The massive energy surge erupting from Apokolips drew little attention beyond the world it scorched. Meanwhile, back on Earth, the Justice Society was still deep in coordinated battle strategy against the sudden emergence of the Titan beasts.
Through careful orchestration, Godzilla had successfully been lured toward Kong. From afar, they had already locked eyes—each sensing the bizarre and hostile energy radiating from the other.
Kong had reached Island first, swimming across under Shazam's direction. Godzilla was close behind, though unlike Kong, he had been fighting Black Adam all the way there.
"He's in position, Hourman."
Black Adam hovered in midair, watching the towering silhouette of Godzilla closing in. He leapt back to widen the distance—and at that moment, hurled a metal sphere with all his might toward Kong's direction.
"I still don't know what this thing is exactly, but if this tech device does what we think, it should give these two every reason to start brawling."
Hourman responded through comms:
(According to intel, that metallic sphere you found in the Batcave is most likely Mecha-Godzilla's eye. The energy signature embedded in it is highly attractive—and possibly enraging—to Godzilla.)
"So that explains why Godzilla kept trying to breach Gotham," Kara muttered, trailing behind the beast.
(Exactly. That tech is the pinnacle of another universe's science. What I don't get is—how did that fake Alex manage to smuggle it here?)
As the heroes debated over comms, Godzilla and Kong had already collided in raw, primal fury.
There was no sizing each other up—no show of dominance or hesitation. It was like watching two ancient enemies reunite. They roared instantly, the sound deafening. Kong pounded his chest like war drums while Godzilla's spines glowed ominously.
Unlike Godzilla's thick, reptilian mass, Kong's half-hominid form gave him an agility edge. As Godzilla tried to plant himself on the island's surface, Kong leapt in and landed a crushing punch straight to his skull.
The impact was thunderous. Godzilla staggered back, his monstrous frame shuddering under the blow. The entire island shook, the ocean raged, waves devoured the shore—and it seemed the landmass itself was beginning to sink.
"Hourman, I've never seen the movies—but from the looks of this, do you really think Kong stands a chance against Godzilla?"
Kara frowned, analyzing the battlefield. Though Kong had the upper hand for now, any sharp eye could see this was a momentary advantage. Once Godzilla adapted, Kong wouldn't last.
The crucial difference? Godzilla carried within him a vast well of nuclear energy—an uncontrollable, devastating force far beyond human grasp. His potential ceiling was vastly higher.
(I can't say for certain. But making the Titans fight each other is our best-case scenario. If they united to strike against human civilization, then when Darkseid arrives, we'd be completely screwed.)
Hourman's voice was grim. Then, he switched channels, addressing Nightwing: (Nightwing, any update on Alex? Still no contact?)
"No luck," Nightwing replied. "For people like us, Alex might as well be a god. We're not meant to track his movements. But according to Dean and Sam, he's gone off on his own… to stop Darkseid."
"Alone…" Kara echoed softly, her expression darkening with concern.
Given what she knew about Alex, Kara was certain—if he didn't have absolute confidence, he would never take such a risk. The very fact that Alex had chosen to confront Darkseid head-on meant there was a reason he had to do it. Still, knowing that didn't ease Kara's concern.
They'd fought Darkseid before—Alex included—and back then, he hadn't even been able to withstand a single blow from the tyrant of Apokolips. Even with Kara's help, the battle had nearly cost them both their lives.
If not for the last-minute power infusion Alex had received from the Trigon, it was doubtful either of them would have walked away.
Time had passed since then. Kara herself had grown significantly stronger, and she believed Alex had, too. But the specter of Darkseid… it still hung over her like a blade waiting to fall.
Yet, while all eyes were focused on the impending cosmic war, in another corner of the city, a dark scheme was quietly unfolding.
Gotham City — Arkham Asylum.
Batman slowly regained consciousness. He didn't open his eyes immediately—instead, he instinctively began listening to his surroundings.
From the scent alone, he already knew where he was. The smell was all too familiar. The way his body jostled slightly confirmed the rest—he was being wheeled through a corridor.
