Broken Legacy
Chapter 1: The Arrival

AN: This is my second Superman/Wonder Woman story and my second DC Comics story in general. After all the wonderful feedback I got from "Strangers In Paradise," I've been contemplating another story. While this one might not be on the same scale as the first, it'll still have plenty of drama and heart.

In terms of setting, this takes place prior to Justice League #12 in DC's New 52 Universe. At the moment, Superman and Wonder Woman are not romantically involved. The Justice League has been in operation for about four years now. And Diana only recently learned of her true heritage, but has not become the God of War yet. This story is basically a different way in which Superman and Wonder Woman come together.

'This means character thoughts or psychic communication'

Disclaimer: I don't own Superman, Wonder Woman, or the Justice League. They are the property of DC Comics and Warner Brothers. I am making no money off this in any way. Please don't sue.

As always, I urge everyone to take the time to review the story and provide feedback. Send me your comments via email or post a review on the fanfiction website. Thank you and enjoy!

Krypton Archives – Years Ago

'I'm almost out of time. Need to hurry! If my calculations are correct, the first round of tremors will begin in six hours. That gives me less than five to secure its second-most precious cargo.'

Jor'El pushed himself harder than anyone in the House of El had ever dared. He hadn't slept in several days. He hadn't eaten much of anything during that span. He couldn't spare a single moment for himself or his own well-being. It didn't matter that he was one of Krypton's most accomplished scientists. Six hours from now, nobody's title or prestige would matter.

Krypton world was doomed. Its people were doomed. He tried to warn them. He tried with every breath he could spare to warn them that the planet's core was destabilizing. They refused to listen. The High Council effectively doomed Krypton's entire civilization. But while Krypton was doomed, its legacy could still live on.

Jor'El had made all the necessary preparations. He and his wife, Lara Lor Van, had constructed a starship in secret and in violation of the High Council's orders. At this very moment, she was preparing their only son, Kal-El, for departure. He would be Krypton's last son. He would be their sole survivor – the embodiment of the House of El and Krypton's legacy. In order to secure that legacy, they needed to send him off with as much of Krypton's assembled knowledge.

This brought him to the archives of the High Council. He had already committed several capital crimes by breaking in, having hacked the security console and overridden the quantum firewalls. He now stood over the Primary Knowledge Matrix Crystal. If Krypton had a crown jewel, then this would be it. This special crystal contained nearly all the cumulative knowledge of Krypton's history. To tamper with it in any way was considered the highest of crimes, but Jor-El was far past the point of caring about Krypton's crimes.

Working feverishly, the accomplished scientist unlocked the quantum safeguards and initiated an unauthorized download. The massive crystal glowed brightly as information streamed from it into several smaller crystals that he constructed himself, which would be placed in the ship with his son.

"Download commencing," said the main computer interface. "Warning: unauthorized access has been granted. Unfiltered data will trigger a priority alpha alert."

"And filtering the data would only slow the process," said Jor'El. "Continue the download. I'll deal with the alert."

As the information flowed into the crystals, he activated his wrist-communicator and opened a secure line to Lara. It wouldn't be much longer. First, Kryton's highest authorities would come after them. Then, they would try to stop the launch. Jor-El refused to let that happened.

"Lara, it's me. I'm almost done. Is the ship ready?" said Jor'El to the communicator.

"Almost," she replied through a holographic display. "We'll be cutting it close, but it looks like we'll make it. I just got word of an alpha alert though. You know what that means."

"I expected this. I never said saving our son and our heritage would be easy."

"Please. If any of your endeavors were easy, I wouldn't have married you," said Lara curtly.

"Which is why I've the utmost confidence you'll keep the High Guard from entering my lab," said Jor-El. "They can't delay the launch!"

"Don't worry. They won't. If they want to lay a finger on this ship or my son, they'll have to go through me."

"May Rao have mercy on them all," said Jor-El.

He closed the link, having the utmost faith that his wife would protect the ship and their son. Lara did not take kindly to anyone who threatened her family. It didn't matter if the entire Kryptonian army attacked. She would take on every one of them.

Jor-El couldn't help but be proud of Lara and the family they built together. The House of El had been among Krypton's most respected families for generations. He could think of no better mother for Kal-El. For this and many other reasons, he needed to know about his family and about his legacy. That way when he came of age, he could be proud of his heritage.

As he contemplated the legacy he would impart to his son, an unexpected warning message came up on the holographic screen.

"Warning. Zeta Level Encryption detected," the system announced. "Be advised. The files cannot be uncoupled from the data cluster. However, they can be filtered. Doing so would temporarily halt the data stream. Do you wish to proceed?"

"I want to say no, but first tell me the source of the files. What do they pertain to?" asked Jor-El.

"Scanning. Scan complete. The files are part of a deeply embedded, heavily redacted file regarding the Atrocities of Tyr-El. Please note that the data stream will be throttled if you wish to filter it from the download. Do you wish to proceed?"

Jor-El froze at the sound of that name. There weren't many forces that could make him shudder as the world around him was coming to an end. But the sound of that name – a name that the House of El had tried to purge from their memories – shook him to his core.

"By Rao – why now? Of all the data in all the known universe, why must I see this now?" he lamented.

Jor-El watched the encrypted file flash before the screen. It revealed to him a horror that had not been mentioned beyond a whisper in centuries. It was a poorly kept, but heavily protected secret. Even his old nemesis, Dru-Zod, didn't dare bring it up. Even he understood the horrors of this secret and the dangers of exposing it. Now here he was – the end of Krypton at hand and having to save this horrible secret along with his son.

Knowing that time was not on his side, Jor-El did something he hadn't done in years. He hesitated. Logic dictated one thing. His heart urged him to do otherwise. He thought back to the day his son was born. He remembered holding him with Lara, promising to love and protect him no matter what. This was one instance where that promise could not be kept.

"Warning. Data throttling will commence in ten seconds if you do not respond," said the computer, adding more urgency to Jor-El's decision. "I'll repeat my query. Do you wish to proceed?"

Even in the face of this horror, Jor-El bowed his head solemnly. In the end, there was only one logical choice. He just prayed to Rao that it was the right one.

"No," he finally answered. "Continue the download. Reinforce the encryption on the data files in question. If Rao has any mercy for Krypton and the House of El, then these files will never be opened."

