DC - The Path to Supremacy

As he watched Superman fly off, an indifferent smile made its way onto Aizen's lips. He chuckles softly, silently musing to himself, "Superman, huh." 

Aizen makes his way downstairs using the elevator. The elevator, rusty and hiding a musty smell, creaks and groans under the strain of movement. Exiting the building, he receives strange glances from Onlookers and passersby. 

Through the reflection in their eyes, Aizen spots himself, his charismatic visage, his mirthful smile, and the cloth draped around his waste. 

Ignoring the gazes, Aiven turns and walks in a particular direction, as if his destination is already in mind. After walking a few blocks down the road, passing buildings of myriad colors and architecture, Aizen stops in front of a Clothing store named Urban Threadworks. The automated door opens after sensing his presence as if inviting him in.

Aizen calmly enters the store, but not before giving the automatic door a second glance. "The technology of this world doesn't seem much different than that of the world of the living." A waft of cold air brushes his skin, chasing away the humid air of the city outside. 

A nearby security guard of African American descent draped in a black coat and a matching black cap quickly spots the practically naked man. Though not approaching, the security guard silently keeps an eye on Aizen, following his every move with his eyes. 

With a smile still plastered on his face, Aizen steps towards the cashier; sidestepping the candy aisle near the entrance, the wrappers crinkling faintly under the cold air from the store's vents, he passed a small fridge stocked with energy drinks, along with the several unoccupied checkout aisles that lined his path.

Finally, Aizen nears the somewhat emaciated Latina, her rough, callused hands gracefully dancing across her workstation, scanning items with speed and finesse. 

As Aizen approaches, his footsteps are muted by the soft jazz playing on the surround sound system in the store; he catches a customer off guard when he taps the man on the shoulder. The man, pale in appearance, turns his neck at the sudden tap; his eyes visibly widen at the sight of a man draped in nothing but a towel suddenly appearing behind him. 

As if perceiving a certain thought or remembering a distant memory, the pale man's buttocks stiffly clenched in apprehension, and he quickly stepped to the side. 

Perhaps feeling the sudden commotion behind them, the other customers in line turn around as well, only to spot the ever-so-smiling Aizen; although their reactions differ slightly, they all step aside, allowing Aizen to pass through. 

Nodding his head in gratitude, Aizen steps in front of the cashier, who, after throwing a casual glance, was unable to extricate herself from Aizen's well-toned abs. 

"Excuse me, miss, can I have a bit of your time?" Aizen begins. Without waiting for her response, he continued, "As you can see, I'm in a bit of a conundrum, and I was wondering if you could help me out. All of my items, including my wallet, were stolen. There wouldn't happen to be any defective clothing that hasn't been gotten rid of yet, is there? If so, would you be so kind as to help me out?"

As Aizen speaks, he originally plans to gauge her reaction and shift his words to slowly convince her to acquiesce to his request, but noticing her fixation on his body and listening to the quickening of her breathing and heart rate, Aizen instead lowers his voice whilst sharpening his tone, appealing to his brief conclusion of her preference. 

"Ye...Yes," dazedly, she agrees. 

"Marcus," turning to the coworker behind her, who is swiftly cleaning up his workstation, She continues, "can you take over for me real quick?" 

"Sure, Go ahead." Taking an envious glance at Aizen, Marcus, a light-skinned male who is slightly obese in appearance, makes his way over while grumbling under his breath. 

---

"What's your name?" Aizen interrupts the brief silence as the duo makes their way towards the rear of the store.

"Jenna... My name is Jenna Heart. What is yours?" 

"I'm Sōsuke Aizen.

By the way, I forgot to thank you for lending me a helping hand, You have no idea how awkward I'm feeling right now." Stated Aizen as he muses internally, 'truly awkward. This strange world obviously has such a weak concentration of reishi, yet for some reason, my senses are telling me that there is a terrifying amount of reishi surrounding me.' 

"It's no problem. I am always happy to lend a helping hand. Umm... Sukoke Asen, You said... sorry, your name is a bit challenging to pronounce. Are you Chinese by any chance?" Jenna asks, staring up at Aizen in curiosity. 

"Hmm..." Aizen didn't respond. Instead, he stared at her with a polite smile. 

"soooo... no?" Jenna continues the conversation; I only asked because I was born and raised here in Metropolis. Never really got to see the outside world. You don't seem to be from around here; your accent and mannerisms are... unique; you must have seen quite a few places?"

"Outside world... "Aizen repeats, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as if he could pierce through and view the stars above, their shimmering brilliance masked by the light of the wildly burning sun.

"So far, I've only seen bits and pieces of this world; you've most likely seen much more than I have."

The duo finally made their way to a secluded back room. The room has a peculiar smell, mixed with the freshness of new fabric and the chemical synthetic smell of packed reagents. 

"You can pick anything you like from here," stated Jenna. She then leaned slightly closer, whispering in an almost sneaky tone, "Though I recommend the clothing in the back left, although they are labeled as defective, they are actually perfectly fine; they are here because they are in excess quantity. We don't do sales here, so we have no choice but to get rid of them." 

"Ohh... Noted," Aizen responds in the same whispering tone. 

"Also," Reaching into her pocket, Jenna pulls out a crumpled piece of blank paper and a pen; scribbling down a few numbers, she hands the paper to Aizen, "If you need a place to stay, you can come to this address. I have a spare room," Jenna forces her face to remain stoic, but her obvious blush betrays her.

"Thank you." Taking the paper from her hand, Aizen lets out a false albeit sincere-looking smile. "Even if the room isn't needed, I'll be sure to stop by to say, 'hi.'"

