EXT. LUTHORCORP PRIVATE AIRLINE – NIGHT
On the outskirts of Metropolis International Airport is the LuthorCorp Private Airline. A converted military base, it is made up of four large hangars all in a row, each one slightly smaller than the one to its immediate right. Behind them stands a well-lit tower, twice the size of the tallest hangar. The Metropolis city skyline serves as the backdrop, a slight fog very near the ground making it appear as if the buildings themselves were hovering in mid-air. A security fence, with barbed wire wrapped around the top rungs, surrounds the airline.
Clark Kent stands strong just outside the perimeter of the fence, staring intently at the hangars within. Adorning all dark green and black camouflage hunting gear, his face is painted black and his hair is slicked straight back. At this time of night, if not for the well lit runways, it would be almost impossible to see him if you weren't looking for him.
Taking a breath, Clark clenches his jaw and raises his hands up, clutching several rungs in the fence. Instead of simply climbing over, however, he turns at the hip and yanks an entire section out of the ground. He effortlessly hurls it to the side and starts walking toward the hangars.
Picking up the pace, he super speeds passed the hangars to the base of the tower. Scanning it briefly with his X-Ray vision, he sees two people inside. He opens the door and enters the tower.
INT. LUTHORCORP PRIVATE AIRLINE – TOWER CONTROL ROOM
Inside the LuthorCorp Private Airline Tower, two overworked LuthorCorp employees, Dumont and Kraznick, enjoy Starbucks coffee and some donuts.
DUMONT You know, Z, the graveyard shift ain't that bad when you really think about it. I mean, sure, there's not always a lot to do, but at least the pay's pretty good.
Kraznick laughs before spilling what's left of his coffee all over his shirt as the door to the control room explodes off its hinges. Clark stares vacantly at the two men from the doorway.
DUMONT Holy...!
Before they even have time to get up out of their chairs, Clark zig-zags his way between the various computer consoles and radar screens, scooping them up onto his shoulders like a couple sacks of potatoes. Amidst their protests, he hops up onto a radar display and leaps out the glass window overlooking the hangars, shattering it in the process.
EXT. LUTHORCORP PRIVATE AIRLINE – NIGHT
Cracks form in the pavement around his feet as Clark lands near the base of the tower, all at once dropping the men on their backs. Turning over, they each look up at him and he down at them.
CLARK
Run away.
Dumont and Kraznick waste little time getting to their feet, making a mad dash in the opposite direction.
DUMONT
The pay ain't 'that' good!
Satisfied, Clark turns around and looks up at the tower. Surveying it carefully, he bends down. Cupping his hands, he drives his fingers into the stone base and begins to lift, tearing the tower clear out of the ground.
The massive structure groans into the wind as it begins to tip over. Sparks fly as the lights in the tower flicker out and it careens toward one of the middle two hangars. As the tower smashes through the hangar, a fireball of hideous proportions explodes in all directions, igniting the adjacent two hangars. Just for good measure, Clark uses his heat vision to set the final hangar ablaze as well.
An alarm sounds...
Clark walks between two of the burning hangars as LuthorCorp employees come pouring out of the hangar doors, running for their very lives. Giving them a brief glance as they flee, he then turns his attention downward, using his X-Ray vision to spy for the extent of the underground facility. Through the paved runway, he can see an entire assembly line of machines laid out all in a row. Several workers can also be seen scurrying toward emergency lifts from the underground factory floor.
Lifting up his closed fists up over his head, Clark prepares to slam them down on the ground.
INT. LUTHORCORP SECRET UNDERGROUND FACILITY
Two security guards lead a cavalcade of workers in an evacuation of the facility when.
SECURITY GUARD I This way! Come on! Move!
All at once, an explosion from above sends the guards hurling themselves out of the way as chunks of rock and cement, among other things, comes pouring down from the ceiling. Amidst the falling boulders is Clark, and once again the ground breaks as he hits the factory floor.
Coughing up bits of dust, the guards are quick to their feet, drawing their side arms on Clark.
SECURITY GUARD II Freeze!
SECURITY GUARD I Don't move!
Clark turns around to face them, standing firm.
CLARK ::calmly:: Get out.
SECURITY GUARD I Put your hands above your head, now!
Clark takes a single step toward them before the skittish pair opens fire. Moving faster than the human eye can see, Clark catches their bullets in his hands as effortlessly as if they had taken them from their guns and simply tossed them over to him.
Click... Click... They empty their cartridges on him.
The two guards watch him in awed silence as Clark puts his hands together, squeezes them, and drops the wad of bullets to the ground in front of him. Their weapons still pointed at him, he uses his heat vision on the guns, forcing the guards to drop them or burn their hands against the red hot metal.
