SuperHuman - Chapter 3
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Disclaimer: I do not own any franchises mentioned in this story. This is fan-based work of fiction.
Beta: Gerald_of_Revea
-Conner Luthor-
Archery.
The sport started as a method for hunting. Ancient humanity hunted with bows and arrows for food, stopping animals that were faster and could outrun them. When humanity realized it could be used to hunt each other, it was used in warfare.
Humanity evolved, along with warfare. Animals have been domesticated. Humanity found new things to hunt.
Today, people who learn archery do so for personal enjoyment, such as Lex Luthor.
Lex found it relaxing. All his goals are set to the side in the moment to focus on one singular goal. To make the arrow land in the center of the target.
Repeat these steps a good sixty times, and that’s how Lex spends his 7-8 am morning slot.
I took a steadying breath, and I felt my body go still.
I needed to breathe, but not nearly as much or as often as I needed to. Breathing is an instinctual action, but I could hold my breath for much longer than I thought possible.
I shifted my feet to be perpendicular to the target and drew the string back.
I couldn’t have been in a better environment to take my shot. No wind, dead silence, the target being perfectly still; if I missed the shot, it would all be because of my lack of skill. The floor in LuthorCorp was entirely barren, except for the target at the end of the room.
Another moment passed, and I let go.
The arrow flew through the air, a ‘thunk’ sound echoing throughout the room as it hit the target, though only barely.
“Again,” Lex said, his voice flat. “And engage your back muscles, Conner. You’re pulling with your forearm. It distorts your draw and destroys your accuracy. Let your back bear the weight.”
Following suit, I listened, drawing another arrow and shifting the power to just below my forearm. Taking another few moments to line up my shot, I let go; this time the arrow landed much closer to the center, a boom echoing throughout the room as it hit the 7-point circle.
“You’re holding onto the grip,” Lex frowned. “Let the force of the draw keep the bow against your palm. Your fingers are applying torque to the grip. The arrow’s path is shifted before it leaves the string.”
I listened, putting everything I had learned into one last shot. Power distributed to my upper back, both eyes open, body turned perpendicular to the target. I eased my fingers on the grip, letting the bow rest against my palm.
I let out a slow exhale and released.
The arrow shot through the air, a wooshing sound echoing through the air before it pierced the target.
It wasn’t a perfect shot, but it was close to it, hitting the nine-point circle.
“Good,” Lex nodded. “You did not break the string,” he said, taking the bow from me. “In time, you will do better.”
Lex grabbed an arrow from the quiver and followed up by taking a shot of his own, the arrow slamming dead in the center of the target. The same happened with the second arrow, neatly landing beside the first.
As Lex drew the third and final arrow, a thought occurred to me.
There’s a power that I haven’t tried to use yet.
When the arrow was let loose, I silently let out a breath, my eyes focused on the arrow coursing through the air.
At first, it looked like it would hit in the center once more, but then the arrow started to shift slightly off course before landing just beside my arrow in the nine-point circle.
The room went dead quiet.
Lex lowered his bow, his eyes locked onto his final arrow. He didn't speak, but his jaw tightened ever so slightly. I kept my expression neutral, doing my best not to let a smirk come onto my face.
“We are done here,” he said clippedly, putting the bow down on the stand. “We have much work to do.”
Who is the woman Clark Kent loved most in the world?
If you asked him, he wouldn’t be able to choose. Martha Kent and Lois Lane are the two women in his life he holds most dearly. Though both for different reasons.
Lex Luthor doesn’t love anyone. Not anymore. But Mercy Graves is a rare anomaly in his life. The one woman who can make him drop his guard, if only for a moment.
Lex doesn’t love her. But he loves having her around. She works as both his personal assistant and bodyguard.
And dresses for both roles.
Her attire was entirely black. The skirt suit, tights, and shoes, with one exception, being the pair of white gloves. To bring it all together, she wore a chauffeur’s hat, which no doubt drew many eyes towards her.
“Mercy,” I nodded, surprising the woman. “It’s good to see you.”
“Likewise,” she drawled, turning to Lex. “I assume you told him why he is here?”
“More training, I presume,” I mused, looking over the onset of gym equipment. I didn’t know LuthorCorp had an on-site gym, but I wasn’t going to complain about it.
“Mercy will be acting as your combat instructor,” and I immediately turned to glare at him.
