Deep within the steel-and-smoke halls of Cadmus, the newest chamber of Project Kr pulsed with quiet energy. Fluorescent lights flickered above like mechanical veins feeding the clone's tomb, and the cryo-fluid inside the containment pod shimmered with pale light. Floating within was a boy nor born, rather built
Superboy
A hybrid built from Kryptonian DNA and carefully selected strands of humanity—Lex Luthor's own
'I have successfully kept them ignorant of the meta human markers, I left in his strands. Markers carefully hidden'
G-Gnomes slithered along the tank walls, soft tendrils probing the clone's forming consciousness. One, identified as Kraig, pressed firmly against the boy's temple. Neural pulses surged, and their thoughts aligned. The education scenario began
The clone's heartbeat spiked, and inside the hybrid's mind, Superman had gone rogue, again. Another crack split across the containment glass.
Doctor Desmond leaned forward, grinning. "The aggression protocols are stable. We're conditioning him to act without hesitation. He'll be a powerful weapon"
Lex Luthor, dressed in sleek charcoal, arms folded behind his back, looked less enthused. "Weapon or not, he lacks key Kryptonian functions. No flight, no heat vision, no enhanced vision spectrum. I see strength, but not supremacy"
Marek, hands in the pockets of his lab coat, answered monotonously, "He won't have those abilities. The hybridization—your DNA—was necessary to fill the gaps that destroyed Match. But in doing so, it limits the full spectrum of Kryptonian physiology"
Lex's eyes narrowed. "You're telling me he's broken."
"I'm telling you he's stable", Marek countered, "But I anticipated your concerns"
From his pocket, he withdrew a slim metal case and opened it with a click. Inside were black patches—sleek, unassuming, "I call them shields"
Marek stepped forward and held one up between his fingers. "A temporary solution. When activated, a shield suppresses the human DNA for one hour, allowing the Kryptonian genes to fully express. Flight, heat vision, x-ray sight. All of it. After an hour, it fades. The patch turns black, and becomes harmless and inert"
Desmond and Luthor were intrigued. Lex plucked one from the case, "And the drawback?"
"Emotional volatility," Marek answered, "the longer he uses it, the more aggressive he becomes. Not unlike other metahumans when power imbalances override neural stability. But with moderation, he'll function perfectly"
Lex stared at the patch with dagger-like smile, 'He'll personally depend on me for strength'
"You've done well, Marek. These will serve us greatly", the billionaire turned toward the pod just clone stirred, fists curling as the G-Gnomes whispered another kill-order in his ear.
Desmond chuckled, "We're close to full programming. Soon he'll be operational"
Lex tucked the shield case, Marek had presented him with, under his arm, and then without turning, he spoke, "you're relieved, Marek. Doctor Desmond will oversee the remainder of the clone's education and development"
Desmond's glee was instantaneous, and he side-eyed Marek to observe the boy but Marek displayed no outward reaction
"Understood," he simply nodded
Lex turned to him now, eyes scanning the boy-genius who had made miracles
"Any other projects queued?"
"Yes," Marek said, as both him and Luthor walked out of the lab, leaving Desmond and his assistants alone with the clone
"Project: Bombshell"
Lex raised an eyebrow.
"Let's talk"
——————————————————————-x
The room was quiet. Not hospital quiet, but the sort of hush that comes after dreams have died and only breath remains. Amy Allen, fourteen, thin beneath her hospital gown, lay reclined against her pillow, watching the IV drip, 'wish he was here'
She had stopped counting the days since her diagnosis. Whatever it was, the doctors had called it rare. Unstoppable. A soft death wearing a white coat. Her father had died two months prior—military crash, training op, routine gone wrong. They hadn't even let her see his body
Now, she was surviving off the last thing he left her: a life insurance policy. It paid for her chemo, and her pills. The money was enough to keep her breathing, but not enough to make it worth the breath. She thought of running away with the money instead, waste it on expensive cuisine and world trips, but she was fighter, 'he raised me to hope'
As she reminisced about her time with her father… he appeared
She hadn't heard the door open, but when she blinked, he was there, standing at the edge of her room like he'd always been a part of it
A boy. Maybe her age, thin but tall. Skin like winter's dusk. A katana comfortably rested at his side like an extension of his own body. His eyes were unreadable, like fogged glass over red embers.
