We Are Luthors

   Lex Luthor had a severely overblown idea of his importance in the world.
   In high school, he'd begun shaving his head.  Lionel had always assumed—quite correctly—that it was Lex's vain attempt to distance himself from his peers.
   As Lex walked into his father's office, he tilted his head slightly upward in smug arrogance.
   "Hey, dad.  How goes the war?"
   Lionel almost sneered back at his son.  "Joviality is not one of your best qualities, son."
   Lex didn't take the hint.  "Oh, come on, dad.  Bruce Wayne nearly got killed last week, and I've got nearly enough capital to take out WayneTech's Metropolis branch—if he survives long enough to take it over anyway."
   Lex would simply not stop talking, much to Lionel's chagrin. He walked to the office's window, casually taking in the extraordinary view of the city.
   "The papers said that it might have been the mob, or maybe corporate warfare."
   Lex half-turned to his father and gave him a grin. "Apparently someone's doing our dirty work for us."
   Before Lionel could chastise Lex, the office door swung open.  A tall woman with barely-contained anger strode across the room, her forceful footsteps thudding into the carpeted floor.
   Lionel immediately switched into his "friendly businessman" mode, greeting her warmly.  "Ah, Valerie, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
   Valerie ignored the false kindness of Lionel's words, and she didn't care that his son was in the room.
"Lionel, I'm your lawyer, not your friend.  Don't pretend otherwise."
   Lionel leaned back and let his face go grim.  "Alright; what's the situation?"
   Valerie didn't even take another breath before shouting her answer.  "Lionel, WHAT were you thinking, walking into a PUBLIC HIGH SCHOOL and practically handing them evidence against you?"
   Lionel tried to play innocent.  "Valerie, I'm not sure I know what—"
   She pulled a sound recorder out of her purse and hit the play button.
   Lionel's voice could be unmistakeably heard:
   "I don't know how you three survived, or what exactly you did to those men and that car, but I assure you that this is not over."
   Valerie didn't give Lionel time to respond. "Some kid reporter TAPED you threatening her this morning, and the school's security cameras have you on video walking into that classroom."
   Lionel frowned. "Luthorcorp runs the security for that building; that video should have never been let out!"
   "WayneTech took over the school's security yesterday, Lionel.  They were more than happy to release the video to the authorities," Valerie said.
   The room was silent for a moment.
   "What's the next step now?" Lionel asked.
   Valerie sighed in frustration, and rubbed her forehead.  "Now you lay low.  Fortunately, you didn't say anything directly incriminating, so we can get you out of this. But you're going to be under a lot of scrutiny, Lionel.  The police have been waiting for you to slip up like this for years, and every reporter that you don't already have under your thumb will be after you.  Don't do anything that could even possibly be seen as suspicious."
   Without another word, she walked out.
   Staring in shocked silence, Lex finally spoke. "Dad... you ordered that attack on Bruce?"
   Lionel glared back at his son.  "Yes."
   Lex wasn't sure what to think.  "But... but we're not killers... we're—"
   Lionel interrupted. "We're conquerors, Lex," he said as he stood up from his chair.
   Lex looked back and forth around the room, his mind racing. "But... I thought we were going to take down Wayne Enterprises, not kill Bruce.  We're not murderers..."
   Lionel took a slow step forward.  Then, suddenly, without warning, he backhand-slapped Lex across the face.
   Lex, shocked, fell back against the wall.
   Lionel stared down at his son, his voice ringing with a venomous disdain.  "You think you're somehow aiding me with your teenage brat club at school?  You think that getting a few spoiled children together will somehow help you topple Wayne Enterprises?  Let me explain something to you, Lex: Wayne Enterprises will not die so easily.  I have tried to bring them down in the past, but the Wayne family has a tendency to pull miracles out of thin air."
   Lionel looked deep into his son's eyes, making every word burn into Lex's mind.
   "We are Luthors, Lex.  We are conquerors; we are kings; we rule this city.  Bruce Wayne is a false god: a pretender to the throne of Metropolis.  If he will not relinquish his claim, then he must be removed."

The Monday After

   Diana, Clark, and Lois met in the Star's office on Monday morning.
   They walked into the room, sat down, and looked at each other in awkward silence.  No one knew quite what to say.
   Lois spoke first.  "So, hey, I never got to... to thank you guys for what you did."
   Clark half-smiled at her, as if to say "you're welcome."
   Diana gave Lois a similar smile, with a polite nod.
   Clark spoke up, frowning a little. "Um, Lois..."
   She interrupted him. "Don't worry, Clark.  I won't spread your secrets."
   "Thanks," Clark replied with a slight sigh of relief.
   "No problem," Lois answered.  "You guys saved my life; I guess the least I can do is not tell everyone that you're secretly an amazon and an alien."
   Clark gave her a slightly unbelieving look.  "You seem rather... unsurprised."
   Lois shrugged.  "I think it runs in my family.  My cousin's a real conspiracy theorist; she used to tell me all the time about all the craziness in her town, and how she was convinced that it was because of weird paranormal stuff.  I always told her that she was just being paranoid, but, somehow, I think I always knew she was right.  When I saw you guys doing your 'hero thing,' it just sort of... made sense."
   Clark frowned.  "I don't think we were exactly 'heroes.'  The men in that car turned up dead."
   Diana was surprised at him. "Clark! They tried to kill us! They got their deserved end."
   "They're still human beings! They didn't need to die!" Clark responded.
   Lois interjected. "Clark, the police said that the men were shot, probably by whomever else was working with them.  It wasn't your fault."
   Clark didn't listen.  "I could have pulled them away; I could have kept them from being killed..."
   Diana and Lois stayed silent for a moment, realizing Clark's pain.  He was different than most; he was extremely compassionate, and mourned even the death of someone who had tried to do him harm.
   Lois tried to lighten the mood a bit.  "Well, the police found out that the men who attacked us had been loosely linked to Lionel Luthor in the past.  Bruce says that from what he's heard, the police have been spreading all over Luthorcorp like a plague.  Luthor can't afford to move forward with his plans for Metropolis now that his every minute move is being watched."
   "So how much more time do we have?" Clark asked.
   "Maybe another month or two," Lois replied.
   Clark nodded in acknowledgment.
   Lois finally couldn't stand avoiding the elephant in the room.
   "Clark, I'm sorry about Bruce. He—"
   "It's okay," Clark interjected.
   "No, it's not," Lois replied.  "He's just... not a very trusting person.  But he'll come around eventually.  I think."
   Footsteps were heard coming down the hallway.  Hard footsteps, like expensive shoes clacking against the tiled floor of the school.   A man stepped into the Star's doorway.  He wore a long black overcoat over his business suit.  A grudging smirk was set on his face, and his eyes burned with a disdain for the young occupants of the room.
   It was Lionel Luthor.
   Lois was a bit frightened.
   Diana shifted slightly in her seat, as if readying herself for him to attack.
   Clark stood up, his jaw firmly set and his muscles tensed. He stared Lionel down from across the room, as if to say "Don't even dare to try anything."
   Their reactions, of course, were unnecessary.  Lionel posed no physical threat to them on his own, and there was nothing that his employees could do to hurt them while they were still inside of a public school.  But Lionel had a way of inspiring fear in those who truly knew what a monster he was.
   "Ah; you must be Lois Lane," he said.  His words were polite, but his eyes made it clear that he was not pleased to meet her.  "I've heard a lot about you."
   He turned to the others.  "And Miss Prince, and Mister... Kent, is it?"
   Diana was silent, and Clark's only reply was his continuous angered stare.
   Lionel made sure to look them each briefly in the eye once more before speaking again.  When he spoke, his voice contained a quiet, graveled venom that betrayed his darker side. "I don't know how you three survived, or what exactly you did to those men and that car, but I assure you that this is not over."
   With that, he walked out.

I'm Always Here For You

   Clark stood in the loft of the Kent family's barn.  It had been two days since the incident at Bruce's penthouse, and Clark still wasn't sure what to think of it all.
   Before his move to Metropolis, the loft had been his personal refuge—his place of solitude.  Watching the sunset from the barn's large window was a ritual for him, and one that he'd missed now that he didn't spend much time in Smallville anymore.  Although he was back in his hometown, he felt somewhat disconnected from it.  As far as anyone in Smallville knew—other than the Kents, of course—he'd been living in Metropolis since the beginning of Summer.  He'd lost contact with Pete, and Chloe apparently couldn't handle being around him anymore.  He hadn't seen her since she'd first discovered his secret.
   Clark heard footsteps on the wooden stairway behind him.
   It was Chloe.
   She slowly walked over to Clark, not saying a word.  She looked nervous, as though she was afraid of falling down with every step she took.  She looked up into his eyes.  The quippy, sharp-witted young woman that Clark had grown up with had faded, and in her place was a vulnerable girl who barely knew what to think.