Metropolis Metropolitan Museum – Present Day

"Thank you all for being here on this beautiful spring day. It's a day I hope will be as historic as any artifact in this museum. After all, it was not so long ago that history as we knew it changed. We, as a people and a species, learned that we are not alone in this universe – that there are not alone even on this planet. We share this world with some amazing beings. And one of those beings – whom I know you've been waiting to hear from – is here today in the name of peace. So in the interest of my approval rating, I'll skip the rest of my speech and welcome the guest of honor – Superman, the Man of Steel!"

A great cheer erupted as the Mayor of Metropolis stepped aside from the podium and let the Man of Steel take it from here. A record crowd had gathered around the museum, filling the streets from end to end with adoring citizens waiting to get a glimpse of its greatest hero. From old men to young children, they cheered in solidarity – a testament to impact Superman had on Metropolis and the world. Even as the Justice League ascended to greater prominence after the Darkseid invasion, Superman still held the title as the world's most beloved hero.

"We love you, Superman!"

"You're the best! And you always will be!"

"You're our hero! You'll always be our hero!"

These adoring cheers always put a smile on Superman's face. While there were always critics spouting xenophobic vitriol – mostly from the pro-Lex Luthor crowd – he had learned to filter it out. Time and again, the good he saw in people outweighed the bad. This good was what he fought for. This good wass what made him Superman.

In the spirit of that good, he made it a point to give back to these people who had embraced him as their champion. It wasn't enough for him to be a hero. That's why he organized this event. In wake of Darkseid's invasion four years ago, it was an important gesture.

"Thank you, Mr. Mayor. And thank you Metropolis for being part of this," said Superman once the cheering died down. "It means a lot to me that the museum is opening its first ever exhibit dedicated to my home world, Krypton. As many of you know, I was not born on this planet. And while still see Earth as my home, a part of who I am will always be tied to Krypton. There's so much about Krypton that was lost – so much that we can never get back. But my home world's destruction doesn't have to be the end of its legacy. That's why I've decided to share that legacy with my adopted world. Using the technology I salvaged from the ship that brought me here, I've created an interactive world that I hope will bridge the ideals of two worlds. So in the interest of preserving one legacy and building another, I'm proud to share the enduring spirit of Krypton with that of Earth."

At the conclusion of this brief speech, Superman smiled towards the audience and listened to the cheers that followed. He then turned towards the Mayor, who tried to hand him an oversized pair of scissors for the ceremonial ribbon cutting. He politely waved it off, opting to use his heat vision to cut the ribbon.

This got an extra round of cheers from the crowd, as he knew it would. Seeing him use his otherworldly powers still got a reaction. The thrill and wonder that he conveyed as Superman still captivated many. No matter how many times he saw it, Clark still took a special satisfaction in it.

After cutting the ribbon, he and the Mayor formally opened the doors to the museum. A large contingent of reporters and press followed them inside, including Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen. As expected, they made sure they were at the front of the line. Given the Daily Planet's connection to Superman, they were also expected to write the story that every other outlet would follow.

"Great speech, Supes!" said Jimmy, giving Superman a thumbs-up before snapping a picture.

"Thank you, Jimmy," replied Superman, making sure he smiled for the picture.

"Short, sweet, and to the point – if only every press event was that smooth. I'd be out of a job and working for Cat Grant's gossip blog," said Lois.

"You always have an elaborate way of giving compliments people, Lois," said Superman with a smirk.

"A compliment sometimes needs context," she shrugged. "It also helps when someone who has been famously vague on his past finally opts to share a few details."

"Oh I'd say there are more than a few in this exhibit," said Superman as he gestured towards the elaborate display before him.

Jimmy, as well as the rest of the press group, was already taking plenty of pictures at the exhibit. The museum really went all out in setting it up, going out of their way to accommodate the unique features that came with Krypton's history.

An entire segment of the central hall had been cleared and a new wing had been added, thanks to a generous donation from Bruce Wayne. The hall had an elaborate mock-up of Superman's Fortress of Solitude, the crystalline arctic base that he often went to in order to be alone. This structure was just one of many that depicted various Kryptonian displays, some of which were modeled and some of which contained actual artifacts from his Fortress.

Most of these artifacts came in the form of small crystals, many of which were encoded with vast amounts of data containing the history of his people. These crystals acted as guides of sorts. As soon as Jimmy and the Mayor approached a display, the crystals activated to create dazzling holographic displays that depicted Kryptonian life.

"Welcome to Metropolis' history of Krypton exhibit," a computerized voice from the display said. "I am Viv – a Kryptionian-style virtual interface, programmed by Kal-El to be your guide. My database is vast – encompassing Krypton's history, culture, and traditions. I look forward to sharing our heritage in the name of truth, justice, and peace between worlds."

This display, and the spectacle it created, garnered plenty of attention. Jimmy eagerly snapped a few photos, knowing Perry White demanded a little style to go along with the substance that made the Daily Planet famous. Superman was confident he'd get plenty to meet Perry's often-grueling demands.

"Whoa! Looks like I should've brought more film," said Jimmy as he and the press marveled at the display.

"I trust you'll make it count," said Superman.

"If only Perry trusted me half as much – or paid me that much, for that matter," he joked.

Jimmy ran off to snap as many photos as he could before other photographers got ahead of him. The holographic display above the main structure continued to play out, depicting various images of Kryptonian architecture, art, and culture. It was a testament to his peoples' legacy – one he had not readily shared until recently.

Such displays might impress the Metropolis press core, but not Lois Lane. It usually took a lot more to impress her. While others focused on the displays, she stayed behind.

"You know how to create a spectacle. And for once it didn't involve major property damage," said Lois.

"Two compliments in under five minutes? Why do I get the feeling you're buttering me up for some tough questions?" quipped Superman.

"You know me too well and I'm terrible at buttering people up," she conceded. "There are still questions worth asking though – namely what made you change your mind. I'd like to say I know you pretty well, given all the exclusives we've had – not to mention the countless times you've saved my life."

"The running count is 23 actually."

"The fact you keep track tells me others have asked this question to," continued Lois. "You've always been pretty private about your home planet – not to mention everything else. So what changed? Why are you sharing all this with us now?"

Superman expected to get this question at some point. He even expected Lois to ask it before anyone else. Being Superman – especially after the battle against Darkseid and the formation of the Justice League – came with all sorts of challenges. Being the hero he wanted to be – and the hero people needed him to be – required him to constantly adapt. He saw this as part of that process.

"There's no easy answer to those questions, Lois," said Superman as he watched some reporters explore the exhibits. "There's a reason I kept these things private – good reasons, in fact."

