Clark had made Lois too angry to visit again, and he told himself he wasn't expecting her to as the days turned into weeks. He supposed she was still too touchy about her failed marriage.

He snorted. Marriage was for the dreamers. A spouse just sucked your bank account dry while familiarity built contempt. That's why he didn't have any ex-wives. Tess was his longest relationship only because she was family and didn't believe in foolish notions like love either. Love was an illusion to ensure survival of the species, hormones and the innate psychological need to produce heirs, as if that was even possible for him, was behind what he was feeling for Lois. It would fade with time. But knowing all that, didn't keep him from hurting at her absence.

And his dark heart gave a little leap when the guard told him he had a visitor one day. It wasn't her though. In fact, he wasn't quite sure who it was. She was old enough to be his mother. She had graying red hair and a gentle appearance. She looked on him with kindness as he took a seat.

"Do I know you?" he asked as he picked up the phone.

"I was a friend of your father's. My name is Martha Kent."

"Ah." A mistress then. "Any friend of his is no friend of mine."

"I know what you're thinking, and it wasn't like that. My husband and I offered a ride to him the day he found you. Your brother needed medical attention because the meteor blast had made him lose his hair. We often saw each other around Smallville after that, and I always asked after you boys."

"Funny. He never mentioned you," he returned coldy, still not getting why this older woman was here.

"Maybe not, but he was grateful for our help, so much so that he named you after me."

"Excuse me?"

"Clark is my maiden name. I guess that small thing makes me feel a bit like your godmother."

"What are you going to do? Wave your magic wand and turn my jailer into a pumpkin?"

"No. I just thought you might want to talk. I already pray for you, but I'd also gladly pray with you."

Clark laughed. Was this woman truly serious? "Do you know the things I've done?"

"I know. I remember how lonely and lost you looked after you lost your mother. You were just a tiny thing. I was at the funeral, and I offered words of consolation to your family, but I wish I'd reached out to you then. I suspected that Lionel might have been neglectful to his children, but I didn't do anything about it. No one did."

He was just puzzled now. "And you think if you'd tried harder, I wouldn't have gone down my chosen path?"

"Maybe you would have. Lionel was quite powerful, or maybe you and your siblings would have been placed in a loving foster home. We'll never know, and that's my cross to bear. I'm here though if you need or want a friend if it means anything now."

He wanted to come back with sharp words, but he couldn't quite manage to put a bite into his tone. She was just so sincere about it that it touched a place in him that he didn't think could be touched anymore. "Thanks, but if you want to pray for somebody, pray for the families of those I killed. I don't need or want your prayers."

sss

The day of his trial came. The only other visitor he'd received was his lawyer, who built as good a case as one could when whether or not he'd did it couldn't be called into question. He pulled at the handcuffs as they walked down the hallway. He was as well and truly powerless as the day the serum was first administered, but it never hurt to check.

Lois was in the courtroom. He noticed it at once, and they made eye contact from across the room.

Had she gotten more beautiful or was it just that long since he'd been laid? So many emotions crossed her face that it was hard for him to read and then she turned away from him.

The case got underway with the typical remarks from both sides. His lawyer intended to prove that the killings were done under the influence without his full mental faculties, which would still result in a penalty, but would be less harsh than it could be and give him time to work on his freedom. And the other side would work to see that he got charges of the first degree.

He was called to the stand first by the prosecuting attorney. "Where were you on the night of June 19th, 2005?"

"I was at Smallville High."

"Why? You didn't attend school there, did you?"

"No. I was there to take care of the meteor freak problem."

"Care to elaborate, Mr. Luthor, for those not familiar with Smallville terms and history?"

"In 1989, there was a meteor shower, the meteors gave powers to some of the exposed and sometimes still do, kids mostly. And it seemed to often be accompanied by mental illness."

"You left out that you, an alien, arrived with this shower. One might say you were the cause of the unfortunate mutations."

"Objection, your honor," his lawyer cried. "He is trying to blame an act of God on my client."

"Sustained. The jury will disregard. Proceed counsel."

"And how did you take care of this problem as you label it?"

"By ending their lives." There were a few gasps and cries, which he found annoying. It's not like they didn't know why he was here. Maybe it was his emotionless statement of the facts they took exception with.

"And how did you accomplish that?"

"With my heat vision."

"With your heat vision. Again, I must ask you to expand on your answer for those unfamiliar with your powers and explain how it was capable of killing."

"I create intense heat from my eyes like a laser. It burned and cut through them. It was quick if not painless."

"How did it make you feel?"