   "So you're back?..."
   Clark felt his heart sink a little at her words.
   "No, not really... I'm just here for right now."
   Chloe tried feigning casual conversation for a moment, throwing him one of her huge smiles. "So... where do you live in Metropolis? Is it nice?" Her voice cracked a bit as she spoke, betraying her emotions.
   Clark politely ignored her obvious emotional signals. "Actually... I still live here.  I just spend most of my time in Metropolis, then run back here to sleep."
   Chloe gave him one of her confused looks as a thousand thoughts rushed through her mind.
   What? He's been living here the whole time?
   How did he fool the school's registration into thinking he lived in Metropolis?
   How could I not have known?
   "You've... been here?  The whole time?  Why didn't you tell me?"
   Clark stepped back a bit, looking embarassedly at the floor.  "Chloe, when you found out about me... when you ran away, I thought that you didn't want to see me again.  That's... part of why I decided to leave."
   Chloe's eyes went wider with understanding and guilt.  "Clark, I... I was just a little overwhelmed.  I needed some time to deal with what you showed me, but I wasn't..."
   Chloe stopped for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut and sending tears streaming down her cheeks.  She looked back up at him, her wet eyes glistening. "You're my best friend; I don't care what planet you're from."
   Still overcome with tears, she smiled brightly, and jovially shrugged.  "I'll always love you."
   Clark was surprised and touched.  He embraced his friend, holding her in his arms.  "I'm so sorry, Chloe; I should have told you before."
   Chloe's sense of humor was still surviving her tears. "Hey, it's not like I'd be winning any awards for 'best friend ever.'"
   She leaned back out of the hug.  "So... what else—besides my horrific reaction—made you want to leave Smallville?"
   Clark's eyes drifted off into the distance as he delved into thought.  He turned back toward the sunset.
   "I think that I have my powers for a reason."
   "...Because you're an alien?" Chloe jokingly responded.
   Clark turned back to her and gave her the "you know that's not what I meant" look. "I mean that I have a destiny.  I can use my powers to help people.  But I need to get out into the world to learn how."
   Chloe was starting to understand.
   "And staying in Smallville isn't exactly conducive to your 'super-hero training,' huh?"
   Clark nodded.  "That's actually one of the reasons that I've decided to be a journalist.  I figure that if I'm a member of the press, I can learn about disasters as they happen.  Maybe I can stop some of them."
   Chloe smiled proudly.  "And when you're not out saving people, you can use your amazing powers of journalistic eloquence to educate the people as to these dangers."
   Clark smiled back.  "Yeah.  I thought you might like that."
   "Well... I know you're busy out there learning to save the world, but don't forget that you've still got some people here in Smallville who'd like to see you from time to time."
   Clark beamed at her. "Thanks."
   Chloe noticed Clark's unusually happy reaction and paused for a moment. Suddenly, she realized Clark's internal dilemma.
   "Clark... you're not alone.  No matter where you are, or what two-ton vehicle you're punching in the face, don't forget that I'm always here for you."
   Clark couldn't help himself from smiling.  He breathed a sigh of relief, and took her words in.
   I'm not alone.
   "Thanks, Chloe. You sure the whole 'alien' thing doesn't bother you?"
Chloe almost laughed, and her comical cynicism shone through.  "Clark, honestly, compared to most people, aliens are a step up."

In the Clouds

   Clark stood in the clouds, alone in pensive thought.
   Diana floated up from below, slowly resting in the air next to him.  Clark barely seemed to notice her presence, keeping his eyes staring blankly forward.
   Diana raised her right eyebrow slightly.  "You don't seem surprised that I can fly."
   Clark responded without turning.  "I figured you might be able to.  You tripped in the hall yesterday, but didn't fall over.  It reminded me of how I used to catch myself when I first got my flight power."
She smirked at that.
   Diana's face went serious. "What's wrong, Clark?"
   Clark hesitated before replying.  "I... I can hear everything.  From up here, I can hear every living soul in the city.  I can hear their heartbeats, their laughter, and their screams. Every day, I hear them crying out for help.  But no matter what I do, they always end up hating me when they find out what I am."
   Diana tried to reassure him.  "Clark, don't let Bruce bother you.  He doesn't understand."
   "No, Diana, he understands perfectly," Clark quickly replied.  "He's right; I'm not human."
   Diana half-smiled.  "Neither am I, technically.  Does it matter?"
   Clark turned to her.  "Diana, we're floating in the clouds."
   Her smile faded slowly as his simple words sunk in.  Here, a mile above the city, they were literally on an inhuman plane of existence.
   "Clark, you're missing the point.  We're who and what we are for a reason."
   Clark was suddenly reminded of his Kryptonian mother's words:
   "You can be a great leader; use your power to inspire others..."
   "Always remember who you are, and where you come from..."
   Clark shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and cleansed himself of doubt.
   Diana smiled at him, putting her hand affectionately on his arm. "And even if they won't accept us, we still have each other."

* * *

   Back at Bruce's tower, Lois was furious.
   "Bruce!  How could you say that to him?!"
   "Lois, you saw what he did! He's dangerous!"
   "Yeah, I saw what he did.  If he and Diana hadn't been so 'dangerous,' I would've died. You probably would have, too.  Bruce, you at least owe them something for that."
   "What do you know about these two people?  You've not even known them for a week!"
   "And in that week, they've saved my life."
   "They have too much power to be trusted."
   "Bruce, the only person with a trust problem here is you!"
   The room went silent for a moment.
   Lois began speaking again, more calmly. "Bruce, I love you; you know that.  But Clark is the most genuine person I've ever met in my entire life.  I think that if there's anyone on the planet that we can trust, it's him."

Chloe

Four Months Ago

   "What secrets lie within the mind of young Clark Kent?"

   Clark snapped out of his daydreaming trance and looked down to see Chloe Sullivan giving him a look of simultaneous amusement and intrigue.  Before Clark could answer her rhetorical question, Chloe looked down the hall in the direction Clark had been staring, quickly spotting Lana Lang, Smallville High's cheerleader captain.  A wide grin spread across Chloe's face, and Clark readied himself for the inevitable verbal jab.
   "Lana Lang. Of course. Y'know, I bet if you just stare at her for a while longer, she's bound to fall madly in love with you."
   Clark rolled his eyes.  Though she'd been teasing him, Clark knew that she was right. Chloe's sense of humor, while highly sarcastic, had real genuineness of heart behind it.  Generally only those who were very close to her understood this.  Fortunately, Clark was one of those people.
   Returning Chloe's sarcasm, Clark cocked an eyebrow at her and replied, "thanks for the advice."
   Pete Ross walked up behind the two of them.  "Hey guys; what's up?"
   Chloe flashed her trademark mischievous smile. "Clark's staring at Lana from afar."
   Pete looked at Clark. "Again?  You know, Clark, you're never gonna get with her if you just sit on your butt all day."
   Clark rolled his eyes again. "So I hear."
   The halls of Smallville High were abuzz with activity.  It was the last day of the spring semester, and all the students were excited about the onset of Summer.
   A tall boy wearing a letterman jacket walked up to the group.  He had a sideways grin on his face, and his eyes were set on Chloe.  Stopping a few inches inside her personal space, he looked down at her and simply said "hey," grinning like a moron.
   Chloe returned his gaze, her right eyebrow cocked in a "what on earth could you possibly think you're going to get from me?" expression.
   "Yes, Sean?" she replied.
   Sean was completely oblivious to her demeanor—or he just didn't care.  "You wanna go with me to the Remy Zero concert tonight?"
   Chloe's eyes narrowed.  "Sean, why on earth would you ask me?  You could ask any one of those other air-headed cheer-losers over there"—she signaled with her eyes to the cheerleaders down the hall—"so why me?  You know I'm one of the few women in this school smart enough to refuse you."
   Sean was undeterred, and still grinning. "Maybe I just can't resist a challenge."
   Chloe's face went serious. "I can."
   She walked away.
   Pete and Clark made eye contact with Sean, gave him the "hey, that's Chloe" shrug, then followed her.
   "Man, Chloe, where's a girl like you get that edge?" Pete asked.
   Shooting a proud smile over her shoulder, Chloe responded, "my dad says it runs in the family."
   The three teens walked into the Smallville Torch's office.  Chloe, being mature beyond her fifteen years of age, had been awarded the position of Editor of the school paper—a position she relished.  As soon as she stepped through the door, she seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.  She was never as comfortable as when she was free to buzz about the office, researching and writing.
   Clark watched Chloe delve into her work and smiled a little.  Though she looked like a normal teenage girl, she acted like a slightly high-strung adult.
   "So, Miss Sullivan, what's going to be in the school year's final issue of the Smallville Torch?" Pete jovially asked.
   Chloe happily handed him a copy of the paper. "See for yourself; straight from the printers this morning."
   Pete skipped to the editorial section.  "'Smallville High Endures Worst Year Ever'? Geez, Chloe, don'tcha think that's kind of a downer for the beginning of Summer?"
   Chloe responded quickly. "This year, we've had one principal, two teachers, and six students killed, all under mysterious circumstances.  People should be aware of what's going on."
   Pete rolled his eyes in a friendly tease. "'Mysterious circumstances', 'mysterious circumstances'... lemme know when you decide to come back down to Earth.  I'll see you guys later."
   After Pete walked out, Chloe sighed and gave her "whatever" eyebrow raise at the doorway.
   Not many people gave Chloe's conspiracy theories much credit.  Between that and her generally flippant demeanor, she managed to drive most people away.  As far as Clark knew, he and Pete were her only two real friends.
   Clark tried to comfort her after Pete's jocund dismissal.  "Hey, you wanna go get some coffee?  And then maybe we can go to the annual Summer festival afterward?"
   Chloe brightened up.  "Sure!  Oh, but I need to go run this letter to the post office; can I meet you there?"
   "Yeah, sure.  I'll see you there."
   Clark and Chloe both had amazingly bright, genuine smiles.  If an observer had been standing in the room, they would have been metaphorically blinded.

