed me. Made me into something beyond human limitation. Beyond pain." His head tilted at that unnatural angle. "Don't you see? I'm evolving."
Lois watched the exchange from where she knelt beside Agent Chen's broken body, fingers pressed against the woman's neck searching for a pulse that wasn't there. Five agents dead already, their blood seeping into imported marble while Metallo ranted about evolution and betrayal.
Through the windows, she could see snipers taking position on neighboring buildings. Hawkeye's distinctive silhouette was barely visible on the Wayne Enterprises tower, bow drawn and waiting. But she knew their weapons would be useless against Metallo's enhanced frame. Even if they could get a clear shot through the radiation interference, conventional ammunition just sparked off his chrome shell.
"Agent Barton is in position." The words crackled through the earpiece Faraday had slipped her before Metallo's attack. "Negative on targeting solution - radiation's playing hell with our optics."
"Tell them to stand down," Lois subvocalized, remembering how bullets had just pinged off Metallo during his rampage through her apartment. "They'll just make him angry."
A flash of movement caught her attention - Sarah trying to guide Amy toward the conference room's secondary exit while Metallo was distracted examining his own reflection in the shattered windows. The little girl's sneakers squeaked against marble, the sound impossibly loud in the tense silence.
Metallo's head snapped around faster than any human neck could move. "Going somewhere?" The words came out like grinding gears. "The family reunion's just getting started."
"John, please." Sarah's voice cracked as she pushed Amy behind her. "She's your daughter. Whatever's happening to you, whatever they did—she's still your little girl."
Something flickered across those mechanical features - a ghost of the man who used to push Amy on park swings, who'd read her bedtime stories even after the divorce. But then the cores in his chest pulsed brighter, and that moment of humanity drowned in waves of sickly light.
"My little girl?" He advanced with terrible grace, each step leaving impressions in the marble floor. "The one who didn't recognize her own father when he came home? Who cried when these hands tried to hold her?"
"Because you were hurting!" Amy's voice carried that particular courage of children who still believe they can reach anyone with enough love. "But Mommy said it wasn't your fault - that the war changed you, but you were still my daddy inside."
Metallo froze, his chrome features going unnaturally still. For a moment, the only sound was the distant wail of sirens and the hum of his internal systems. Then his laugh shattered the silence - a sound like breaking glass filtered through steel vocal cords.
"Changed me?" The radiation pouring off him made the air itself seem wrong. "The war just started the process. Showed me what humanity really is - weak, fragile, limited by flesh and bone." His chest plate split open wider, cores spinning faster. "LuthorCorp finished what the war began. Made me into something beyond human weakness."
The cores' light painted everything in shades of nightmare as he turned toward the windows again. Below, military units were establishing a perimeter, their weapons looking like toys against what he'd become. General Lane's voice carried faintly through tactical frequencies, trying to coordinate a response to a threat none of them were equipped to handle.
"Your father's down there," Metallo said conversationally, his sensors picking up Lois's elevated heartbeat. "The great General Lane, who sent men like me to die in forgotten wars while creatures like Superman played at being human." His head tilted at that horrible mechanical angle. "Should we invite him up? Let him watch what happens when the soldiers he discarded evolve beyond his control?"
"They're evacuating the building," Lois said carefully, drawing his attention away from Sarah's renewed attempts to move Amy toward the exit. "There are still civilians—"
"Civilians?" The word came out like static through his damaged vocals. "Like the civilians who stared at my prosthetics? Who whispered behind my back when I couldn't hold my own daughter?" His chrome fingers traced patterns in Agent Wilson's blood on the floor. "They're all civilians until the war comes home. Until they have to face what their comfort costs."
A noise from the hallway made everyone freeze - the sharp crack of a firing pin followed by cursing in what sounded like Russian. Metallo's head snapped toward the sound, panels opening across his frame as targeting systems engaged.
"More agents?" His laugh carried pure machine malice. "Good. I was starting to get bored."
