Chapter Text
Their attire was entirely too cheery for a funeral. Lena wore a robin's egg sundress; Lex donned his usual green and purple tee; Mercy sported her sleek black suit with a pair of violently red heels. They stood – all lined up in a perfect row under their umbrellas, the summer rain fell from a slate sky – and watched the casket sank into the earth. It splashed down none too gently as mud marred the beauty of its ivory casing.
The priest read his prayer while stopping occasionally to wipe rain-flecked spectacles against his tattered stole when he could no longer see. He sputtered through God’s word with his high-pitched, aged voice that caused the three to grind their teeth with each word:
O God, by whose mercy the souls of the faithful find rest;
mercifully grant forgiveness of their sins to Thy servants and handmaids,
and to all here and elsewhere who rest in Christ:
that being freed from all sins,
they may rejoice with Thee for evermore.
Through the same our Lord.
No sooner then when he finished, Lena stepped forward. She bowed her head in seemingly quiet contemplation as she inched her way to the grave's edge. Mercy touched her shoulder tenderly. Her brother Lex offered a wry smile. Then, she cleared her pale throat and spat out a great glob of spit. White and frothy, it fell gracelessly against the casket with a wet thump. Lex laughed, the fug of his breath melting into the lingering fog. Horrified, the priest hastily tucked his tome under his arm and shuffled back to the rectory without another word.
“Honestly,” Mercy chided, a faint hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth as she shooed them towards the parking lot.
It did not take long for them to find their car and the children climbed into the back, while their bodyguard sat in the driver’s seat. They pulled off an again through the wrought-iron gates. Lex shifted in his seat and looked out the rear window. Tombstones lined the hills like rows of crooked teeth.
“Cut that out,” he heard Lena say. She ran her freshly painted nails along a small run in her stocking. “Don’t give him that courtesy.”
He said nothing - even though he had plenty to say. Lex let the rhythm of the rain-slick road slipping under their tires substitute their conversation. He leaned his hairless head against the window, watching dreary skyline grow larger as they sped towards Metropolis. Lush foliage gave way to spires of concrete and steel as they crossed over the bridge to New Troy.
When they entered, they saw it. For the first time, Lex realized – even though he felt quite differently about the whole ordeal – that Metropolis was in mourning.
There were holograms of the man everywhere - at every bus stop, in every store front window, on every billboard. Some broadcasted his life story: how this "country boy from Kansas" rescued them his unrivaled technological genius. He rescued Metropolis and transformed it into that shining beacon of hope known as City of Tomorrow. His wealth became their wealth; his success became their success; his might became their might. The city became a place where people could dream again and one man made it all possible.
"If only they knew..." Lex groused, kicking the seat in front him.
"Maybe it's best if they don't," Mercy muttered. She signaled left. "He meant a lot to many people."
His sister snorted, her lips twisted into a half sneer as she turned her attentions to the run in her stockings again. It was bigger now.
Lex shrugged and sank further down into his seat, feeling the cool of the leather against the back of his skull.
Metropolis was in mourning. Lionel Luthor was dead. And the man’s own children did not give a damn.
After a few minutes, Mercy slowed and pulled to a stop by brownstone. It was somewhat worn as everything else in New Troy was. She cut the ignition and climbed out. She opened the door for the children and they clambered out onto the curb. They scurried to into the brownstone’s lobby to escape the rain.
Mercy tapped her finger against the directory. She took off, her red heels echoing across the marbled corridor. They followed her until they reached the last door at the end of the floor. “Wynman, Esq.” was written across the smoky glass in peeling, gold lettering.
They went inside and were created with endless stacks of file boxes.
“Gerald?” Mercy called out. “Are you here?” The twins exchanged a curious glance as the… rustling could be heard in the corner. An old man hobbled out, leaning heavily on a warped cane.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said, his wizen voice filled with casual indifference. “I heard Lionel had died on the radio. These must be his children then?”
He turned and hobbled away, disappearing behind his mountains of boxes. The three eventually found him sitting a desk. He bade them to sit with a wave of his wrinkled hands.
“Your father was an interesting one,” he said as they took their seats. “In fact, I remember when he-“
“Just get on with it,” the girl grumbled as she sank into the dusty chair next to her brother. She snatched up a stray business card from his desk and began to run her lemon-colored nails across it.
Gerald coughed into his wrinkled fist and began to read. Lionel had felt quite a bit of money left to the Letitia Luthor Ovarian Cancer Foundation. His secretary Hope got his yacht – she and their father one spent so much time on during their mother’s hospitalization. Mercy Graves received a number of Lex Corp shares for her years of dedicated service, as well as additional funds to continue to retain her as a bodyguard for his children.
“As for my beloved children,” he droned on. “I hereby bequeath unto my only daughter, Lena Letitia Luthor, I leave control of Lex Corp to be turned over to you once you've graduated from Harvard Business School."
She rolled her eyes.
“Of course he goes and gives me the biggest ball-and-fucking-chain,” she half-growled as she tossed the shredded business card onto the floor. “And Lexy?”
“Just give it away whatever is it,” Lex muttered. “I don't want it.”
"Well, your father left you this," Gerald continued. He rummaged through his briefcase until he produced a small manila envelope in his weathered hands. He slid it across the polished table, stopping just over the edge. Gingerly, Lex turned it over in his hands. He saw some numbers written across its flap in his father's spidery scrawl: 2341940
He opened it. Inside was a key card - thin, smooth and so black it absorbed the light of the room. Lex looked up, feeling the weight of everyone's eye burrowing into his bald head.