"I don't doubt those reasons are good. I can't speak for the rest of Metropolis though – or the world, for that matter," said Lois.

"I don't expect you to either. Who I am and what I do – it's a big deal. People think I don't understand what it means to be this global icon, but I do. It's overwhelming having a hero like Superman flying around, saving the day with his other-worldly powers. Sharing all the details about where I came from and how I got here – well, that makes it even more overwhelming."

"And you didn't trust us to handle it?" she questioned.

"Quite the opposite, actually," retorted Superman. "I didn't think I had earned the trust of the people I'm protecting. Part of being Superman means being a hero people can trust. It takes time to gain that trust. I like to think I've gained enough trust that the people can embrace my world just as I've embraced theirs."

"Well if beating Darkseid and regularly humiliating with Lex Luthor isn't enough, then I'd say the people who don't trust you are just being difficult," said Lois.

The Man of Steel chuckled. Lois may have asked difficult questions at times, but she did see the bigger picture better than anyone he knew. She wasn't afraid to be critical, but she trusted him more than most and not just because he often saved her life. He could tell she still had plenty of tough questions to ask him, but he also trusted her to ask them at the right time.

"I still say you have more faith in people than anyone should," said Lois.

"It's part of what makes me Superman," he replied with a bemused shrug.

"Just don't overdo it. You might have their trust, but it doesn't take much to undermine it," she warned him. "I just hope you made sure there isn't anything in these exhibits that would make people wary of Kryptonians."

"I've filtered the data in this exhibit myself. I'm proud of my people's achievements and of my family. I can think of no better way to celebrate the trust I've built than by sharing Krypton's legacy."

Lois made sure she captured that quote. Superman had a feeling that would be one of the headlines in tomorrow's edition of the Daily Planet. It conveyed the right message. This exhibit was an important step in being the hero he wanted to be. His father warned him about sharing too much of Krypton's knowledge with humanity, but he also emphasized the importance of preserving Krypton's legacy.

Having given Lois her share of exclusive quotes, she joined the rest of the press core as they toured the exhibit. Superman shook a few more hands and posed for a few more pictures, including several newscasters. Overall, this event was a success. The exhibit garnered the right kinds of attention and none of his enemies had attacked. Over the past few years, he learned to appreciate any event that didn't involve any property damage.

After ensuring the press was satisfied with his contributions, he did one last scan of the area with his enhanced vision to make sure everything was in working order. In doing so, he noticed a familiar female figure navigating the crowd of reporters and broadcasters.

She didn't have a camera or a notepad with her. She was unusually inconspicuous, wearing sunglasses and baseball cap. She was clearly trying hard not to stand out, but Superman recognized her. When he saw her slip off to the side away from the crowds, he covertly flew over to confront her.

"Hello Diana," he greeted. "How'd you get in here without a press pass?"

"I'm an Amazonian demigod, Kal. Use your imagination," replied Diana flatly, not even looking in his direction.

"Is everything okay? Did Batman send you here to keep an eye on things?"

"You really think Batman would send me undercover to make sure nobody ruined this event? This act of good faith that you, the League, and the world badly needs in the post-Darkseid era?" she retorted.

"Are those rhetorical questions?" asked Superman in bemusement.

"Let me ask it another way – if Batman really thought something might go wrong, do you think I'd be this easy to find?"

When she phrased the question like that, it gave Superman his answers and then some. He wanted to roll his eyes, but he had been working with Batman long enough to know how he operated. Even with his enhanced senses, Batman found a way to stay in the shadows. And if he really thought something would happen, then Diana would be doing a lot more than just standing around in poor disguise.

While it answered one set of questions, it raised another. Superman had been working with Diana just as long as Batman. He knew her pretty well too – more than most of the Justice League dared to know. When something was really bothering her, she didn't usually hide it – not without a very good reason.

"I'll save you the trouble of asking more questions," said Diana, her voice becoming more distant. "I know you're already worried. You know I wouldn't go out of my way like this for no reason – not when there are battles to fight and injustice to defeat."

"You know me well. You know that I know you," said Superman in a more serious tone. "That alone says a lot. It also means I'm willing to talk if you need to."

"It's not like talking to Batman would be easier – or Hal, since he can't resist the urge to stare at my breasts every five seconds," she said dryly.

"So you need to talk, but aren't necessarily willing," he surmised.

"That's…not true."

"Diana, you're great at so many things. Lying isn't one of them."

The Amazon warrior bowed her head slightly – something Amazons rarely did. Diana had been trained from birth to hold her head high, embrace truth, and be proud of who she is. She carried that same pride with her as Wonder Woman. She never let conflict and uncertainty burden her. That was not the way of the warrior.

Lately, however, the very concept of Amazonian pride came into question. It filled Diana with a level of conflict she had never felt before, let alone talked about. But if she couldn't talk about it with Superman, then who else could she talk to?

"Krypton is an amazing world, Kal. You're doing a wonderful thing here – sharing it with the people," said Diana, her voice still distant. "You've so much to be proud of. Your people – your heritage – it has the potential to nurture so much good and understanding."

"I want to say thanks, but I hope you're not trying to change the subject," said Superman with growing concern.

"I'm not. I'm doing exactly what I came here to do. I'm admiring a culture that has so much to offer – one you have every right to be proud of. From what I've seen, Krypton was a just and honorable society. They worked together, learned from one another, and achieved great wonders. The technology they created and the society they built – it truly was astounding."

"They still had their flaws. I don't ignore them either. There's an entire section on how Krypton's tampering with its core led to its destruction."

"I don't doubt these flaws. It's more a matter of context. Not knowing how their activities affected their planet – that's less a flaw and more a tragedy. Your people didn't fully understand the consequences of their actions. That's far more honorable than knowing your peoples' traditions require the murder of innocent men and the abandonment of their children."

Diana's voice grew dark and bitter. It didn't take long for Superman to piece the rest together. Her admiration of Krypton's culture made a lot more sense in light of the unpleasant truths she recently learned about her people. Knowing this was a sensitive issue for her, Superman opted not to comment. He just offered Diana a reassuring gesture, which she accepted even if her warrior spirit wouldn't allow her to acknowledge it.

This was an issue that had recently emerged. She only shared it with the Justice League when Batman figured out that she had anomalies in her DNA, as he called them – a natural byproduct of having Zeus as a father. How Batman figured this out – not to mention why he felt to need to study the DNA of Justice League members in the first place – was still a mystery. However, the revelation of her heritage wasn't nearly as jarring as those surrounding the disturbing traditions of the Amazons.

