The truck skidded out of control, its tires shrieking as the vehicle tipped sideways. The load it carried—barrels of industrial colorants and natural dyes—spilled out with thunderous bangs, scattering across the café terrace.
The calm afternoon shattered. Customers who had been sipping coffee and chatting in the late sun screamed as the heavy barrels rolled with crushing force, spilling bright pigments that splashed into the air like fireworks before splattering across the ground and the lake.
"Move! Move!" someone shouted, but the chaos was already in full swing.
One barrel clipped a table, launching it into the water. Another barreled toward Lex Luthor, who had just risen from his chair. He barely had time to react before it smashed into him, knocking the wind from his chest and hurling him into the lake.
Lex's vision went black for a moment, pain radiating across his ribs. He surfaced, gasping, only for more barrels to crash into the water around him, spraying dye in violent bursts that stained the artificial lake every shade of red, green, and blue. The smell of chemicals was sharp, almost burning.
Lex tried to swim, but every direction was blocked by debris. Panic clawed at his chest as he inhaled the noxious stench. His limbs grew heavy, his strength fading with each futile stroke.
The cold, the dye, the suffocating fumes—it was too much. His mind blurred, thoughts slipping into darkness.
So this is how I die?
Memories and hallucinations blurred together. He saw himself in a white suit, standing in the White House, hand on the seat of ultimate power. Then the scene twisted. A field of sunflowers withered beneath his touch, revealing endless white bones. Above, a grotesque monster loomed, its aura vast and suffocating. Fear unlike anything he had known consumed him.
"Splash!"
Hands gripped him, hauling him from the water. Air flooded his lungs as he coughed violently, vision snapping back to reality.
"Are you alright?"
Clark Kent's voice came through the haze. His clothes and hair were drenched, streaked with green dye that clung to him in streaks. He wiped his face, peering down at Lex with worry.
Clark hadn't intended to be here. After storming out of the farm, he had wandered aimlessly to clear his head. But when the accident unfolded, his instincts had taken over. He had thrown himself into the lake without hesitation, ignoring the risk of exposing his gifts.
Lex blinked hard, regaining focus. "I… I'm fine." His chest still ached, but he managed to sit up, panting. "You saved me?"
Clark simply nodded, dragging him closer to the shore. The barrels that blocked the way were shoved aside as though they were made of cardboard. Lex froze, stunned by the ease with which the young man moved hundreds of pounds of weight through water.
"Who are you?" Lex muttered, disbelief flashing in his eyes.
Clark didn't answer. He only pulled Lex out of the water, then turned back immediately to help the others.
On shore, townspeople rushed to Lex, wrapping him in a blanket. He trembled from the cold, his lips pale, but his eyes never left Clark.
There was something unreal about the boy—his strength, his quiet resolve. Lex's mind churned, his gaze filled with awe, suspicion, and a spark of restless curiosity.
---
Two hours later.
The sky had darkened, streaks of orange fading into dusk. Lex's Lexus purred up the Kent Farm driveway, its headlights sweeping over the wooden fence.
Lex stepped out first, holding the door open. He still smelled faintly of dye despite changing his clothes. His eyes, however, gleamed with renewed focus.
"Aren't you going to invite me in, Clark?" he asked, his voice smooth with practiced charm. "After all, you did save my life. Seems only fair I repay the kindness somehow."
Clark hesitated, then nodded. Despite what his father thought of the Luthor family, Clark couldn't shake his impression of Lex during their short time together. He had been witty, polite, even vulnerable. Maybe the rumors about Luthors weren't the whole truth.
"Of course," Clark said at last. "Come in."
Inside, Martha Kent was surprised to see Lex step through her door. She never imagined a Luthor standing in her living room, much less one being welcomed by her son.
"Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea?" she offered warmly, though curiosity flickered in her eyes.
Lex smiled faintly. "No, Mrs. Kent, I think I've had enough to drink today. Nearly drowned in a lake full of dye. My stomach's still full from that." His tone was light, but his words carried a darker humor.
Martha glanced at Clark, puzzled, before excusing herself to give them space.
Lex wandered slightly, eyes scanning the Kent home. He paused, his attention catching on a pencil sketch laid out on the round table. His breath caught.
The drawing was haunting. A broken sky loomed over a wasteland of bones, while a monstrous figure towered above, its aura oppressive and suffocating. The vision was exactly what he had seen beneath the lake.
His fingers trembled as he touched the edge of the sketch.
"This… what is this?"
Clark stepped forward. "That's Adrian's work. My younger brother."
Lex froze. "Adrian?"
"Yes," Clark said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "He's talented, don't you think?"
Lex didn't answer right away. His heart pounded, unease crawling through his veins. The painting, the hallucination, and the boy he had just met—all of it was connected, and he could feel it.
---