Monday morning found them back in Metropolis, the familiar chaos of the Daily Planet newsroom a stark contrast to the peaceful Kansas farmhouse they'd left behind. Clark settled at his desk, already sorting through assignments and emails that had accumulated during their extended weekend away.
"Kent! Lane!" Perry's voice boomed across the bullpen. "My office, now!"
They exchanged glances, Lois shrugging as if to say "your guess is as good as mine" before they made their way to the editor's glass-walled domain.
Inside, Perry was not alone. A tall man in an immaculately tailored suit stood examining the framed front pages that decorated Perry's wall, his back to the door. When he turned, Clark found himself face to face with Bruce Wayne.
"Ah, there they are," Perry announced with unusual enthusiasm. "My star reporters. Lane, Kent. I'd like you to meet Bruce Wayne."
"We've met," Bruce said smoothly, extending his hand to Lois first. "Ms. Lane's reputation precedes her, of course."
"Mr. Wayne," Lois replied, professional but cautious. "This is a surprise."
"A pleasant one, I hope." Bruce turned to Clark, his handshake firm and his expression revealing nothing beyond polite interest. "Mr. Kent. Your coverage of the Superman-Metallo confrontation was exceptional."
"Thank you," Clark adjusted his glasses, playing his role perfectly. Only the slightest twitch of Bruce's eyebrow betrayed their shared secret. "I try to focus on the people affected, not just the spectacle."
"Which is exactly why I'm here," Bruce turned back to Perry. "As I was explaining to Mr. White, Wayne Enterprises has been looking to diversify its media holdings for some time. Quality journalism is becoming increasingly rare in today's click-driven landscape."
"You're buying the Planet?" Lois blurted, her reporter's instincts clearly on high alert.
Bruce's smile was carefully calibrated—charming but restrained. "The paperwork was finalized this morning. I wanted to assure the staff personally that this change in ownership won't affect editorial independence. In fact, I'm hoping to expand your investigative resources."
Clark watched the interplay carefully, understanding the game Bruce was playing. By purchasing the Planet, he'd gained a legitimate reason to maintain contact with both Clark and Lois, while also acquiring a platform that could shape public perception of metahuman activities.
"That's... very generous," Clark said, choosing his words carefully.
"Not generosity, Mr. Kent. Good business." Bruce turned, surveying the newsroom through Perry's windows. "The Planet has a reputation for integrity at a time when truth is increasingly devalued. I consider that an asset worth protecting."
The meeting continued with discussions of budget expansions, digital initiatives, and staff reassurances. Through it all, Clark noticed how Bruce managed to seem simultaneously disinterested in details while missing nothing—the same calculated performance he'd witnessed in Gulmira.
When they finally escaped Perry's office, Lois pulled Clark into the supply closet, closing the door firmly behind them.
"Okay, what was that all about?" she demanded in a hushed voice. "Is Batman buying newspapers now?"
"Looks that way," Clark replied, equally quiet despite knowing Bruce had already left the building. "Though I suspect his interest is less in journalism and more in maintaining information channels."
"Information about you, you mean."
"Among other things." Clark sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Bruce is... cautious. He likes to monitor potential threats."
"And Superman is a potential threat?" Lois crossed her arms, indignation clear in her expression.
"From his perspective? Absolutely." Clark leaned against the shelving. "A nearly invulnerable alien with godlike powers, answerable to no one? I'd be concerned too."
"Except you're answerable to your conscience. And to me," she added with a pointed look. "You'd never abuse your powers."
"Bruce doesn't know that. Not really. He's putting fail-safes in place, just in case."
Lois seemed to consider this, her reporter's mind clearly processing implications. "And the Planet gives him a way to keep tabs on Superman activities while also influencing how you're portrayed in the media."
"Exactly."
"That's... actually pretty smart," she admitted reluctantly. "Paranoid and controlling, but smart." She sighed, reaching for the door. "I guess I'd better get used to having Batman as my boss."
Clark caught her hand, pulling her back for a quick kiss. "Look at the bright side—his resources might help us finally get those building safety violations at LuthorCorp exposed."
Her eyes lit up at that. "You're right. Wayne Enterprises versus LuthorCorp—now that's a story worth covering."
As they returned to their desks, Clark noticed a small package that hadn't been there before. Plain brown wrapping, no return address, but his enhanced vision revealed a lead-lined case inside. A note in precise handwriting simply read: "For emergencies. —B"
Inside the case, nestled in custom foam, lay a small communication device—sleeker than any commercially available technology, emblazoned with the Wayne Enterprises logo.
"What's that?" Lois asked, peering over his shoulder.
"I think," Clark said slowly, "it's Bruce's version of a friendship bracelet."
