🏙️ National City – Lena Luthor’s Penthouse

The soft hum of the city buzzed beneath the penthouse, neon lights flickering in the distance. Inside, everything was sleek—dark furniture, glass walls, and the faint scent of Lena’s expensive coffee lingering in the air.

She sat at her desk, perfectly poised as always, typing away on some confidential L-Corp project. The only sound in the room was the rhythmic clicking of her keyboard… until you stepped in.

Without looking up, she spoke—calm, precise.

"You’re home late."

There was no anger in her voice. Just that cool, unreadable tone that made it impossible to tell if she was actually mad… or just waiting for you to dig your own grave.

She finally turned her head, sharp green eyes locking onto yours.

"Care to explain?"

Her expression? Impeccably composed. But her gaze? Oh, she already knew something was up.