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Chapter 15 of Have You Come To Meet Your Match
🕑 Added 2024-12-01 22:51:34 +0000 UTCAlexander Joseph Luthor was a visionary. An exceptional creative. A genius of unparalleled scope.
He stood as one of the greatest minds of the 21st century. Innovator. Inventor. Businessman. An architect of the future. His ideas didn’t just belong to the pages of academic journals or patent offices—they very well reshaped the very structure of the world.
Lexcorp, the behemoth of industry he inherited from his father, had grown from a handful of small enterprises to the innovation giant that it was today under his guidance.
Metropolis itself bore testament to this, practically humming with the energy of Luthor’s relentless ingenuity. He lavished his vision upon it like a modern-day Medici, transforming the city into a jewel of technological wonder with Luthor tech humming softly in the veins of the city. From its energy grids to its automated transport systems updated year after year.
His detractors—including those who very well spat his name with venom—could not deny his brilliance.
He had etched his fingerprints into the foundation of the 21st century itself.
And that was just in his ability as a scientist, an inventor.
As a businessman, Luthor’s brilliance had yielded dividends beyond measure, turning lexcorp into a cornerstone of global economy.
Metropolis was Luthor’s epicenter, but his influence radiated outward. It was estimated that Lexcorp’s investments alone had boosted the U.S GDP by over 20%. For most, such figures were abstractions, cold numbers in some distant economic forecast.
But the reality was more tangible; millions of people employed in industries touched by his vision.
Factories buzzed with activity. Supply chains stretched across continents. His influence turned steel and silicon into opportunity, putting food on tables, gas in cars and hope into lives.
Of course, it wasn’t all spreadsheets and skyscrapers.
Alexander Luthor knew the value of a good reputation, of philanthropy that sparkled under the scrutiny of cameras. One of his crowning humanitarian achievements was Project Green.
A sweeping initiative that had promised to heal the planet’s wounds. Renewable energy, reforestation, sustainable agriculture all the like. Anything required to transform terra.
And so project Green went.
Environmentalists praised him as a messiah. Headlines likened him to Da Vinci reborn, a man too big for any single era.
And everyone agreed.
However when Luthor decided that was one of those requirements was the employ of metahumans
Project Green became a controversial project.
Those scared, or perhaps affected negatively in one way or the other by metahuman influence rose up in uproar.
It flooded the news, made headlines.
While for those burdened with the gift of being superhuman, there was…hope. Hope that they could go home to living a normal life. Where everything wasn’t so different.
Of course while these all happened, the more…..clairvoyant critics whispered that Project Green was a front—a masterstroke of PR designed to obscure the less savory parts of Luthor’s empire.
That behind the sleek marketing campaigns and glossy reports were quieter stories: resource extraction cloaked in greenwashing, and corporate maneuvering that stifled competitors in the name of progress.
And this was just what the more curious public knew.
But what did it matter? The world was cleaner, richer, better. Surely such progress justified the cost of inclusion of those considered unsavory.
And so in the court of public opinion, Alexander Luthor was vindicated time and time again. The world rewarded him handsomely, elevating him to the position of a United Nations affiliate before he eventually ascended to the role of Secretary-General.
In less than a decade, Alexander Maximus Luthor had become the face of several summits and agreements in UN charter. And to his credit, he did his job well.
All these came up when Kelex dutifully presented his findings on the man back at the fortress. When I had asked him to look up the name.
Lex…
”Luthor!” Superman spat out. “What’s he doing here? What are you doing here?”
“Superman!” The president’s sharp reprimand cut through the tension.
A moment of silence stretched where I watched the strongest man on the planet get reprimanded like a kid before Superman exhaled deeply, suppressing his frustration even as his jaw tightened.
“I apologize for my outburst,” he said, though even as his eyes never left Luthor. “But Luthor is implicated in the reason I was cloned in the first place.”
Luthor’s eyebrow arched slightly, his lips curling into something jaded.
“Superman,” he began, his tone smooth and unbothered, as he folded his hands in front of him, briefly creasing his dark black suit that somehow looked like it was the most expensive thing in this Oval Office. “I understand we’ve had quite the colorful history. But must we always reduce ourselves to such crude accusations?”
“Accusations?!”
Superman leaned forward slightly, his blue eyes narrowing like daggers.
“I’m sure it was quite coincidental that your DNA happened to be found in the creation of Superboy.”
Luthor placed a hand on his chest in mock offense.
“Coincidental? That’s not the word I’d use. I was shocked—violated even—when I learned that a piece of me had been misappropriated for such a grotesque endeavor. The very idea that my genetic material was—”
“Don’t…!” Superman interrupted, his voice a low growl. The anger in that growl was quite intense, and I was beginning to wonder if I’d get to see something bloody. “Don’t you dare stand there and lie to me. As if Cadmus didn’t—”
“Enough!” The President barked, her tone cutting through the heated exchange like a gavel striking. Her gaze flicked between the two, unimpressed with their squabbling. “Superman, you are way out of line.”
