Not even sure if I can preface this one at all without giving anything away. Almost there, folks. It's all been leading up to this.


In the private dining room of a very upscale restaurant in Metropolis, six men met that evening to discuss the fate of a newspaper. These men were the board of directors of Vanderworth Holdings Ltd, and several of them were also on the boards of Eagle Capital Investments and Prometheus Corp. Mr. Cooper, the CEO of Vanderworth, viewed his colleagues with veiled disdain. They were all older, several beginning to go bald, and most had the sort of hubris that would think their toupees could fool a college-age blonde.

"As you all know, Mr. Roth's orders are clear," said Mr. Newman, the eldest, wealthiest, and most influential person present. He knew it, too, and used it every chance he could. "Regardless of what happens with Prometheus' other projects, we are to take this objective at any cost. No exceptions."

"Doesn't he realize we've driven the stock so high we're losing a margin to the damn day traders?"Mr. Cooper growled, but without much venom. He had been with Vanderworth long enough to remember Gertrude and her eccentricities. He knew Mr. Roth's type, and also knew that as long as Roth held the purse strings, they would all dance to his tune. Hopefully he would continue to show enough restraint to keep from collapsing the companies Prometheus funded.

Newman sipped his second martini and replied, predictably, "He doesn't care, so long as we end up with a controlling interest. The higher the stock goes, the more tempting it will be for some of the hangers-on to sell." Easy for him to say; he was Roth's right-hand man in all things financial.

"We'll all be scrambling to fund the expenditure," Mr. McClure sighed, nursing his fourth drink. Cooper could pity him, just a little. Several years ago he'd made the mistake of using his family's company to finance his two homes and three vehicles. When the business simply evaporated – a common problem in this rapidly-shifting digital age – he'd had to sell shares to Vanderworth just to stay afloat. Now he was part of the board of directors, his business acumen serving Cooper in good stead, but he resented the fact that Vanderworth was ultimately controlled by Prometheus.

"Relax. Prometheus' R&D will refund all of us. Their April product rollout ought to skyrocket sales." That was Mr. Neal, the youngest at the table, with a background in corporate law. Cooper lifted his drink to hide his sneer; Neal would never admit it if there was a problem, anyway. He'd keep right on patting their backs and reassuring them until they all wound up in bankruptcy court.

"So everything is proceeding according to plan so far," Newman mused. "Hollis, have you heard from Eastlake?"

The fifth man nodded. Hollis was on the board of directors of Eagle Capital Investments, and considered himself an advisor to its CEO, Erik Eastlake. He had given the young investor his orders regarding the power structure of the Daily Planet, and even though Eastlake had failed to compromise the heir apparent, he was still on board for the takeover. "He said he's amassed a share, and will be with us on Friday."

"Excellent," said the sixth, Mr. Douglas, who spoke with an Australian accent. The newcomer to the group, he represented those shadowy interests that Cooper preferred not to know too much about. "Mr. Roth will be very pleased with our success. And I personally will enjoy the expression on that hard-headed old editor's face when we tell White we own his precious paper. Not to mention his darling protégée. She should have taken the merger we proposed."

Her green eyes were closing for the fifth time. Lana was clearly tired, having slipped into dozing several times as they sat, but she hadn't wanted to leave. Richard pretended not to notice when she drifted off to sleep in the chair beside Lois' hospital bed. Curled into the overstuffed chair with her bare feet under her, Elise was faring better, reading a science magazine she'd taken from the waiting room. Everything else was still – the nurse had checked on Lois less than an hour ago, and since she was in stable condition for the moment, no one would come in for a while.

Richard sat beside her and held her hand, thinking about how strangely easy it was to get used to this. He'd dropped into a mindset of interminable waiting, until the present circumstances began to seem normal, and it felt like he'd always been surrounded by pale green walls and softly beeping machinery. Idly, he turned Lois' hand palm upward, and traced the lines there with his fingertips. One was supposed to be for life, another for love, another for fate or some such thing. Richard stroked the lines again, remembering all the times these hands had impacted his life. The first time Lois had peeled a clingy twin off her hip and passed the wide-eyed child to him to hold; the warmth of her hand resting in the small of his back as they slept; fingers flying over the keyboard as she banged out a story five minutes before deadline; knuckles white with strain as she struggled to keep Clark from drowning in the cold ocean; and all the affectionate smacks and hair-rumpling and hugs since their breakup. The rings that should have been on her finger were currently in his pocket for safekeeping, and he'd never been happier for her than the day Clark had slipped that gold band on. A realization he hadn't expected until it had happened.