CLARK
::calmly:: Now, get out.
Unlike before, the guards are more than happy to oblige him, darting for the nearest exit lift.
Clark now turns his attention on the machine assembly line. Not even bothering to check what in fact is being made in the factory, he instead looks for the most efficient means of destroying them. Walking all the way back to the far end of the factory floor, he takes a deep breath, purses his lips together, and exhales a wintry gust of sub-zero air. It only takes him a few short seconds to freeze the entire line of machines.
Nodding, he lifts his right fist above his head and slams it down on the ground. A thunderous boom rings out, sending a literal shockwave through the entire factory floor. The frozen machines, brittle from the cold, are shaken to pieces and crumble into useless piles of rubble.
Taking a moment to survey the damage, Clark steps over to one of the final machines in the assembly line where he finds what's left of what appears to be a small jet engine of some kind, much too small for a plane. Holding the frozen part in his hands, he uses his X-Ray vision to survey the rest of the factory floor when something peculiar about a near wall catches his attention. There's a room behind the wall, but no apparent means of entering it.
Clenching his fists, Clark shatters the small frozen engine in his hands and starts walking toward the wall.
This dimly lit room is surrounded on all sides by a solid wall. There are no doors, no windows, no clear way of any kind to get in or out. The only illumination comes from a single computer, and its massive viewing screen, that takes up most of the room.
Stone and brick explode inward as Clark punches his way through the wall and into the room, making his own entrance. Carefully, he steps inside and over the rubble. It is only a split second before he turns his attention to the computer and its view screen. His eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly as he looks up at the image on the screen.
The screen shows a map of the continental United States with several red lights, presumably representing cities. There are at least thirty such lights, each with a name next to them.
CLARK ::reading:: Metropolis, Gotham, New York City, Chicago, Coast...
No longer calm, a streak of furious rage boils inside of him and he takes his frustration out on the computer in front of him, tearing it apart like it was made of tissue paper. Storming back through the hole he created in the wall, he lets out a scream, slamming his fist through a steel support beam.
EXT. METROPOLIS INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT – NIGHT
The view from the Metropolis International Airport is spectacular as the entire LuthorCorp Private Airline sinks into the ground, a mighty blaze of fire all that's left in its wake.
As Clark observes the scene from afar, he throws his fists into the air and shouts out the name of his pain...
CLARK
Darkseid!
On the outskirts of Metropolis International Airport is the LuthorCorp Private Airline. A converted military base, it is made up of four large hangars all in a row, each one slightly smaller than the one to its immediate right. Behind them stands a well-lit tower, twice the size of the tallest hangar. The Metropolis city skyline serves as the backdrop, a slight fog very near the ground making it appear as if the buildings themselves were hovering in mid-air. A security fence, with barbed wire wrapped around the top rungs, surrounds the airline.
Clark Kent stands strong just outside the perimeter of the fence, staring intently at the hangars within. Adorning all dark green and black camouflage hunting gear, his face is painted black and his hair is slicked straight back. At this time of night, if not for the well lit runways, it would be almost impossible to see him if you weren't looking for him.
Taking a breath, Clark clenches his jaw and raises his hands up, clutching several rungs in the fence. Instead of simply climbing over, however, he turns at the hip and yanks an entire section out of the ground. He effortlessly hurls it to the side and starts walking toward the hangars.
Picking up the pace, he super speeds passed the hangars to the base of the tower. Scanning it briefly with his X-Ray vision, he sees two people inside. He opens the door and enters the tower.
INT. LUTHORCORP PRIVATE AIRLINE – TOWER CONTROL ROOM
Inside the LuthorCorp Private Airline Tower, two overworked LuthorCorp employees, Dumont and Kraznick, enjoy Starbucks coffee and some donuts.
DUMONT You know, Z, the graveyard shift ain't that bad when you really think about it. I mean, sure, there's not always a lot to do, but at least the pay's pretty good.
Kraznick laughs before spilling what's left of his coffee all over his shirt as the door to the control room explodes off its hinges. Clark stares vacantly at the two men from the doorway.
DUMONT Holy...!
Before they even have time to get up out of their chairs, Clark zig-zags his way between the various computer consoles and radar screens, scooping them up onto his shoulders like a couple sacks of potatoes. Amidst their protests, he hops up onto a radar display and leaps out the glass window overlooking the hangars, shattering it in the process.
EXT. LUTHORCORP PRIVATE AIRLINE – NIGHT
Cracks form in the pavement around his feet as Clark lands near the base of the tower, all at once dropping the men on their backs. Turning over, they each look up at him and he down at them.
CLARK
Run away.