   Clark walked down main street towards the coffee shop, still smiling goofily for no apparent reason other than he thought that it had been a good day so far.  A screech and a squeal snapped him from his lazy happiness, and he looked up to see a school bus zooming down the street, waving back and forth in an obvious lack of control.  From the panicked look Clark saw on the driver's face, he guessed that the brakes were out.
   Clark was a blur, sprinting towards the front of the bus.  Leaning forward, with one leg bent and the other set backwards for support, he put his hands forward to catch the speeding metal monstrosity.
   The bus hit him with a thud, a crash, and a shower of sparks.  It pushed Clark back, scooting him down the paved street for another thirty feet.  Carefully cushioning the front of the bus with his arms and using his flight power to adjust the amount of friction he put on the ground, Clark slowed the bus safely.  By the time he was done, however, the front of the bus had almost bent around him.
   Taking a quick glance upward, he saw that he hadn't been seen by the driver.  Keeping low so as to avoid the bus windows, he scanned the street for any onlookers that might have seen his feat of strength.  Miraculously, the open shops on the street weren't able to see Clark crouched in front of the bus from that angle, and the streets were unusually clear of pedestrians.  Of course, he thought.  The Summer festival; everyone's there.  This bus was probably on its way there right now.
   But just as Clark was getting ready to speed away from the inevitable onlookers, he noticed that there was, in fact, one person on the street.  From the angle at which she stood, she had probably seen the whole incident.
   It was Chloe.
   Clark spent the next few hours explaining everything to her.  He—reluctantly—showed her his powers: his speed, his strength, and his flight.  He showed her the ship in the storm cellar, and described what he had learned from the golden box: that he was an alien; that he was from a planet called "Krypton;" that he wasn't who she thought he was.  He apologized a dozen times over for all the lies he'd told her over the years, but didn't ask for her forgiveness.  In truth, he didn't feel that he deserved it.
   Chloe was strangely silent, barely speaking the entire time.  She didn't truly respond or react to anything Clark said.  She seemed numb to his words, as though she'd been punched in the stomach and was still too deep in shock to realize that she was hurt.
   After Clark had explained all he knew that he could, they stood together on the front driveway of the Kent farm.  The wind blew through the fields, rustling every tree branch and blade of grass.  The world around Clark and Chloe swirled with noise, but the silence between them was pungent. 
   Finally, Chloe looked Clark in the eyes, and opened her mouth to speak.
   "Clark, I—"
   She couldn't help herself. She fell into tears, her face terribly stricken with sadness.
   "Why didn't you..."
   Frustrated anger set in.
   "Who are you?! What happened to Clark?!  My friend?!"
   Clark tried to reassure her. "Chloe, it's me! I'm the same guy you always knew before!"
   Chloe shook her head in tears, and backed away from him.  She turned away from the farm and ran.  It was a two-mile walk back to town, and she knew it.  She didn't care.
   Clark didn't know what to do.
   Clark's parents had accepted him, even after knowing everything.  But Chloe hadn't.  Though he'd never told her so, Chloe was perhaps Clark's dearest friend.  She was his dearest friend, and now she had run away in fear of him.  For the first time in his entire life, Clark Kent felt truly alone.

Mistrust

(Note: I am posting this at 2:30am, so my proofreading skills are not quite what they should be. Sorry.  :P  Also, I've also gone back to an earlier chapter and written in the fact that Diana is almost always wearing boots.  She likes boots.)

   "What did you see happen?"
   "I saw a bullet hit my living room window, and ran downstairs to catch up with my friends."
   "And when you got down there, what happened?"
   "I heard gunshots, and saw the others running back inside the building.  We found a safe place to hide and waited for the authorities to arrive."
   "Do you have any idea why these men would've been after you?"
   "No."
   "You're sure about that?"
   "Yes."
   The others gave the police the same story: that they'd run back inside when the gunmen started shooting, and somehow managed to avoid being shot.  None of them had any idea how the car had been crunched, or why the two men were shot dead in their seats.
   Eventually, the police left Bruce's tower, taking the window with the bullet in it. Fortunately, Bruce had several spares, as he was slightly paranoid about windows being broken.  Alfred, being a one-man housekeeping crew, was more than able to change a common household bulletproof window pane.  When he was finished, the Star journalists and Bruce sat back down in the living room.  Alfred shut the blinds, but that didn't help Lois's mood.  "Bruce, are you sure it's safe to be up here?  I mean, they shot right at you while you were sitting here!"
   Bruce kept his tone calm—as calm as Bruce ever got, anyway.  "That window is completely bulletproof.  Unless they fire a missile at us, we'll be safe."
   Lois looked worriedly at the window, then at Bruce. "...can they fire a missile at us?"
   "No."
   Lois realized that Bruce was somewhat annoyed at her questions, and noticed that he wasn't even making eye contact with her—he was staring across the table at Clark, his eyes slightly squinted in a suspicious manner.
   Clark, looking annoyed and angry at Bruce's silent assault, finally responded. "Yes, Bruce?"
Bruce leaned in slightly, his tone being somewhat gravelly as he spat out the words.  "You want to tell me how you punched a two-ton car like it was a tin can?"
   Clark sighed and lowered his head.  He wasn't sure how to explain it all, and he slowly gathered his thoughts.
   The girls weren't bothered in the slightest by what Clark had done.  They were both in a slight state of wonderment, but they didn't share Bruce's suspicion at all.
   Lois just accepted the fact that Clark had done it, and—while she was certainly curious—it didn't matter to her how he'd done it.  Despite her reporter's instinct, she trusted Clark, no matter how apparently indestructible his fists were.  For once in her life, she was simply able to accept something at face value: that Clark was some kind of herculean hero, and that she was forever grateful to him.
Diana had always suspected that something was different about Clark—as though they shared a certain kindred state of being.  She was surprised when Clark had punched the car, but not shocked.  She was excited to hear his explanation.
   As Clark began speaking, the girls leaned in, wide-eyed.  For once, Alfred wasn't busy cleaning the house in the background; he stood near the kitchen, intently watching and listening.  Bruce didn't shift in the slightest, keeping his unblinking stare centered on Clark.
   "I'm... not human."
   Lois was actually surprised.  Diana was intrigued.  Bruce simply said "obviously."
   "I'm from... another planet.  I don't know very much about it, but something went wrong on that world, and my parents sent me here in a spaceship when I was a baby."
   Lois's mouth was hanging open, with her left eyebrow raised in an "are you serious?" expression.
   Bruce was unconvinced and highly sarcastic.  "So, what, you're an interplanetary Moses?  Right."
   Clark was annoyed.  "Bruce, I don't know what other proof you need.  I got into a fistfight with a car and won.  I'm not of this world."
   Although Bruce wanted to be skeptical, he could see that, at the very least, Clark believed what he was saying.  He redirected his anger at Diana.
   "And what are you?  Some kind of amazon warrior?"
   Diana couldn't help but smile a little.  "Yes, actually."
   Lois's eyes went wide. Holy crap! I was right!
   Bruce gave Diana a very serious "WHAT?" face.
   Diana continued. "I'm from an island in the Aegean Sea; my people are indeed the Amazons."
   Bruce decided to humor her.  "So what are you doing here?"
   Diana, unlike Clark, didn't hesitate before declaring her heritage.  "I am Princess Diana of Themyscira, daughter of Queen Hippolyta, and Ambassador of Truth to the world of man."
   Lois was slightly confused. "Wait, hang on, Ambassador of Truth?"
   Diana smiled. "Yes. My charge is to one day become the ambassador to this world; an example to its people.  I've been... gifted with certain abilities, like Clark"—she shot an uncomfortably affectionate smile Clark's way—"and one of those gifts is the ability to seek out truth.  In this world full of deception, I can use that ability to protect others."
   Lois was still giving her a quizzical look. "...how?"
   Diana pulled a long, golden rope from her purse.  It shone like metal, but bent as easily as silken cord.  It was looped at the end.
   "This is the Lasso of Truth.  Under its influence, no man, woman, or god can lie."
   She reached across the table, holding out her hand towards Lois.  Unsure of exactly what was going on, Lois reached her hand back across the table.  Diana gently took Lois's hand, and wrapped the lasso's loop about her wrist.
   She spoke with authority, and a twinkle in her eye. "Lois, how do you feel about Bruce?" The lasso began to glow with a golden-yellow light, and Lois's body went slightly limp under its influence.
   "I... I love him."
   Bruce's eyes went a bit wider with surprise, but he quickly relaxed.  She'd never said that she loved him before, and hearing her say it had a calming effect on him.  Bruce wanted to say that he loved her as well, but his immense pride would never allow for it.
   Clark, seeing Bruce's awkward predicament, tried to change the subject.  "So who were those guys?  Luthor's men?"
   Suddenly remembering that he had a human weapon of mass destruction in his home, Bruce flipped back into aggressor mode.  "Why do you care?! You took the impact of a car; I doubt bullets can harm you!"
   Clark leaned back, his face going grim. He kept his tone calm.  "No, they don't."
   Bruce started yelling. "So what are you even doing here?! What do you care about this city, or anyone in it?! None of this even concerns you! YOU'RE NOT HUMAN!!"
   Although Bruce's opinion held little meaning for Clark, his heart ached.  This was the second time that he had been rejected because of his true nature, despite his most noble efforts.
   Clark slowly stood up.  He walked to the sliding glass door that led to the penthouse's balcony, opened it, and stepped outside.  He slightly turned his head back, as if to say one last thing over his shoulder, but changed his mind.  He looked toward the night sky and floated upwards, away and out of sight.
   Lois looked like she might faint out of awe.
   Diana shot Bruce a look that would have made a lesser man shrink in his seat. "Why are you attacking him?!  I'm not any more human than he is!"
   "You didn't make solid steel bend around your fist like cardboard," Bruce replied.
   Diana stood up, looking down at Bruce with disdain.
   "I could have."
   She walked to the balcony, stopped when she got outside, and turned back towards Bruce.  She, like Clark, lifted off the ground, but stopped in mid-air, hovering just outside the door frame.  Her shimmering lasso hung from her belt, and her silver bracelets shone with the moonlight. With both of her booted feet tipped toward to the ground, she resembled a graceful dancer in flight.  Her eyes, however, burned with the fire of a warrior.  She glared at Bruce for a few seconds longer, as though to send a final silent reproach.  And with that, she flew away.