Lost in those memories, Richard didn't realize he was repeatedly rubbing Lois' palm until her fingers tightened spasmodically around his. He froze, his gaze flying to her face. It seemed as though her expression had changed, going from the blankness of narcotic-assisted sleep to the merest ghost of annoyance. Richard glanced at the monitor, and saw her heart rate was rising. A thrill of amazed excitement shot through him. Holy shit, she's waking up! And I just aggravated her awake. Hey, whatever works…

Unaware that he was holding his breath, Richard leaned forward, watching Lois intently. He squeezed her hand, and felt her give a little squeeze back. And then, to his delight, those hazel eyes slowly opened and met his gaze. "Hey, babe," he whispered.

That got Elise's attention, and she put down the magazine, watching the two of them and biting her lip. Lois blinked a couple of times, awareness starting to kindle, and seemed to focus blearily on Richard's face, her eyes full of questions. "They went back for her," he told her, and after another beat, Lois' eyes slipped closed again. This time, though, the expression on her face looked more peaceful. To someone who could read an article's worth of meaning into every twitch of an eyebrow, it was obvious that Lois was satisfied with his answer.

Richard sat back with a sigh of relief. Lois needed to sleep in order to heal, and she was on significant doses of pain medication too, but at least now that she'd woken up for a few seconds, he knew she'd be all right.

While overseeing dinner for his temporary housemates, Ron took strength from little signs of normalcy: Perry grumbling through his competitors' papers, and Jimmy catering to the Chief's whims rather than be anywhere near the kitchen. Such a couple of confirmed bachelors, for all that the boss had finally gotten married. Ron peeked into the living room just in time to hear Perry snarl, "Great Caesar's ghost, if I was Raines, I'd drag her copy editor out to the bay and throw him in. A misspelling on the front page! It's a disgrace." Jimmy nodded sagely.

The phone rang then, and Ron's stomach plummeted. All the news since New Year's had been bad turning worse. Kala running away, then kidnapped, the bloodbath at Lana's apartment, Jason's girlfriend turning out to be a spy, and then this morning Lois had been shot. His sister-in-law, the indestructible Lois Lane, was even now lying in a hospital bed in Las Vegas, and he knew perfectly well how much that was hurting Perry. Ron had never seen him look so strained, so much his age, as he had since that call had come in. And this call could only be more bad news.

Muttering about people who called at an hour like this, Perry got up and answered the phone. Ron hovered in the doorway, listening to his half of the conversation, as Jimmy eavesdropped while pretending to focus on the story he was reading. "White residence," Perry said, and then his voice turned even more gruff than usual. "Just what exactly do you think you're up to, calling me?"

He listened for a long moment, then huffed. "Well, thanks for the warning. I knew they were going to move on it sooner or later. Our contingent might have a few surprises for them, though. This won't be as easy as they thought." Another pause, while Ron wondered what else was going on. That sounded like it might be part of the takeover attempt… "Oh, really? And just how do you plan to do that?"

The rest was thoughtful murmuring, but it sounded like Perry was agreeing to whatever the person on the other end of the line had to say. At last he said, "Sounds good, Eastlake. I'll see you on Friday then." With that he hung up.

"Who was it?" Ron asked, trying not to sound worried.

Perry flashed his almost-manic newsman's grin. "That wet-behind-the-ears little idiot Eastlake. He might not understand basics like leaving married women alone, but he's on our side and the rest of the vultures don't know it. Thanks to him, I know exactly when they're going to confront us. It'll be my pleasure to tell them they can't jerk us around anymore."

"We are winning the share war, right, Chief?" Jimmy asked.

"Of course," Perry replied. "Well, it's mostly my niece-in-law you'll have to thank. Loaded Lang probably owns more stock in the Planet than anyone else right now, even the employee stock purchase plan."

That soothed both younger men a little, but Ron was still glad to hear Perry muttering to himself with satisfaction, "I knew that boy would be useful somehow."

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The huge chunk of reinforced concrete almost floated down toward Jason, who looked like he was moving through molasses as he tried to roll out of its path. Kala saw it happening, and her heart constricted into a knot of agony. Her brother was going to die right in front of her…

Even as the despairing thought occurred, she was moving. Kala vaulted the railing and landed running so fast her feet didn't seem to touch the ground. The shadow of the falling ceiling was above her, coming down to crush her too, and she ducked beneath it to grab Jason by the collar and drag him out of the way.

