Lex Luthor lay broken on the floor, barely conscious, his once-great intellect clouded by pain. His fingers trembled as he tried to push himself up, but his body refused to obey. Superman stood over him, not as a savior, not as a tyrant—but as something beyond both.
As judgment itself.
Superman knelt down, his golden eyes locked onto Luthor's battered form. There was no anger, no hatred. Only cold, unshakable truth.
"You know, Luthor…" Superman's voice was quiet, but it cut deeper than any wound. "You were the one who made me like this."
Luthor's breath hitched.
Superman's gaze burned into him. "Filled with rage. With sorrow. You took my parents from me. And that?" He placed a hand on Luthor's chest, just above his shattered ribs. "That was the running force."
Luthor shook his head weakly, but Superman continued.
"That was the Corque in the machine."
Luthor's bloodied lips curled into a weak, bitter smile. "And yet… after all these years… you're still talking to me."
Superman's expression didn't change. "Not for much longer."
Before Luthor could react, Superman's hand tightened around his collar. In an instant, he was lifted off the ground, his broken body dangling like a ragdoll. Superman turned, walking toward the massive glass window that overlooked the city.
The same city that had once feared and admired Lex Luthor.
Superman didn't stop.
With effortless strength, he hurled Luthor forward.
The glass shattered into a thousand shards as Luthor was thrown from his own tower, plummeting toward the streets below. His mind barely had time to process what was happening before he crashed into the pavement with a sickening thud.
But the fall didn't kill him.
It wasn't meant to.
Groaning, Luthor tried to move, but then he felt them. The weight of countless eyes on him.
He turned his head—only to see the faces of those he had wronged.
Men and women, parents and children, all of them staring at him with expressions of pure, unfiltered rage.
The families of the people he had manipulated. The children of those who had suffered under his rule. The victims of his greed, his experiments, his unchecked ambition.
Superman landed softly a few feet away, watching in silence.
Luthor's breathing became ragged as the mob closed in.
"Wait—"
A hand grabbed his arm, twisting it painfully. Another hand struck his face, then another, then another.
His screams echoed through the streets as they dragged him into the crowd.
Superman turned away. He had seen enough.
Justice had been served.