The door exploded inward as a SHIELD strike team breached, flash-bangs filling the room with light and sound that would have incapacitated any human target. But Metallo just stood there, energy crackling around his frame as his systems adapted.
"Primitive weapons." He caught the first agent's rifle, crushing it like paper before throwing the man through plate glass with casual strength. "Is this really the best your organizations can offer?"
The team's leader - Lois recognized her as Maria Hill from Pentagon briefings - maintained professional calm even as her people fell. "Corbin! Stand down or we will use lethal force!"
"Lethal force?" Metallo's laugh echoed off marble walls as he absorbed another burst of gunfire without flinching. "Your weapons cannot harm me. Your tactics cannot stop me." His chest cores pulsed brighter. "I am beyond such human limitations now."
The blast that followed lit up half of downtown Metropolis. Hill managed to dive clear, but three of her agents weren't as lucky. Their bodies hit the wall with wet sounds that made Amy scream, Sarah barely managing to cover their daughter's eyes.
"Stop it!" Lois found herself moving forward despite every survival instinct screaming at her. "They're just doing their jobs, John. Like you used to do."
"Jobs?" The word came out like broken glass through his speakers. "Following orders? Being good little soldiers?" His chrome features twisted in what once might have been as a smile. "I followed orders too. Right up until they left me bleeding in the sand."
Through her earpiece, she could hear tactical channels exploding with chatter. Hill's team had been their best non-powered option - with them neutralized, the situation was rapidly spiraling beyond conventional response capabilities.
"Sir, Barton reports he might have a shot," someone reported to Agent Carter, voice tight with controlled panic. "Experimental EMP arrow, might disrupt his systems long enough for—"
"Negative," Carter's response carried grim certainty. "The radiation signature is off the charts. It would cook off any electronics before they got close. We need a different solution."
"Like your alien god?" Metallo's voice made everyone freeze - his enhanced hearing picking up the tactical frequencies easily. "The one who I left broken in Arctic ice?" His laugh carried pure silicon madness. "Let him come. Let him see what real power looks like."
"John." Sarah's voice cut through his rant, maternal steel wrapped around desperate hope. "Remember Amy's sixth birthday? How you spent three days building that dollhouse because the store-bought ones weren't special enough?" She took a careful step forward, keeping their daughter behind her. "Remember how proud she was showing it to her friends? Telling everyone her daddy made it just for her?"
Something changed in Metallo's posture - a barely perceptible shift that made the radiation pouring off him flicker. "The dollhouse..." Static interference crackled through his vocals. "I couldn't... my hands weren't steady enough to paint the tiny details..."
"So I helped," Sarah pressed, sensing the moment of connection. "We stayed up all night getting those little flowers just right. Because that's who you are, John. A father who'd do anything to make his little girl smile."
"Daddy?" Amy peeked around her mother, eyes bright with tears but voice steady. "Remember when you taught me to ride my bike? How you promised you wouldn't let go until I was ready?"
Metallo's chrome features went unnaturally still. Through gaps in his synthetic skin, Lois could see internal components spinning faster, like his systems were struggling to process the memories.
"I..." The word came out garbled, mechanical distortion fighting against something more human. "The park... you were so scared of falling..."
"But you didn't let me fall." Amy took another step forward despite Sarah's attempt to hold her back. "You said sometimes being brave means trying even when we're scared. That's what made you a hero - not because you were never afraid, but because you did the right thing anyway."
The cores in Metallo's chest pulsed erratically, their light taking on strange patterns as his internal conflict manifested physically. "A hero..." His laugh carried more pain than madness now. "Heroes don't come home broken. Don't make their daughters cry when they try to hug them."
"You weren't broken." Sarah's voice cracked slightly. "You were hurting. And instead of helping you heal, they turned that pain into a weapon." She gestured at his chrome frame, at the radiation still pouring off him in waves. "This isn't healing, John. This is them trying to control you through your pain."
For a moment, something almost human flickered across those mechanical features. The radiation dimmed slightly as memory fought against programming, the man he'd been struggling against what they'd made him become.