She'd never moved this fast before, not even in the fields outside Smallville when she tested her speed against her father's. And still she pushed herself to move faster. Her vision actually seemed to be blurring at the edges, but that could have been simple panic. Kala managed to yank Jason out from underneath the falling concrete with just a few feet to spare, and her terror turned instantly to fury at the two whose negligence had nearly caused his death.

The damaged ceiling landed with a loud boom, kicking up swirls of dust, and Kala turned in fury to face the older men. Eyes as keen as her voice, she screamed up at her father and Dru-Zod, "Enough of this foolishness! You could have killed Jon-El with your thoughtlessness!" Kal-El had just turned his head in response to the noise, and the sight of his children so close to disaster made his face go pale. For a minute, I nearly forgot… It was in that instant that Dru-Zod struck, the force of the blow propelling his enemy through the nearest wall.

Kala could only flinch in incredulity at her ally. What is he doing? There was no reason for that punch; in another few seconds she could have gained control of the situation. But Jason was struggling to his feet beside her. "It's not the first time, Kal! He's attacked us once already! He tried to kill me when we came looking for you this morning!" he cried, his voice full of desperation and fear.

The first tendril of doubt began to snake through Kala's mind at her twin's words, her façade flickering for a moment as she looked at him, but the sound of many booted feet running towards them brought her focus back to the present moment. "This is a wasteful use of our time. The House of El is not our enemy, Dru-Zod," she said, as her father warily eased toward the older Kryptonian and the security guards began to circle around them. "It's clear that Luthor is the true foe!"

She saw realization dawn on Dru-Zod's face at the same moment a voice asked in the back of her mind, And where is Luthor right now, while everyone he hates is busily fighting one another? Where else would he be, but getting his hands on the single device capable of solving all his problems with the simple press of a trigger?

Kala whirled with a moment to consider, racing toward the weapons vault where Zod had told her Luthor kept the kryptonite gun. She could hear Jason trailing behind her, and on the level above, Kal-El similarly followed Dru-Zod. They had to stop Luthor from using that weapon…

Luthor was in a hurry. So much depended on this moment, and he'd made as many preparations as possible ahead of time. The essential personnel were safely in Australia; all the research had been copied over to that lab; one complete set of teaching crystals had been shipped to a secure storage facility this week, augmenting the set already in Australia; and the last cell line sample was in transit right now, dropped off by Mercy as she went to finish off Lois Lane. Rather paradoxical, that last, but Luthor was never one to waste an opportunity, even if blood cells weren't the best source of DNA.

In other words, he was ready to lose this facility and everyone in it, except himself of course. Such a costly loss would be seem by his enemies as a decisive defeat, but it was merely a tactical withdrawal. Lois had been on his trail for months, and eventually she would've found an exposed this facility. Rather than abandon it, which would have set them thinking about where else he could have gone, Luthor had chosen to sacrifice it. Enough would be left to let them think he'd won, and yet he wouldn't really have lost much. An underground base in a deserted area, difficult to supply, difficult to staff, and rapidly losing its one overwhelming benefit of secrecy? No, the real cost would have been to keep it for much longer.

And in cutting his losses this way, he had a chance at succeeding in one of his oldest ambitions: scouring the Kryptonian menace away from his planet. That thought made his heart race like nothing else could.

The weapons locker was carefully secured so that only Luthor's full handprint and retinal scan would open it. He didn't need any of the security staff having access to this stuff, after all. It was built to exacting specifications, thickly lined with lead and concrete to contain the radiation the kryptonite gun leaked. Its door was five inches thick, a solid steel core with an inch of lead on either side. It was designed to rise straight up into the walls of the larger room, and opened in less than two seconds. The door closed even more rapidly, the heavy solid metal crashing down almost instantly.

Luthor was peripherally aware of a commotion much further away as he reached the weapons locker. His guards were dealing with the Kryptonians, and if he was lucky, Zod was killing Kal-El. Or vice versa – one less target either way. Now that he had accessed the most crucial information thanks to Kala's cooperation, all of them were expendable.

He pressed his palm against the liquid crystal panel, and leaned forward to allow a beam of cold blue light to scan his eyeball. The system chimed, and then everything happened at once.

