Lex Luthor, softness was a word he had thrown out the window a long time ago. Tonight? Oh, tonight he wanted the whole world glued to their screens, watching him drag a devil through the mud.
Downtown Metropolis looked like a war movie came to life. Civilians scattered like bowling pins while LexCorp's private army locked down the plaza. Tanks, big trucks, all the toys. And there's Lex, standing on top of some oversized rig, arms folded, looking like he had just won the lottery and wanted everyone to know.
Cameras were everywhere. News choppers buzzed and drones hovered like angry cyber-bees. Lex had taken over every network—talk about showmanship.
This wasn't some half-baked trap. This was pure theater.
"Tonight," Lex's voice boomed from every speaker, "we fix a mistake. The Justice League dropped the ball, so I'll show you how to handle a rogue." He even had the nerve to grin for the cameras, all teeth.
"Come on out, Rex. Let's show the world what a devil on the loose really looks like."
High above, perched on a glass needle, Rex watched the scene unfold. Evelyn's voice crackled in his ear. "It's a trap."
He grinned. "Obviously."
"You're still going."
"Obviously."
She sighed, her worry mixed with static. "Try not to die."
"Wouldn't be me if I did, doc."
He stood up. Coat flapping, sword glinting, he stepped off the spire as if gravity meant nothing. He free-fell right into the chaos. The crowd gasped when he landed—boom, a crater formed in the street.
Lex didn't even blink. "Right on signal."
Rex rolled his shoulders, acting casual. "Didn't know it was party night. You should've sent a text."
Lex snapped his fingers.
Open fire the bullets. The militia opened fire. But Rex? He danced through it. Steel twisted, bullets pinged off, and armored punks folded like cheap lawn chairs. Holding rebellion in his hand, he was a hurricane in a trench coat.
But style wasn't the point. This was all about the message.
Lex raised a hand. The rig's doors slammed open. Out crawled Obsidian MK-II—a sleeker, nastier upgrade from that chain-flailing freak Rex had wrecked last week. This one hummed with kinetic energy, all sharp edges and muscle.
Rex spat. "You never learn the lesson, do you, Lex?"
Lex's grin widened. "It's not here to control you. It's here to break you."
The thing dashedv. Rex met it head-on, sword sparks flying. But this wasn't a repeat. This machine was thinking, adapting, reading his moves. Chains snapped out, wrapping around his wrist—another aimed for his throat.
He chopped the first, but the second tightened, squeezing the life out of him. His vision blurred at the edges.
WARNING: OXYGEN FLOW RESTRICTED.
But hey, he wasn't alone.
A golden lasso cracked through, slicing the chain clean. Diana dropped down, eyes blazing.
"You didn't think we'd leave you hanging, did you?"
Rex, voice raspy: "Glad you could make it, Princess."
And then—boom—the whole League showed up. Superman, Batman, Aquaman, Cyborg. The crowd went wild. Lex looked like someone had pissed in his coffee.
"This isn't your fight!" he snapped.
Batman shot back, "You made it ours when you put it on TV."
Obsidian MK-II went berserk. But now, Rex wasn't the only target.
The whole plaza turned into a demolition derby. Superman punched drones into next week. Aquaman speared a tank. Cyborg fried the comms. It's totally Mayhem now.
Rex? He kept one target in mind. He cut straight through the chaos, ignoring bullets, chains, and smoke—Lex was his only focus.
Lex tried to back away, but Boasting only gets you so far. Rex closed in, his voice like a loaded gun. "I gave you more and more chances, Lex. You never got the point."
Lex spat, "And what's that?"
Rex's fist shut him up—sent Lex flying across the rig.
"Don't. Touch. My. Chains."
He turned and stared directly into every camera lens.
"Every piece of shits gathered today right here and watching in that damn fucking TV listen ,I'm not your hero. Not your villain. But if you come for me or the people I care about, I will wreck your world and sent it to the hell"
Lex coughed, blood on his lips, as the League closed in.
Rex slid his sword away.
"The Show's over. Go home."