THE ETERNAL COURSE. PART VII

May 3, 1949, TELCORP Center, Meredith Island, Metropolis Bay

Luthor observed attentively as the trio of scientists carefully maneuvered the guide through a miniature opening, they had achieved in the capsule housing the Kryptonian named CRONOS. Unlike...his progeny? ICARUS, who was almost completely disassembled and analyzed as a subject of medical and biological research, CRONOS remained within his peculiar sarcophagus, shielded by a casing that remarkably resembled gold, adorned with crystal panels. Encased within, the body was enveloped by an unusual arrangement of metallic clamps, appearing to utilize nanotechnology and coated with a mysterious layer of blue frost. The workings remained a mystery, yet the sarcophagus seemed to draw power wirelessly, utilizing it to maintain the Kryptonian in a cryogenic stasis. This system had been operational for 12,000 years. To supply energy to the capsule, Luthor had equipped a highly potent generator. Additionally, a curious black liquid screen embedded with metallic particles continuously showed symbols in one corner of the capsule, symbols that remained undeciphered but looked like ancient Sumerian.

Six months had passed since the sarcophagus—or pod—had arrived in Metropolis, concealed as nothing more than agricultural machinery. For half a year, it lay dormant in the depths of the TELCORP Center on Meredith Island, hidden away in what was supposed to be a secure vault for static electricity research. Encased in lead and surrounded by the last fragments of kryptonite that Luthor had managed to gather, it rested, guarded yet ominous. A team of twenty scientists, handpicked for their loyalty to Luthor or secretly working for the USSR under assumed identities, labored tirelessly on the project. Led by Norwegian scientist Peder Skarg, the group was a blend of engineers, geneticists, physicians, chemists, and biologists, all with one purpose. Meanwhile, Luthor's alliance with Baroness Von Gunther of the Rand Corporation grew ever more entangled. Despite the Baroness' near-captivity, their combined efforts, especially in reverse-engineering the alien craft found on Death Island, yielded breakthroughs in aircraft engine technology. Death Island, once a quiet enigma, was now a fortified zone, occupied by nearly five thousand American troops and ringed by naval forces. Both the USSR and the United States had nuclear flight plans drawn, ready to erase the island from existence should it be deemed necessary.

In those seven months, much had changed. The disappearance of the USS Aludra, a military cargo ship, along with a pocket submarine, had been officially attributed to a storm. Yet behind closed doors, the government suspected Soviet interference. The president and military chiefs remained unaware of the true stakes—that a Kryptonian body had been lost. Only a small circle surrounding Maxwell Lord and General Hardy knew the chilling truth. Hardy's sudden death, publicly dismissed as a tragic accident while cleaning his weapon, masked the reality: suicide. And now Lord was gripped by panic. The once composed military men who had overseen this covert operation had descended into paranoia, seeing spies and traitors in every shadow, pushing relentlessly for an escalation in the simmering Cold War with the USSR.

Tensions continued to rise. The government was taking advantage of Superwoman's presence in the skies around the world, helping and rescuing civilians of all nations, and creating invulnerability for her country of origin. The U.S. had succeeded in sweeping away the Communists in Greece and forcing a plebiscite in Poland, Hungary, and Czechoslovakia, which had been demilitarized and removed from the Soviet bloc. East Germany remained socialist but was surrounded, and civil war was about to break out in Romania. The Soviets responded with increased threats, nuclear tests, and aid to the Communists in China, Korea, and Indochina. Peace talks were going nowhere, while the USSR was developing the same missiles retro-engineered from alien remains that were also being built at Area 51.

We may not win the first round, but in my hands rests the end of Superwoman, the door to strategic balance and Worldwide Peace. Luthor felt invulnerable. The incipient witch hunts and the Un-American Activities Committee had not touched him. He was still a man trusted by the government. No one knew. No one suspected anything. Only Baroness Von Gunther, who, thanks to blackmail and false and hopeful news about her brother, had become just another Soviet agent, completely subservient to Luthor.

Luthor now knew who Clara Kent was, yet he remained conflicted about her true nature. He pondered if Clara Kent was merely a sophisticated ruse—a superhuman from another planet adopting the guise of a benevolent, average woman, espousing visionary beliefs about the future, akin to a modern-day messiah who chose journalism over carpentry—or if, indeed, this individual, potentially the most formidable entity in the cosmos, had chosen to embrace a mundane human existence, after having been nurtured on a farm. However, this contemplation did not deter his objectives. Time was of the essence for Luthor. He needed to make his move before the geopolitical climate spiraled beyond control for both administrations, particularly the one under Stalin, which Luthor aligned with to some extent. All of this unfolded in Metropolis, the epicenter of American capitalism, where Luthor was regarded as one of its most brilliant minds.

The guide and the kryptonite needle of extraordinary fineness, the product of months of work, carefully pierced the glass and entered the pod. There was no sound and no reaction. The symbols on the display in the corner of the capsule changed to a reddish color, but nothing else.

"Gently, millimeter by millimeter."

"Yes, Mr. Luthor."

"On my command, slow down."

The kryptonite needle touched the blue frost covering the body and pierced it. Soon they touched the body, in an arm. They had calculated that there should be a vein there. ICARUS had shown that Kryptonian physiology was identical to human physiology, even if their genetics seemed to be slightly different. The needle entered the body as a syringe was pushed over the capsule.

"Let's hope not all the blood is frozen."

A small motor began to suck the contents from the syringe. Just tiny clots of blood, but soon liquid blood, as red as human blood, began to arrive. After several hours, they managed to extract 1 tablespoon.

Luthor was ecstatic. "This is a real success, comrades, a real success."

His small team applauded enthusiastically. The small vial of 1 tablespoon of Kryptonian blood was treated like the Holy Grail. Some of them cried.

Luthor leaned against the wall with a sigh.

Finally, we will be able to study the Pathogen's reaction to living Kryptonian organisms. We have little time and few options, but we are so close…

To cheer the group up, Luthor read aloud Rudyard Kipling's poem "If," knowing that their supposed Soviet overlords would censor it if they heard it.

***

Meanwhile, 15 miles from Meredith Island, at the Planet Building, Louis Lane leaned out of the window in his shirtsleeves, adjusting his tie. It was getting dark. There was a cool breeze. He stuck his head out and inhaled. For him, the last seven months had been very different and full of changes. The separation from his wife had been finalized and he was finally together with Clara. Since college, Louis had forgotten what it was like to give and receive love daily. Living with Clara had changed everything. He was now a completely happy man...and increasingly distracted from the present. The disasters of his marriage, some certain vital loneliness, and the terrible memories of the war began to fade. Clara and his daughter occupied all his time and almost all his thoughts. During the weeks when Emily did not sleep with him, Louis did not separate from Clara. They slept together in his apartment or hers...and with Krypto at the foot of the mattress. Clara was loving and attentive to Emily, the little girl adored her. His parents also thought well of her, and his mother was in favor of the relationship, as long as he didn't start divorce proceedings with Pat and an annulment was possible. Clara's mother had spent some time in Metropolis last month and was a sweet, unassuming woman who, while not comfortable with the situation, was supportive of both. She shared an incredibly close bond with her daughter.

Despite the discretion, the entire paper and the entire Upper East Side knew about their relationship. It had been far less scandalous than expected, and Pat had begun to be seen in public with the defeated Republican mayoral candidate, Mason Norris. If Louis could get an annulment, he could marry Clara. If not, despite the weight of what he considered a sin, she would be his partner, the second mother of his daughter, and hopefully the mother of other children. They fought sometimes, Clara had forced him to give up smoking and almost to stop drinking, and he was clumsy and distracted in his work as a journalist. A consequence of his new and long-awaited happiness. But nothing else mattered.