Much later, Luthor would try to reconstruct the series of events, and decide he'd felt the gust of wind against his back first. That happened just as the door opened, and out of the corner of his eye he'd seen a blur flash past, going into the weapons locker. He had begun to turn toward the door, astonishment just registering, when a sudden grip on his shoulder lifted him and flung him aside.

All of those impressions seemed to occur at the same time, however, and Luthor found himself sprawling at the feet of Jason Kent. He immediately rolled, trying to get distance from the boy who'd been a proven killer since the age of six, but Jason was ignoring him.

Luthor got to his knees, trying to see what had captured the boy's attention, and caught his breath at the scene in the locker.

Zod's plans were unraveling. Kala Kal-El had not remained at her post, as she should have done, and instead had come running to the fight. Fortunately he was able to bias her against her own family, making it appear that he was very much getting the worst of the fight. That worked exactly as planned, for she came to his aid, much to the horror of her father and brother. For a moment, it had seemed as though he would succeed in turning the House of El against itself.

But even when she'd struck at her own brother, he had not raised his hand to hurt her in return. Had it been Zod, attacked by one of his own soldiers in such a fit of apparent madness, he would have used a disabling blow and dealt with the underling later. Jon-El seemed willing to take any amount of abuse, even remove himself from the larger fight entirely, in order not to harm his sister.

Perhaps I should have paid more attention to this supposed bond between twins, he thought. The General had dismissed such anecdotal evidence in his research of the House of El, viewing it as superstitious nonsense equivalent to the endless human blather about the soul.

It was too late for speculation; his initial plan might already be impossible to achieve. Zod had intended for Luthor to slay the male heirs of Jor-El, whereupon he himself would kill Luthor. To that end he had misdirected Kala when he sent her on her mission, meaning only for her to take the life of one or more guards in her futile effort to avenge her mother.

The shock of losing her entire family in a single day – for surely Lois Lane would not survive, especially not with Mercy Graves attending to her – would be terrible. Coupled with the awareness of her own capacity to kill, it would have unhinged Kala's mind enough to allow him to finish his reprogramming of her. With her will subsumed to his own, his powers returned in full, and both Luthor and the House of El out of his way, nothing would be able to stop Zod. This Justice League of America would fall, especially since Zod would be in control of all of Luthor's resources.

And then, the world. Now he understood how he had failed before. Half-mad from his imprisonment in the Phantom Zone, and disgusted by the alien culture he saw before him, then Zod had sought only to subjugate and destroy humanity. This time, he knew them a little better, had studied them during his prison term. And with Kala by his side, he would have a perfect interpreter of humanity's impulses. She had been raised here, surrounded by the savages every moment of her life, and would be able to accurately predict them. She would serve as his guide for the takeover, and best of all, she would be completely trustworthy. After all, he would be her savior as well as her only link to her Kryptonian heritage.

The sole problem with that plan had been the fact that Kala was also an heir to the House of El. Yet it was a simple matter to change that. There came a time in every Kryptonian woman's life when she must leave the house of her father and take another man's name, and though she was the daughter of his oppressors, she was also the last of her kind. Even as he would be the last of his. Alliance would be the only hope to continue Krypton's legacy.

All of that might now have to be abandoned, for Luthor was too slow to respond, and Kala too swift. Zod would not enjoy pretending to be an ally of his foes, working patiently and secretly for years toward their destruction. He could do that if necessary, pretend humility and bend his knee before the son of his jailer, knowing that he had already planted the seeds of dissolution within the family, but he much preferred the swifter, cleaner conclusion.

Still, all was not yet lost. Luthor was already at the weapons locker, and Zod put on a burst of speed. The human would take up his weapon, turn, and fire at the pursuing Kryptonians. If Zod moved past him and was within the locker itself when it fired, he would be partially shielded from the radiation, which would catch Kal-El and Jon-El instead. He would rescue Kala from it – she was running at his side even now – and kill Luthor, who would not expect an attack from the back of the weapons locker, which had been empty seconds ago. All could still go as planned…

Kala saw Luthor at the door to the weapons locker, and her heart rate shot up, adrenaline surging into her veins. He would kill them all, kill every last vestige of Krypton, kill her family… She couldn't allow that to happen.

