Author's Note: It's been a little while. Trust me, this chapter has been in planning for some time. It's takes cues from a series called Man of Steel you should look into if you get the time. It's narrated from three points of view - Lex Luthor, Booster Gold and the Man of Tomorrow himself. Originally I was intending to have a Superman chapter before this titled Man of Yesterday, but I decided against it. It was mostly character development, which is cool, but it was more or less simply offering a clearer view on what we already knew and I'm not in favour of that. Plot for the win, and this advances the plot immensely. If you don't read this, pretty much all of the future Superman/Lex plot will make no sense. So please, enjoy! Be sure to review, let me know what you think!

THE HOUSE ALWAYS WINS

"Ladies and gentlemen, today you will witness humanity's future change course."

Lex Luthor smiled so generously at the world's press sitting before him, camera lined up at the front, behind them journalists of all walks of life scribbled on notepads. They hung on his every word, of course, as they always did – some of them more cynically than others, but that was no matter. Lex Luthor was not the news today, nor was the tower. The news lay elsewhere.

"With our feet planted firmly on the ground," he said, smiling at the hidden meanings, "we will rise higher than ever before. We need to look no further than this tower."

His fingers worked at the computer in front of him, moving the slideshow on the huge screen behind him forward. It was full of classic buzz-words that would appease the media and the people of Metropolis, written in big, friendly, inoffensive writing. Though he flicked the slideshow forward, the computer had other functions.

Just around the block, a massive explosion thundered out, blasting a building upwards. People from the crowd began to shout and scream. A plumage of smoke rose steadily, and soon they could see it from the peak of the LexCorp Spire.

And it begins.

Booster Gold heard the explosion from far off, and headed in its direction. His benefactor, Luthor, had built extra features into the suit, and one of the many was anti-gravity generators. It allowed him to fly unimpeded without the inconvenience of fire streams from his boots. Luthor had did Booster Gold a great service by helping him, and all the executive had asked in return was for his cooperation and assistance when things went wrong.

In the distance, black smoke writhed into the air, up and up. And now something's wrong, he thought, and it's time to shine.

He snaked through the buildings until he reached the smoking ruin of building and recognised it at once. The art deco-style monument rose up maybe a hundred feet before its brown stones and cream adornments turned to broke shards of jutted rock. He flew to the top and followed it down, looking for the source.

A set of stairs blocked off by fallen walls. An explosion, he recognised, feeling proud of himself. Now came the part he enjoyed most. Well, after the glory he got from the press, and recently, he'd been getting plenty of that. Luthor was helping with that too. He channelled and ushered them towards Booster, giving him attention that even Superman didn't get – the reign of the Kryptonian was over. It was Gold's time to fly.

Energy beams, yellow and ringed with orange and red, held aim on the debris for just a moment and then blasted a hole in it, giving him a way through. He skipped on down the stairs, eyes tripping around the room. The bodies were there and though he tried to avoid them, they looked at him.

He changed his vision to search for heat and was overwhelmed with red. Red and orange everywhere against the backdrop of yellow – the bombs had spread explosive fuel through the complex, and the walls had heated themselves up to the extent that heat vision was, unfortunately, useless. He'd have to resort to other methods.

Unfortunately, none came to mind. For now, Booster would just have to take a walk through the small corpses and hope. He hummed as he went.

Fires still burned on around the room, smoke filling it. Luckily the suit filtered out most of the smoke and fumes, and what it didn't floated up out of the holes in the ceilings where the sunlight was trying to force its way in. The smoke made that difficult.

A faint voice in the distance. Booster Gold, ever the detective, latched onto it and followed. It took him through one building and then over a ledge, and into another. The explosives hadn't come from here, he realised, they'd come from the next building over. Something had gone wrong, or something had been planned out very extensively indeed. Either way, there was still someone out here. Whether it was the bomber or a victim, he did not yet know.

I hope it's the bomber, more flashes from the cameras if I catch the bomber.

The voice grew stronger and stronger as he went through the other building, realising what it was: an orphanage. There were far more bodies in here, and they were much, much smaller. Tiny bodies dotted around the place, strewn, body parts everywhere. And amidst it all, a small man hunched over one of them, crying hard.

"Dolly, Dolly, Dolly, I'm so sorry… this was supposed to be a robbery. This wasn't meant to happen. I'm so sorry. Never to children, never to my poor babes…"

Booster Gold walked over to the man he did not recognise but knew was the bomber, knew at once. His voice was high and wet with tears.

"You're coming with me," Booster Gold said, reaching his hand out for the bomber, but just when he was going to take him lightly by the arm outside and to the police, his glove clenched around the bomber's arm and the sound of snapping cartilage was distinct.

Shit, he thought. What the hell?

The glove ripped the bomber from the ground and Booster's boots up and away. He burst through the roof and the rest of it went tumbling down, just above the streets of Metropolis. He held out the bomber.

"IDENTIFY YOURSELF," said a voice from Booster Gold's mask that was not his own. It sounded like his, to be sure, but the voice was simulated. He tried to resist, tried to move from place to place, but he failed. The suit was in control. Luthor, what have you done? What are you DOING TO ME? "IDENTIFY YOURSELF TO THE WORLD, BOMBER."

