Jon Kent: Made Of Steel(Superboy Self Insert)

More advance chapters on [email protected]/Saintbarbido. 

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-General P.O.V-

The rooftop was quiet. Not peaceful—just quiet. 

The kind of stillness that came with too much tension to break. The Motherbox in Jon's hand pulsed faintly, its hum crawling under the skin of everyone present.

The figure that had emerged from the boom tube wasn't what they expected.

Metron didn't walk. He didn't glide. He was. 

The Mobius Chair carried him forward, its lights a language no one could read, its hum louder than the Motherbox now. 

His face was an equation—no anger, no pity, just cold logic.

"Mortals," he said, looking down at them. Not contemptuous, just matter-of-fact.

His gaze swept over them, impersonal but invasive. He looked at them like they were tools he might use—or discard. That gaze finally landed upon Jon. 

"Speak of what you need."

Jon cleared his throat, "We seek a Phantom Zone projector."

Metron studied him some more, "Youre not just a Kryptonian but a hybrid." he mused, leaning back slightly. "And something else. A fracture in the pattern." His eyes narrowed. "An anomaly."

Then, as though Jon had ceased to exist, Metron's attention turned to the others.

"Richard Grayson. The orphan who wears his pain like a mask, though it slips more than you realize. Conner Kent, A shadow of one life, aching for another. And Barbara Gordon—watching from the wings, but not unseen."

Barbara's voice cracked with forced brevity, "Well, that's not unnerving at all."

"Don't call her that," Robin said sharply. Unlike them, Barbara was normal, untrained and powerless incase someone found out her real identity. It could put her and her family in grave danger. 

Metron smiled faintly. "Oracle then. A name chosen for vision and wisdom. Names have power." He looked back at Jon. "Just as yours does, Jon-El."

Jon didn't flinch under the scrutiny. "Lex Luthor is a threat we can't contain any other way. The Phantom Zone is the only option."

Metron tilted his head. "Ah. Morality. A construct of the finite." His voice wasn't mocking. It didn't need to be.

"Don't care. You willing to trade or what? Otherwise stop wasting our time."

Jon held his ground.

"The Phantom Zone projector is not a tool. It is a key," Metron continued. "Keys lock doors. But they also open them. What will you offer in exchange?"

Robin and the others stiffened behind him.

"What do you want?" Jon asked evenly.

"Jon, I don't think this is a good idea anymore."

Dick tried to intervene, only for Jon to throw him a look that made Boy Wonder go silent. 

Metron steepled his fingers, as though the question had been a gift. "What do I want? The Kryptonian Codex within your DNA comes to mind. Or an artifact—the Helmet of Fate, Aquaman's trident for my collection. Perhaps... an oath. You, Jon-El, when all your incredible potential evolves into undeniable power and authority, bound to serve me when called."

Barbara broke the tension. "You don't need any of that. You're Metron, God of Knowledge. Omniscient, right? You already know what we'll say."

Metron turned to her, something like amusement flickering in his eyes. "Omniscient, yes. Omnipotent, no. Knowledge is power, Oracle. And the power your friend seeks must be earned. Your Power for my Power."

Barbara looked ready for a come back. 

But... 

"What about my aura?" Jon cut through their debate before it could start, body rippling with a blue and white electric field. 

Metron's gaze snapped back to him, sharp and hungry. The morbius chair slowly floated closer.

"Your bio-electric aura." Metron aid it like a discovery. 

"Is it magic, psionic, biology or scientific. Perhaps all? Or neither?A phenomenon I have not encountered before. Yes. Yes...That would suffice."

A smile split the New God's face. 

"What do I have to do?"

Jon asked. 

Metron tapped his chin. "Show it to me."

The rooftop dissolved before Jon could reply. All at once, he found himself in another place. 

-0-

-Jon's P.O.V-

The moment the rooftop dissappeared, I knew it was Metron's doing. 

The Morbius Chair had lit up just before my surroundings changed. I'd been transported me into a simulation.

One meant to test me, to showcase my power, particularly the Bio-electric aura. It was only fitting that this place looked like a battlefield. 

The ground beneath me was black, cracked like a dried-out riverbed. And stretched out as far as the horizon. Far enough that even my eyes couldn't see the edge. 

Above, the sky churned in a deep, bloody red. No wind. No sound but the low hum of something alive and ancient in the air. 

It felt wrong, like stepping into a place that didn't, shouldn't exist. 

And I was alone in the center of this black desert. 

That said, I could somehow perceive my friends at the edges of this false space. Faces probably twisted in frustration, mouths moving without sound, trying to threaten Metron to let me go...

They couldn't save me, no matter what they tried. Even if they fought. Metron may not be a god of War but he was still a New God. 

Speaking of the devil, 

Metron's voice cut through the quiet like a blade. "This is your trial, Jon-El. Your aura must endure. Or it will not." 

I was about to respond when I saw it—movement in the air, then a shape... 

A figure stepped forward, and my breath caught in my throat. 

It was me. 

Twisted. Wrong. But undeniably me. 

His—or its—eyes glowed a deep, hellish red. Dressed in the same black clothes I was. The smile on his face was the worst part, though. It was calm, mocking, like he already knew something I didn't. 