"Relieved they were no longer a threat. Proud I had achieved it swiftly and effortlessly."

"No remorse then for your actions, Mr. Luthor?"

"Remorse that I so quickly did things my father's way. It was at his behest."

"No further questions your honor."

His lawyer came up next. "Is it true that some of your victims were, in fact, killers or want-to-be killers themselves?"

"Objection. It is not the victims on trial," the prosecuting attorney said.

"Overruled. I will allow the question."

"They were. In fact, my father used this as part of his argument on why they were dangerous and why they needed taking care of. They shouldn't have been allowed to graduate."

"And when your father set you with this task, did you hesitate?"

"I did. I had never killed so many. Only one, also a meteor freak by the way."

"How was this reluctance to kill overcome?"

"In both instances, my father gave me a ring set with red kryptonite."

"And how does red kryptonite make you feel?"

"Like I can do anything."

"While effected by this substance, can you make informed decisions?"

"No. I act on impulse. I find myself incapable of thinking of the future or the ramification of my actions. Nor can I find myself caring."

"And the power you mention having, heat vision, do you still have it?"

"I am as human as someone born on another planet can be."

"So then you would no longer be able to kill in similar conditions?"

"No."

"And you'd be vulnerable to retaliation, a simple bullet for instance?"

"Yes."

"So you wouldn't no longer be a threat?"

He looked at Oliver, who despite their separation, was at Lois' side holding her hand. He would rip him apart, powers or no powers, for this public humiliation he was subjecting him to. "I'm about as dangerous as a declawed cat." If the cat was a tiger.

Chloe as the only living eyewitness to his deeds that day was called to the stand next. He didn't know how her testimony was permissible after attempting to murder him though no doubt Oliver and Lois had covered up that little unpleasantness for her, making them rather hypocritical.

He could hear his father's voice say that he should have finished what he started that night and found a way to kill her. Perhaps he should have, and he couldn't really answer why he hadn't. Too cocky? A modicum of pity? Lane's wrath? Sometimes he was a mystery even to himself.

"Can you tell the court, in your own words, the events of that day as you remember them?"

Chloe turned on the waterworks and told the events with style. There may have been a bit of a writer somewhere in her though not quite of Lois' caliber.

"It was supposed to be a happy day. And then he was there, Clark Luthor. Everyone was surprised as he normally kept to himself, but it soon became apparent why he was there. Alicia Baker was his first victim. She had a crush on him and came up to introduce herself, and he killed her in cold blood before she could get a word out. People screamed and ran different directions. We all tried to hide as useless as it was, locking ourselves up in different rooms throughout the school."

She had to take a few moments to collect herself, and the prosecuting attorney told her kindly, "Take your time, Ms. Sullivan."

"I didn't see much more until afterward, but I heard the screams. They hardly stopped, but the quiet was even worse. There were pools of blood all over the hallway spilling out from the rooms; it was literally a blood bath. I saw some of the blood on his hands as I hid under the desk in fear of my life, wondering what I'd done to deserve this, wishing I could remove my power."

"What saved you from being yet another of his numerous victims?"

"A graduation present from my friend, Lana Lang, a green kryptonite necklace. It makes him weak and powerless in its presence."

"Do you think Clark Luthor experienced any remorse over the horrific killings?"

"He enjoyed it. I heard him taunting some of them before and after their deaths. It was a game to him. He actually played Marco Polo in the hallway, calling out Marco and saying Polo when he found them."

His lawyer didn't even try to poke holes in her damning testimony, which may have been for the best. Instead, he called up someone else.

"I'd like to call Lois Lane to the stand." So she wasn't just here as a reporter. She was a character witness.

She was sworn in and asked, "Please state your name for the record."

"Lois Lane." He felt doomed with just those two words. She hated his guts. What could his attorney be thinking?

"How do you know, Mr. Clark Luthor?"

"I work for him or I did. I'm a journalist at LuthorMedia."

"How long have you been employed there?"

"Five years."

"And how many of those years have you spent employed by Mr. Luthor?"

"Three."

He supposed it had been that long, and they had spent most of that time fighting like cats and dogs. It was only recently their relationship had take a sexual undertone sparked by the knowledge there was a world where they'd gotten together.

"And did you ever in that time feel threatened by Mr. Luthor?"

And there it was, the inculpatory words would follow. It was off to the gallows or the electric chair or however it was Kansasians were executing prisoners these days.

She gave that question thought. "I suppose because one hears things about Ultraman, but as Clark Luthor, no. I used to think Clark Luthor was the mask hiding Ultraman, but now I believe it's Ultraman that is the disguise."