Kal-El of Krypton

.

One Year Ago

   "Son, there's something we need to tell you."

   Clark was somewhat confused.  There were no secrets in the Kent household, but Clark's father's tone seemed to hint at something... hidden.  Something important.
   Jonathan and Martha Kent led their adopted son to the storm cellar.  Shoved far in the back of the room was a large wooden box with a padlock on it.  On the odd occasion that Clark ended up in the cellar, he had always been told not to touch the box.  Out of either childish naivete or genuine trust, Clark obeyed his parents.
   Today, however, the box was opened.  Jonathan had long ago "lost the key," and had to break the lock with a crowbar.  Clark tried to help.
   "Dad... you don't need to do that; I can just break it off."
   "No, son," Jonathan replied grimly. "I'll do it."
   As he twisted the metal, Jonathan seemed to struggle with not only the lock itself, but something deeper.  Like he was about to throw his own son into a fire.
   The lock snapped open and fell to the ground with the thunk of heavy metal on wood.  Jonathan lifted the lid of the box and stood back.
   "Son, we told you that we found you abandoned in a cornfield all those years ago... Well, we didn't tell you that this is what we found you in."
   Lying in the box was a large, pointed, tubular chunk of metal.  It had two fins on either side, and looked somewhat like an airplane with no wings.  Clark, as any child of the modern era would, recognized it as a spaceship.
   He thought it was a joke.  In the span of a second, he thought of all the possible special occasions that might coincide with today's date.  He came up with nothing.  He thought of every joke his parents had made in the past few days, and whether or not that might have something to do with it.  He came up with nothing.
   His mind swirled.
   Could this be true?  Could I have been found inside a spaceship?  Where would I have come from?  I don't know anything about my real family, so I have no idea what country I'm from.  I look American, though, so I don't think that I came from Russia or anything like that.  Was I some creepy government experiment?  Am I an alien or something?  Ha! Right...
   Martha reached inside the box, next to the ship, and pulled out a small object.  It looked like a diamond-shaped golden jewelry box, with deep blue markings engraved in an interweaving pattern along its top surface.  Martha spoke soothingly to her her son.  "The ship closed shut a few days after we brought it down here, but... this was inside."
   She handed Clark the golden box.  As Clark took hold of it, several of the lines and swirls in the box's design started to glow bright white.  Together, they formed a shape: the outline of a diamond, like the shape of the box, but with a curved symbol inside the center that vaguely resembled an "S."
   Clark looked up—he wanted to give his parents a "what in the world is this thing" look—but he was suddenly not in Smallville anymore.
   He was standing in a large room with glass window-walls that overlooked a sea of water.  The sun was setting outside, but instead of its usual yellow-red sunset glow, it was a darker, blood-red hue.  To his right, he saw the spaceship.  It looked newer and cleaner, as if it had never been flown before.  It was mounted on an angular platform, and aimed towards a window that looked like it might be retractable.
   Clark quickly realized that, wherever he was, he was standing in the room where the ship had first taken off.
   "Hello, son," a male voice said.
   Clark almost jumped, which was unusual for someone as normally calm as he was.  Behind him, two figures stood: a man and a woman.  The man was tall, with closely-cut black hair and a square jaw.  The woman was much shorter, with long, flowing black hair and eyes that were a deep blue—like Clark's.  She had a look of genuine kindness upon her face, and a hint of love in her eyes.
   Both figures wore long red robes over full-body black bodysuits, which looked to be made out of a strange material that Clark had never seen before.  It made the couple resemble some type of high-class citizens from a science fiction future.
   The male figure continued. "My name is Jor-El.  You won't remember me, but I am your father."
   "And I am your mother," the woman said.  "My name is Lara.  By the time you are old enough to have opened this message, you will have been given a name by the people of Earth.  But your true name is Kal-El."
   Clark felt the shock start to settle in.  He almost dropped the box.
   Jor-El spoke again. "We're recording this message in the event that we can't be there with you.  What you see around you is a visual image of our home, on the planet Krypton."
   ...What?...
   "I've uncovered evidence that the Krypton's core is undergoing an explosive chemical reaction that will ultimately destroy the planet, and every living soul on Krypton with it.  In the event that my findings are correct, I've constructed this ship"—Jor-El gestured to the silver vessel—"to bring you safely to Earth.  We would be there with you, son, but there's only room for one.  We chose to send you to the planet Earth, for a number of reasons."
   Lara began speaking.  "Within a few years of being exposed to Earth's more powerful yellow sun, your Kryptonian body will begin to absorb solar energy, and manifest that energy in a multitude of ways.  We don't know everything that will happen to you, but we do know that you'll be far more powerful than any of the other humans on Earth.  Despite this, you must not use your abilities in anger."
   A smile spread across Lara's face.  "If you're anything like your father, you can be a great leader.  Use your power to inspire others.  Make Earth a better place, as Jor-El has done for Krypton."
   Jor-El's face became grim at Lara's words.
   "Kal-El, every world faces a crisis.  Most of them face many.  If you're listening to this, then it means Krypton has faced its crisis and lost.  Please, succeed where I have failed.  Save your world."
   Lara spoke again.  "Always remember who you are, and where you come from. We will not leave you, even in the face of our death.  We love you, Kal-El.  Always."
   The recording ended, and Clark was once again in the storm cellar.
   Clark looked at Jonathan and Martha.  They didn't seem to have any idea of what Clark had just seen.
   "Why... why didn't you tell me?..."
   But Clark knew the answer, even as he asked the question.  Before he could get a reply, he ran.
   He ran out of the cellar and across the cornfield, as fast as his legs would allow.  Past the farm.  Past the city limits.  Into the open fields of green.  If he could only push himself hard enough, he could forget what he'd just seen.  That he wasn't from Earth.  That he was different.  That he wasn't human.
But as Clark moved through the fields, he realized that he wasn't even running anymore: he was floating.  His feet were touching the ground, but that wasn't what was pushing him: he was pushing him.  As if his own force of will was somehow causing his body to move forward through the air.
Curious at this, he pulled his legs up off the ground—but his body didn't fall.  He was simply hovering in the air.  He put his feet back on the ground, closed his eyes, and focused his mind.  "Up," he thought.
   Clark left the ground once again, as if some divine hand were lifting him toward the sky.
He opened his eyes to see that he was a half-mile above ground, looking back towards Smallville.  Suddenly, he gained a clarity of mind.  He willed himself towards home, and felt himself move ever closer to the Kent farm.  He touched back to the ground next to his Earthly parents, who were in awe at his apparent power.
   Clark still wasn't entirely sure what to think.
   "Mom? Dad? What does this mean?"
   Jonathan's voice, as always, was firm and strong. "Clark, it only means as much as you want it to. I don't care where you're from; you're our son, and we love you.  Don't you ever forget that."
   Clark smiled.

Revealings

   When their meeting came to an end, Lois, Diana, and Clark left Bruce's tower and headed home.
   Bruce slumped down in one of the massive leather chairs in the living room, still deep in thought.  After having to talk to three other people for well over two hours, he was glad to finally have time to himself.  He thrived in the silence.  In the absence of distraction, he retreated into the recesses of his own mind—the contents of which were known only to him.
   *TINK*
   A sound, somewhere between a plink and a crackle, came from the window-wall of the living room.  Bruce's gaze quickly shot to the window, his eyes scanning for the cause.  A fist-sized shatter-circle sat in the middle of the window, with a bullet lodged in its center.
   Bruce's eyes went wide, and he ran for the elevator.
   "ALFRED! CALL THE POLICE!"

