Illusiveone
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209: Redoing My Life, Superman 2014 pt.2
🕑 Added 2025-05-30 17:34:32 +0000 UTC“So, how do I look?” Margot asked, stepping back so I could see her full outfit on the video call.
She was still in costume—Dr. Harleen Quinzel, straight from the studio lot in the U.K. where The Dark Knight was filming. Her white doctors coat was a bit crumbled, and her hair was pulled into a tight bun.
“That’s not the doctor’s outfit I was hoping to see you in,” I said, smirking as I leaned toward the screen.
Margot rolled her eyes and laughed. “Don’t worry,” she said with a wink. “There’s still time for that Mr.”
“Oh,” I said, leaning back.
“You look good—exactly how I imagined.” changing the subject back.
“They’re having me do another scene today. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Oh—yeah.” I snapped my fingers. “I forgot to mention it. We decided to shoot a few more scenes—pre-Harley stuff. Little things we can use later—flashbacks, maybe. Or… not. It just made sense to grab it while you’re there.”
“Well,” Margot said, shifting her weight and glancing off-screen, “it’s more than just little stuff. There’s a scene where I attack Batman.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Ah, that too? Don’t you have a scene with Heath as well?”
“Yeah. Nice guy, but he can be very intense right before a scene starts.”
She looked off to the side again—probably someone calling her back to set—and then met my eyes through the screen.
“Don’t worry about the movie release, okay?”
“I’m not worried,” I lied.
Margot gave me a knowing look. “Dan, I’ve been there for almost every one of your movie releases. I know how you get.”
I groaned. “Don’t call me Dan.”
“Dan. Dan. Dan,” she said, smiling like a brat. “Love you. Bye!”
The call cut off.
Shaking my head—still smiling—I grabbed my jacket and stepped out of the apartment. It was 5 November, two days before the release of Superman, and the buzz in the air was something else.
A weekend release—especially a long one, since Veterans Day was on the 11th? Perfect timing.
Today I was heading to an early fan preview: a screening for YouTubers, a few critics in the online movie space, and a select group of fans who had won contests or caught our eye online. That kind of thing wasn’t common yet, but I knew it would be the norm in a few years. I’d pushed hard for it to happen—might as well be the first.
I got into the car and started driving.
John, Matt, and Joanna were all meeting me there. Joanna, especially, had been gunning for this—huge Superman fan, though her obsession leaned more toward Supergirl. Still, she’d insisted on watching it early.
There was competition from Marvel, but I wasn’t worried; Thor: The Dark World was opening the following week and—no offense to Hemsworth—that movie had nothing on us. This wasn’t Iron Man 3 vs. Wonder Woman again, or The Avengers vs. Batman. This was Superman. It felt like a hydrogen bomb versus a coughing baby.
As I drove, Superman was everywhere.
Billboards showed Henry floating in the sky, cape flapping, eyes glowing, arms crossed. Digital ads ran across bus stops and LED screens. Even the fast-food joints were in on it—there was a burger called the “Burger of Steel.” It was good, not great. Sodas came in collector cups shaped like the S-shield. You couldn’t escape it. The campaign had gone nuclear.
Months ago, Henry Cavill’s name barely raised eyebrows outside a certain fandom circle. Now? His face was everywhere. The online hype was insane. I’d watched it build day by day: theories, reaction videos dissecting every second of the trailers, fans counting down the hours on Twitter. Subreddits and forums I lurked in were full of wild speculation enough to make me worry a bit.
I was nervous, because I had my fingerprints all over this one—not just producing. I’d written the story, built this version of Superman from the ground up. If it didn’t work, it would be a huge hit to my reputation and to me personally.
I pulled up to the venue and stepped out of the car, greeted by a buzzing sidewalk. The line wrapped around the building—some people in Superman shirts, others with capes, a few in full cosplay. Phones were out; content was already being filmed.
As I walked toward the front entrance, a few heads turned.
“Yo, that’s Adler!”
“Wait, is that Daniel Adler?!”
“It’s him—holy shit!”
“I figured I’d come see it with you,” I said, turning to them.
A small cheer went up. Someone shouted, “Where’s the new Song of Ice and Fire, Adler?” and laughter followed.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, my friend,” I said with a smirk and slipped inside through a side entrance one of the staff held open for me.
