Author's note: This was written in response to Queenie's 'Clark Gets Committed' challenge and is set at an unspecified time after BaTP/HoL
Disclaimer: All recognisable characters etc. are property of DC Comics, Warner Bros and anyone else who has a stake these days. Only the writing is mine
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They say I’m crazy.
They tell me that Superman is a delusion. That my memories of flying, of immense physical strength, of helping people, are all figments of my imagination.
They don’t know what I know.
They don’t know about the kryptonite-infused paint on the walls that keeps me powerless. They don’t know that I am Superman.
I was Superman.
And then he trapped me. Caught in a kryptonite cage and my own cockiness.
Superman is dead.
There is no one, now, to challenge Lex Luthor’s hold on Metropolis. The Planet is gone. My friends are gone. Lois is bound to a sociopath. Even Clark Kent is dead, at least if you believe the Metropolis Star. Another dead American in the war-torn deserts of the Middle East.
I am nobody.
One day. One day I’ll get out of here.
And then Lex Luthor- who fears no man- will learn to fear a nobody.
