Steel - Part 1.03 - Shout
The armored truck rumbled through midday Metropolis, its dull-blue frame sweating under the beating sun. Inside, the two guards treated it like any other shift. Complaining about traffic, sports, and the way their sandwiches always got soggy no matter what. By lunchtime they'd be out of food and scavenging among the city's food trucks like clockwork.
They'd just finished their last morning pickup at Metropolis Central Bank, the rear compartment now packed full of cash bags stacked to the ceiling. All that was left was the drive back to headquarters, unload the haul, and drown in the mountain of paperwork waiting for them. Not exactly thrilling work, but it paid the bills.
As they rolled past a construction site, the passenger frowned. It was unusually quiet for this hour - no drills, no shouting, no clanging metal. He checked his watch. Lunch break, maybe. He muttered something about unions, earning only an eye-roll from his partner.
Then a massive cement mixer suddenly lurched backward out of the construction lot, its engine growling as it swung wide into the road directly across their path.
"Whoa!" the driver barked, slamming the brakes as hard as he could. The armored truck screeched, tires biting hard into the asphalt, coming to a jolting stop just inches from the mixer's hulking metal side.
The passenger's sandwich slid off his lap. He didn't even have time to curse before his partner muttered, "That's not right, what kinda asshole just pulls out onto the road like that?"
"I dunno, but whoever he is he just cost me my lunch." He said, opening the door to the truck and hopping out onto the street below.
As he approached the mixer he habitually adjusted his belt, pulling the weight of the revolver in its holster up like he was John Wayne.
"Hey, what's the big idea?! Move this thing we got a schedule to keep!" He called out. His answer was silence, he called again - this time with far more explitives. The man in the mixer finally got out, he was wearing a blue jumpsuit and a mask.
"Hey, buddy - halloween's not for a few months, now are you going to move that thing or am I going to have to make you mov-"
A tire iron whistled through the air and slammed across his jaw, folding him to the pavement like a sack of grain. The world went white around the edges as he dropped face-first into the dust.
"Son of a!" the armored truck's driver cursed, reaching for his radio.
Before he could grab it, the construction-site fence to their right erupted with movement. Four more figures poured out wearing the same blue jumpsuits and cheap masks. Two armed with crowbars, one with a pistol, and the last with a sawed-off shotgun held at his side.
The shotgun wielder tapped twice on the armored truck's window with the barrel of the gun. "Alright, sweetheart." he called in a sing-song voice from behind his mask. "Get outta the truck and unlock the back. No one else needs to get hurt today."
The driver froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn't a hero. He wasn't paid enough to pretend to be. Still, for a moment he thought about grabbing his revolver and making a move. Common sense overtook bravery though, and he slowly and cautiously exited the car, the barrel of the gun still pointed at his neck.
Their slow movement towards the back of the vehicle was interrupted by a mighty
thoom followed by the noise of concrete raining down on the ground. They both turned in time to catch Steel sending a mighty punch to the gut of the tire iron wielder.
The impact sent the masked man sailing backward into a stack of rebar with a metallic crash, bending the rods like matchsticks around his unconscious body. The other robbers jolted in shock, stumbling back from the scene as dust rolled off the crater Steel had just formed in the pavement.
Steel straightened, the afternoon sun gleaming off the brushed metal of his armor. He didn't speak as he gazed at the startled robbers. He let out a sigh, lazily swinging his hammer into a rest position against his shoulder as he surveyed the situation, his eyes finally resting on the shotgun user.
Great, John thought behind his visor, another detour. And I'm definitely going to be late now.
The shotgun-wielding robber recovered first, jerking the weapon up. "S-stay back! I swear to God I'll-"
Steel swung his hammer and threw it in the air, catching pretty much everyone off guard as they traced its trajectory. It sailed into the sky, higher and higher and didn't seem to be coming back down anytime soon.
The robbers looked at each other - obviously confused about this turn of events. "Are you - are you kidding me?!" the one with the pistol yelped, fumbling with his weapon.
His hands shook so hard he nearly dropped it, finally he raised it just in time for Steel to deftly swat it away with a metal hand. It spun into the air, bounced off a traffic sign, and skittered across the asphalt.
The other two robbers looked at each other, then turned to run. From the looks of this guy their puny melee weapons would barely make a dent in his armor. Steel raised his fist for a moment, feeling the jet boosters in his shoes begin to fire up.
No. Focus, John. No broken bones. No hospital bills. You're here to stop them, not kill them. He shot over and grabbed a length of rebar from the collapsed stack, bent it around his leg with a single motion, and hurled the newly shaped metal hoop like a discus. It caught both fleeing men at the knees, taking them down together in a graceless tangle of arms and legs.
