[Their Apartment, National City — June 2017, 8:34 AM]
Kara was talking about Lena Luthor.
Mon-El stood at the kitchen counter, coffee cup halfway to his lips, listening with the half-attention he'd learned to give morning conversation while his mind processed bigger problems. The portal sabotage was scheduled for tomorrow. Lar Gand had been silent for three days. Rhea's ships still circled overhead like patient vultures.
"—really excited about it," Kara was saying. "Some kind of transmatter technology. A new investor provided the specs, and Lena thinks she can have a working prototype within the week."
The coffee cup froze.
"What kind of investor?"
"I don't know. An older woman, sophisticated. European, maybe? Lena mentioned she's been incredibly hands-on with the project." Kara shrugged, reaching for her toast—his toast, technically, but the distinction had long since become irrelevant. "Why?"
Mon-El's mind raced through possibilities. Transmatter technology. Portal capable of transporting matter across vast distances. An older, sophisticated woman providing technical specifications for—
"What exactly is this technology supposed to do?"
"Create stable wormholes, I think? For instantaneous transportation." Kara finally noticed his expression. "Mon-El? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Not a ghost. Something worse.
"We need to talk to Lena. Now."
"What? Why?"
"Because I think I know who her investor is." He set down the coffee cup, already moving toward the bedroom to change. "And if I'm right, we have a much bigger problem than we thought."
---
L-Corp's lobby was all glass and chrome, the kind of aggressive modernity that screamed 'we have more money than taste.' Security recognized Kara immediately—Lena Luthor's best friend had certain privileges—and they were in the elevator within minutes.
"You still haven't explained what's going on," Kara said as the floors climbed.
"I need to see the investor first. Confirm my suspicions." Mon-El watched the numbers tick upward. "If I'm wrong, this is just paranoia. If I'm right..."
The elevator doors opened onto the executive floor.
Lena Luthor met them in the hallway outside her office, her expression shifting from pleasure to concern as she took in Mon-El's face.
"Kara. And Mon-El—you look terrible. What's happened?"
"Your investor," Mon-El said without preamble. "The woman funding the transmatter project. Describe her."
Lena's eyes narrowed. "That's confidential information."
"Lena, please." Kara stepped forward. "This is important."
Something in their expressions must have conveyed urgency. Lena sighed, gestured them into her office, closed the door.
"Older woman. Silver hair, very elegant. Regal bearing—the kind of posture that suggests she's used to being obeyed. She introduced herself as..." Lena paused, something flickering across her face. "Rhea. She said her name was Rhea."
Mon-El's stomach dropped through the floor.
"That's my mother."
The silence that followed was absolute.
"Your mother," Lena repeated slowly. "The Daxamite queen. The one currently orbiting Earth with a fleet of warships. That mother?"
"Yes."
"She's been meeting with me for three weeks." Lena's voice was carefully controlled, but her hands had started shaking. "She provided specifications for transmatter portal technology. Said it was for humanitarian purposes—instantaneous transportation of refugees, emergency supplies..."
"It's for an invasion." Mon-El crossed to Lena's desk, pulled up the project files on her computer. "She wants you to build a portal capable of transporting armies. Her armies. Directly to Earth's surface."
"That's not—I would never—" Lena stopped, stared at the technical specifications scrolling across her screen. "Oh god. The power requirements. The spatial stability parameters. This isn't designed for humanitarian aid. This is designed for..."
"Mass transportation of troops," Mon-El finished. "Probably thousands at a time. She doesn't need to fight her way through Earth's defenses. She just needs you to open a door."
Lena sank into her chair, her face pale. The coffee cup on her desk trembled as her hands gripped the armrests.
"I didn't know." Her voice was barely audible. "She was so... she seemed so genuine. Interested in my work, in my vision for L-Corp. I thought..." She laughed bitterly. "I thought I'd finally found someone who saw past the Luthor name."
"You were manipulated." Mon-El recognized the guilt in her expression—had felt it himself, in different contexts, for different reasons. "My mother is exceptionally good at finding what people want and promising to give it to them. It's how she's ruled for centuries."
"That doesn't excuse—"
"No. But it explains." He met her eyes. "The question now is what we do about it."
Kara had been silent through the exchange, processing. Now she spoke. "How close is the portal to completion?"
Lena pulled up the project timeline. "Seventy-three percent. At current pace, we'd have a working prototype in five days."
"Then we sabotage it," Mon-El said. "Introduce flaws that won't be apparent until the system is activated. Make it fail when she tries to use it."
"She'll know." Lena's voice was sharp. "She's been reviewing my progress personally. If the numbers don't match, if the test results are inconsistent—"
"Then we need to be subtle. Changes that look like engineering challenges, not deliberate interference." Mon-El studied the specifications. "Can you do it?"
Lena was quiet for a moment. Then her jaw set—the expression of someone who'd made a decision and wouldn't be moved from it.
"I can try." She pulled up the technical parameters, started marking potential failure points. "But if she realizes what I'm doing before we're ready..."
"She won't." Mon-El wished he felt as confident as he sounded. "We'll make sure of it."
They spent the next two hours reviewing the project, identifying points where sabotage could be introduced without raising suspicion. Lena's brilliance was evident in every contribution—the woman understood her own creation well enough to know exactly how to make it fail.
By the time they left L-Corp, they had a plan. Not a perfect plan—nothing involving Rhea could ever be perfect—but something.
"I'm sorry." Lena stopped them at the elevator. "For not seeing through her. For almost handing her exactly what she needed."
"Don't apologize." Kara hugged her. "You didn't know."
"That's the problem, isn't it?" Lena's smile was thin. "I never know. Not until it's almost too late."
Leaving the building, Mon-El's mind was already racing ahead. The portal changed everything. Even if they sabotaged this one, Rhea would have backup plans. She always had backup plans.
The question was whether they could stay one step ahead.
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