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Act 1: A Villain’s Awakening
Jaune stirred awake, his senses sluggish. The hard cot beneath him radiated cold despite the oppressive warmth in the air. The faint hum of fluorescent lights buzzed above, discordant with his disoriented thoughts. Fragments of memory floated, refusing to align.
Where am I? Where’s my blanket? Why am I still wearing my clothes?
His eyes fluttered open, revealing an unfamiliar, dimly lit warehouse. Rust-stained walls loomed around him, crates stacked precariously in corners. A battered desk sat at the far side of the room, papers scattered like fallen leaves. Everything screamed abandonment—and danger.
Jaune sat up abruptly, patting himself down. No scroll. No weapon. Panic clawed at him as his eyes darted around the room, searching for an exit.
“Kidnapped,” he whispered, his voice cracking. Who took me? Why?
Suddenly, a faint glow drew his attention. Across the far wall, luminous text flickered to life. The words pulsed faintly, accompanied by a calm, synthetic voice.
“Welcome.”
The word hung there for a moment before more text faded into view:
“This is a new experience unlike anything you’ve done before. You will now take on the role of Lex Luthor.”
“Lex… who?” Jaune muttered, brow furrowed.
The voice pressed on, oblivious to his confusion.
“Lex Luthor is a brilliant supervillain, now fallen from grace. Your task: rebuild his empire. Good luck.”
“Supervillain?!” Jaune bolted upright, his voice cracking. “I don’t want to be a supervillain! Why me?!”
The words faded, replaced by a final message:
“Good luck.”
Before he could process what he had just heard, a metallic roll-up door creaked open on the far side of the warehouse. A single chair stood illuminated under a harsh light. Draped over it was a sleek black suit and tie, its crisp lines undisturbed by the surrounding grime. Beside it, a glowing watch-like device pulsed faintly on a small table.
Cautiously, Jaune approached the chair, his footsteps echoing through the warehouse. The air seemed heavier, charged with tension. This has to be a joke, he thought, reaching out to touch the suit.
The fabric was unnervingly smooth, exuding power and sophistication. It felt alien in his hands, like it belonged to someone far more capable. Someone who wasn’t him.
Reluctantly, he put it on, tugging at the stiff collar. His reflection in a cracked window startled him. The suit made him look older, sharper—dangerous.
“I’m not a leader,” he muttered. “And I’m definitely not some criminal mastermind.”
As he fastened the tie, the watch on the table activated with a soft chime. A floating interface appeared before him, its words glowing in cold precision:
Name: Lex Luthor
Role: Visionary Leader
Objective: Rebuild the empire. Maintain control.
Jaune stared at the display, his stomach churning. “Brilliant,” he muttered bitterly. “I’m supposed to be an evil genius, and I don’t even know where to start.”
The roll-up door groaned open further, and three figures strode into the warehouse with purpose. Jaune froze as they approached.
The first woman was tall and elegant, her sharp eyes assessing him as if dissecting his soul. An ancient tome rested under her arm. “There you are, Lex,” she said coolly. “We’ve been looking everywhere. There’s much to discuss.”
The second was dressed in a tailored business suit, holding a datapad in one hand. Her posture was rigid, her expression stern. “The warehouse isn’t much,” she said, scanning the room critically. “But it’s a start. We’ll rebuild, just like you planned.”
The third woman was a stark contrast to the others. Confidence radiated from her, her lips curling into a smirk. “Still keeping secrets, Lexy?” she teased, amusement dancing in her eyes. “You’ve got that ‘I’m hiding something’ look again.”
Jaune’s mind raced. These women—whoever they were—clearly thought he was Lex Luthor. Their gazes bore into him, heavy with expectation.
Play along, his instincts screamed. You have to play along.
Straightening his back, he forced an awkward smile. “Uh… right. Good work, everyone. Let’s keep at it.”
The first woman—Tala, he would later learn—narrowed her eyes. Roulette chuckled softly, savoring his discomfort. Mercy, the stern one, frowned but said nothing.
When the women left to “prepare the next steps,” Jaune slumped into a nearby chair. His gaze drifted to the cluttered desk. Desperation drove him to sift through the mess, hoping for answers.
Bankruptcy notices. Schematics for futuristic technology. Cryptic notes referencing alliances and betrayals.
“LexCorp,” he murmured, staring at a faded letterhead. “This… this is Lex Luthor’s empire? Or what’s left of it?”
A small leather-bound notebook caught his attention. Inside were lists of names: Tala, Mercy Graves, Roulette. Notes scrawled beside them hinted at alliances, grudges, and betrayals.
Jaune leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “So I’m supposed to rebuild an empire? Great. Just what I need: more responsibility.”
The old computer on the desk buzzed to life. Mercy’s voice called out, sharp and insistent. “Sir, Gorilla Grodd is on the line.”
“Gorilla… who?” Jaune whispered, inching toward the flickering screen.
An enormous, imposing face filled the monitor. The telepathic ape’s gaze bore into him, demanding respect.
“Luthor,” Grodd rumbled. “I see you’ve fallen far. Tell me—what’s your plan to reclaim your empire and crush the Justice League?”
Jaune’s mind scrambled. Plan? What plan?!
Clearing his throat, he forced a confident tone. “Grodd, you already know my plan. Let’s hear your assessment first.”
Suspicion flickered across Grodd’s face. After a tense pause, the ape nodded. “Hmph. Still as calculating as ever. Fine—I’ll indulge you this time.”
As Grodd detailed his thoughts, Jaune nodded along, barely keeping up. When the call finally ended, he slumped back into the chair, sweat beading on his forehead.
“That was too close,” he muttered. “I’m going to have to fake it until I make it.”
Over the next few days, Jaune worked to piece together his new reality. But the cracks in the illusion became impossible to ignore.
One evening, as Tala briefed him on a magical artifact, she froze mid-sentence.
“… its energy signature is… unusual. If we channel it through—”
Her eyes glazed over, her body unnaturally still.
“Tala?” Jaune asked, his voice tight. “Are you okay?”
After a moment, she blinked, resuming as if nothing had happened. “—the reactor, we might amplify its potential. Do you approve of the plan?”
Jaune stared, his skin prickling. “Uh… yeah. Sure. Do… that thing.”
Later, as Mercy handed him a datapad, she slipped up. “Player,” she said flatly, before hastily correcting herself. “I mean… Lex.”
“What did you just call me?” he demanded.
“Nothing, sir,” she replied, her expression unreadable.
The inconsistencies gnawed at him. This world—this park—isn’t real. But if it’s breaking down, maybe I can use that to my advantage.
Mercy burst into the room, her usual composure replaced by urgency. “Sir, there’s a situation. Gorilla Grodd and Ra’s al Ghul are both demanding meetings—at the same time.”
Jaune pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. Two villains, no resources, and no idea what I’m doing. This is going to be a disaster.
But somewhere deep inside, a flicker of determination ignited. If he was stuck here, he wasn’t going down without a fight.