Metropolis.
The City of Tomorrow stood tall, bathed in the golden light of the midday sun. Skyscrapers stretched high into the sky, their glass surfaces reflecting the clouds as they moved lazily overhead. Down below, the heartbeat of the city thrummed with life—cars honked, people bustled about, and the hum of technology filled the air.
For Superman, it was a familiar sight, a comforting one.
At least, it had been.
Everything changed six months ago.
It was supposed to be like any other day—until Doomsday arrived.
The battle had been brutal, devastating. Buildings crumbled, civilians screamed, the Earth itself shook beneath their blows. But just as Superman was preparing for the final, desperate push to put the monster down, someone else arrived.
A Kryptonian.
A man with strikingly familiar features.
He called himself Allan—no, he called himself Superior Superman.
And from the moment Superman saw him, the resemblance struck like a lightning bolt.
He looked like Alex.
The way he moved, the way he spoke, even the sharpness in his eyes—it was uncanny. But there were differences, too. His suit was sleek, a darker shade of blue than Superman's, with a bold White emblem stretched across his chest, yet he wore it proudly.
Together, they had stopped Doomsday.
Together, they had saved Metropolis.
And now, a year later, Superman was meeting him again—this time, in a place he least expected.
LexCorp Tower.
LexCorp Tower - The Office of Lex Luthor
Superman landed silently on the balcony, stepping through the massive reinforced glass doors into Luthor's office. The interior was pristine, polished to perfection, with a single desk at the far end and an entire wall made of glass, overlooking the city.
And waiting for him—
Allan.
And Luthor.
Superman kept his expression carefully neutral, his gaze flickering between the two men.
Luthor, ever the businessman, was perfectly composed—a sharp, black suit with a deep violet tie, his bald head gleaming under the ambient light. His chair was turned toward the window, his fingers steepled as he watched the skyline with an intensity that unsettled even Superman.
"Take a seat," Luthor said without looking.
Superman hesitated for a fraction of a second before stepping forward and lowering himself into the chair across from the desk. He could feel Allan watching him, his expression unreadable.
Then Allan smirked, leaning casually against the desk.
"Coffee?" he asked. "I've been practicing something new. I learned how to use my heat vision as microwaves instead of lasers—lets me warm things up without burning them. Pretty neat, huh?"
Superman let out a small exhale through his nose, shaking his head. "No thanks. Maybe next time."
"Suit yourself," Allan shrugged.
Superman turned his attention fully to Luthor now. Whatever this meeting was, it wasn't casual.
"Why did you call me here, Luthor?"
Luthor finally shifted, his piercing green eyes locking onto Superman's with an expression that—if Superman didn't know any better—almost seemed... sincere.
"Because things have changed, Superman," Luthor said. "I have changed."
Superman arched a brow. Luthor? Changing? That was a hard pill to swallow.
"Explain," Superman said, crossing his arms.
Luthor leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.
"A year ago," he began, "I disappeared. I went into hiding because I had no choice—I was put into a coma."
Superman narrowed his eyes.
"By who?"
Luthor's lips curled into a knowing smirk, but he didn't answer directly.
"That doesn't matter," he said smoothly. "What matters is what I saw. What I experienced."
Superman frowned. "And what exactly did you experience?"
Luthor leaned back, exhaling slowly.
"The truth."
A silence stretched between them.
Allan folded his arms, watching quietly.
"For years," Luthor continued, "I have sought control. I have sought power. I believed that the only way to save this world was to rule it, to bend it to my will and create a future in my image."
Superman's jaw tightened.
"And now you think differently?"
Luthor let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.
"Superman," he said, his voice almost tired, "do you know what it's like to watch your own undoing?"
Superman's eyes narrowed. "Undoing?"
Luthor's fingers tightened against the desk.
"I saw it—over and over. Hundreds of times. A thousand times. Every mistake I made, every future I created, every empire I tried to build—all of them fell. Every version of me, in every story, in every possibility—they all failed. Some in ways more catastrophic than I could ever imagine."
Superman said nothing.
Luthor's voice grew quieter.
"Do you know what happens when you watch yourself fail enough times?"
A bitter smirk tugged at his lips.
"You learn humility."
Superman remained silent for a moment, studying him.
"So that's why you cut ties with Waller," Superman said.
Luthor nodded.
"Waller is a relic of an old way of thinking. A way that leads to nowhere but destruction. I refuse to be part of it anymore."
Superman narrowed his eyes.
"And what do you want from me?"
Luthor leaned forward, extending a hand across the desk.
"To work together."
Superman blinked.
"You want me to believe you're suddenly on my side?"
"No," Luthor admitted. "I don't expect you to believe me immediately. But I do expect you to see the results of my actions."
Superman sat back, considering.
This was... unexpected.
Even a year ago, this conversation would have been impossible.
He glanced at Allan.
Allan, still smirking, simply shrugged.
"I didn't do anything bad," he said casually. "It's your decision to trust him or not."
Superman inhaled deeply before standing.
"Luthor," he said, his voice steady, "I can trust you—but my team will need extensive proof before they do. And this will take steps, one at a time."
Luthor smiled, standing as well.
"Then let's take the first step."
They shook hands.
The weight of that moment settled over the room like a silent storm on the horizon.
As Superman turned to leave, he heard Allan speak up.
"So," Allan said, his voice quieter now, "are you telling the truth?"
Luthor was silent for a moment.
Then, he spoke.
"If it was a year ago? No."
He looked toward the city, his expression unreadable.
"But now? I mean it."
Allan tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing.
"Then tell me... what did you see in the coma Alex put you through?"
Luthor's hands clenched into fists.
His voice was quiet.
"My own undoing."
He exhaled.
"Over a hundred times."