"I used to believe that the strength of the Amazons was built on an honorable foundation," she continued. "Every Amazonian child is taught that we are warriors blessed by the gods – empowered in our darkest hour and strengthened by a devotion honor. Our spirit is pure, absent the corruption of man's world. We are not born by acts of traditional lust. We are only born of love. And only by showing great love were Amazons allowed to bear a child. Hera would bless the womb of one deemed worthy, imparting the gift of life and entrusting her to nurture it. It all seemed so honorable – generations of sisters untainted by man – born in purity, love, and strength. If only it were as true as I foolishly believed."

As she said these words, another holographic display formed over the main exhibit. The display depicted a rendering of a Kryptonian family, not unlike Superman's. It showed a man, a woman, and two children wearing traditional Kryptonian attire standing together, smiling and conveying the most basic forms of familial bonds. It was such a simple image, generating little interest from those present. To Diana, however, this display of the most basic familial bonds struck at the heart of the Amazons' atrocities.

"You weren't foolish, Diana," said Superman. "You believed what your family told you. You trusted them. That's not on you."

"You're wrong, Kal," said Diana. "Maybe it wasn't my fault for trusting them as a child. Having never left Themyscira until I came of age, I had no reason not to trust them. But after I did leave – after I explored man's world and learned how wrong they had been about mankind – I should've had some suspicions. It makes me wonder if Batman has the right idea, never wholly trusting anyone."

"Given Batman's people skills, I wouldn't go that far."

"Even if I had only gone half-way, it would've made the truth a lot less painful," said Diana solemnly.

She turned away from the holographic image of the Kryptonian family and hugged her shoulders. She couldn't subject herself to this right now – the sight of any family that hadn't been tainted by atrocity. It was a harsh reminder.

"This isn't some irrational tradition or inane taboo – it's ritual slaughter!" she said, her emotions intensifying with every word. "My sisters – the same sisters that I love and fight for with all my heart– seduce unwitting men, murder them in cold blood, and abandon their own sons. There's no honor in such traditions. We pretend to be proud warriors. We lie to our own daughters about their heritage. We hide from the knowledge that the entire foundation of Amazonian culture is built on the bodies of countless innocents! How many fathers, sons, brothers, and loved ones have died by Amazonian hands? How many of our own sons have we thrown away for the mere crime of being male? All that trust and honor I'm supposed to carry into battle – it now feels so…tainted."

Superman attempted another consoling gesture. This time, she rejected it. She rarely needed comfort – her strength as an Amazon always being enough to carry her through any hardship. This was more than mere hardship. This was the cold and painful truth. And no amount of strength – not even that of Superman or Wonder Woman – could change the truth.

He gave her some additional space. As much as he cared for Diana, Superman understood when words and gestures just weren't enough. This still didn't stop him from being there for her.

"Diana, I can't pretend to understand what you're going through so I won't," he said.

"Sometimes I wish you would pretend," Diana scoffed. "It would be nice to entertain the illusion that someone can relate to having their legacy shattered."

"Embracing illusions don't change the fact that they're still illusions."

"That's easy to say when your legacy is filled with love, hope, and self-sacrifice. And that's just from your own parents."

"You're right. It is easy," Superman conceded. "That's what makes the truth so hard. It's also what makes the truth worth accepting. Because once we start accepting illusions, we stop trying to change it for the better."

"There's nothing to change, Kal. There's no undoing centuries of atrocities," she said bitterly. "All those men who died – all the mothers who bore their children – their hands are forever stained with innocent blood!"

"The past can be every bit as harsh as the truth, I know," he continued. "We might not be able to change it, but we can still change the future. You might think your legacy is tainted now, but it certainly isn't shattered. You can still fight to make it into something you can take pride it."

He spoke with such hope. That was to be expected. The symbol on his chest, after all, was a symbol of hope. It didn't just apply to ordinary people. It could just as easily apply to demigods and warriors like her.

Diana gazed at him briefly, still full of conflict. She couldn't doubt his sincerity. Superman had never been anything other than sincere and honest with her, which was more than she could say about her own sisters. This man stood as a symbol of hope for so many people – hope for both the present and the future. Then, as her gaze drifted from his eyes to that iconic symbol on his chest, the cold hard truth struck her again.

Even a great warrior could only take so much. A great warrior also knew when a battle could not be won and Diana did not care to fight losing battles.

"I appreciate your outlook in my peoples' future, Kal. Really, I do," said Diana as she turned away from him once again, "but there's a fine line between tainted and shattered. The fact you can't tell the difference means you don't understand. You obviously don't have a clue."

With these solemn and bitter words, Diana walked off – heading towards the nearest exist while everyone else clamored to get in. Superman briefly contemplated going after her. Again, he chose to give her some space. She was Wonder Woman. She made it clear to everyone that she didn't need support from others to fight her battles – even when she could genuinely use it.

Whatever the case, she made a valid point. Superman didn't understand what she was going through. This wasn't like him discovering as a child that he wasn't from Earth. Everything she thought she knew about her sisters and the legacy of the Amazons had been shaken in the worst possible way. She was still a proud warrior and would keep fighting her battles as she always did, but even proud warriors can't avoid the heavy humility that often came with a harsh truth.

'She's such a strong, compassionate woman. I've always admired that about her. She'll comfort any innocent person – dare to love anyone who feels unloved. And then, she'll try to shoulder every burden, even when she knows she can't.'

He felt bad for his friend and teammate. While Superman still had hope for Diana, and even for the Amazons, he worried that Diana didn't share in that hope. He still trusted her to deal with these burdens. For now, he had his own legacy to deal.

'I guess that's easier when you have a strong legacy guiding you. I suppose I should be thankful. I can only imagine how hard it must be when that legacy is lost. Given the high bar my father set with Krypton's legacy, I hope I never have to.'

Lexcorp R&D Facility

"Information is the key to knowledge. Knowledge is the key to truth. Truth is the key to triumph," said an intensely focused Lex Luthor as he sat hunched over his work bench.

This was the mantra of a superior intellect. This simple understanding that even lesser minds could comprehend served as the basis for every endeavor worthy of his intellect. Lex Luthor didn't need to remind himself of this understanding, but he still felt compelled say it out loud. In a world full of inferior minds, it was worth belaboring.

Since his mind was anything but inferior, Lex put it to good use. For the past six hours, he had been hard at work in one of his most secure research facilities in Metropolis. This particular facility specialized in emerging fields of information technology – the first ingredient in the mantra of a superior intellect. This lab made regular advances on a daily basis in cutting-edge technology that utilized quantum computing, holographic data storage, and advanced decryption – mostly by him, of course.

