After the chaos of the press conference, Happy stood guard outside the Arc Reactor building, handling the stream of increasingly agitated calls from board members and shareholders. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across Stark Industries' campus as Obadiah Stane arrived on his Segway, cigar smoke trailing behind him.
"Mr. Stark in there?" Stane asked, gesturing with his cigar toward the building housing Howard Stark's original Arc Reactor.
Happy nodded, taking the Segway. "Been in there since the press conference."
Stane used his keycard to enter, finding Tony standing before the massive reactor - Howard's unrealized dream of clean energy. The enormous ring-shaped structure dominated the space, its soft blue glow a stark contrast to the harsh industrial lighting.
"The press conference went well," Stane's sarcasm filled the cavernous space.
"Did I just paint a target on my back?" Tony asked without turning.
"Your back?" Stane moved closer, smoke curling between them. "My back too. And what do you think the stock drop's going to be?"
"Optimistically? Forty points."
"At minimum," Stane growled. "Tony, we're a weapons manufacturer."
"Obie, I just don't want a body count to be our only legacy." Tony's voice carried the weight of his experiences in Afghanistan.
"That's what we do," Stane countered. "We're Iron Mongers. It's what we've always been."
"It's my name on the side of the building."
"And that name is what's keeping the world from falling into chaos."
"Not based on what I saw," Tony's voice hardened. "We're not doing a good enough job. We can do better. We're gonna do something else."
"What? Baby bottles?" Stane's derision echoed off the walls.
"I think we should take another look at Arc Reactor technology." Tony gestured to the massive structure surrounding them.
"The Arc Reactor was a publicity stunt!" Stane paced now, agitation clear in every movement. "We built that thing to shut the hippies up."
"It works," Tony insisted.
"Yeah, as a science project. Cost-effective? Never been." Stane paused, studying Tony carefully. "Arc Reactor technology, that's a dead end, right?"
"Maybe..." Tony's attempt at poker face was remarkably poor.
"Huh? Right? We haven't had a breakthrough in that in what? Thirty years?"
The tension broke as Tony called out Stane's probing. "Could you have a worse poker face? Just tell me, who told you?"
"Never mind who told me. Show me."
"Rhodey or Pepper?" Tony narrowed it down quickly. "Show me? It was Rhodey."
After checking they were truly alone, Tony unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the miniaturized Arc Reactor embedded in his chest. The blue glow illuminated Stane's face as he leaned in to examine it.
"It works," Tony said simply.
Stane's laugh echoed through the building. "Listen to me, Tony." He wrapped an arm around Tony's shoulders in a gesture that seemed both paternal and subtly threatening. "We're a team. Nothing we can't do together - no problem we can't solve. Just like me and your dad."
"You're gonna have to lay low for a while," Stane continued as they walked. "No more of this 'ready, fire, aim' business. You understand?"
"That was Dad's line," Tony noted quietly.
"You let me handle this. We're gonna have to play a whole different kind of ball now. Taking a lot of heat." Stane's grip tightened slightly. "Promise me that much."
Before Tony could respond, Happy appeared at the door. "Mr. Stark? General Lane and General Ross are here. They're insisting on meeting immediately."
Stane's expression shifted to careful neutrality. "Remember what I said, Tony. Let me handle this. The military contracts are our foundation."
"No," Tony replied, straightening his shirt. "They're our habit. And it's time to break it."
As they walked across the Stark Industries campus toward the main building, Tony's eyes lingered on the Arc Reactor facility behind them. The afternoon sun reflected off its massive windows, casting a familiar blue glow across the grounds.
The main building's conference room was on the top floor, offering a commanding view of the company grounds. When Tony entered, he found General Ross and General Lane already seated, their faces set in barely contained fury. Stane followed close behind, ready to play mediator.
"Gentlemen," Tony greeted them casually, settling into his chair. "I assume this is about my little announcement?"
"Little announcement?" Ross's face reddened. "You just declared your intention to violate billions in military contracts! At a time when we need your weapons more than ever."
"Need them for what exactly?" Tony asked, leaning forward. "To fight terrorists using our own technology against us? Or are you thinking bigger? Someone more... super?"
"This isn't a joke, Stark," Lane cut in sharply. "With Superman's emergence, the global balance of power is shifting. We need countermeasures, contingencies."
"And your solution is more weapons?" Tony's voice carried an edge of bitter amusement. "Because that's worked out so well so far."