Suddenly, he saw a red and blue stylized blur streaking across the sky. Louis looked up distrustfully. The red and blue blur soon took the form of a woman in a long red cape and began to slowly descend vertically. Some applause was heard, and many heads looked out of the windows of the skyscrapers. Although Superwoman had directly or indirectly strengthened the fight against communism and the position of the US, this was not what Louis wanted…Not like this, we can't make democracy depend on an uncontrollable superpowered being. It is not humane. It's not civilized. There is no way to enforce our laws on Superwoman. He insisted on this in columns and lectures that were increasingly criticized and to which Clara reacted with enormous coldness. The physical resemblance between the two kept him awake at night, especially on nights when they did not sleep together. Clara's absences and her resemblance to Superwoman sometimes rose like the shadow of a guillotine in his happiness, tormenting him for a few hours until he convinced himself for the umpteenth time with dozens of rational arguments that Superwoman and Clara Kent were not the same person. The red caped superheroine seemed to wave to the cars and crowd below her and took off again into the sky at full speed. If only she would disappear from our lives, if only she wasn't so necessary... We are her hostages.

Within seconds, Clara Kent appeared radiantly through the door, wearing a very elegant light grey suit jacket with a rhinestone brooch and her usual tic of adjusting her eyeglasses. There were quite a few things about her that hadn't changed since she'd shown up four years earlier in her small-town schoolteacher's look and her Navy nurse's uniform.

"Hi, my dear! How was your afternoon?" Louis greeted her.

"I already finished the interviews I had to do! Now all I must do is type them up and I'll be done." Clara entered the room trotting happily like a little girl. The reporter approached Louis without closing the door, pulled him close and kissed his lips.

"Did you miss me?"

"Quite a lot."

"Any news?"

Louis held out a teletype. "Georghe Tartarescu, the Prime Minister of Romania, has just committed suicide. A bullet in the temple. The opposition and his party have called for a general strike, but so have the communists. Troop movements all along the border. I have to wait for a communication from Washington, there will be more leaks of information to me. I may have to go get Emily and bring her back to the office."

"No way. I'm staying with her if necessary…What do you think's going to happen?"

"I think the government has assumed that they're not going to be as lucky as they were in Czechoslovakia, Hungary and Poland. There's no way the communists are going to let Romania stay neutral. They are going to accept that the communists will take power and a bloody dictatorship."

"And then?"

"Pressures from the communists to return to the government of Poland, even if it is in a government of national unity with the right wing, so the USSR will have its border secured. But that will be more difficult. The USSR is not going to support a Finnish model for the Eastern European countries."

"Will people die?"

Clara asked in an agonized, sad, almost sorrowful tone. Louis looked into her blue eyes.

"There will be some deaths these days in Romania, for sure."

"Why don't we negotiate to arrest or expel all the ex-Nazi collaborationists in all the governments to give the Soviets guarantees of peace?"

"It is not a relevant issue Clara, and left-wing propaganda. There are no war criminals in positions of power in Germany, Austria, Czechoslovakia, or Hungary. And besides, Stalin doesn't care about that. It wouldn't change anything."

"It is not true that we are not supporting criminals and ex-Nazis, Louis."

The reporter snorted and grabbed his arm. She looked at him with love and desire.

"Louis, do you think I could come tonight with Krypto to sleep with you and Emily, and tell her stories?"

"Only if you want to."

"Why do you think I'm asking?"

Clara hugged him tightly, but Louis was thinking of the unbearable tensions that threatened the post-war order.

Clara looked at Louis. What a crazy few months… She didn't even know if she was the happiest woman on earth or the most miserable. She oscillated between the two feelings in a matter of seconds. The happiest moments of her life were running almost parallel to her worst worries. Seven months of love and living with Louis, the man she loved and who gave her strength, confidence, and happiness. Seven months of increasing political pressures and the drums of war on her, on Superwoman, even though she felt more secure than ever. Seven months of lying to Louis, who, to her astonishment, while becoming happier and more affectionate with her, was also becoming more critical and aggressive with Superwoman. Seven months putting the sleeping pills Bruce Wayne had given her in Louis' drink every night they slept together, so that he would sleep soundly while she saved the world every night in her red cape, being the Woman of Steel, Superwoman. Seven months in which President Truman had admitted to her that they possessed Kryptonian technology and had shown her a capsule that had been buried for 12,000 years on an island in the Aleutians. Superwoman had begged the President to destroy it in front of a smiling Lex Luthor whom she could not yet denounce in public. She could not bear to keep lying to Louis and she suspected something terrible was coming.

"I'll ask Katz to stay tonight and cover me, I'll come in early in the morning to find out what's finally happening with Romania."

Clara stroked his face and Louis kissed her hands.

"Krypto and I will be at your house around six."

When Louis left, she sat down and buried her head in her hands. No matter what happened, she would not waver one inch from her duty to protect civilians and the protocol she had explained at the UN. Superwoman would protect civilians, whether it was from an armed robber on a street corner in Metropolis, against an armed gang for political reasons, or after an earthquake.

Jimmy opened the office door.

"Clara, you have a visitor."

"Hello, Miss Kent!"

A slender, vivacious teenage girl in a red jacket bounded into the office.

"Roberta!"

Clara stood up smiling. Roberta Lee was a teenager whose Chinese-born family had been haunted by a Klu Klux Klan cell a few months earlier... Superwoman had captured the gang, and Clara Kent and Louis Lane had written a four-handed article about it. Roberta and Clara had hit it off; the girl wanted to be a journalist and go to college.

"I was in the neighborhood and wanted to stop by and say hello."

Roberta walked through Louis and Clara's office as if it were her home and sat down at Louis' desk.

"Thank you for coming, dear. How is school going? And your writing essays?" Clara asked affectionately.

"Do you think I could finally end up working here in the summer?" Quickly asked the teenager ignoring Clara's question.

Roberta had shown great courage and insight. At the same time, she didn't quite fit in; Clara had seen herself reflected in her at her age.

"I think Mr. Lane and I will find you a corner."

"Even if it's just to sort papers, Miss Kent!"

Clara was about to answer her when she heard in the distance the cries for help after the first storms of a hurricane began to make landfall along the coast of Honduras and Nicaragua.

"Roberta, I must leave right now, I'm late to an appointment in…uh…Hoboken, I'm really sorry, please forgive me…"

"Could you write me a letter of recommendation for college? Actually, I need several."

"As many as you need!" Clara said while exiting the office at full speed.

Roberta turned to Jimmy.

"She left her purse."

"Sometimes it happens" Jimmy answered.

***

Superwoman spent several hours flying at super speed over the Caribbean, in all directions, generating whirlwinds at high altitudes and using both her heat vision and her freezing breath to dissolve the hurricane and turn it into a series of different soft storms that soon dissipated. After catching some criminals, Superwoman had to stop the first shooting of civilians in Romania in a square in Bucharest. "This will be in the papers tomorrow", she thought with sorrow.

Then she raced back to Metropolis, picked up Krypto and they landed on the roof of Louis' building. Now dressed as Clara Kent knocked on Louis and his daughter's door. As usual, Krypto pounced on Louis and Clara went straight to kiss Emily. The little girl was bouncing on the couch with a red cape tied behind her back.