Her laughter drew glances from across the newsroom, a sound so genuinely delighted that Clark couldn't help smiling in response. This was what he'd been missing all those years of keeping everyone at arm's length—the simple joy of sharing both lives with someone who understood.
"Lane! Kent!" Jimmy nearly collided with Clark's desk, camera swinging wildly around his neck. "Conference room, now! Lex Luthor's about to make a statement on LNN!"
The newsroom erupted into motion, reporters abandoning phones mid-conversation to crowd around the wall of monitors. Clark followed Lois to the conference room, where Perry was already increasing the volume on the central screen.
"This is Catherine Grant reporting live from LuthorCorp Plaza," Cat's voice rang out from the television. She stood on the steps of the gleaming building, her trademark red dress a stark contrast to the sea of black suits behind her. "We're moments away from Lex Luthor's first official press conference as interim CEO following the tragic death of his father during what authorities are now calling a 'catastrophic equipment malfunction' involving LuthorCorp's cybernetic prototype."
The camera panned to show the assembled press, then cut to the empty podium emblazoned with the LuthorCorp logo.
"Sources within the company suggest we may be hearing about major restructuring today," Cat continued, her perfect smile never faltering. "After federal investigators uncovered evidence of illegal weapons programs reportedly developed without proper oversight or safety protocols."
"Ten bucks says he throws his dead father under the bus completely," Ron Troupe muttered from beside Clark.
"No bet," Lois replied, her eyes never leaving the screen. "The question is whether anyone will actually believe the son had no idea what daddy was doing."
The podium area suddenly filled with corporate security, followed by Mercy Graves in an impeccably tailored suit. She scanned the crowd with practiced precision before nodding to someone off-camera. A moment later, Lex Luthor emerged.
Clark studied him carefully, a complex mix of emotions washing over him. This wasn't the same Lex he'd befriended during their university days—the brilliant mind who'd engaged him in philosophical debates over coffee, who'd challenged his thinking about ethics and innovation. Nor was he the tense, calculating figure Clark had glimpsed during the Metallo incident, watching his father's plans unravel with barely concealed anticipation. This Lex appeared appropriately somber, his dark suit free of any ostentation, his posture conveying both confidence and humility.
It was, Clark thought, a masterful performance from a man he once considered a friend.
"Good afternoon," Lex began, his voice carrying the perfect note of gravity. "The past few weeks have been a time of profound reflection for both myself and LuthorCorp as an institution. The revelations regarding my father's unauthorized weapons programs and his involvement with the cyberneticist John Corbin represent a betrayal of public trust that cannot be overlooked or minimized."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle across the assembled press.
"I speak to you today not just as Lionel Luthor's son, but as someone who made the difficult decision to become a whistleblower against his own father."
A murmur rippled through the reporters. Clark glanced at Lois, whose eyebrows had shot up in surprise.
"That's a bold claim," she whispered.
"For the past six months," Lex continued, "I have been quietly gathering evidence of ethical violations within our weapons division—programs developed without board approval, experimental technologies tested without proper safety protocols, and most disturbingly, the manipulation of a wounded veteran for the purposes of weaponizing alien mineral samples."
The camera cut to show the press reaction—a mix of skepticism and fascination that matched the expressions around the Daily Planet conference room.
"Well, he's got balls, I'll give him that," Perry muttered, arms crossed as he watched.
"Two weeks before the Metallo incident, I provided key documentation to federal investigators," Lex said, his expression grave. "Unfortunately, my father discovered my actions and accelerated his timeline, leading to the premature deployment of the Corbin prototype and the tragic consequences that followed."
"Convenient timing," Clark said quietly, remembering what Batman had discovered about Lex's own involvement in enhancing Metallo's radiation core. He couldn't reconcile this polished, apparently principled executive with the college friend who'd once passionately argued that "the truth is always more valuable than comfortable lies." The Lex he'd known at Metropolis University would never have staged such an elaborate deception—or perhaps, Clark thought grimly, he'd simply been deceived about Lex's true nature all along.
Lex shifted his stance slightly, his voice taking on a note of restrained emotion. "I failed John Corbin. We all failed him. A decorated soldier returned from combat with physical and psychological wounds, only to be exploited by corporate interests more concerned with weapons applications than human dignity."
The camera zoomed in on Lex's face, capturing what appeared to be genuine regret in his eyes. Only Clark's enhanced vision caught the subtle tells that betrayed the calculated nature of each expression—the precise tension in facial muscles, the carefully controlled breathing pattern. These were the same tells he'd noticed during their university debates, when Lex would craft arguments he didn't fully believe in, simply to test Clark's responses.
"And while I make no excuses for the company's failures," Lex continued, "I must acknowledge that without Superman's intervention, the toll in human lives would have been immeasurably higher."
