The chaos of the evacuation was the perfect static. While Lex was busy coordinating with his security detail and Clark was being ushered toward the surface—still looking like he'd gone ten rounds with a ghost—Jeremy slipped away.
He didn't need to vanish; he just needed to be unremarkable. Using a flicker of Mimicry, he adjusted the set of his shoulders and the tension in his gait, blending into the frantic movements of the LuthorCorp containment team. To anyone glancing his way, he was just another panicked technician in a lab coat, lost in the green haze.
…
Jeremy moved deeper into the sub-basement, away from the elevator. His Apex Senses guided him through the cooling vents where the concentration of refined meteor dust was highest. He reached a reinforced containment locker that had been jarred open by Earl's kinetic tantrum.
Inside, nestled in lead-lined foam, were several jagged, high-purity Meteor Rocks. Unlike the raw stones found in the Smallville fields, these had been faceted and polished. They pulsed with a steady, artificial rhythm, as if they had been "tuned" by a machine.
Jeremy didn't hesitate. He swept three of the stones into a reinforced pouch. They didn't feel like "noise" to him; they felt like batteries. He wasn't looking to hurt Clark—that would be like destroying his best shield—he was looking to understand the architecture of his own survival.
As he turned to leave, his eyes caught a flickering monitor in a darkened corner office. The name on the login screen made his pulse skip: LIONEL LUTHOR.
Jeremy moved to the terminal. His fingers danced across the keys with the Speed of a hummingbird. He bypassed the encryption, his mind cataloging the data at a rate no human could match.
The files were a record of cold, clinical failure. This wasn't a forge for gods; it was a graveyard for a billionaire's curiosity.
The Refinement Project: Lionel had spent millions trying to stabilize the "Meteor Frequency" into a universal power source, a way to replace fossil fuels with the energy of the stars.The Human Cost: The files were filled with medical reports. Earl Jenkins was just one of many. Lionel hadn't been trying to create "freaks" or "heroes"—he had simply been indifferent to the biology of his workers as long as the data kept coming.The Dead End: A final memo from Lionel himself noted that the human body was "an insufficient vessel" for the refined mineral. The energy was too volatile, too jagged. It didn't merge; it eroded.
Jeremy stared at the screen, feeling a chill creep up his spine. Lionel Luthor had been looking for someone like him before he had even woken up in that cornfield.
"You were looking for a battery, Lionel," Jeremy whispered, his voice a low, dangerous hum. He realised that he had to be even more careful not to reveal his powers in the future, unless he wanted to end up a lab rat.
He heard the heavy boots of the tactical team approaching. Jeremy shut down the monitor and melted back into the shadows. He didn't head for the elevator; he used his Apex Strength to pry open a ventilation grate, pulling himself into the dark, metallic throat of the building.
Five minutes later, he emerged from a drainage pipe half a mile from the plant. He stripped off the stolen lab coat, smoothed his hair, and began the long walk back toward the staging area where the school buses were parked.
He found Chloe sitting on the bumper of the bus, her head in her hands. When she saw him, she let out a sob of pure relief and sprinted toward him, nearly knocking him over.
"Jeremy! Where were you? I thought... I thought you were still inside when they started the purge!"
"I got turned around in the smoke, Chloe," Jeremy lied, his voice sounding perfectly shaky, perfectly human. He held her tight, his hand resting over the pocket where the stolen refined stones hummed against his thigh. "I'm okay. I promise."
Across the parking lot, Clark was sitting on the tailgate of his father's truck, watching Jeremy with a look of profound, silent debt. Jeremy offered a small, tired nod—the "Protective Ally" acknowledging his charge.
The "Wall of Weird" was about to get a lot more complicated.