"The military has protocols-" Lane began.
"The military has paperwork," Tony interrupted. "Forms and procedures that somehow still result in Stark tech being used against American soldiers. I saw it firsthand in Afghanistan - our most advanced weapons in terrorist hands. How exactly did that happen, General?"
Ross slammed his hand on the table. "That's a separate security issue-"
"No, it's THE issue," Tony's voice hardened. "We've lost control of our own technology. And now you want me to build even more destructive weapons? What happens when those end up in the wrong hands too?"
"Superman represents an unprecedented potential threat," Ross insisted. "We need advanced weapons systems capable of-"
"Of what?" Tony challenged. "Of hurting someone who's done nothing but help people? Who spends his time saving lives instead of taking them? Maybe we should be learning from his example instead of trying to figure out how to kill him."
"That's dangerously naive," Lane warned. "We need to be prepared-"
"For what?" Tony stood, pacing with nervous energy. "For someone using power to protect instead of destroy? For the possibility that there might be a better way than endless escalation?"
Stane tried to intervene. "What Tony means is-"
"What I mean is exactly what I said at the press conference," Tony cut him off. "Stark Industries is done making weapons. Period."
"You can't just-" Ross began.
"Actually, I can. It's my company, my technology, my choice." Tony's hand drifted unconsciously toward his chest where the arc reactor hummed. "I've seen what our weapons do up close. I've watched young Americans die from missiles with my name on them. No more."
"The board will have something to say about this," Ross threatened.
"The board works for me, not the other way around," Tony replied calmly. "And I'm choosing a different direction."
"A direction that leaves our troops vulnerable?" Lane demanded. "That leaves us defenseless against beings with godlike powers?"
"No," Tony's voice softened slightly. "A direction that actually protects people instead of just claiming to. Clean energy, medical technology, defensive systems - there are better ways to ensure security than just building bigger guns."
"You're putting lives at risk," Ross warned.
"I'm saving them," Tony countered. "You just can't see it yet."
"This isn't over, Stark," Lane stood, gathering his papers. "The Pentagon won't accept this."
"Then they can find another merchant of death," Tony replied. "Because that's not who I am anymore."
As the generals stormed out, Stane lingered. "Tony, they have a point about Superman. The world is changing-"
"Exactly," Tony agreed. "So maybe it's time we changed too. Maybe instead of trying to figure out how to kill someone who's helping people, we should be asking how we can help too."
"That's not how the world works," Stane argued. "Power needs to be checked, controlled-"
"Like we've controlled our weapons so well?" Tony asked quietly. "How many Stark missiles did I see in that cave, Obie? How many of our guns being used against the very people we claimed to be protecting?"
"That's different-"
"No, it's exactly the same," Tony insisted. "It's about responsibility. About what we do with the power we have. I'm choosing to use mine differently now."
Stane studied him for a long moment. "You really believe this, don't you?"
"I really do." Tony moved to the window, watching the sun set behind the arc reactor building. "Superman shows up, demonstrates what real power looks like when it's used to help people instead of hurt them? Maybe it's time we followed that example."
"The board won't understand," Stane warned.
"Then I'll make them understand," Tony replied. "Or I'll buy them out. Either way, Stark Industries is done making weapons."
As Stane left, Tony remained at the window, watching darkness fall over his father's creation. The arc reactor's glow seemed brighter somehow, more purposeful - like the one in his chest, like the future he could finally see clearly.
Back in Metropolis, Clark watched Lois put the finishing touches on their Stark story. The Planet's newsroom hummed with energy as reporters tracked the ongoing fallout from Tony's announcement.
"I still can't believe you got him to open up like that," Lois said, scanning their final draft. "Though after his press conference bombshell, our exclusive looks practically prophetic."
"Sometimes people just need someone to listen," Clark replied, adjusting his glasses. His desk phone rang - Perry, reminding them about their evening assignment.
"The society columnist picked a convenient time to catch a cold," Lois noted after he hung up. "LuthorCorp's biggest charity event of the year, and somehow we get stuck with it."
"You think there's more to it than charity?" Clark asked, though he already suspected the answer. Lionel Luthor had been unusually quiet since Superman's debut, and his promise to unveil something "that would change the balance of power" had set off alarm bells throughout Metropolis's journalistic community.
Later that evening, Clark waited in the Planet's lobby while Lois finished changing. When she emerged in a deep purple evening gown that caught the light like twilight on water, he momentarily forgot to maintain his slightly clumsy persona.