Clara turned amusedly to Louis, who raised his eyebrows.

"I'm not going to scold her for that," he replied quietly.

They had dinner, put the girl to bed and pretended to go to different rooms. Then Clara slipped into Louis' room, and they shared their love, trying to combine silence and passion until they were exhausted. Clara brought Louis a glass of water with the sleeping pill already dissolved in. She waited for him to fall asleep...Hopefully one day you will understand Louis, please forgive me. When she was sure he was asleep, she put on the Superwoman costume in a fraction of a second and went out the window at super speed, making no noise but leaving the curtains of the room fluttering as if they were subjected to a hurricane wind.

May 17th, 1949, TELCORP Center, Meredith Island, Metropolis Bay

In a soundproof room, Luthor and Peder Skarg were reviewing the results of the last two weeks' tests on CRONOS' body, especially on the blood they had been able to extract from it.

"Luthor, our time is dwindling…our experiments, the minor breaches we've created in the capsule, siphoning his blood... now the cryogenic systems are malfunctioning, the specimen is deteriorating. It's defrosting bit by bit, and I suspect it's not following the Kryptonian standard procedure. CRONOS could revive or start to decompose at any moment. We've estimated that in two weeks, it will likely defrost in a manner that will cause it to degrade irreparably. We won't be able to further investigate the Pathogen's impact on a living Kryptonian"

Luthor's response was one of cold, furious detachment. His anger wasn't directed at Skarg personally; he held a deep respect for him, a committed communist who excelled at his duties. Rather, Luthor's frustration stemmed from his own oversight. He had assumed that the clamps on CRONOS' body would maintain its frozen state, and that minor punctures followed by resealing the capsule wouldn't interfere with the cryogenic process. Their initial analysis revealed a pod atmosphere almost mirroring Earth's, composed of oxygen and hydrogen, with traces of arsenic, which they had then reintroduced in gaseous form in the same proportions. It was a fundamental error, prompted by urgency, the demands of the Soviet Union, and his animosity towards Superwoman. He had succumbed to the influence of those less capable and allowed his emotions to guide him.

"Luthor... either we lose the body, or we have to launch Cadmus I."

Cadmus I was the code name Skarg and Luthor used when discussing one of their strategies with their Soviet superiors: the mutation of CRONOS through the Pathogen. Their research into CRONOS' blood and the effects of both the original and refined Pathogens indicated their potential as a weapon against Superwoman. The standard Pathogen caused living Kryptonian cells and tissues to become stronger, mutate, grow, and absorb more energy. Heat accelerated and intensified these effects, yet at extremely high temperatures, the Kryptonian cells and tissues rapidly degraded and ultimately perished. It was like a curve of empowerment and decay. The refined Pathogen triggered similar effects but to a lesser extent; mutations were less pronounced, though the cells and tissues deteriorated more quickly and severely under intense heat. This led them to speculate that the ancient Kryptonians, unable to devise a means to affect both Kryptonians and humans equally, created the Pathogen as a twisted and unfathomable tool. It was lethal to human tissue yet caused monstrous mutations in Kryptonians. Was this intended as a form of retribution for Kryptonians who coexisted with humans, transforming them into beasts to annihilate humanity before ultimately being eradicated by nuclear weapons? Did the pathogen-engineered aberrations self-destruct over time? Was this an experiment gone awry, a bizarre ritual, or a method used to decimate 99% of the human population 12,000 years ago, as some research suggested?

"Luthor, we must take a decision. It's very risky, very risky. But it is in accordance with our political directives." Skarg voice seemed to come for a distant place.

Luthor stood and walked silently around the table as Skarg watched him. Throw Pathogen over the body of CRONOS... Turn him into an aberration, let him cause havoc, let him take on Superwoman. It was an equivalent of her own species, mutated to be bigger, tougher, probably irrational...and what if it wasn't violent? The creatures created with the pathogen from the remains of dead Kryptonian bodies were violent and aggressive. CRONOS would probably become another monster. They had calculated that it would likely injure and weaken Superwoman...Time to drop a nuclear bomb on Metropolis and wipe out both creatures? Launch the refined Pathogen on both of them so that both beings involved in the battle would perish? Any statistical calculations they could make about that were pure fiction.

What if the fallout in Metropolis resulted in millions of casualties? What if, instead of undermining the credibility of the U.S. government and Superwoman, his actions made her a martyr? Was simply removing her from the equation enough? And if the unleashed beast triggered a nuclear conflict, with the U.S. pointing the finger at the USSR, what then? Luthor was at a loss, unsure of his next move - should he unleash the creature and watch events unfold, choose to end his life, or flee to the USSR after the nuclear attack or the superheroine's demise?

He knew of the American contingency operation, Unthinkable III, designed for a scenario in which Superwoman turned against humanity, involving multiple nuclear strikes to limit her chances of escape. The threat of an uncontrollable situation was imminent, and Luthor feared that his mission to defeat Superwoman might inadvertently ignite a worldwide nuclear war. Overwhelmed by these considerations, Luthor acknowledged the grim reality: proceeding with his plan carried intolerable risks.

A scientist from Skarg's team knocked several times on the doorbell of the soundproof room. Luthor opened the door.

"What's going on?"

"Peace talks in Romania have just been cancelled, there's a military alert in Moscow and Washington. The President will speak in a few minutes...Stalin's speech is expected in a few hours, probably early in the morning in the USSR."

Skarg turned to Luthor.

"Luthor, the American government is going to continue to increase the pressure, counting on Superwoman to be invulnerable. This escalation will be daily. In two weeks, we will have lost CRONOS, and a dead Kryptonian body mutated with the Pathogen will be an eyesore, but Superwoman will be able to destroy it with a blow. It's now or we quit. We may miss our chance."

"I'll work out a plan tonight and contact Moscow."

Luthor got up and left in confusion.

***

Fate had a little nudge in store for Luthor at his moment of greatest weakness and confusion. Arriving at the TELCORP Tower, he was greeted by Mercy Graves, who whispered that his secure line had received seventeen calls from untapped phone booths in San Francisco. She had refused to answer the phone until the last call. A male voice had simply said "CROATOAN" and then hung up.

Luthor understood instantly and collapsed in his chair. His eyes popped out of their sockets and his bald head drenched in sweat. He understood perfectly. CROATOAN meant that Karla's network had fallen in San Francisco, that they had been discovered somehow. The network was captured or on the run. CROATOAN also meant that even though the network was down, he was still safe and should be communicating with a network in Mexico City. If Luthor was in danger, the word should have been KUMARI KANDAM.

Luthor hesitated...what if it was a trap? What if they had all fallen and confessed? What if CROATOAN was a trap for the government to catch him communicating with Soviet spies in Mexico City? No, it was all too risky, the magnitude of his leak and betrayal was so great that if the government knew or suspected anything at that moment, he would already be in an FBI or OSS basement in front of thirty panicked interrogators. He was no ordinary second-rate diplomat or science advisor who needed to be caught red-handed. It was clear that the network was down. How much time did he have? How long would it take the government to get to him? Luthor's brain insisted that his hours as a free man were numbered. He had lost and he had only one card left to take down Superwoman.

Luthor devoted the entire night to refining his strategy, and after a period of deep reflection and solace in poetry, he came to a crucial decision. In order to avert the risk of a nuclear conflict that Superwoman's death in the clash with CRONOS might trigger, along with the unintended loss of life, he decided to publicly take full responsibility. He would declare that he had acquired the body with the help of mercenaries, conducted experiments in solitude, and released it of his own volition.