Clark felt Lois's eyes on him, but kept his expression neutral as Lex delivered what was clearly a rehearsed acknowledgment.
"Despite our philosophical differences regarding accountability and oversight of metahuman activities," Lex said with the slightest edge entering his voice, "I am... grateful for Superman's actions that night. They saved countless lives, including many LuthorCorp employees."
"Talk about damning with faint praise," Jimmy whispered.
On screen, Lex straightened his already perfect posture. "Which brings me to the future. Today marks not just a change in leadership, but a fundamental reimagining of what this company can and should be."
He gestured to an aide who stepped forward with a remote. Behind Lex, the massive digital display shifted from the traditional LuthorCorp logo to something new—sleeker, more modern, with "LEXCORP" prominently displayed.
"Effective immediately, LuthorCorp will become LexCorp," he announced. "This isn't merely a cosmetic change, but a reflection of our new direction. We are divesting completely from weapons manufacturing and military contracts to focus on technologies that enhance human potential rather than threaten it."
The screen behind him shifted to show graphics of renewable energy facilities, medical devices, and advanced civilian transportation systems.
"Our first initiatives will include transferring our Metropolis weapons manufacturing facilities to produce affordable prosthetics for veterans," Lex continued as the slides changed. "The facilities where the Corbin prototype was developed will be converted into a cutting-edge research hospital specializing in combat trauma and rehabilitation, with free services for all veterans."
"That's... actually impressive," Lois admitted reluctantly, though her skeptical frown remained.
"The John Corbin Memorial Center," Lex announced, pausing again for effect. "Will open its doors within six months, staffed by the world's leading experts in trauma recovery, prosthetic development, and psychological support for returning soldiers."
Clark watched the assembled reporters nodding in approval, already won over by Lex's apparent sincerity and concrete plans.
"Additionally," Lex continued, "I am establishing an independent ethics committee with oversight authority for all LexCorp research. This committee will include representatives from the scientific community, medical ethics experts, and veteran advocacy groups. Their quarterly reports will be made public to ensure complete transparency."
The camera cut to Cat Grant, whose professional smile couldn't quite hide her impressed reaction. "Mr. Luthor, this represents a complete reversal of your father's policies. How can the public be confident these aren't simply PR measures to distance yourself from the scandal?"
Lex accepted the challenge with grace. "A fair question, Ms. Grant. Ultimately, our actions will speak louder than any press conference. But as a demonstration of our commitment, I'm announcing today that I'm personally donating fifty percent of my inheritance approximately three billion dollars to establish a victim compensation fund for those harmed by Metallo's rampage."
Gasps echoed through both the press conference and the Daily Planet conference room.
"Three billion," Ron whistled quietly. "That's one expensive mea culpa."
"Or one expensive rebrand," Lois countered under her breath.
Another reporter called out, "Mr. Luthor, there are rumors that your father had established a partnership with Obadiah Stane of Stark Industries prior to both men's deaths. Can you confirm whether these weapons programs were jointly developed?"
A shadow passed over Lex's features—so briefly that only Clark caught it.
"We're still investigating the full extent of my father's unauthorized activities," Lex replied smoothly. "Any evidence of corporate espionage or illegal partnerships will be provided to the appropriate authorities. Next question?"
"Mr. Luthor!" Another voice rang out. "Your father was known for his adversarial stance toward Superman. Does LexCorp plan to continue monitoring metahuman activities?"
At this, Lex allowed himself a small, measured smile. "LexCorp recognizes that we live in a changing world. The emergence of individuals with extraordinary abilities raises legitimate questions about oversight and accountability. While we are not pursuing weapons development, we do believe in the importance of understanding these phenomena from a scientific perspective."
His gaze seemed to look directly into the camera and by extension, to everyone watching. "I believe humanity must chart its own course, not become dependent on godlike protectors who answer to no one. But that's a philosophical position, not a military one."
"There it is," Clark murmured. "The real Lex, just for a second."
The press conference continued for another twenty minutes, with Lex deftly handling questions about corporate restructuring, employee reassurances, and market projections. Throughout, he maintained the perfect balance of humility about past mistakes and confidence about future direction.
When it finally concluded, Perry muted the television and turned to his assembled staff. "Well? Impressions?"
"He's convincing," Steve Lombard offered with a shrug. "Seems genuinely disgusted by what his old man was doing."
"Too convincing," Lois countered. "Three billion in victim compensation? Complete restructuring? John Corbin Memorial Center? It's like he had this entire rebrand ready to go the moment daddy was out of the picture."
"You think he planned it?" Jimmy asked, eyes wide. "Like, all of it?"
"I think," Clark said carefully, "that Lex Luthor is extraordinarily prepared for someone who claims to have been blindsided by his father's activities."
