"Thanks," David said, taking the can of soda from the waitress. She smiled softly in return, her expression brightening for a moment before her gaze shifted toward Superman. He offered her a polite smile back, and with that small exchange, she turned and walked away, leaving the two men alone at their table.
"Do you believe in the Batman?" David asked suddenly, cracking the silence as he raised the soda to his lips.
Superman glanced at him, momentarily distracted by how casually David kept drinking. The man had already gone through several cans without pause, and the sight left Superman speechless for a moment.
"What do you mean?" Superman asked, a faint look of confusion crossing his face. Batman was a name that carried weight—yet many still doubted his existence. He was a figure of the shadows, a ghost that struck from the dark. When you saw him, it usually meant one thing—you were about to receive the beating of a lifetime.
Batman had first appeared about four years ago, and in that time, he had wasted no effort in cleansing the streets of Gotham. Crime lords, corrupt officials, petty thieves—it didn't matter who they were; if they preyed on Gotham, they learned to fear the night.
Just as the people of Metropolis viewed Superman as a symbol of hope, the citizens of Gotham saw the Dark Knight in much the same way. To them, Batman was hope—not in the light, but in the darkness that had once swallowed their city whole. It was his presence alone that had begun to drive the filth from Gotham's streets.
"You haven't heard the news? He has a kid he is calling Robin, as his sidekick… that's not right." David said softly, his tone calm but edged with disapproval as he leaned back in his chair.
"Oh, you didn't know, Batman and I are close," Superman said, making David raise an eyebrow in quiet surprise.
"By the way, how many heroes are popping up? There is that magic caster Zatanna, The Flash… and I'm sure there is another alien like yourself," David said, his tone thoughtful as he tried to recall all of the heroes he had heard of, counting them off in his head.
"The Martian Manhunter? Yes, he's a Martian. Then there are the three Green Lanterns, Hawk Girl, Mister Terrific, Batman, and, I guess, Robin. Green Arrow, Black Canary, Hawkman, Doctor Fate, and countless others," Superman said, listing them off while raising an eyebrow as he noticed David casually placing another order for cheese sticks. "We're all spread out across the world—rarely do we ever get the chance to meet."
"I've been meaning to ask, how do your powers work?" Superman said after a moment, watching as David picked up a slice of pizza and took a slow bite.
"I'm not telling you," David replied simply. "You know, you really shouldn't go around telling people about your powers and abilities. You never know who's listening or what kind of people might be reading into your information. The less the enemy has to work with, the better." David spoke lightly, his tone calm but certain, as if it were simple common sense.
"Are you not too worried?" Superman asked, his tone curious.
David rolled his eyes. "Were you not weakened thanks to Luthor knowing your weakness was a rock? In fact, why don't you train with that rock, try to build some kind of immunity to it?"
Superman paused, genuinely caught off guard. The thought had never even crossed his mind before.
"It's like how someone might slowly eat things they're allergic to, just to help their body build a bit of tolerance over time," David continued casually. "People also know your weakness is the yellow sun… wow, it's like you actually want Luthor to kill you."
Superman let out a nervous chuckle, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head, unsure how to respond to the blunt honesty.
"You're too trusting for your own good," David said with a quiet sigh. He lifted his hand slightly, and Blue flared to life around him. The empty soda cans on the table were pulled together at once, the power of space compressing them until they were crushed into a single small sphere barely the size of his pinky. It could have been reduced further, but there was no need.
"Is that why you had Mister Terrific scan you until he was incapable of doing so?" Superman asked, recalling the event clearly. He remembered how David had allowed Mister Terrific to scan him over and over again—right up until his systems could no longer get a reading. It had been done for one reason: to let David adjust Infinity so that no scan could detect his spatial distortions or reach him to gather any data at all.
After all, David didn't want Amazo—or anyone else—ever gaining access to his abilities.
"Yup, I don't want Luthor to lock me away like he did you…" David said lightly, but then paused as the vibration of his phone caught his attention. Pulling it from his pocket, he glanced at the screen and saw the name flashing across it—the president.
He answered, only to be greeted by her voice, sharp and laced with irritation. Her tone made it clear she wasn't pleased and wanted him to come in immediately so they could talk face to face.
