The mop bucket wheels squeaked against Jefferson High's cracked linoleum. The same sound Marcus Webb had heard for three years, five nights a week, 6 PM to 2 AM. The hallways smelled like industrial cleaner and teenage desperation.
"Just two more hours," he muttered, checking his phone. Mom's care facility had called again. Another $400 bill he couldn't pay on $12.50 an hour.
The third-floor lights flickered.
Marcus stopped. The electrical had been updated last year. He'd mopped around the contractors. This shouldn't be happening.
Flicker. Flicker. Darkness.
Emergency lighting kicked in, but wrong. The glow came from the restroom at the hall's end. The one locked for "renovations" since September. It pulsed red like a heartbeat.
```
[>> SYSTEM INITIALIZING <<]
3... 2... 1...
```
The words floated in his vision like a video game interface. Marcus blinked hard. Overtime exhaustion? Bad gas station coffee?
"Hello?" His voice echoed. "Is this some kind of prank?"
The door's glow intensified.
Every instinct screamed run. But Marcus Webb had spent three years invisible, cleaning up after people who didn't see him, watching his mother forget his name.
What did he have to lose?
He pushed the door open.
___
The door wasn't a door.
It was a wound in reality, red and pulsing. Marcus fell through it like a stone down a well. No air, no sound, just the sensation of being unmade and remade.
```
[>> CONSCIOUSNESS TRANSFER <<]
Progress: 47%
Host Body Compatible
Uploading Memories...
```
Images slammed into his mind:
A bald man with cold eyes: "You're a disappointment, Ralph."
A bedroom larger than Marcus's entire apartment.
Women. Beautiful, expensive, nameless.
A brother with perfect hair: "Father expects more from a Luthor."
Champagne worth more than Marcus's yearly salary.
The word LEXCORP on a tower scraping the sky.
```
[>> TRANSFER COMPLETE <<]
Welcome, Ralph Luthor
```
Marcus gasped awake in silk sheets.
"What the fuck?"
His voice was different. Smoother. Richer. He scrambled to a mirror.
The face staring back wasn't Marcus Webb's. Sharp jawline. Expensive haircut. Eyes that had never worried about rent.
```
[>> SYSTEM ONLINE <<]
Name: Ralph Luthor
Level: 1
XP: 0/500
STATS:
INT: 99 | SPD: 30
STR: 25 | CHA: 45
END: 40 | DEX: 35
STATUS: Healthy
SKILLS: Locked
SPECIAL STATUS:
Luthor Bloodline (Passive)
- Enhanced Intelligence
- Target Priority: High
```
"Luthor. As in... Lex Luthor?"
Ralph stumbled to the window. Metropolis stretched before him, and in the distance, a figure in red flew between buildings.
Superman was real.
Which meant he was in the DC Universe.
As Lex Luthor's son.
"Oh fuck."
___
That was three days ago.
Now I understood Ralph's life. The memories had settled, mixing with my own. I was still Marcus Webb inside. The janitor who read comics during lunch breaks. But I was also Ralph Luthor, black sheep son of the most dangerous man in Metropolis.
Which explained why Dr. Victoria Cross was in my bed.
Forty-two years old and built like sin. That's how Alex had described her once, though he'd pretended it was a professional observation. Victoria was LexCorp's Senior VP of Advanced Weapons, with three PhDs and a body that made board meetings run long.
She was also Alex's mentor. Had been for three years, grooming him to eventually take over the company.
And right now, she was naked in my sheets, her auburn hair spread across pillowcases that cost more than Marcus's monthly rent.
"You're staring again," she murmured, eyes still closed.
I traced a finger down her spine, watching goosebumps rise on her pale skin. "Can you blame me? You're supposed to be preparing Alex for a presentation."
Her green eyes opened, sharp and dangerous. "Don't."
"Don't what?" I leaned in, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Don't mention that the woman teaching my brother how to run the company spends her nights in my bed? That she was on her knees for me last night, begging?"
Her breath hitched. "You're such an asshole, Ralph."
"Funny. That's not what you called me when I had you bent over the balcony, fucking you where anyone could see."
