Broken Legacy
Chapter 4: Deep Wounds and Deeper Scars
Themyscira
It had been a long time since this much tension and uncertainty befell the Amazons. The order that once bound them in sisterhood had shattered – quite literally, in some respects. Their beloved queen, Hippolyta, was no more. Her secret affair with Zeus and the illicit conception of her daughter had been revealed. This had incurred a swift, merciless judgment by the gods. Now, Diana was queen, but few had confidence in her ability to rule.
Aleka watched this chaos unfold from the beginning. From the moment Hippolyta revealed her secret to the moment Hera cursed her, she saw the foundation of the Amazons crumble before her eyes. Their sisterhood remained intact. Life still continued on Themyscira, as was necessary amidst such chaos. But the future of the Amazons had never been more uncertain.
"What do you thinks she's going to do? Would she really have us live among men?"
"She'll betray our traditions. She'll defy the gods if she has to. I know it!"
"Even if the men stay isolated, how will we bear children? What will become of the Amazons?"
These were just some of the sentiments that Aleka heard on a daily basis. She couldn't walk down the market or train in the gymnasium without hearing her sisters' distress. They all knew change was coming. They all knew Diana's feelings towards certain Amazon traditions. Her youth, inexperience, and naivety had instilled radical views about man's world and Themyscira's place in it. Many felt she was not ready to be queen, but she was still the rightful heir. Like it or not, she would decide the Amazons' fate moving forward.
"How much longer will it be? When do you think Diana will make her first decree?" wondered Dessa, one of Aleka's closest friends.
"I've given up trying to answer that question. I hate even asking it," said Aleka.
"I'm sorry to upset you, dear sister. I can't stop wondering…and worrying."
"You and every other sister on Themyscira. That's why we're out here picking fruit. We're trying to distance ourselves from difficult questions that are out of our hands."
"I know," sighed Dessa, "and believe me, I want to take my mind off such complicated affairs. I just…can't stop myself from contemplating the days ahead of us."
Aleka shook her head. The silence she enjoyed after leaving the markets around the place didn't last long. She didn't usually volunteer to pick fruit from the orchards, but she made an exception in hopes of clearing her mind. She thought bringing Dessa along would help. During times of hardship, being around a sister helped give Amazons that extra strength. This time, however, it was more a hindrance than a strength.
Aleka didn't respond to her sister's lament. Instead, she focused on picking the large tropical fruit from a tree in Themyscira's main orchard and stuffing it in a basket. It was a simple, laborious task. It occupied the mind and body from other, greater toils. It just didn't occupy Dessa enough.
"The Amazons have known only one life for so long. Does Diana really seek to change it?" wondered Dessa, who was just staring at the fruit rather than picking it.
"That's up to her. She's queen now," said Aleka, not hiding her bitterness. "She'll do what she feels is right."
"Even if it's considered wrong by every tradition that came before it?"
"She's always been her own woman. She just loves to set herself apart from her sisters and not always in the best of ways."
"You think she might offend those traditions just to spite us?" added Dessa. "We didn't exactly endear ourselves to her by calling her clay for all those years."
"I wouldn't put it past her, but Diana's not that kind of woman. She's not petty or crude…even when she ought to be at times," said Aleka after setting down her basket of fruit.
"I want to believe that. I really do. I just don't think she understands why these traditions matter. They're in place for a reason. They've sustained us for centuries. Her leaving Themyscira to explore man's world might have been taboo, but it wasn't an affront. Does she really expect us to embrace that world as she has? Even if they are an affront in the highest order?"
Dessa had given up trying to distract herself. She couldn't focus on fruit enough to calm her troubled mind. She gazed back towards the road that led to the central market. It was difficult to contemplate the changes facing the Amazons, but there was no way around it. Diana was queen and her decree was law. What else could any Amazon do?
Aleka's lack of a response indicated that she had done a better job of distracting herself. Sensing she was getting annoyed, she set down her half-full basket of fruit and sighed.
"I'm sorry to annoy you, dear sister. I don't mean to make this harder on us both," said Dessa.
"Be quiet, Dessa," she heard Aleka say.
"I will. I promise. I just want you to know that…"
Then, much to Dessa's surprise, Aleka cut her off.
"Shhh! I said be quiet!" she barked in a hushed tone. "Someone's here – someone who shouldn't be."
Almost immediately, a lifetime of warrior training overshadowed any further lamenting. Aleka had already drawn her sword, which every Amazon kept close by, even when picking fruit. Dessa did the same upon seeing that she had already taken a battle stance. Now gripping her sword, she scanned the nearby area for potential threats. Anything or anyone that dared show up on Themyscira unannounced was a threat to take seriously.
"Show yourself!" demanded Aleka. "Face us or be hunted! Your meat will taste better than any fruit!"
These were not empty threats. Aleka never made a threat she couldn't keep. She carefully scanned the nearby area while Dessa remained close. A sharp gust blew through the trees and bushes. The air grew tense and damp like the foul breath of a titan. Amazons had a keen sense of the battlefield, especially when it happened to be their home.
Dessa saw that Aleka's vision had already narrowed on a particular area near one of the fruit trees. Standing ready to strike at a moment's notice, she stood by her sister.
"What is it?" asked Dessa under her breath. "A man? A beast? A god?"
"No," said Aleka in a menacing tone. "It's something else…and it's close!"
She didn't wait for Dessa to sense what she sensed. She decided to dispense with further threads and act. With reflexes that Hermes would envy, she attacked a nearby shroud of bushes – chopping away the branches and vines with ease. In doing so, she revealed a male figure hiding behind it. Without hesitation, she pointed the tip of her sword right at his neck.
"There you are!" said Aleka menacingly.
"Impressive," said the figure. "Most impressive!"
"Your next words had best be wiser, male trespasser," she threatened, "because I'm ready to end you where you stand!"
The male figure remained silent, which most likely saved his life – or at least extended it. Upon seeing this figure, Dessa immediately positioned herself at another angle to ensure this trespasser had no means of escape. Anyone who dared set foot on Themyscira had to be dealt with harshly. Anyone who dared sneak up on an Amazon couldn't be some mere mortal either.
Now in an attack stance, Dessa got her first close look at this mysterious male trespasser. While any male presence on Themyscira was distressing, this one appeared more distressing than most.
"This male – he looks different than the others we've seen," Dessa commented.
"He still carries a male stench. That's all I need to know!" said Aleka, now pressing the tip of her sword right against his neck.
"Then I'll be extra careful with my words," the man said. "My name is Tyr-El. I am a man, but I'm different from the men you know and not just because of my disheveled appearance."
"White skin, an uneven complexion, and a scarred disposition," scoffed Aleka, "if you are a man, then you've done a pitiful job maintaining yourself."
"I don't deny that. This complexion you see is a result of hardship and loss," said Tyr-El, gesturing towards his face. "You don't need to know the details. You just need to know that, like you, I am a warrior. And also like you, I am in a difficult predicament."
"And you thought sneaking onto our sacred lands would improve your predicament? That's not very wise," said Aleka, pressing her sword against him even harder.
"I apologize. It was the only way I could get your attention and confirm that the Amazons are the skilled warriors I've been told. Having been conditioned in every stealth tactic this side of the galaxy, the mere fact you detected my presence is sufficient confirmation."
Aleka was still within her right as an Amazon to slit this man's throat where he stood. However, his words and his demeanor intrigued her. Even Dessa couldn't help but be curious. He claimed to be a warrior. His utter lack of fear in the face of a sword was proof of that.
