Whoosh!
Oliver's instincts kicked in the instant the sonic crack hit the air. His muscles tightened, his reflexes snapping into perfect form. He pivoted on his heel with practiced precision, drawing an arrow in the same motion and pulling his bowstring back to full tension. The arrowhead glinted under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the lab corridor, aimed squarely at Alex's heart.
Even with fear creeping beneath his stern expression, Oliver's voice stayed steady—sharp, controlled, dangerous.
> "If you're standing here, that means Barry really wasn't your match.
What did you do to him?"
The question wasn't a request for information—it was an accusation, thick with suspicion.
Alex didn't bother glancing at the arrow pointed at his face. He didn't shift his stance, didn't raise a brow, didn't blink. He looked at Oliver like someone glancing at a child pointing a toy gun.
> "I'm the one asking questions.
Not you."
His tone was perfectly even, disturbingly calm—like he'd already decided how this conversation would end.
> "Why did you break into my base?"
Oliver snorted, a harsh bark of contempt that echoed off the metal walls.
> "'My base?'
Hah. Since when do Luthor's dogs ask why they're being stopped?"
His posture stiffened and his voice dropped an octave—firm, righteous, unwavering.
> "You're running human experiments.
That's one of the few crimes I won't tolerate.
Of course I'd shut you down."
Most people said things like that to sound noble.
Oliver Queen meant every word with his entire soul.
Alex's lips twitched in a cold, humorless chuckle.
> "What, Star City doesn't have enough criminals for you to play vigilante?
You had to run to Smallville to poke into other people's business?"
Anger flared behind Oliver's eyes, but not uncontrolled—not yet.
> "You think Luthor only has one lab here? He has facilities all over the country.
Star City included."
His jaw tightened.
> "I shut down his lab there first.
Now I'm clearing out the rest."
Ah.
So that was the reason.
A faint nod of understanding slipped from Alex.
Then—
> "First—Luthor works for me, not the other way around.
Second—this lab isn't doing what you think it's doing. It's not like the others.
And third—even if this is a misunderstanding… you still broke into my place.
So you'll pay a price before you leave."
Every word was delivered like a judge issuing a sentence—calm, final, irreversible.
Oliver's fingers tightened around his bowstring.
Muscles coiled.
Heart pounding.
This man was dangerous.
More dangerous than anyone he had ever stood in front of.
> "I don't think so!"
He fired.
Swish!
The arrow flew with impeccable speed and precision, slicing the air—
Only for Alex to calmly raise a hand and catch it between two fingers as if accepting a pen from a secretary.
Right then—
Pffft!
The arrowhead ruptured, releasing a thick burst of green gas that erupted like a miniature explosion, engulfing Alex in a swirling cloud.
Oliver's eyes gleamed triumphantly.
A gas bomb arrow—one of his most reliable tools.
Most metahumans dropped instantly when exposed.
Unfortunately…
Alex wasn't "most metahumans."
His physiology didn't rely on breath.
His cells absorbed oxygen directly.
His mutant-enhanced biology practically ignored airborne toxins.
If anything, the gas felt like a refreshing mist.
Alex snapped the arrow cleanly in half with one hand, letting the fragments drop to the floor.
Oliver's confidence froze mid-stride.
He swallowed hard.
That attack should've done something—anything.
Swish!
Desperation sparked—he fired again, quicker this time.
But this arrow split mid-flight into three micro-arrows, each the size of a bullet, streaking toward Alex in a triangular pattern.
Alex didn't even bother dodging.
The arrows struck his chest with faint metallic taps.
Oliver's breath hitched.
> "Got him."
For half a heartbeat, hope fluttered in his chest.
---
Crackle-crackle!
A surge of electricity exploded outward from the embedded arrowheads, filling the corridor with violent arcs of blue-white lightning. The air hissed and snapped like an electrical storm contained in a small room.
Enough power to drop a superhuman.
Enough to paralyze larger metahumans for minutes.
Electricity danced across Alex's body.
He didn't flinch.
Didn't jolt.
Didn't even tense.
His expression didn't change.
To him, the electricity might as well have been a lukewarm shower.
Oliver's triumphant smile died instantly.
The blood drained from his face.
Electricity did nothing.
Nothing.
This man wasn't just strong.
He was utterly inhuman.
Oliver scrambled for another arrow, fingers fumbling.
He didn't get the chance.
WHOOSH!
Before his brain fully processed the movement, Alex blurred and materialized right in front of him—so close Oliver could see his own reflection in Alex's eyes.
One punch.
A casual, effortless tap from Alex's fist—
THUD.
Oliver dropped instantly, limbs folding awkwardly as if his strings had been cut by an invisible blade.
---
"Oliver! Oliver!"
Cisco's frantic screams tore through the earpiece.
Alex ignored them completely.
He raised a hand.
With a simple gesture, telekinesis wrapped around Oliver's unconscious body, lifting him off the floor. The archer hung limply in the air like a discarded puppet.
Alex walked past him, making his way back through the corridor.
On his way out, he passed Barry's limp form, still sprawled where he'd fallen.
Alex grabbed him with the other hand, lifting him effortlessly.
Both heroes dangled beside him like shopping bags as he strode toward the exit.
---
Outside—
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A convoy screeched to a halt.
Car doors flew open as Lex Luthor emerged, flanked by a squad of armed guards armed to the teeth.
The moment Lex spotted Alex, he forced a neutral expression onto his face.
> "Homelander—everything under control?"
Then he noticed the floating bodies.
Barry Allen.
Oliver Queen.
Lex's breath hitched.
> "That's… Green Arrow!"
Hatred flashed openly across his face.
Oliver had ruined more of Lex's projects than he could count.
Alex controlled his fate—
but Oliver Queen had humiliated Luthor for years.
> "Homelander, I have a personal score with that one.
Mind handing him over?"
He tried to sound casual.
It came out strained.
Alex didn't even pretend to consider it.
> "No.
He's useful to me."
Then he issued a single, clipped order:
> "Clean up."
BOOM!
He vanished into the sky, dragging both heroes away with him.
Lex stared at the empty space where Alex had been.
For the first time, his expression cracked completely—morphing into raw, silent fury.
He had always been the one manipulating others.
Now, he was the one being manipulated.
And he hated it.
But after losing a literal arm to Alex, Lex understood the reality perfectly:
Resist now, and die.
Obey now, and maybe survive.
He clenched his teeth and signaled his men to start clearing the mess.
---
Alex didn't think about Lex at all.
He zoomed home, setting Barry and Oliver on the living room floor like two packages delivered by express mail.
Because he already had plans for both of them.
Lex would continue experimenting with Kryptonite's purity.
But Alex had another project—an enormous one:
Synthetic Kryptonite.
And for that, he needed talent.
He needed skills.
He needed someone capable of building tech from anything—
He needed:
Oliver Queen.
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