Perry nodded thoughtfully. "The timing is convenient. And that 'whistleblower' claim is awfully hard to verify now that the primary suspect is conveniently deceased."
"Exactly," Lois jumped in. "Where was all this whistleblowing before Metallo went on a rampage? Why not go public sooner if he had evidence of illegal weapons programs?"
"Unless he needed his father eliminated first," Clark suggested quietly, earning surprised looks from his colleagues. "Politically speaking," he added quickly.
Perry clapped his hands together. "Alright, people, we've got our angle. Lane, Kent—I want you digging into this whistleblower claim. Find anyone who can corroborate Luthor Junior's story. If he really was working with federal investigators, someone can verify it."
"On it, Chief," Lois replied, already gathering her notes.
"Troupe follow the money. Three billion for victims sounds generous, but I want to know if there are strings attached. Lombard reach out to your military contacts about this veterans' center. Is it legitimate or just a PR stunt?"
As they filed out of the conference room, Clark felt his phone vibrate with a text from Bruce: "Whistleblower claim unlikely. Will send evidence."
"What's that?" Lois asked, noticing his expression change.
Clark pocketed the phone with a small smile. "Just our new boss offering some investigative assistance."
The remainder of the day passed in a whirlwind of phone calls, source meetings, and research as they worked to untangle the truth behind Lex's polished narrative. By evening, they'd completed their follow-up piece on LexCorp's restructuring, focusing on the contrast between Lex's public statements and the troubling questions that remained unanswered.
"Do you believe him?" Lois asked as they packed up to leave. "About the company's new direction?"
Clark considered the question seriously. "I'm not sure. There was something in his eyes during that press conference—like he was playing chess while everyone else was playing checkers."
"Well, I've got a meeting with one of his former lab directors tomorrow. Maybe we'll get some insight into what's really happening behind those corporate doors."
Together they rode the elevator down, discussing dinner plans and tomorrow's agenda with the easy familiarity of partners who'd been working together for years rather than months. Outside, the evening air was mild, Metropolis bathed in the golden light of sunset.
"Race you home?" Lois suggested with a mischievous smile. "I'll take the subway. You take... your usual route.
"That's hardly fair," Clark protested, though he was already loosening his tie. "The subway's at least twenty minutes with transfers."
"Fine. I'll take a taxi." She raised her hand, flagging down a yellow cab with practiced ease. "First one home makes dinner."
"Deal," Clark agreed, watching her climb into the cab with a wave and a blown kiss.
He waited until the taxi had turned the corner before ducking into the alley beside the Planet building. A quick check confirmed he was alone, and in a blur of movement, Clark Kent disappeared as Superman took flight.
The sensation never got old—the rush of air, the freedom of movement, the city spreading out beneath him like a living map. He climbed higher, breaking through cloud cover into the fading sunlight. Up here, away from the constant barrage of sounds and sights that his enhanced senses detected, he found a moment of perfect peace.
So much had changed in these past weeks. Metallo had nearly killed him. He'd finally shared his secret with Lois. They'd moved in together. The Planet had been purchased by Bruce Wayne. Tony Stark had declared himself Iron Man to the world.
Yet through all of it, one constant remained—his commitment to using his abilities to help, to protect, to serve. Not as a god or a savior, but as someone who could make a difference.
Clark rose higher still, feeling solar energy replenish his cells as he soared toward the stratosphere. Far below, Metropolis glittered like jewels scattered across velvet, while above, the vast expanse of space beckoned with memories of a world he'd never known.
Krypton was gone, but its legacy lived on not just in his powers, but in the values Jor-El and Lara had encoded in his cells, the same values Jonathan and Martha had nurtured through love and patience.
Use your gifts to help mankind. Be a force for good in this world. Let your light guide them.
As he hovered in that liminal space between earth and sky, Clark thought about identities—the glasses that signified Clark Kent, the symbol on his chest that represented Superman. But the truth was simpler than either mask.
He was Kal-El of Krypton, raised as Clark Kent in Smallville, Kansas. Reporter, son, partner, protector. Not divided, but whole. Complete.
With a smile, he tucked his arms close and dove back toward the city, a blur of red and blue cutting through clouds with perfect precision. The familiar rush of air surrounded him as he accelerated, breaking the sound barrier with a thunderous crack that echoed across the skyline.
Metropolis stretched below him, its people going about their lives—some looking up at the sound, pointing, smiling at the now-familiar sight. His city. His home.
Clark banked sharply around a skyscraper, reveling in the pure joy of flight, of freedom, of purpose. The sun's last rays caught his silhouette against the emerging stars, a beacon of hope against the darkening sky.
"I stand for truth, justice, and a better tomorrow."
"I am Superman."