Beyond having the poise of a warrior, there was something else about his demeanor – something that went beyond being a warrior. He did have the stench of a man, but he also carried himself as one who had shed plenty of blood. Any Amazon could smell it on his breath. It gave Dessa and Aleka plenty of reasons not to listen to another word he said. Had Themyscira not been in a state of upheaval, then this man would've since drawn his last breath. Their curiosity, along with all the lingering uncertainties surrounding the Amazons, kept them from slaying this trespasser where he stood.
"What do you know of the Amazons' predicament? What business is it of a man to know any Amazon affairs?" asked Dessa, remaining vigilant.
"We are both in the same business, madam – war, combat, and conquest," said Tyr-El.
"The Amazons fight wars. The Amazons know combat. We are not conquerors," said Aleka. "We leave that kind of barbarism to brutish men."
"What you see as conquest, I see as something else," he replied. "Along with these traits we share, I also see opportunity. I am one man whose army has long since been lost. You Amazons are warriors whose legacy has been plunged into chaos. How I know this shouldn't concern you. Just know that I offer a solution that will aid us both."
"You expect us to trust a man with our legacy?" scoffed Aleka.
"Of course not," said Tyr-El. "I merely ask, from one warrior to another, for the opportunity to show that I can. Because from what I understand, the alternatives do not sit well with those who value that legacy."
With every word he said, their reservations about this man grew. This Tyr-El did not convey an aura of honor or compassion. In fact, he conveyed the exact opposite. He came off as a man who could bathe in the blood of his enemies and do so with glee.
Even with these reservations, his words struck a chord. Aleka and Dessa exchanged looks. The might reek of dishonor, but he knew of the Amazons' plight. How he knew was distressing enough, but the possibility that he might have a solution intrigued them. Any solution that deviated from Diana's known sentiments would intrigue any Amazon. With so much uncertainty, they were all desperate for a way to preserve their traditions and their legacy. So long as they held hold a sword against this man's throat, what was the harm in hearing him out?
"You have less than five minutes to convince me of this opportunity you speak of," said Aleka. "After that, I'm slitting your throat."
"If I cannot convince you in five minutes, I deserve far worse," said Tyr-El with a humored grin. "I'll make this quick and simple. There are powerful forces working against us and with your help, I intend to defeat them in the most effective way possible."
Fortress of Solitude – Medical Wing
"His vitals are improving. The treatment, along with the concentrated solar array, is accelerating Kal-El's healing. You do not have to stay, Miss Diana. I assure you Kal-El will be fully healed."
Diana hugged her shoulders and shook her head at the overly polite tone of the robot android monitoring Clark's vitals. It was one of several that rushed to Clark's aid the moment she carried him into the Fortress of Solitude. They began treating his injuries before she could even explain what happened. She then followed them to the medical wing of the fortress where more robot androids joined to treat him.
They claimed they could take care of him. They even claimed his injuries weren't the worst that Superman had endured and she believed them. However, she didn't believe for a second that they understood the extent of his pain.
"I'd rather stay," Diana told the android.
"Very well," replied the android. "You are among the few authorized guests Kal-El has sanctioned. Please make yourself comfortable. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to inquire."
Diana grinned awkwardly at the android before it went back to treating Clark. She wasn't used to dealing with robot assistants. She knew Superman utilized them to maintain his Fortress. It made sense, given the size of this place. But they were more tool than companion, which must make this place feel pretty lonely at times. Perhaps that was the point.
She glanced over towards Clark, who was still conscious while the androids treated him. They laid him out on this special gurney surrounded by an elaborate lamp array that emitted sun-like light. It made sense. Superman drew his powers from sunlight and a concentrated dose helped heal the physical scars. However, it was the emotional scars that worried Diana.
While Clark healed, she briefly stepped out from the medical wing and into the foyer. From here, she could see other parts of the vast fortress, including the central area where Clark had stored some of the larger relics from his world. Chief among them were two large statues depicting his biological parents, Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van. These statues were prominent among all other relics, showing how much Clark treasured them and his family. That only made what he endured hurt even more.
Diana didn't know much about Clark's parents or home world. He only told her and the rest of the Justice League so much about his personal life. Even though he was an icon among men, he was an intensely private person. He did share a little more with her than he did most. He might even share more with Batman, but that might be because he just figured things out more than most.
She had always respected his privacy, as had the rest of the League. But now that his heritage and identity had been shaken, she worried that he would struggle to deal with it on his own.
"Such a large and beautiful place – this Fortress of Solitude," she said to herself. "I understand its purpose, but I'm not sure you understand its effects, Kal. It's one thing to value privacy, but do you really value solitude that much?"
The possible answers to such a question worried her. As she gazed at the statues of Superman's biological parents, Diana imagined he would see them differently from now on. She had already gone through a similar process when she learned about her mother's sordid secrets. She might have kept those secrets out of love, but it didn't make them any less painful.
This didn't just involve Kal's parents though. This involved his entire heritage – the same heritage he shared with such pride not so long ago. There was so much beauty to that heritage, as evidenced by this very fortress. Now, it had been tainted, just like hers had. Having struggled to deal with it herself, she worried how Clark would cope.
"It is a cruel irony. I embraced that solitude after I found out about my mother," she said. "I lamented how no one understood my plight. Now, you might understand it better than anyone, Kal. And I wish to the deepest pits of Hades that you didn't."
Diana directed her words towards the statues. They might as well have been the embodiment of her and Kal's plight. They both loved and cherished their heritage with all their heart. Then, a painful revelation came along to taint it. Feeling alone in dealing with such pain was hard enough. But seeing someone she cared for struggle with that same pain – that was much harder.
With a twinge of anger, Diana turned around and re-entered the medical wing. By now, the androids had initiated the bulk of the treatments. They removed the top part of Superman's costume, ensuring his skin exposed more solar radiation. They attached sensors to his torso, arms and head so his vitals could be monitored on a nearby computer. There were still plenty of bruises and welts all over his skin, but those wounds didn't worry Diana nearly as much as the ones the androids weren't treating.
"Is he stable yet?" asked Diana.
"I can confirm he is stable, Miss Diana. Kal-El will make a full recovery," said one of the androids.
"Good. Can I speak with him?"
"Yes. You most certainly may," said the android politely.
The androids continued working, monitoring Superman's state. Diana rolled her eyes. These androids might have been advanced and polite, but they weren't bit on subtlety.
"I'd like to speak to him alone," she clarified.
"I apologize, Miss Diana. But while Kal-El's treatments are working, additional monitoring is necessary. Please, speak freely if you wish. We are programmed to respect Kal-El's privacy. If it would make you more comfortable, we could…"
But the android didn't get a chance to respond. Clark, who was still conscious, interrupted.
"It's okay. I'll be fine," he said, hiding his discomfort.
"Kal-El, I would strongly advise against…" began the android before being interrupted again.
"Override," said Clark flatly. "Leave us. She saved my life. I owe her."
Every android in the area stopped what they were doing. They remained reluctant to leave, having been programed to value Kal-El's well-being above all else. Never-the-less, they abided by his wishes.
"Understood," said one of the androids. "Please call if you require any further assistance."
In short order, every android left the room. When the last one exited, the door closed behind it, leaving Diana alone with the wounded Clark. He remained on the special gurney, still under the array of lights beaming solar energy into his wounded body. While some of those wounds were already healing, he was still in a great deal of pain.
Diana could see the extent of that pain. He showed more than he realized, reflecting the tragedy that had struck him both literally and figuratively. Having seen much of that pain in herself, she chose not to say anything at first. She just walked up to his side and offered him a caring gesture.
"Whatever it is you need to tell me, Diana – tell me," he said in a solemn tone, "and tell me fast because I don't intend to lay here much longer."