Luthor intended to absolve the USSR of any involvement. He drafted a speech and a letter of confession, intending them to be recorded and distributed. He also drafted a detailed confession and memorandum to the President of the United States, clarifying that his actions were driven by his independent judgment and in response to the government's inability to grasp the threat Superwoman posed. Included was a scientific report advocating a nuclear bombing and, before that, a refined pathogen attack on Superwoman and CRONOS if he was unable to neutralize the threats in time.

Luthor planned to release his confession to the national and international mainstream media and surrender to military authorities. In the process, he found himself longing for a belief in the afterlife, even reciting long-forgotten prayers from his youth and verses from Buddhist sutras and the Koran he had learned on his travels. Superwoman would die, probably thousands of people too, but without Superwoman the two world powers would have to negotiate, and the US would have to give up expansion in Eastern Europe. There would be no war. His confession would exonerate the USSR. The world would be free from the domination of an alien, from the domination of a false goddess. It would be a new beginning.

Luthor sent his plan to Mexico in an urgent flight case. A call came through on a secure line, with the caller simply stating that he had received "a good book". Three days later, Luthor received the Soviets' response from Moscow, discreetly hidden in books sent to Mercy Graces. The Soviets rejected his proposal, citing CRONOS' potential for catastrophe and military escalation. They considered it too dangerous; if the body thawed and showed no signs of life, they argued, Luthor and Skarg would have to admit defeat. Efforts to defuse the situation politically, with the goal of demilitarizing Eastern Europe, continued. The USSR was reluctant to start a war or cause a bloodbath in Metropolis. Alternative methods to counter Superwoman had to be explored. With the San Francisco network compromised and only Karla able to escape - with knowledge of Luthor's true identity - Luthor's position was precarious. He was advised to prepare for extraction within three weeks.

Luthor destroyed the answer by burning it in a cinerarium, his uncertainties dispelled. Amid feelings of dizziness and discomfort, he was convinced that his plan involving the refined pathogen and subsequent nuclear strike mitigated the primary dangers of the operation. He anticipated that the confrontation between Superwoman and the entity would last for hours, possibly allowing time to evacuate Metropolis and reduce casualties. Alea Jacta Est. Luthor would disobey the USSR as he had betrayed the U.S. government. He was the sole captain of his soul, and only he could defeat Superwoman.

***

Over the next few days, Luthor fired nearly all the scientists working with him at CRONOS, pretending to be following Soviet orders. Skarg left, grumbling that they were losing their last chance to defeat Superwoman. He made several millionaire donations to charities of his choosing and gave his employees time off for the day he had planned the event. Luthor also called a dozen people he held in high regard, advising them to leave Metropolis using bizarre political excuses. Some Secret Service agents picked up on Luthor's activities but dismissed him as irrelevant, just a big businessman spooked by diplomatic tensions.

Then came the hardest part, convincing his wife and daughter.

"Aline, you must leave Metropolis, go to West Virginia with Leda and our grandson."

"Alexander, I'm not leaving until you tell me what's going on."

"I only ask you to leave for a week. There is a real menace of dangerous events in Metropolis."

"What kind of events?"

"Dangerous events, the leaks have not been detailed."

"And why doesn't anybody alert the public?"

"Because the risk level is too low to cause panic, but I'm asking you to leave."

"That is unfair, Alexander."

Eventually, Aline, Leda, his grandson, and a retinue of servants left for Luthor's country home in West Virginia. Now alone at last, he had hired two dozen mercenaries. Wild, desperate men from Gotham and Metropolis who had been thrown out of work by the fall of the mob in recent years thanks to Superwoman and Batman. He needed no more.

CRONOS was on Meredith Island, he had about fifty gallons of pure Pathogen and another thirty of refined Pathogen. Luthor had circled the date on his calendar, contemplating whether to confront Superwoman directly or to attempt to initiate a dialogue with her. The idea of involving Louis Lane crossed his mind. He shuffled through recent newspapers: headlines of Superwoman's heroics were everywhere—rescuing families from a fire in India, saving a hundred passengers on a Comet DeHavilland from a tragic fate, protecting civilians from communist unrest in Romania, apprehending thieves, averting car mishaps... There was also an article about Superwoman persuading a judge to release a rehabilitated thief, arguing that everyone deserves a chance for redemption and forgiveness. All these lies will soon come to an end.

***

In the last few days, it seemed that the political pressure and diplomatic tensions had eased. Clara smiled. The day before, Superwoman had dined at an orphanage in Philadelphia with a group of children who had written her a letter. Without giving too many details, she told them a few things about her childhood. Today she was at Louis' house with his daughter, sitting in silk pajamas reading stories to Emily. Louis was typing furiously as he wrote about the domestic implications of the Soviet proposal to demilitarize Poland, Hungary, and Czechoslovakia without giving up the Soviet bases in East Germany and Kaliningrad.

"Louis, dear, your article is coming out in two days, come with us."

"Yes, Daddy, come with us."

"What are you reading?"

"Tales and Legends of Burma."

Louis snorted and smiled, sitting down next to them.

"Don't you want to read it to her?" Clara warmly asked.

"No, I'd rather you do it, Clara."

Clara smiled at him. She was extraordinarily happy at that moment. Louis was happy too. He must understand that all this is true, and that it is not incompatible with me being Superwoman.

Her work on the Rand Corporation and Luthor had stalled and was no longer of interest to the public or her bosses. However, she and Louis had finally found a publisher and illustrator for her children's stories about DeeDog, Mr. Leezard, and the Komfy Dragon. Clara was very excited about the project. She even had the opportunity to read two stories over the radio on the KBBL children's program, which had received very good reviews.

In a different vein, she visited the White House as Superwoman, and the President had explained all the experiments with Kryptonian technology to her…and despite the Woman of Steel's pleas he had refused to cancel the research. Instead, the President promised to brief her regularly. Clara wondered if Luthor would take advantage of these investigations to attack her. Remember what your father said, if you think too much about your personal worries you will lose your mind. Think more about helping others.

May 26, 1949, Metropolis

Luthor received the information from one of his investigators. Clara Kent and Louis Lane were going that night to the Metropolitan Opera to see Mahler's Seventh Symphony. Tomorrow was the day, it was all planned, but he wanted to get close to the couple. He didn't know if he wanted to scare them, make them nervous, or just study their reaction. It didn't really matter, they would have to face him tomorrow, but he wanted to see them, he had to surprise them. It was a stupid thing to do, but Luthor couldn't resist his temper, so he put on a tuxedo and went to the Opera House.

***

Clara and Louis walked holding each other's arms through the foyer. They were elegantly dressed, Clara with a high bun, her new glasses, a long green evening grown, and the pearl necklace Louis had given her a few days before, Louis with an elegant Tuxedo. Clara tried to concentrate on enjoying the evening with Louis, the music...but soon the news came back to haunt her head.

"How do you see the diplomatic negotiations, Louis?"

"The tension seems to have eased in the last few days, but you've seen the USSR. They've threatened to withdraw from the UN Security Council if any Superwoman action outside US borders is not banned, even if it's humanitarian. Unless it has legal permission from the local government."

Clara sighed inwardly, "Legal permission to save people. My government or I will have to negotiate with other governments to let me save people from drowning or being crushed to death by a landslide… or to stop civilians from being killed..."

"This was bound to happen, Clara, Superwoman couldn't be the world's police. Anyway, let's forget about it because you and I are neither here nor there. Cat Grant will follow up on this story."