"If you're awake, drop the act. You might be able to regulate your breathing, but your heartbeat stuttered for just a moment. It was faint—but in my ears, that was obvious."
As Batman assessed his condition, a young voice rang out with playful sarcasm. That alone made Batman's heart sink.
He cracked his eyes open.
He was strapped to a wheelchair. The restraints weren't ordinary rope—whatever material it was, it didn't budge when he flexed against it.
"You're not from this world, are you?" Batman said calmly. "Why are you helping that guy invade ours?"
"Helping?" the young man laughed and shook his head.
"No, no, no. We're just partners. My family's will is to rule all civilizations. I've already helped my father conquer my universe. Right when I started getting bored, Alex found me. He told me there are infinite multiverses out there—each waiting to be conquered. Do you have any idea what that meant to me?"
"That man isn't Alex," Batman replied firmly. "I don't know what he is, but he's not Alex. You've been deceived."
"Not Alex... maybe, maybe not. Doesn't really matter," the young man replied casually. "I don't even know who Alex is. But he didn't lie to me—because he brought me here. A fresh universe, ripe for the taking."
"With that kind of power, you could've done something better," Batman said, but before he could finish, the young man cut him off sharply.
"You think I didn't notice you trying to send out a signal?"
He halted, walked around to face Batman, and with a disturbing smile, crushed the Bat-gauntlet—along with the bones of Batman's wrist.
Batman winced, but didn't make a sound.
Now face-to-face, he got a clearer look at his captor.
Calling him a "man" might be generous—he looked barely twenty. Young, cocky, with a constant smirk. But there was a sharp cruelty to his actions that marked him as something far from normal.
People like him... were always the most dangerous.
"You should be grateful you're still useful. Otherwise, I'd have ended you already. I wouldn't be pushing you down this hallway, that's for sure."
The young man resumed pushing the wheelchair.
"You know," he continued cheerfully, "My world had a group like you. Guardians of the Globe. A seven-man squad. I used to admire them... until I realized my true purpose. Then I understood—people like you, these so-called superheroes—you're all just sad little fools."
"If striving for peace is pathetic," Batman replied coolly, "then you're welcome to think that."
The young man chuckled, unbothered. "You know, you remind me of one of the Defenders from my Earth. No powers, just tech gadgets and fancy tricks. Kinda adorable, really."
He actually laughed out loud at that.
"But he was Black. You're... not."
"I've always wanted to be like my father. He wiped out all of Guardians of the Globe with his own hands. I never got that chance. But now? Meeting you? I'm really excited. I hope your friends give me the chance to fulfill that dream."
Batman simply stared ahead.
"You'll regret meeting them," he said coldly.
It wasn't long before the young man pushed Batman into a sealed chamber at the end of the hall—one of Arkham Asylum's most secure rooms. The kind used to hold only the most deranged and dangerous of Gotham's criminals.
As Batman was pushed into the dimly lit room, a wave of thick, metallic stench hit him in the face, causing him to frown instinctively.
He glanced inside, puzzled—and then he saw it.
In the flickering candlelight, bodies were piled carelessly in the corners of the room. Dismembered limbs, blood-smeared walls, and gore-stained floors made the whole place look like a massacre site. The corpses were twisted, torn apart, and soaked in crimson.
From the uniforms, it was obvious—most of the dead were Arkham Asylum staff and inmates. Batman even spotted the corpse of the third Firefly, and—shockingly—the previous human host of Sabacc, the one Alex had captured and brought in before.
Even though he had mentally braced himself for something gruesome, the sight still unsettled Batman more than he expected.
Just then, the quiet sound of clapping—slow, deliberate—drew his attention.
He shifted his gaze.
From within the shadows at the center of the room, a man sitting casually in a chair slowly emerged into view, stepping forward at an unhurried pace. And as the stranger's face emerged from the darkness, Batman's eyes narrowed.
The man looked exactly like Alex. Identical in every detail.
...
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