Prologue

Lex looked up at the ceiling. Above him, he could hear Lance snoring in his room. He grunted at the thought. Lance had a nice bed. Lance was having a sound sleep and not a worry in the world. Lance had their father's love. Lionel Luther had been so desperate for an heir he could be proud of, he had gone out and found one, adopted a boy younger than Lex. At age nine, his father had already given up on him. He knew he would never be the favorite, or anything close. Lance had claimed that. He would inherit everything. He had everything. Lex had nothing. But someday, that would change. That bastard was going to pay.

"Good morning boys." Lionel Luthor said as his sons entered the dining room. Lex was disheveled as usual, the bald, imperfect son. The mistake. That was all Lex was. If he did not look so much like his dearly departed mother, Lionel would probably have disposed of him years ago. Lance, however, was a son to be proud of. He was a Luthor in every way…save one.

Lance was not a Luthor by blood, he was something entirely different. Lance was a god among men, and Lionel had the honor of being his guidepost and center, the one who raised him, the only one who knew how to control him. He had done quite a lot to gain that position, something's that would be considered immoral, but morality is relative, and Lionel knew that more often than not, the ends justified the means. This was a lesson he had tried to impart on his sons, and Lance seemed to grasp it thoroughly. Lex, however, was another story. The boy had no vision whatsoever, he was directionless. He acted before thinking things through, letting his emotions rule him, and then Lionel had to clean up his mess.

"Why exactly are we here?" Lex asked. He was getting right to the point. How annoying.

"We are having a meal often referred to as breakfast. Honestly Lex, I hardly thought you a barbarian, but grown men eat heartily in the morning. It is the most important meal, after all."

Lex winced at the way his father had spoken the word men. He knew what his father thought of him. Lionel had never attempted to hide it. After all, there was no need.

Lance came up behind Lex, clapping him hard on the shoulder. Lex winced. His brother seemed to grow stronger daily. Luthor's were hard workers, but the worked with their minds, not their bodies. Lance was no body builder, so where had all the muscle come from?

"What I believe my tactless brother meant to do was to inquire why we are all eating together this morning?"

"Well put," Lionel said, giving a smirking Lance a nod of approval. Lex glared at him. "I thought it only fit that the whole family be together for this discussion."

The two boys waited. He eyed each one patiently, waiting to say who would break first. He knew whom his money was on.

"Discussion of?" Ah, Lex. You never fail me, Lionel thought with a smirk.

"Patience, Lex, patience is an important trait. Luthor's are known for it, in fact." He untucked his napkin from his shirt collar and sat up straight, "Well, it has occurred to me recently that The Luthor's could benefit from a change of venue. The Luthor Ancestral Home has been sitting untouched for years now, almost a decade in fact. Your mother rather liked that house when we would visit. I think it's time some Luthor's moved in."

"I was under the impression that the Ancestral Home was in Scotland." Lex said. Lance chuckled quietly at his brother.

"No, I moved it to Smallville years ago. Lex, you knew that. No, Scotland is for the Scots; Luthor's are American, for better or for worse. And I intend for us to do something very American in moving to the most rural part of Kansas in existence, Smallville, Kansas. A Luthor needs to get his hands dirty every once in a while son, if only for the skill." Lionel lifted a drink to his lips. His sons did not move. "Well, you two best go back. We leave tomorrow."

"Rather short notice. We wouldn't be escaping the law, would we dad?"

"Lex, don't be absurd. I simply thought you had both learned the lessons in preparation for any and all circumstances that I have instilled upon you, and I was hoping you would prove me right."

Lex knew his father better than that. He was up to something. You never know a friend quite as well as you get to know an enemy, and while Lance had been playing the coveted role of favored son, Lex had been arming himself against a man who had made it clear that if Lex was ever to be anything other than a bug on his windshield, it would be because he had become a threat. Lionel did not believe Lex was smart enough to be his equal, let alone worthy adversary. But Lex knew that a time would come when his father would be begging him for something only he could give, something he needed as desperately as Lex needed his fathers love. And when that moment came, Lex would hold all the cards, have veto power so to speak; his father's fate would be solely in his hands. He had yet to decide if, when that moment came, he should show mercy.

Lance had not heard his father's request that they pack. He had stopped listening when Lionel had said 'Smallville.' He knew of Smallville. His father had told him that it was where he had come from, where he had been found all those years ago. And he knew that the answers to who or what he was, and why he was the way he was were there. His father had told him that one day, when he was old enough, they would return, and Lance would get the chance to explore his heritage, and to find all the answers he sought. And if he did find them, his father was of course to be informed, if he did not, it would be a shame upon him and his father, that he could not uncover the truth. He knew that that day had come.

The vague, fake explanation had been for Lex's benefit. Lex knew nothing of his origins. He believed that Lance had simply been adopted, which was technically true, but not in the traditional way. Lance had been found by Lionel Luthor in a cornfield in Smallville, Kansas, along with a recently crashed ship that he had traveled to earth in, and a language he had yet to understand. He did not remember anything of it. In fact, if his father had not kept to ship, he might never have known. Although, he had to admit, when his abilities, his superhuman strength, speed, and vision began to surface he surely would have suspected something. But now, now it was finally time. He would no longer have to suspect, he would know. Unless, of course, he could not find or figure out the answers. He shuttered to think how his father would react if he could not… he stopped the thought. Of course, he could. He could do anything. He was Lance Luthor. Lance was a god among men. This he knew. He had heard his father say it often enough. And Luthor, Luthor was a family that never failed. A Luthor could accomplish anything, and he was a Luthor. No, you are not. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered. He tried to ignore it. Adoption or not, he was a Luthor, especially when compared to his brother. Lex loathed him, he knew, and he liked it that way. It was better to be hated for what you have, then ignored for your insignificance. After all, that was what Lex was. He was insignificant, and he was ignored for it. He made pathetic attempts to get attention, partying and sleeping around and having it end up in the tabloids, and then there had been that whole club zero mess, but in the end, Lex would never have what Lance had. Lex would never truly be a Luthor.