"Sure…"

"What would you like to do this weekend? Would you like to go away to any little town?"

"I don't want to go near the ocean this time. Let's go to the mountains and sleep outside on Saturday."

"I'll get dehydrated if you keep me away from the sea, Clara," Louis laughed.

"Hi there, the most important reporting couple in the universe…I wonder how many of the people around us can imagine your incredible significance," A sharp voice sounded in their back.

Clara's heart skipped a beat as she recognized Luthor's voice. She felt a mixture of hatred and fear run through her entire body…Never hate anyone, Clara, there is nothing worse than that. Louis had already turned around and looked at Luthor coldly. The millionaire scientist stood alone and looked at them with a strange smile.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Lane."

Louis stood in front of Clara. The reporter could see a look of absolute rage on Louis's face and how he wrung his hands.

"What do you want, Luthor?" Louis asked fiercely.

"To greet you both, that's all. It's exciting to see people like you mingle with the crowd. How does Mr. Lane feel? Do you feel like Mary Magdalene must have felt according to the apocryphal gospels? Chosen for the Messiah's greatest intimacy!"

Louis' expression changed from violent to one of shock and incomprehension. Clara saw Louis raise his arm to strike Luthor and she quickly stopped him.

"Louis, please don't listen to him, he's a psychopath," She anxiously said.

"Miss Kent, we've only met once and you're already calling me a psychopath? But actually…We've met a few more now that I think about it... Mr. Lane, listen to her, you know she's much stronger than you." Luthor had a sardonic smile.

Louis was petrified, looking at Luthor with hatred and incomprehension. Luthor looked at him intently, ignoring Clara.

"I see you are surprised and as if you don't understand me..." Luthor turned to Clara with a malicious smile and then back to Louis, "Don't tell me you didn't know! You look at me as if you don't understand anything! Didn't you know that the day Clara was born there was a freak meteor shower in northeast Kansas?"

"Enough Luthor!"

Louis tried to lunge at Luthor, but Clara grabbed him again. Louis turned to Clara with an expression of deep pain and strangeness, perhaps surprised by the strength with which the journalist held him and prevented him from lunging at Luthor.

"You're very calm, Miss Kent... Mr. Lane, I've always found you to be an intelligent and noble person. You've always been calm in our encounters. Do you remember Metallo? Miss Kent remembers him too."

He knows, he knows, what a shame, he knows, you evil monster... oh Louis! Clara stepped in front of Louis and spoke to Luthor in an almost inaudible tone.

"Luthor, if you don't leave, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. I swear to my father's memory."

"Miss Kent, you shouldn't threaten or swear…Where are the good old ways? It's disappointing to hear that from a supposed Quaker."

Luthor smiled beatifically and slipped away through the crowd. Clara felt like crying and like disintegrating Luthor with her heat vision. She was afraid to turn to Louis, but he grabbed her hand.

"He's mentally ill, I warned you, a real sicko. Maybe we shouldn't have questioned him so openly in the past...now he's ranting about some absurd, delusional madness. Forget it. He just wanted to make us uncomfortable. Let's have a drink," Louis' message was reassuring, but his voice and expression were mechanical and utterly cold.

For the rest of the concert, Louis didn't turn around for a single second, staring straight ahead with a completely lifeless expression. Clara knew him very well, when Louis acted with coldness and forced indifference, something very painful and violent was going on inside him. Clara's tears came to her eyes several times, and not because of the music. Luthor watched them with binoculars from his opera balcony...What a strange couple. How could he not know about it? Tomorrow will be an absolutely historic day.

***

In the taxi they did not share a single word. Clara was anxious but Louis remained calm. She took his hand, and he took hers in what seemed to Clara a strange way. They went to Louis' house. Emily wasn't there, she was with her mother. The first thing Louis did was to go into the living room, take out a bottle of whiskey and pour himself an almost full glass, which he drank in one gulp.

"Do you want anything to drink, Clara?"

With elegant gestures, Louis poured himself a second glass, which he also almost drained in one gulp. The journalist sat down in an armchair with the glass and the bottle, trying not to look at Clara. She approached him.

"Give me that, please, I beg you."

Louis ignored her but got up and left the glass and bottle on the drinks trolley. Clara was afraid to speak or say anything, but finally she dared.

"Don't you want to talk?"

"Talk about what?"

"Louis, I don't want to play cat and mouse."

"But who's the mouse and who's the cat? That's a fair question."

Clara adjusted her glasses. She was ready to take them off, let her hair down, take off her dress and reveal her red cape and Superwoman costume. They had been in love for years, and finally for seven months, loving each other with freedom and living together. Louis had to love the woman she was. Everything they had told each other and experienced was true. Louis had to understand that the woman he loved was there. She was just the woman who sometimes, to do her duty and use the talents God had given her, jumped out of the window with a red cape. There were not two women, there was only one. He had to be able to see it, if he really loved her.

Louis continued to ramble on in a self-satisfied tone.

"After all, what is Truth?"

"The truth is I..."

"I didn't ask for a specific truth; I asked what Truth is. Different questions."

Clara began to get angry. You are cowardly and unjust, Louis, deeply cowardly and unjust. But he reached out to her and took her shoulders lovingly.

"How short is the time of happiness." Louis was smiling in a strange way, like Luthor.

"Louis, I love you, that's the first and most important thing. Our whole story is true, if it's of any use to you."

But Louis answered with a sardonic smile and silence.

"Louis please..."

Clara couldn't stand it any longer, she wanted to take off her glasses and her dress. She didn't want to get into a cruel game of recriminations between shadows and misunderstandings with Louis, but he turned around.

"There's a one-in-a-million chance I'm wrong, and that you're wondering what the hell I'm talking about."

"No, you're not wrong," Clara replied coldly and firmly. No more lies.

"You are her." Louis voice sounded like a hurt and broken whisper.

Clara was incapable of replying. She felt as if the ground was opening up under her feet.

"Then I have let a stranger into my house, please go away." Louis continued dryly.

"Louis, I beg you..." Clara broke down in sobs.

"I beg you to leave. We'll talk when I can, if you want, but for tonight, believe me, I've had enough. If you don't go, I'm the one going. Probably you have duties elsewhere," Louis drew the curtains of the living room and opened the art deco windows of his house. Mostly all of Manhattan Skyscrapers were lit up.

Clara looked at him hurt and defiant...she wanted to tell him she loved him but didn't dare. With super speed she flew out of the window and was lost in the sky.

Louis went back to the drinks trolley, pulled out another whiskey and began to sip.

May 27th, 1949. Metropolis. In the morning

Louis had to drink a lot to sleep. He dreamed that everything he had experienced the night before was a nightmare. He had dreamed of normality, but when he woke up he realized that it was real. Louis had drunk a little more than a bottle. It was ten in the morning. He decided to stay in bed. He felt a deep sorrow but also an enormous relief. All his doubts, that shadow-chasing, his self-deception... It was all over. He felt a deep anger, but he did not feel surprised…the surprise had lasted only a short time. It was all too obvious, extremely obvious. Perhaps deep down he had always known the truth, he had simply been deceived. Amid a quiet despair, Louis came to a conclusion that morning: Clara Kent was a fabrication, merely a cunning facade crafted by a vastly superior extraterrestrial being, who had come to regard him with the kind of affection one reserves for a cherished animal companion.