A moment ago, when Jason's life had been in danger, Kala had found a new level of speed, the existence of which she'd never before imagined. She used it now, and the world blurred past, her focus narrowing forward. A similar effect occurred in her mind, as her fear and fury evaporated before the driving need to stop Luthor. That blew like a gust of Arctic wind through her thoughts, sweeping aside all the trauma of the last few days and leaving her a precious few moments in which to act.

But something kept nagging at her, one image and one sound repeating over and over as the seconds stretched like taffy. The way Dru-Zod had lashed out at her father, and Jason's scream. He tried to kill me when we came looking for you this morning! That shriek was born of desperation, and Jason wasn't generally given to exaggeration. If Zod had merely cuffed him around for show, to make Luthor think he was still loyal, Jason wouldn't have said kill.

And there had been no reason to strike her father. Kal-El had been frozen in horror, momentarily forgetting Zod's existence at the realization of the threat to his son. Zod could have backed off then, showing himself to be their ally, but instead he had struck with all his strength.

The sight of Jason and her father had warmed a part of her heart she hadn't realized was frozen … and just who was it that told her to close off her love for her family and focus on the here and now? Who had encouraged her when she'd tried to turn herself into unfeeling crystal? Who had been at her side, subtly influencing and complimenting her? But Zod had protected her … from some threats. He had shared his own history with her … and slanted every event in his own favor. The suspicions flickered through Kala's mind as she darted into the weapons locker.

The kryptonite gun was right there in front of her. Luthor was still at the door, but Kala couldn't take any risks. She snatched up the weapon, and her ears began ringing immediately as the leaking radiation took effect.

Kal-El had picked himself up out of the wall he'd been thrown through, dazed and disheartened. He hadn't been watching out for Jason, and his negligence had almost resulted in his son's death. Never mind that he had been preoccupied with fighting Zod; in Kal-El's mind there was no excuse for such mistakes. He had to be perfect, all the time, because the slightest lapse in attention could mean the loss of someone's life. Jason had come too close, just then, and Kal-El hated himself for not being more careful even as relief surged through him that the boy was unharmed.

Worse, Kala wasn't acting like herself at all; it seemed as though Jor-El was right. Under the pressure of captivity and in Zod's company, she had become his willing follower instead of a captive. Kal-El's spirits had never been so low, not even when he'd seen her falling off Luthor's island ten years ago. Then she was in danger, but it was something he could save her from. This was much worse. How deep did her delusion run? Was she actually dangerous to them, as Jor-El had predicted?

But then she stopped the fight, reminding them all there was another foe to fear. Luthor. Even the name sent ice down Kal-El's spine, as he realized they had ignored the human and focused on Zod. What was Luthor up to while they were distracted? And how much of this had he planned? Kala insisted Zod wasn't the enemy – what if she was right, and his sole purpose for being here was to delay himself and Jason? Kal-El immediately rejected that thought. Zod could have surrendered, if he was merely a prisoner. He was a general, he understood the perils of friendly fire, and he would not have provoked a fight with potential allies. Kal-El remembered the man's chilling voice, the lust for power that burned in Zod's dark eyes, the recording Jor-El had shown him wherein Zod swore vengeance upon all the heirs of El. No, this was no supporter.

As soon as the words were spoken, Kala and Zod shared a frightened look and dashed off. Kal-El wasn't sure where they were headed, so he had to hang back a bit and follow Zod's lead. Meanwhile Jason managed to keep up fairly well, using his strength to take longer leaps combined with what super-speed he did have.

Their destination became clear when he saw Luthor up ahead, opening a door to small room with heavily reinforced walls. The moment the door slid open, Kal-El felt the warning prickle along his skin, and knew there was kryptonite inside. He checked himself at the door, catching Luthor by the back of the shirt and tossing him aside. They couldn't let him get his hands on the kryptonite inside.

Kala went right in, either ignoring the radiation or not feeling it thanks to her partial immunity. Zod had disappeared from sight while Kal-El dealt with Luthor, but a sweeping glance found him again: inside the room, pressed against the back wall.

As her father watched, Kala lifted something that looked a lot like a gun off a stand in the center of the room. He froze; somehow he knew the radiation was coming from that device. Worse, it was only leaking slightly, just enough kryptonite escaping into the air to make his skin tingle, rather like the sensation of sunburn for humans. And sunburn itself was a symptom of radiation.