It was not Lexcorp's most glamorous divisions, but it served as important a purpose as any in his never-ending effort to prove his superiority. It had been a while since he had done significant research in this lab, but there was a good reason for that. He now had an even better reason for channeling his genius into his latest creation, which was already coming together.

At the moment, his creation was still a messy assortment of advanced electronics strewn over a table and connected to secure servers. He was still making adjustment to ensure it would work to perfection, as a superior intellect could accept nothing less. As he made these adjustments, a TV next to a server blared with the latest cycle of news reports. While he only paid so much attention to the drivel of ignorant masses, there were certain events he could not ignore.

"Recapping our top story today, the Metropolis Metropolitan Museum opened its doors to the long-awaited Krypton exhibit. This exhibit offers the most comprehensive insight into the world that birthed our resident Man of Steel, including a detailed glimpse of Kryptonian culture as well as insights into Superman's family. This exhibit – first announced earlier this year – came courtesy of Superman himself. It marks the first time he's provided an in depth look at his world – a marked shift from his previous policy of measured privacy, as the Daily Planet once described. It also marks an unprecedented level of openness from an acting member of the Justice League, which some have criticized for a lack of transparency."

Lex Luthor snorted bitterly at that last remark. He had been by far the most vocal critic of Superman and the Justice League – and not just because they often hindered his efforts. He still didn't doubt for a second that this new openness, as the news so foolishly called it, was just another farce.

"So far, early reviews of the exhibit have been overwhelmingly positive," the news broadcast continued. "Preliminary polling indicates that while opinions on the Justice League remain mixed, opinions on Superman are at an all-time high. He is, by far, the most admired hero in Metropolis and the world at large. His willingness to share his heritage is expected to improve those opinions even more. Officials from the museum say they anticipate a surge of interest in Kryptonian culture. Record numbers of patrons are expected to tour the exhibit for the next several months."

This time, Lex could barely contain his disgust. These peons never ceased to astonish him. This otherworldly creature shares just a sliver of the knowledge at his disposal and they willingly place their blind trust in him. It was pathetic, but he didn't expect them to see the truth with their inferior minds.

Being a superior mind, Lex Luthor knew better. He understood that this charade was mere breadcrumbs for the masses – a way for Superman to avoid scrutiny. He still thought he was mankind's shining beacon of truth, justice, and all that was good. He was still as wrong as he ever was. The rest of the world might not believe it. Superman himself might not believe it. Lex was going still to prove it.

"In other news, the Senate subcommittee on the Lexcorp scandal issued another round of subpoenas today. This comes just one week after the United Nations issued a special report linking Lexcorp to the sale of illegal weapons to Eastern Europe, the Middle East, and Africa in exchange for rare mineral resources. It marks another low-point for Lexcorp and its embattled CEO, Lex Luthor. Mr. Luthor hasn't been seen publicly since Superman dropped a container full of illegal weapons on the steps of his corporate headquarters. Lexcorp's stock price is expected to take another major hit. Analysts estimate the company's loses could be in the tens of billions. Some even predict that, despite his majority ownership of the company, Mr. Luthor could be forced out by investors within…"

That was as far as Lex Luthor let it get. Before the report could finish, he grabbed a nearby wrench and threw it at the TV, breaking the screen and causing the whole set to fall off the table. It left a shattered mess of glass, plastic, and sparks on the floor. But Luthor didn't even look up from his work bench. The news had ceased being useful to him and so had the TV.

"Lies, half-truths, and drivel – the product of a corrupt message on lesser minds," Lex scoffed. "They want to buy into Superman's narrative – one where he's the clean-cut hero while I'm the corrupt villain? Fine! Let them cling to those lies. It'll only make my inevitable triumph more satisfying."

Lex picked up the pace of his work, assembling the array of components as fast as his hands would allow. At times, he used a special magnifying glass and a spark gun. Armed with these tools and the genius that made him so superior, his creation continued to manifest before his eyes.

If that news report had been useful for anything, it at least reminded him that time was now a factor. He could not deny that his previous failures to defeat Superman were catching up to him. Between illegal weapons sales and his repeated humiliation, which often made public by the Dailey Planet, the pressure on him kept escalating. He had to deliver soon or else no one would be left to expose Superman's lies.

Because of these lies, authorities from all over the world wanted Lex Luthor locked up and tried for crimes against humanity. Were it not for his connections with people in very high places, he would've been thrown in prison long ago. But Lex was smart enough to outwit the legal system. He was smarter than anyone and by exposing Superman's lies, he would prove it.

As he worked at a fevered pace, the secure doors to the lab opened and Mercy Graves – Lex's trusted assistant and body guard – entered with a briefcase cuffed to her wrist. She was the only one authorized to enter this lab. Moreover, she had been specifically instructed to not do so until she completed a very important mission for him.

"I'm back," she announced as she approached his work bench.

"You're two minutes and fifteen seconds late, Mercy. Tell me you have an excuse and make it a good one," said Lex, still not looking up.

"I do. Some visitors from the FBI and Interpol were at the front door. They were waving warrants at everyone and sealing off every possible entrance. I had to come in through the utility hatch."

"I won't say that's a good excuse, but it's acceptable," he said flatly.

"I'm afraid I don't have an excuse for them freezing your accounts though. They're serious this time. They want to take you in and hang you by a meat hook until you answer their questions. Those are their words, not mine."

Still not daunted, Luthor just sneered and set aside the magnifying glass. He even snickered at the effort these government stooges were making to taking him down.

"Don't worry about them. I made sure they won't find anything in this facility. I transferred every last bit of incriminating hardware to an undisclosed location – one they can't possibly know about," he said confidently.

"Tell that to the 23-year-old receptionist who got thrown to the floor and chipped a tooth," said Mercy.

"So send her a fruit basket and tell her to make a smoothie," Lex scoffed. "Now quit telling me things I already know – hard as that might be. Did you do as I asked?"

"Yes. I did," she replied flatly. "The results, however, weren't as promising as we hoped."

Mercy clutched the briefcase still cuffed to her wrist and set it on an empty area of the work bench. Having the dreaded task of telling Lex Luthor something other than what he wanted to hear was daunting. Few individuals in this company – or on this planet, for that matter – were equipped to do so. Mercy was among those few.