"You've taken punches from Darkseid and gotten right back up, Kal. I wasn't going to encourage you to rest," said Diana.
"I appreciate that…I think," he replied, "and I already told you. Don't call me Kal anymore."
"Why not? It is your name," she pointed out. "Your parents gave it to you. It's not something you can just reject."
"I can. I did it for most of my life. My parents – the parents that raised me – named me Clark. That other name – it's just another relic that should've stayed buried."
"You don't mean that, Kal," said Diana in a more caring tone.
"Of course I don't!" exclaimed Clark in a sudden outburst. "Maybe not entirely, but – what am I supposed to do with it? You're the only one who even calls me that anyways, although I'm not sure why."
"I have my reasons."
"Well you have more reasons to forget it now! Because that name comes from a legacy built on lies and atrocities! Did they really think it would stay buried forever?"
"You'd be surprised what some parents think," said Diana. "They love their children so much. They'll embrace whatever foolish thoughts they must."
"They – my birth parents – barely knew me," said Clark, his words becoming more bitter.
"But they still loved you," she said strongly. "They loved you enough to save your life at the cost of their own. Their actions speak louder than any thoughts they may have had."
"I know. I know. It's just…"
Clark's words trailed off. He ended up turning away from Diana. Just he act of moving his head made him wince, the pain from his wounds still lingering. But he still felt her powerful gaze on him. It had a much an effect that superseded any wound.
"I don't claim to know what your birth parents were thinking, but I do know a thing or two about family secrets and tainted legacies," said Diana.
"That's right. You know more than most actually," said Clark. "Now I feel like a jerk for forgetting."
"That doesn't make you a jerk. It just shows how upset you are. Believe me, you tend to forget a lot of things when you're angry at yourself, your family, and your entire identity. You're lucky if your name is the only thing you want to throw out."
Clark didn't respond, but he continued to look away – hiding the pain and anger that was still so raw. Diana let him process those feelings, but hoped he wouldn't embrace them. Having struggled with similar feelings, she could only be there for him as any friend could.
Diana had no intention of letting him suffer in solitude, even if it was the primary function of this fortress. She pulled up a nearby chair and sat down next to him. She even placed her hand atop his, conveying as much compassion as he would accept.
"I don't know much about this man – this Tyr-El, as he calls himself," said Diana, "but I do know he's committed horrendous atrocities. And he's capable of committing much more."
"That's not much more than I know, right now," said Clark. "Do I want to know how Batman did it? I'd actually welcome the change in topic, if that's what you're trying to do."
"That's not what I'm doing and it's not like Batman would share those details anyways," she replied. "I just know that Tyr-El's arrival was detected by both the military and the Watchtower. And for whatever reason, General Lane did a poor job of covering up this atrocity."
"He's not one to skimp on his duties – not unless it serves his agenda."
"Well whatever it might be, Tyr-El is progressing much faster. Batman called me when he thought we'd have to confront someone of Superman-level strength – his words, not mine."
"I'm sure he has plans and backup plans for that," said Superman dryly.
"But just after I arrived at the Watchtower, he picked up on two fast-moving signatures – near your Fortress," she added, "and since Flash wasn't in town, I figured it wasn't friendly. That's why I left immediately."
"You really thought I would need help?"
"I thought you would need a friend."
Diana gave his hand a light squeeze, letting him know that her concern went beyond that of a teammate. He acknowledged the gesture, squeezing back to silently thank her for her sentiment. He still wouldn't turn to face her, but he didn't have to. It wasn't necessary in the presence of a friend.
"I'm not telling you this to change the subject. I don't even know if you care how I came to your aid before Tyr-El could kill you," said Diana.
"The thought did cross my mind," Clark admitted.
"What I do know is that personal battles have a way of leaving deep scars – far deeper than any physical scars," she continued. "I'm still fighting those battles. Many of those scars are still fresh. I don't know that I'm qualified to help you, but…"
She stopped when she felt Clark squeeze her hand again. He then finally turned to face her, finally letting her see the conflict in his gaze.
"You are," he told her. "In fact, you're the only one qualified to understand what I'm going through right now."
"Understanding still isn't the same as helping," Diana pointed out.
"It's still better than nothing," said Clark, "and I do appreciate it…more than I can put into words right now."
The sincerity in his tone momentarily overshadowed the pain and outrage. Her presence and her sentiment had an effect on him – one that seemed to escalate the more she consoled him. In her, he saw many of the same inner conflict. He had seen it before, but he couldn't begin to understand it. Now he understood it more than he ever wished.
Diana offered a weak yet meaningful smile, which helped console him even more. She knew that understanding was difficult to come by. Being an Amazon/demigod was every bit as isolating as being the sole survivor of an entire race. Even if he couldn't put into words its impact, she could still appreciate its power.
"Is it still wrong for me to wish I didn't understand? Or that at least one of us didn't have our lives upended?" she said with a half-grin.
"Not at all," assured Clark, managing a slight grin as well. "It's too late now."
"And I wish I had more to offer. Really, I do," said Diana with a sigh. "Those battles I mentioned – they're not something you can fight with sword. The tainted legacy of my sisters – the secrets surrounding your family – they're carved into the past. We can yell at them, hate them, and be ashamed all we want. We cannot escape it. You want to make the future better, but the atrocities of the past just loom over you like a shadow."
"Is this advice or a warning?" asked Clark. "Because it's not filling me with much hope."
"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to vent," said Diana sheepishly. "These are things I'm still struggling with too. I'm at as much a loss as you are, Kal – I mean Clark."
"It's okay. You can call me Kal if you want. You can keep venting if you want. If we're both going to struggle with this, at least we can struggle together."
Diana almost laughed at such a notion, sharing such a personal struggles. Amazons were supposed to be fiercely independent, relying on others only for the heat of battle. She considered herself more independent than most of her sisters, but for once she didn't mind sharing the struggle. In fact, it felt kind of nice.
A strange silence fell between them. Diana's hand remained within his, still conveying what comfort she could. However, she began conveying more than just comfort. Clark clearly picked up on it. The way he was looking at her – the way he accepted her compassion – it added even more emotional upheaval to this dire situation.
Diana soon found herself moving closer to her wounded friend. Understanding and compassion aside, the scars were still fresh. Emotions were still raw. There were still battles to fight, but for the first time since she learned of her true heritage, it felt as though she didn't have to fight alone. This feeling, and the emotions that came with it, created an unexpected tension in the air.
However, that tension shattered when the door to the infirmary opened and one Superman's androids entered.
"I apologize for interrupting, Kal-El," it said, "but something has come up."
"Um…no need to apologize," said Clark, almost relieved that something broke the tension. "What is it?"
"An emergency message has come in from Batman. He says it's urgent."
"Of course he would interrupt at a time like this," said Diana under her breath.
"How urgent?" asked Clark.
"We're still assessing that as we speak, but our preliminary conclusions indicate that this matter is quite dire."
"How do you figure?" asked Clark anxiously.
The android paused for a moment. These androids didn't usually hesitate when it came to informing Superman of an issue. Either they were struggling to process this situation or it was far worse than anything they could calculate.
"Well, we've based these conclusions by factoring in a rather distressing revelation that Batman just shared with us," said the android.
Clark groaned, his wounds festering even more. Diana groaned as well, already having a bad feeling about this.
"We've already had plenty of distressing revelations today. How much worse could this be?" said Clark dryly.
"That depends. Do you consider Lex Luthor hacking the Fortress of Solitude to be significantly worse?"
