Every touch of their tools registered as pure data through my systems - pressure readings, thermal feedback, structural integrity reports. I sat motionless on the reinforced examination platform, letting them work on my exposed chrome skeleton. No need for synthetic skin anymore. No need to pretend at being human. They'd stripped that away along with my flesh, leaving only cold purpose behind.
My cameras tracked Dr. Hamilton's hands as he worked with the new mineral samples. His heart rate was elevated - 132 beats per minute, according to my sensors. Smart man. He understood exactly how dangerous these experiments were. The original green kryptonite had already demonstrated power beyond Earth's physics. Now they wanted to combine it with new variants they barely understood.
"Remarkable," Hamilton muttered, and my audio processors caught every tremor in his voice. "The energy resonance patterns between the variants..."
"Less observation, more progress." Lionel Luthor's voice triggered combat protocols I carefully suppressed. Soon enough, old man. Soon enough. He stood behind the radiation shielding, watching his pet weapon being enhanced. "The mineral synthesis team says these new variants are stable?"
"As stable as we can determine, given their exotic properties." Hamilton adjusted something in my chest that sent cascades of raw data through my circuits. The sensation would have made me gasp, if I still had lungs. "The energy output when they interact is... unprecedented."
The moment they brought the new cores online, power flooded my systems like liquid lightning. The familiar cold burn of green kryptonite mixed with new sensations my mechanical brain struggled to quantify. My original core pulsed in harmony with the additions, creating feedback loops that made my strength readings spike beyond their scales.
"Internal temperature rising," one of the technicians reported. My thermal sensors confirmed - 127 degrees Celsius where the cores interfaced with my synthetic musculature. "The synthetic musculature is adapting to handle the increased power flow, but..."
"But what?" Lionel's voice could have frozen nitrogen.
"The human tissue samples we used as templates... they're not designed for this kind of energy saturation. If the subject's remaining organic components can't handle the strain..."
"The subject can handle it just fine," I interrupted, letting my voice carry pure mechanical certainty. Let them worry about blown circuits and burning synapses. They still thought they were dealing with John Corbin - the broken soldier they'd tried to remake into their chrome puppet. They had no idea what I'd truly become.
Warning klaxons blared as power surged through me. My sensors registered every system redlining as strength levels exceeded their measuring capacity. I felt the examination platform groan under my weight as enhanced muscles tensed involuntarily. So much power. More than they'd ever intended to give me.
"My god," Hamilton breathed, staring at readings that shouldn't have been possible. "The cores are amplifying each other exponentially. This level of power..."
"Is exactly what we need," Lionel finished, satisfaction dripping from every word. He turned to where his son stood silently by the door. "Your concerns about 'system instability' seem rather shortsighted now, don't they son?"
My enhanced senses caught Lex's micro-expressions - the slight tightening around his eyes, the barely perceptible clench of his jaw. The younger Luthor had argued against this upgrade, not out of concern for me, but from cold pragmatism about unleashing power they couldn't fully control. Smart boy. Shame he took after his father in all the wrong ways.
"The readings are impressive," Lex replied carefully. "Though the long-term effects of exposure to multiple core variants remain unknown."
"Always so cautious." Lionel's voice carried that particular tone that made his son's pulse spike slightly. "Your sister was the same way. Always wanting to understand things instead of simply using them."
The temperature in the lab seemed to drop ten degrees. I recorded how Lex's hands tightened into fists before forcibly relaxing. Filed away another piece of the puzzle that was the Luthor family's carefully hidden dysfunction. More ammunition for when the time came.
"Run the weapons test," Lionel ordered. "Let's see what our friend can really do now."
The command activated combat protocols that felt both foreign and natural. My arm transformed with liquid grace, plates shifting to channel power that made the air itself taste of ozone. The three cores pulsed in my chest, their different colored light mixing into something that hurt human eyes to look at directly.
When I fired, the blast exceeded even my predictions. The reinforced target wall didn't just break - it ceased to exist, along with the three barriers behind it. By the time the energy dissipated, I was staring through a perfectly circular hole that went clear to the outer containment shell. Raw destructive potential that made my old military ordinance look like firecrackers.
