New York at night was in ruins, and the disaster scene was being handled with urgency.
Deep underground in the city, inside a massive secret laboratory, lights blazed brightly.
Lex Luthor, dressed in a suit, stood before a huge glass container.
Inside the container were two Kryptonian bodies, back to back, immersed in a dark green nutrient solution.
Zod.
Fiona.
Luthor's face showed a fanaticism that was almost obsessive.
On the large screen behind him, complex genetic sequence maps scrolled rapidly, finally settling on a red-marked double helix structure.
"Incredible..."
Luthor's pupils reflected the screen's light.
"A perfect biological template, with just a few modifications, it can become our most perfect weapon against those gods."
His assistant recorded data nearby, his voice trembling slightly.
"Sir, the gene samples we extracted show extreme aggressiveness and adaptability, but... it's unstable."
"Instability means infinite possibilities."
Luthor reached out, gently pressing his hand against the cold glass container, looking at Zod's face, which still held lingering defiance and madness.
"Prometheus stole fire for humanity."
"And I, Lex Luthor, will create monsters capable of slaying gods for humanity."
"Go prepare."
"Yes, Mr. Luthor."
Meanwhile, by a Mexican food truck on a New York street corner.
Tel-Ror let out a satisfied burp, crumpled the wrapper of the last burrito, and casually tossed it into a nearby trash can.
"The taste was alright, just too little of it."
He smacked his lips, still feeling a bit unsatisfied.
Deadpool, his mouth full of chimichangas, mumbled in agreement.
"Right, right! The boss is too stingy! Next time we should tie him up and make him cook nonstop for twenty-four hours!"
The food truck owner, hiding inside the truck, shivered again upon hearing this.
Kara shook her head helplessly, wiping her mouth with a napkin.
Although she didn't have much of an appetite, seeing Tel-Ror and Deadpool devour everything, she also ate a little.
"Should we... should we head back?"
Kara glanced at the sky; New York's night sky was illuminated by the lights of various rescue ships, but it still felt oppressive.
"Clark..."
"He's a big man, he won't get lost, will he?"
Tel-Ror shrugged indifferently.
He stretched, his joints popping with a series of crackling sounds.
"I've eaten my fill, time to find a place to sleep."
He turned and grinned at Kara, showing two rows of white teeth.
"Come on, let's go home?"
Kara's cheeks flushed slightly, remembering the terrible three days before.
She cleared her throat, changing the subject.
"I think we should still go see Clark; he's not in a good state right now."
"What's not good about it? He just killed someone, didn't he?"
Tel-Ror pursed his lips.
"He made his own choice, and he has to bear the consequences. We're not his parents; we can't manage him his whole life, can we?"
"But..."
"No buts."
Tel-Ror interrupted her. He suddenly looked up in a certain direction in the sky, a playful glint in his blue eyes.
"Oh? There's some fun to watch."
"What fun?"
Deadpool also leaned in curiously.
Tel-Ror didn't answer, just gestured with his chin towards Kara.
"Want to see how your righteous companions are going to have an internal conflict?"
Watchtower space station, circular conference room.
The atmosphere was oppressively heavy, no one dared to breathe.
The core members of the Justice League were all present.
Clark Kent still wore his dusty Superman suit, his head bowed, sitting on one side of the conference table, shrouded in gloom, not saying a word.
Diana stood behind him, her hand gently resting on his shoulder, her face filled with worry.
At the other end of the conference table.
Bruce Wayne wore his heavy Batman armor, his helmet still on, his cold white eye lenses fixed on Clark.
The others sat in their respective seats, no one speaking.
Barry Allen wanted to tell a joke to lighten the mood, but he opened his mouth and finally just gave an awkward laugh.
Hal Jordan silently stared at the tabletop before him.
Finally, Arthur Curry, the Aquaman, was the first to break the silence.
He slammed his golden trident heavily onto the floor!
"Bang!"
"I say, why are you all acting like you're at a funeral?"
Arthur spoke gruffly, scanning the room, his gaze finally landing on Bruce.
"So what if an alien lunatic died? That guy was going to destroy Earth; Clark dealt with him. What's the problem?"
"There's a big problem!"
Bruce retorted with a serious tone.
"He crossed the line, Arthur!"
Bruce stood up, walking step by step towards Clark.
"What's the biggest difference between us and those criminals? It's that we have a bottom line! We don't kill!"
"Once we cross that line, we're no different from them!"
"Bullshit bottom line!"
Arthur also stood up, retorting without politeness.
"That guy threatened to kill his wife and child right in front of him! If it were you, Bruce, could you tolerate that?"
Bruce stopped, his white eye lenses turning to Arthur.
"I would find another way."
"Another way? What way? Wait for him to kill your whole family, then you throw him in jail?"
Arthur scoffed, "Your rules might work against a few petty criminals in Gotham. Against a world-destroying lunatic like that, it's a joke!"
"Enough!"
Diana spoke, stopping their argument.
She looked at Bruce, her tone earnest.
"Bruce, Clark... he had no choice at the time."
"He always has a choice!"
Bruce's emotions were a bit agitated. He pointed at the still-silent Clark.
"He could have chosen to break his limbs, he could have knocked him out, he could have thrown him into the sun! But he chose the easiest, and also the most wrong, way!"
"He succumbed to anger, he chose revenge!"
"He's no longer the Superman we know."
Bruce's words made Clark's heart tremble.
Clark's bowed head dropped even lower, his self-doubt intensifying.
Bruce sighed softly, regaining his usual coldness.
"We must activate the 'Fortress' protocol."
At these words, everyone present's expression changed.
"Bruce, are you crazy?!"
Barry was the first to jump up, looking incredulously at Bruce. "The Fortress protocol is the highest-level response plan to be activated only when facing an uncontrollable Kryptonian threat! You're going to deal with Clark?"
"Not deal with."
Bruce corrected, "It's to contain. His mental state is extremely unstable. He must be isolated until he recovers. This is for everyone's safety."
"I disagree."
Diana stood in front of Clark, looking directly at Bruce.
"He needs help and guidance, not to be locked up like a prisoner."
Arthur also stood up beside Diana, looking at Bruce with similar incredulity, stating his position.
"You've gone too far, Bruce."
"Then who will guarantee that next time he won't twist another person's neck out of anger?"
Bruce countered.
"Who will guarantee that this man with the power of a god won't become the next tyrant?"
The conference room fell into a stalemate once more.
Just then.
A lazy, somewhat teasing voice, without warning, echoed in the conference room.
"Yo, having a meeting?"
"Why is the atmosphere so serious? Is someone having a memorial service?"
Everyone was startled, turning in unison towards the source of the sound.
In the center of the conference room, three figures walked in from outside.
Tel-Ror, hands in his pockets, an expression of someone enjoying a show.
Kara followed behind him, looking a bit uneasy.
And a guy in a red and black bodysuit was excitedly looking around.
"Wow! Is this the legendary Watchtower? Nice decor! Much grander than Professor X's old-fashioned school!"
Deadpool exclaimed loudly.
Bruce's white eye lenses instantly locked onto Tel-Ror.
"Who let you in?"
"Your front door wasn't closed, so I just walked..."
Tel-Ror paused, then corrected himself, "I just flew in."
"I just heard, you guys seem to be discussing how to deal with my cousin?"
He tilted his head, looking at Bruce with interest, a hint of provocation on his face.
"What? Can't beat the aliens, so you're going to start on your own people?"
"Batman, you're really something."