“LEX!”

Clark’s roar splits the silence, fury vibrating in every syllable. His fists clench, veins straining, cape snapping in the heated air. The farm boy is gone; this is a man stripped bare.

“You had no right to take him! Krypto isn’t a weapon—he’s family. If you’ve hurt him—”

Lex doesn’t flinch. He chuckles, smooth and sharp.

“Hurt him? Superman, please. The mutt is fine. But look at you. Trembling. Threatening. Proving me right—that beneath all the smiles and sermons, you’re just another alien who doesn’t understand what it means to lose.”

Clark’s jaw locks, eyes burning.

“You twist everything. You can’t stand that power could be used to protect instead of control. You’ll dress cruelty up as reason, but it’s just emptiness, Lex. You’ll never be enough.”

Lex’s smile spreads, and his gaze flicks to Isolde, standing beside him with fire curling lazily at her fingertips.

“Empty? I wouldn’t say that. After all, your dear teammate here filled quite a few gaps in my understanding of you. The League’s inner workings, your vulnerabilities, your fears… truly enlightening.”

Clark’s breath catches, confusion giving way to disbelief.

“What?”

Lex steps forward, voice dripping with satisfaction.

“Oh, you didn’t tell him?” He glances back at Isolde, almost amused. “Months of infiltration. Convincing the world’s greatest heroes she wanted redemption. How poetic.”

Clark’s voice drops to a whisper. “Isolde… tell me he’s lying.”

But she doesn’t speak. The flames at her hands flare brighter, reflecting in his eyes—the same eyes that once trusted her without question.

Lex’s smirk sharpens.

“She never believed in your crusade, Superman. She believed in mine.”

The room grows unbearably hot, the air rippling with heat and betrayal. Lex stays perfectly calm, eyes locked on Clark as realization breaks him.