Clark's movements were slower than usual as he soared above Metropolis, the morning sun offering little comfort. The weight of his conversation with Lois still pressed against his chest. Her face when he'd finally revealed everything, shock giving way to hurt, then that terrible distance as she'd asked for time to process. Now, barely twenty-four hours later, chaos was erupting in the city they both called home.
Police frequencies crackled with urgent reports through his enhanced hearing - streets being evacuated, SWAT teams mobilizing, hospitals preparing for potential casualties. But beneath the organized panic, he caught fragments of a mechanical voice that made his stomach turn: "Superman... time to finish... what we started..."
The Daily Planet's iconic globe came into view, and Clark's heart clenched painfully. Not just because Metallo stood atop the building like some chrome demon, but because he knew Lois was inside - the woman he loved, who now knew exactly what he was, probably watching this unfold with that mix of professional focus and personal worry that made her uniquely herself. Her heartbeat was steady but faster than normal, a rhythm he'd memorized during countless nights of pretending to sleep beside her. Now those quiet moments felt like memories from another life.
"I wondered if you'd have the courage to face me again!" Metallo's voice boomed across the morning air, mechanical undertones more pronounced than in their last encounter. His restored synthetic skin gleamed unnaturally in the sunlight, but what made Clark's vision blur wasn't just his appearance - it was the sickly green glow pulsing from his chest, mixed now with rays of electric blue and deep crimson that seemed to ripple through his frame like liquid lightning. "Or were you too busy playing house with your reporter?"
Clark touched down on a neighboring rooftop, fighting to project calm authority despite how the enhanced radiation was already affecting him. Through the building's walls, he could see the Planet's newsroom evacuating - but Lois remained at her desk, fingers flying across her keyboard even as Perry tried to get her to leave. Some things never changed, even when everything else had.
"John." Clark kept his voice steady, fighting down waves of nausea as radiation poured off his opponent. "Listen to me. Whatever Luthor's done, whatever they told you—we can still fix this."
"Fix this?" The laugh that came from Metallo didn't belong in any human throat. He tapped his chest, the sound ringing metallically across the morning air. "Like the VA doctors were going to fix me? Like those fancy prosthetics were going to make me whole?" His chest plate split open with a soft hiss, revealing three crystals arranged in a triangle. Green, blue, and red light pulsed together, making Clark's vision swim. "Look at me, Superman. Really look. They didn't just fix me—they made me better."
The radiation patterns were unlike anything Clark had encountered before, each core's energy somehow amplifying the others. He tried to focus past the growing weakness in his limbs. "You were a soldier, John. A good man. This isn't you—"
"A good man?" Metallo's mechanical eyes tracked him with terrible precision. "That's rich, coming from you. The great Superman, champion of truth and justice... hiding behind a pair of dollar store glasses and a press badge." His lips curved in a smile that belonged in nightmares. "Did you think no one would figure it out? That no one would see past Clark Kent's careful little act?"
Ice formed in Clark's stomach. The casual way Metallo said his name made it clear—this wasn't just a lucky guess or a taunt.
"You should thank Luthor, really." Metallo gestured at his eyes. "These new sensors... they see everything. Every microexpression, every controlled movement, every time you pull your strength back to seem normal." He took a step forward, radiation flaring brighter. "Do you know how pathetic it looks? Watching you hunch your shoulders in that newsroom, playing at being human? Making up excuses every time the world needs saving?"
Clark heard Lois's heart skip behind him in the Planet offices. Just yesterday, he'd finally told her everything. The pain and betrayal in her eyes still haunted him.
"But here's what I really want to know." Metallo's voice dropped lower, almost intimate. "Behind all that power, behind the cape and the speeches about hope... what are you really? Because I'll tell you what I see—a lost little alien, left in a field by parents who couldn't wait to get rid of him." His mechanical features twisted in mock sympathy. "Did the Kents keep you out of pity? Or were they just afraid of what would happen if they turned you away?"
Memories of the Fortress hit Clark like physical blows—Jor-El and Lara's final message, their love and sacrifice captured in crystal. The weight of a dead world's hopes, preserved in ice and memory. But he couldn't explain that to Metallo, couldn't make him understand what it meant to be the last son of Krypton.
