> "It seems I really did underestimate you, Kal-El,"
"You truly are Jor-El's son."
From where he'd been thrown, Brainiac pulled himself to his feet.
He was no longer mocking—his cold machine eyes now carried something like surprise… even respect.
> "Let's see," he said, voice sharpening, "how much of your father's genius you've inherited!"
Twin beams of red light suddenly blazed from Brainiac's eyes—
Zzzzztt!
—but Alex met the attack with his own.
Their twin heat visions collided in mid-air, a searing red torrent crashing against itself,
carving molten scars into the walls around them.
For several seconds the energy waves held each other in place.
Alex narrowed his eyes.
He could tell instantly—
Brainiac's beams were stronger than young Clark Kent's.
But against him?
They were nothing.
Without hesitation, Alex stopped playing defense.
He waved one hand lightly.
WHUM!
A vast surge of telekinetic force erupted from him—
and Brainiac's body locked in mid-air like a fly caught in amber.
> "What—what is this?"
For the first time, real confusion crossed the android's face.
When had Kryptonians ever wielded such power?
Even Jor-El himself had never displayed abilities like this!
Brainiac struggled violently, servos whining, metal joints straining—
but it was useless.
No matter how much strength he poured into it,
he couldn't move a millimeter.
> "Impossible!"
He had spent years hiding on Earth, years gathering data—
and yet in this brief encounter, this one human-looking figure had shattered everything he thought he knew.
On a world without a red sun,
this "Kal-El" possessed power far beyond anything Brainiac's logic could calculate.
Alex ignored his confusion.
He was more curious than angry now.
Activating his x-ray vision, he studied the being held motionless before him.
And what he saw… actually surprised him.
> "You're not Kryptonian at all," Alex murmured.
"You're a machine."
That was inconvenient.
If Brainiac had been organic, Alex could've extracted information through pressure—pain, fear, biology.
But a robot?
A robot couldn't feel fear.
Couldn't be threatened.
He sighed.
> "No matter," he said evenly. "Tell me what I want to know, and maybe I'll let you live."
> "And what do you wish to know?"
Despite being pinned in place, Brainiac's tone remained calm—clinical, calculating.
> "Krypton's exact coordinates."
The question clearly startled him.
He'd expected demands for weapons, for secrets, for hidden technology—
not a simple star map.
> "That's all you want?" he asked incredulously.
"You realize Krypton has been destroyed. What good would the coordinates do you?"
> "Just tell me," Alex replied coolly. "I'll handle the rest."
> "Very well," Brainiac said slowly. "But I have one condition."
> "I'm listening."
> "I require a single drop of your blood."
A drop of blood?
Alex's eyes narrowed.
So that was it—
the machine had come seeking Superman's blood all along.
Whatever purpose that sample served, it couldn't be good.
> "That's not happening," Alex said flatly. "Try another offer."
> "It's the only one I'll make."
> "And I told you," Alex said, voice hardening, "I'm not Kal-El."
The quiet certainty in his tone actually made Brainiac hesitate.
He replayed every second of the battle in his processor.
Kryptonians could not move objects with their minds.
Kryptonians under a yellow sun were powerful—but not this powerful.
And the man before him had no reason to lie now; he already had total control.
Could it be…
this wasn't Kal-El after all?
> "So," Brainiac muttered after a long silence, "I've found the wrong man."
> "Exactly."
Alex gave a small, satisfied nod.
> "And as payment for wasting my time—tell me where Krypton was."
> "You do realize the planet no longer exists?"
> "Doesn't matter. Just the coordinates."
> "And if I tell you, you'll let me go?"
> "Of course."
> "Very well."
Brainiac processed for a moment, then transmitted a string of numbers aloud—
a set of deep-space coordinates lost to any Earth database.
> "Thank you for your cooperation."
Alex's eyes glowed faintly.
BOOM!
With a mental pulse, the telekinetic field collapsed inward—
and Brainiac's body exploded into a cloud of metal shards and vapor.
Misunderstanding or not, Alex didn't believe in leaving potential threats alive.
He brushed the dust off his hands.
Besides, he didn't trust that coordinate data for a second.
---
CLINK.
Something metallic struck the floor.
Amid the scattered debris, a small cube shimmered faintly, untouched by the blast.
Alex frowned and picked it up.
It was crafted from some alien alloy, etched with symbols he didn't recognize—
and in the center, a small recessed slot.
> "This shape…" he murmured, turning it in his hand.
Memory clicked into place.
Clark Kent.
He remembered the simple pendant Clark always wore around his neck—
a strange metallic key hanging on a chain.
Back then, Alex hadn't thought twice about it.
But now, comparing the shapes in his mind—
They matched perfectly.
The key.
The slot.
> "Don't tell me…"
A grin spread across Alex's face, eyes lighting with realization.
> "That pendant of his… might just be the key to activating this cube."
> "Looks like," he said, pocketing the artifact,
"I'm going to have to pay Superman another visit."
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