   Clark, Diana, and Lois had just left the tower and were in the middle of walking across the street when they were suddenly lit up by headlights.  Although it wasn't exactly unusual to see headlights on the Metropolis streets at night, something seemed particularly odd about this situation.  The streets were silent and clear; the students were alone with the car, which had stopped in the middle of the street, staring down the three teens.
   The car's driver and passenger doors opened, and a man stepped out on either side.  From behind the car's headlights, the men could barely be seen in the darkness.
   Diana slowly reached into her purse and pulled out two long silver bracelets.
   The men, without speaking, each lifted a gun and began firing. 
   *BLAM* *BLAM* *BLAM* *BLAM*

   Bruce had, fortunately, invested in a more advanced elevator that had the option of moving far faster than normal elevators would dare travel.  He made it to the ground floor and ran out the front door just in time to see the first bullets being fired.
   *TINK* *TINK* *TINK* *TINK*
   Diana had taken a long, quick step in front of her peers, blocking them from the bullets' path.  As each bullet came close, she blocked it with one of her wrists—now protected by her bracelets.
The gunmen stopped for a moment, not sure exactly what to think.  They looked at each other, then turned back to the teens and resumed firing, this time faster.
   *BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM*
   Diana's arms moved firmly and swiftly, deftly blocking each and every bullet.
   *TINK-TINK-TINK-TINK-TINK-TINK-TINK-TINK-TINK*
   "AUGH!"
   One of the bullets had ricocheted and hit one of the men in the arm.
   "Come on!" he said, jumping back into the car's passenger seat.  The other man followed, and the engine revved.
   The car's tires squealed as the vehicle zoomed towards the teens.
   Diana grabbed Lois firmly by the shoulder, and turned to do the same to Clark. 
   I have no idea if this'll work, she thought. I've never carried anyone else before.
   But Clark was not where he had been standing before.

   Clark moved forward swiftly, as though his toes barely skimmed the ground. His fist was raised in the air.  He brought it down onto the car's bumper, buckling the entire front end.  The car halted completely, its back end lifting up into the air before slamming back down to the ground.
Clark leaned back from the wrecked vehicle and stood up straight, looking into the car's cabin. Both men were unconscious.
   Diana, Lois, and Bruce looked back and forth between Clark and the totaled car, no one knowing exactly what was going on or what to think.  Clark's mind, however, was clear. 
   "Let's get back inside!" he yelled. 
   He ran alongside the girls as they made it back inside the building.
Giving Clark a wary eye, Bruce held the tower's front door open for everyone to run back inside the tower.

*  *  *

   "Sir?"
   "Yes, John?" Lionel answered.
   "Wayne's tower has bulletproof glass.  We didn't make the shot."
   Lionel smiled.
   "Hmm. Apparently, we've underestimated young Bruce's wisdom.  What about the others?"
   John was visibly uncomfortable.
   "Sir... we don't know.  The others left out of the building's main entrance, which wasn't in our field of view.  I sent two men in a car after them, but... well, we lost contact with them.  Some of our other men in the area heard at least a dozen gunshots and a loud crash, but when they finally got over there, they found the car completely trashed.  They said it was like it ran into an invisible tree or something, right in the middle of the street.  Both of the men were unconscious inside the car."
   Lionel paused for a moment.  "Are they still in the car?"
   "Yes, sir. Whatever hit the car hit it hard.  The doors won't open, and they're stuck inside."
   Lionel looked John in the eyes. "Kill them both, before the police arrive.  We can't afford to let them be questioned."
   "...Yes, sir."

Meetings

   As Diana rode the private elevator to Bruce's penthouse, she had a strange sense of comfort.  Even though she hadn't yet stepped through the doors into the penthouse's main room, the very walls of the elevator car seemed to ooze with a kind of opulence that reminded her of home.
   Clark, on the other hand, was about as uncomfortable as anyone could be.  He had never met anyone with their own elevator before, and he had no idea what to expect.  He kept fiddling with his shirt collar, and couldn't get it to stay straight—probably because he kept fiddling with it.
   Diana saw his discomfort and smiled.
   "Here," she said as she turned towards him, fixing his collar.
   "Just relax.  I'm sure he's nothing all that—"
   The doors opened, and Diana froze.  Before her stood the most handsome-looking young man she had ever seen.  Not that Clark didn't rank high up there, too, of course, but there was something about the way that Bruce carried himself.  Without even saying a word, he conveyed a sense of confidence and intelligence that few other people in the world could dare to match.
   After what had seemed like minutes, but was only a second or two, Bruce welcomed them.
   "Come on in."
   Clark and Diana stepped into the penthouse, and Bruce extended his hand toward Diana in a friendly business-like fashion.  She shook his hand gently, being sure to remind herself that Bruce was Lois's boyfriend and that she should keep her attention off of him. 
   "You must be Diana," Bruce said. 
   "Yes," Diana replied with a slightly sheepish smile.
   "And... Clark, right?" Bruce asked as he turned to shake Clark's hand.
   Clark nodded. "It's nice to meet you."
   Bruce's eyes lingered on each of them for an extra fraction-of-a-second too long—as if he was analyzing his new guests.  Clark took immediate notice of it, and didn't like it.
   Diana seemed to notice something along those lines, too: that Bruce wasn't saying what he was thinking, and that a kind of darkness lurked behind his gaze.
   At this point, Clark, Diana, and Bruce were all looking at each other with a slight tinge of suspicion.  Lois, who had arrived much earlier, walked in from the next room. 
   "Hey! You guys made it!"
   Both Clark and Diana were slightly stunned to see Lois so happy.  Either she was very grateful that Clark and Diana had agreed to meet with her and Bruce tonight, or Bruce's presence had an incredibly soothing effect on her.  Diana figured that it was the latter.
   A few minutes later, the four teens sat around the coffee table in the middle of the living room. 
   "So what exactly are we here to discuss?" Diana asked.
   "We need to plan out how we're going to stop LuthorCorp," Lois replied.
   "Well, wait a minute," Clark said.  "I'm all for helping out and doing the right thing, but what exactly are we supposed to do that the Daily Planet or some other newspaper can't?  I mean, we're a high school paper."
   Bruce looked Clark dead in the eyes, and spoke without blinking.
   "Luthorcorp owns all of the other major newspapers in Metropolis, whether they know it or not.  The Planet can't print anything against Luthorcorp because Lionel Luthor's got people all over the Planet that will warn him if there's even a hint of an anti-Luthorcorp story."
   Clark wasn't convinced.
   "So? That can't stop freedom of the press."
   Bruce spoke a bit firmer this time.
   "The Planet's barely making it along.  If Luthor sues them, they'll probably break under the legal fees.  Your 'high school paper' is the only thing in this city that's both reputable enough to make a difference and not controlled by Luthor."
   The elevator door behind them dinged.  Alfred stepped into the room, carrying a bag of groceries in one hand and two pizza boxes in the other. 
   "Good evening, sir," Alfred called over to Bruce. "I have some pizza for you and your guests, whenever you're—"
   "Not now, Alfred!" Bruce shouted back.
   Clark and Diana looked at each other with slight alarm at Bruce's temper, then looked at Lois.  Lois shrugged at them, and they figured that Bruce normally didn't act this way.  Apparently this situation was far more dire than any of them yet knew.
   As the night went on, Bruce explained to the others how he had discovered earlier that afternoon—through various technically illegal means—that LuthorCorp wasn't merely a ruthless business corporation, but an underground empire.  They would use any means, no matter how underhanded, to get what they wanted.
   "So how does that affect you, exactly?" Clark asked.
   The girls quizzically looked at Clark for a moment, then quickly understood: Clark had picked up on the fact that Bruce had far more of a personal interest in the situation than general concern for the city.
   "It's his company that might be on the line, Smallville," Lois said.
   Bruce seemed to momentarily take note of the fact that Lois had just used a nickname on Clark, which Lois suddenly regretted.  He brushed it aside, however, and took a moment to collect his thoughts.  He kept his gaze focused on the table in front of him, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone at the present moment.
   Slowly, he spoke. "LuthorCorp caused an economic depression in Gotham City twelve years ago.  No one could tie it to them, of course, but they were the cause.  They were trying to make the Gotham-centered businesses grow weak, including my parents' company."
   Bruce paused for a moment.  Lois saw that he was having to force the words out, and put her hand lovingly on his back.
   "The people of Gotham were the ones that were hit hardest," Bruce said.  "A lot of them lost their homes and were forced onto the streets, and the ones who were already on the streets somehow lost even more.  They became... desperate. Violent."
   Bruce stopped again, and the rest of the group mentally readied themselves for whatever he was about to say.
   "At the height of the depression, one of those people gunned down my parents in an alleyway."
   Clark and Diana were shocked.  They looked at Lois, who gave them a look that seemed to say "this is why."
   Bruce wasn't finished. "I don't know if they still would have died if Luthor hadn't tried to cripple Gotham like he did, but it certainly didn't help.  And my parents weren't the only people that died because of what happened."
   Bruce lifted his head slightly.
   "My parents were well-respected in Gotham, and they became martyrs.  Other powerful and influential citizens of Gotham rallied together to save the city.  They helped keep the city's economy afloat, and Luthor decided that it wasn't worth the effort to keep trying.  Still, though, Gotham's people have never recovered.  The city is a haven for criminals, and people still die there on the streets every day..."
   Bruce looked up at each of the others
   "LuthorCorp is poised to take over Metropolis within three weeks.  If they gain a foothold here, they'll have enough capital to start spreading their underground empire throughout the country.  Gotham's a crime-ridden hellhole, and it's only an example of what could happen to any other city that Luthor decides he wants. We have to stop them. Now."
   Clark looked Bruce in the eye as a warrior might look into the eyes of his brother-in-arms. 
   "Alright, Bruce.  We'll do it."
   Lois and Diana looked at Clark, somewhat surprised at how he had seemingly taken charge of the group decision.  Somehow, though, they didn't mind.  When Clark put his mind to it, he had a power of authority that was unmatched.  It somehow felt... right that he should be the one to speak for them.
   Here, now, they would spark the beginnings of a battle that would never end, against greater evils than any of them yet knew.