Through the building's walls, he saw Lois stand up from her desk. She wasn't running like the others—instead, she moved closer to the window, phone already recording. Even after learning the truth about him, even with their relationship hanging by a thread, she was still trying to tell his story. The thought gave him strength even as it broke his heart.
"The people in these buildings," Clark forced himself to focus on what mattered. Below, families were still evacuating, children crying as their parents hurried them to safety. "They're innocent, John. Whatever you have against me—"
"Innocent?" Something changed in Metallo's voice, any trace of humanity bleeding away into pure machine rage. Panels slid open across his frame like petals of some mechanical flower, each one revealing weapons that hummed with that sickly tri-colored energy. "You want to talk to me about innocent people? Where were you when my unit was pinned down outside Kandahar? While real soldiers – real humans – were bleeding out in the sand?" His targeting systems whirred as they locked on, the sound unnaturally loud in the morning air. "Too busy playing hero in Metropolis, I guess. Saving cats from trees while better men died."
Inside the Planet, Lois had her phone up, recording everything. Clark could see the subtle tremor in her hands, the way her jaw clenched – little tells he'd memorized over months of pretending to be just another reporter beside her. She was trying to maintain professional distance, but he knew her too well. The woman who'd fallen asleep in his arms just yesterday was warring with the reporter who'd just learned her partner, her lover, had been lying to her face for years.
"You think you've won something here, John?" Clark kept his voice steady despite how the radiation made his vision blur. "Think knowing who I am gives you some kind of power?"
"Power?" Metallo's laugh was all wrong now, gears grinding where warmth should be. "I don't need to expose you, Superman. Your lies are doing that job just fine." His chrome features twisted into something that might have been a smile on human face. "Look at her – the great Lois Lane, finally seeing the truth about her alien boyfriend. How's that feel, by the way? Finding out the man you trusted, the one you let into your bed, isn't even human?"
Clark saw Lois flinch almost imperceptibly. But her grip on her phone stayed steady, her reporter's instincts winning out over personal pain. She'd asked for time to process everything, but time was a luxury they didn't have anymore.
"You know what fascinates me most?" Metallo continued, his mechanical eyes tracking between them. "It's not the powers, or the costume, or even the lies. It's how desperately you want to belong here." The cores in his chest pulsed brighter, casting sickly shadows across the morning. "All that strength, all those abilities, and what do you do with them? Put on glasses and play make-believe with humans. Pretend to be one of them." His voice dropped lower, almost gentle. "Tell me – did Martha Kent hold you when you cried about being different? Did Jonathan teach you how to fake being normal?"
"You don't know anything about my family," Clark felt steel creep into his voice, an edge that had nothing to do with his powers. "Either of them."
"Family?" The word came out like static through Metallo's speakers. "Is that what you call your human pets? The farmers who found something alien in their field and were too scared to turn it in?" His head tilted, studying Clark like a scientist observing a specimen. "Or maybe you mean your real parents – the ones who threw their unwanted child at the nearest habitable planet and hoped for the best?"
Clark's hands clenched hard enough that he would have drawn blood, if his skin could bleed. Each word was precisely calculated to wound, to provoke. He could see it in the way Metallo's targeting systems tracked his micro-expressions, looking for psychological pressure points to exploit. The radiation from the three cores made it harder to think clearly, but he forced himself to stay focused. There were still civilians in the surrounding buildings, lives that mattered more than this psychological warfare.
"And now there's Lois," Metallo's voice carried false sympathy as his sensors fixed on where she stood watching. "The reporter who thought she was in love with a man, only to find out she's been sleeping with an alien wearing a human mask." His chrome features softened in mock concern. "Tell me, Miss Lane – now that you know what he really is, do you still believe in Superman? Or are you just staying for the story?"
Through the window, Clark saw Lois's knuckles whiten around her phone. But when she spoke, her voice carried that particular steel he'd fallen in love with: "Some of us believe in truth, Corbin. Even when it's complicated."
"Truth?" Metallo's laugh echoed across the square, making windows rattle. "You want truth, Miss Lane? Here's your truth – your boyfriend is a fraud. A creature playing at being human, lying to everyone around him. Even you." His chest plate opened wider, the three cores beginning to spin like some terrible carnival wheel. "But don't worry. I'm about to show everyone exactly what he really is."