The lobby was quieter. The lights were dim, and the glow from the huge digital Superman posters lit up the walls. People milled around, talking, taking selfies, and munching on free popcorn. I made my way through, nodding hellos to surprised fans who’d managed to get in.
I spotted the YouTubers standing together, chatting. I recognized Jeremy Jahns by the soda machine, animatedly talking to another creator. Near the back wall were a few popular comic and movie reviewers—among them that quirky blonde critic I always found a bit odd, Grace something.
I walked over, catching them off guard. The person I was most excited to meet was JakeTalksComics: short beard, worn Superman tee under an unbuttoned overshirt, nervous energy in his eyes as if he still couldn’t believe he’d been invited. I stepped up before he could register who I was.
“JakeTalksComics,” I said, holding out my hand.
He blinked, surprised, then shook it. “Whoa. Wait—what? You know who I am?”
I smiled. “Love your channel.”
“Thanks, I just—wow. I didn’t expect you to know me.”
“We walk in the same circles, my friend.”
Jake laughed. “Somehow I doubt that.”
I chuckled. “Well… in the comic-fandom circle, at least.”
He was the only creator I didn’t remember from my “past life,” and that made his content fresh and exciting to me. I chatted with him and the others for a while.
“Enjoy the movie,” I said, before ducking into a small staff room near the back of the theater. Outside the door, the excited chatter filtered in—the rustle of snacks, the squeak of sneakers on polished floors, the buzz of anticipation. It was almost time.
I wasn’t alone for long. The door opened, and Matt, John, and Joanna slipped in like a trio of high-schoolers sneaking into a concert.
“Are we late?” Joanna asked, tugging the brim of her baseball cap lower. She was in full incognito mode—hoodie, oversized shades, the works.
“No,” I said, standing. “Right on time.”
“Oh, thank God,” John muttered, throwing his arms up.
“Happy now?” Joanna teased. “You can stop whining.”
John stuck out his tongue like an eight-year-old. Joanna rolled her eyes and muttered something about never growing up.
“Let’s just get inside,” Matt said, practically vibrating. “I can’t wait.”
A staffer guided us through a side door into the theater. The back rows were reserved for us, cordoned off, but the rest of the hall was packed. The atmosphere was electric.
I’d seen the movie many times, including at the premiere, but it never felt quite like this.
Matt shouted, “Start the movie!”
A few chuckles rippled through the audience.
John elbowed me. “Aren’t you supposed to give a speech or something?”
I scoffed. “Fuck no.”
Just then, the house lights dimmed and the screen flickered to life.
The cheers rolled over us like a wave—louder than I expected, as if the crowd had been holding their breath all day. A couple of whoops, scattered claps, someone shouting, “LET’S GO!”
It had begun.
The Stardust logo shimmered onto the screen, followed by the bold flash of the DC shield. A soft, meditative theme began to play as stars twinkled in the darkness. The theater fell silent, everyone holding their breath.
A comet suddenly streaked across the sky—white-blue fire trailing behind—and the camera panned down to an old pickup rumbling along a rural road.
Inside sat Jonathan and Martha Kent, mid-argument.
“You said we were seeing something romantic,” Martha muttered, arms crossed.
Jonathan laughed, eyes still on the road. “It was romantic. The guy literally fought an alien invasion for his girlfriend!”
Martha gave him a look. “There was blood. Everywhere.”
The audience chuckled.
Then—boom. A blinding flash. Something tore through the atmosphere and slammed into a nearby field.
Jonathan hit the brakes.
They leapt out, racing into the corn, flashlight beams bobbing through the stalks. At the center of a smoking crater sat a small, other-worldly craft. Jonathan climbed down, pried the hatch open—and found a baby inside.
As he lifted the child, a slow orchestral hint of the classic Superman theme swelled.
A cheer rippled through the theater, and I didn’t even try to hide my grin.
Martha wrapped the baby in her coat, and the two of them walked back toward the truck.
The title card flared across the screen:
SUPERMAN
Applause erupted.
Matt leaned over. “Great casting for Pa and Ma Kent.”
“Yep,” I whispered, eyes still fixed on the screen.
The movie continued. On screen, Metropolis is shown.