"I recruited our best engineers, programmers, and physicists. I even tapped a renegade hacker who made one too many bets with a loan shark. They all staked out the museum. They followed every exhibit – every display – every Kryptonian relic on display."

"Including the data crystals?" said Lex.

"We scrutinized them more than anything," she continued. "We expected Superman to make sure those crystals could only be used how he wanted. We tried to hack them. We tried to look for any open connections we could exploit. However, the safeguards on these things were…thorough. Some operate on a level that defies our understanding of physics. Again, those are their words, not mine."

"Given the limits of their understanding, I'm not surprised," he scoffed.

"While they couldn't be hacked, we did scan them in every possible frequency with every type of analysis we could get away with. I made sure they got away with more than they thought, but they're still not sure it's enough."

"I don't need them to be sure. Show me what they did with this data and I'll decide whether they remain in one piece."

Mercy nodded lightly and proceeded to unlock the heavy briefcase. It required a biometric scan and a special access code that only she and Lex knew. Once unlocked, she opened the case to reveal a single, crystalline object.

To an unenlightened mind, it didn't look too remarkable. It was barely the size of an apple and could easily be mistaken for something bought at a gift shop. In the hands of an ordinary man, it was nothing more than a paperweight. In the hands of Lex Luthor, it was the key to exposing Superman's lies.

"This is the best they could do," said Mercy as they gazed over the crystal. "They took the data they gathered and tried to recreate what they saw. They even used every last speck of those rare minerals you gave them – those same minerals that required several billion dollars of illegal weapons sales."

"I think of it more as an investment instead of a requirement," said Lex with a touch of humor. "No great truth was ever gained without kicking up a little dirt – or spilling a little blood."

"Well I hope that investment pays off. Between Interpol and the Board of Directors, they think you're tapped out, Lex."

"Then let them sit on their guns and wallets just a bit longer," he said, still not threatened in the slightest. "They'll get what they want soon enough."

With the utmost care, Lex put on a pair of heavy gloves and retrieved the crystal with the utmost care. As he held it in his hands, he took a moment to admire it – not because of its beauty, but because of the knowledge it could unlock.

"Quantum crystalline subluminal matrices coupled with parallel entanglement clusters – a concept so advanced that it's only fitting that aliens mastered it first," said Lex. "It's almost like magic – near infinite amounts of data being processed at near infinite speeds. In theory, you could scan an entire galaxy – down to the last molecule – and store all the data on a crystal small enough to fit in a backpack. It's only logical that a race like the Kryptonians would've mastered this craft and used it to preserve their history."

As remarkable as this small object was, Lex didn't admire it for too long. With steady hands, he placed the crystal into the core of the device he had been working on. This core consisted of a series of concentric rings, each feeding into several sets of wires and advanced circuits. While the more refined components remained unfinished, the most important parts were complete. Now, it had its most important ingredient.

"Therein lies the problem – as well as the key to Superman's downfall," said Lex as he attached the wires to the crystal. "It all comes down to logic – cold, calculating logic – the kind that neither man nor Superman can get around."

"Hopefully it's as effective as kryptonite," said Mercy.

"In some ways, it isn't. In others – well, let's just say it'll hit the Man of Steel where it hurts!"

After connecting a couple more wires, Lex reached over towards a special terminal where these wires converged. He adjusted several dials, making a string of complex calculations in his head that would've crippled a lesser mind. He then flipped the switch and power began flowing into the device.

Almost immediately, the crystal reacted. It wasn't as brilliant or as energetic as the crystals at the museum. This one flickered for a few moments, becoming very bright and very dim in a string of chaotic patterns. Luthor continued adjusting the dials, altering the energy input until the flickering settled. Once it did, the crystal settled into a steady, yellowish glow.

"Beautiful," said Luthor distantly as the light radiated throughout the lab. "Logic – by far, one of nature's most underrated beauties."

"I'll take your word for it," said Mercy, who couldn't bring herself to appreciate it as much, "but besides logic, what are we looking at?"

"Well first and foremost, we're looking at proof that the team I hired did their job," he said. "I didn't expect them to make a perfect replica of a Kryptonian data crystal. I didn't even expect them to make a half-way decent one. I just needed them to make one that's functional. That means my latest invention now has its most important part and that team can keep their jobs – among other things."

Lex made a few more adjustments on the dials. Then, he put on a pair of specialized goggles. Mercy did the same, retrieving a spare set on an adjacent table. Within moments, the glow of the crystal intensified. It continued to flicker, showing hints of instability, but this didn't concern Lex in the slightest. When it came to great breakthroughs, stability was often a hindrance.

"We're also looking at the key – the light from which that cold, hard logic will expose Superman's dirty little secrets," said Lex intently.

"You're still that convinced the overgrown boy scout has those kinds of secrets?" said Mercy with folded arms.

"I don't need to be convinced. Logic alone provides the certainty. It's a logic that most ordinary humans can follow. Go back far enough in their history and you'll find secrets – dark, disgusting secrets that shatter any semblance of innocence. Find any random German and you'll trace his history back to the Nazis. Find any Mongolian and you'll find the atrocities committed by Genghis Khan. You need only follow my history to my pitiful excuse for a father. Look deep enough, and those secrets are there."

It made sense – too much sense in some ways. It was one of those painful truths that few dared contemplate with themselves, let alone a false savior like Superman. This meant that oftentimes, painful truths needed a hard shove to get the point across.

"And these are mere men – not advanced aliens with the power to destroy entire planets," Lex continued. "The atrocities of our ancestors are too sickening to contemplate for most ordinary people. Imagine what those same people contemplate when they learn of Krypton's atrocities."

"If they're even there," said Mercy, still skeptical in her boss' assumptions.

"Oh they're there. I know they are!" said Lex with the utmost certainty. "No species becomes this advanced without getting their hands dirty. Time may pass. Later generations may censor their history. It doesn't change the truth. Even at our most depraved, mankind's ability to commit atrocities is tempered by our physical and technological limitations. But a race of beings that have the power of Superman and the technology to travel the stars – even my brilliant mind shudders to imagine the atrocities they've committed."

There was no further debate. There was nothing Mercy could say to change his mind. Lex Luthor was convinced that these dark truths were out there, hiding behind Superman's false image of a clean-cut superhero. It was only a matter of finding them and exposing this so-called superhero for the fraud he was. With this goal so tantalizingly close, Lex sat down at his workbench and made the final preparations.

"With this device, I will hack Superman's deepest, darkest secrets," said Lex. "He can hide all he wants. Whether it's in the Fortress of Solitude or the Justice League's watchtower, I will find them! I must find them before they find us."

