The Afghan night cast long shadows as the convoy of black SUVs approached the Ten Rings camp. Floodlights cut harsh swaths through the darkness, illuminating Raza as he stood waiting, his scarred face made more grotesque by the stark lighting. His men flanked him, their weapons gleaming dully in the artificial light - their stance speaking of constant combat readiness.
Obadiah Stane emerged from the lead vehicle first, his expensive suit a deeper shadow against the night. From the second SUV, Lionel Luthor stepped out with the careful precision of someone used to boardrooms rather than battlefields. The third vehicle's door opened to reveal John Corbin, his military bearing evident even in civilian clothes. The green glow beneath his shirt pulsed more visibly in the darkness, casting an eerie light across the sand.
"Welcome," Raza greeted them, his burned face twisting into what might have been a smile. "Compliments of Tony Stark." He gestured to his scars.
"If you'd killed him when you were supposed to, you'd still have a face," Stane remarked wryly.
"You paid us trinkets to kill a prince," Raza replied, his eyes moving between Stane and Luthor. "Though your most recent gifts have proved... more interesting. The green rocks your men sought - they affect the alien in Metropolis, yes?"
Corbin stepped forward, his movements carrying an unnatural fluidity that made several of Raza's men tighten their grips on their weapons. The former soldier's hand drifted to his chest where the kryptonite core pulsed steadily. "The kryptonite's properties are beyond your comprehension."
"Perhaps," Raza conceded, studying Corbin with obvious interest. "But we have seen its effects. The way it enhances technology improves weapons. Even your own... improvements, Mr. Corbin. Most impressive."
"Show us the weapon," Luthor interrupted smoothly, his tone carrying that particular blend of authority and menace he'd perfected in corporate takeovers. "We've upheld our end of the arrangement - the kryptonite shipments, the cybernetic blueprints. Now it's time for you to deliver."
"Come," Raza indicated, a slight smile playing at his scarred lips. "Leave your guards outside."
Stane signaled his men to stay put. Corbin moved to follow them into the tent, but Luthor placed a hand on his shoulder. "Monitor the perimeter. Make sure our investment is secure."
Inside the tent, pieces of the Mark I armor had been arranged to give a rough approximation of its original form. The crude steel plates and exposed wiring seemed primitive compared to what their surveillance had shown Stark testing in Malibu, but there was undeniable genius in the design.
"His escape bore unexpected fruit," Raza observed, moving to a table laden with technical drawings and components. "Just as your alien problem has provided unexpected opportunities."
"So this is how he did it," Stane mused, circling the armor. His eyes lingered on the chest piece, noting the empty cavity where the original reactor had sat.
"This is only a first, crude effort," Raza continued. "Stark has perfected his design. He has made a masterpiece of death. A man with a dozen of these could rule all of Asia." His gaze shifted to Luthor. "Just as your enhanced soldier could challenge even Superman himself."
"Corbin is a prototype," Luthor replied carefully. "The integration of kryptonite with cybernetic systems requires... careful calibration."
Outside, a commotion drew their attention. One of Raza's men had made the mistake of approaching Corbin too aggressively. The former soldier's response was immediate and brutal - his arm transformed into a blade with liquid grace, the edge glowing with a sickly green light. The man barely had time to scream before Corbin's enhanced strength sent him flying.
"Most impressive indeed," Raza commented, watching through the tent's opening as his other men backed away from Corbin. "Though perhaps lacking certain... refinements."
"The mineral affects different subjects in different ways," Luthor observed. "Corbin's particular combination of military training and psychological profile made him an ideal candidate for initial testing."
"And now you seek to combine Stark's armor designs with your enhanced soldier program," Raza deduced. "Creating warriors who can stand against not just Superman, but all these emerging threats. We hear things, even in these mountains. Reports of a demon in Gotham, moving through shadows. Stories of people with impossible abilities."
"The world is changing," Stane agreed, still studying the armor. "We need to change with it."
"We have a common enemy," Raza said, seating himself at the table. "If we are still in business, I will give you these designs as a gift. And in turn, I hope you'll repay me with a gift of iron soldiers." He raised a glass in toast.