"Hey, asshole! I've still got a hostage!" Steels attention was brought back to the man with the shotgun, aiming a fraction of an inch away from the drivers neck. "And I'm gonna get my money and you ain't followin' or this guy gets it!"
He grumbled, absent mindedly glancing down at the clock on his HUD. He was later than late now.
Finally his hammer shot down from the heavens. Calculating the most optimal path to fly behind the robber as Steel targeted him through his visor. It zipped back and forth in straight lines, finally arriving behind the man and barrelling towards him, cleanly knocking him out and sending him skidding along the ground on his face as it returned to its masters hand.
The scene settled, only the noise of pained groaning and engines running breaking the silence. The armored truck driver stared, stunned, his hands hovering in surrender even though the threat was long gone.
Steel turned to him. "You alright?" His voice came out modulated. Enough that it sounded something like the human inside, but not so much that he could be identified.
"Y-yeah, I guess so." the guard managed, nodding rapidly. "Jeez, I thought I was a goner there!"
Steel gave a small nod and scanned the area for more threats. None left standing. His boots began to warm up as he prepared to fly off. Maybe he could make it just in time, if he left now and got changed quickly he might only be fashionably late rather than just normal rudely late.
A tiny voice echoed through his advanced hearing equipment. His visor triangulated it a few streets over, "Excuse me! Could someone please help an old woman!"
Steel flew over to find an elderly woman standing at the crosswalk, clutching her grocery bag like a shield. She looked shocked at the sight of the metal man, but sensing he wasn't a threat managed to squeek out "Are you...? Could you maybe help me across? The light's been broken all morning and those cars just keep barreling through..."
Steel blinked behind his visor. The interview was in forty minutes. He didn't have time for this at all.
But what were heroes for if not this?
He sighed quietly and holstered the hammer.
"Of course, ma'am." he said, stepping to her side. "Let's go."
Her arm looped around his huge metallic one, and together they walked across the street as the drivers on both sides screeched to abrupt, terrified halts at the sight of an eight-foot armored figure escorting a grandmother through traffic.
"Such nice manners!" she said sweetly. "You remind me of my Harold."
"Thank you, ma'am."
When they reached the other side, she patted his gauntlet. "You be safe, dear!"
"I'll try!"
He launched himself skyward a moment later, boosters flaring as he arced over the city.
He was definitely late for the interview now.
Clay frowned at the sight of his brother, rushing out of the taxi and pulling on his blazer over a black turtleneck and running up the stairs two at a time to the Luthorcorp building. At this point he might've prepared him to not show up at all for how late he was.
John slid his glasses on and made some small attempt to explain himself. "I know, I know, I'm late-"
"Save it." Clay interrupted, holding up his hand. "Let's not make ourselves any later than we already are. Hopefully I know the guy doing the interview."
The two entered the lobby. It was huge, modern, and abuzz with activity. Men in suits carrying briefcases passed side by side with scientists in labcoats. Important looking businessmen sat on luxurious chairs, impatiently tapping their feet as they were forced to wait.
Clay approached the receptionists desk. "Hey, Tracy. This is my very inconsiderate brother John - could you please call up and let the team know he’s here for his interview and deeply, profoundly sorry for being late?"
John shot him a harsh look. Tracy laughed into her headset as she dialed. "Of course, Mr. Irons. They were expecting him a little earlier, but...oh." Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh, he's coming down himself."
Clay blinked. "He? Who's 'he'?"
Before Tracy could answer, the elevator doors behind them slid open with a soft chime. A shock of red hair exited - Lex Luthor himself.
"Clay!" Lex greeted smoothly, extending a hand. "Always good to see you. How are things on the fourth floor?"
Clay shook it a little too eagerly. "Mr. Luthor. Appreciate you taking the time, really didn't expect-"
"And this" Lex said, turning his attention to John with a smile that could've lit the whole lobby, "Must be the older Irons brother I've heard so much about."
John felt a flicker of instinctive discomfort. Not exactly intimidation, just that uncomfortable sensation of being too closely evaluated. The kind of feeling you get in your gut when you know something's wrong but can't place what it is.
"John Henry Irons, sir." he said, offering a handshake. "And again, I apologize for being late. Something unexpected came up."
Lex chuckled lightly, waving it off. "If I held lateness against brilliant men, I'd have no scientists whatsoever. Come, let's talk. And please, call me Lex."
His tone left no room for disagreement as he gestured toward the private elevator. Clay mouthed good luck behind him as John followed Lex inside.
The moment the doors slid shut, Lex clasped his hands behind his back. "So." he began, "I've read your file. MIT. Honors. Your patents on modular magnetic propulsion. Your work on advanced kinetic dampening. And of course..." He paused almost as if to add effect. "Your time with AmerTek."