A microphone projected his voice loud and clear over the streets. People looked up, hands pressed over their eyes to block out the sun.

"Winslow Schott."

"MORE COMMONLY KNOWN AS…"

"Some know me as Toyman."

I know what you will do, Lex thought, watching the news that had been projected up on the screen behind him, because you have made clear what you refuse to. He was waiting for the red and the blue, the sign that he was coming, swooping in to save the villain. Lex fiddled with the controls in front of him, watching Booster Gold dance like a puppet on strings.

As hard as it is to believe, you are predictable. Your arrogance may exceed your extraordinary abilities, and it is that that will bring about your downfall.

"How many people have you killed?" Booster Gold asked, speaking every word he was fed.

"Hundreds, HUNDREDS! And now I've killed l-little babies… all the little babies…"

I have shown them fear with the deaths of a few children. The people just want someone with strength to swoop down like an avenging angel to take the fear away. Justice.

Helicopters surrounding the scene gave an overview of the situation, zooming in on"And what do you deserve?"

"I deserve… I deserve a chance to live."

"And will you continue to kill? Lying here will end one way. Death."

"I… I… don't know…"

Lex Luthor pressed one button and Booster Gold's glove released its grasp, letting the Toyman fall to the streets below, falling, falling, falling…

And then a glint of red and blue saved him, just like Lex knew he would.

The justice they want is snatched from them, taken by the hero they've come to slowly like less and less, hate more and more.

Clark saw the reports on the news and felt that something was wrong. There was no delay in leaving the Daily Planet building to find them. He felt a little guilty leaving Lois without a word of explanation, but she'd see it soon enough. She was a journalist, after all, working in the largest hub of information flow in the world.

He arrived just in time to catch Schott. A criminal or not, he didn't deserve to die. He floated down to the police and handed him over, then glanced back up. His eyes were on Booster Gold on that moment. A quick flash through his suit showed that it was indeed him. He rushed up there and hovered away from him.

"Why did you try and kill him, Booster Gold? That was murder. You're better than that."

Silence.

"I have to take you in."

There was a pause that seemed to last forever until Booster turned and flew away – fast, but not quite fast enough. What are you doing, Michael? This is unlike you.

He caught Booster over the Science Spire and gripped onto his wrist tightly; electric currents flowed into Superman, electrifying and hurting him. His back arched in a spasm and he recoiled from Booster, who still simply hung there. He did not run then. Booster reached up a hand and the circular pad began to charge a plasma beam. Though it could not hurt him, it would hurt Superman badly.

Heat vision on the hand blaster, and in return Booster brought his other hand around, balled in a fist, aiming for Superman's head.

The Man of Steel blocked the attack with his wrist and swung his own hand around, hoping to deal simply enough damage to render him unconscious. This fight ends now.

Only at the last moment before impact did he hear Michael Carter's screams.

"CLARK! HELP ME! PLEASE STOP! IT'S NOT ME, IT'S –"

Click.

His fist had barely touched the visor of Booster Gold when the suit exploded, the force sending Clark Kent back, tearing a hole in his cape, swirling through the air. Kal-El tumbled in free-fall before regaining himself, regaining control ten feet above a press conference being held below him.

He turned on them and the flashes went off before his eyes, cameras all aimed on him. Screams and questions he expected, roars of people confused or outraged. No.

Silence.

And then, a voice.

"I see your eyes," Lex Luthor screamed before the press of the world. "I know all of your remarkable visions, but let me tell you what you can't see – my soul. And there is not a soul in Metropolis that wouldn't have watched Booster Gold drop him, and given the same opportunity, done the same thing themselves. Not a soul. How does that make you feel… you arrogant, alien bastard?!"

Superman said nothing. He just stared at him, the man he once thought dead. The man he grieved over, as he would with Michael Carter.

"Your silence says everything," Lex said and turned, waving dismissively. "I hope this drives you back out to the blackness from where you came."

"Murderer!"

"You killed Booster!"

Back on the podium, Lex Luthor faced him. They stared at each other for a long moment and Kal-El knew that he'd failed. Luthor shook his head and the cameras moved between them. "Please," Lex pleaded. "Just fly away."

Superman left the scene, but their insults followed him all the way home.

I know I can't beat you…

Alone.

But then again, I'm not alone, am I? There are seven billion of me and only one of you. Separated from your allies, you are alone. Divided you will fall.

"We have known for some time that the alien was falling out of favour with the world, and I think he sensed that… and now he is a killer. With all his power, he uses it – for this. A force of nature, but he is not natural."

The cameras flashed and the journalists scribbled down his words.

"I'm saddened it's to come to this. I wanted this day to be about this spire, the celebration of humanity's success, not the falling of an idol. A Superman, but he is not a doesn't deserve the name. It's a name we gave to him in attempt to humanise him – as pointless as naming a hurricane. And he is a hurricane. Take a hurricane and multiply it by a thousand. That is what he is. Good riddance."

Good riddance.