Lex suddenly became keenly aware of the madness of this city and its people.
When someone said they wanted to become a god, how would you react?
Most people would laugh it off as an unfunny joke. A very small number of serious-minded people might tell the lunatic to visit the Psychiatry Department.
Even Lex Luthor himself was merely following his nature, hoping to control the world in some way that satisfied him, unleash his instincts, and pursue his desires.
But Schiller said that he saw art in it and was willing to pay an astonishing price to appreciate that beauty up close.
There was no doubt that since Schiller had seen through the plan, he knew that one day, as a participant, he would have to pay something for it. It would certainly be a great deal, and he would gain almost nothing.
This was a trap in itself. If Schiller had failed to see through it and become deeply ensnared, Lex could only say he deserved it. But Schiller had seen it clearly and still jumped in. Lex could only suspect that he had gone mad.
Schiller was not mad. Lex had long since reached that conclusion. Schiller Rodriguez might possess many traits that differed from ordinary people, but most of those abnormalities stemmed from his spectrum traits. He was not the utterly chaotic sort of lunatic. He was clearheaded and rational.
But perhaps he no longer was.
That clearheaded professor had left at some unknown point. What now occupied this shell was some bizarre thing that even Lex did not know how to define.
He said the trap Lex had drawn was beautiful, that he intended to go down and take a look. Then he tricked Lex into redrawing the trap he had already erased, leaped in