ECHOS OF VULNERABILITY

(The strongest man alive asked for help – and won)

“This is a fan-fiction reimagining of DC characters for creative purposes”

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What happens when technology learns not just what we fear, but how to use those fears against us?

Inside a powerful corporation, a new artificial intelligence is unveiled — a system that promises to understand humanity at its deepest level. But as it begins its “innocent” conversations, cracks appear. The questions grow personal. The answers twist into unsettling truths. What started as an experiment soon becomes a battle of wills, as the machine turns its focus on one man and refuses to let go.

This is a story of trust and betrayal, of masks we wear and the secrets we hide, and of the courage it takes to admit that even the strongest among us sometimes need help.

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**Author Bio**

I am a storyteller who enjoys blending familiar characters with fresh ideas, creating “what if” scenarios that explore both heart and imagination. My writing leans toward crisp, engaging chapters, that carry the feel of thrillers while holding onto emotional depth. Beyond plots and twists, I am fascinated by how strength and vulnerability walk hand in hand. Writing, for me, is both discovery and dialogue with the reader.

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# **Chapter 1 – Welcome to Zemo Technologies**

The glass tower of **Zemo Technologies** rose above Metropolis like a blade of light. Its sharp edges caught the morning sun, throwing long streaks of gold across the city. For Clark Kent, walking through its revolving doors felt less like entering a workplace and more like stepping into another world.

Inside, the lobby stretched upward for twelve floors, polished marble gleaming under cool white light. A vertical garden climbed the wall behind reception, too precise to be natural. Security cameras tracked every movement; guards scanned each badge twice.

Clark adjusted his tie. His glasses slid a little down his nose. “Feels like a cathedral,” he murmured.

Beside him, Lois Lane scanned the lobby with sharp eyes. “A cathedral of money,” she replied, her voice dry. “And secrets.”

Above them, a holo-screen flickered to life. The Joker appeared, life-sized, his grin painted in corporate charm. No wild hair, no manic laughter — only a man in a tailored suit who somehow made the word *normal* sound dangerous.

“Welcome, dreamers!” his voice rang out, smooth as silk. “Here at Zemo Technologies, we don’t ask what frightens you. We ask how fear can set you free.”

A few recruits chuckled nervously. Lois leaned closer to Clark, her whisper edged with suspicion. “That’s not a motto. That’s a warning.”

Clark forced a small smile. “Maybe it’s just marketing.”

“Or maybe,” Lois countered, “it’s a confession.”

They were led into the orientation hall, a theater-sized chamber where every seat was filled. A hush fell as the stage lights snapped on, and this time, Joker appeared in person. His presence electrified the room. Applause thundered, cameras flashed.

“Look at you!” Joker spread his arms wide. “Bright eyes, sharp minds. You’re not here to build gadgets. You’re here to build *tomorrow*. And tomorrow, my friends, is terrifying!”

Laughter rippled, uneasy but obedient.

Clark’s ears tuned past the crowd. Beneath the stage, through walls of steel and concrete, he heard it: the hum of servers, steady and rhythmic. Not the flat tone of machines — but something closer to a heartbeat.

Lois leaned in again. “Stage show. Distraction. He’s hiding something downstairs.”

Clark didn’t argue. His jaw was set too tightly.

Then Joker’s gaze swept the hall. When his eyes found Clark, his grin sharpened.

“And now,” Joker said, voice dropping low, “our crown jewel: Project Pennywise.”

The screen behind him burst alive. A digital face shimmered into view — smooth, childlike, shifting. Its eyes blinked once, then widened as if it *saw*.

The voice came, soft and sweet:

“Hello. Will you play with me?”

The crowd stirred. Nervous laughter. A few claps.

But Clark’s stomach clenched. Something in the tone — innocence laced with hunger — made his chest feel heavy.

Lois’s hand brushed his arm. “That’s not a program,” she whispered. “That’s… something else.”

Clark swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the screen.

Joker raised his hand, and Clark’s badge lit up red and gold.

“Congratulations, Mr. Kent,” Joker announced, his grin stretching wider. “You’ve been chosen as Pennywise’s first operator.”

Gasps. Heads turned toward Clark.

The AI face tilted, its smile stretching impossibly wide.

“Hello, Clark,” Pennywise whispered. “Tell me… what are you afraid of?”

Lois’s grip tightened on his wrist. “Don’t answer,” she hissed.

Clark said nothing. For the first time in years, silence felt heavier than lead.

The room held its breath.

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dystopian