It wasn't until the Sentry actually stepped forward and stood in front of Alex that Clayface realized—with growing dread—that Alex wasn't the only one who had come through the Speed Force rift. Hidden within that crimson corridor… something else had come along too.
The Speed Force tunnel pulsed violently. In an instant, the entire structure of Arkham Asylum collapsed. The sheer force of the energy being released turned falling debris into ash, reducing the building to nothing but scattered ruins.
But even as daylight broke through the ruins above, it didn't bring Batman any relief. His entire focus was now locked on the golden figure who had just appeared.
"That kind of power… is that the one you mentioned before?"
Alex, arms folded, nodded. "Robert Reynolds. The Sentry. The strongest 'mortal' on Earth today."
As he spoke, the Speed Force tunnel shrieked again—and two more figures leapt out with effortless precision.
One of them bore a massive skull emblem across his chest. The other was holding arcane seals between his fingers, already channeling spells. They flanked the Sentry without hesitation, standing firm, eyes locked on the enemy ahead.
"Well, if it isn't Mr. Strange and Mr. Castle. It's been a while," Alex said with a calm smile, now that his reinforcements had arrived.
"Can the chatter," the Punisher snapped, holding an axe in one hand and a shotgun in the other. "Let's call this payback for helping us purge that corruption. These two are ours."
"You found a way to get rid of the corruption?" Batman asked in disbelief.
"I just replaced their pollution with mine," Alex answered casually. "Give me enough time and I can overwrite anything."
Then, glancing at Doctor Strange, Alex added, "Don't hold back. These two weren't saints to begin with."
"I'll do what I can," Strange replied calmly. "Though it's been a long time since I last fought someone human."
With a swift motion, Strange raised his hand, conjuring a stream of ghostly green hellfire and launching it straight at Mark, standing behind Omni-Man Nolan.
Mark, born of a Viltrumite and a human, inherited his father's monstrous strength and his mother's Earth-born adaptability. At this point, he was every bit as powerful in combat as Nolan himself.
And then it began.
The battle erupted in an instant. Every exchange of blows split the earth, carving deep fractures in the battlefield. These titanic beings paid no mind to terrain. Not even the planet itself could constrain them.
The Sentry and Omni-Man Nolan didn't hold anything back. Every punch was thrown with lethal intent. But Nolan quickly began losing ground. Unlike the Sentry, he lacked ranged attacks or energy-based powers, and in a battle of pure versatility, he was quickly overwhelmed.
Meanwhile, though the Punisher was still a human, Strange's magic amplified his capabilities to incredible levels—enough to go toe-to-toe with Mark. Castle held the line while Strange stayed behind him, casting spell after spell to keep Mark pinned and off-balance.
The shockwaves of their battle soon expanded outward. Even the sky above Gotham City was changed. The dark storm clouds that loomed above were shredded apart by the residual energy, revealing the stars beyond.
Seeing his two strongest lieutenants—Omni-Man and Mark—being held off by the suddenly arrived Sentry and his allies, Clayface's expression grew darker by the second.
That's when Alex turned to him with a calm, almost amused smile.
"Ever since I first came into contact with magic," Alex began, "I noticed a peculiar truth. In many worlds where magical energy exists, spells and rituals awaken the magic buried in nature. It's a method—a system—that channels ambient energy to manifest effects."
"But… there's another kind of magic. One that transcends incantations or ritual circles. It's more like a law of reality—something written into the very rules of the cosmos. Certain supreme beings, by the mere fact of their existence, warp the laws of nature around them."
Alex's gaze sharpened.
"And the key to this power… is a name."
His eyes locked onto Clayface. "From the moment you first invoked my name… all of your actions came under my watch."
"That's… impossible," Clayface muttered, a flash of fear flickering in his eyes. He quickly tried to hide it—but both Alex and Batman caught it instantly.
"Strange, isn't it?" Alex continued, voice calm. "It seems the entity who gave you the Mobius Chair left out a few things about me. Not surprising, though. To him, you were always just a disposable piece on the board. A pawn."
Alex's tone chilled as he uttered one word.
"Cannon fodder."
That did it. Clayface snapped. His body began to twitch, his breath grew rapid and erratic, and his fingers dug into the Mobius Chair's armrest, leaving grimy imprints behind.
"You don't want to believe it?" Alex asked, tilting his head. "The truth is, I never saw you as the true threat. I've always been focused on the one hiding behind you. Why do you think I arrived late? Why do you think I let you summon Godzilla and those other titans from the Monster Universe?"
"It's because I knew it was all staged. Every move I made was being watched. And when you tried to imitate me—used my name, my image—it gave me a clear window into your actions. You weren't a threat. You were bait. A distraction, planted by him."
Alex stepped forward slowly, his voice steady as he addressed Clayface, who still sat trembling in the Mobius Chair.
"I'm offering you a way out. This battle was never meant for you. You still have your own life—you don't need to be the puppet of the Watcher. I don't know which version of him dragged you into this mess… but I can promise you this—whatever he promised you, I can give you something he never could."