But Louis needed rest, he needed sleep, he needed to forget the world and plan a graceful exit from the newspaper, from his present life. Poor Pat, what a situation I got you into for such a short love spree, our sham of a marriage was more bearable than this. Louis fantasized about having fired Clara Kent in her first few weeks at the Daily Planet, when she responded in bad ways to him and conscientiously disobeyed all his orders. It didn't matter. He had his daughter, his parents, his siblings, a somewhat future opportunity in college and in politics, and if Pat wanted to return to some hypocritical arrangement, he was ready. He acted like the gambler who was relieved to have lost all his money and wanted to forget it quickly and hide it by going back to his normal life.

Louis called the newspaper, to Cat Grant, and Mailer's secretary.

"Mrs. Blakenship? How are you? This is Mr. Lane...please tell Mrs. Grant or Mr. Mailer that I won't be at the paper until Tuesday...that's right, until Tuesday. No, I'm leaving town. Mrs. Grant has copies of my articles for Sunday and Monday, so it won't be a problem. Just a family matter."

The secretary's voice suddenly said what Louis feared the most.

"Miss Kent is just here, would you like to speak to her?"

Louis immediately hung up and started packing. He trusted Superwoman to respect him and leave him alone...But what if she didn't? What if she turned on him? He couldn't go to his house in Oyster Bay or his parents' house in Hyannis Port, Clara knew those places. She also knew the hotels where he liked to hide out in Innsmouth, Nantucket, Arkham - right next to his beloved University - and Dunwich. He had taken her to all these places. Lovers' adventures. He decided to go to the southern New Jersey shore. A former sergeant in his battalion, with whom he had fought a thousand battles in the war, Dick Malverne, lived there. They were very different men, Malverne a tough but charming mechanic married to a black woman. They had been forced to leave Virginia because of segregation laws. Louis had a strange correspondence friendship with him. They had done each other many favors, and Louis had left him money. He felt hopeful running away for a few days. On Tuesday, he would return, confront Clara and leave the Daily Planet gracefully. And move on.

The doorbell rang. God forbid it isn't her, I hope she wouldn't dare. But if Clara wanted to come in, she had plenty of ways to get in. The doorbell rang again. He decided to answer it, forgetting to look through the peephole before. Louis felt infinitely tired when he saw Luthor, wiry and thin, wearing a hat pulled back to his eyebrows, accompanied by two huge men who looked disturbing and were undoubtedly armed.

"Good morning, Mr. Lane."

"I beg you to leave me alone if you are looking for Miss Kent."

"Don't worry, we can do without her for now, we know you're alone."

Luthor came in without asking permission and took a tour of Louis' apartment.

"Very elegant, lots of books, you have very good taste... Do you know how sixty per cent of Americans live?"

"Luthor, do you know it? or have you just heard about it?"

"I'm not interested in debating with you. I see you were packing a suitcase, finish it and come with us. And don't even think about warning your girlfriend."

"I think you know her better than I do... and I'm not going anywhere."

One of Luthor's escorts pulled out a gun and pointed it at him.

Luthor approached him and spoke very quietly.

"Don't get nervous and keep your voice down. In my offices and at my home, I have an ultrasonic machine whose sounds are unbearable to the Kryptonian, so I can talk in private. I'm used to it. Here we are exposed. Be a good boy, Lane. I know it's hard for you, but this is the end of the escape. Finish packing your suitcase, throw in a few books or a beloved Bible of yours, and join us happy and smiling. We now have around an hour before your birdie is no longer entertained by the distraction we have prepared for her."

"And if not, what will happen?" Louis put on a silly tone as he tried to approach a drawer where he had a gun. Let them put a bullet in my head right now and that would be the end of it.

"Don't be silly Lane, I think the world of you, now I'll end up thinking you're nothing more than a melodramatic rich kid. If you resist, we'll put a bullet in your head, and I'll kidnap your official wife and daughter. That way I can better experience the limits of Superwoman's reactions and her true feelings for humanity."

Louis shuddered, closed his eyes and accepted. Under no circumstances would he risk his daughter's life or Pat's. It was terrible to be in the hands of a madman, but he would accept it. Maybe this was the end. He felt a strange calmness.

"Positive."

"Good boy."

***

By midday they were on a TELCORP boat heading for Meredith Island. Luthor looked curiously at Louis Lane who remained silent and impassive. What a specimen of the new America. Bourgeois, military, journalist, grandson of immigrants, Jewish background but baptized Catholic, staunch anti-communist but anti-Nazi, rather stupid, unimaginative, system believer, drunkard, adulterer...the new ruling class of America. Luthor did not know if he found it preferable to the old aristocracy. The new ones would be harder to crack but would also do more damage before falling. What would the superheroine have seen in him? He was an attractive man in a good position, one of many, but he was not particularly noted for either. Luthor would have understood better if the superheroine had taken a liking to Bruce Wayne, but maybe the Kryptonian just didn't like costumed strongmen.

They disembarked at the sprawling industrial facility, which stood eerily silent, save for a handful of guards. Luthor wasted no time, ordering them to return to the shore immediately in the launch. With an air of quiet authority, he led Louis toward a large elevator, and together with some henchmen, they descended into the depths of the facility. The elevator doors opened to reveal a glass-enclosed control room, lined with military-grade computers, study tables scattered with papers, and a maze of wiring. Beyond the glass walls stretched a vast circular chamber, dominated by a towering metal dome studded with glowing light bulbs, casting an unsettling glow over the space. At the center of the room, a large electrical generator hummed ominously, its sharp cracks and sparks punctuating the stillness. Next to it stood a metal-and-glass sarcophagus, open, and inside, barely discernible in the flickering light, a male body writhed and convulsed repeatedly, as if trapped in a nightmare of electricity.

"Luthor... What have you done?" Louis asked with fear.

"What would you be willing to sacrifice to save the lives of millions? We are over three billion people... How much is the life and future of our children and grandchildren worth? What price would you be willing to pay?" Luthor was calm.

"Luthor..."

"Listen to me, we are multiplying, we are reaching marvelous heights in art and technology, we are about to touch space with our fingers...at the same time we continue to generate terrible famines and wars, untold atrocities. People like you are driving a suicidal economic model, and those on the other side are great theoreticians, but when they collide with reality, they resort to cruelty, sometimes unnecessary. I recognize it. We are all human, but we lack the spirit of brotherhood and self-improvement to understand that we are all brothers in this blue ball... and that we must be free and dignified. Did you know that my geneticists calculated that 12,000 years ago, 99% of humanity was wiped out by your girlfriend's ancestors? Do you want us to be dependent on them? Or do you want a nuclear war overseen by the lady in the red cape?

Louis was overwhelmed by Luthor's verbiage. But he understood what he was getting at.

"I like one of the two combatant powers better, Mr. Lane, I think it has a tighter calculation of the future and a better grasp of history, I refer of course to the Soviet Union. I don't know if this surprises you...but they are wrong in their cruelty and in their handling of human freedom and dignity. They do not understand the genius of mankind. I have concluded that the best thing is for the two sides to be in a perpetual standoff, under a sword of Damocles, sometimes watching each other, sometimes working together, but letting man be man and moving forward. We cannot do that by submitting to a super-powerful alien that also helps one of the two powers and could make one crush the other, unbalancing the world and making it easier to control."

Louis thought of all the moments he had shared with Clara and their common values. He was unable to imagine her enabling a war or controlling Humanity...But she had the capacity to do that and much more.