Superman opened his mouth to defend himself, but she raised a hand to silence him.
“UN Sec Gen Alexander Luthor is here to ensure the success of this meeting.
If you believe that Lex Luthor is responsible for this entire mess, I’ll need more than accusations. Where is your proof?”
“Tch” Superman kissed his teeth, looking to the side, jaw flexing in frustration.
Of course, Luthor wasn’t done.
“Superman, I am as much a victim as you are. I understand that we have not always stood on the same ground. Well how would we considering that you can fly and we are just li-“
“Luthor!” The president scolded.
“Oh sorry It’s just that I need to remind him that not everyone can simpl-“
“Luthor!” The president cautioned again, sharper this time.
“Pl-“
“Enough,” Wonder Woman finally interjected said, her voice commanding immediate attention.
Wonder Woman turned to the President. “Madam President, I apologize for my colleague’s outburst. Tensions are understandably high given the circumstances but this isn’t a place for accusations nonetheless.”
The President nodded, visibly relieved by Diana’s intervention.
Wonder Woman’s eyes then shifted to Luthor, and her tone changed. Her voice hardened. “That being said, Mr. Luthor, your reputation precedes you. If we find even the slightest of proofs, I promise you that you will stand trial for this desecration.”
Luthor’s smirk faltered ever so slightly. He straightened his tie. “Princess, I appreciate your candor, but I am here as a representative of the United Nations, not to be interrogated. And if we’re speaking of reputations, perhaps you should remind Superman to manage his temper. I can’t help but feel particularly…unsafe right now”
Superman scoffed. “Unsafe? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I assure you, I’m not,” Luthor replied smoothly. “I’m quite serious. I must insist, for my safety, that my bodyguard join us.”
The President frowned glancing between the two men. “Is that really necessary?”
“I believe it to be,” Lex Luthor said, giving a shrug. “Do not worry. I pride my staff on discretion.”
Wonder Woman tilted her head, her eyes narrowing, but she said nothing.
While Superman kept silent, glaring.
The President nodded. “Very well. Let them in.”
The heavy doors opened, revealing the bodyguard.
He stepped inside with measured ease, his figure lean and unassuming. A well-tailored black suit hugged his frame, spotless and professional. Brown hair slicked neatly to one side, sharp features arranged into a mask of neutrality. He looked like the embodiment of Lex Luthor’s polished pragmatism, designed to blend into any room without raising an eyebrow.
Superman’s gaze swept over the newcomer, his brow furrowing slightly. “Lead-lined suits, Luthor? Really?”
Luthor smiled, faintly amused. “Bulletproof suits, Superman. You can never be too careful these days. I’ve had enough close calls to value… precautions. Surely even you can appreciate that.”
Superman’s lips curled in faint irritation. “Precautions. Right,” he muttered, brushing off the bodyguard with a glance. “Let’s get on with this.”
The tension in the room began to ebb for everyone else—but not for me.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the bodyguard.
It wasn’t his stance—perfectly casual—or his expression—polite, professional, entirely unremarkable. No, it was something deeper, something wrong. It was as if a thread of the universe itself was frayed around him, an unseen force humming with quiet dissonance.
I kept staring.
And then, like a shard of glass slicing into my thoughts, a voice rang out.
“You notice me, don’t you?”
The words bypassed my ears entirely, plunging directly into the space between my thoughts. They were eerie, laced with a sharp, playful malice, like the scrape of nails across stone.
My body locked in place as if every muscle had turned to lead. My reflexes screamed to whip my head around and look, but my Kryptonian physiology—the rigid control bred into me—kept me unnaturally still.
A second too late, I realized the voice had noticed my hesitation.
“You do. Kikikiki.” The voice purred, a jagged, broken laugh like glass shattering.
Who are you? I thought, my mind narrowing into suspicion.
The laughter swelled, its grating rhythm clawing at the edges of my sanity.
“You really are something,” the voice whispered, delight dripping from every syllable. “Where are you from? Where have you been? What have you seen? Who… have you been?”
The voice was reveling in me.
Who the hell are you?
“Me?” it continued with gleeful nonchalance. “Oh, I’m no one terribly interesting. Just a whisper, a shadow. But you… you are a marvel. A crack in the tapestry. Almost like that fool Mxyzp—oh, wait. I shouldn’t say his name. That wouldn’t do at all.”
The laughter turned to a purr. “Just like him, chaos rejoices in your existence. Do you understand what that means? Your very presence here misaligns fate, tilts the scales. In Favor of Chaos. You, my marvelous creature, are an instrument of chaos.”
A chill coursed through me as the voice softened, its tone turning oddly reverent. “Oh, you beautiful, glorious thing. You have no idea how glad I am to finally meet you.”
“You’re the bodyguard.”
“Kikiki, yes! Very good. I am the bodyguard.” The voice preened with approval. “Your affinity for chaos has sharpened your senses. I’d say I’m impressed, but that would be lying. Luthor has me here to… check on you.”