Stane smiled, the expression never reaching his eyes as he walked up to Raza. His hand came down on the terrorist's shoulder in what appeared to be a friendly gesture. Then came the sound - a shrill, metallic buzzing whine that seemed to cut through the air itself. Small devices in both of Stane's ears glowed softly as he activated the sonic weapon he'd kept concealed in his palm, positioning it precisely at the base of Raza's skull.
Raza gasped, his body going rigid as the paralysis took hold. His eyes widened with the sudden understanding that he had severely miscalculated his position in this negotiation. Stane leaned close, speaking softly in Urdu, "This is the only gift you shall receive."
They watched as Raza's face grew steadily whiter, the terrorist's muscles locked in place by the sonic device's effects. Even Luthor seemed impressed by the elegant simplicity of Stane's betrayal.
"Technology," Stane mused, his tone almost philosophical as he removed the earplugs and pocketed the device. "It has always been your Achilles' heel in this part of the world." He patted Raza's head with the same condescension one might show a particularly slow child. "Don't worry. It'll only last for fifteen minutes." His smile grew colder. "That's the least of your problems."
Outside, more screams erupted as Corbin engaged with the guards who tried to intervene. His cybernetic enhancements, powered by the kryptonite core, made him devastatingly efficient. Arms transformed into blades, synthetic skin flowing like mercury to reveal gleaming metal beneath. The green glow of his power source cast eerie shadows as he moved with inhuman grace.
"Impressive response times," Luthor noted clinically, watching through the tent flap. "Though the aggression levels still need adjustment."
"Your prototype seems more unstable since his encounter with Superman," Stane observed, joining him at the entrance. "The radiation's effects are intensifying."
They watched as Corbin moved through Raza's men with mechanical precision. There was nothing left of the decorated soldier in his movements now - just cold, programmed efficiency enhanced by alien minerals.
"The encounter in Metropolis proved educational," Luthor replied. "The mineral's effects on Kryptonian biology are even more profound than we theorized. And its influence on cybernetic systems..." He gestured at Corbin, who had just transformed both arms into weapons. "The potential applications are beyond anything we initially projected."
"Crate up the armor and everything else," Stane ordered as he emerged fully from the tent. His men were already securing the area, professional and efficient compared to Corbin's more violent methods. "All right, let's finish up here."
"The mineral deposits Raza's men located," Luthor said as they walked toward their vehicles. "They're more extensive than we anticipated. The radiation signatures match what we detected during Superman's fight with Corbin."
"Fragments of a dead world," Stane mused, watching Corbin eliminate another group of guards. "Imagine what we could do with Stark's miniaturization technology combined with your mineral research. An army of enhanced soldiers, each one capable of challenging beings like Superman."
Corbin approached them, his movements unnaturally smooth. The synthetic skin around his face had partially receded, revealing the chrome beneath. "The remaining hostiles have been neutralized," he reported, his voice carrying electronic undertones that hadn't been present before Metropolis. "The mineral stockpile is secure."
"Very good, John," Luthor's tone was carefully neutral. "How are your systems functioning?"
"Operating at peak efficiency," Corbin replied mechanically. Then something flickered in his exposed metal features - a ghost of his former humanity. "The alien... Superman... he represents everything wrong with this world. Power without accountability. Strength without control." His hand transformed into a blade unconsciously. "We need more soldiers like me. Enhanced. Improved. Ready to stand against these self-appointed gods."
"All in good time," Luthor assured him, exchanging a meaningful look with Stane. "The kryptonite's integration with your systems has already exceeded expectations."
Gunfire echoed across the camp as Stane's men finished their cleanup. Corbin's head snapped toward the sound, his enhanced reflexes making the motion almost too fast to follow. The kryptonite core in his chest pulsed brighter.
"Should I eliminate the remaining targets?" he asked, the question carrying no emotion whatsoever.
"That won't be necessary," Stane said smoothly, settling into his SUV. He pulled out his phone, already focusing on the next phase. "Set up Sector 16 underneath the arc reactor," he ordered. "I want this data masked. Recruit our top engineers. I want a prototype right away."