"You clean up nice, Smallville," she smiled, adjusting his bow tie. "Though I'm still suspicious about how you suddenly developed good taste in suits."
"I may have had some help," Clark admitted, thinking of his mother's insistence on proper formal wear. "Ready for another corporate circus?"
"With Lionel Luthor as ringmaster? This should be interesting." They stepped into the warm Metropolis evening, the city's lights just beginning to twinkle awake.
LuthorCorp Tower dominated the skyline, its modernist architecture a statement of power and innovation. The grand ballroom occupied the top three floors, offering panoramic views of the city. Clark's enhanced hearing picked up multiple security frequencies as they approached - whatever Lionel had planned, he'd spared no expense on protection.
Inside, Metropolis's elite mingled beneath crystal chandeliers. Clark recognized General Lane speaking with military contractors near the bar, while General Ross held court with a group of senators. The recent upheaval in the defense industry following Stark's announcement had clearly brought out the major players.
"Your father's here," Clark noted quietly to Lois.
"Of course he is," she muttered. "Probably hoping Luthor can replace his precious Stark weapons pipeline."
"Clark!" Lex's familiar voice cut through the crowd. He approached with the same confident stride Clark remembered from their college days, though his expensive suit had replaced the casual wear of their university debates. "And Ms. Lane. I see the Planet sent its top team tonight."
"When your father promises to change the balance of power, it gets attention," Lois replied. "Though I notice the invitation didn't specify how."
Lex smiled, handing them both champagne with practiced ease. "Now that would spoil the surprise." He turned to Clark. "Though speaking of surprises - I've been following your Superman coverage. Quite a departure from our old debates about journalistic objectivity, wouldn't you say?"
"Still trying to maintain objectivity, Lex," Clark replied, remembering countless late-night discussions in the campus library. "Even with extraordinary subjects."
"Extraordinary indeed." Lex studied his old friend over his champagne glass, the crystal catching the light. "You know what fascinates me, Clark? How comfortable Superman seems with you. Almost like he recognizes something in that farm boy sincerity we all found so charming at university."
"Maybe he just appreciates honest reporting," Lois interjected, her professional pride evident. "Something you used to value too, if I remember your guest lectures correctly. All those speeches about corporate transparency and journalistic integrity."
"I still value honesty, Ms. Lane. Perhaps more than ever." Lex's expression shifted to something more serious, though his smile remained perfectly practiced. "Especially now, when the world's changing so dramatically. Power taking new forms, new players emerging..." He focused on Clark with an intensity that made Clark adjust his glasses nervously… With genuine nerves, but these, unlike the ones Lois provoked were not pleasant in the slightest. "It makes those old debates about responsibility and control feel less theoretical, doesn't it?"
"Some things don't need control, Lex," Clark said quietly, remembering their late-night discussions in the university library. "Just understanding."
"Still the optimist." Lex's smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he studied Clark's face, as if trying to solve a puzzle he couldn't quite piece together. He glanced at the other news crews present - CNN setting up near the stage, FOX News trying to get close to the military brass, even a Daily Bugle reporter who'd flown in from New York. "Though I notice Superman seems to share your preference for the Daily Planet. Interesting how he's barely spoken to other outlets, yet manages to give your paper exclusive after exclusive."
"The Planet prints the truth," Lois stated firmly. "No agenda, no spin. When Clark writes about Superman, he focuses on the impact, the human element. Not just the powers or the politics."
"Truth is such a malleable concept these days," Lex mused. "Especially when dealing with beings who can bend steel with their bare hands." He turned back to Clark. "I've missed these conversations, old friend. We should catch up properly sometime. Compare notes on how our different paths have led us to this... interesting moment."
A subtle chime announced dinner was about to be served. As they moved toward the dining room, Clark noticed how meticulously planned the seating arrangements were. Key military figures were placed near the main stage - General Lane, General Ross, even a few Joint Chiefs he recognized from Washington. Tech industry leaders clustered nearby, with Obadiah Stane's empty chair a pointed reminder of Tony Stark's absence.
The meal itself was exactly what one would expect from a Luthor event. Each course arrived with theatrical timing - butter-poached lobster, wagyu beef so tender it melted on the tongue, chocolate soufflés that seemed to defy gravity. The wines alone probably cost more than Clark's monthly rent. But he barely tasted any of it, his attention focused on the conversations flowing around the room.