John felt a wave of stress wash over him. AmerTek was bound to come up at some point during the interview, but he thought he'd have more time to mentally prepare. Lex noticed and smiled gently, trying to relax him.
"You're worried we'll want you for weapons manufacturing." John didn't speak. Lex continued anyway, his voice softening as if confiding a secret. "I run a corporation, not an army, Mr. Irons. The world has more than enough men building better bullets. I am far more interested in men who build better futures." His gaze turned to the elevator doors as though addressing the entire city beyond them. "Metropolis deserves infrastructure that doesn't crumble every decade. Energy solutions that don't depend on foreign markets. Clean, safe, advanced systems. That is what LuthorCorp will create."
He turned back to John with a small, earnest smile. John knew better than to comment that the business wasn't in the young entrepeneurs hands - yet at least.
"And that is why I want you here." Continued Lex.
The elevator opened onto a pristine white hallway, all glass partitions and chrome accents. Scientists, engineers, and analysts moved with purpose in every direction. That feeling in his stomach was fading away, Lex had a natural talent for disarming people's suspicion with words.
"And as luck would have it" Lex continued, "Your orientation will begin with someone far more pleasant than I."
A woman approached from the opposite end of the hall. She was in her late twenties, with red hair tied back in a neat ponytail, and striking green eyes. She wore a slim-fit suit and carried a digital tablet under one arm. When she saw Lex, she smiled in a way that was felt genuine, one shared between friends rather than an employee and a boss.
"Mr. Luthor." she greeted. "You wanted me to assist with the Irons interview?"
Lex stepped aside. "John Henry Irons, this is Lana Lang. Head of Public Communications and Special Projects. She'll be joining us today."
Lana extended her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Irons. Clay talks about you all the time."
John shook her hand. "Only the bad stuff, I hope."
She grinned. "Mostly embarrassing stuff."
Lex clapped his hands together lightly. "Shall we begin?"
He led them into the first lab: a spacious workshop filled with prototype drones, robotics, and half-assembled exoskeletal rigs. There wasn't a weapon in sight, or even anything that resembled one.
"Here at LuthorCorp-" Lex said as they walked, "We're not trying to control the world. We're trying to improve it." He gestured toward a group of engineers working on a luminous energy coil. "Clean power. Safer transportation. Urban solutions that could transform every major city on Earth."
Lana watched John carefully out of the corner of her eye, as if she was measuring his reactions. John's gaze was firmly fixed on the numerous inventions littered throughout the workshops. He was trying to spot any slip-up, any sign that Luthorcorp was up to no good.
"And this-" Lex added as they approached another glass-enclosed lab "is only the beginning. Mr. Irons, I'd like you to consider not just a job here, but a legacy. Something worthy of your mind."
John stared through the glass at a towering array of industrial stabilizers and magnetic containment fields—technology far beyond anything AmerTek had ever dreamed of.
He had sworn he'd never step back into a lab like this. And yet, he felt a calling within him. Maybe for all the good he could do as Steel there was a greater good he could do here. Maybe the worlds problems could be solved a screwdriver rather than a hammer.
"What's the catch here, Lex." Finally the ginger haired man was taken off guard. "This all feels to good to be true."
Finally he replied. "No catch." He shook his head. "None at all. Your brother has spoken highly of you and by all accounts my research tells me any lab would be lucky to have you. I'm writing you a blank cheque, John. With my money and your brain I think we can change the world. I'm just glad those dogs at Hammer Industries haven't got to you first."
John's gaze swept back through the lab, staring past the machines and out the window to the city below.
"Look, just give it a try. The money's good and you have my word your work will never be twisted into something you'd be ashamed of. Not here. Not under me."
John didn't answer immediately. He stood there, arms crossed and deep in thought. Lana stepped closer and broke the silence. "Mr. Irons" she said gently "We know you’ve had bad experiences with corporations before. But this place is different. I've been here four years now. If there was something dark or shady behind the curtain, trust me - communications would be the first to know."
"You saying that as a PR professional or as a person?"
"As a person." Lana replied without missing a beat. "One who believes you could do a lot of good here. More than you realize."
John met her eyes. She didn't flinch or look away. He could feel sincerity in her. Unless she was the worlds best liar, he felt he knew she was telling the truth.
"You're really making this hard for me to refuse."
Lana smiled. "Is that a no?"
He shook his head, unable to resist the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "No. That's me admitting I can't say no to a pretty face."
"Flattery already? You’re going to fit in just fine."
Lex clapped his hands once, delighted. "Excellent! John Henry Irons, welcome to LuthorCorp."
He extended his hand again. This time, John shook it without hesitation. "Alright." John said, straightening his back. "Let's see what kind of future we can build."
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- sorry for my late reply, it looks like work has been kicking a lot of our asses recently!