---

Watching Jenna practically hop away, Aizen turns his now indifferent gaze to the racks of clothing. The soft rustle of fabric as he brushed past coats and shirts barely registered to him. His mind already wandered off to his current situation. After merging with his Zanpakuto, his reliance on Kyoka Suigetsu significantly diminished. 

Aizen's fingers grazed across a pair of denim Jeans, causing the rough fabric to morph into heavy white cotton Kacki pants. "An illusion so strong, It fools reality—Interesting."

Reaching out his hand into the air, A pair of underwear materializes out of thin air. 

While putting them on, Aizen's hair flutters as he slowly releases his spiritual pressure while ensuring his aura doesn't leave the room. The metal racks let out a groan under pressure; Dirt, dust, and even pieces of fabric begin to float in reverse. Snapping his fingers, the transformed pants, a pair of dark red socks, white dress shoes, a Dark red dress shirt, and a platinum white tuxedo all float towards him—gently wearing themselves on his body. 

As soon as he's fully clothed—Boom! 

A muffled explosion that remained contained within the room reverberated as Aizen released the entirety of his spiritual pressure; space warps around him, and all the remaining items disintegrated into the most basic atoms. Time seems to freeze, broken into fragments, and through the fragments, one can peer into several intermittences of reality.

Through one shard, one can see several individuals dressed in employee attire, carrying clothing into the room; through another lies the scene of the room being constructed, and another shows—Destruction; a thick layer of dust covers everything. Racks of clothing were overturned or reduced to skeletal frames, charred and blackened, with the edges warped as if melted by an intense heat. The air was thick and still, carrying the faint scent of something burned long ago, yet lingering, oppressive. In one corner, a twisted, metal object—perhaps once a lamp—sat, bent unnaturally, as though force had gripped it from all sides.

What remained of the ceiling hung precariously, beams exposed and hanging like broken bones. Outside, through the gaping holes in the wall, the horizon was nothing but a wasteland of ruins, with distant structures standing like blackened, crumbling tombstones under a sky that had lost its color.

After taking another glance at the final shard, Aizen suddenly feels a palpitation, as if some indescribable entity threw his gaze over to his direction; the gaze came with the putrid smell of sulfur and an intense bloodlust. Frowning, Aizen quickly, though calmly, removes the pressure and taps his foot onto the void where the floor once was. 

As if in rewind, the room returns to the state it was prior, with the only difference being the few missing pieces of clothing. 

"So, over 95% of my spiritual pressure is suppressed."

Shaking his head in annoyance, Aizen leaves the room. Making his way towards the exit, walking past the checkout lane, Aizen waves goodbye to Jenna, mouths a thank you with a smile, and leaves the store.

Aizen strolls about, observing the surrounding pedestrians while briefly remembering that entity he felt. 

"Barely an hour in, and I already met someone who could take me on—even if my strength wasn't suppressed." 

For the first time in several millennia, a truly happy smile makes its way onto Aizen's lips.

After walking for a few minutes, Aizen stops in front of a grand Structure. Its exterior is a blend of classic and imposing architecture. Tall columns flanked the entrance, their stone surfaces weathered by time. The building's façade was crafted from pale limestone and intricately carved with ornate designs. High above the entrance, large arched windows with iron-framed panes reflected the sky, their curved tops adorned with detailed engravings of ivy and scrollwork.

A wide staircase led up to the grand double doors, framed by heavy wooden beams and brass handles that gleamed faintly in the daylight. 

Making his way up the stairs, the door automatically opens, allowing for Aizen's entery. As he enters, Aizen spots the shimmering welcome mat placed at the entrance where five words are plastered in brown oak: 'Welcome to Grand Oak Library.'

---

In an expansive office located in a high-rise building with floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a sweeping view of Metropolis, A man in a dark gray suit stands, gazing through the glass at the city that stretches out like an empire under his control. The gleaming LuthorCorp Tower, the tallest building in the city, punctuates the skyline.

The office itself is sleek and modern, dominated by sharp lines and minimalistic design. The walls are paneled with dark wood, giving the space a sophisticated and slightly intimidating feel, while steel accents throughout the room add a cold, industrial edge. A large, imposing desk made of black marble sits at the center, its surface spotless except for a few carefully placed items—a silver desk lamp, a sleek tablet, and a set of custom-made pens. Behind the desk is an oversized black leather chair, capable of giving its occupant an almost throne-like presence when seated.

Shelves line the walls, filled with books on business, strategy, and science, alongside several framed achievements, awards, and degrees. A few items, like ancient relics or high-tech prototypes, sit on display.

There are no unnecessary distractions; everything in the room serves a purpose, just like Luthor himself. Even the artwork—a few abstract, geometric pieces—seems chosen to reflect his appreciation for control, order, and logic.

"Is everything in order," Lex asks in a tone bordering on command rather than query. 

"Everything is in place," Mercy Graves, standing by the door, dressed in a professional black dress. Responds in a calm yet casual tone.

"We're just waiting for a slip-up so the operation can start."

"No need to wait." clenching his fist in front of him as if grasping something, Lex continues. "who knows when the desired accident will happen? I heard Edward Nygma has escaped Arkham. Get him a train ticket to Metropolis."

"Understood, Mr. Luther." 

With a click, the door behind her closes shut, leaving Lex alone in the room, Still gazing out the window. 

Unclenching his fist. Lex places his thumb and index finger near his eye as if holding something tiny. Peering through his fingers, one can see a distinct silhouette hovering in the far distance.

Lex crushes his fingers together as if pinching the distant silhouette into dust. 

"Man of Steel," he muttered, his tone dripping with contempt. With a smirk, Lex turns around and returns to his seat.