Luthor watched Corbin stride away, the former soldier's movements becoming increasingly mechanical as the kryptonite radiation influenced his systems. Gone was the man who'd once fought for his country - in his place stood a perfect fusion of human drive and alien power, guided by an ever-growing hatred of the being who represented everything he'd lost.
"Perhaps," Luthor mused to himself, "it's time to accelerate Project Metallo as well."
—
Every touch of their tools registered as pure data through my systems - pressure readings, thermal feedback, structural integrity reports. I sat motionless on the reinforced examination platform, letting them work on my exposed chrome skeleton. No need for synthetic skin anymore. No need to pretend at being human. They'd stripped that away along with my flesh, leaving only cold purpose behind.
My cameras tracked Dr. Hamilton's hands as he worked with the new mineral samples. His heart rate was elevated - 132 beats per minute, according to my sensors. Smart man. He understood exactly how dangerous these experiments were. The original green kryptonite had already demonstrated power beyond Earth's physics. Now they wanted to combine it with new variants they barely understood.
"Remarkable," Hamilton muttered, and my audio processors caught every tremor in his voice. "The energy resonance patterns between the variants..."
"Less observation, more progress." Lionel Luthor's voice triggered combat protocols I carefully suppressed. Soon enough, old man. Soon enough. He stood behind the radiation shielding, watching his pet weapon being enhanced. "The mineral synthesis team says these new variants are stable?"
"As stable as we can determine, given their exotic properties." Hamilton adjusted something in my chest that sent cascades of raw data through my circuits. The sensation would have made me gasp, if I still had lungs. "The energy output when they interact is... unprecedented."
The moment they brought the new cores online, power flooded my systems like liquid lightning. The familiar cold burn of green kryptonite mixed with new sensations my mechanical brain struggled to quantify. My original core pulsed in harmony with the additions, creating feedback loops that made my strength readings spike beyond their scales.
"Internal temperature rising," one of the technicians reported. My thermal sensors confirmed - 127 degrees Celsius where the cores interfaced with my synthetic musculature. "The synthetic musculature is adapting to handle the increased power flow, but..."
"But what?" Lionel's voice could have frozen nitrogen.
"The human tissue samples we used as templates... they're not designed for this kind of energy saturation. If the subject's remaining organic components can't handle the strain..."
"The subject can handle it just fine," I interrupted, letting my voice carry pure mechanical certainty. Let them worry about blown circuits and burning synapses. They still thought they were dealing with John Corbin - the broken soldier they'd tried to remake into their chrome puppet. They had no idea what I'd truly become.
Warning klaxons blared as power surged through me. My sensors registered every system redlining as strength levels exceeded their measuring capacity. I felt the examination platform groan under my weight as enhanced muscles tensed involuntarily. So much power. More than they'd ever intended to give me.
"My god," Hamilton breathed, staring at readings that shouldn't have been possible. "The cores are amplifying each other exponentially. This level of power..."
"Is exactly what we need," Lionel finished, satisfaction dripping from every word. He turned to where his son stood silently by the door. "Your concerns about 'system instability' seem rather shortsighted now, don't they son?"
My enhanced senses caught Lex's micro-expressions - the slight tightening around his eyes, the barely perceptible clench of his jaw. The younger Luthor had argued against this upgrade, not out of concern for me, but from cold pragmatism about unleashing power they couldn't fully control. Smart boy. Shame he took after his father in all the wrong ways.
"The readings are impressive," Lex replied carefully. "Though the long-term effects of exposure to multiple core variants remain unknown."
"Always so cautious." Lionel's voice carried that particular tone that made his son's pulse spike slightly. "Your sister was the same way. Always wanting to understand things instead of simply using them."
The temperature in the lab seemed to drop ten degrees. I recorded how Lex's hands tightened into fists before forcibly relaxing. Filed away another piece of the puzzle that was the Luthor family's carefully hidden dysfunction. More ammunition for when the time came.
