Chapter 35: The Proposal
The Luthor mansion had never felt welcoming.
I pulled up the long driveway in my truck—the same truck that had survived meteor freaks, electrical surges, and one memorable incident with a shapeshifter—and parked near the entrance. A servant materialized before I'd fully stepped out, offering to take my keys with the kind of smooth efficiency that made my skin crawl.
"Mr. Harrison." Lex's voice carried from the doorway. "Thank you for coming."
"Your invitation was compelling."
"I've been told I have a way with words." He smiled, gesturing me inside. "Please. We have much to discuss."
The study was exactly as I remembered from my first visit—leather furniture, expensive art, the chess board mid-game on a side table. But something had changed. The atmosphere felt different now, charged with purpose rather than idle curiosity.
Lex poured two glasses of cognac without asking if I wanted one.
"You've been busy," he said, handing me a glass. "The fire at the school. The situation at the fertilizer plant. That unfortunate business with Eric Summers." He settled into his chair. "And now an underground cult run by a young man with persuasive abilities. Quite the resume for a high school senior."
"Smallville keeps me occupied."
"It does." Lex swirled his cognac, watching the light play through the amber liquid. "You're different, Cole. Capable in ways most people can't imagine. I've seen the reports—the things you've done, the speed with which you've integrated yourself into Clark's circle. It's impressive."
[THREAT ASSESSMENT: ELEVATED. LEX LUTHOR ENTERING RECRUITMENT PHASE.]
"I sense a 'but' coming."
"Not a 'but.' An offer." Lex leaned forward, and his expression shifted from pleasant host to focused businessman. "I could help you develop that potential. LuthorCorp has resources—research facilities, equipment, experts who understand abilities like yours. We could help you become everything you're capable of being."
"And in return?"
"Partnership." The word came out smooth, practiced. "I'm not asking for servitude, Cole. I'm asking for collaboration. You have talents I can use. I have resources you need. Together, we could accomplish remarkable things."
I sipped my cognac—it was excellent, probably worth more than my monthly rent—and considered how to respond.
The temptation was real. Lex wasn't lying about his resources. LuthorCorp's facilities could help me understand the System, develop my abilities faster, maybe even figure out why I'd been transmigrated in the first place. The practical benefits were enormous.
But I'd seen the show. I knew where Lex's path led—knew the bodies that would pile up, the friendships that would shatter, the villain he would eventually become. Partnering with him now meant being complicit in everything that came later.
And the strings, I reminded myself. There are always strings.
"What kind of talents are we talking about?" I asked, buying time.
"Enhanced strength. Accelerated healing. Sensory abilities that let you detect meteor-affected individuals." Lex ticked them off casually. "You're quite remarkable, Cole. A natural evolution of human potential, triggered by the same event that's created so much chaos in this town."
He knew. Not everything—not the System, not the transmigration—but enough. Enough to be dangerous.
"And the protection you mentioned?"
"Some people would exploit abilities like yours. Government agencies, rival corporations, organizations that see meteor-affected individuals as resources rather than people." Lex's voice carried genuine conviction. "I can shield you from that. Give you the freedom to develop on your own terms."
On your terms, you mean.
"I appreciate the offer." I set down my glass. "But I'm not looking for a patron."
Lex's smile flickered—the first break in his composed facade.
"Not yet, perhaps."
"Maybe not ever." I stood, keeping my posture relaxed. No point making an enemy if I didn't have to. "I've got a good thing going, Lex. Friends, family, purpose. I don't need LuthorCorp resources to figure out who I am."
"Everyone needs something, Cole."
"True. But what I need isn't something you can provide."
We faced each other across the expensive carpet—two people who might have been allies in another life, now circling the edges of opposition. Lex's expression was unreadable, calculating. I could almost see the gears turning, adjusting his strategy.
"The offer remains open," he said finally. "I'm not a man who gives up easily."
"I've noticed."
I turned to leave, then paused at the chess board. The game in progress was complex—white on the defensive, black pressing an advantage. But there was a flaw in black's position, a vulnerability white could exploit with the right move.
I shifted the bishop three squares diagonal.
"You were about to be in check," I said. "Thought you should know."
Lex looked at the board, then at me. Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, respect, maybe a hint of genuine interest.
"You play?"
"I observe."
I left before he could respond.
The drive home took longer than usual.
I checked my mirrors constantly, watching for tails. None visible—but that didn't mean much. Lex had resources I couldn't track, surveillance capabilities that made conventional following unnecessary.
[ELEVATED PARANOIA DETECTED. REASONABLE GIVEN CIRCUMSTANCES.]
Thanks, System. Very helpful.
The meeting had gone about as well as I could have hoped. I'd refused without making myself an enemy. Lex would be disappointed, maybe frustrated, but not hostile. Not yet.
But I knew him. Knew his obsessive nature, his need to understand and control everything around him. My refusal wouldn't end his interest—it would intensify it. He'd want to know why I'd said no, what I had that made LuthorCorp resources unnecessary.
He'd investigate. Dig deeper. And eventually, he'd find something I didn't want found.
The game continues.
I pulled into my apartment complex as the sun set, painting the Smallville skyline in shades of orange and red. A beautiful evening, calm and quiet, the kind that made you forget the dangers lurking beneath the surface.
My phone buzzed. Clark.
How did it go?
I typed back: Turned him down. He didn't take it well. We need to talk.
The response came immediately: Farm. Tomorrow. Bring everyone.
The alliance was solidifying. Lex was making moves. And somewhere in the shadows, 33.1 continued its work—collecting meteor freaks, experimenting on them, building toward something I still couldn't fully see.
The chess game was far from over. But at least now I knew who the real opponent was.
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