"Can you explain that, Ms. Lane?"

"I believe Ultraman was a creation of Lionel Luthor, a puppet if you will, made through the substance known as red kryptonite and also years of traumatic abuse and manipulation. It was what he hoped for his son to be, a killing machine to further LuthorCorp's empire."

"Interesting. Thank you for your time, Ms. Lane. That's all the questions I have."

The judge asked the prosecuting attorney if he'd like to cross-examine the witness, and of course, he did.

"Let me ask for clarification, you think Ultraman should be the one on trial today?" the man questioned, garnering nervous chuckles from those in attendance.

"No, I think Lionel Luthor should be on trial here today."

"I see, so you don't think the defendant ever made a conscious decision to kill on his own?"

"I just find it worthy of note that Clark Luthor has never known been known to bloody his hands. Hurt someone no doubt, but he killed only in his Ultraman suit, and when Ultraman began to do good deeds, he didn't want to take the credit for that either as if to distance himself from the character of Ultraman. I'm no psychologist, but-"

"No, Ms. Lane, you're not."

"I'm giving you my perceptions of him as honestly as I can, and when Clark Luthor is confronted with the opportunity to kill, he may talk a big game, but he wavers as if he doesn't really want to go through with it."

"You've given us a very personal narrative for a man who is your boss. Remembering you are under oath, can you explain how you came by the knowledge of his exposure to kryptonite and abuse?"

"He told me."

"He told you? Are you aware of Clark's many sexual liaisons?"

"I am," she answered, turning red.

"Are you one of them?"

"We have never had sex in this lifetime."

He smiled at her phrasing, honest to a fault, as there was another world where the answer might not have been strictly true if she'd left that last part off.

"But you feel something for the defendant?"

"I do. It's called human compassion. Heard of it?"

"I have. I've also learned you have been seen on dates with Mr. Luthor. I just wonder if that might have colored your testimony."

"They were all business dinners."

"No further questions."

She'd tried to help and that surprised him, but she no doubt thought she was just being honest.

Psychologists were called up. Even one of the scientists testified that red kryptonite did indeed remove any moral or social judgment or thought to the consequences in the same way that heavy drink or drugs would, but it didn't make the subject do anything they didn't want to do at their core. It was a fair assessment of how it felt to be in contact with red k. Pictures of the crime scene were produced as evidence.

Parents of the victims testified. They were angels taken too soon, but weren't they always in these situations? He rolled his eyes as they painted pictures of the teens, who were always pleasant and devoted to their families with bright futures ahead of them. White-washed memories of not so perfect people is what they were.

One mother affected him though. "Jodi was my world, my only child. He took her from me."

"Isn't it true that your daughter spent time in Bell Reve Sanitarium for the murder of Dustin Crenshaw?" his lawyer asked.

"She had her power under control!" her mother said hysterically, making him cringe for her. "She made it through senior year back at Smallville High, and she never hurt another soul. She even became a vegetarian."

"Too late for Dustin though, didn't she?"

"Those kids at Smallville High teased her mercilessly about her weight, and wanting to fit in, she mistakenly ate some meteor-infected vegetables. She had to ingest fat. She couldn't control the hunger until they found a way to reverse it, and Dustin was cruel to her."

He even started feeling sympathy for Jodi. That had never happened to him before, feeling compassion for a victim. The ones he killed were meaningless, people who got in the way of Ultraman, but hearing her talk about her and seeing the tears fall from her mother's eyes made him squirm. Maybe there was something to what Lois said about him emotionally dividing Clark Luthor from Ultraman, but the two sides of himself were meeting now, and he didn't like the crushing weight he was feeling. Was this guilt?

Both lawyers gave their closing statements. He wasn't really listening. He wasn't even sure what he hoped from this trial anymore. He just wanted it to be over.

The recess for the jury to make their decision was short, and he listened as the judge gave his sentencing. "The jury has found you guilty of the murders of Justin Gaines, Eric Summers, Ryan James, Alicia Baker, Trent MacGowen, Tim Westcott, Jodi Melville, Tina Greer, Sean Kelvin, and Greg Arkin. I've been on the bench for twenty-four years, and the photos of the bodies that were produced as evidence will haunt me for the rest of my life. It is not the recommendation of this court to seek the death penalty in light of the influence that the kryptonite played in the beginning, I am sentencing you to ten life sentences for murder of the first degree without possibility of parole. It is my hope that this serves as an example and warning to other beings from other worlds who may arrive on Earth that the laws of our planet are to be honored and upheld whatever powers they may possess."