Clark is shown waking up and getting ready for work. He is late and shown to be clumsy. He also gets a call from Martha telling him that she saw some interesting news from Metropolis that there was a flying man sighted and she was sending something to him. Clark acts shocked and tells his mother that he has to go. The audience response was what he expected very positive in the interaction.
He walks to work holding a coffee, his bag slung over his shoulder. The man looked too big to blend in, and yet somehow he did. Glasses, slouched posture, mild-mannered.
As he walked past a newspaper kiosk, he glanced at the Daily Planet headline:
“Flying Man Saves Woman From Falling Off Building”
The grainy photo showed the silhouette of a flying man.
A scene is shown—Clark saving a cat for a little girl. He plucks the cat from the branch just as the little girl watches, wide-eyed. He landed beside her, knelt down, and gave her a wink. She nodded back, clutching the cat.
This got some “awws” from the women in the audience—and some men too.
Clark in the Daily Planet offices is shown. He has a friendship with Jimmy, who the audience immediately loved for his jokes and banter with Clark.
Then there was Lois. She breezed past Clark, barely glancing at him.
“Smallville,” she said.
Clark blinked. “Good morning to you too.”
After some scenes with Clark, who tries to get some stories published—with some funny moments thrown in which thankfully hit with the audience—the antagonist of the movie is shown.
It cut to a man walking across a gray corridor John Corben. He passed soldiers who saluted him. He is greeted by General Sam Lane, already waiting for him in a room.
“You called me back for the Khandaq operation?” Corben asked, his voice flat.
“In part,” Lane replied.
Lane tells him that he has plans for him, and before he can reveal it, the eggheads insist they do some tests.
A quick montage followed—Corben in a lab. Vitals being taken. Blood drawn. Psych evals. Physical stress tests. The guy passed everything with flying colors.
Scene changes to a doctor standing before a panel of officials, flipping through Corben’s file.
“He’s not fit,” the doctor said.
Murmurs. “Why?”
The doctor looked grim. “He killed his own father, for starters.”
Lane backs up Corben, saying his father was an abusive man and Corben had no choice—he did it to protect his sister.
The doctor continues, saying, “And the incident in his last mission in Khandaq...”
Lane stood up. “He’s a patriot. A soldier. He’s the right man for the job.”
Another official pushed, “And how’s he at following orders?”
The doctor hesitated. “Exceptional.”
The scene changes as, on screen, Perry forces Lois to work with Clark, as he too is looking into LexCorp and doesn’t want Lois to do this alone. Lois agrees reluctantly.
The next few scenes featured fun interactions between Clark and Lois as they investigated. Thankfully, Henry and Rachel had good chemistry, and Henry brought out all his acting chops.
I had been worried about the slow start to the story, but it looked like everyone was hooked.
Scenes of Corben being shown what he was selected for followed. He was introduced to Project Sentinel—an exo-suit: steel gray, covered in battle plating. On its chest, a glowing green crystal was revealed. He was told he would wear it and use it to fight against their enemies.
On screen:
“That’s what we found in Khandaq,” Corben muttered.
“We’ve had smaller samples before—Ethiopia, ten years ago. But this is the biggest. And it powers the suit.”
Lane then shows Corben footage of Wonder Woman and Paula fighting, which got a big cheer.
Other images followed: blurry shots that looked like Aquaman, a green streak in the sky, and—to the audience’s delight—an image of Doctor Fate, marked TOP SECRET.
“Holy shit, that’s Doctor Fate!” one guy in the front yelled, followed by cheers.
The Aquaman and Lantern teases completely went over most people’s heads.
Lane tells Corben that the world is changing. These enhanced individuals could become hostile, and they needed a deterrent. Corben is to be that deterrent.
The movie’s first act kept building—scene by scene, moment by moment—mixing humor, heart, and a bit of intrigue.
It cut back to Lois and Clark during their conversations, intercut with flashbacks of Clark’s childhood.
We returned to Clark and Lois walking through the city at dusk. Lois, ever the journalist, kept digging. Clark? Still just trying to keep up. Flashbacks showed young Clark helping with chores on the Kent farm—fixing fences, getting frustrated by his strength, his senses going haywire—and his parents comforting and guiding him through it.
Lex was introduced as Clark and Lois attended an event at LexCorp.
Classic Lex. Sharp suit, smug grin, eyes that saw right through you. He gave a speech about a changing world and new dangers. Lois cornered him and pressed with questions, not even bothering to sugarcoat it.