"It's not just about Superman," a defense contractor was saying between bites of lobster. "The whole game's changed. Enhanced individuals, genetic mutations, whatever's really going on at that school in Westchester..."
"And now Stark's gone off the deep end," his companion added, swirling an obscenely expensive burgundy. "Three months in a cave and suddenly he's shutting down weapons production? The timing couldn't be worse."
"LuthorCorp will pick up the slack," a third voice joined in. "I hear they've got something big in development. Military applications that'll make Stark's tech look like tinker toys."
Lois leaned close to Clark, her perfume momentarily distracting him from the other conversations. "Luthor's practically glowing," she whispered. "Look at him working the room. All those hints about 'human potential' and 'American innovation.' He's building up to something."
She was right. Lionel moved through the crowd like a master conductor, each conversation precisely calibrated. Here a word about defense contracts with a general, there a hint about breakthrough technology to an investor. The air practically crackled with anticipation.
"Your father's certainly pleased about something," Clark observed to Lex, who had remained unusually quiet through dinner.
"Father does enjoy his theatrical moments," Lex replied dryly. "Though perhaps tonight he has reason."
After dinner, the guests migrated to the main ballroom. The space was pure Luthor ostentation - soaring ceilings, crystal chandeliers, floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of nighttime Metropolis. The Daily Planet's globe spun steadily in the distance, its golden light a reminder of why they were really here.
"Ladies and gentlemen." Lionel's voice filled the space effortlessly, drawing all eyes to the stage. "For three months now, we have watched an extraordinary drama unfold in our skies. An alien being of incredible power, arriving unannounced to appoint himself humanity's protector."
He paused, letting that sink in. "Now, I don't doubt Superman's sincerity when he claims benevolent intentions. His actions thus far have certainly been... heroic." The slight pause before 'heroic' carried volumes of carefully crafted doubt. "But as businessmen, as soldiers, as Americans - we must think beyond today's headlines. We must ask ourselves: what happens tomorrow? What happens when this godlike being decides humanity needs more than protection? When he chooses to guide rather than guard?"
Clark felt Lois tense beside him, her reporter's instincts clearly detecting the story beneath the rhetoric. Lionel continued, his voice taking on an almost evangelical fervor:
"The great innovators of history understood that true security comes not from external saviors, but from human ingenuity. When confronted with threats from land, sea, or air, we didn't wait for divine intervention. We built tanks, battleships, fighter jets. We took our destiny in our own hands."
He gestured expansively. "Today we face a new frontier. Not merely supernatural power, but supernatural beings walking among us. And once again, humanity must rise to its own defense. Not through fear or hatred, but through the same American ingenuity that has always been our greatest strength."
Lionel's eyes swept the crowd, commanding complete attention. "LuthorCorp has long been at the forefront of defense technology. But tonight, we unveil something beyond mere weapons. Tonight, we present humanity's answer to the age of superman."
The lights dimmed dramatically, focusing on the stage. "Ladies and gentlemen," Lionel's voice carried the practiced authority of someone accustomed to commanding attention. "I give you the future of human protection. A man who gave everything defending his country, only to be reborn through American ingenuity. The true Man of Steel - Metallo!"
John Corbin emerged from behind the curtain, and Clark's throat tightened. This wasn't the bitter ex-soldier from Vegas. This Corbin moved with inhuman precision, every step calculated and fluid in a way that seemed both beautiful and wrong. His skin had a subtle metallic sheen under the spotlights, and the stylized 'M' on his chest - a clear mockery of Superman's 'S' - pulsed with sickly green energy that made Clark fight to maintain his composure.
"Staff Sergeant John Corbin," Lionel announced proudly, gesturing toward his creation. Beside him, Obadiah Stane stood with barely contained satisfaction, his usual cigar conspicuously absent in deference to the formal setting. "Three tours in Iraq. Bronze Star with Valor. Nearly killed by an IED while protecting his unit. A true American hero who embodies everything we stand for."
Cameras flashed as reporters surged forward. The Daily Bugle's representative practically shouted over his competitors: "Mr. Luthor! Is this LuthorCorp's answer to the Superman question?"
"This," Lionel's voice cut through the chaos with practiced ease, "is humanity's answer to a changing world." He nodded to Corbin. "Show them, John. Show them what American science - and American courage - can achieve."
Corbin's chest plate split open with mechanical precision, revealing a glowing green core that sent waves of nausea through Clark. The crowd gasped collectively. General Lane leaned forward in his seat, while General Ross whispered something to his aide about "acceptable parameters exceeded."