"Jon," the copy said, his voice lower than mine, heavier. "You can't escape what's coming. Darkseid saw you. You my 'self' royally Fucked up." 

My stomach dropped.

I didn't even get a second to process his words. 

Dark tendrils shot out of him, aimed straight for me. My aura flared instinctively, blocking the attack, just like Metron wanted. But the force of it sent me skidding back more than a dozen feet. 

The air cracked where the Tendrils clashed with my aura, the sound like thunder, but the thing wearing my face didn't stop. 

It pressed the attack with a blitzing and direct lunge, like it knew It could keep up. 

I jumped away and we started streaking around the space at speedster speeds, blocking the tendrils with my aura without dodging. 

"You'll fall," the copy said, every word dripping with venom. "Darkseid will come for you. For your family. For your precious team. You looked into the void, and the void looked back!" 

The void. 

A chill ran down my spine, colder than any fear I'd felt before. He wasn't just threatening me—he was telling me the truth. 

I fired a blast of heat vision, cutting through the dark tendrils, but he laughed. 

"You've forgotten how to kill," the shadow taunted, stopping. "But I haven't. I remember. And I know you miss it." 

The words hit like a punch to the gut. 

I stumbled, the bio-electric field fading away as my guard momentarily slipped. Just for a fraction of a second. But for someone as fast as I, it was enough for him to land a hit.

The tendrils slammed into me, knocking the air from my lungs and sending me to the ground. 

I've...I've never been hit that hard before. 

I gasped, trying to catch my breath, but his voice was still there, heavy in my ears. 

"Darkseid knows you, Jon-El. He sees the cracks in your armor. The blood you've shed. The blood you want to shed." 

"No," I spat, forcing myself to my feet. My aura flickered, dimmer now. 

"Oh, but you do," the copy hissed, stepping closer. "Killing feels good, doesn't it? You've done it before. Deep down, you miss it. The power. The finality. You miss being what you were born to be—a weapon." 

"Jon!" a voice reached me, faint but enough to cut through the darkness creeping into my head. 

I clenched my fists, letting my aura flare brighter again. "You're wrong," I growled, locking eyes with him. "I don't miss it. And I don't need it." 

His smile didn't falter. "Keep telling yourself that."

He lunged, faster this time, but I didn't hesitate. I met him head-on, pouring my Light magic into my bio-aura, caausing it to blazing brighter than ever. 

It was everything I had into it—all my fear, all my anger, all the parts of myself I didn't want to admit were there. 

The light swallowed us both, so blinding that for a second, I wasn't sure if I was still standing. 

When the light faded, the battlefield was empty. 

Except for me. 

As the red sky dimmed and the ground began to crack apart, his voice lingered, soft but still cutting. 

"You can't run from what you are, me. Darkseid is inevitable. Darkseid Is. And so are we..." 

The laughter faded away and the battlefield dissolved. I was back on the rooftop.

The air was cool again. Normal. But I couldn't breathe right. 

I stood there, still as stone, the weight of what I'd just seen pressing down on me. 

What...what have I done? 

"Jon?" Robin's voice broke through the haze. 

I blinked, forcing myself to look at him. "I'm fine." 

It sounded hollow, even to me. 

Robin didn't buy it. His eyes narrowed as they flicked to Metron. "What the hell was that?" 

Metron's voice was calm, dismissive. "A test. An Exchange. A trade." 

"That's not an answer," Robin snapped, stepping forward. 

Metron's gaze settled on him. "You presume to demand explanations from me, Richard Grayson. Do not overreach." 

I reached out, grabbing Robin'ss arm before he could say more. "Dick," I said quietly. "Let it go." 

Metron turned back to me, reaching into a portal beside his Mobius Chair. He pulled out a long device shaped like a gun with a wide barrel, the Phantom Zone projector, holding it out like it was nothing more than a trinket. 

"You've earned this," he said. "But remember, Jon-El: the Phantom Zone is not a prison. It is a delay. Lex Luthor will not remain contained forever." 

I took the device, the weight of it heavier than it should have been. It didn't feel worth it. Worth of Darkseid's interest. But it HAD to be. 

Metron lingered, his tone shifting to something darker. "You've seen the shadow of what's to come. Expect more. Betrayals. Losses. And a darkness you may not overcome, next time." 

The Boom Tube flared behind him, swallowing the Morbius Chair whole. 

His final words hung in the air long after he was gone. 

"And Jon-el, Darkseid will be watching you now." 

---

The rooftop grew quiet again, but the silence felt suffocating now. 

Robin broke it first. "The projector, we need to test it." 

"No," I said firmly, my voice sharper than I intended. "Not yet." 

Connor stepped closer, his hand resting on my shoulder. "You sure you're okay?" 

I nodded, but it wasn't true. "Let's focus on what's next." 

The others left the rooftop. 

I stayed. 

Staring at the stars, I could still hear him—the shadow's voice, the way it cut through me, dragging every fear I had to the surface. 

Darkseid was watching. 

And I didn't know if I could stop him. Fuck. 

"One thing at a time...first, Luthor then Darkseid...one step at a time."

I whispered to myself, staring at the projector in my hands. 

"One enemy at a time..."