“Should have seen this coming,” I breathed, but Lex surprised me by actually laughing.
“Oh, please, it’s nothing that I couldn’t handle,” he said, and I started to remember another influx of memories.
Lex knew making enemies was inevitable, and that it was only a matter of time before one of them made a move. He needed a bodyguard whose loyalty was absolute, leading him to take in Mercy Graves. She received training, and when her skills were refined, he learned to fight from her himself.
“And you think this is something I need?” I asked, which made him roll his eyes.
“Of course this is something you don’t need; you are part Kryptonian. And for a while, you will live a perfectly good life,” he said before his tone became darker.
“But then, someone will come along. Perhaps they are stronger, perhaps they have weakened you with Kryptonite. The point is, you won’t be able to fight back. And when that happens? You will die.”
His eyes met my own.
“Right now, your powers control you. Consider this another version of precision training. It would reflect poorly on me if you didn’t know how to defend yourself.”
“We won’t be doing hand-to-hand combat today,” Mercy placated. “This lesson is to just better understand your limits.”
Is there such a thing as being too strong?
The answer differed depending on who you asked. For Clark, the answer is yes; for Lex, the answer is a resounding no. For me?
Not when Darkseid exists.
‘And that’s only one of the threats out there,’ I corrected, my mind going to Trigon and the Anti-Monitor. There are enemies out there that could destroy Earth in an instant.
‘And here I am, whining like a child,’ I scowled, rubbing my forehead.
“Alright, I’ll do it,” I said, and Lex smiled minutely, gesturing to a nearby sandbag.
“Then let’s see what you can do.”
The invasion of Mount Justice was a turning point for the League. With their base of operations known to the world, they realized that if they didn’t adapt, the first invasion wouldn’t be the last.
So they adapted.
The Hall of Justice. To the world, it’s the League’s main embassy and headquarters. But that was only partially true.
In truth, it’s a front. Using Zeta-Beam teleporters, members of the League are transported to their real command center.
Any ground-based facility ran the risk of infiltration. Surrounded by civilians, tracked down by villains, the Justice League needed to create a base that made it nigh-impossible for someone to infiltrate.
They succeeded. By building a headquarters in space.
The Watchtower.
Costing billions of dollars to develop and equipped with Martian cloaking technology, to Earth telescopes, radars, and satellites, the Watchtower would look completely invisible.
If any enemy attempted an infiltration, it would be through the Zeta-Tubes. Which is why measures were placed to prevent a breach.
Biometric scans, command codes, and voice-recognition locks are needed on every single beam to ensure no unwanted visitor ever sets foot on the station. Less than thirty people have ever set foot in the location, almost all of them heroes.
The Justice League met more often than most assumed. Whether those topics were about inducting new members, discussing specific threats, or optimizing risk reduction.
However, not every member attended every meeting. Most couldn’t. Secret identities had to be upheld. Sometimes their cities were in danger and needed their heroes on the front lines.
Those who made it today include Wonder Woman, Hawkgirl, both Green Lanterns, Martian Manhunter, Green Arrow, Black Canary, Batman, Aquaman, and Shazam.
Batman started the meeting, turning the television on to show the subject of today’s meeting.
Black hair, blue-eyed and broad-shouldered. The photo was clearly taken from camera footage, as signaled by the date and timestamp on the bottom right corner. The boy wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary, simply walking down the street with his head down.
“As of three days ago, no record of this man existed.”
“Man?” John Stewart snorted, amusement in his voice. “The kid looks barely older than sixteen, and you’re calling him a man?”
Green Arrow snorted, raising an arrow at the Green Lantern before he looked closer at the person on the screen. As he did so, he started to squint, rubbing the tail end of his goatee. “Wait a minute, is it just me or does the kid look a bit like Supes?”
“The Unknown first appeared in Washington, D.C.; camera footage shows the subject escaping Cadmus Labs before leaving the city entirely,” Batman continued, making Wonder Woman frown.
“He left quieter than expected,” she said, looking again at the footage. Despite the man punching through the doors, covering the area in glass, nothing had been reported. Usually in these cases, the roof would be gone, walls would be broken, and bodies left in the wake. She would have remembered hearing whether or not something happened at the place. She had been keeping an eye on the facility for a while now, but never had a reason to check up on it. Until now, that is.
“So who is this guy?” John asked, “An intern that got super-strength?” But once again, Batman shook his head.