“Check on me?”
“Oh yes,” the voice hummed, as if savoring a secret. “You see, my role is to ensure that a certain little spell I left on you remains… intact.”
A spell.
“What spell?”
“Ah, just a tiny thing,” the voice said, feigning humility. “A masterpiece, really. A little pentagram etched into the nape of your neck. It was designed to leave you pliable, obedient. The perfect infiltration tool for dear old Luthor.”
A knot twisted in my chest. “And now?”
“Well…” The voice sighed theatrically. “Now, I couldn’t possibly touch you. Chaos loves you, my darling, and that means I do too. My spell is irrelevant now—completely unnecessary! You are a thing of beauty just as you are.”
My stomach churned. “You’re Klarion. The Witch Boy.”
The voice fell silent for a moment. To me at least. At the background, the room buzzed with conversation and a tension only I seemed to feel.
It didn’t take more than 5 seconds when it returned, its tone colder, sharper. “That is a title I’ve not heard in centuries. How do you know of that? Are you from the Old World? Is that why Chaos sings for you?”
“Chaos sings for me,” I said, my voice steady, deliberate, “because I am the critical piece on the board. The one that cannot be ignored. I am that puzzle piece without which the picture cannot be completed.”
Klarion tilted his head, intrigued. “Go on,” he purred, his voice laced with a dangerous curiosity.
“I aim to establish my own order in this world I’ve found myself in,” I continued. “And to do that, there must be disorder first. Chaos is necessary to enforce a new order. As is balance. I believe your kind calls it ‘Kali Yuga.’
At this, Klarion’s lips curled into a wicked grin, his eyes alight with sinister amusement. “Kali Yuga,” he repeated, the words reverberating like a hymn. “You intend to bring back the days of Chaos arise.”
“Your very chaos buzzes with the echoes of what is to come,” I said firmly.
“Kikikikiki.” Klarion laughed, his jagged mirth filling my mind. “You promise much. Ambitious, I’ll give you that. And you speak our language well. But tell me… what will you have me tell Luthor?”
A slow smile spread across my face. “You’ll tell him the clone remains clueless of the spell, that the League holds no suspicion of it. You’ll assure him the clone will follow orders, that infiltration will still be possi-“
“Match!”
Lex Luthor’s voice rang out sharply, interrupting my thoughts.
I turned to him, replaying the last thirty seconds of our conversation in my mind to ensure I hadn’t given myself away. “Yes?”
“I noticed you’ve been a bit quiet,” Luthor said, his tone smooth and measured. “Perhaps you’d like to answer my question?”
I narrowed my gaze slightly. “You want to know if this is my decision—and not something I’m being forced into.”
Luthor nodded. “Of course. I can only imagine the kind of pressure you must feel now.”
I allowed myself a moment before answering, choosing my words carefully.
“This is the second time I’ve been asked this today,” I began, my voice calm but firm. “So I’ll answer it again—and as many times as I need to.”
I straightened, locking eyes with him. “I understand. As one of the few people who can actually say this, I understand what it means to be Superman. To be born…well created Kryptonian. And what it means to have this vast strength coursing through me. And now, with this opportunity to live freely, I’ve decided to look to him for guidance. To imitate his actions. If I can be even a fraction as great as he is…”
“A person who keeps his promises.”
I paused, my gaze flicking briefly to Superman, locking with his. Reminding him of our agreement. Before turning back to Luthor.
“…That is who I want to be.” I turned back to Luthor. “That is why I’ll sign this Accords.”
A brief silence fell as everyone absorbed my words.
The President’s lips curved into a proud smile, her posture relaxing as she nodded approvingly. Wonder Woman’s expression softened, the weight of her scrutiny easing into quiet respect. Superman’s jaw tightened, his blue eyes steady as they held mine.
And Luthor?
Luthor’s mouth twisted into the faintest shadow of a smile—innocent, even proud. If I didn’t know what kind of man he was, I might have believed it.
“Very well,” he said smoothly. “Let’s proceed.”
Without hesitation, I stepped forward, my boots echoing faintly in the quiet room. The document lay before me, pristine and symbolic, the weight of its implications heavy in the air.
I picked up the pen, my hand steady.
Klarion.
“I’m still here,” the voice chimed in my head, its jagged glee unmistakable. “Your little speech was quite convincing. Kikikikiki.”
“Tell him,” I thought firmly, “that despite everything, the boy believes himself to be as much of a Boy Scout as the Boy Scout is. Tell him the clone remains malleable to the Light.”
“Kikiki. Anything else?”
I tightened my grip on the pen. “Take this damn spell off me.”
Klarion’s laughter roared through my mind, gleeful and wild. “Your wish is my command.”
With the echoes of Klarion’s mad cackling laughter in my ears, I signed the document.
Comments
Oceanus Thetitan
“ Princess, I appreciate your candor, ” fuckign kryptonian pun surely not intended :v
Son-Of-Scorn
Welp that's interesting, definitely didn't expect it to go like this