"You really think we'll be that lucky? That one of Superman's secrets will just fall out of the sky?" said Mercy.

"Don't mistake improbability for impossibility. As much as I would love for Superman's secrets to expose themselves, this might be a case where my vindication comes hand-in-hand with mankind's condemnation."

Great Basin Desert – Central Nevada

It was the hardest part of every military operation – assessing a mission that had gone horribly wrong. Any uniformed officer with any level of military experience would agree. These kinds of operations presented an agonizingly challenge that few were equipped to handle.

General Samuel Lane had overseen his share operations. Plenty had gone wrong in ways he didn't care to contemplate. He distinguished himself by having a strong stomach for failure. Unfortunately, that made him the United States Military's go-to guy for dealing with missions that failed with a special kind of horror.

"We're closing in on the site, General Lane," reported the captain of an unmarked Blackhawk helicopter. "We've established a two-mile perimeter and a containment unit arrived a half-hour ago. We've put up road blocks at every possible access point within a 50-mile radius."

"Better make it 100. We may be in the middle of desert, but a lot can happen in the middle of nowhere," said the General from the passenger seat of the aircraft. "Since Waller called me personally, I'm assuming this is pretty bad."

"Sir, if the rumors I've heard are even half-true, then it's much worse than that."

General Lane wanted to believe that the captain was just exaggerating. He left those beliefs behind in Washington. Amanda Waller didn't call in personal favors unless she had no choice and given the resources at her disposal, she had choices. Him being the only one genuinely worried him.

Sitting aboard Blackhawk helicopter, the General had been reading over a classified report since he took off from Edwards Air Force Base. This report contained a vague yet distressing account of the mission in question.

It began a little over three hours ago. An anomaly was detected in a remote section of Central Nevada. The report didn't go into detail about this anomaly, but it worried enough people to warrant sending a team to investigate. The fact that this team involved a dozen highly trained Spec-Ops units was telling enough, but the fact they all went offline was even more disturbing.

There was no explanation. The report didn't even speculate at one. It just said that when the unit approached the site of the anomaly, the communications operator registered something the report described as "horrified screams." General Lane worked with Spec-Ops units. These were the kinds of soldiers who tried all their lives to not scream, regardless of the horror.

The report only got more vague from there, saying that all efforts at re-establishing communication had failed. When a scout drone was sent to survey the site, the communications operator apparently became ill. That was another bad sign. It also meant that meant this situation had to be contained before the horror could spread.

With several other heavily armed helicopters and a couple of fighter jets as an escort, General Lane's helicopter approached the site. He set the report aside as the aircraft landed on a makeshift landing pad within a dried up riverbed inside the perimeter. Near this riverbed, a makeshift command post had been set up with a couple of heavy vehicles, complete with three squads of marines and a couple of heavy tanks.

As General Lane gazed out the window, he saw a lot of activity. Soldiers and officers were scrambling, looking too panicked for trained military personal. Whatever had gone wrong must have been a special kind of failure.

"We're here, sir," announced the captain. "By Ms. Waller's order, I'm to remain on this craft and be ready for takeoff at a moment's notice."

"No need to make excuses, son. I wasn't gonna ask you to tag along. It's probably best you not confirm those rumors you heard," said General Lane.

"Um…thank you, sir."

The captain nodded – him and his co-pilot letting out a sigh of relief. They got to stay behind and leave quickly. That might make them the luckiest ones on this site.

With the file in hand, General Lane stepped off the helicopter. Unlike the captain, he had no intention of avoiding the horror. As soon as he stepped onto the dry desert terrain, he barged past a few officers and began making his way to the site. He didn't even check in with the personnel at the nearby command post. He just started walking towards the site where this horrible failure of a mission began.

He barely took two steps before a squad of marines surrounding him, acting as his escort. They moved swiftly, yet anxiously. He could tell from the look in their eyes that they hadn't seen the site, but they had heard the same rumors. One of the officers – a Colonel, if his uniform was any indication – ran over to greet him. If the pale expression on his face was any indication, these rumors had already been confirmed.

"General Lane! Thank…thank God, you're here," said the Colonel breathlessly. "I…I heard you were on your way. If anyone can help us assess this…this situation, it's you. We're all just…"

General Lane raised his hand to silence him, but continued walking towards the site.

"Don't start, Colonel. Save your breath. I can already tell that you've been throwing up – more than once, from what I gather," said General Lane.

"I um…probably should've skipped lunch…or several," said the Colonel sheepishly as he anxiously followed. "I was the first one to survey the damage. I thought I was ready. I've overseen more than a dozen missions – including operations against drug cartels, Qurac death camps, and genocidal warlords. I've seen more than my share of atrocities – terrible atrocities that give even hardened soldiers nightmares. But this – this is way beyond that."

General Lane started walking faster. He could already see the site up ahead. A special tent had been erected around it. There were several guards around it, each wearing darkened masks and helmets. As he approached, he saw their hands trembling as they clenched their rifles. They must have seen it too.

He walked out in front of his marine escorts, signaling them to stay back. It might be best to minimize exposure to the site. He didn't need these soldiers enduring more nightmares than they already had. Only the Colonel dared to keep up with him. He actually ran out in front, keeping him from entering the tent.

"Sir, before you enter, there's something else you need to know," said the Colonel, still breathless and pale.

"If you're trying to stall, Colonel, I should warn you that I carry a side-arm," said General Lane sternly.

"I'm not stalling. I know you've already read the report. I know you've heard the rumors. But there's one detail that Waller wants to keep quiet – one that only a very small handful of people know. And you need to be one of them."

"Can I assume there's a damn good reason for that?"

"There is, sir."

The Colonel leaned in closer, making sure none of the marines nearby overheard it. This information was too sensitive for even a classified report so it could only be whispered.

"The anomaly the team investigated – it's alien," he said.

"Alien? Are you sure?" said General Lane in a muted tone.

"Definitely," said the Colonel. "Before everything went…badly, they said it looked like some kind of pod. We don't know where it came from, but it definitely wasn't Earth. It had these strange markings on it and was radiating some energy that made all our instruments go haywire. We tried to process what we could, but then the pod opened and…"

His words then trailed off. He sounded like he was about to throw up again. General Lane stopped him before that happened.

"At ease, Colonel. Let me see for myself," he said, pushing the officer aside.

"I…hope you have a strong stomach, sir," said the Colonel.