The beam that shot out wasn't just radiation – it was pure concentrated hatred given form. Clark barely managed to dodge, the energy cutting through the building behind him like tissue paper. The top three floors began to crumble, and he didn't hesitate – radiation be damned, he wouldn't let innocent people die.
He shot forward faster than human eyes could track, catching massive chunks of debris before they could crush the people still evacuating below. Every muscle screamed in protest as the enhanced kryptonite saturated his cells, but he forced himself to hold steady. Just a few more seconds, a few more people to clear the area...
"Still playing the hero." Something almost human crept into Metallo's mechanical voice – a longing so profound it hurt to hear. "Even when it makes you weak. Even when it gets you hurt." His targeting systems locked on with deadly purpose. "Just like in Gulmira."
That made Clark's head snap up. "How did you—"
"Know about your team-up with Stark and the Bat?" Metallo's laugh was pure grinding gears now. "LuthorCorp has eyes everywhere. We saw how you three played soldier in our backyard." More panels opened across his frame as he drew power from the cores. "You know what the worst part of coming home was? Not the pain, not the surgeries. It was trying to hold my little girl with arms that couldn't feel her. Trying to kiss my wife with lips that couldn't taste. Being a stranger in my own body."
The raw anguish in those words cut through the mechanical distortion, reminding Clark that somewhere inside that chrome shell, a wounded man was still screaming. "There are programs, John. People who can help—"
"Help?" Pure energy crackled around Metallo's frame as his systems redlined. "Like you helped? Flying around playing god while real heroes bled and died?" His voice rose to a roar that shattered windows for blocks. "Where were you when my unit was being torn apart? When good men died because the mighty Superman was too busy saving kittens from trees?"
Each word struck deeper than kryptonite, because Corbin wasn't entirely wrong. Clark had struggled with these same questions in the quiet hours before dawn, even with Lois sleeping peacefully beside him. How many people could he save? How did he choose? The weight of those decisions kept him awake some nights, haunting him with faces he couldn't reach in time.
"I can't be everywhere," Clark said quietly, setting down the last piece of debris. "Can't save everyone. But I try, John. Every day, I try."
"Try?" The word came out like broken glass through Metallo's speakers. His chest cores pulsed brighter, the combined radiation making Clark's vision swim. "Let me show you what trying really means."
The impact when Metallo launched himself from the Planet's roof shattered windows for blocks. Concrete cratered under his landing, synthetic skin rippling like liquid mercury to reveal more weapons powered by those three terrible cores. Morning sunlight caught the chrome underneath, making him look like some fallen angel of the machine age.
Clark descended more carefully, each movement a conscious battle against the waves of radiation saturating the air. Through blurring vision, he saw police establishing a perimeter, but civilians were still too close - phones recording, reporters narrating, people who couldn't look away from the clash of man and machine about to unfold.
"Run!" The authority in his voice finally got them moving. "Everyone clear the area! Now!"
"Yes, run!" Metallo's mechanical laugh echoed off buildings. "Run from your false god! See what happens when humanity stands up to creatures like him!" His targeting systems locked on with deadly precision. "Time to finish what we started in the park."
The concrete hadn't even settled from Metallo's landing when his boots ignited with tri-colored flame. He shot upward with unnatural grace, synthetic skin rippling as flight systems deployed across his frame. "What's wrong, Superman? Not used to your prey being able to follow you up here?"
Clark pushed himself airborne despite how the radiation made his head spin. Height usually gave him advantage, let him control the battlefield. But as Metallo matched his altitude with mechanical precision, that advantage evaporated.
"Like the upgrades?" Metallo spread his arms, energy crackling between them like bottled lightning. "LuthorCorp really outdid themselves. Though I had to insist on the flight systems. Couldn't let you keep your monopoly on the sky."
The first exchange happened faster than human eyes could track. Clark's heat vision lanced out just as Metallo fired a concentrated beam of kryptonite energy. The attacks met in midair with a sound like reality tearing. Windows shattered for blocks as crimson light battled sickly green.
"That all you got?" Metallo's voice carried even over the roar of their powers clashing. "The mighty Superman, brought low by a few rocks from his dead world?"