She turned, her hand sliding up my chest, nails dragging slightly. "You're going to get us both in trouble."
"That's the point."
I kissed her, deep and possessive, and felt her melt against me the way she always did. Victoria Cross could stare down generals and intimidate senators, but put her in my bed and she became something else entirely.
My hand slid between her thighs, finding her already wet.
"Ralph..." she gasped, but her legs were already spreading.
"Tell me," I whispered against her throat, my fingers circling her clit. "Tell me what you want."
"You know what I want."
"Say it."
She bit her lip, her hips grinding against my hand. "I want you to fuck me. Hard. The way Alex never could."
There it was. The truth she'd never admit in daylight.
I pulled my hand away, ignoring her whimper of protest, and positioned myself between her thighs. She was soaking wet, her body desperate for me.
"Please," she breathed, and I loved hearing that word from her lips.
I thrust into her in one hard stroke, burying myself to the hilt. She cried out, her back arching off the bed, her nails raking down my back hard enough to draw blood.
"Fuck, you're so tight," I groaned, pulling back and slamming into her again.
"Harder," she demanded, her voice breaking. "God, Ralph, harder!"
I grabbed her hips, lifting them slightly, changing the angle, and fucked her with abandon. The headboard slammed against the wall with each thrust. Her breasts bounced, her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.
"Look at you," I growled. "Alex's perfect mentor, getting fucked like a whore. You love it, don't you?"
"Yes!" she gasped. "God, yes, I love it!"
I could feel her tightening around me, getting close. I reached between us, my thumb finding her clit, and she shattered.
"Ralph! Oh fuck, Ralph!"
She came hard, her whole body convulsing, her pussy clenching around my cock. The sight of her, this powerful woman completely undone, pushed me over the edge. I thrust deep one last time and came inside her, filling her completely.
We collapsed together, breathing hard, sweat-slicked skin pressed against each other.
"Alex can never know," she whispered after a long moment.
I laughed, dark and satisfied. "Alex doesn't know a lot of things. Like how his mentor thinks about me during those boring strategy meetings. Or how you get wet every time you have to shake his hand, knowing mine was inside you that morning."
She pulled away slightly, trying to regain her composure. "You're cruel."
"I'm honest." I reached for my phone on the nightstand. "There's a difference."
That's when I saw it.
17 missed calls. All from Lena.
```
[>> SKILL ACTIVATED <<]
Analysis Level 2
THREAT ANALYSIS:
17 calls/43 minutes
Emergency: 94% probability
Action: Answer now
```
I answered. "Lena?"
"Ralph, thank God." Her voice cracked. Lena never cracked. "It's Alex. Someone shot him."
The room went cold.
"What?"
"Last night. At his office. Security found him around midnight." She was crying. "Ralph, they think it was Deadshot."
```
[>> ENEMY IDENTIFIED <<]
DEADSHOT
Floyd Lawton
Threat Level: EXTREME
ABILITIES:
- Perfect marksmanship
- Never misses
- Tactical genius
- Psychological warfare
WARNING:
If Deadshot missed, it was
intentional. This was a warning.
```
My blood ran cold. Not from Ralph's memories. From mine. Marcus Webb knew every DC comic, every villain profile. Deadshot meant death.
"Is Alex alive?"
"Yes. Critical but stable. Shoulder shot, missed everything vital." Lena paused. "Ralph, if Deadshot wanted him dead..."
"He'd be dead," I finished. "This was a message."
Victoria had gone pale beside me, clutching the sheet to her chest. "Alex?" she whispered.
I ignored her. "Where's Dad?"
"Stryker's Island. Maximum lockdown." Another pause. "Ralph... you need to hide."
She didn't need to finish.
Lex: untouchable in prison.
Alex: surrounded by guards.
Me: the disappointment nobody took seriously.
The easiest target.
```
[>> QUEST STARTED <<]
SURVIVE THE LUTHOR LEGACY
PRIMARY OBJECTIVE:
Stay alive
TIME LIMIT: Unknown
DIFFICULTY: EXTREME
FAILURE CONDITION: Death
```
"I'll call you back," I said, hanging up.