Lex smoothly dodged her, then turned to her father—General Sam Lane, who was also present—and quipped that he should teach her some manners. The way the scene played out, the audience reacted with a mix of laughs and groans—Lois being publicly burned hit hard.
The plot continued as Lois, along with a hesitant Clark, broke into a private LexCorp shipping dock. They were almost caught by security and then one of the best scenes in the movie played out:
Clark stealthily took out the guards using his speed. A very confused Lois lost sight of him, then startled as he reappeared beside her again.
The audience ate it up.
The next scene was a big one. Back in his apartment after the long day, Clark found a package his mother had told him to expect.
He opened it, and inside wrapped carefully in old newspaper was a handmade suit. Bright red and blue.
A small note:
“Thought you could use something. Like the cartoons you loved as a boy. Love, Mom.”
Clark unfolded the suit.
The S glowed slightly in the light.
There was a flashback of Clark being shown his true origins, an emotional moment for both him and his parents.
He found a crystal in the ship as he investigated it. Drawn by it, he traveled to the Arctic. As he left, Martha and Jonathan looked on, emotional. The score swelled as Clark arrived in the Arctic and created the Fortress with the crystal. Loud cheers erupted as it happened.
He was seen entering it—and then the scene cut back to him returning to the farm, to two very relieved Ma and Pa Kent.
He told them that he now knew who he was. Then he smiled.
“I’m your son.”
Which got a cheer and a good reaction.
John leaned toward me, popcorn halfway to his mouth, and whispered with a grin, “So far so good.”
I nodded.
Act 1 had ended with a bang.
It began with Corben’s first real test run of the exosuit—a tight, tense sequence. The visuals were sharp: the green glow of the crystal pulsing in his chest, HUD displays flickering across his eyes as he moved in the heavy metal armor.
“Knock-off Iron Man,” someone said, to laughs.
I kind of expected that.
John leaned over and said, “Didn’t expect a dig at Marvel.”
“What? No, it’s not,” I replied, genuinely confused why he would think that.
On screen, things descended into chaos.
Suddenly, a surge—Boom! A pulse of green light flashed, and power across the city below flickered.
An EMP.
It caused a passenger plane to lose power.
Cut to Clark, walking back from lunch, sharing a joke with Jimmy Olsen. He stopped dead in his tracks as he heard the screams of the passengers in the plane above.
Jimmy asked, “What’s wrong?”
Clark simply replied, “I forgot something.”
The anticipation built, the music swelling on screen as Clark ran toward the side of a building. An old phone booth stood off to the side—a clever easter egg. He opened his shirt to reveal the Superman suit.
Big cheers erupted from the audience.
The scene cut to Corben, who disobeyed orders, saying he could save the plane. But as he tried, another malfunction caused the suit to plummet from the sky.
The last thing he saw was a red-and-blue streak flying toward the plane.
The audience in the hall exploded in cheers as Superman officially made his debut in the DCU—catching the nose of the crashing plane mid-air.
He held it, skimming just above the skyline, wind blasting around him. His cape billowed. The classic theme—reimagined—swelled as he fought gravity itself.
It all happened right above the Daily Planet. The entire staff—including Lois, Jimmy, and Perry—watched in awe.
“This is it,” I whispered to my friends, grinning.
“What is?” Matt asked.
Then it happened—my cameo.
There I was on screen, holding a camera, snapping a photo, looking up at Superman with wide-eyed amazement.
The theater responded with big cheer.
Right after that, Jimmy burst onto the scene, rushing in. “Hey, what’s happening?” he shouted, completely unaware, still straightening his tie.
“Stuck in the elevator,” he muttered before seeing what is happening and then fumbing for his camera
That moment got some laughs.
Superman flew the plane to the airport, where he landed it safely. Passengers poured out, staring at him in disbelief. Superman smiled, nodded at a child, then took off again.
The scene immediately cut to a huge bundle of newspapers slamming down onto a kiosk stand.
The headline, in bold letters.
“SUPERMAN!”
Below it? Jimmy’s photograph.
Big applause from the crowd. I felt relieved—the first act had been the slowest, but now it was all kicking into gear.
Act 2 had some time jumps.