Amy sat up, "You're not a nurse"
"No," the boy replied
She narrowed her eyes, "I will call security"
"Not before you hear my proposal"
She looked at him again. Carefully. There was something—unsettling about him. But not in a frightening way. He didn't smile, but he didn't glare either
He took a slow step forward. "At the age of twelve you caught a serial killer, one who targeted young girls. You went after him, after your best friend went missing. Found his location, incapacitated him and saved his victim from certain death"
"Congratulations, you can search my name on the World Wide Web"
"You have always wanted to be a hero"
Her lip trembled slightly,"you a mind reader now?"
"No. Just observant", he tilted his head, "you joined your school's disciplinary committee; helped at the soup kitchen, down your street, every weekend"
"Ya, so what?", she retorted, "it doesn't matter anymore. I'm dying, if you can't already tell"
Marek stepped closer, "There's a way, you can still be a hero"
The room held its' breath
"You can live. Stronger than before, but I'm not offering a cure; rather a transformation. You'll become something new"
"What?", her voice quivered
"A being like Captain Atom", he answered, "Nathaniel Adam was a condemned man. They offered him a pardon in exchange for a military experiment. They sealed him inside an alien ship and detonated a bomb— not metaphorical, literal. A nuclear device. The alien metal called Dilustel melded with his skin"
Amy's breath caught
"He should've died," Marek said. "Instead, he fused with the metal. Was lost in the quantum field for decades. When he returned, he had power — raw, unfiltered atomic energy. Flight. Strength. Invulnerability"
Amy's eyes widened,"That's not in the comics…"
"They left that part out," Marek said, "because no one wants to hear what it costs to become more than human"
She looked down at her hands, too thin to make fists anymore, "why are you telling me this?"
"Because the same offer is being made to you. You're dying, Amy, but I am offering you a way to live. You'll be made of Dilustel. Like him. Your illness won't survive the process, but neither will the girl you are now"
Amy stared at him, "I wanted to be a pilot. To serve, just like my dad. We used to play pretend when I was little. I was Wonder Woman, and I'd leap off the couch, pretend I could save people, my stuffed animals from monsters made of cardboard boxes"
Marek listened
"Why me?", she whispered
"Because you still want to save people", he placed his calloused hand over hers, "even with no one left to save you. Just yesterday you donated a small portion of your money to various donations"
He reached into his coat and placed a USB Drive — matte black, like a fragment of night — on her bedside tray
"If you decide to be a part of this experimentation, wear a red hoodie, and walk into the hospital garden at noon, this Friday. I'll come"
She blinked, startled. "Wait, who are you?"
He looked back at her once, "Marek"
With that, Marek stepped towards the window — and his body unraveled into a burst of feathers and shadows, scattering into a murder of crows that vanished into the wind
The USB Drive sat in the quiet room, heavy with the weight of possibility. Amy Allen, alone with her thoughts and her pain, found a sliver of something that had almost died in her: hope
Her voice cracked. "He died thinking I'd make something of myself, and I will"
—————————————————————————x
Clark Kent stood beneath the pale fluorescent lights of Metropolis General Hospital, his hands folded in the pockets of his tan overcoat. His glasses fogged slightly from the sterile air conditioning, but he barely noticed. His eyes were on the nurses' station, where a woman in lavender scrubs nervously flipped through a logbook
"Amy Allen," he said gently. "Fourteen years old. Admitted five months ago. Terminal condition"
The nurse nodded hesitantly. "Room 419. She… she was reported missing, Mr. Kent."
"I know," he replied. "That's what I'm here to ask about"
The nurse requested a different woman by the name Sarah to escort him. She led him through busy halls to a room with the blinds half-drawn. The bed was made, and the equipment powered off, but the signs of someone having lived here remained.