"."
Clayface fell into a deep silence.
He seemed to be seriously considering Alex's words, caught in a fierce internal conflict. Seeing this, Alex didn't let up. He stepped forward slightly, voice calm but firm.
"You really think you still have a chance to turn this around? The residual energy from this battle will soon be detected by the Justice Society. I'll admit—the two Viltrumite variants you brought here are strong. But against the heroes of this Earth? They don't stand a chance."
"You've already lost, Clayface. End this. I've got two bigger problems to deal with—and one threat that could unravel countless realities."
". . . Lost?"
Finally, Clayface spoke. A twisted grin crept across his grotesque face.
"So you think I'm just some loser, too? Someone born to fail at everything?"
In that moment, his mind flashed back through countless memories—growing up under constant ridicule and abuse, always dismissed and overlooked. No one had ever taken him seriously. To the world, he was a nobody—even after gaining powers, he remained irrelevant.
Not even Gotham's villains respected him. Ordinary people called him a freak, and powered individuals saw him as trash. Maybe, like his name, Clayface really was nothing more than a worthless pile of sludge.
"No—"
Clayface snarled, his body bubbling and warping, rage boiling over. He screamed: "This isn't me! This isn't who I am!!"
"Is it really so hard for you to accept failure? To admit you're not perfect?" Alex frowned slightly, his voice edged with disappointment.
At those words, Clayface's head shot up. His eyes bloodshot, his twisted gaze locked onto Alex.
"This is all your fault! All of it! You people wrote my life for me! I was supposed to have more—I deserved more! You ruined everything! You turned me into this monster!"
"You're wrong," Alex said, his voice raspy but resolute. "I've seen worlds where even powerless humans learned to overcome corruption. You're just making excuses. You had a chance to fight for a better life, to build something with your own hands. But instead, you chose to blame it all on something else—something imaginary."
He leaned in, eyes sharp. "Do you really think going to another world would change who you are?"
Before Alex could finish, Clayface exploded.
"Shut up! Enough of your lies! This world is fake! We're fake! You created us, pulled our strings, wrote our thoughts—we're just your soulless puppets! The Watcher showed me the real world—the one where I rule the universe! That's the life I deserve!!"
Alex narrowed his eyes. "You say this world is fake—but you think the world where you rule the cosmos is real?"
He sighed, then motioned toward Batman.
"You know who he is—Gotham's infamous urban legend. But do you have any idea what he's sacrificed to get here? How many sleepless nights he's spent learning everything he could, mastering skills, honing his body and mind—not because of powers, but through sheer will."
"His success didn't fall into his lap. He earned it. Step by step. Compared to that—what have you ever done with your time?"
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!!"
Clayface let out a furious roar as the Mobius Chair erupted with blinding brilliance. Terrifying energy surged outward in all directions, obliterating everything in its path indiscriminately.
Completely consumed by rage and despair, Clayface had become nothing more than a puppet of the Mobius Chair. His eyes glowed an ominous red, and his body radiated an eerie aura—the unmistakable energy of the Anti-Matter Universe.
As the power of the Anti-Life Equation intensified around him, Batman gave Alex a sideways glance, his voice dry.
"You just couldn't help yourself, could you?"
"I really did mean it," Alex sighed softly.
After all this time, he had come to a painful realization—he wasn't good at talking people down. Every time he tried to reason or offer redemption, it seemed to push the other person further off the edge.
Another one silenced by good intentions.
At that moment, Clayface, now fused to the Mobius Chair, moved again.
"AAARRRGHHH!!! Mobius Chair! Tell me—tell me the truth of this universe! Tell me how I can destroy that man in front of me!!"
"Hey—!" Batman immediately tried to rush forward.
As someone who had once sat in the Mobius Chair himself, no one understood its capabilities—and its dangers—better than Batman. And he also knew that some knowledge stored within it was never meant to be accessed, especially anything tied to the most supreme cosmic beings.
But before he could act, Alex held him back. Batman turned, confused, and met Alex's calm, emotionless expression.
Alex shook his head and sighed.
"Let him."
"But—"
Batman was about to object when suddenly, a strange blue glow erupted from the Mobius Chair, swallowing the surrounding white light whole.
Under this unknown energy, Clayface's frenzied expression shifted instantly into one of utter confusion.
In the vast whiteness of the Mobius Chair's mindscape, he saw it.
A single blue figure.
It was impossible to describe properly—a massive, glowing blue giant. No clothing, no hair, no armor. Just existence in its rawest, purest form.
Perhaps Clayface's gaze disturbed it, because the figure slowly turned toward him.
And in the next instant—
SPLAT!
Clayface exploded like a water balloon. His entire body turned into a mist of brown sludge, bursting apart like fireworks into the air.
His very existence was erased in an instant.
All that remained was a faint smear of brown muck clinging to the Mobius Chair.
...
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