Lexcorp Military Hospital
Lex Luthor arrived at the military base bearing his name on an unprecedented winning streak. When this day began, he was under house arrest in his own lab while authorities from several countries raided his offices, hoping to find any excuse to arrest him. Now, those same authorities had ceased their meddling. Some even requested his assistance. It was remarkable how exposing an alien fraud raised the value of his genius.
His private helicopter landed at the base less than an hour after his conversation with General Lane ended. As soon as he stepped out, General Lane greeted him with a contingent of military police and marines.
"Thank you for getting here so quickly, Mr. Luthor," said General Lane as they shook hands.
"I'd have gotten here sooner, but I decided to put on a new suit," said Lex, now proudly wearing some of his imported business attire. "Now that I'm back in business, I might as well dress the part."
"This isn't about business, Lex. This is a matter of national security," said the General strongly. "I know you love to turn profits during a crisis. While part of me wants to punch you in the jaw for that, the more rational part of me is willing to foot the bill."
"For a threat like this, is any price too high?"
"Guess we'll find out soon enough."
Lex sneered at the General, who remained as stoic as always. He had to know on some level that Lex was going to exploit this situation for his own gain. However, he also had to know that genius like his came at a price. Even the United States Military's vast resources paled in comparison to his brilliance, especially for a threat like this.
With a sense of urgency growing throughout the base, General Lane led Lex into the facility. The march towards Lex Luthor's next triumph was already in motion. With military police guarding surrounding them, they breezed past security checkpoints and into the belly of the facility that bore Lex Luthor's name. When he was finished, this place would be another shrine to his genius.
"I already briefed the President on the situation," said the General, his tone now strictly tactical as they passed through a checkpoint. "He's canceled every trip for the rest of the week, raised the alert level in every major city, and cashed in a few favors with our allies overseas. He's funneling every possible resource into finding this renegade Kryptonian before he commits another atrocity."
"I take it you showed him pictures of Major Lee," said Lex.
"That was Waller's idea. Not mine," said General Lane, making it clear that he didn't approve of such methods. "Never-the-less, it had the desired effect. It showed what we're up against and what we're risking every moment that alien is on the loose."
"And Superman refuses to help us in any way other than his own," added Lex. "I hope you made that just as clear."
"Rest assured, we're working under the assumption that Superman can't be trusted to deal with this."
"And it took them this long to realize that?" scoffed Lex.
"But this isn't about Superman. This is about containing the situation. It's already causing a public panic after that leak to the Daily Planet. You wouldn't know anything about that. Would you, Lex?"
"Honestly General, would it matter if I did? Given your growing desperation, can you really afford to be petty?"
General Lane scowled Lex, who just shot him a telling half-grin. It confirmed what he suspected, but there was nothing he could do about it and Lex knew that. The General – and the entire United States government, for that matter – needed his genius. He saw in the older man's eyes just how much he wanted to deck him where he stood. The General managed to restrain himself, knowing they had much bigger problems on their hands.
These problems needed to be exposed for all to see. Lex understood this better than anyone in any government. General Lane was a military man. He liked taking care of situations quietly and burying them so that the public never had to know about it. While that made sense from a strictly tactical point of view, it failed at much larger mission.
The General saw this crisis only in the context of stopping a threat to his country. Lex Luthor saw a much bigger picture. This was his chance to expose the fraud of Superman to every man, woman, and child. His humiliation could not be covert. It had to be exposed for all to see.
"We can worry about damage control and PR later. Right now, we must proceed," said Lex, walking out ahead of the General as they entered the medical wing.
"I take it that means you've come up with a plan?" said General Lane.
"Oh please," he scoffed. "I formulated at least nine on the helicopter ride. The one with the highest chance of success involves some important data I collected on Superman's once-storied bloodline. You don't need to know how I got the data. You just need to provide me with that sample you obtained from Major Lee."
General Lane gestured towards one of the female officers escorting them into the facility. She obediently nodded and retrieved a small container from her pocket. It was unmarked, undocumented, and unauthorized. And despite his many misgivings towards Lex Luthor, he gave it to him.
"The doctors extracted this sample with a rape kit," he said. "For the record, I despise any plan that involves exploiting my soldiers."
"But you want a plan that succeeds, don't you?" quipped Lex to the General's chagrin. "That's what I have. That's what you want – what the people want. We need to defeat this alien threat, but we need to do it on our terms. We cannot keep relying on an otherworldly savior to protect us."
"On this, we agree," conceded the General, "but don't confuse our terms with yours. If we end up having to rely on you instead of Superman, I don't consider that an improvement."
"On that, we may disagree," said Luthor. "Unlike Superman, I am human. My interests, my goals, my dreams – they're all in line with humanity as a whole. I do not need god-like powers to save the world. I just need my superior intellect and the resources to realize it."
Clutching the container, Lex Luthor grinned as every conceivable detail of his plan played out in his mind. Every calculation, every move, every conceivable situation – he had accounted for it all this time. Superman's downfall and Lex Luthor's ascension was all but guaranteed.
After making it through the final security door, Lex led General Lane into a restricted area of the hospital that only a few could access. He had similar areas built into every facility bearing his name. They were lined with lead and armed with extra security. This one in particular had the advanced medical equipment he needed to implement the next part of his plan.
A number of scientists and technicians – all of which he cleared personally – had been working feverishly for the past hour to set everything up. They all shared General Lane's sense of urgency. Lex even made sure they saw footage of the alien's atrocity against Major Lee and her unit. It seemed to motivate them better than any threat or bonus.
Thanks to this motivated effort, the array of equipment and hardware was coming together. At the centerpiece of it all was his mighty warsuit. Forged from technology stolen from Apokalipse, he once tried to best Superman in this suit. He failed. This time, it had a much greater purpose than matching an alien's strength.
"Ah my favorite invention," said Lex Luthor with a grin. "I hope the government didn't scratch it when they confiscated it."
"We didn't. And we couldn't," said the General. "Compared to getting Interpol off your back, getting this thing out of lockdown was, by far, your most unreasonable request."
"It'll pay off in a big way. I assure you," said Lex with the utmost confidence.
"I hope that involves more than just punching this alien into submission. We saw how this thing fared against Superman. You'll need it to do much more against this Tyr-El."
"Not to worry, General. That's exactly what the sample you just gave me will ensure," said Lex as he approached his beloved warsuit.
"Do I want to know how? Or is that going to involve even more unreasonable requests?"
"Believe it or not, it'll get much easier from here on out. With this suit and the data contained in the sample, no Kryptonian will dare threaten the human race again."
As work around the warsuit continued, Lex put the sample back into his pocket. It would stay there until the right moment. Naturally, he had to keep some details to himself. He doubted that General Lane would either approve or understand of his methods. Inferior minds rarely did. Such methods were bound to get messy, but a superior mind could handle it.
It wouldn't be much longer now. General Lane, the United States government, and the entire human race wanted results. Every second that passed was another second that Tyr-El and Superman remained on the loose. So long as they were free, the potential for more atrocities would remain. That meant Lex Luthor's plan couldn't unfold fast enough.
"I can take it from here, General," said Lex. "The only task you need concern yourself with is the complete evacuation of this facility."
"Evacuate?" said the General in confusion. "You want us to abandon a fully-operational military facility? Just so you have room to work?"
"No General – so you and these fine soldiers are out of harm's way," he said, appealing to the General's military sensibilities. "You have men and women here who are not equipped to deal with an alien menace like this – including wounded personnel, like Major Lee. For their safety, and your own, get them out of this facility and to a secure location."
It was probably the most reasonable request Lex Luthor had made to this point. General Lane certainly wasn't going to argue with it. Too many soldiers had already suffered at the hands of Tyr-El. He wouldn't tolerate one more victim. Lex definitely knew this and was likely exploiting it, as he always did.