Clark poured more energy into his heat vision, trying to push back the kryptonite beam. But something was wrong - the radiation felt different, stronger. The blue and red cores were somehow amplifying the green kryptonite's effects exponentially.
They spun through Metropolis's skyscrapers, trading blasts that left molten glass and vaporized concrete in their wake. Clark tried to draw them higher, away from civilians, but Metallo kept forcing the fight back toward populated areas.
"Stop this!" Clark shouted as they circled the MetLife building. "You're going to get people killed!"
"Funny how you only care about collateral damage when you're losing!" Metallo's chest opened wider, all three cores pulsing in sync. The beam that shot out wasn't just radiation anymore - it was pure hatred given form.
Clark met it with everything he had, heat vision blazing. For a moment they hung suspended between heaven and earth, raw power turning the morning sky into a light show that had helicopters backing away. But something was happening to Metallo - the energy wasn't just powering him anymore, it was changing him.
"You feel that?" Metallo's mechanical voice took on an almost euphoric edge. "This is what real power feels like!" The synthetic skin around his cores began to peel away, revealing chrome underneath that pulsed with unholy light. "No more pretending to be human. No more playing by their rules!"
The power pouring off him was unlike anything Clark had ever encountered. His heat vision began to falter as waves of triple-radiation washed over him. Metallo saw the weakness and pressed his advantage, pouring more energy into his attack.
"What's wrong, alien?" The cyborg's voice carried a manic glee that was somehow worse than his earlier rage. "Not so mighty when someone can actually hurt you, are you?"
Their deadlock broke with devastating force. Metallo's beam punched through Clark's heat vision like it wasn't even there, catching him square in the chest. The impact sent him carving a trench through three office buildings before he crashed into the street below hard enough to shake foundations.
Before he could recover, Metallo landed on him with crushing force. Each blow from those chrome fists felt like being hit by a freight train, and the radiation pouring off his opponent made it impossible to defend properly.
"You think that can hurt me?" Metallo laughed between punches, the sound pure silicon madness. "My body can withstand a nuclear explosion!" Another hit sent blood spraying from Clark's lips. "Let's meet heart to heart!"
He grabbed Clark's collar, dragging him up to face the pulsing cores in his chest. This close, the radiation was unbearable - like every cell in his body was being torn apart and stitched back together wrong.
"What's wrong, Supes?" Metallo's chrome features twisted in a parody of concern. "You're looking a little green around the gills." His grip tightened as Clark tried to break free. "Look at me - I love kryptonite. Can't get enough of it!"
The mad glee in his voice was terrifying - whatever humanity John Corbin had left was drowning in an ocean of radioactive power. His eyes blazed with tri-colored light as he slammed Clark back into the crater. "I guess it's true what they say - one man's weakness is another's power source!"
Clark managed to roll away from the next blast, leaving another crater where he'd been lying. His mind raced for solutions that wouldn't end in more destruction, but Metallo wasn't giving him any choice. Each attack deliberately pushed them closer to populated areas, using civilians as tactical advantages.
"Run!" He shouted at a group still filming with their phones. "Everyone clear the area! Now!" His voice finally got them moving, but he caught the fear in their eyes. Not of Metallo, he realized with a pang, but of him - of what might happen when two beings with godlike power clashed.
"Yes, run!" Metallo called after the fleeing civilians. "Run from your false god! See him bleed!" Another blast forced Clark behind an overturned car. "Did they run from you in Smallville? When you first showed them what you could do?"
Clark launched himself skyward, leaving a crater where he'd stood. His mind raced – he needed altitude, needed distance between this fight and innocents who could get caught in the crossfire. But Metallo matched his ascent with terrible grace, tri-colored energy trailing from his frame like demonic contrails.
"Running already?" The cyborg's taunts carried even through the thinning air. "And here I thought the mighty Superman never backed down from a fight!"
Their clash sent shockwaves across Metropolis's skyline. Clark's fist connected with Metallo's chest plate just as another kryptonite beam caught him in the shoulder. Pain lanced through his arm, but he pushed through it, driving them both higher.
"The radiation—" Clark gritted his teeth as they spiraled through clouds. "It's affecting your mind, John. You have to fight it!"
