- Doomsday - Volume One: Gods and Monsters

Chapter 45: Unfolding Events

(AN: I know I keep saying that I will post more frequently, and that I will post even less-frequently than last time, but I've had a-lot of assessments recently, so have been focusing on that. I was originally going to include more in this chapter, but it would most likely be going on for 10k words, and thought, might as well release something. Either way, enjoy!)

[Several hours after the attempted assassination of Tekhartha Mondatta, within LexCorp Tower]

Luthor had been incredibly irritated all day, or at-least more-so than usual and incredibly grouchy towards his subordinates, everyone understood that today would be a significant day for the company, however Luthor placed the importance of this event in something else. For months he had been planning this trap, pulling strings within Overwatch, organising the meeting with Mondatta, and getting Metallo ready for his fated-duel, making every detail was precisely carried out to his careful specifics.

However, the day that his ingenuity was supposed to reign supreme over his long lost experiment was not today and it seemed that Luthor wouldn't be getting his victory for a long while at this point. Luthor's assistant Mercy Graves had been with the man for years, working under him and given the responsibility of remaining by his side, protecting him whenever necessary, but Graves had never seen the man this worked up. A woman in her early thirties, always smartly dressed, with her brunette hair neatly cascading down her back, a constant air of arrogance and snark following her wherever she went. It was clear to her why exactly he had failed.

Failure wasn't a word that Lex was accustomed to, he never failed, he only succeeded. He was the most powerful man on this planet, not because of some chemical or biological or even technological enhancement, Lex would refuse to sully his own ingenuity by reducing himself to the level of his adversaries and failed experiments. Rather, the man was confident that his mental will and fortitude would lead him to salvation against the Doomsday on his doorstep, or at-least that had been what Luthor had been telling himself for the last few years as he plotted away.

Building up his technological and business empire, Luthor's philanthropic persona gave the world an image of a genius but generous man who wished to give as much as he had taken, saving the world with his support for Overwatch or his pro-omnic viewpoint. This visage of the man was completely false, a ploy that Lex had meticulously crafted and refined constantly, in reality Luthor was a small man in a big world and he wasn't confident that he would always be on-top. But Luthor had never struggled in life, he had passed through his education with flying colours, with never any need for any relations, he had left all those personal connections long ago when he endeavoured upon this road.

Within the man's mind, he had been humiliated, and while no-one besides [Y/N] and himself knew about it, it truly felt that the world was laughing in unison against him, and it sickened him, he never failed, that wasn't the Luthor way.

Graves had been sitting at her desk for the majority of the day, refusing any statements from the press at the moment for a word from Luthor, what his thoughts were on the current terror attack and generally curious as to his condition. In truth, Luthor had scurried away during the attack and made it safely back inside the building, but he had gone straight to his 'secret' office and hadn't left since, informing Graves to take any calls. The attack, now that many hours had passed, had ended, but Luthor hadn't left his room and Graves was beginning to tire of the repeated calls from journalists asking idiotic questions over and over again.

Graves pushed herself up from her desk, a cushy location with nice views and finely decorated furniture, and moved forcefully through the tower with a quick tenacity and force. Walking over a large walkway, the entrance to the tower at the bottom visible, a large draft could be felt as a cold shiver descended upon the woman, yet she refused to show any inclination of weakness. Not only had she had to deal with the journalists, but also get right on enquiring about the damage done to the facility, she wouldn't have the first impressions of LexCorp tower being a ruin. Graves found some humour when considering the damage was self-inflicted, but quickly shook the thoughts away.