“After leaving Washington, the Unknown took the transit line to Metropolis, arriving a few short hours later. He visited Centennial Park, Metropolis Cemetery, and other locations, all of which are on the memo.” Batman said, the screen changing once more.
This time, the boy stood in front of the list of the dead. A memorial, not to Superman, but to those who were killed in the battle.
The room grew solemn, some looking over at the empty chair at the end of the room, silently mourning their old friend.
“He stood there for hours,” Batman continued. “He returned yesterday morning, Stayed, until he showed up.” The screen shifted again; now it was raining, and a bald man in a tailored suit was beside him.
“Lex Luthor,” Hal murmured. “Nothing but trouble with that guy. So what happened after?”
“Both the Unknown and Luthor left the cemetery together. After a detour, both arrived at LuthorCorp. The Unknown left the building eight hours later.”
“So who is this kid? And what was he doing at Cadmus Labs?”
“Cadmus,” Shazam muttered. “Like the hero,” he muttered, getting everyone’s attention. “Thousands of years ago, Cadmus slew a dragon and planted its teeth into the soil. The teeth turned into warriors, the Sown Men.”
“You think it means something?” John asked, making Shazam nod hesitantly. “So what, you think the kid was grown? Like a clone?”
“The kid looks a bit too young to be a clone,” Hawkgirl jibed, studying the monitor. “The last time someone tried cloning, we had to deal with the Ultimen.”
“We never did find out who made those guys,” said Black Canary, looking to the rest of the team. “We only figured out they were clones because of their rapid aging. If Shazam is right, the same could happen to this boy.”
“So is the boy related to Superman or not? The way I see it, that’s just a normal teenager. Give him ten years, then maybe I'd buy it. But right now? I don’t see it.”
“Not unless he broke out prematurely,” John countered, which made Hawkgirl reconsider.
“If he is a clone, how was Cadmus able to harvest genetic material?” Martian Manhunter asked, his brow furrowed. “I was under the impression his grave was kept under 24-hour surveillance.”
“Superman’s body is missing.”
For a moment, there was silence. You could hear a pin drop before Shazam stood up from his chair, accidentally knocking it onto the floor.
“How?” he asked, a snap echoing through the room as he gripped the edge of the table, but he wasn’t the only one angry.
“Doesn’t matter how,” Hawkgirl shouted, slamming the tip of her mace against the table. “The question is how many heads roll until he’s returned?”
“So we raid Cadmus then, get everyone inside out, then burn the place to the ground. Who’s with me?”
Anger, disgust, and guilt weighed heavily in the hearts of each member as the room devolved into chaos. The calmness these meetings were known for was almost thrown out in an instant. Until a single call cut through the noise.
“Enough!”
Batman’s words were commanding, immediately bringing the room to silence as he glared at each of the League members. A few seconds passed before he continued.
“Martian Manhunter is correct; Superman’s remains have been under constant surveillance. Multiple security cameras have been placed around the area. There are sensors that will notify in the case of any tampering. Satellite imagery monitored the location. None of them mattered. The body was taken outside of normal means. Which brings me back to the topic of discussion.” Batman said, changing the screen back to the Unknown.
“It is possible that the man in this photo is Clark Kent.”
“Clark’s alive?” Shazam asked, hope in his voice before a scowl took its place. “No, he can’t be alive. We mourned him. We went to his funeral. We saw him being buried. People don’t come back from that.”
“The Lazarus Pit,” Green Arrow breathed, making Batman pause.
“Possible, but unlikely,” Batman said flatly. “The Pit is guarded fanatically. The owner wouldn’t trade a drop to Cadmus.”
“Unless he wanted to make a super-soldier of his own,” Green Arrow countered, making Batman frown.
“Hold on, what exactly is this Laser Pit?”
“The Lazarus Pit is a restorative spring that heals mortal wounds and reverses aging. It can also bring back the dead, at the cost of severe, temporary madness. But it is unrelated to this matter. Drop it.”
“Hold on, I hate to be the bearer of bad news here,” John said, crossing his arms and cutting in. “But we just jumped from a missing kid to missing body to Ra’s al Ghul de-aging and bringing back Superman in under five minutes. Nobody’s even talked to the kid yet. For all we know, he’s just some kid Cadmus cooked up.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” A new voice entered the room, surprising all those seated.
She wasn’t a member of the league; she didn’t even have any powers, but most knew her anyway. 