He still refused to trust Lex Luthor more than he had to. But if he wanted to prove that he was as superior as he claimed, then he was willing to give him a chance. Setting aside any remaining misgivings, General Lane turned back towards his officers and signaled them to start clearing out.
"We'll be out of the building within four hours. I'll make sure of it," said General Lane.
"Better make it three," said Luthor. "When Kryptonians are involved, things tend to get volatile quickly. And not everyone has the stomach for it."
Dailey Planet – Outside Restrooms
"Um…Lois? Are you done in there yet?" asked Jimmy Olsen as he anxiously knocked on the door to the women's restroom. "Cat's five minutes away from calling an ambulance."
At first, there was no response. Then, he heard it again.
"Huuaaaggghhhhhh!"
He immediately cringed, the sounds of Lois throwing up once again filling the restroom. It had already been cleared out. Lois made it a point to kick everyone out as soon as she stumbled in. That's nearly fifteen minutes later, she was still vomiting – sounding sicker than she had ever been before.
Jimmy did his best to keep his own stomach in check. He sat next to the door with his back against the wall, doing his best to process everything that was happening. This day started off so promising. Superman unveiled the first ever exhibit on Krypton at the Metropolis Museum. It opened to all sorts of fanfare. He and Lois had been there to see it. Then, it all took a very dark turn when Lois got a tip from Lex Luthor of all people.
"Hnn…don't remember eating that," groaned Lois from the bathroom.
"And you mocked me for skipping lunch," said Jimmy under his breath.
"I heard that!" barked Lois. "And if you think you're going to hold this over me, you…"
She abruptly paused. Before she got another word out, another round of vomiting took over.
"Huuaaaggghhhhhh!"
"Duly noted, Lois," said Jimmy.
It was more disturbing with every labored heave. Lois Lane was one of the toughest human beings Jimmy knew. She had seen war zones, invading alien armies, and a hung over Perry White. It took a lot to make her sick, but this kind of distress was uncharted territory for all of them.
Even while hiding out in the hallway, Jimmy could hear the chaos that had consumed the offices of the Daily Planet. As soon as Lois told Perry about the files she got from Luthor, a shouting match erupted within his office. An impromptu meeting followed where everyone learned of this terrible story that shattered what was supposed to be historic for all the right reasons. Now it was still historic, but in the worst possible way.
The graphic photos of those maimed soldiers remained vivid in Jimmy's mind. He had seen horrific photos before. He had never seen anything like this. But it was the name of that Kryptonian – Tyr-El, as Lex's info identified him – that really made those images sickening. This wasn't just another renegade beast from Apokalipse. The world could handle that sort of thing now. But this creature was directly related to Superman – a distant grandfather if the information was accurate. That very idea – the thought that someone from Superman's own family could commit such atrocities – was much harder to handle.
Jimmy didn't want to believe it at first. Like everyone else at the Daily Planet, he had learned not to trust anything that came from Lex Luthor. But when that information came along with photos, classified military reports, and data hacked directly from Superman's Fortress of Solitude, it was hard to just shrug off. As of now, Perry White and the rest of the office was operating under the assumption that it was mostly valid. They weren't the only ones either. The story was starting to leak into other mediums, trending on the internet and breaking into news feeds that had been praising Superman's museum exhibit just a few hours ago.
"Grandson of an alien monster – his very name linked to atrocities no human can fathom," said Jimmy, who had been reading some of the news feeds on his phone. "How could they do this to him? After everything Superman has done, how can they turn on him like this? He didn't do anything. His ancestors did!"
He said those same words earlier in the meeting with Perry. He actually agreed with him. But they couldn't ignore these ties. This distant grandfather of his, Tyr-El, wasn't some obscure reference in a history book. This monster was actually here on Earth. He had already demonstrated the depths of his cruelty when he assaulted those soldiers. Superman never mentioned him, let alone warned anybody about him. Now, they were all vulnerable.
While Jimmy believed whole-heartedly that Superman didn't know about Tyr-El, the rest of the general public was less willing to make such assumptions. As the news spread, people began twisting the truth in their own way.
"A lie? A fraud? An alien conspiracy to turn us all into cattle?" groaned Jimmy as he saw some of the headlines. "How can people say this crap about Superman?"
It made him sick to his stomach. He could only imagine how sick Lois felt. The heaving had died down, but he could still hear her groaning in the bathroom. She had been the one to receive the data. She ended up being the one who reported it. She single-handedly shattered Superman's legacy in the eyes of the public. Having such personal ties to Superman, it was hard to stomach.
"Jimmy…is anyone else out there? Is Perry hiding behind the door?" said a very sickly Lois from inside the restroom.
"No. It's just me. Think you scared everyone off," replied Jimmy.
"Good. I don't have the stomach for more of their crap right now…literally."
She finally flushed the toilet. Jimmy then heard the sink run for a bit. He figured she wanted to fix herself up so that she didn't look as sick as she felt. But when the door to the restroom opened and Lois came stammering out, he questioned the extent of her efforts.
She looked awful on a level Jimmy had never seen. Her lipstick and makeup were smeared beyond repair. Her hair was frizzy and messy. Her blouse was wrinkled and stained with something that he didn't want to identify. This was not the poised, confident Lois Lane that once stared down a parademon. This was a woman who took a gut check to the heart.
"Did Cat call that ambulance?" said Lois, still leaning on the walls for support.
"No. Should I tell her we're in the clear?" asked Jimmy.
"Give me another five minutes just in case. For all I know, I threw up some organs in there."
Jimmy cringed at the thought, but kept Cat on standby none-the-less. Now disheveled and beleaguered, Lois sat down next to Jimmy on the floor. She kept her back against the wall, the rest of her body refusing to support her. She held her head low, distraught and overwhelmed by what had just transpired.
He chose not to say anything. He put away his phone, having read enough terrible headlines for one day. He briefly thought about consoling Lois. Then, he remembered that she didn't like to be consoled. She liked to let the cold, hard truth hit her in full force.
"Be honest with me, Jimmy," said Lois distantly. "Did I just destroy Superman? Did I just succeed where Lex Luthor failed?"
"Lois, you're talking about a guy who took a punch from Darkseid and beat back Brainiac. He's not going to fall because of a news flash," said Jimmy.
"I'm not talking about Superman the man. I'm talking about Superman the hero," said Lois. "The man can survive damn near anything, but he's always strived to be more than a man – a true Superman. From the first day he showed up to the first time he humiliated Lex Luthor, he's tried to help people – to be this shining ideal for everyone to look up to."
"He still is. If not, he still can be."
"That's just it. I think I might have ruined it for him," she said solemnly. "On the same day he decides to finally share his legacy with us, I help announce that this legacy has a blind spot."
"A blind spot he might not have known about," retorted Jimmy. "You don't really think he would keep a secret like Tyr-El from us, do you?"
"Of course not! He's Superman. He doesn't keep those kinds of secrets – especially not from me," said Lois, getting more upset with every word. "It doesn't matter if he knew. The story is starting to tell itself. Superman isn't that shining ideal we wanted him to be. He's the great-great-grandson of some Kryptonian version of Freddy Kruger."
"And I thought we, as a society, stopped condemning people for the sins of their ancestors," scoffed Jimmy.
"It would be one thing if this guy was just some footnote in the past, but he isn't. He's here now. And no matter what Superman does, people are going to link him and Tyr-El. They look at one and see the other. It's not fair. It's not just. It's not right. But that's how it's going to play out."