"Do you know how long the life of Mrs. El, or Mrs. Kent, or whatever you want to call her, would last? I was able to analyze her blood once after her fight with Metallo. From the age of thirty, she ages thirty to forty times slower than a human. At six or eight hundred years old, she will barely look fifty. Do you think that in six or eight hundred years this being will not realize that she is not a reporter, or a farmer and she will realize that the world belongs to her completely? You are a Catholic... are you prepared for the arrival of the Antichrist? Of the false Messiah..."

"Mr. Luthor…"

"She is already here to abolish man and his history, to make him a slave, to manage him at her whim, as she has done with you. Forget her caresses and her disguise as a model young New Deal girl...You've written about it. Are you ready for what Superwoman means? And more importantly, are you ready to do what needs to be done?"

"What do you want from me?" Luthor had opened the valve of doubt inside Louis.

"Help me take her down. We have very little time, maybe we can avoid a lot of deaths and a lot of chaos. If you side with me, maybe we can come up with a quick way to finish her off and avoid using that thing you see in the middle."

Louis was falling apart, overwhelmed by the sight of the convulsing body in the chamber. Luthor's words had struck a chord in his fears and beliefs. But he couldn't trust him. What if he was deceiving him? What if he was responsible for millions of deaths? And what if Superwoman really was Clara—a woman full of compassion and duty, someone who would never harm humanity? Could he kill the woman he loved based on the twisted delusions of a madman who wasn't even loyal to his country?

"What will you do, Lane?" Luthor insisted.

"I don't trust you, Luthor. There's no way I don't see death and betrayal in what you're offering me."

"Then pray and wait. You're a coward. You lack the necessary strength," Luthor turned to the mercenaries, "Take him downstairs and chain him up. Set up an ultrasonic generator next to him...You see Lane, we want to keep you very close, but we don't want Superwoman to know about it, let's say she hunts by hearing."

Louis regained his composure and dignity. He began to pray in silence while looking defiantly at Luthor. "Who or what is that?" Louis pointed to the convulsing body.

"My dear Mr. Lane, what we have here is the doomsday for a fake goddess. You'll understand soon enough."

"…Doomsday". Louis silently prayed that was not true.

May 27th, 1949. Metropolis. 16.00 PM

Clara Kent fought back tears as she rearranged a series of index cards in Louis' handwriting. She was in the office they once shared. Cat Grant sat at Louis' desk, bundled up in her fur coat despite the heat, with her sunglasses still on.

"I bet, my dearest Clara, you don't know what a terrible hangover is. But you look like you haven't slept at all."

Clara didn't answer.

"Men are very unpleasant, aren't they, my dear? Don't neglect your career...How are those index cards coming? I need all the information Louis has on these Romanian diplomats. He is our most knowledgeable person in the Mediterranean and Eastern Europe. Before he runs off to the State Department or with McArthur, we need to get all his files. We'll be the queens of political reporting. Well, I already am, but I've always focused more on Western Europe."

"Yes, of course," Clara replied reluctantly. She didn't like working for Cat. She had just had one of the worst nights of her life. Not for a second had she stopped helping people dressed as Superwoman, but the whole time she suffered from her fight with Louis. She wanted to talk to him again, but she did not dare to. In the morning Superwoman had to save a 40,000-ton Italian liner with 1,800 people on board from sinking. She lifted it into the air and took it to port. The rescue lasted for two hours. There had been a strange explosion in the hold…Saboteurs? But she couldn't stop thinking about Louis...and about Luthor either. Why had he done it? To hurt her?

"Tremendous business with the boat huh? It could have been a disaster; thank goodness the Lady in Red&Blue took care of it. I'm sorry I didn't let you go to the dock, but we already have half of the paper staff working on it. Besides, they've all been saved, so it's nothing more than an anecdote." Cat sighed.

"Absolutely."

"Clara dear, you have a lot of potential, but I think working with Louis is making you rusty. I suspect you'll be seeing a lot of him outside the office from now on. I think it's time you stopped being an assistant reporter and became a senior reporter. I'm not that bad to work with me. Louis loves me. Perry loves me."

Clara ignored her as she continued to go through the files. Then, an unbearable sound caused her ear to hurt intensely. She couldn't help but gasp and put her hands to her head. She knew it well…ultrasounds…It was the way first Zod and then Luthor had used to contact her. Inside her heart the beats accelerated.

"Are you all right, dear?"

"My head hurts so much." The beeping sounded again, neither Cat nor anyone else heard it, of course, but to her it was unbearable. Then a message came over the air in a very recognizable voice, and despite the worry, pain and anger, it didn't surprise her.

Clara Kent, Kala-El, Superwoman... How many names do you use? How many will you use in the future? Anyway, I want you to come to Meredith Island immediately. It will be easy for you to find me. I have a very important proposition for you. If you ignore this message, Mr. Lane will suffer an ominous fate, and worse things will happen anyway. Don't be late, you have five minutes, I know you can make it in less than one.

Clara jumped up like a spring.

"Where are you going? We haven't finished the files, I need them for my article," Cat Grant said with displeasure.

"Cat, I'm really sorry, but I'm really sick and I have to go," Clara said as she slammed the door.

In two steps she reached a filing room, it was locked, but she was so determined that she ripped off the lock and went inside. In less time than a human eye could blink, Clara took off her glasses and opened her jacket and shirt, revealing the crest of the House of El, that red and yellow symbol similar to a stylized "S". She tore off her skirt and stockings as she spread her cape and flew out the window at full speed. Superwoman was to the rescue.

Cat Grant saw the red and blue blur in the sky above the Daily Planet and sighed to herself, "Poor girl, she's the best we've got."

Superwoman landed on Meredith Island. The noise from the various ultrasonic systems was torturous, but Luthor had turned down the volume. She tried to find Louis, but his heartbeat sounded cut off by interference. He was close, but he could be anywhere in the city. But Luthor was very close. The Maid of Might detected with her x-ray vision a lead dome underground. She couldn't see what was inside, so at super speed, spinning like a top, she made a hole in the ground and went down through concrete, iron and equipment.

A cloud of debris preceded Superwoman as she landed in the room. She was visibly upset, and with her eyes lit by the heat vision. She moved at super speed, knocking down all Luthor's bodyguards, who fell violently to the ground, and launched herself at Luthor, grabbing him by the neck and pinning him against the wall.

"What a performance, calm down Mrs. El." Luthor kept his composure.

"It's over, Luthor. I'm going to end your crimes forever." Superwoman squeezed his neck and Luthor began to feel short of breath.

"Look to your right, you monster!"

Clara turned and saw for the first time, in the center of the large room under the dome, a body in a strange sarcophagus writhing in sparks next to a generator.

"Louis!!!"

The superheroine rushed to the body but was struck dumb with astonishment when she saw that it was not Louis, but a slender, young, long-haired man dressed in an exoskeleton she recognized from Ancient Krypton. Similar things had been shown in Kelex holographs. He was bound to the sarcophagus by strange metal clamps with Kryptonian symbols on them. The sarcophagus was filled with a strange blue water that channeled electricity.

"It's not Louis, it's a little gift from history, come back and let's talk," Luthor yelled as he tried to pull himself together and coughed. His bodyguards were writhing on the ground, bound hand and foot by their weapons, which had been bent with super strength at nearly the speed of light.

Clara floated over to Luthor and grabbed him by his shirt and jacket.

"You're going to jail. You're not getting out of this one. I don't think you have government approval for this...tell me where Louis is, or you'll regret it."

Louis' heartbeat sounded sometimes close and sometimes far away.