*  *  *

   Lionel Luthor stood in his spacious 102nd-story office, gazing out of its massive window.  A tall man with a full brown beard and long, royally-cut curled hair, he resembled an emperor of sorts—albeit one that wore a business suit.
   From behind him, a bald, thickly-built man dressed in all black walked in the office door.  "Mr. Luthor?"
   "Yes, John?" Lionel replied, keeping his back to his subordinate.
   "We've finished the damage report.  Apparently, young Mr. Wayne was able to hack further into our systems than we originally thought.  He accessed section 331."
   At this, Lionel turned.  "What did he find?"
   "Everything.  The records on the Gotham initiative, the Metropolis files, the kill reports—"
   "Please, John, don't use that term."
   Lionel may have been ruthless, but he liked to maintain the illusion that he was an honorable man, even for himself.
   "Yes, sir," John replied. "What do you want us to do about him?"
   Lionel paused for a moment, and sat down in his desk chair to think.
   "What is he doing now?"
   "According to our men, he's discussing his findings with several others.  Two teenage girls and a boy."
   Lionel squinted.
   "Teenagers? Odd... I would have thought that young Bruce would be tipping off the Daily Planet by now.  Not that it would matter, of course."
   John was getting restless.
   "Sir, just in case, I've already put men out there, ready to... take care of them."
Lionel smirked at his employee's purposeful avoidance of the word.  He'd used a terribly tired cliche to do it, of course, but it was still better than nothing.
   Lionel straightened his face.  "Move in."

Ecstatic Warfare

   I'm a reporter now. This is so cool!

   Diana was ecstatic about her new job as a reporter.  For the first time in her life, she felt that she was making a difference.  Clark had filled her in about the situation with Luthorcorp, and somehow that only made her feel happier.  Instead of merely being a student reporter, she was now fighting a war of words with the economic forces of evil.
   Diana always liked to think about her everyday life struggles as though they were battles in an endless war.  Luthorcorp's imperialistic actions stirred the warrior within her, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of elation.
   Clark gave her a confused look.  Seeing his confusion, Diana explained herself. 
   "Isn't it cool? We get to fight for something worthwhile!"
   Clark just stared at her for a few more seconds.
   "Uh... yeah, I guess so.  I have to get to class now; I'll see you later."

Staff Growth

   When Clark walked into the Daily Star office on Thursday morning, he found Lois staring blankly into her computer screen. If she noticed that Clark was there, she didn't make any effort to let him know.
   "Hey; something wrong?" Clark asked.
   Lois slowly looked up.
   "The Daily Planet is dead."
   Clark gave her a reassuring smile.
   "Hey, now why would you say something like that? The Planet's the biggest paper in Metropolis, and you're gonna be their star reporter someday."
   Lois gave him a half-smile. If there's one thing Clark is, it's sweet.
   "LuthorCorp is going to buy them out in less than a month," Lois said with resignation.
   Clark frowned slightly.
   "What do you mean?"
   Lois proceeded to explain to Clark what she had explained to Bruce the night before: that Lionel Luthor was secretly taking over the city.
   "It hadn't really hit me until this morning. At first, I just thought that it was cool that I'd found out all of this. Hell, I thought I was going to win some kind of journalistic prize for it."
   "Well, hey, you still might. Isn't what they're doing illegal? Being one company that owns the majority of a city?"
   "Yeah," Lois said, "But I did some more digging this morning, and... well... apparently everyone knows about this already. There's just nothing they can do. The only evidence is circumstantial, and there's really no way to concretely link Luthorcorp to all of the smaller companies that are covertly buying everything up. The Planet is the one major local media outlet that Luthorcorp doesn't have its hand in, but people have been saying lately that they're about to get bought out."
   Clark flipped into reporter mode.
   "Wait; how could they get this much money? I mean, Metropolis is one of the wealthiest cities in the country; there's no way they could get even a fraction of the capital they'd need to do what you're saying."
   Lois shrugged.
   "They fight dirty. They use blackmail, sabotage, or whatever else they need to do to get what they want. That's actually how I found out about all of this: in the past few years, about three dozen businesses in Metropolis have been bought out for practically nothing, always by either LuthorCorp or another company that's suspected of being connected to them."
   Clark paused for a moment, then quickly spoke up. "We can't just let them do this!"
   Lois almost chuckled at him. He'd said it as though he actually thought that it was up to him; as though the world rested on his shoulders.   I wish more people acted like him, she thought.


   Clark wasn't finished.
   "Isn't there anything we can do? Can't we find proof of this or something?  Publish it in the Star?"
   Lois sunk her face into her hands.
   "It's only you and me.  Between the two of us, we barely have enough time to keep up with school events, let alone do outside work."
   They heard a voice from the open doorway. "If you need more staff, I'd be happy to join up."
   Clark and Lois looked over to see Diana standing in the doorway.
   Lois's mind was filled with conflicted emotions.
   Oh, perfect. The Amazon has come to help.
   ...I don't have a choice, do I?
   Lois sighed to herself, then slowly stood up and walked over to Diana.
  "Welcome to the Daily Star."

Investigations

   Every time Lois rode the private elevator to Bruce's penthouse, she felt slightly unworthy.  It was as though she was ascending into a wood-paneled heaven, and Bruce was her angel.  A quiet, brooding angel, but an angel nonetheless.
   The sliding doors opened, and Lois stepped out into the room.
   Bruce's penthouse took up the entire top floor of Wayne Enterprises' Metropolis branch, and was furnished to a near-opulent degree.  Bruce had no interest in such material grandeur, but the penthouse was made to resemble Bruce's childhood home, Wayne Manor.
My boyfriend owns a manor. Lois often reminded herself of this fact, which greatly added to her already-impressive level of confidence.
   "Good evening, Miss Lane."  Lois turned to her left to see Alfred standing in wait for her.  "Hello, Alfred," Lois kindly said.  Lois was not normally one to fully pronounce the word "hello"—she much preferred to rely on a casual "hey"—but she couldn't help but be somewhat more formal and respectful in Alfred's presence.  Alfred, a man in his late sixties, had been the Waynes' butler for several decades.  After Bruce's parents were killed, Alfred became Bruce's legal guardian.  He was literally the only family that Bruce had left, and he was completely unwavering in his loyalty.  On top of that, he had a British accent, which Lois found humorously stereotypical.
   "Master Bruce is in his study, I believe," Alfred said.  "Thank you," Lois said with a smile.
   Bruce's study was dimly lit, and lined with books along every wall. In the center of the room Two large leather chairs sat facing one another.   It was completely dark except for Bruce's laptop computer, which shone a pale white light upon his face.
   Lois stood in the doorway, staring at Bruce in amusement.  He seemed completely focused on his computer, oblivious to his surroundings.  It was in moments such as these that Lois thought to herself, "Will I ever be able to get inside his head? Can I ever really know what he's thinking?"
   Bruce looked up and gave Lois a half-smile. "Hey."
   Lois was surprised. Did he know I was here all along? "Hey, you."
   Lois walked over to Bruce and sat down in the chair opposite him. "So why did you want to know about the Luthors, exactly?"
   "I think Lex may be trying to bring create some sort of corporate alliance against me."
   Lois was intrigued. "Really... How do you figure that?"
   Bruce's face was grim. "He's been spreading rumors about me to his friends."
   Lois stared at Bruce for a few seconds, completely blank-faced. Slowly, she began to sink her face into her hands.
   Without looking up, her voice muffled through her hands, she asked, "you think that he's creating a corporate alliance because he spread a few rumors? God, Bruce, this is high school. People do that all the time. If I had to count the number of times Cat Grant said something about me, I'd—"
   "This is different, Lois. Lex may be arrogant, but he's not petty. I didn't notice it before, but every time he's tried to make a joke of me, it's been in front of the other students at Excelsior who have monetary connections."
   "Isn't that basically everyone at your school?"
   "No. Well, yes, but not to this degree. The ones he's been spending his time around are the ones that will likely inherit massive amounts of capital or company power. Ollie and I were talking yesterday, and—"
   "Ollie? Bruce, Ollie blames corporations when he stub his toe."
   "Wait... you know Oliver?"
   "Of course I know Oliver, Bruce. I've done two interviews with him for the Star. You know he actually plans to reorganize Queen Industries into a non-profit organization?"
   "So I've heard... why exactly were you interviewing him for the Star?"
   "Well, he may or may not have promised to donate a rather sizable amount of money to the Star."
   "He told you that? Was that in the same sentence where he asked you to call him 'Ollie?'"
   Sarcasm lit up Lois's face.
   "Bruce! Might you be jealous?"
   Bruce was not amused.
   "He doesn't even know we're dating, Lois."
   "Well, now you can tell him."
   Bruce paused to consider this, and grinned. "Yes... I think I will."
   Lois returned to the main conversation.
   "Okay, so, all high school drama conspiracy theories aside, the Luthors are bad news. They're ruthless, but have a decent enough PR department to keep the general public mostly oblivious. What's really bad, though, is what I've heard about what they've been doing in Metropolis. Apparently, they're not just into technology anymore. They've been systematically buying up every local business in the city. Hardly anyone realizes it, but about thirty percent of the city's economy belongs to LuthorCorp. As if that weren't enough, they also own about forty percent of the buildings in Metropolis"
   Bruce's eyes went slightly wide. "They own forty percent of the city?"
   "Yeah. And from what I hear, they're only a few moves from getting a lot more. In less than three months, they'll own Metropolis."

