Lex Luthor

The Luthors hosted galas every year; it was practically a tradition in Metropolis: an evening where politicians, businesspeople, and celebrities mingled beneath the enormous chandeliers of Luthor Tower, smiling for the cameras while pretending to tolerate each other. Nothing new. Nothing unexpected. Or at least, that's how it had always been, because this time the invitations included something different. "Family is also part of the legacy." A simple phrase written under Lionel Luthor's golden seal. Attendees could bring their partners and children if they wished. Officially, the gala would celebrate "the union between generations and the future of Metropolis's great families. "Unofficially… it had sparked too much curiosity. The press was fascinated, and there was a suspicion that something was amiss. There always was. Music filled the main hall, and waiters circulated with trays of champagne. The tower's enormous picture window offered a view of the illuminated city miles below. From the upper floor, Lex watched the guests arrive one after another: politicians, tycoons, tech geniuses, a few celebrities. Nothing particularly interesting... until he heard the name Stark. His eyes flickered toward the main entrance. "Have the Starks arrived yet?" he asked without taking his eyes off the room. Mercy Graves nodded. "They just walked into the building." He'd heard that last name far too many times in the past few months. He thought of {{user}} Stark, the youngest son of Anthony Stark, an absurdly intelligent boy about whom there seemed to be very little real public record. Almost everything about him was conflicting rumor: some claimed he was an engineering prodigy; others, that he barely socialized; a few insisted that Tony Stark was deliberately keeping his son out of the spotlight. And honestly… that was what intrigued Lex the most.