Automatically, he looked to Mercy. She had been Lionel’s bodyguard long before she he assigned her to guard them. But the woman stared back at him through the impenetrable dark of her sunglasses. She adjusted them slightly, pushing them up the bridge of her nose before her fingers disappeared beneath her shirt collar. She pulled out a similar black card attached to red lanyard. Lex inhaled sharply, his heart thrumming wildly as tightness filled his chest.
"H-how did you-?"
"It doesn't matter," she said. "We should go. Goodbye, Gerald."
“Yes, yes,” the old man mumbled as Mercy rested a generous-looking check on the desk between them.
Everything after that was a blur: She shooed the twins out of the office and into the car again. In minutes they returned to LexCorp Park. Workers and servants clamored to offer their condolences, but Mercy chased them off as she half-dragged the twins into the lobby.
“No disturbances,” she barked at the security personnel waiting for them in the elevator bank. They nodded as the others strode by him.
“Where are we going now, Mercy?!” snapped Lena as the woman herded them into an open elevator. “Can’t whatever nonsense Dad had for Lex wait until tomorrow?”
“No,” came the woman's monosyllabic reply as the doors slid shut. “Lex, take out your card, please.”
The boy hesitated. Slowly, he pulled the envelope from his back pocket. Mercy shunted forward and snatched it from his hands.
“W-what are you doing?“ Lex stammered as the woman torn it open and shook the card onto the elevator floor. She stooped loop and swiped it up. Mercy then pressed the card against the security pad. There was a series of beeps before the screen above it prompted it for pass code. Mercy read the envelope and entered the numbers.
They held their collective breaths as the code disappeared and the word “accepted” flashed once. The cables clanked and whorled to life as the elevator ascended.
Lena sucked her teeth.
“I swear to God,” she hissed. “If we get killed over Dad’s secretive bullshi-“
"It's not your lives that I am worried about," Mercy replied coldly, cutting her off. And then, the lights went out.
"W-what's happening?" Lex shouted as he groped blindly in the dark.
"We're nearly there," Mercy answered over their panicked whispers. Before either twin could ask, the elevator slowed to a stop. A ding sounded. As the doors began to open, a warm vermilion light filled the car.
"Are these..." Lex started, craning his neck to inspect the lights overhead, as they exited. "Red spectrum... sunlamps?"
"What's down here that needs something like this?" Lena muttered, her voice quavering slightly. Mercy brushed past them and into the hall.
"Come," she said simply. "And you can see for yourself."
For the second time that day, the twins followed Mercy down another…
They passed many rooms, lined with wall length observation windows. One room held what looked like some sort of alien pod - large and looming. It seemed to take up much of the room itself. From what Lex could see, the outside was decorated with strange etchings. They saw a hologram - like the one's Lionel invented- projecting from a crystal. It was a man, bearded and gray and sorrowful. Lex swore his eyes followed them when they walked by.
They arrived at their destination - the last door at the very end.
"Alexander," Mercy spoke as she punched several numbers on a small keypad above the lock.
"Go in. Your sister and I will be here. I need to gather some things before we go back home."
"And what are they?" But his question went unanswered as Mercy moved to cup his face between her fingers.
"Lex," she said softly. "Lex, your father has done unforgivable things, especially, to you two. But what's in this room is more important than that or your anger."
"B-but I am n-not angry."
"That's a lie." She placed a kiss atop his head. "You don't have to forgive him. You don't have to forgive me." She pressed the key card into Lex’s hands and moved back.
"M-Mercy,” Lena whimpered. “…you're scaring us..."
"I know." Her fingers trembled faintly as she removed her shades. Her eyes were glassy under the vermillion light. "I am sorry."
She took the girl’s hand and led her away. Lex swallowed thickly, as the sound of her heels faded away. Carefully, he pushed the door open, closing it behind him as Lena shouted after him.
The room was small. A large bed sat in the very center. And on that bed, there was a little boy - no older than two or three years old - bouncing a plush dog along a shape obscured by the dark duvet. He was singing in a language different from any Lex had ever heard.
The boy froze, his toy slipping when he realized Lex had entered. He looked up at him. Lex held his breath. The boy's eyes were glowing and impossibly blue under the red light. The child shouted something in that unfamiliar tongue, causing shape to stir. The duvet fell away and Lex saw another boy - older, closer to his own age, with the same fiercely glowing eyes. Almost immediately, they scrambled from the bed to kneel on the ground, pressing their heads down until they touched the tile. The little one struggled - wiggling about until the elder gently placed a hand on his head to hold him still.
And that is when Lex truly saw them. They were thin - horrendously thin - with bones jutting out of their equally thin garments at dangerous angles. Wrapped around their necks were thick, dual black bands, barely concealed by their threadbare shirt collars.
Nausea swept through Lex's body. His vision blurred and the room began to sway. His knees went weak and he knelt hard onto the floor, clutching his frantic heart. The key card fell from his trembling hands, landing by the prostrating children.
The little one looked up, his eyes shimmering in the crimson light, and scrambled to his feet. Ignoring the elder's protests, he seized the card in his tiny hands. Slowly, the boy held it out for him to take.
"Dad," Lex croaked, looking up the child – his blue eyes piercing through the red haze - beamed up at him. “W-what the hell is this?”