"This is our breakthrough," Lionel declared. "A mineral discovered in the aftermath of mysterious meteor showers that began in 1980 - the same year our alien visitor claims he arrived on Earth." He paused for effect. "We call it Kryptonite, after Superman's destroyed homeworld. A fitting name, as its unique radiation signature seems specifically attuned to Kryptonian biology."
The implications hit Clark like a physical blow. They hadn't just found the fragments that had followed his ship. They'd weaponized them.
"Through LuthorCorp's patented cybernetic enhancement process," Lionel continued, "developed in partnership with Stark Industries' pioneering research-" he nodded respectfully to Stane, who acknowledged the credit with a slight bow, "-we've integrated this remarkable mineral into a fully synthetic body. Strength comparable to Superman's. Durability beyond human limits. And at its core, powered by the very substance that could prove our only defense against a rogue Kryptonian."
CNN's reporter managed to push forward: "Mr. Stane! Does this represent a new direction for Stark Industries despite Mr. Stark's recent announcement?"
"Stark Industries has always been committed to protecting American interests," Stane replied smoothly. "While Tony's recent experiences have led him to... reconsider certain aspects of our business, our commitment to innovation remains unchanged. The technology underlying Project Metallo represents years of research - research that Tony himself helped pioneer."
Corbin closed his chest plate, the 'M' pulsing brighter. "I stand before you not as a god or alien," his voice carried military precision, "but as a soldier. My motto is simple: Strength through steel, justice through power, and American might for American protection."
The crowd erupted in applause, though Clark noticed some uneasy glances. Even among the military brass, reactions seemed mixed. General Ross looked like Christmas had come early, while General Lane's expression remained carefully neutral.
"While Superman hides his true identity," Lionel continued over the applause, "John Corbin stands before you openly. A true American hero, enhanced by American technology, ready to protect American interests."
Fox News had somehow maneuvered to the front: "Sergeant Corbin! Do you see yourself as a direct counter to Superman?"
"I see myself as what humanity needs," Corbin replied, his new voice carrying subtle mechanical undertones. "Someone who understands sacrifice, who's bled for this country. Superman may fly above us, but I stand with the people."
Clark watched General Lane shift uncomfortably at that. The General might have concerns about Superman, but he clearly had reservations about this alternative as well.
"The applications go beyond mere defense," Stane added, stepping forward. "The mineral core's unique properties, combined with our cybernetic innovations, open up possibilities in everything from space exploration to medical technology. This is about advancing human potential, not just protecting it."
As the formal presentation concluded, reporters swarmed the stage. Clark noticed how smoothly Lionel and Stane worked the crowd - Lionel emphasizing American ingenuity and independence, Stane focusing on technological implications and market opportunities. They were a practiced double act, each playing to their strengths.
Lois pulled Clark toward where Corbin was demonstrating his strength by casually bending a steel bar. Other reporters clustered around, shouting questions:
"What's it like, being more than human?"
"Can you feel pain?"
"Are you still... you know... human where it counts?"
"Corbin," Clark said quietly, but somehow his voice cut through the chaos. The cyborg turned, his movements unnaturally smooth.
"In the flesh," Corbin replied with a cold smile, clearly enjoying the dark irony. "So to speak. Kent and Lane - I wondered when the Planet's finest would come calling." His eyes fixed on Lois with an intensity that made Clark tense. "Still chasing dangerous stories, Ms. Lane?"
"Still asking uncomfortable questions," Lois replied evenly. "Like how exactly LuthorCorp and Stark Industries got their hands on enough of this 'Kryptonite' to power a cybernetic soldier."
"American resourcefulness," Stane interjected smoothly, appearing beside them. "Though I'm sure you understand some details must remain classified. National security and all that."
General Ross joined their group, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. "Remarkable work, absolutely remarkable. The precision of movement, the response times - this goes beyond anything we thought possible with current technology."
"The mineral core is the key," Lionel explained, materializing beside their small group. "It doesn't just power the mechanical systems - it enhances neural pathways, allowing a human consciousness to fully interface with a synthetic body."
"The integration is remarkable," Stane added, displaying readings on a sleek tablet. His usual cigar was absent, but his satisfaction was evident. "A living human mind controlling a completely cybernetic form. The only organic component is the brain itself, preserved and enhanced by the mineral's unique properties."