"Fight it?" Metallo's laugh was pure machine madness now. "I've never felt more alive!" His chest cores spun faster, casting sickly light through the cloud layer. "Though I can't say the same for you. You're looking a little pale, alien. Need some fresh air?"
A blast caught Clark square in the chest, sending him tumbling. The city blurred beneath him as he struggled to regain control. His powers were fluctuating wildly – one moment he could barely fly, the next his strength surged unpredictably. The triple radiation was doing something to his cells, something worse than normal kryptonite.
"I did my homework on you," Metallo called, pursuing with mechanical precision. "Learned all about the farm boy trying to play human. Tell me – does Lois know about the others you've lied to? The trail of broken trust you've left behind?"
Clark's response was a burst of heat vision that actually caught Metallo off guard, melting part of his shoulder plating. But the cyborg just laughed, the damaged metal already beginning to reform.
"That's more like it! Show them what you really are!" Panels opened across Metallo's frame as they soared over Metropolis Bay. "No more holding back. No more pretending!"
The barrage that followed lit up the morning sky like a second sun. Clark dodged what he could, but the radiation made his movements sluggish. Where beams struck, his costume burned away, revealing skin that actually bruised. He needed to get this fight away from the city, away from—
"Thinking about Lois?" Metallo's voice shifted to something almost gentle, which somehow made it worse. "Don't worry. Once I'm done with you, I'll pay her a special visit. Maybe stop by LuthorCorp first, have a chat with Lionel about his hospitality." Energy crackled around his frame. "Then I think I'll burn Metropolis to the ground. Slowly. Make her watch it all before—"
Something snapped in Clark. He shot forward faster than Metallo's sensors could track, his fist connecting with the cyborg's jaw hard enough to send him cartwheeling through the air. The follow-up punch dented chest plating that was supposed to be indestructible.
"There he is!" Metallo's voice carried savage joy even as warnings flashed across his systems. "The god finally showing his true face!"
They traded blows at speeds that turned the air itself into plasma, each impact carrying enough force to level city blocks. Clark drove them north, away from population centers, but every mile cost him as the radiation ate away at his strength. His vision blurred, doubled, cleared – powers fluctuating like a bad radio signal.
"You know what the best part is?" Metallo kept pace easily now, the three cores giving him strength that shouldn't be possible. "I don't even need to kill Lois myself. Just let her live with knowing what you really are. The lies, the deception – it'll poison everything you had together."
The words hit harder than any radiation. Clark's response was another burst of heat vision, but this time Metallo was ready. Their beams met midair again, tri-colored energy versus crimson light. The deadlock lasted seconds before Metallo's enhanced power punched through.
Clark spiraled downward, ice forming on his cape as they crossed into Arctic airspace. Every cell in his body screamed from radiation exposure, but he forced himself to stay conscious. Below, the endless white expanse offered no cover, no respite. Somewhere ahead lay the Fortress, but he couldn't lead Metallo there – couldn't risk him getting access to Kryptonian technology.
"Getting tired?" Metallo's shadow fell across him as they descended. "Don't worry – I'm just getting started." The cyborg's synthetic skin had burned away completely now, leaving only chrome that pulsed with unholy light. "I want you conscious for what comes next. Want you to feel everything I'm going to do to your city. To your world."
The impact when they hit the ice drove breath from Clark's lungs. Metallo followed up with a blow that would have shattered mountains, driving him deeper into the frozen ground. Each punch was punctuated with with savage glee.
"First Lionel—" Another hit sent blood spraying across pristine snow. "Then LuthorCorp—" Clark tried to defend, but the radiation made his limbs feel like lead. "Then your precious Metropolis, street by street—" The cores in Metallo's chest spun faster, pouring out waves of devastating energy. "And only then, when she's seen everything she loves burn—"
"No—" Clark managed to catch one of the chrome fists, ice cracking around them from the force.
"Yes." Metallo leaned closer, his mechanical features twisted in what might have been a smile. "I'll kill Lois last. Make it slow. Make it personal. Let her die knowing the alien she loved couldn't save her."
