Chapter Text
Lloyd had not expected his day to go like this.
Crash‑landing into this hellhole of a city—disoriented, half‑fried, annoyed as hell—was normal. Cities were always awful. Loud. Sharp. Full of people staring too long and asking worse questions. He’d assumed the worst‑case scenario involved dodging cops, stealing food, maybe sleeping somewhere gross.
He had not factored in being kidnapped by a bald man whose ego could probably be seen from space.
Honestly, Lloyd could almost feel it radiating off him. Not literally—thank Fsm—but the vibe was unmistakable. The kind of guy who practiced speeches in the mirror. The sort who’d say “gladly” if you told him to go fuck himself. Lloyd had met plenty before. Usually kings. Sometimes gods. Always assholes.
Whatever.
He’d been kidnapped before. He could wait it out. Bald man would get bored.
Lloyd always survived boredom better than pain.
The first thing he noticed when he woke up was the light.
Not blinding. Worse. Even. White. Everywhere. No corners. No shadows. No mercy. fuckin Hospital‑bright type-shit.
He tried to move. Didn’t work.
Clear bands—transparent, humming faintly—pinned his wrists and ankles to the table. Not chains. Not cuffs. Something smarter. They tightened before he fully strained, predicting him. Anticipating thought.
Lloyd exhaled sharply.
“Oh,” he muttered. “That’s rude.”
A calm voice came from above.
“Subject is conscious.”
Another voice, closer. Female. Flat. Neutral.
“Good. Begin baseline.”
A screen slid into view. Not shoved. Not slammed. Just placed. Like he was an object being catalogued.
Text scrolled:
SUBJECT: LLOYD ALIAS: ‘NIGHTSHADE’ (UNCONFIRMED) STATUS: UNREGISTERED META-ANOMALY
Lloyd laughed—short, sharp, a little hysterical.
“Wow,” he muttered. “You really know how to make a first impression.”
No one reacted.
A man stepped into view. Lab coat. No name badge. No expression worth commenting on.
“You’ve been difficult to track,” the man said mildly. “You move like you don’t expect consequences.”
Lloyd turned his head as far as the restraints allowed.
“No offense,” he said, “but if you wanted my attention, you could’ve just asked.”
The man ignored him.
“Your abilities defy current classification,” he said. “That makes you valuable.”
Another pulse. Stronger.
“It also makes you dangerous.”
Lloyd unimpressed like hes heard this a million times (he has)
“What do you want?”
The man gestured. The lights dimmed—not much, just enough for Lloyd to notice.
“You have three projected outcomes,” the man said calmly.
“First: cooperation. You submit to observation and controlled deployment. You become… useful.”
“The lights brightened again.”
“Second: resistance. We escalate containment and extraction procedures until compliance is achieved.”
A pause.
“Third: termination.”
“You can’t just—”
“You do not officially exist,” the woman interrupts. “No records. No guardians. No allies.”
STATUS: NO KNOWN CONTACTS
RESCUE PROBABILITY: NEGLIGIBLE
"Didn't need to rub that in," Lloyd muttered.
The restraints hum louder, responding to the instinctive surge of power they’re suppressing.
“So,” the man continued, “you will learn to control yourself under our supervision—
—or we will learn how to dismantle you.”
Silence. Machines breathe.
Lloyd just replied:
“And if I say no?”
The man straightened.
“Then you stop being a subject,” he said.
“And start being a problem.”
_____________
The doors parted open.
Every technician straightened. No one announced him. They didn’t have to.
Polished shoes entered Lloyd’s field of vision. Impeccable suit. No lab coat. No fear. Just control.
Lex Luthor.
“So,” Lex said pleasantly, “this is the anomaly that’s been embarrassing my satellites.”
Lloyd squinted against the light, mouth curling despite himself.
“Wow, you must be the manager.”
Lex smiled. He approached slowly, hands clasped behind his back.
“You’re younger than I expected,” Lex said. “That’s disappointing.”
“Yeah?” Lloyd snapped. “Join the club.”
Lex stopped beside him, close enough that Lloyd could see his own reflection in Lex’s eyes—restrained, powerless, contained.
“Do you know why people fear gods?” Lex asked. “It isn’t their power.” He tapped the restraint near Lloyd’s wrist. “It’s their lack of accountability. You are power without structure. Chaos without direction. A problem the world hasn’t noticed yet.”
“That will not stand.”
“Sooo… you kidnapped me,” Lloyd said.
“No,” Lex replied. “I intervened.”
Screens bloomed to life—models, projections, futures.
like HOW does he know this stuff, like HAS HE BEEN STALKIN ME!? --maybe
“Left alone, you become a threat,” Lex said. “Studied, refined, controlled—you become an asset.”
Lloyd deadpan:
“Sooo typical. Work for you or—”
“Or cease,” Lex finished. “Yes.”
“I don’t need your loyalty,” Lex said. “I need your obedience.”
“…and if I don’t?” Lloyd asked.
Lex’s smile faded into indifference.
“Then power without purpose deserves extinction.”
He turned away.
“Begin compliance protocols.”
_____________
EXPERIMENT LOG — PROJECT NIGHTSHADE
The needle doesn’t hurt. That’s the unsettling part.
Lloyd watches his blood coil into a transparent vial, dark and glossy beneath the sterile lights.
“Don’t get excited,” he mutters. “That stuff doesn’t behave.”
A technician doesn’t look up.
“Everything behaves,” she says. “Eventually.”
The vial seals. Labels flash. Scanners hum.
Minutes later, alarms chirp. The blood darkens. Then—impossibly—it begins to collapse, molecular structure unraveling like a sentence being erased mid-word.
“Cellular decay without necrosis,” someone whispers. “It’s rejecting containment.”
Lex watches from behind the glass.
“Try again,” he says. “Different medium.”
They do. Same result. Every time.
A containment field flares around Lloyd, trying to pull something out of him. Energy readings spike. For half a second, it almost works. Then the machine screams. Lights explode. The extractor implodes inward, crushed by something that doesn’t register on any sensor.
Lloyd gasps, shaking.
“…told you.”
Lex stares at the wreckage. Not angry. Awed.
“The power isn’t stored,” he says slowly.
A scientist goes pale.
“Sir… that means—”
“There is nothing to take,” Lex finishes.
“He isn’t the source of the anomaly. He is the interface.”
The room goes silent.
_____________
Replication: Not efficient.
Extraction: Not efficient.
Synthesis: Not efficient.
Lex sets the tablet down.
“You’ve all been operating under the wrong assumption,” he says calmly.
“You assumed he was the source of the anomaly. You were wrong.”
He turns toward the glass. Toward Lloyd.
“You are no longer being copied,” Lex adds.
“…that’s comforting now?” Lloyd asks.
“You are a perfectly balanced convergence,” Lex explains. “Not irreplaceable because replication is impossible—” He meets Lloyd’s gaze. “—but because it’s a waste of resources.”
“So what, you keep a piece of me in a freezer and use me instead?”
Lex nods.
“Precisely.”
Lloyd stares. He mutters something under his breath.
“…I hate everyone here.”