It was jaded, cynical assumption, but Jimmy couldn't argue with it. The headlines he saw on his phone proved it. The context and extent of the truth didn't matter. People read the details of this atrocity. They saw the connection between Superman and Tyr-El. They then filled in the blanks on their own. It was tragic because it twisted the truth, undermining everything Superman stood for. It made him feel ashamed to be human.
He still couldn't feel nearly as bad as Lois right now. Looking over at her, he saw an anger in her gaze that her disheveled form did little to hide. She was angry at Lex Luthor, Superman, and Tyr-El. But most of all, she was angry at herself.
"I could've done something," she said distantly. "I could've sat on it for a while – looked into a bit deeper, just to make sure I wasn't playing into Lex's hands. I could've even cashed more favors with Perry – gotten him to delay the story until someone could actually talk to Superman."
"But you didn't," said Jimmy, "and everybody understands why you didn't."
"Yeah, yeah – my goddamn journalistic integrity," she said dryly. "I pursue the truth and nothing more, trusting it to stand on its own. God, now that I think about it, it really does sound naïve."
"That doesn't make it any less right."
"I know, damn it! Superman would probably say the same thing. He wouldn't even hold it against me, which actually makes me feel worse!"
Her stomach started churning again. She groaned as another wave of nausea came over her. This time, Jimmy did console her. She still hated being consoled, but she didn't reject it either.
"You shouldn't apologize for telling the truth, Lois. That's the first lesson you taught me," said Jimmy, "and the second lesson Superman taught me."
"I'm not apologizing. I doubt Superman would accept it either," said Lois with another sigh, "but I can't be the one that destroys everyone's faith in him. He's not going to stop being Superman. We can't stop supporting him, no matter how much people twist the truth."
"I'm with you Lois. Really, I am," said Jimmy, "but how do we even do that at this point? Between your father, Tyr-El, and Lex Luthor, where would we even begin?"
These were the questions that plagued him and Lois. These were the questions nobody was asking in wake of the chaos surrounding Tyr-El. Lois closed her eyes and rested her head back up against the wall. She hated the idea of going back into her office where everyone was scrambling to make sense of this story.
Everyone was lamenting, afraid of Tyr-El and what he meant for Superman's legacy. Fear often bred uncertainty and as a result, the truth became an afterthought. They had to be better. They owed it to Superman to find the answers. Even if the world couldn't have its living ideal, it still needed its greatest hero.
As Lois contemplated these questions, another feeling came over her. This time, it didn't involve the kind that made her want to vomit. Despite looking and feeling terrible, she picked herself up from the floor.
"I don't know what we can do, Jimmy. It might already be too late," said Lois, "but I do know where we can start."
"You do?" said Jimmy with the first glimmer of hope all afternoon.
"Yes," she affirmed, "and the first part involves you telling Perry I'm heading out into the field. If possible, convince him to hold off on any follow-up stories until he hears from me."
"The first part I can do, but the second part…"
Lois didn't let him finish.
"Jimmy…do it for, Superman."
Jimmy groaned and shook his head. She just had to play that card at a time like this. It annoyed the hell out of him, but he didn't dare refuse. Rising up from the floor as well, he was prepared to trust Lois. For Superman's sake, he hoped she knew what she was doing.
"I won't make any promises I can't keep, but Perry does owe us both a few favors," said Jimmy.
"Cash in as many as you need. There has to be another story here. I just need to find it," said Lois as she began walking towards the elevator.
"And where do you think you'll find it?" asked Jimmy.
"Same way it found us," said Lois, "with my father."
Fortress of Solitude
Diana didn't expect Clark to stay bedridden for long. Even though every one of his robot androids advised him to rest, he got back on his feet as soon as he was strong enough to stand. The revelation that Lex Luthor hacked the Fortress of Solitude proved to be a potent painkiller. The pain of his tainted legacy took a back seat to the anger he now felt towards Lex.
But by the time he dragged himself to the central core of his fortress, the damage had spread. News feeds from all over the world came streaming in, manifesting in holographic displays that were projected all throughout the atrium. The atrocities of Tyr-El and the secrets of Superman's legacy didn't stay hidden for long. These horrific revelations were now global news.
"We have a breaking development in the renegade Kryptonian story. Moments ago, officials from the Metropolis Metropolitan Museum have announced that the facility will be closed until further notice. This comes less than an hour after protests erupted outside the museum. These protests come in response to stunning revelations about Superman's Kryptonian heritage. The revelations have already gone viral."
This particular news broadcast came along with footage of the riots outside the museum. Earlier that day, people gathered in peace to praise Superman's contribution and welcome his culture. Now, an entire different group of people were throwing trash, rocks, and anything they could carry at the locked doors of the museum.
"Superman is a fraud! He brought this monster to our world!"
"Get out! Go home! Take your shit and get off our planet!"
"You're no hero! You're a liar! You LIED to us all!"
There was a lot of hate in these words. However, there was also a great deal of fear. Diana could sense it in their collective voices. They heard about the atrocities committed by this monster. They were afraid for themselves, their families, and their world as a whole. They had all seen Superman's feats of strength and power. The idea that someone just as strong as him could commit such atrocities was truly terrifying.
Whether by fear or hatred, Diana couldn't blame them entirely for their sentiment. It struck her because these atrocities reminded her of those her sisters were guilty of. She couldn't help but wonder if these same people would be protesting her if they knew the truth about her legacy. However, the truth about Superman's legacy posed a more immediate threat and numerous news outlets help spread the fear.
"A wealth of data, allegedly hacked from the very exhibit Superman so proudly displayed earlier today, has made its rounds through every corner of the internet," reported a news anchor from another global network. "This same hack also revealed the horrific incident involving the rogue Kryptonian, Tyr-El. While a spokesperson from the United States Military stated that this hack was illegal, they have none-the-less confirmed that this creature is still at large. The Dailey Planet, who initially broke the story, has also confirmed that Tyr-El is indeed related to Superman. But as for Superman himself, he has yet to make a statement. This leaves many to wonder – what else does he have to hide?"
Diana sneered at such insinuations. After everything Superman had done for the world, the very people he protected turned on him so quickly. Even if it was purely out of fear, it still disgusted her to no end.
She ended up punching the source of the feed that dared ask this question, breaking the crystal projecting it in the process. There were still dozens more projecting this filth. She would've shattered them all if they weren't capable of repairing themselves. She preferred to save her energy for a more tangible enemy.
"Misguided fools!" she said grimly. "Are people really that short-sighted? Have they already forgotten all the times you've saved this world?"
Clark, who hadn't been paying much attention to the news, remained hunched over the main archive console near the core of his fortress. He was still shirtless and covered in bruises, having to lean on the crystalline console for support. He had already become numb to such a reaction.
"Don't condemn them outright, Diana. They're right to be angry," said Clark. "I'd be more concerned if they weren't."
"How can you say that?" exclaimed Diana. "They're using this one atrocity that you were not responsible to reject Superman. How is that fair? How is that just? These people are just so…"
"Petty? Unreasonable? Irrational?" said Clark before she could complete her thought. "A renegade alien with my power and unparalleled bloodlust is on the loose. They have no way to protect themselves against Tyr-El – no way of knowing his agenda. So why wouldn't they feel this way?"
"I still think you're too understanding, Kal."
He remained fixated on the console in front of him, but he still heard every detail from the news reports. This was a man who could hear a spider spinning its web from a mile away. There's no way he could completely ignore it. If it did bother him, he did a good job of hiding it.
"There's nothing I can do about it, Diana," he said distantly. "It's human nature. But that nature, it seems, isn't just restricted to humans. See for yourself."
