Jeremiah was always smarter than he let on, and he had learned early on that Cadmus never slept.
The underground facility hummed with life at all hours, fluorescent lights buzzing softly, machines cycling through endless diagnostics, and scientists moving with the tired efficiency of people who had long since stopped questioning why they were here. To most of them, Cadmus was just a job. To Jeremiah, it was an opportunity.
At only twenty years old, he was already one of the youngest scientists employed at the facility, a fact that earned him more than a few sideways glances from his older coworkers. Curly brown hair framed a sharp, youthful face, his brown eyes often narrowed in quiet focus. There was something precise about his features, a subtle hardness inherited from his German lineage, that made him look more serious than his age suggested.
He had been here for a year now.
A year of early mornings, late nights, and learning how to survive in a place built on secrets and lies.
Jeremiah worked diligently, hands gliding over holographic interfaces and gene sequencing displays as he moved through his daily routines. He rarely spoke unless spoken to, content to listen as his coworkers filled the air with speculation and gossip. Today was no different.
"They're saying Project KR is finally stabilizing," one scientist muttered as they walked past a containment wing.
"About time," another replied. "Cloning Superman was always going to be messy."
Jeremiah kept his expression neutral, though inside, he smiled.
Project KR, Kryptonian Replication was Cadmus' crown jewel, Lex Luthor's obsessive attempt to recreate the Man of Steel molecule by molecule. Everyone knew about it. Everyone worked around it. But few truly understood what it meant.
Jeremiah did.
Because while others followed protocols and obeyed orders, he experimented quietly.
Unofficially.
He had run his own tests late at night, siphoning fragments of data and genetic material when no one was looking. DNA splicing, adaptive cloning matrices, accelerated growth algorithms, things Cadmus restricted to senior researchers. Things Jeremiah understood far better than he let on.
Unlike many of his coworkers, he wasn't blinded by the illusion of importance. He knew Cadmus was just another chessboard, and Lex Luthor was merely one player among many. Power didn't belong to those who shouted the loudest or sat at the top of the chain.
Power belonged to those who prepared in silence.
As he followed a group of scientists and Genomorphs through the facility's corridors, Jeremiah observed everything. The way the Genomorphs moved engineered strength barely contained beneath obedient programming. The way the scientists avoided their eyes. Fear, dressed up as authority.
He understood both sides.
Growing up, Jeremiah had been invisible. Smart, quiet, awkward. Girls had never looked twice at him, no matter how much he tried to fit in. He had watched others live the life he wanted, forming relationships effortlessly while he remained stuck in the background.
But that was before Cadmus.
Before he realized that attraction, like everything else, could be engineered.
He wasn't ashamed of his desires. He wanted more than companionship he wanted control, devotion, admiration. A future where he was no longer overlooked. A future where he didn't have to ask for affection.
A harem, if he was being honest with himself.
The thought lingered in his mind as he passed through Observation Wing C, glancing at a containment chamber where a failed clone floated in suspension. A twisted, incomplete thing. Proof that perfection required patience.
"Jeremiah."
He turned to see Dr. Hamilton watching him closely. "You've been logging extra hours again."
"Yes, sir," Jeremiah replied evenly. "I wanted to refine the splicing error from last week."
Hamilton studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Careful. Curiosity is dangerous here."
Jeremiah offered a polite smile. "I'll remember that."
He waited until the doctor left before allowing the smile to fade.
Curiosity wasn't dangerous.
Being careless was.
Later that night, long after most of the staff had cleared out, Jeremiah returned to his private workstation a modified lab terminal tucked away in a low-traffic sector. He activated the screens, eyes scanning lines of encrypted data only he knew how to access.
His work wasn't about cloning Superman.
It was about improvement.
He had begun experimenting with hybridization models combining human DNA with meta-enhancements, emotional responsiveness algorithms, loyalty imprinting. Not mind control, exactly. More like… optimization.
Why leave devotion to chance?
As the system processed his latest simulation, Jeremiah leaned back in his chair, thoughts drifting. He imagined a future where he wasn't just another scientist in a lab coat, but someone powerful.
Someone desired. Someone surrounded by people who chose him not out of obligation, but design.