"Run the weapons test," Lionel ordered. "Let's see what our friend can really do now."
The command activated combat protocols that felt both foreign and natural. My arm transformed with liquid grace, plates shifting to channel power that made the air itself taste of ozone. The three cores pulsed in my chest, their different colored light mixing into something that hurt human eyes to look at directly.
When I fired, the blast exceeded even my predictions. The reinforced target wall didn't just break - it ceased to exist, along with the three barriers behind it. By the time the energy dissipated, I was staring through a perfectly circular hole that went clear to the outer containment shell. Raw destructive potential that made my old military ordinance look like firecrackers.
"Holy shit," one of the technicians whispered, then immediately looked terrified at having spoken.
Lionel's smile was all teeth. "Now that's more like it. The alien won't know what hit him."
Superman. My sensors still registered phantom pain from our last encounter - the punch that had torn away my pretense of humanity, that had shown me exactly what I'd become. But now... now I had power that could actually challenge a god. The thought made my cores pulse stronger.
"The power consumption was far beyond projected levels," Hamilton reported, his scientific excitement warring with clear unease. "The cores are producing some kind of amplification effect we didn't anticipate. The raw output alone..."
"Is precisely what we need," Lionel cut him off. "Sometimes progress requires embracing the unknown, wouldn't you agree?" The question was directed at Lex, carrying layers of meaning that made my targeting systems flag potential hostile intent.
"Progress without understanding is just accidentally not dying," Lex replied quietly. "A lesson some of us learned young."
I caught the slight flinch Lex couldn't quite suppress as Lionel moved toward him. Cataloged how the younger Luthor's stance shifted unconsciously to protect his left side. Old habits born from old pain. More data for future use.
But watching Lionel prepare another "lesson" for his son triggered something in my remaining organic components - an echo of the protective instinct that had once made me a good soldier. "When do we begin active field testing?" I kept my voice pure machine, betraying none of the satisfaction I felt at interrupting whatever was about to occur. "These power levels require practical combat data to properly calibrate."
The distraction worked. Lionel turned back to his weapon, ambition overwhelming whatever disciplinary impulse he'd been about to indulge. "Soon. Very soon. Though first we need to run more controlled trials. The mineral variants' effects on Superman are still theoretical - we need to understand exactly what we're working with."
I remained perfectly still as they discussed me like a particularly interesting specimen. Let them theorize about radiation effects and power outputs. Let them run their tests and gather their data. Every moment gave me more understanding of my new capabilities. Every trial helped me learn exactly what I could do with this unprecedented power.
My chrome fingers flexed slightly, servos whining with enhanced strength. My cameras recorded every detail - Lionel's proud smile, Lex's carefully controlled expression, how the technicians flinched at my every movement. They thought they'd created the perfect weapon. None of them understood that weapons could choose their own targets.
"Your neural patterns are showing some unusual activity," Hamilton noted, studying one of his screens. "Nothing concerning, but we should probably run some additional diagnostic..."
"That won't be necessary," I cut him off. "My systems are operating at optimal efficiency. The mission parameters are clear."
"You see?" Lionel's voice carried that particular pride that made my cores burn colder. "Perfect focus. Perfect clarity of purpose."
If he only knew. Every word of praise, every proud gesture, just added fuel to the rage burning inside me. They thought they'd eliminated my humanity? They'd just given me perfect clarity about exactly how I was going to use this power.
First a rematch with Superman - a real fight, now that I had strength that could actually challenge him. All pretenses of being human eliminated so that I could focus solely in spraying the blood of this so-called God all over the floor of his precious city. And then... then I'd show Lionel Luthor exactly what happened when you gave a weapon a mind of its own.
But for now, I sat motionless as they ran their tests. My chrome features betrayed nothing as they measured and calibrated. The cores pulsed in my chest with steady rhythm, their combined power becoming more familiar with each passing moment.
Let them think they'd created their perfect soldier. Soon enough they'd learn what true power meant.
In what remained of my human consciousness, I smiled. Everything was proceeding exactly as planned.
The monster they'd made was finally ready to show its teeth.