Hippolyta

   About an hour after they'd first gotten there, Clark and Diana were still out talking on the bleachers.  School was out for the day, and the campus was mostly clear.  The sun was lowering in the sky, just touching the tops of the buildings that surrounded Metropolis High.
   Diana looked at her watch. "I should be getting home," she said with a sigh.
   "Yeah, I should to–" Clark had suddenly stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes focusing sharply on the field in front of him.  Still looking forward, he began his sentence again. "I should be going, too."  Standing up—and still not even giving Diana the courtesy of eye contact—he calmly gave out a "see you later, Diana," and walked away, towards the other side of the bleachers.  Diana, confused at Clark's apparent captivation, looked out at the field where Clark had been staring. It was empty.
   Diana was too confused to be insulted.  In just the short hour that they'd talked, she'd gotten to know Clark well enough to know that he wouldn't act so rudely unless he had a reason. Either that or he was an extremely quirky individual.  Diana sighed to herself. Nobody's perfect, I guess.
   Diana walked home in a mixed mood.  On one hand, she felt inspired in the fact that she had found two new friends whose mere existence seemed to prove that the world was not quite so corrupt as she had previously thought.  On the other hand, she was still not quite ready to flip her entire worldview based on the events of a single day, and Clark's awkward departure was perplexing.
   When Diana opened the door to her apartment, her mother, Helen, was waiting for her.  With a loving smile, Helen embraced her daughter.
   "You look a bit happier today, Diana," Helen said gently.  Her voice was soft, yet somehow regal.
   "I am happier, mother."  Diana's speech shifted somewhat in Helen's presence, as though she were a different person in a different time.
   "And why is this?" Helen asked.
   Diana sat down on the living room couch, and began to tell the story of her philosophy class, and how she had met two rather remarkable individuals.
   "Mother, after today... I think that this world might not be so beyond saving after all," she said with a hopeful smile.
   Helen's face was grim.  "Diana.. be careful.  You have been gifted with the sight of truth; please do not ignore it because of any feelings of friendship you may share with these people."
Diana was surprised at her mother's warning.  "But mother! How can I fulfill my duty to the people of this land if I simply ignore them?"
   Helen spoke firmly. "Diana, this world is seductive. On our home, we lived with our sisters in complete peace and safety.  Now that you and I have come to this land, we must take care not to fall into the traps of man."
   Diana was unconvinced. "Lois and Clark are not trying to 'trap' me."
   Helen smiled slightly. "No, I don't expect that they are. I am truly happy for you, daughter, that you have found two such people.  I only worry that you might become too enamored with the common culture here, and lose sight of your true calling."
   Diana returned a smile.
   "I won't, mother. I know my duty."

After Class

   Clark, Diana, and Lois met in the hall outside the classroom.
   "So, wow, that was really great what you guys said back there."
   Diana's words brought a small smile to Clark and Lois's faces.
   "Thanks," Clark said.
   "You're weren't so bad yourself, Miss Amazon," Lois said with a jovial tone.
   For the second time in only a few minutes, Diana nearly jumped. How did she?!...
   Thinking quickly, Diana realized that she'd taken off her denim jacket in the classroom, and forgotten to put it back on.  She had the body of either a supermodel or an Olympic-level athlete, and the tank top she was currently wearing didn't do much to hide that.
   "Thanks," she said sheepishly as she slipped her jacket back on.
   Noticing Diana's embarrassment, Clark quickly changed the subject by introducing himself. "Hi, I'm Clark. The mocking one is named Lois."
   Lois casually waved two fingers in a mock-wave.
   Sudden recognition flowed into Diana's mind. "You wouldn't be Lois Lane, would you?"
   "One in the same," Lois replied.
   Diana's face lit up with excitement. "Oh! I've read your work for the Daily Star! It's really wonderful."
   Lois raised her right eyebrow at Diana's usage of the word "wonderful" in casual conversation.
   "Yeah? Well thanks, Miss..."
   "Oh! I'm sorry. My name's Diana. Diana Prince."
   "Diana Prince... that sounds famil—" Lois's cellphone rang.
   "Hang on for a second." Lois put her phone to her ear. "Hey you; what's up?...  Lex Luthor?  What do you want to know about him?...  Okay, yeah. I can do that.  Okay, I'll see you tonight.  Bye."
Lois hung up the phone and turned back to Diana and Clark.  "Alright, I gotta run. I'll see you guys later."
   She walked off without another word.
   Diana turned back to Clark. "Is she always..."
   Clark knew her words before she spoke them. "Abrupt, high-strung, and jeering?"
   Diana almost laughed. "Yeah."
   "Well, I've only known her since Monday, but yeah, that's how she seems.  She's not that bad, though.  She's actually a lot nicer than even she thinks she is."
   "Really?  You can know that after only knowing her for three days?"
   "Kind of."
   "Can you see through everyone so easily?" Diana asked jokingly.
Clark seemed oddly disturbed by the question. "Um, well... not exactly.  I mean, sometimes.  It's just... uh... farmboy luck, I guess."
   Diana was intrigued. "You're from a farm?"
   Clark seemed embarrassed.  "Yeah... I am.  From Kansas.  This is my first week in Metropolis, actually."
   "Really?  It's mine, too."
   "Yeah? Where are you from?"
   "I moved here from Coast City."
   Diana and Clark walked outside, near the football field, and sat down on the bleachers to keep talking.  The air was surprisingly fresh for being in the middle of a major city, and the way the sun shone down on the green field brought a certain nostalgia of home to both students.
   "Coast City, huh? That must be pretty different."
   "Yeah, it is.  What about Kansas? What's it like there?"
   "To be honest, it's mostly just elderly people who don't want to leave their hometown, and teenagers who can't wait to grow up and get away."
   Diana smiled a little, and looked out over the field with a tinge of distant sadness. "I guess I'd fit in there.  With the elderly, I mean."
   Clark was confused.  "What do you mean?"
   Diana half-sighed before replying. "I have a name that went out of style a long time ago. The only other Dianas are grandmothers now."
   Clark frowned a little, and just stared at her for a few seconds before saying anything.
   "Diana, you have a beautiful name."
   Diana looked back at him with a slight sense of wonderment.  One of the reasons that she spent so much thought on the concept of truth was that she could sense it.  By merely looking at Clark, she could have instantly known if he had been even partially untruthful in his statement.  But he hadn't.  He hadn't said it with even a hint of sarcasm or flirtatiousness.  He was simply being completely honest.  It reminded Diana of when he'd made his earlier speech in class; it was as if he spoke with unequivocal truth, and she couldn't help but believe him.
   She blushed.  "Thank... thank you," she said slowly.  "No one's ever told me that before."
   Clark flashed his trademark smile, and turned back to the field.
   Diana sat in silent thought.

   Maybe... maybe I was wrong...

Banner

Oh, hey, while I'm in the middle of making posts that don't have anything to do with the actual story (I'm working on the next chapter right now, I promise), did you guys notice the new banner I put up?

Here's a comparison:

Old:

New:

I have to say, I really love the new banner.  The old one was cool, don't get me wrong. It's a screencap of Metropolis from Superman Returns, which fits really well.  The bright almost-lens flare at the side is pretty cool, too.  It's very reminiscent of an opening title card from a CW or MTV drama, which fits the whole theme.
The new banner is a thousand times better, though.  It's a screencap of Metropolis as it's depicted in Smallville, which is basically the version of Metropolis that I'm using in this story.

The full screenshot, as seen above, is really pretty amazing with its waterline and its sheer verticality.  It's also a bright blue, which is something that I couldn't get in the old banner no matter how hard I tried (altering the hue of the picture only made it speckled and cruddy-looking).  It's really cool because it's literally like we can get a real look at the city I'm writing about; like you can grasp it.  I can only hope that I'll get to write an ACTUAL superhero story one day that ends up on TV or film.

Reader Request

Hey there, faithful readers. (all three of you)

I need a favor.  I'm looking for songs to play whilst writing these posts.  Specifically, I need ones that fit specific characters.  (Diana, Clark, and Bruce to be exact)

If the music fits in with the teenage angle (AKA anything you'd hear on a WB teen drama), that'd be great too.