Clark Kent had officially become Superman, with Lois coining the name in her article after his rescue of the plane.
A montage showed Metropolis embracing him—rescues, interviews, sightings. Graffiti art of his symbol appeared on city walls, kids wore capes, and adults stopped mid-step to look up whenever they heard something flying overhead.
It was also shown that Lois and Clark’s article on their investigation had been published. Their investigation into LexCorp and its shady dealings—including allegations that the near-plane crash was traced back to experimental LexCorp—sparked a wave of scrutiny.
Lex was shown obsessed with Superman, watching news reports like an addict watching his vice. On the surface, he remained calm and polished. But the mask began to crack.
Quiet rage. Cold calculation. The unraveling of a genius ego crushed under the weight of what he believed was a god walking among men.
It was made clear in later scenes that he didn’t hate Superman simply for stealing the spotlight he once believed was his. He hated him because he saw Superman as a moral threat—a cheat code for humanity. A symbol people would worship instead of striving for greatness themselves. Lex believed dependency was weakness, and Superman—despite all the good—was making humanity weaker in his eyes.
From the audience’s reaction whenever Lex appeared, I realized Corey Stoll had done his job well. Lex stole every scene he was in.
Corben was shown to have survived—burned, broken, barely human. Lex claimed to have saved him by replacing most of his body, turning him into a cyborg. The green glowing crystal was now embedded in his chest.
Scenes of his transformation were terrifying—glimpses of steel fused to skin, his arm replaced, his chest hollowed out to make room for the glowing power core.
Corben was shown losing his humanity—and his mind.
He couldn’t eat. Couldn’t feel. Couldn’t even sleep.
Act 2 tracked his descent. Scene after scene showed a man unraveling. Paranoia creeping in. Him staring into a mirror at what he’d become.
There was a scene where he attacked a scientist after they tried to take away the gun he kept under his pillow—further developing his backstory and character. He told Lex in one scene that he kept it like he always had, ever since he killed his father.
Lex manipulated Corben, using Lois’s article to twist the truth—claiming she had accused Corben of causing the crash, and pointing out how Superman was now a worshiped hero, adored by the entire city.
Clark and Lois’s relationship was explored well—Lois and Superman, that is. On screen, there was a scene that paid full homage to the original Donner Superman: a rooftop interview between Lois and Superman.
It was here that he revealed to her his alien origins—Krypton, its destruction, and how he came to Earth.
“Why is the Superman voice different?” Joanna asked, realizing that Henry was speaking in a deeper voice.
“Why not?” I replied.
The I Spent a Night with Superman article was published.
Act 2 ended with the first encounter between Corben and Superman. The movie had been building up to this, and I could feel the anticipation in the room.
Corben escaped from the LexCorp labs after snapping—feeling like a prisoner. He walked the streets of Metropolis wearing a large coat over his metallic body, his face remaining human thanks to synthetic skin grafted over it.
He stumbled upon a newspaper exposé on the Khandaq incident—blaming him for the deaths of 50 people. His name ruined.
Corben snapped and began attacking people, shouting that no one had gratitude. His mind had completely fractured after months of trauma.
Superman showed up—and the theater went nuts.
The best scene in the movie was when Superman, after trying to talk Corben down, was hit by him—only for Clark to not even flinch. Corben’s hand broke on impact.
“OH SHIT.”
“YEAH BABY!”
“LET’S GO, SUPES!!”
The moment got a huge cheer.
Though it didn’t last long.
When Clark tried to stop Corben from attacking nearby civilians, he hit him with enough force to open his chest—revealing the glowing green crystal. Kryptonite.
The effects of the Kryptonite on Superman were shown from his perspective:
His vision blurred.
Sounds warped.
The world bent violently—super-hearing twisted into a deafening roar, heat vision fizzled into static, his breath caught in his throat. Muscles locked up.
Corben, seeing this, punched again—this time it landed, and it looked like it hurt the Man of Steel.
Clark staggered back, gasping.
“Oh yeah, he’s done,” I heard someone a few rows down say.
Corben then manhandled Superman.
Another hit—Supes reeled, crashing into a parked car.
The next—a backhand—sent him flying into the side of a building. Stone cracked, glass shattered, a chunk of the wall collapsed.
Debris tumbled from above—people below screamed.