But what would be the point of creating a weapon that looked so much like a gun, and had so little effect? No, it was more likely Luthor had found a way to concentrate kryptonite radiation. Kal-El remembered Pa showing him how to start a fire with a magnifying glass, focusing the sun's rays until they made tinder burst into flame. He could imagine all too easily what it would be like to experience kryptonite radiation the same way, an intense beam of pure green death.

And now the weapon was in Kala's hands. He didn't even have time to worry before she did the one thing he would never have suspected.

Jason almost tripped over Luthor when Dad tossed him, and aimed sharp kick at the man. What he wanted to do at that moment was pounce on the sick bastard and beat him into a smear on the concrete, but Dad was right – they didn't do those kinds of things. No matter how much they wanted to, or how much slime like Luthor deserved it. We're the good guys.

Even if Kala has forgotten that. He had never been more frightened for his twin than he was at that moment. His worst nightmare had come true – she'd slipped away from him. The moment at their birthday party seemed like an omen now, that instant where he hadn't recognized her. Now she carried herself differently, spoke differently, acted differently; she wasn't Kala anymore, she was Krypton's Princess, and under Zod's command. It would've been easier to find her hurt and acting like her usual self than to see this stranger looking out of his twin's eyes.

Stifled rage and terrible loss warring in his chest, he sidestepped Luthor to focus on Kala. She was in the little room Luthor had been going for, picking up something. A gun. Jason felt sick at the sight of it, but didn't realize why. He was too astounded to make the connection between his nausea and the kryptonite radiation.

For a single second, everyone and everything stopped. Kala felt all of it, all of them, resting on her, like she was the knife-edge on which the entire situation balanced. The gun was in her hands, not Luthor's. The choice was hers. And in spite of recent betrayals, there was really only one choice to make. Taking a deep breath, her eyes already filling with tears, Kala raised the gun.

Aimed straight at Zod.

In the confines of the weapons locker, the kryptonite gun had a tangible presence, its radiation leakage a sinister stinging on his exposed skin. Zod could stand that for a little while, if necessary. But he had never expected Kala to turn on him.

He had seen those mining rays in use, seen them melt crystal and stone with a beam of intense light. And now the most diabolical adaptation of that technology was turned on him. Zod froze for an instant, knowing true terror for the first time since the Phantom Zone descended to swallow him up with its terrible deathless oblivion.

But this was Kala Kal-El, and he had made her in his own image. If he retaliated now, or fled, he would lose her, and all his plans would be for naught. Yet if he could convince her to turn the weapon aside, his hold on her would only be increased. Raising his hands, he took a small step toward her and asked softly, "Kala, what are you doing?" Everything, from the gesture that bespoke harmlessness to the tone of gentle persuasion to the use of her familiar name, was calculated to soothe her.

And none of it worked.

Kal-El didn't dare move or breathe. Had Kala come to her senses at last? Maybe she could hold Zod off long enough for all of them to escape. But then the older Kryptonian tried to reason with her. Kal-El could have told him it was no use. Like her mother, once roused to fury Kala was immune to sweet reason, and knew only one goal: protecting herself and those she loved at any cost.

"Be silent. You betrayed me," she snarled, in that too-perfect Kryptonese. How had she developed an accent as good as his own in only a few days?

Zod tried again. "Kala…" Her father ground his teeth, to hear Krypton's greatest criminal using his daughter's given name so familiarly, but he still couldn't intervene. He couldn't risk distracting Kala at a critical moment.

It was no use. "Silence, Dru-Zod! You said you would not harm my brother, and you have gone back upon your word. I saw you. You would have slain him." The rage in her voice built as she took a step backward.

Zod paused, choosing his words carefully, taking another cautious step toward her. "He would do the same to me, Kala. And I did not kill him – there he stands." Jason bristled at that; Kal-El remembered how he'd found his son earlier, how close his timing had been. Still neither of them said a word. If Kala took her attention off Zod for one instant, it would be enough for him to strike.

Kala's voice was low and wrathful. "Everything you ever told me was a lie."

"No," Zod said, quiet and insistent. "Think on all the things we've discussed, all the abuses and the cruelties of this world that could be made right if only someone of sufficient courage were to command it be made so. Kal-El will never understand that, nor Jon-El. They cannot see it as you and I do – your father and your brother are both blinded by Jor-El's arrogance. My old colleague sent his son here as a messiah, and has not your own religion taught you the fate of such saviors? They will burn themselves out in their mission, slaving away for the good of a people who cannot even be bothered to conserve their resources! Is that not folly? Would it not be best for all humanity if they were taken in hand by someone with the wisdom to see the consequences of their actions, and the will to save this planet from the destruction being wreaked upon it?"