(oh, and new chapter coming soon) :)

Excelsior

   The Excelsior Academy was the birthplace of kings.
More specifically, it was a private school where the wealthy and powerful sent their children to learn the ways of power and responsibility.  Whether through business or politics, graduates of Excelsior were expected to become rulers of men.
   However, the truth of the matter was that it was a high school, filled with all manner of social drama.  With the addition of Excelsior's imperialistic philosophy, however, social drama became social warfare.  Verbal jabs and false rumors were the weapons with which the students fought, seeking to better their own reputations.  No one was immune to the words of his peers.
   No one except Bruce Wayne.
   Bruce was an oddity in Excelsior.  While the other students spent their time focused on each other, Bruce only paid attention to what mattered.  He was a practical young man, rarely indulging in social activities that he was not required to.  Those who interacted with him normally found him to be a generally affable person, and he spoke rather eloquently.  The girls in particular were somewhat fond of him, as he was the very definition of "tall, dark, and handsome."  However, those few who managed to get under Bruce's skin often found themselves subject to his angrily piercing stare, which was almost physically painful to look at.  In those moments, Bruce seemed possessed by a kind of darkness that no one quite understood.
   At lunchtime, Bruce sat down at his usual table, eating his meal in silence.
   "Lex is after you this year."
   Bruce looked up to see Oliver Queen sit down at the table next to him.  Blonde-haired and reasonably handsome, Oliver was Bruce's only friend at Excelsior.  Bruce seemed unsurprised at Oliver's warning, and didn't even make eye contact as he responded.
   "How is that different than last year?" he asked.
   "Well, for one thing, he's making up all kinds of stories about you. I swear, it's like he's mutating into a woman or something."
   Bruce was normally unconcerned with rumors, but this time things seemed different.
   For Oliver to actually bring it up... it must be important.
   "What's he saying?"
   "Oh, he's saying that your parents were murdered in a dark alley somewhere, right in front of your eyes, and that the reason that you're so quiet is because you're mentally disturbed from seeing your parents' bloody carcasses, yada yada yada..."
   Bruce was silent.
   Oliver suddenly became worried.  "Wait, Bruce... that's... that's not true, is it?  Your parents, I mean?"
   Bruce paused for a moment, then nodded.
   Oliver was shocked.  He leaned back to take a deep breath, then rubbed his hand over his face in shame.
   "Bruce... I'm so sorry; I didn't know.  I knew your parents weren't here in Metropolis, but I... I thought maybe they were just back in Gotham, running the company or... or something like that.  I... I don't know what to say."
   "It was eight years ago, Oliver.  It's alright."
   Realization hit Oliver's face.  "Wait a second... so does that mean that you're the heir to your family's fortune?"
   "Yeah.  The money, the property, the company shares, all of it."
   "Bruce! You're going to become a multi-billionaire when you turn eighteen?!"
   "Yep.  February 19th."
   Oliver leaned back to think.
   "Huh.  That would explain why Lex wants to take you down, then."
   Bruce gave him a quizzical look.  "What do you mean?"
   "Well, Lex's father is the president of LuthorCorp.  LuthorCorp and Wayne Enterprises are competitors in the tech industry, right? So maybe he thinks he has something to prove against you."
   Bruce wasn't exactly convinced.  "He wants to start a high school feud to make his daddy proud? Not likely."
   But something tugged at the back of Bruce's mind, until finally it clicked.
   "Wait. How many of the seniors this year come from families with corporate power of some kind?"
   Oliver thought for a moment.  "I dunno. About half a dozen. You really should pay more attention to something other than books, y'know."
   Bruce didn't pause.  "And how many of those are in Lex's group of friends?"
   Oliver suddenly realized what Bruce was getting at. "All of them..." he said with surprise.  "Actually, from what I hear, Lex is being set up with his own sub-division of his father's company when he graduates. If he can make allies out of these kids, he might be able to get a lot of support against you when you both take control of your companies."

   Bruce rubbed his forehead in frustration.
   Oliver just sat in disbelief.  "I can't believe it. Everyone always told me that high school drama wouldn't matter in the long run. Now it apparently does."
   Bruce tried to relax himself.  "It probably won't matter.  Wayne Enterprises is too big for just a few kids to take on."
   Oliver was more concerned.  "I wouldn't count on that.  Haven't you heard about the Luthors?"
   "Of course. But what about them?"
"They're dirty.  They play the 'we're a clean business' angle, but everyone on the street around here knows that LuthorCorp has all sorts of illegal stuff going on.  What's worse is that there are rumors of LuthorCorp actually taking over the majority of businesses in Metropolis, and practically turning it into one big corporately-owned city."
   Bruce squinted one eye at Oliver.  "How do you know anything about 'the street?'"
   Oliver smiled proudly. "I like to keep in touch with the average citizen; the 'little guy.'"
   Bruce gave his friend a joking grin. "You actually don't like corporations, do you?"
   Ollie was brief and resolute in his answer. "Nope."
   Bruce kept the grin on his face. "And yet you technically own one."
   Oliver was casually defensive. "Hey, Queen Industries is non-profit. Or at least it will be once I actually get control over it."
   Oliver suddenly had a thought. "Man, look at us.  Two teenagers trying to figure out the socio-economic effects of whole corporations. What do regular guys our age talk about?"
   "Girls, I think."
   "Hmm.  Okay then.  What do you think about her?" Oliver pointed to a red-haired girl across the room.
   Bruce looked over at her, then simply said "I've seen better."
   "Oh, right, because you have that girlfriend of yours.  Tell me, why have I never met her? Could it be that she doesn't exist?"
   Bruce was slightly annoyed. "You haven't met her because she doesn't attend Excelsior."
   Bruce thought for a moment.
   "...Actually, she can probably help me with this problem."
   Bruce pulled out his cellphone, dialed a number, and spoke when he heard a familiar "hey you" on the other end.  "Hey, can you do a background check on Lex Luthor for me?... I need to know anything that might link him or his family's company to any illegal activities....  Thanks.  Do you want to meet me back at my place when you're done?... Great; thanks.  I'll see you then.  Bye."
   Oliver gave Bruce a weird look.
   "You're having your girlfriend do your dirty research for you?"
   "Shut up, Ollie."

What is Truth?

   "What is truth?"

   Diana sat in philosophy class, simultaneously bored and annoyed. She already had her own perspectives on the meaning and purpose of life; she believed that she did not need her head filled with the circular truths of common culture.
   Once again, her teacher asked the question.
   "What is truth?"
   The students still seemed confused. It was only the third day of school, and Mr. Tracy was already delving into topics that befuddled the average college student.  After a few moments of silence, a scrawny young boy raised his hand.
   "Yes, Mister Allen?" Mr. Tracy asked.
   The boy slowly spoke, stuttering occasionally. "Truth is...is... well... it's what's we know that's... y'know... true."
   The rest of the class giggled a bit at his feeble attempt at making a point.
   Mr. Tracy simply rolled his eyes and turned back to the rest of the class. "Anyone else?"
An older boy, about three seats ahead of Diana, raised his hand.
   Tracy enthusiastically responded: "Yes, Mister..."—he quickly looked at the class roster—"...Kent?"
"Yes, sir," Clark replied. He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, then spoke. "Truth is what's real. Truth is everything that's good. It's light; it's hope; it's justice. It's what we believe in when we don't have anything else."
   The rest of the class sat in their seats, slightly stunned. Although Clark had spoken somewhat abstractly, his voice carried a resounding authority. It was mesmerizing and inspiring. Diana almost jumped from her seat. Did he just say what I think he said?!
   Their teacher was not quite so profoundly affected. "But how can we know what truth is? After all, different people have different beliefs about what's true."
   Clark was ready with another reply. "That doesn't change the fact that truth has to exist, whether or not we can see it."
   The other students were surprised. No one had ever actually argued with Mr. Tracy before; most everyone just sat through his lectures and tried not to fall asleep.
   Tracy continued the verbal spar: "But how do you know that? How do you know that your perception doesn't create truth for itself?"
   Lois was also sitting in this class, and couldn't hold her reporter's passion back any longer. "So what are we supposed to do? Just lie down and decide that we can't know anything anyway?"
   Mr. Tracy was gentle and optimistic in his reply. "No, you can take comfort in the fact that you create truth for yourself.  You can change your world to mean whatever you want it to."
   Diana couldn't help but be disgusted with the genuine smile that spread across Tracy's face.  "He actually believes this crap?!?" she thought to herself.
   She finally spoke up. "So if someone decides that murder is a good thing, then that makes it okay?"
   Tracy seemed a bit taken aback at her accusation. "Well, no... I mean, obviously there have to be limits in place..."
   Lois jumped in. "You just said that absolute truth couldn't exist.  So who decides what those limits are?"
   Tracy began to stutter an answer: "Well, we—"
   The bell rang.
   As the students stood up and began to leave, Clark, Lois, and Diana looked at each other with a mutual grin of satisfaction.
   Clark was simply happy because he'd stood his ground and defended his beliefs.
   Diana was happy because she'd found, for the first time in her life, other people who believed as she did: that truth was paramount; that its singular ideal was of utmost importance.  Here she had found two people in the world who were not simple drones of society; who understood what it meant to actually fight for the ideals of Truth and Justice.  For the first time since she'd come to this country, she was not alone.
   Lois was just happy to shove the faculty's crap in their own faces.