"You understand nothing, Mrs. Krypton. Absolutely nothing. You are in no position to ask for anything." Superwoman threw him to the table. Luthor was bleeding a little from the corner of his mouth. She felt guilty...her father Joe Kent's voice sounded far away on a Kansas farm in the early 1930s.

"These gifts you have, Clara, many people will not understand them, they will fear them. To use them well to help others quietly and discreetly is extremely difficult. The possibility of abuse or excess is certain. The world needs humble people who work quietly and turn the other cheek. We have a surplus of leaders with great human powers... imagine having one with powers that are not from this world."

Superwoman breathed in and out and calmed herself. She went over to Luthor and helped him to his feet.

"Luthor, I beg you, what do you want from me? Let's get this over with."

"Today everything ends, for you and for me."

"What do you mean?"

Luthor coughed blood with an almost smile that frightened Clara while he pointed to the sarcophagus.

"That thing there is one of the greatest paradoxes in history. It's a heroic paradox. It is possible that no one but us will ever know it, and that is one of its wonders. How many times has the history of the world been twisted by miracles like this that were never known by common people and historians…"

"LUTHOR TELL ME THE TRUTH!" Clara screamed.

Luthor looked at her with satisfaction.

"That's an ancestor of yours over there, from your planet, a few generations before you. He came 12,000 years ago. I believe you know the story. He came with an armada to ravage the Earth, wipe out humanity, and punish the Kryptonians who lived alongside the humans, or so we've speculated. They almost succeeded, almost wiped us out. But they failed. They caused the greatest extinction mankind has ever known, but they failed. And here we are. He was left in that ship you saw with the President, buried under water and mud. And here he is. A Kryptonian who came here to destroy us. You're another Kryptonian who's here to wipe us out... not today, but who knows, in a few decades or centuries, you've got plenty of time. You do not belong in this world; you represent its end or its corruption. You are a false goddess...I was talking to Mr. Lane earlier...You are the Antichrist the Christians wrote about."

"LUTHOR, WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?"

"Nothing you can give me. You will not take your own life of your own free will, and you will not leave of your own free will in search of another world, at least not without conditions that will allow you to return. That is intolerable. I want your end. I want the triumph of humanity over the Titans, the Nephilim, and the fake gods. This is your doomsday, Kala-El from Krypton."

Luthor pressed a remote control in his hand and the ultrasounds grew louder, causing Clara to scream in pain. She fell to the floor. Just then, she heard a small explosion. Some objects had fallen from an opening in the ceiling, Clara hadn't seen them clearly, but they were a series of crystal warheads filled with a black liquid. They had fallen on the Kryptonian prisoner who was now writhing in black smoke, stained with liquid that looked like oil. The sparks were even bigger and the whole room was filled with electricity. Clara began to cough and felt weak. She soon understood, a large part of the dome was lined with Kryptonite.

"My God…Luthor…What have you done? Why have you done this?"

With pain, Clara felt in a few seconds how Luthor's fears and accusations intertwined with the fears of her adoptive parents, with the rejection of Louis and so many others to Superwoman, with Pete Ross... That afternoon, a few days after they got engaged, walking in the outskirts of Smallville, when she was just 21 years old, an apprentice elementary school teacher, when she wanted to show Pete her powers. He ran away terrified. How it took days before Pete wanted to see her again, and how difficult it took Clara to convince him that she wasn't possessed by the devil, and yet he broke off the engagement, to marry her friend Lana Lang years later.

"Just watch me," Luthor said contemptuously as he pressed another detonator, and more crystal warheads fell on the Kryptonian in front of a stunned Clara.

The Kryptonian began to scream, but the sound was inhuman, a hollow, lifeless cry—like the bellow of a bull in its final moments. His body was completely charred, hair igniting as his flesh swelled and blackened. And yet, despite the agony, the Kryptonian suddenly sat up, tearing off his restraints with raw, primal strength.

Superwoman flew toward the Kryptonian, reaching out to restrain him, but was caught off guard by the sheer force of his response. The creature twisted violently, landing a powerful blow that sent her crashing into the dome's ceiling, slamming into a sheet of Kryptonite. Gasping in pain, she fell to the ground, her eyes widening in horror as she watched the Kryptonian begin to mutate. His body swelled grotesquely, skin stretching unnaturally as his teeth fell out, replaced by jagged, razor-sharp fangs. His arms grew longer and more muscular, fingers twisting into thick, clawed talons. As his monstrous form expanded, the remnants of his Kryptonian exoskeleton began to crack and splinter, either falling away from his body or becoming embedded in his swelling muscles—jagged shards of metal tearing through his flesh, a terrifying fusion of alien biology and twisted machinery. Superwoman managed to sit up and turned her heat vision on the creature, seeming to sear its flesh and cut it open, but the more beams she threw at it, the more the creature swelled. The openings in its body closed again, broken bones pierced the monster's skin and covered it with deformities. Clara, you were able to defeat Zod and his terrible machines, you managed to help all of humanity, you stopped hurricanes, tsunamis, nuclear missiles, war criminals, mobsters, mutants... You can do this and much more!

At super speed, the Woman of Tomorrow began to punch the monster. Again and again, but the more she hit it, the more pain she felt. The creature's bones and the remains of its exoskeleton cut her hands, which were soon bloody and full of wounds. The creature groaned in pain but struggled against her, slamming Clara to the ground as she made her way through several floors to what must have been the basement. The creature jumped through the hole and landed on top of Superwoman and began to pounce on her. It grabbed her cape and threw her upward. Superwoman went through the dome and fell back into the rubble. Her cape and part of her costume were shredded, and she felt intense pain in her hands, chest, and stomach. The dome began to collapse. The monster was on the floors below, pounding God knows what and bringing the entire complex down. In a last-ditch effort, Clara grabbed Luthor's surviving bodyguards and pulled them out of the failing complex at superspeed. There were several boats outside, and Clara ripped off the bent weapons she had used to tie them. Luthor was nowhere in sight.

"Get out of here, disappear, I never want to see you again."

 Oh my God, Louis!

She grabbed one of them.

"Where's the man you captured, a man with a mustache, what have you done with him?"

"He is on the top floor, in a cell in the northwest area."

Clara watched as the floor and buildings crumbled beneath her feet.

Louis, I must save him, for God's sake, he's here, Louis my love hang on!

From a hole in the ground the monster jumped several feet. It was now almost fifteen feet tall, and its humanoid form was almost unrecognizable.

Despite the pain and the fact that she might be bleeding internally, Superwoman flew towards it.

***

Some distance away, in a sleek motorboat heading for a freighter where he would set up his command post, Luthor looked through binoculars. The buildings on Meredith Island were collapsing as if in an earthquake. Suddenly, a swollen and deformed greenish-brown humanoid was ejected from the earth, and he could see the recognizable red-blue blur hurtling toward it, trying to push the creature into the ocean. The skyscrapers of Metropolis rose in the distance. Meredith Island was only fifteen miles from Central Park.

Luthor had everything ready. His company's small airfield with a plane and a good pilot to bomb Superwoman and the monster with the Pathogen. A freighter with an armed escort to observe the whole battle and make decisions on the ground... and a seaplane to escape from there at the right time. Poison capsules to take his own life if necessary. He only doubted the instructions he had given Mercy Graves, but it was probably his only way out. It was now or never. He would never have escaped to the USSR. If he had done nothing, he would not have been able to launch this attack on Superwoman, and sooner or later the government would have tracked him down and arrested him. Luthor had to do it. And he did it.

Maybe we'll get it...maybe we'll get it and we'll all be saved....