Then an arrow whistled through the broken windows, its specialized tip already deploying countermeasures designed to penetrate his defenses. Metallo's hand snapped up faster than human eyes could track, catching the projectile inches from his chest. The EMP warhead detonated harmlessly against his enhanced frame.
"Sloppy." His voice carried pure machine coldness now as he crushed the arrow's remains. "Letting sentiment cloud tactical judgment. Creating openings that could be exploited." The cores blazed brighter as targeting systems reengaged. "I expected better from SHIELD's finest."
"Hawkeye, fall back!" Hill's voice crackled through tactical frequencies. "Target is—"
The beam that shot from Metallo's chest carved through three buildings before striking the sniper's position. Only Barton's superhuman reflexes saved him, but the Wayne Enterprises tower's upper floors weren't as lucky. Glass and steel rained down as structural supports gave way, emergency systems already beginning evacuation procedures.
"You see?" Metallo's laugh echoed off marble walls as he turned back to his hostages. "This is what your heroes really are - children playing with toys against power they can't comprehend." His chrome features twisted in what might have been meant as a smile. "But I understand power now. What it truly means to evolve beyond human limitation."
Amy's scream cut through his rant as part of the ceiling collapsed, Sarah barely managing to pull their daughter clear. Blood ran down the mother's arm where debris had struck, but she kept herself between Amy and what remained of her ex-husband.
"John, please." Her voice shook but didn't break. "You're hurting people. This isn't justice or evolution - it's just pain creating more pain."
"Pain?" The word came out like grinding gears. "Pain is what made me strong. What showed me the truth about human weakness." His chest cores spun faster, radiation making the air itself seem wrong. "And now everyone will understand that truth. Starting with the people who thought they could control me."
Through her earpiece, Lois could hear tactical channels dissolving into chaos. The structural damage to surrounding buildings was forcing evacuation of civilian areas, stretching emergency resources that were already overwhelmed. And somewhere out there, Clark was still recovering from their Arctic battle, unaware that the woman he loved was watching his enemy lose the last threads of his humanity.
"They're not going to stop coming," she said quietly, drawing Metallo's attention. "Every agent, every soldier - they'll keep trying to save us because that's what humans do. We protect each other, even against impossible odds."
"Protect?" Metallo's laugh carried pure silicon madness. "Like they protected me in Kandahar? Like they protected any of us who bled for their comfortable lives?" His chrome fingers flexed, synthetic skin rippling like liquid mercury. "Humanity only understands protection through power. Through force that cannot be ignored."
"That's not true." Amy's voice carried that particular courage born from desperate love. "You protected me without hurting anyone. You were my hero because you were kind, not because you were strong."
Something changed in Metallo's posture - a barely perceptible shift that made the radiation flicker again. For a moment, Lois could almost see the man who'd won medals for saving his unit, who'd built dollhouses for his daughter's smile.
Then the cores pulsed brighter, drowning that humanity in waves of sickly light. "Your hero died in the sand," he said, voice pure machine now. "What stands before you is evolution. The next step beyond human weakness." His targeting systems locked onto Sarah with deadly precision. "And you're about to help demonstrate that evolution to everyone watching."
"John, no—" Sarah's words cut off in a choked gasp as chrome fingers wrapped around her throat, lifting her off the ground with terrible strength.
"Mommy!" Amy's scream echoed off marble walls as she tried to reach her mother, Lois barely managing to hold the girl back.
"Watch closely," Metallo told his daughter, studying Sarah's struggles with cold machine logic. "This is what humanity really is - fragile mechanisms, easily broken. The same weakness I transcended through pain and radiation."
"Please," Sarah managed through his crushing grip. "For Amy... please..."
Blood dripped onto pristine marble as Lois held their daughter, unable to look away from what John Corbin had become. Through her earpiece, she could hear tactical channels exploding with desperate plans, with calls for backup that wouldn't arrive in time.
"Superman..." Amy's prayer came out between sobs. "Please... help..."