Lois Lane walked into the briefing room, standing beside Batman, a few leaguers raising an eyebrow. 
“Lois?” Wonder Woman asked, confusion in her voice, before she smiled warmly at her. “It’s good to see you, my friend.”
“You as well,” Lois smiled brittlely. She looked at Batman, silently asking for permission to lead the conversation, which made him nod.
“Last night, I spoke with him,” she said, grabbing everyone’s attention. “At first I thought I was hallucinating, seeing him again…But I’m certain it's him. It can’t be anyone else.”
“Look, I understand you’re grieving here, but this is a bit hard to believe,” John said. “Why are you so certain it’s him?”
“I wasn’t at first,” she admitted. “He tried to deny it, but that doesn’t explain what he knew.”
“Then what is it that convinced you?” Wonder Woman asked, but Lois was prepared.
“This,” Lois continued, tossing a napkin on the table. “Before Superman went to fight Doomsday, the two of us were having dinner at Biboo’s diner. I…didn’t know he was Superman at the time, but that day he revealed the truth to me. When he got the call about Doomsday, he left, leaving that note.”
“This is Clark’s handwriting?” Black Canary asked, making her nod. It was a rushed scribble, but the words were legible to everyone.
It simply said, ‘I love you.’
“When I saw him last night, he knew what he wrote on the napkin.”
“Then he’s alive,” Shazam breathed. “He’s alive!” The jubilation in his voice didn’t surprise anyone; what did surprise the leaguers was him wrapping Lois in a hug, the superhero laughing heartily.
Of the Justice League, no one took the death of Superman as hard as Billy Batson. The man was there the day he became a hero. Working alongside each other as he learned the ropes, the Man of Steel briefly becoming his mentor.
And he was too late to save him.
When Billy learnt of the battle, he rushed to Metropolis to help, only to arrive after it was done.
His death has haunted Shazam ever since.
“Shazam!” Batman scowled. “Not everything adds up yet. We need confirmation.”
“Are you kidding me? This just proves it!” Shazam said, with a wild grin, gently putting the flustered Lois down. “What are we waiting for? Where is he now?”
“You’re missing information,” Batman countered. “As of this morning, an identity was built for this unknown. Birth certificates, driver's license, blood work, and transcripts dating all the way back to elementary school.” 
“Well, of course he’d need a new identity,” Shazam said hesitantly. “He can’t just say he came back from the dead. And he’s like…younger too!”
“He wasn’t the one who created them,” Batman said, showing the new identification on the screen.
The excitement in the room came to a halt when people started reading. At first, the information looked perfectly normal. Attended high school, graduated early, scored in the ninety-ninth percentile on his SATs, all before his eighteenth birthday.
Everything looked fine, until they looked at the name on the ID.
Conner Luthor.
“What?” Shazam said, his previous cheer vanishing in an instant.
“This…this doesn’t make any sense,” Black Canary said, her eyes fixated on the screen, before shifting her attention back to Batman. “What’s your leading theory?”
“Theory?” John Stewart huffed. “Doesn’t matter what or who he is. We gotta get him away from Luthor as soon as possible.”
“It’s Clark,” Lois stated. “It has to be. No one can just guess that.”
“No one guesses details like that,” Batman intervened. “But there are other ways he could have obtained the information. Cadmus may have developed technology to access Superman’s neural pathway data. If Cadmus extracted his residual memories, they could imprint them into a test-tube subject during incubation.”
“So you’re saying Cadmus built a clone of Superman?”
“We don’t know anything yet,” Batman replied coldly. “Which is why we need to investigate. Both Cadmus and the unknown.”
Lois shook her head, stepping closer to the display. “I looked into his eyes. That was him.”
“Then we need confirmation it's him,” Batman reiterated. “First, we will contact him.”
“I’ll do it!” Shazam immediately volunteered. “Please, Batman, I have to!”
“No,” he denied. “This needs to be done privately. Covertly. Martian Manhunter?”
“It will be done,” Martian Manhunter said, bowing his head slightly. “I will make contact telepathically. I will learn for certain whether he is Clark or not.”
“Assumptions are dangerous,” Batman said clinically. “What we do know is that Superman’s body is missing and there’s a look-alike in contact with Lex Luthor. While Martian Manhunter speaks with ‘Conner’...”
“We will be raiding Cadmus,” Wonder Woman finished, Batman frowning.