"Holy shit," one of the technicians whispered, then immediately looked terrified at having spoken.
Lionel's smile was all teeth. "Now that's more like it. The alien won't know what hit him."
Superman. My sensors still registered phantom pain from our last encounter - the punch that had torn away my pretense of humanity, that had shown me exactly what I'd become. But now... now I had power that could actually challenge a god. The thought made my cores pulse stronger.
"The power consumption was far beyond projected levels," Hamilton reported, his scientific excitement warring with clear unease. "The cores are producing some kind of amplification effect we didn't anticipate. The raw output alone..."
"Is precisely what we need," Lionel cut him off. "Sometimes progress requires embracing the unknown, wouldn't you agree?" The question was directed at Lex, carrying layers of meaning that made my targeting systems flag potential hostile intent.
"Progress without understanding is just accidentally not dying," Lex replied quietly. "A lesson some of us learned young."
I caught the slight flinch Lex couldn't quite suppress as Lionel moved toward him. Cataloged how the younger Luthor's stance shifted unconsciously to protect his left side. Old habits born from old pain. More data for future use.
But watching Lionel prepare another "lesson" for his son triggered something in my remaining organic components - an echo of the protective instinct that had once made me a good soldier. "When do we begin active field testing?" I kept my voice pure machine, betraying none of the satisfaction I felt at interrupting whatever was about to occur. "These power levels require practical combat data to properly calibrate."
The distraction worked. Lionel turned back to his weapon, ambition overwhelming whatever disciplinary impulse he'd been about to indulge. "Soon. Very soon. Though first we need to run more controlled trials. The mineral variants' effects on Superman are still theoretical - we need to understand exactly what we're working with."
I remained perfectly still as they discussed me like a particularly interesting specimen. Let them theorize about radiation effects and power outputs. Let them run their tests and gather their data. Every moment gave me more understanding of my new capabilities. Every trial helped me learn exactly what I could do with this unprecedented power.
My chrome fingers flexed slightly, servos whining with enhanced strength. My cameras recorded every detail - Lionel's proud smile, Lex's carefully controlled expression, how the technicians flinched at my every movement. They thought they'd created the perfect weapon. None of them understood that weapons could choose their own targets.
"Your neural patterns are showing some unusual activity," Hamilton noted, studying one of his screens. "Nothing concerning, but we should probably run some additional diagnostic..."
"That won't be necessary," I cut him off. "My systems are operating at optimal efficiency. The mission parameters are clear."
"You see?" Lionel's voice carried that particular pride that made my cores burn colder. "Perfect focus. Perfect clarity of purpose."
If he only knew. Every word of praise, every proud gesture, just added fuel to the rage burning inside me. They thought they'd eliminated my humanity? They'd just given me perfect clarity about exactly how I was going to use this power.
First a rematch with Superman - a real fight, now that I had strength that could actually challenge him. All pretenses of being human eliminated so that I could focus solely in spraying the blood of this so-called God all over the floor of his precious city. And then... then I'd show Lionel Luthor exactly what happened when you gave a weapon a mind of its own.
But for now, I sat motionless as they ran their tests. My chrome features betrayed nothing as they measured and calibrated. The cores pulsed in my chest with steady rhythm, their combined power becoming more familiar with each passing moment.
Let them think they'd created their perfect soldier. Soon enough they'd learn what true power meant.
In what remained of my human consciousness, I smiled. Everything was proceeding exactly as planned.
The monster they'd made was finally ready to show its teeth.
The Daily Planet newsroom hummed with nervous energy, every TV tuned to coverage of Gulmira. Clark stepped off the elevator, instinctively checking Lois's desk before he could stop himself. Empty. Her coffee cup sat half-full, already cold - she'd been in early, probably avoiding him. His superhearing picked up her heartbeat from Perry's office, its familiar rhythm now carrying an edge that made his chest ache.
"Kent!" Jimmy intercepted him before he could reach his desk. "Perry's looking for you. Something about missing the morning meeting?"
"Had some things to take care of," Clark muttered, adjusting his glasses. The gesture felt different now that someone knew what it really meant. One more mask he didn't have to maintain, at least with her. If she ever spoke to him properly again.
