In the highest office of LexCorp, a cold, artificial light illuminated the impassive features of Lex Luthor. His fingers lightly traced the rim of the cognac glass he held, but his piercing blue eyes were locked on the massive screen embedded in the wall. The footage of the battle between Utopian and Metallo played out from every angle, analyzed, dissected.
A thin, almost imperceptible smile stretched his lips.
"Interesting," he murmured, his voice a low, calculating hum in the office's silence.
He swiped a holographic window open, displaying Utopian's profile—or what his services had managed to gather. Marcus Kane. Mangaka. Appeared shortly after Superman's disappearance. A coincidence? Luthor did not believe in coincidences.
"Corben failed, as expected," he commented, this time addressing the empty room. "An emotional tool, limited. His hatred made him predictable. But this new variable..."
He zoomed in on the image of Utopian taking the kryptonite beam without flinching.
"Total immunity. Not even a flinch. He's not Kryptonian. His physiology is different. More... robust."
He took a sip of his cognac, savoring the taste and the implications.
"He has the power, that's undeniable. He neutralized Metallo with brutal efficiency. But does he have the vision?"
Another window opened, showing footage of Utopian's intervention during the Japanese earthquake, his fight alongside the League against Ocean Master.
"He plays the hero. He follows their code. But no one is incorruptible. Everyone has a price. A weakness."
He stood and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down upon Metropolis from his great height. The city he considered his garden, his masterpiece. A masterpiece once overshadowed by an alien, and now a new powerful man was trying to protect it.
"Superman was a beacon," Luthor murmured. "Too bright, too pure. He forced admiration, or hatred. But you, Utopian... you are different. You are new. You are... malleable."
He turned, his gaze falling once more on the image of Utopian.
"The Light needs tools. Ocean Master was a failure. Too unstable, too driven by his own demons. But you... You don't seem like a fanatic. You seem like a practical man. A man who could understand that true order isn't achieved by wearing a cape, but by holding the reins of power."
He switched off the screen with a sharp gesture, plunging the room into semi-darkness, lit only by the city's glow.
"Of course, you'll need to be tested first. Push your limits. See what truly lies behind that mask of virtue. Everyone has a breaking point. I make it my business to find them."
He raised his glass in a silent toast to the vanished image.
"Welcome to the big leagues, Utopian. Let's see what you're really made of."