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."