A small group of civilians—two teens, an older woman, a man trying to shield them—were in the wrong place at the worst time.
Clark’s eyes widened. His instincts kicked in.
He pushed through the pain, forcing himself forward—
But his body betrayed him.
He stumbled.
Fell.
He reached out a trembling hand, eyes locked on the falling debris—and couldn’t.
A slab of concrete hit the ground.
Dust rose.
Screams rang out.
Clark screamed, “NO!”
He finally forced himself to crawl toward them, pulling chunks of stone away—but he was too late.
Corben continued his onslaught as the Kryptonite weakened Superman further—only stopping when he was hit by bullets from the police, causing him to malfunction and collapse.
=======
The final act began with Lex figuring out that the green glowing crystal—referred to up to this point as Element X—was the source of Superman’s weakness.
He called it Kryptonite, having pieced together Superman’s origins from Lois Lane’s article.
Lex theorized that Kryptonite had come from Krypton itself, and he began enacting his plan.
He completed Corben’s transformation into Metallo.
Corben had completely lost his humanity. Lex told him that only he could defeat the alien who had invaded their planet.
Revealing what Kryptonite really was, Lex gave Corben a purpose—the only purpose he had left.
Corben agreed to the painful process, becoming the perfect weapon to kill Superman.
His humanity was stripped away, shown in brutal detail to further develop his character.
The scene ended with Metallo asking, “What are my mission parameters?”
Lex smiled down at him.
Clark’s final step in becoming Superman was shown as he was still sick from Kryptonite exposure. He sent a worried Jimmy and Lois away and returned home.
What followed were some of the most heartfelt scenes in the movie.
Martha and Jonathan Kent sat with their son—bruised, broken. They reminded him that he couldn't save everyone... and that’s okay. That his strength wasn’t in always succeeding—it was in trying anyway. Always.
Clark, now more assured and dealing with his guilt over the deaths that happened during the fight with Metallo, left for the Fortress.
I knew a big reaction was coming as Clark entered, and the camera panned to reveal Jor-El standing there—played by Viggo Mortensen.
The theater exploded in cheers as Matt looked at me, shouting, “ARAGORN! You got ARAGORN as Jor-El!”
I laughed, the crowd still buzzing from the reveal.
Jor-El was shown similar to how Russell Crowe's Jor-El had been portrayed in the Man of Steel movie from my old life. Clark—or Kal-El—had a heartfelt conversation with him. Jor-El imparted wisdom, telling him he had always known Clark would be like a god among humans, and that he was proud of the person he had become. That line got applause.
He also told him about the Kryptonite, theorizing what it could be. Jor-El then had Clark supercharged with yellow sun rays to help him heal and warned him not to go near the green crystal again.
The climax of the movie began with Metallo kidnapping Lois to lure Superman out. Clark saw the news from home.
Martha, standing beside him, said, “I’m going to get your suit from the wash.”
The score deepened as Clark flew back to Metropolis—big cheers all around.
The final battle began. Clark and Corben clashed—first in a park, then in a closed steel factory in the industrial district. Clark threw Metallo there, trying to keep the fight away from civilians.
Then one of the best scenes played out—met with cheers and awe—as Corben, thrown into a vat of molten steel, emerged from it. His synthetic skin was gone. His human face was gone. Only the raw metal remained, with the glowing Kryptonite pulsing in his chest.
A clear homage to The Terminator—from Brad Bird’s school of storytelling—the scene looked like something out of a horror movie, especially with the haunting score.
“That’s so cool, man,” I heard someone whisper nearby.
The final fight was brutal. Clark, still weakened from Kryptonite exposure, was manhandled by Metallo. As the battle returned to the city, Clark tried to save as many people as he could—even in his weakened state.
The final scene showed Superman trying to hold up a collapsing building with people trapped beneath, unable to escape. He was weakening fast as Metallo approached, the Kryptonite glowing.
Lex’s voice crackled through Metallo’s comm: “Finish him.”
Clark was kneeling. Bleeding. Still holding the structure up.
Corben had a moment of lucidity. His humanity returned as he saw a little girl cowering under the rubble—memories of his sister hiding with him from their father flooded back.
The theater was silent, breath held.
That one memory... that one sliver of humanity... resurfaced. He saw Superman trying to save people even though he was dying.
Corben hesitated.