Having had enough of the news, Diana joined Clark near the console. She was still fuming, but resisted the urge to shatter more crystals. She could tell this was tearing Clark up – his whole legacy being shattered by this one, terrifying revelation. Now that legacy had shattered in a very public way, but that still wasn't what hurt most.
At the console, Diana saw Clark using various hand gestures to manipulate the largest, most precious crystal in his fortress. This crystal, as she understood it, contained the bulk of the data on Krypton's history, culture, and heritage. It also contained the data on the House of El. At the moment, Clark had singled out this data. What he saw seemed to add to his anguish.
It came in another series of holograms that were projected directly from the crystal. Some contained images of Kryptonian cities and various depictions of Kal-El's family. Diana couldn't read Kryptonian, but she did notice one particular area of coded static in the middle. This had been the data that Clark had focused on since he got up and it upset him more than any news report.
"Watch this," he said. "Computer, tell me about Tyr-El."
The crystal flashed briefly, giving off its distinct yellow hue, before it responded.
"Access denied."
"Computer, this is Kal-El…son of Jor-El. Under my authority, I order you…tell me about Tyr-El!"
"Access denied," the computer repeated.
"Denied under whose authority?" he asked, showing more frustration.
The computer flashed again, this time more erratically. It actually struggled to process this inquiry, which was something Kryptonian technology was not supposed to do.
"Unable to respond appropriately. Please try again."
Clark then turned towards Diana, letting her see the frustration in his eyes. He looked every bit as inclined as her to punch the crystal. It confirmed what he had already surmised. His own family had kept secrets from him. Having been frustrated by family secrets herself, Diana could understand his sentiment more than most.
"Now watch this," Clark continued. "Computer, override denial. Access log entry protocols KL19-82760."
This time, the crystal didn't need nearly as much time to process.
"Access granted," said the computer.
"That was…convenient," commented Diana. "How did you know those protocols would work?"
"Because they're the same ones Lex Luthor used to hack the Fortress' systems," said Clark grimly.
It sent a chill down her spine, along with a twinge of anger. The idea that Lex Luthor had hacked the Fortress of Solitude seemed outrageous, yet terrifying. Diana could only imagine the kind of damage he could do with such information. However, she doubted that Clark had to imagine.
"How did he…" began Diana, only to have Clark turn back to the console.
"I don't know. I think he used the crystals on display at the museum as some sort of quantum hub," he said. "I screened those crystals thoroughly, but I guess Lex still found a way. He always does. He's smart like that."
"So why haven't you thrown him into the nearest active volcano?" asked Diana with folded arms.
"Because it doesn't matter how he did it…or even why he did it," he replied. "For once, he exposed an injustice rather than creating one. He's not the one hid this secret shame of the House of El. My father did that…just as my grandfather before him…and my great grandfather before that. They all tried to bury Tyr-El in the deepest, darkest parts of Krypton's history. But as you and I both know, the truth has a way of digging itself out."
It was strange that Clark did not show more animosity towards Lex Luthor. Then again, they were all so used to him committing such egregious acts. The idea that he merely exposed the truth rather than obscure it seemed strange, but it didn't change the end result.
Instead, Clark directed his outrage solely towards the image before him after access had been granted. The static hologram that had been buried in the countless sea of data stored within the crystals began to form new images. These images soon overshadowed all the others and Tyr-El's ominous image was at the center of it all.
"The truth, in this case, is far bloodier than anything Lex Luthor could ever conjure," said Clark distantly. "Tyr-El represents one of the darkest eras in Krypton's history. The fact that I'm related to him just makes it sting a lot more."
"Every culture goes through brutal eras. I'm still trying to draw mine out of one," Diana pointed out. "We can't let ourselves be defined by them."
"But we can't – and shouldn't – ignore the horrors that came with it," he said solemnly. "According to this data cluster, Tyr-El was born in the thick of this brutality. Back then, my family was known as the Clan of El. We were just one of many families on Krypton trying to stake our claim on a power vacuum that emerged after the last Kryptonian monarch was deposed. Our clan tried harder than most because by the time he was seven, he had already killed…a lot."
Another series of holograms played out. These holograms ran movie-like scenes that depicted the violence and chaos of that era. Countless Kryptonians, no different than Tyr-El, stormed the fields of Krypton's alien landscape, slaughtering one another with unmitigated brutality. Diana had seen plenty of brutal conflicts as an Amazon. This tested even her stomach for war.
"But Tyr-El wasn't just a brute. In fact, he was extremely intelligent and cunning…making him far more dangerous," Clark continued. "He learned early on that when your clan is so brutal that your enemies would rather not fight, you have an advantage. And he exploited that advantage to the utmost – even refining it to a science of sorts."
The holograms depicted more graphic battle scenes, but this time the battle was more lopsided. Images of Tyr-El and soldiers slaughtering innocents, raping women, and razing homes filled the Fortress. Such brutality made Diana sick in a ways few things could. She could only imagine how Clark must have felt.
"Those sadistic beasts!" gasped Diana.
"That's being too kind," said Clark. "What you're looking at is Tyr-El's pride and joy, the Doomsday Legion."
"Doomsday? As in the beast that killed you?"
"No. Not entirely, anyways," replied Clark. "That monstrosity came later, but Tyr-El was responsible for its predecessor. What he would do is take ordinary Kryptonian foot-soldiers, subject them to some sort of conditioning, and unleash them on enemy populations. Some of this conditioning involved genetic tampering and bio-enhancement technology – both of which were highly illegal under several inter-stellar treaties. That would partially explain his twisted appearance – and Doomsday's, for that matter."
Other holograms depicted these modifications. Ordinary Kryptonians, which looked similar to Clark, were strapped to gurneys and injected with various cocktails of drugs and exotic energies. They then thrashed out in anger and cried out in agony as their bodies were transformed, becoming pale, bulky, and even more imposing.
Another nearby hologram depicted the reactions of innocents to these creatures. Men, women, and children – many of which who weren't warriors – fled in terror at the mere sight of them. It didn't matter how fast they ran or how hard they cried. Tyr-El and his Doomsday Legion still caught them and tortured them.
"Needless to say, the Doomsday Legion developed quite a reputation," said Clark. "There are stories – horrifying stories – of entire communities committing suicide over rumors of their presence."
"A dishonorable, but far less cruel fate," said Diana solemnly.
"It wasn't just restricted to Krypton either. Tyr-El unleashed this legion on other planets as well – planets he thought were trying to exploit Krypton's situation. The scope and scale of his battle was so broad…so great that it single-handedly ended the chaos of that era. However brutal Tyr-El's tactics might have been, they go the job done. They helped forge a new, stable order."
"But that didn't stop the atrocities, did it?" Diana surmised.
Clark shook his head solemnly. He felt the lingering wounds on his body sting, as though they were echoes of Tyr-El's atrocities. Diana understood how the atrocities of the past could sting – more so than anyone. He ended up skipping large chunks of the data cluster, many of which just covered more of Tyr-El's atrocities. He didn't need to see every last one of them to confirm what Diana already knew.
"No. It didn't," said Clark grimly. "Tyr-El was prepared to make the Doomsday Legion the iron fist of Krypton. He believed that they could expand Krypton's influence and forge an inter-stellar empire like no other. He even began the process, forging alliances and subduing potential enemies in the worst way possible. He had this terrible tactic where he would find an entire community, ravage them in the worst way possible, and leave a couple of survivors to spread the word of his atrocity."
"Just like he did with Major Lee," said Diana, her stomach still churning at such a tactic.