"Well, heads up - Lois has been in a mood all morning." Jimmy lowered his voice. "Did something happen? You two seemed fine yesterday, but now..."
Before Clark could respond, Lois emerged from Perry's office. Their eyes met briefly before she looked away, focusing intently on her tablet. The distance in her expression hurt worse than kryptonite.
"The background piece on Corbin needs updating," she said, her voice carefully professional as she passed his desk. "Military records, medical history - anything relevant to tonight."
"Lois..." Clark started, but she was already at her desk, creating a barrier of screens between them. Twenty-four hours ago, they'd been so close to something real. Now every word carried the weight of his revelation, of her request for time to process everything.
The elevator dinged, and Clark's enhanced senses cataloged the newcomer automatically - expensive suit worn with field agent practicality, measured scanning of the room, subtle shoulder holster. Government, but not their usual alphabet agencies.
"Can I help you?" Cat Grant intercepted him first, clearly picking up the same official vibe Clark had noticed.
"King Faraday," the man introduced himself, presenting credentials. "I'm investigating potential corporate espionage involving LuthorCorp. I was hoping to speak with Clark Kent and Lois Lane."
Clark watched Lois's shoulders tense slightly at their names being paired. Her heartbeat quickened - not the way it used to around him, but with journalist's instinct recognizing a story. She still wouldn't look directly at him though.
"Corporate espionage?" Lois stood, maintaining careful distance from Clark's desk. "Involving their newest project, perhaps?"
"Among other things." Faraday's smile was practiced but not insincere. "General Lane suggested I might find you two particularly helpful, given your extensive coverage of both Superman and recent corporate developments."
Clark caught Lois's micro-flinch at the mention of Superman. Everything was different now - every reference to his alter ego carrying new weight. The secret she was still trying to reconcile.
"Conference room," she said shortly, already moving. Her body language screamed professional distance - from both Clark and their visitor. This was Lois Lane, star reporter, focusing on the story to avoid dealing with personal complications.
Once they were settled, Faraday placed a small device on the table. A soft hum that only Clark could hear suggested some kind of counter-surveillance measure. He noticed Lois had chosen a seat that kept both men in view while maintaining maximum distance from him.
"I'll be direct," Faraday began, his tone shifting to something more focused. "We're concerned about the stability of LuthorCorp's latest project. Particularly the mineral they're using to power it."
"The kryptonite," Lois supplied, and Clark heard the slight catch in her voice. Yesterday this would have just been another story. Now she knew exactly what that radiation did to him. "You mean the radiation that's clearly affecting Corbin's mental state?"
"Among other things." Faraday's eyes moved between them, clearly noting the tension. "Your coverage has been remarkably insightful about both the technical and human elements. Almost like you have inside sources."
"We protect our sources," Clark said quietly. He saw Lois's hands tighten on her notebook - she was protecting his secret now, even while still processing the weight of it.
"Of course." Faraday focused on Clark. "Though I'm more interested in your Superman connection. You've managed to get more exclusive interviews than any other reporter. He seems to trust you."
Clark caught Lois's slight headshake - not a warning, but an unconscious reaction to the layers of irony in that statement. Her pen tapped against her notebook in that rhythm he knew meant she was trying to maintain professional focus.
"I write the truth," Clark replied, the same answer he'd given at the gala, though it carried different meaning now. "About someone who chooses to help despite having no obligation to do so."
"And what's your take on his reaction to Metallo?" Faraday pressed. "The delay in responding to the challenge, the choice of venue..."
"He's trying to minimize civilian casualties," Lois cut in, her reporter's instincts overriding her personal turmoil. "Unlike LuthorCorp, who turned a wounded veteran into a walking weapon."
"That's what concerns us," Faraday admitted. "The psychological impact of the mineral exposure, combined with Corbin's existing trauma... We're worried this confrontation could escalate beyond anyone's control."
"You've studied the radiation effects?" Clark asked carefully. He saw Lois's grip tighten on her pen - this wasn't just professional curiosity anymore. She might be struggling with his secret, but she clearly still cared about what could hurt him.