Victoria was already scrambling for her clothes, her face a mask of guilt and panic. "I need to see him. I need to..."
"You need to stay away," I cut her off. "Whoever did this is watching. You show up crying at his bedside, and they'll know Alex matters to you. They'll use you to get to him."
She froze, meeting my eyes. For the first time since I'd known her, Victoria Cross looked scared.
"What are you going to do?"
I smiled. Cold, calculating. "What a Luthor does best. Survive."
___
Victoria left twenty minutes later, still shaken, still guilty. I watched her go from the window, already compartmentalizing. She'd run to Alex eventually. They all did.
But right now, I had bigger problems.
I went to the closet. Past the designer suits that cost more than Marcus's car, past the watches worth small fortunes, to the hidden safe built into the back wall.
Code: 05-17-89. Lex's birthday.
Inside: fifty thousand in cash, three fake passports, and a matte-black Glock 19.
Marcus had never touched a gun. Was afraid of them, actually. But Ralph's muscle memory kicked in without thought. Checking the magazine, fifteen rounds. Chambering one. The weight familiar and deadly in my hand.
```
[>> SKILL UNLOCKED <<]
Firearms Proficiency Level 1
ABILITY:
Basic gun handling and accuracy
XP GAINED: +30
Total: 30/500
```
My phone buzzed. Unknown number.
Every instinct screamed don't answer. But I did anyway.
"Mr. Luthor." The voice was smooth, cultured, amused. "You don't know me, but I know you very well."
"Who is this?"
"Someone who's been watching the Luthor family with great interest. Your father sits in a cage. Your brother lies bleeding in a hospital bed." A pause. "And you? You've been busy fucking his mentor. Victoria Cross. Quite the catch. Does she scream louder for you than she would for him?"
My blood turned to ice. They knew. They'd been watching.
"What do you want?"
"To see if you're worthy of your father's legacy. Lex Luthor built an empire on genius and ruthlessness. Alexander inherited the genius." Another dark chuckle. "But you, Ralph? You've inherited nothing but a reputation for disappointment and debauchery."
"Get to the point."
"The point is this: you have 48 hours to prove you're more than a waste of superior genetics. Survive them. Show me you have even a fraction of your father's cunning. Do that, and perhaps we can have a more productive conversation."
"And if I don't?"
"Then you'll join the long list of people who died because they bore the Luthor name but lacked the Luthor legacy. I do hope you'll prove more entertaining than your brother, though. He was rather predictable."
The line went dead.
```
[>> QUEST UPDATED <<]
SURVIVE THE LUTHOR LEGACY
TIME LIMIT ADDED: 48 hours
NEW OBJECTIVE:
Prove your worth or die
REWARD: Unknown
FAILURE: Death
```
I stared at the phone, then at the city beyond my window.
I could run. Disappear with the fake passports and cash. Marcus Webb would run.
But Ralph Luthor? Lex Luthor's son?
We didn't run.
I tucked the gun into my waistband, grabbed my keys, and headed for the door.
Twenty minutes later, I stood in LexCorp tower's executive garage, staring at the private elevator that led to the restricted floors. The ones even most executives couldn't access.
If I was going to survive Deadshot and whoever hired him, I needed more than a pistol and borrowed memories.
I needed weapons. Real weapons.
And Lex Luthor had built an empire on weapons.
```
[>> NEW LOCATION <<]
LexCorp Tower
OBJECTIVE:
Access Restricted R&D
```
I placed my hand on the biometric scanner. The system chimed.
"Welcome, Mr. Luthor. Level 3 access granted. Please proceed."
The elevator doors opened with a soft hiss.
I stepped inside, the doors closing behind me. The elevator began to descend, heading down into the sub-levels. Down into the dark heart of my father's empire.
48 hours wasn't much time.
But I had no intention of dying like some disappointing footnote in the Luthor legacy.
If they wanted to see what I was capable of, I'd show them.
```
XP GAINED: +100
Total: 130/500
PROGRESS:
Skills Unlocked: 2
Allies: 0
Enemies: 2 (Deadshot, Unknown)
Time Remaining: 48 hours