Lex shouted through the comms: “KILL HIM!”
And in a moment of total defiance—against Lex, against everything—Corben ripped the Kryptonite from his chest and hurled it away from Superman.
With what little power he had left, he helped Clark hold the building just long enough.
People got out.
He told Clark to go, too.
Clark replied, “Not without you.”
Corben shook his head. “I’m already dead.”
The crowd began pulling Superman away.
The building collapsed.
Corben was crushed beneath the rubble.
There was a huge round of applause as the last sequence wrapped up.
The movie ended with Clark returning to work.
In the final scene, Lois looked at Clark—then at a photo of Superman—then back to Clark. Her eyes lingered, suspicious.
The final scene of the movie included Lex.
On screen:
Lex Luthor.
Back in his tower. Nighttime. Alone.
He turned his chair and paused. His expression froze.
Superman floated silently outside the glass, arms crossed, cape waving in the wind.
The theater erupted in cheers. Someone yelled, “Get him, Supes!” and another guy shouted back, “Get him, Lex!”—which led to some laughter.
On screen, Lex stood and walked to the balcony, that usual confident sneer on his face.
“I’m afraid we already had our windows cleaned,” he said.
Superman didn’t respond.
Lex kept going, playing the showman. “Ah, the silent treatment.”
He looked out at the city. “I own Metropolis,” he said. “My technology built it. My will keeps it going. Most of the people work for me—whether they know it or not.”
Then he turned his back on Superman—the camera catching Clark hovering silently behind him.
Lex continued, “And yet, I thought... why limit myself to a single city? A being with your abilities would be very useful to me. On, shall we say... a global scale.”
He smirked, returning to his desk. “Why don’t you float in and we can discuss it?”
Again—Superman said nothing.
Lex’s calm began to crack.
“Say something,” he snapped, picking up a model of the exosuit and hurling it at Superman.
Superman caught it.
Crushed it in one hand.
And finally said,
“I’ll be watching you, Luthor.”
Then he flew off—cape catching the moonlight—leaving Lex fuming.
He shouted, “Wait! I’m not finished with you!”
Cue another round of cheers and whistles.
Someone yelled, “Run for President, Luthor!”
More laughter rippled through the room.
And then came the final image—Superman flying high over Metropolis as the score swelled and the screen faded to black.
Credits rolled.
And honestly? Every name got applause.
The cast. The crew.
But when it hit:
“Story by Daniel Adler & Scott Snyder”—people clapped even harder.
The screen faded to black... but we all knew it wasn’t over.
The post-credit scene kicked in—immediately catching everyone’s attention.
A wide shot of deep space. Quiet. Cold.
Then—a ship. Sleek. Alien. Gliding through the void.
Inside, lights flickered to life.
A robotic voice, emotionless:
“Kryptonian presence detected. Sector 23456.”
And then—him.
Just a silhouette.
But unmistakable.
Brainiac.
He stepped forward slowly into the light, only partially revealed—just enough to show the glowing lines, the cold expression, the calculating menace.
“Change course.”
That was it. Nothing more.
The crowd exploded. People screamed.
Someone actually started a “BRAI-NI-AC! BRAI-NI-AC!” chant in the back of the hall. I laughed.
It was perfect.
Joanna was the first to speak as the house lights came up.
She turned to me, raised an eyebrow, and grinned. “Good movie, Adler. I’m impressed.”
I smirked, trying not to look as relieved as I felt. “Let’s hope the world thinks that too.”
As we made our way out, the energy was electric. I kept hearing bits of conversations—people quoting lines.
I met some of the YouTubers again, with Jeremy Jahns joking, “You accidentally made a Metallo movie.”
“I’ll be watching out for your video,” I said to JakeTalksComics with a grin.
Jake looked dazed, like he’d just stepped off a rollercoaster. “I’m gonna make that video in the car, man...”
I then took some photos with fans and the YouTubers as well, before leaving with my friends. We grabbed something to eat and finally headed home.
The biggest nerds in the fandom were happy with the movie.
Now it just needed to make some money.
.
.
I’m not satisfied with this chapter.
Don’t know something feels off to me.
But I’ve decided: this will be the final draft so here it is.
Comments
JL
Good chaprer!
JL
“I’m going to get your suit from the wash” that’s a perfect line for the trailer lololol