"We've been monitoring similar energy patterns," Faraday said carefully, "Though nothing quite like this. The way it affects both mechanical and organic systems... it's concerning."
Clark watched Lois through the conference room glass. Her fingers had stopped moving over her keyboard at Faraday's words. She always did that slight head tilt when something caught her reporter's instincts - a habit he'd found endearing before everything changed between them.
"The radiation's changing him," Clark said, pulling focus back to Corbin. "It's not just powering his systems anymore. Something's different in his behavior patterns, his responses. Like it's eating away at whatever humanity he had left."
"Which is exactly why we need to understand what we're dealing with." Faraday leaned forward, dropping the bureaucratic mask for a moment. "LuthorCorp didn't just build a weapon - they turned a decorated soldier into a test subject. Used his trauma, his need to feel whole again..."
"To create something they can't control," Clark finished quietly.
"Your father's worried," Faraday told Lois. "He's seen enough good soldiers broken by war. But this? Giving a man that kind of power, that kind of pain? He's afraid of what it might make Corbin do."
"They used him," Lois said, speaking for the first time since their awkward morning hello. "Took everything that made him a hero and twisted it. Someone has to care about the human cost."
Her voice caught slightly on "human." Clark pretended not to notice, just like he pretended not to hear her heart race every time their eyes met across the newsroom.
Faraday's phone buzzed with that particular pattern Clark had learned meant trouble. "Radiation levels are climbing again. If you have any way to reach Superman..."
"He'll do what needs to be done," Lois cut in sharply. "Without turning it into LuthorCorp's circus show."
She stood, gathering her notes. "I should get back to work. Though I hope you understand if we keep our sources private."
At the door, she paused. "Just... tell your people to be careful. Some things weren't meant to be controlled."
Through his enhanced hearing, Clark caught fragments of Faraday's next call: "Radiation levels increasing... neural patterns showing accelerated degradation... the mineral's effects are evolving... Yes sir, understood."
Steve Lombard's shout cut through the newsroom: "Holy shit - look at the TVs!"
Every screen flickered to static before resolving into a single image that made the entire newsroom fall silent. Metallo stood atop the Daily Planet building, but not the broken machine they'd last seen in Centennial Park. His synthetic skin had been perfectly restored, making him look almost human again. Almost.
But Clark's enhanced vision caught what the cameras missed - micro-tremors in Corbin's movements, radiation bleeding through his artificial flesh in web-like patterns. The kryptonite core pulsed with a sickly rhythm that matched Corbin's increasingly erratic speech patterns.
"Superman!" His voice boomed across Metropolis, the mechanical undertones more pronounced than before. "Time to finish what we started!"
Cat Grant whispered to no one in particular, "Wasn't he... didn't he look different at the park?"
"LuthorCorp must have repaired him," Ron Troupe replied, already taking notes. "But something's wrong with his voice..."
"Time to show everyone what you really are!" Metallo continued, his restored face twisting with rage that looked wrong on his too-perfect features. "No more pretending to be their protector. No more hiding behind that human mask!"
The synthetic skin around his chest split suddenly, revealing the pulsing green core beneath. The radiation made Clark's stomach turn even through the TV screens. But what truly chilled him was how the tear didn't seem intentional - Corbin's systems were breaking down, the mineral's power eating through LuthorCorp's repairs like acid through paper.
Perry burst from his office, taking charge as always: "Evacuation protocols, people! Lane, take Jimmy up top but maintain distance. Kent-"
"Street level," Clark finished, already loosening his tie. "Try to spot Superman coming in."
His eyes met Lois's across the chaos of the newsroom. For just a moment, he saw past her professional mask to the woman who'd fallen asleep in his arms two nights ago, before his revelation had changed everything. The one who now knew exactly what that green light could do to him.
"Clark..." she started, then caught herself. They both had their roles to play, their masks to maintain. Even if neither mask fit quite right anymore.
As he headed for the stairs, Clark heard Metallo's voice growing more distorted, more machine than man: "Come face me! Let them see what happens when humanity stands up to gods!"
One crisis at a time. Even Superman could only handle so much.