Jason drew in breath for a retort, and Kal-El silenced him with a look. Every instinct he had, every intuition born of a thousand struggles against villains of all kinds, told him this was Kala's fight. They could not intervene to argue or to distract. It tore him apart not to defend her, but he couldn't protect her from Zod. She had to protect herself, and she knew his arguments had a fatal flaw.

Kal-El hoped Kala was thinking of that flaw as she met Zod's statement with a long silence. Still, he worried. Zod was a skilled debater, and his life was at stake now, so he would use every ounce of persuasion he could muster. And he had had enough time to learn Kala's weaknesses.

She lifted her head and stared into Zod's eyes, her gaze clear and cold. "No, Dru-Zod. You are wrong, and you will always be wrong. It is not possible to command people to be better. The way the House of El has chosen is inspiration. It is slower, true, but it is the right way, for it does not steal the choice from an entire world. If people are only free to do what is right, then they are not free at all. They must be free to make mistakes, to fail, to suffer consequences, and to try again. If that means rescuing them from their folly time and time again, then so be it. It is better than making them slaves, for only with freedom can they learn to be the great people that they wish to be."

Jason sighed with relief, and Kal-El could have wept with it. She wasn't entirely lost to them – but her hands were shaking. The radiation had to be getting to her by now, though she was partially protected. Still Kal-El hung back. If Kala triggered the kryptonite gun, they would have to make a quick dash for her, something they couldn't do if they got hit with the radiation at close range.

Zod hadn't yet given up, even though it must have been clear than his psychological conditioning was breaking. "Kala, listen to me. That weapon you hold is as deadly to you as it is to me."

"Good." Kala smiled a fey and bitter smile, and Kal-El began to worry again. Her expression looked too much like Lois' when they'd gone into the warehouse.

Zod's voice betrayed a hint of nervousness, but he didn't miss a beat. "Deadly to your father and brother as well. And we four are the last of our kind, all that remains of Krypton's glory. You will not destroy us all, Kala. You are a daughter of the House of El, you dare not extinguish the last of our legacy…"

Kala's eyes blazed, and she bared her teeth in a snarl of defiance. Her hand went to her neck now, slim fingers reaching for the dainty silver chain there and wrapping around a silver object as if it were an anchor. Clinging to what must be Lois' locket to ground herself. Though Kal-El couldn't see it, inside her mind all her dreams of being a grand Kryptonian lady – the Last Daughter of Krypton – were withering like frost before flame. That world was gone forever, and the true folly would be trying to recreate it here. She understood then what Jason seemed to have always known: Earth was home, and the twins were essentially human. Human by half their heritage, human by birth, human by upbringing. Humans with powers, but human, not alien, not in the heart or mind where it truly counted. What was alien in them was a relic, an artifact of a dead world, a legacy that deserved respect, but they could never forget that here and now they lived in a human world, not a Kryptonian one.

Kala switched from Kryptonese to snarl in English, hazel eyes laser-sharp and full of fire, "Liar! Fuck you, fuck Krypton, and fuck your precious legacy! I am the daughter of the House of Lane!"

With that shocking pronouncement, she wheeled, the gun never leaving its target. Her wild eyes swept over Jason and Kal-El. Her brother remembered the promise they'd made aboard Luthor's yacht, never to turn their backs on each other, the promise that had been strained but not broken on New Year's. She was his Kala again, terrified but determined, and for the instant their gazes locked Jason's heart leapt. A ghost of a smile formed on her lips then. She's still in there. Kal's still there.

It was all happening in slow motion for them. Her father had a moment to remember the way she'd come running to him in that Chinese restaurant so long ago, when he and Lois weren't even getting along, the way she'd leaped into his arms. Even then she'd always trusted him to catch her. And even before either knew she was his daughter, the cashier had remarked, "Daddy's girl?"

In that second, her eyes seemed to speak volumes to both of them. At the same time, the look in them said clearer that words, I love you. I'm sorry. I'm doing this for you.

Before Kal-El or Jason could decipher the meaning of that message, Kala had slapped the panel on the inside of the weapons locker, and the leaded door slammed down between them.

Sealing her inside with Zod and the kryptonite gun.