“Investigate. Infiltrate. If necessary, exfiltrate and secure the site.”
Hawkgirl grinned.
“I like this plan.”
-Lex Luthor-
Metropolis. It was his home and empire. From where he stood, he couldn’t see the rot that lay below, not when the towers blocked the view of it.
These were the villains Superman left behind. The trash. Livewire, Parasite, Toyman…
Collectively, the three of them cost the city millions of dollars in property damage every time they threw a tantrum. Even without those villains, the trash remained. Hob’s Bay was proof of that, standing as the absolute worst of the city.
‘But even my view is ruined from the highest floor in the city,’ he thought idly, his eyes wandering to a certain globe.
The Daily Planet building did not have the most floors or even the most office space. But because of that annoying accessory, a globe with the label ‘Daily Planet’, it was considered the tallest building in Metropolis.
He didn’t hide his distaste for the ornament. He once attempted to buy the building himself. When that failed, he wondered how it could be destroyed. When Superman came along, those plans were quietly put to the side.
“We had a deal.”
Ah yes, her. 
Amanda Waller.
A woman easy to agree with. After all, they shared very similar beliefs.
The heroes hold too much power. Aliens that come to Earth need to be managed. Regulated.
It was a shame that in this case they were going to disagree, though he could understand her anger.
It was a simple trade. In return for Khundian technology, he would fund and help create a viable replacement for Superman.
“And I have upheld my end,” he said smoothly. “I fail to see the issue here.”
“You know damn well what the issue is,” Waller glared at him. “Project Kr. I want him back.”
It was amusing that she thought he would be intimidated by her.
“I fail to see how that is my issue,” he repeated, and she immediately turned to scowl at him. “The project was a success. He will do well under my tutelage.”
He wasn’t even lying. He didn’t do things by second measures. Conner was adequately intelligent and in time, he would be contributing far more to LuthorCorp than he originally thought possible.
"Project Kr was commissioned under classified federal authority. That boy isn't your personal vanity project. He is government property."
“Perhaps…you would like to tell him that yourself?” he asked, and not a moment later, the elevator chimed, Conner steadily walking out.
Dressed in a black shirt and dark blue jeans, he couldn’t help but think how normal look. It was no different the first time they met, but without a blue suit and red cape, he looked like a perfectly normal human.
“Amanda?” Conner asked, raising an eyebrow. “A pleasant surprise as always.”
He smiled, and Waller scowled at him. After all, he said the same thing when she entered the room.
“You,” she glared at Conner. “Caused millions of dollars in government property, permanently injured Cadmus personnel, and slaughtered innocent lives in some warped idea of an escape. Give me one reason why you shouldn’t be put in the highest security prison and have the key thrown into the sun?”
Oh please, the only thing Conner killed was a genomorph. If Waller wanted to appeal to the boy’s morality, she needed to do much better than that.
Conner remained silent for a moment, opening his mouth to say something before stopping himself, looking more closely at the woman.
The question he asked surprised even him. “You believe in the afterlife, right?”
Waller scoffed, “There is no god or angel, only man.”
“But you believe in the afterlife,” Conner pressed, and he started to wonder where he was going with this, only for Waller to remain silent.
“Tell me, between the two of us, who do you think is more likely to spend the afterlife with the angels?”
The question made her freeze for the slightest of moments, a scowl quickly coming onto her face before she glared at him.
“This isn’t over, Luthor,” Waller said before turning to Conner. “And I will be seeing you shortly.”
As Amanda Waller left for the elevator, he couldn’t help but watch her leave, his thoughts running a mile a minute.
Curious. Out of all things Waller is scared of, he didn’t think Damnation would top the list. He thought she would be above believing in such fairy tales.
He turned back to Conner, wondering how he was so easily able to see her fears before his brain answered it for him.
‘Of course he figured it. He’s a Luthor.’
The boy didn't trust him. He certainly didn't trust the boy. That was the nature of power. But mutual benefit was far more reliable than sentimentality. Why settle for inheriting a hero's legacy when you could inherit an empire worth over a trillion dollars in assets? 
“Here,” he said, pouring a glass of champagne for his… protege.
Biologically, he was his partial clone. The boy was closer to being his son than a clone, but the word son…he wouldn’t use it yet. Protege suited him much better.
“To us,” he said, lightly clinking his glass against Conner’s.
“And to a better tomorrow.”