He finally entered the tent to assess the horror. The moment he set foot inside, the hardened military officer did something he had trained his whole life to avoid. He froze.

Before him – illuminated by a row of portable lamps – was the nightmare of war in its most vivid form. In the center of the tent was the large pod the Colonel described. It stood no larger than trailer, but it was the area around the pod where the atrocity unfolded.

Within this area, the bodies of the Spec-Ops team – the dozen brave soldiers tasked with investigating this anomaly – littered the charred sands. They hadn't just been killed either, but General Lane bet they wished they had died sooner.

Whoever did this – or whatever, as might be the case – was sadistic on a level that defied description. The bodies had been bloodied, desecrated, and mutilated with the utmost cruelty. They had been stripped of their uniforms, either ripped off or burned off, as indicated by the charred clothing strewn around the site. Their legs had been broken, their arms had been crushed, and various body parts had been removed with surgical precision. They were crippled in a way that ensured they could not fight back or escape. Yet that still wasn't the worst of it.

"Mother of God…" he said under his breath.

General Lane had to cover his mouth to hide his revulsion. That proved difficult because beyond being crippled, these poor soldiers had been maimed in other, more sadistic ways. Eyes had been cut out, genitals had been removed, and internal organs had been exposed – all while the men were still alive. They had to have been alive because their eyes were still open, frozen with the horror and agony they endured in their final moments.

Such horror led General Lane to come to a terrifying yet unavoidable conclusion. The accomplished military officer in him saw the connections. These connections – on top of the alien nature of the pod – had some very disturbing implications.

"It – whatever it was – kept them alive," surmised General Lane. "First, they tried to fight back. Then, he subdued them. Finally – when he made it so none of them could escape – it tortured them. It tortured them long and hard."

"Yeah…we sort of figured that, sir," said the Colonel, still resisting the urge to throw up again. "We uh…don't know what this thing was after. These people were Spec-Ops. There's any number of things they could've told it."

"What makes you think it wanted intel?" asked General Lane. "If it's as alien as that pod, what use could it be?"

"That's…something we're still trying to figure out, sir."

General Lane didn't expect the Colonel to come up with an answer. That might be why Waller brought him in. They hoped he would have an answer. Given his vocal criticism of all things alien, he had more incentive than most. This might be one instance where that didn't matter.

Swallowing his disgust, General Lane knelt down at one of the dead soldiers. This poor young man had it especially rough. One of his eyes had been ripped out, half his teeth had been shattered, and his arms had been broken so bad that his bones poked through his skin. A look of utter horror and agony was frozen on his face. General Lane couldn't undo that agony, but he could at least close the young man's remaining eye and allow him to rest in peace.

"Rest easy, soldier," he told the mutilated body. "I swear I'll find whoever – whatever did this to you!"

It was a solemn promise that might be difficult to keep, even with his status, but these brave soldiers deserved better. An atrocity like this couldn't stand. Alien or no alien, this was an egregious injustice that had to be righted.

"Sir, while we don't know if this thing wanted any intel, we do have a lead of sorts," said the Colonel.

"What kind of lead?" asked General Lane.

"I had a feeling you'd want to follow it up. I was afraid you'd want to follow it this quickly. I know we don't have the luxury of waiting for our stomachs to settle, but…"

"Just take me to it, Colonel. Don't make me shoot you in the kneecaps," said General Lane in as serious a tone as any officer could.

The Colonel swallowed what remained of his disgust and gestured towards the other side of the tent. He led General Lane over a few more mutilated bodies, ignoring the ghastly sights and smells they exuded. While this sight was horrible enough, there was another layer to this atrocity that actually made it worse.

Walking quickly and anxiously, the Colonel eventually led General Lane to a small area in the corner of the tent where a few female officers were kneeling down over a gurney. When they approached, the officers immediately stood up and acknowledged General Lane's presence. However, he could tell by the pale looks on their faces that they were just as horrified as everyone else.

"General Lane," one of the female officers greeted with a salute.

"Step aside, soldier. Let me see," ordered General Lane.

They both did as he requested, stepping aside so he could see what they had been tending to. As General Lane approached the gurney, he saw a bruised and battered woman lying on it. She had been stripped naked like all the others, her body now covered by a blanket. And like the others, she had been tortured.

An eye had been removed. Half her teeth had been ripped out. Her jaw was swollen and both arms were in casts. Whatever flesh remained exposed had been covered in bruises, burns, or various marks of torment. The only thing that set her apart from the other battered bodies was that she was still alive. This alien – this monster didn't even have the mercy to end this poor woman's suffering. If General Lane didn't have enough incentive before, he sure did now.

"What is her name and rank?" asked General Lane as he gently brushed the dirt off the woman's face.

"Her name is Major Sandra Lee," said one of the female officers, "one of only seven women to lead her own Spec-Ops team. Graduated at the top of her class at the Virginia Military Institute, served in 13 successful operations, received multiple commendations from the Pentagon – not a blemish on her record to be found. Basically, if God wanted to make the perfect female officer, she would be the template."

"Then she damn well better live," he said sternly.

"She will," said the officer, "although that's not much consolation. She was tortured like all the others. But this – whatever monster did this – didn't just torture her. He made her watch as she tortured her squad. Then, when it was…done, it focused on her."

"It was bad – the worst I've ever seen and I've seen Qurac death camps," said the other female officer. "After or during the torture, this thing raped her."

"Raped her?" questioned General Lane. "I thought this thing was alien. How did it rape her?"

"We don't know. It is alien. That, we know for sure. But she's definitely been raped. We um…saw the signs. Plus, she described it to us…in vivid detail."

"Why the hell would she do that?" exclaimed General Lane.

The two female officers still struggled to process this. They were as just as great a loss as the Colonel over this atrocity. However, they didn't end up answering. Major Lee did it for them. Despite unimaginable pain, she opened her one eye and coughed up some blood. She then grasped General Lane's arm and told him the terrible truth.

"Because…he told me to," she said in a raspy voice.

"Major Lee, you should…" began General Lane, only to be cut off.

"No. I…I must," said the Major, her voice echoing the broken spirit. "He…let me live. He…wanted me to live – wanted me to tell you…what he did to me…and my squad. He wants…all of us…to know that he's here."

"Then tell me, Soldier? Who is this alien monster? And where did he go?" asked General Lane, already prepared to go to war with this menace.

"His name…is Tyr-El," she answered. "He's…from Krypton. He's the creator…of the Legion of Doomsday. And he's come to Earth…to rebuild his army."

Up next: Strategic Atrocity