One year later.
Metropolis — Belle Reve Psychiatric Hospital.
A line of patients in light blue hospital gowns shuffled forward for their daily medication. Among them, Lex Luthor looked worn and hollow‑eyed, his hospital gown hanging loosely on his thin frame. He approached the medication window and accepted the tray from the attending doctor — a cup of water and a small transparent box holding a single pill.
"Alright," the doctor said with indifferent precision, placing the tray in Lex's hands.
Lex hesitated, unsettled by her cold expression, but he swallowed the pill with the water just the same. The doctor watched him with a faint satisfaction, then called out the next name.
Lex made his way to the patient lounge, slumping into a seat and staring blankly at the easel set up before him. After a long moment, he picked up a brush, dipped it in oil paint, and began to brush color onto the stark white paper.
Half a year had passed since he was committed to Belle Reve. After being seized by Adrian for treatment aboard the Kryptonian ship, his consciousness had returned to normal — he no longer believed himself Kryptonian. But whatever the side effects had been, his mind was fragile. He had been found more than once on the manor's clock tower clutching a rolled blanket, insisting it was his baby brother Julian — long dead since infancy. On other days, he claimed Lionel had conspired with a businessman named Darian to murder their grandparents.
These episodes of delusion had been enough to send him here.
Lex coughed and spat a red pill into the crimson paint he was mixing. Then he looked up at the surveillance camera by the lounge ceiling.
Down the corridor, Clark Kent approached the lounge flanked by two hospital staff members. Patients turned their heads at his approach — so many of them "meteorite monsters" he and Adrian had brought in together.
"Look who it is, the freak!" Van snarled. Clark recognized him — the man had been committed after using his invisibility to hurt others.
Van lunged at Clark, rage in his eyes.
"You monster! You're the one who should be locked up here!"
Staff restrained him immediately. Two attendants punched Van and dragged him away, his curses echoing behind him. Clark watched with a solemn expression.
Eventually, they reached the lounge.
"Lex!"
Lex looked up at the familiar voice, his face lighting with desperate relief. He was thinner now, and more worn than Clark remembered.
"Clark!" Lex rose and grasped Clark's hand. "I thought I'd never see you again!"
Clark took his hand gently. "I wanted to visit last month, but the doctor said it wasn't the right time."
Lex nodded and offered a faint smile, his gaze locked on Clark without blinking.
Clark shifted uneasily. "Are you all right, Lex?"
Lex's expression changed in an instant. "I know all your secrets, Clark!"
Clark's eyes widened.
"But don't worry, I haven't told anyone."
Lex stepped closer, his voice quickening. "Clark, you must get me out of here! I'm cured now. I know who I am. I'm not an alien anymore. I won't hurt anyone. You can fix this. You're my friend — you have to help me. Don't let me waste away in this place!"
Lex's hands gripped Clark's face tightly, his words urgent and breathless.
"Clark, please…"
Clark tried to pull away, his voice strained. "Lex, I want to… but right now isn't the time. I'm sorry."
Lex froze, hurt flashing in his eyes. Then suddenly, like a wounded animal, he lunged at Clark with a roar.
"Ah!"
He reached for Clark's throat.
Staff rushed in to restrain him, but Lex thrashed violently, growling, his face wild.
"I will never forgive you, Clark! Never! Never!"
The easel toppled, paint spilling across the floor, and the lounge erupted into chaos. Clark backed away, helpless, listening to Lex's furious cries.
On the ground amid spilled paints lay Lex's latest work: an oil painting of a ruined city under a dark sky. In the center hovered a figure in a gray‑black uniform, holding a Batman mask in triumph. Beneath him lay a body with the familiar "S" symbol crushed among broken walls and debris.
Clark stared at the image, confusion knotting in his chest as he backed toward the door.
Lex's voice followed him down the corridor, shrill with accusations and promises of doom — warnings Clark couldn't dismiss lightly.
---
Outside the hospital, gray clouds hung over the sky as Clark made his way toward the Kent farm, burdened by troubling thoughts.
---
At Metropolis University, Adrian sat in a literature lecture hall. Now a member of the Literature Department, he hadn't chosen the field for passion — it was simply the least demanding way to fulfill his promise to Martha that he'd finish his education.
As the elderly professor discussed the history of American literature, Adrian's mind drifted elsewhere. It had been a year since Arthur, now Aquaman, had contacted him. Adrian didn't believe the silence meant the end — he had marked Mera with a unique magical trace that could be located anywhere, even in the depth of the ocean.
A flicker of something dark passed through his eyes.
As the class ended and students filed out, Rachel emerged from the back row and hurried toward him, excitement in her step.
"Brother, the fan club is planning an event," she said, her voice a mix of pride and nervousness. Now 1.4 meters tall, her growth had been astonishing over the year. "Can I go?"
"You've already decided," Adrian said with a sigh. "Why are you asking me?"
"I don't know if I'm ready," she admitted. "I'm still little — I've never been to a university event before."
Adrian packed his bag and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Start with simple social interactions — things suited to kids your age — not university activities."
Rachel pouted, then brightened.
"I don't have anything in common with kids! I want to keep studying Black Magic with Zatanna!"
She tilted her head up at him.
"Zatanna said she knew me even before I was born. Is that true?"
"Perhaps," Adrian said. He led her outside, offering a rare smile. Then his expression sharpened.
"And stay away from Constantine and his kind. They'll teach you tricks, but they have no bottom line."
Rachel frowned, confused, but her eyes wandered toward a Black Magic book Adrian kept tucked under his arm.
---
In the university lounge, a broadcast played on the television.
A U.S. senator stood in front of the Capitol, addressing a massive crowd. Signs read voices of outrage against metahumans: Earth is ours, not aliens', Metropolis Tragedy demands answers, Down with Homelander. Long live humanity!
Adrian's eyes grew cold as he watched the protest unfold. Rachel, sensitive to emotions connected to her brother, felt his tension and squeezed his hand.
---