Clark fought to maintain his composure as another wave of nausea hit him. The way they spoke about the fragments of his dead world - using them to power this horrific transformation - made something deep inside him ache. Around them, reporters from the Bugle, WGBS, and other outlets pressed closer, mesmerized by the green glow pulsing from Corbin's chest.
"The applications go beyond military use," Lex interjected smoothly. "Think of it - a human consciousness freed from biological limitations. The next step in human evolution, powered by this extraordinary mineral."
"And the psychological impact?" General Lane stepped forward, his voice carrying careful neutrality. Lois tensed slightly at her father's presence. "Living without a human body, without normal sensory input - there must be complications." Clark noticed how the General's eyes kept searching Corbin's artificial face for traces of the soldier he'd once commanded.
"The neural interface-" one of LuthorCorp's scientists began, but Corbin cut him off.
"My brain's still human, sir," Corbin stated firmly, his synthetic features arranging themselves into a smile that wasn't quite natural. "The rest is just... upgraded hardware. Better. Stronger." His artificial eyes found Lois with an intensity that made Clark instinctively move closer to her. "Strong enough to protect what really matters."
"The consciousness transfer was perfect," Stane declared proudly. "The mineral core doesn't just power his mechanical systems - it actually enhances neural function, accelerates thought processes-"
"What about sensory feedback?" Lois cut in, her voice carrying that sharp edge Clark recognized from their toughest investigations. "You've essentially removed every natural human sensation. How does that affect your mental state?"
"My mind is sharper than ever, Lane," Corbin snapped, a flicker of something dangerous crossing his artificial face. The green glow in his chest pulsed brighter. "So what if I can't feel things the old way? Power is its own sensation."
Lois didn't back down. "Really? Because you seem different from the soldier I interviewed in Vegas. More aggressive. Less... human."
"And you seem awfully protective of your alien celebrity," Corbin retorted, synthetic muscles twitching beneath artificial skin. "Tell me, does Superman know his favorite reporter's got a human bodyguard now?"
"Even Superman?" Anderson from the Bugle called out, eager to stoke the tension. "How does it feel knowing your brain is the only human part left, and even that's powered by something from his dead world?"
The question hit something raw. Corbin's mechanical body tensed visibly, servos whirring beneath the surface. The green glow from his chest intensified, casting harsh shadows across his synthetic features as his artificial face twisted into something between a smile and a snarl.
"You want a real demonstration?" His voice had changed, the metallic undertone more pronounced now. Something was shifting in his demeanor - the careful military precision giving way to barely contained rage. He moved toward the podium with inhuman grace, each motion too perfect, too calculated. "Watch this."
The metal screamed as he crushed it, expensive mahogany splintering like matchsticks. But it wasn't just a display of strength anymore - there was a violent eagerness to his movements that hadn't been there before, as if the very act of destruction was feeding something inside him.
"John," Lionel's voice carried a warning note, though Clark noticed Stane watching with poorly concealed satisfaction. "Perhaps we should move on to the technical specifications-"
"Technical specifications?" Corbin barked a laugh that sounded almost metallic. "That's not what they want to see." He turned to face the crowd fully, the 'M' on his chest pulsing brighter with each word. "They want to know if I can really stand up to the alien. The one flying around in his circus tights, playing at being humanity's guardian angel."
The room went completely silent. Even the most seasoned reporters seemed to hold their breath as Corbin continued, his voice dripping with contempt:
"Where is he anyway? Too busy posing for photos and rescuing kittens to face a real threat?" Corbin crushed the remains of the podium into an even smaller ball, letting it drop with a heavy thud. "Or maybe he's afraid to face someone who can actually hurt him. Someone who bleeds red, white, and blue instead of whatever color they bleed on his dead rock."
"Sergeant Corbin," General Lane started, but Corbin cut him off.
"No sir, with respect, this needs to be said." The green glow in his chest intensified as he spoke. "I'm a soldier. I've fought and bled for this country while this alien plays dress-up in a cape. He wants to protect humanity? Let's see how he handles someone who actually knows what protection costs."
Clark felt the waves of nausea intensify with each pulse of the Kryptonite core, but he kept his expression neutral even as Lois whispered, "This is getting out of hand."
"So here's my challenge, Superman!" Corbin's voice boomed through the ballroom. "If you're really Earth's protector, if you're more than just some alien freak in tights, come face me. Man of Steel against Man of Steel. Let's see who really deserves that title."