"Yes. And just like her, it got the point across," he said. "As word of his brutality spread, nobody wanted to fight him or his monsters. Krypton had so much to gain. But all the pain and terror he inflicted – it was just too much for Kryptonians of that era, or any others, to stomach."
This was the point where Kryptonian history entered a gray area. Censorship, secrets, and shame obscured the truth, but could not hide it. The world was still processing it thanks to Lex Luthor's hacking. Clark had already come to accept it as a taint on his heritage that he could not avoid.
Another holographic scene played out. This time, it was less brutal and more solemn. It showed Tyr-El being subdued and his Doomsday Legion being disbanded. How this happened was another testament to the House of El's shame.
"In the end, it was Tyr-El's own son – my other distant grandfather – who turned against him," said Clark.
"An act of desperate redemption?" said Diana.
"More like a treachery of convenience," scoffed Clark. "His son conspired with a number of allies to take his father down. They tricked him, imprisoned him, and dissolved his entire order – replacing it with what eventually became Krypton's High Council."
"I usually despise treachery, but in this instance I'll make an exception."
"You and everyone else on Krypton. Tyr-El didn't expect his son to betray him. It was the only way he ever could've been stopped. Disbanding the Doomsday Legion was the only way to show to Krypton's allies that they were committed to condemning his atrocities. They helped make their point by throwing every last member of the Doomsday Legion into a black hole."
"A black hole? Not the Phantom Zone?" said Diana, remembering that this had been the usual domain for Krypton's prisoners.
"They saw that as too merciful," said Clark, "and I'm inclined to agree with them. But for Tyr-El himself, even a black hole was too quick. In a ceremony that his son used as a peace offering of sorts, he personally locked his father in a special containment chamber and launched it into the galactic core. He made sure Tyr-El was conscious the whole time and would be awake when he was consumed by the singularity."
Another hologram depicted this ceremony. It wasn't exactly joyous, but it certainly was passionate. Images of Kryptonians and various other aliens spitting on Tyr-El's chamber played out. Masses of Kryptonians and various beings lined the streets of Krypton's Capital Plaza. There was a collective sense of outrage and remorse amidst the crowd – a recognition that their bloodlust created Tyr-El. The shame they felt was palpable. She couldn't blame them for wanting to forget.
"I admire your people for recognizing the injustice Tyr-El was spreading. I still say his fate was too good for him," said Diana. "So how did he survive it?"
"I have no idea. He shouldn't have survived. He should've died years ago, thereby allowing my family and future generations to bury his atrocities," said Clark, his own shame consuming him, as it did his ancestors. "It makes me wonder why my father or his father or whoever didn't just delete this data."
"I'm sure they had reasons – good reasons," said Diana.
"Therein lies the problem," he said solemnly. "I don't doubt those reasons were good. When I first unlocked these crystals, one of the first things Jor-El did was admit his failure to stopping Krypton's destruction. It's one of the core tenants of the House of El. We admit our failures as much as we celebrate our successes. I guess that doesn't make him a complete hypocrite."
Recalling his biological father's words, Clark closed his eyes and slammed his fists on the console. He slammed so hard that the crystals cracked and the holograms disappeared. Even in accepting the truth, it still pained him. It pained him in ways that he had never felt before either as Superman or Clark Kent.
Diana, sensing the depths of his pain, attempted to console him. She walked up behind him, placed a hand on his shoulder, and tried to comfort him as best she could. It kept him from smashing more crystals, but it didn't make his burden any less painful.
"He still had to have known!" exclaimed Clark angrily. "He had the same burden – being related to Tyr-El! Except now, he has the luxury of being dead! I don't!"
"Kal, don't do this again," urged Diana.
"Why shouldn't I? It's my family! My legacy! My responsibility!" he shouted. "You of all people should understand that. Hell, you might be the only one who understands it after what happened with your mother."
It took a moment for the weight of his words to sink in. They were an indirect link to the painful revelations surrounding Diana's own family. It still struck her – the mere mention of these secrets and how they had upended her world. Despite his agitated state, Clark immediately regretted his words.
Rather than build on his growing list of regrets, he held his head low and placed his hand atop Diana's. She didn't pull away or lash out at him, but he did sense a reaction from her.
"I'm sorry, Diana. I shouldn't have said that," he said.
"Don't be. It's not wrong," said Diana. "I can't escape it. I am Diana, the daughter of Hippolyta and Zeus – the product of a sordid affair. I am an Amazon, a tribe of female warriors who have propagated by slaughtering innocent men, bearing their children, and abandoning their sons. I can no more hide from this legacy than you can hide from that of yours."
"That's what bugs me the most – that we can't escape it, no matter what we do," said Clark, now leaning over the console in despair.
"That might be true, but we don't have to let it define us. That's what I've been struggling with myself. I'm trying to figure it out – how to build a better legacy while not forgetting its flaws. It isn't easy. It shouldn't be easy. But I'm starting to realize that, as hard a burden it might be, it's something I don't have to do on my own."
Diana then dared to comfort him even more. She snaked her arms around his waist and pulled him into a warm embrace from behind. She ended up resting her chin on his shoulder, looking at their reflection together in the broken crystals on the console.
It seemed symbolic of their situations. Their legacies and their identities had been shattered. Yet here they were, sharing these burdens together. Seeing her with his reflection and feeling the warmth of her embrace had a powerful effect – one that went beyond comfort.
Clark affectionately took her hands in his, giving them a firm yet soft squeeze. For a brief moment, the pain and frustration in his eyes subsided. He remained fixated on his skewed reflection. There were no more holograms playing. There was no more data to analyze. There was just him and Diana, standing at a crossroads together. Just not having to stand alone gave him a strength.
With that strength, Clark came to a realization. He hated that his father kept secrets. He hated that Lex Luthor exposed those secrets even more. With every moment that passed, the legacy of Superman and the House of El grew darker. The people were responding with fear and hatred. He needed to respond as well.
"You're right. I can't do this on my own, Diana," said Clark.
"You won't have to. You have me," said Diana with a smile.
"And the Justice League, right?" he added.
"Right…them too," she said sheepishly, unable to correct herself fast enough.
"I'll need all the help I can get. I won't let Tyr-El turn Earth into another one of his atrocities," he said strongly, "and I think I have a way to do just that."
This surprised Diana somewhat. It sounded like Clark already had a plan in mind. With renewed determination, he shrugged off his despair and turned around. He remained within her arms. However, he also caressed her face with his hands, conveying some unexpected emotion that caught Diana off-guard.
He now looked at her with a new intensity – one that both intrigued and concerned her. Clark still had the look of a man reeling from the pain of all so many painful secrets. But now, he also had the look of a man willing to do something about them.
"Diana, if I'm going to stop Tyr-El, I'm going to need more than just emotional support," said Clark in a more serious tone.
"You know I'm here for you, Kal…Clark…whatever you want to call yourself," said Diana, already anxious of where this was going.
"You might come to regret that, Diana," he said, "because I can't just bring Tyr-El to justice. I have to kill him. I have to finish what my ancestors started."
This revelation alone was pretty striking. Superman did not take killing lightly. He never dared consider this method unless there was absolutely no other way. Tyr-El was an extreme case – one who could inflict suffering and injustice on a level few could imagine. It certainly qualified as one of those rare cases, but it couldn't be that simple. Diana knew this man too well to assume as such.
"Like I said, I'm here for you. I know you're not eager to take a life, no matter whose it might be," said Diana. "I'll still be there if it comes to that."
"Then I hope you don't hate me for this more than I already hate myself," said Clark, now embracing her a little closer, "because in order to kill Tyr-El, you might have to kill us both."
Up next: Rising Bloodlust