"Well, I have to go meet with the president," David said softly, sliding his phone back into his pocket. His eyes drifted toward the kitchen, scanning for the order he'd been waiting on. Sadly, his cheese sticks were nowhere to be found.
Letting out a quiet sigh, he reached into his wallet, placed two hundred dollars on the table to cover the bill, and vanished in an instant, teleporting away before Superman could say a word.
"What's wrong?" David asked as he appeared within the office, the air around him shifting with a faint ripple. The president sat behind her desk, her expression tight with frustration, the anger practically radiating off her.
"I tried to get Luthor the death penalty," she said sharply, her voice rising before she caught herself. "But Luthor isn't someone even I can do much about… I hate to say it, but your way looks like the best way forward."
David's eyes narrowed slightly as she continued, her tone dripping with bitter anger. "Luthor's only going to jail for three months. Three. He even had some of his men commit crimes just to get sent in ahead of him, to make sure his stay would be comfortable. He funded the damn jail… he literally paid for the place he's supposed to serve time in."
Her voice shook with disbelief and fury. Luthor wasn't just one of the richest men alive—he was among the smartest, always prepared for every outcome. Of course, he had planned for this. Of course, he had contingencies in place for the day he might be arrested. And now, even after nearly destroying the planet, he wasn't suffering the slightest consequence.
"Starting next month, you would begin… but do you really want to sacrifice your life for this?" she asked softly, her tone losing its earlier sharpness.
David only shrugged, his expression unreadable. "What do I have to live for?"
She opened her mouth but found no words. In truth, she couldn't honestly say anything to counter him. What David was about to do was, at its core, a tragedy—an act of devotion wrapped in self-destruction. But to ensure that his daughter's memory lived on, he was more than willing to give everything.
***
The United States was soon struck by earth-shaking news. That new white-haired, blue-eyed superhero everyone had been talking about? He was officially being granted the authority to kill criminals. However, the decision came with heavy restrictions. David would have to follow a strict set of rules—he could only take the lives of those whose deaths would bring more good to the world than their continued existence ever could.
But the real shock came with what followed. The government announced the deployment of camera spheres that would track David constantly—twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week—broadcasting his every move live to the world. Every action, every decision, would be recorded and made public.
Of course, there was more to it than transparency. The cameras weren't just for show—they were there to observe him, to study him, to search for any weakness that could be used if things ever went wrong. The government was simply doing the best it could with the hand it had been dealt.
The best way to handle someone as seemingly unstoppable as David was simple—make sure the entire world could see everything he did. With millions of eyes watching his every move, sooner or later, he was bound to reveal something—a flaw, a limitation, a weakness they could exploit. Once that happened, they could begin quietly building the means to bring him down if the need ever arose.
And there was another layer to it. With all the attention surrounding him, they could easily begin shaping public perception. They could twist the narrative, turn the people against David, and paint themselves as the unwilling victims in the story. They would claim they were forced into this situation, that they had no choice but to act as they did. Then, when the time came, they could ask for the people's help to stop him—using the same public that once idolized him to tear him down.
To say the least, the world was divided. Some people were terrified by the decision—after all, giving one man the authority to kill was no small thing. To them, heroes were meant to protect, not to judge or execute. Others, however, openly supported the move, arguing that certain villains—like the Joker, for instance—had long escaped true justice and deserved nothing less than death.
For the time being, most people remained calm. After all, every moment of David's life would now be visible to the world. There would be no secrets, no hidden actions—every step, every breath, would be broadcast for all to see. The live broadcast of David began the very next day after the announcement, giving the public a full thirty days to observe him nonstop.
"I'm not too sure about this…" Superman said with a frown, seated across from David.
David didn't seem bothered. He casually sipped from his soda, appearing perfectly relaxed as several floating orbs hovered nearby. They recorded him from every angle, keeping a precise distance so they never got in his way. They were extremely small, about the size of a bean, hundreds of them were spread out, hidden from view, while recording everything and communicating with each other to ensure they were showing the people the best angles.
"Really? Do you think the next time Luthor puts the Earth in danger, we can stop him?" David asked lazily, his tone relaxe, making Superman's eyes narrow in response.