The sound that tore from Clark's throat wasn't human. He surged upward with strength born of desperation, catching Metallo off guard. His fist connected with one of the chest cores, actually cracking the housing. For a moment, hope flared—
Then Metallo's laugh cut through the Arctic wind, more machine than ever. "That's it! Fight harder! Make this fun!" Energy poured from the damaged core, somehow stronger now that it was cracked. "Show me what the last son of Krypton can really do!"
The beating that followed was methodical, brutal. Each blow drove Clark deeper into the ice as Metallo's radiation stripped away his defenses. Blood froze on his lips, on the pristine snow around them. His costume, practically indestructible under normal conditions, began to tear.
"Look at you." Metallo's voice carried almost pity now. "The mighty Superman. Earth's great protector." He grabbed Clark's throat, forcing him to face the pulsing cores. "All that power, all that potential – and what did you do with it? Play dress-up with humans. Pretend to be one of them." The grip tightened. "I'm going to enjoy taking everything from you. Slowly. Personally."
Clark tried to speak, but only blood came out. The world was starting to go dark around the edges, his cells screaming from radiation exposure. Somewhere to the south lay Metropolis, lay Lois – everything he'd fought to protect. And here he was, broken in the ice, while a machine wearing a dead man's memories promised to destroy it all.
"Don't pass out on me yet." Metallo released his grip, letting Clark crumple to the frozen ground. "I want you conscious for this next part. Want you to understand exactly what's coming." He crouched beside Clark's battered form, cores pulsing with sadistic anticipation. "First, I'm going to find Lionel. Have a nice long talk about gratitude, about what his 'gift' really did to me. Then I'll burn LuthorCorp to the ground – every lab, every facility, every piece of evidence that John Corbin ever existed."
Each word was carefully chosen to wound, to twist the knife deeper. The radiation had stripped away whatever humanity Metallo had left, leaving only cold chrome and calculated cruelty.
"Then Metropolis." Metallo's voice had gone soft, almost gentle, which somehow made it worse than any rage. His chrome fingers traced idle patterns in Clark's blood on the snow. "Street by street. Building by building. Let them watch their hero's failure in real time." He leaned closer, cores pulsing with sickly light. "And Lois? I've got something special planned for her. Going to take my time, make it intimate. Let her watch everything she loves burn before—"
The heat vision caught him off guard – pure desperation giving Clark strength he shouldn't have had left. The blast actually forced Metallo back a step, leaving a scorched mark across his chest plate. For a moment, genuine surprise flickered across those mechanical features.
Then he laughed, the sound like grinding gears underwater. "There's still some fight left! Good. Wouldn't want this to be too easy." His hand shot out, catching Clark's throat before he could try again. "But playtime's over. Got a city to burn, a woman to break. You understand, right?."
Darkness crept in around Clark's vision as his powers finally gave out. The radiation had done something to him, changed something fundamental in his cells. Through blurring sight, he watched Metallo's face twist into that terrible smile, tri-colored light painting the Arctic waste in shades of nightmare.
"Sleep now, hero." Metallo's voice seemed to come from very far away. "Save your strength for what comes next. Want you conscious when I bring Lois here. When I make you watch—"
Something broke in Clark then – one last surge of defiance that manifested as heat vision. But the beam was weak, barely warming Metallo's chrome shell. The effort sent him spiraling into darkness, his enemy's laughter the last thing he heard.
An eternity later, Clark felt ice against his cheek. Every breath sent fresh waves of agony through his radiation-ravaged body. Somewhere above, Metallo's contrails were already fading as the cyborg rocketed south. South toward Metropolis. Toward Lois. Toward everything he'd sworn to protect.
He tried to push himself up, but his muscles betrayed him. Whatever that triple radiation had done, it went deeper than normal kryptonite exposure. His cells felt wrong, like they were being rewritten on some fundamental level. Even the weak Arctic sun seemed to burn rather than heal.
Blood dripped onto pristine snow – his blood, which shouldn't have been possible. The sight sparked a memory from years ago: learning his powers weren't absolute, that he could still be hurt. He'd been so scared that first time, but Krypto had stayed with him through the night, somehow knowing his friend needed him...
Krypto.
The thought of Krypto cut through Clark's pain like a beacon in darkness as he lay in the Arctic ice. Even now, after all these years, their connection remained as strong as that first day in the cornfield.