Dumont and Kraznick waste little time getting to their feet, making a mad dash in the opposite direction.
DUMONT
The pay ain't 'that' good!
Satisfied, Clark turns around and looks up at the tower. Surveying it carefully, he bends down. Cupping his hands, he drives his fingers into the stone base and begins to lift, tearing the tower clear out of the ground.
The massive structure groans into the wind as it begins to tip over. Sparks fly as the lights in the tower flicker out and it careens toward one of the middle two hangars. As the tower smashes through the hangar, a fireball of hideous proportions explodes in all directions, igniting the adjacent two hangars. Just for good measure, Clark uses his heat vision to set the final hangar ablaze as well.
An alarm sounds...
Clark walks between two of the burning hangars as LuthorCorp employees come pouring out of the hangar doors, running for their very lives. Giving them a brief glance as they flee, he then turns his attention downward, using his X-Ray vision to spy for the extent of the underground facility. Through the paved runway, he can see an entire assembly line of machines laid out all in a row. Several workers can also be seen scurrying toward emergency lifts from the underground factory floor.
Lifting up his closed fists up over his head, Clark prepares to slam them down on the ground.
INT. LUTHORCORP SECRET UNDERGROUND FACILITY
Two security guards lead a cavalcade of workers in an evacuation of the facility when.
SECURITY GUARD I This way! Come on! Move!
All at once, an explosion from above sends the guards hurling themselves out of the way as chunks of rock and cement, among other things, comes pouring down from the ceiling. Amidst the falling boulders is Clark, and once again the ground breaks as he hits the factory floor.
Coughing up bits of dust, the guards are quick to their feet, drawing their side arms on Clark.
SECURITY GUARD II Freeze!
SECURITY GUARD I Don't move!
Clark turns around to face them, standing firm.
CLARK ::calmly:: Get out.
SECURITY GUARD I Put your hands above your head, now!
Clark takes a single step toward them before the skittish pair opens fire. Moving faster than the human eye can see, Clark catches their bullets in his hands as effortlessly as if they had taken them from their guns and simply tossed them over to him.
Click... Click... They empty their cartridges on him.
The two guards watch him in awed silence as Clark puts his hands together, squeezes them, and drops the wad of bullets to the ground in front of him. Their weapons still pointed at him, he uses his heat vision on the guns, forcing the guards to drop them or burn their hands against the red hot metal.
CLARK
::calmly:: Now, get out.
Unlike before, the guards are more than happy to oblige him, darting for the nearest exit lift.
Clark now turns his attention on the machine assembly line. Not even bothering to check what in fact is being made in the factory, he instead looks for the most efficient means of destroying them. Walking all the way back to the far end of the factory floor, he takes a deep breath, purses his lips together, and exhales a wintry gust of sub-zero air. It only takes him a few short seconds to freeze the entire line of machines.
Nodding, he lifts his right fist above his head and slams it down on the ground. A thunderous boom rings out, sending a literal shockwave through the entire factory floor. The frozen machines, brittle from the cold, are shaken to pieces and crumble into useless piles of rubble.
Taking a moment to survey the damage, Clark steps over to one of the final machines in the assembly line where he finds what's left of what appears to be a small jet engine of some kind, much too small for a plane. Holding the frozen part in his hands, he uses his X-Ray vision to survey the rest of the factory floor when something peculiar about a near wall catches his attention. There's a room behind the wall, but no apparent means of entering it.
Clenching his fists, Clark shatters the small frozen engine in his hands and starts walking toward the wall.
This dimly lit room is surrounded on all sides by a solid wall. There are no doors, no windows, no clear way of any kind to get in or out. The only illumination comes from a single computer, and its massive viewing screen, that takes up most of the room.
Stone and brick explode inward as Clark punches his way through the wall and into the room, making his own entrance. Carefully, he steps inside and over the rubble. It is only a split second before he turns his attention to the computer and its view screen. His eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly as he looks up at the image on the screen.
The screen shows a map of the continental United States with several red lights, presumably representing cities. There are at least thirty such lights, each with a name next to them.
CLARK ::reading:: Metropolis, Gotham, New York City, Chicago, Coast...
No longer calm, a streak of furious rage boils inside of him and he takes his frustration out on the computer in front of him, tearing it apart like it was made of tissue paper. Storming back through the hole he created in the wall, he lets out a scream, slamming his fist through a steel support beam.
EXT. METROPOLIS INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT – NIGHT
The view from the Metropolis International Airport is spectacular as the entire LuthorCorp Private Airline sinks into the ground, a mighty blaze of fire all that's left in its wake.
As Clark observes the scene from afar, he throws his fists into the air and shouts out the name of his pain...
CLARK
Darkseid!