"She started smiling more," the nurse said softly. "In the last week; laughing, even. I thought maybe… maybe she'd accepted it. Found some peace"
Clark moved toward the table by the bed, a throughly crushed piece USB, and a stack of sketchbooks lay beside a dulled pencil. He picked one and opened it
The first page was gentle. A beautiful drawing of a nuclear explosion shaped like a flower. The next was stranger: a boy, perhaps eleven or twelve, with a katana at his back and red eyes shaped like swirling commas
He turned more pages. Dozens of them
Drawings of black birds in flight. Of eyes staring through tangled feathers. Of strange machines and alien ships
One sketch chilled him: a girl's silhouette reaching up toward the sky, she was flying
'She didn't jump off a roof. I hope she isn't planning to'
He turned to the nurse, pointing at the boy's picture, "Do you know who that is?"
"No," she said, "Amy never had visitors. Until last week. Then she started talking about someone… but no one ever saw him come or go. She said he was her friend. Her angel. Her way out. A boy with black wings. We always thought she was talking about an Angel of Death. Ya know, Black wings, handsome face"
Clark scanned the room. No signs of forced entry. Nothing broken or strange
Back in the room, he read the final page of the sketchbook
The boy says I can still be a hero. He's not scary. He's… sad. But kind. I think he's lonely, too. I'm not afraid anymore. I want to fly. I want to burn and rise again. I want to help. If I go… maybe I'll become something new. If anyone finds this… remember my name. Amy Allen. I'm not gone. Just changing
——————————-x
The Watchtower orbited above Earth, suspended in the velvet dark of space. Inside, in one of its rarely used conference rooms, three of the League's finest convened — but no one sat. The tension between them was not hostile, but heavy
The room's light dimmed automatically as Batman activated the holo-table. A series of images flickered into existence — Amy Allen's medical chart, her drawing journal, and finally, a slowly rotating 3D model of a tall, lean boy with a katana and red, three-tomoe eyes
Martian Manhunter floated just behind the projection, arms folded. Clark Kent stood near the window, Earth: a blue and green swirl behind him. His cape billowed slightly
"She was fourteen", Clark began,"Terminal illness. Military father — deceased. And then suddenly… she smiles, draws this boy with the comma eyes, and disappears"
He opened the sketchbook. Page by page. Drawing by drawing
Batman watched closely, each page drawing a faint narrowing of his eyes
Martian Manhunter stepped forward, "She was terrified at first", he said softly, "Of death, of abandonment, and of pain. But then… her fear changed and became awe. Then longing. By the end—" he flipped to the last page, "—she felt chosen. Rescued"
"By a stranger?" Clark asked
"Don't know" J'onn's voice dropped lower, "but she felt seen and understood"
Batman folded his arms, "By Marek"
Clark glanced up, "You know the boy in the picture?"
"I have a file", Batman replied flatly, "Limited details. The League of Shadows raised him. Born to two villainous parents, Constantine Drakon and Hummingbird, he is an excellent combatant. He's been observed to refrain from killing or violent engagements"
"A League Assassin who refuses to kill?"
"Refrain", Batman replied,"he does have the capacity and skills to kill"
"He has also displayed adaptive reflex, superhuman capabilities and the power to cast illusions"
Clark raised an eyebrow, "Magic?"
"Maybe. I'm not aware of his role in the League yet, or why he would contact a sick girl. A worrying thought"
J'onn leaned in, gazing deeper into Amy's sketches, "This girl… Amy Allen… she felt that Marek was a crow watching her from the dark. But instead of fear, she felt grateful. As if he offered her a role in something larger"
"She wanted to fly", Clark whispered, "To be a hero"
"She was also vulnerable", Batman said, "Easy to manipulate"
Clark rubbed the bridge of his nose, "So what are we looking at, exactly? A new rogue? A messiah? A cult?"
Batman turned away, staring at the holo-display
"A strategist," Batman said, "I'll need to investigate more to tell you why Amy was abducted"
J'onn stepped forward. "Batman… if Amy agreed willingly, then Marek gave her choice. She wasn't abducted. She followed"
Clark stared down at the sketchbook again
"She drew him with angelic wings, shiny — and his face, handsome, with careful strokes" he murmured. "Not fangs, or fire"
"She didn't see a villain", J'onn said, "She saw a savior"
Batman's voice was grim
"Let's hope she's right"