"Welp," I said. "Next time on Mis aventuras con Superman …"
"Something muerta ?" I asked, pulling out my phone. "Because I know a girl."
We entered the Spire. The lobby was a mess of shattered glass and frozen security guards—literally frozen. Ice crystals crept up the walls. In the center, Lois was tied to a chair, arguing with the clone. Mis aventuras con Superman 2x3
"A clone?" She laughed, a sound like dry leaves skittering on a coffin lid. "Honey, that's not a clone. That's a revenant . Someone stuffed a dead Kryptonian template with the rage of a hundred lost souls. The big guy in blue can punch it. I have to unravel it."
"That's the third time this week, Jimmy," Lois said, shoving her phone in my face. "Three different people with the exact same retinal pattern. It's not a glitch. It's a clone glitch." "Welp," I said
That’s when the window exploded.
"Uh, guys?" she said, her face paling. "I just got a ping from STAR Labs. Someone broke into the Kryptonian archives last night." The lobby was a mess of shattered glass
It began, as many of my disasters do, with a lack of caffeine. I, Jimmy Olsen, was running on three hours of sleep and a stale donut. Lois was already in full bulldog mode, chasing a lead about a shadowy new tech startup called "Nexus Genetics" that had sprouted like a poisonous flower in Metropolis’s Suicide Slums.