Central Control Room.
Amanda Waller's palm was bleeding.
She walked to the main console, her face, twisted with anger moments ago, now only held a chilling calm.
She issued an order into the internal communication channel.
"Level one alert, cancelled."
The operators were stunned, not understanding what this demoness was up to.
Waller's voice was flat as a straight line.
"Activate..."
She paused, as if savoring the two syllables that were about to bring destruction.
"The Graveyard Protocol... Release him!"
The communication channel fell silent, even breathing sounds disappeared.
A young technician stood up, his face ashen.
"Sir... No! That thing... that thing can't be controlled!"
"Execute order!"
Waller's roar made the communicator emit a harsh static.
The technician trembled, slumped back into his chair, and with trembling fingers, pressed the red button.
At the same time.
Belle Reve Penitentiary, deepest underground.
In a massive space the size of a football field, the gigantic cryogenic hibernation pod, marked "Graveyard," emitted a sharp hydraulic exhaust noise.
"Hiss—!!!"
Thick white cold mist spewed from the gaps in the gate, quickly engulfing the ground.
On the walls surrounding the hibernation pod, blood-red warning lights began to rotate.
"Warning: Absolute prohibition of release!"
"Warning: Internal biological threat level - Ω!"
But now, no one would heed these warnings.
In the plaza.
Tel-Ror was tilting his head, a little bored, watching the deranged woman in front of him.
Harley Quinn.
Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet began to shake.
"Boom..."
"Boom... Boom..."
It was as if a giant heart had awakened underground, thudding dully.
Captain Boomerang, pinned to the western wall, had all the color drained from his face.
He began to struggle frantically, the sound of metal piercing flesh clearly audible.
"No! No! No!"
"Waller, that crazy old hag! She's going to release that thing!"
"F*ck!!"
His heartbroken curses echoed across the plaza.
"What thing?"
Deadshot leaned against the wall, barely managing to stand steady; he had never heard of any "Graveyard Protocol."
Harley Quinn's smile also faded.
She wasn't as panicked as Captain Boomerang, but the madness in her blue eyes was gone, replaced by a rare irritation and wariness.
She stopped all her fidgeting, quietly retreated a few steps, her toe kicking a baseball bat on the ground.
She muttered a curse under her breath.
"It's over..."
"That unlucky guy born on a Monday is coming."
"This isn't fun at all anymore."
No sooner had she finished speaking.
In the very center of the plaza, the ground suddenly bulged upwards!
The special concrete surface cracked with countless fissures.
The next second, there was no explosion, only a dull cracking sound.
Countless shattered rocks and dirt were flung into the air by an immense force.
A shadow crawled out of the hole in the ground.
It was a giant, nearly four meters tall.
His entire body was a deathly gray, covered in dirt and dried black blood clots.
His knotted muscles were like weathered rock, devoid of life.
He wore a tattered suit, as if he had just been dug out of a grave.
The urban legend that haunted the nightmares of all Belle Reve inmates had come to life.
Solomon Grundy!
Deadshot forced himself to stand straight.
As a core member of Task Force X, he had access to some top-secret files.
He remembered once seeing a highly classified video file, personally sealed by Waller, during a briefing.
In the footage, this monster named Grundy walked forward through the artillery fire of an entire division, tank shells hitting him like pebbles thrown by children.
With a casual wave, he flattened a main battle tank into a metal disc.
The video ended with Waller's handwritten assessment: Unkillable, unstoppable.
Final solution: Permanent freeze.
Deadshot felt his hands and feet go cold.
Grundy was invulnerable to blades and guns, unafraid of poison fire, and felt no pain.
He would only follow his instincts, smashing everything he saw in front of him.
Central Control Room.
Everyone behind Waller was huddled in the corner, terrified, not daring to make a sound.
On the main screen, the massive figure that had crawled out from underground, simply by standing, made it hard to breathe.
Waller's face, however, showed a pathological excitement.
She didn't care.
She no longer cared about the fate of this prison.
She pointed at the screen and growled at her deputy beside her.
"Record every single data point for me!"
"I want to see the limits of this Kryptonian freak!"
"Even if Belle Reve is wiped off the map, it'll be worth it!"
She had bet all her chips on this table.
In the plaza.
Solomon Grundy turned his massive head in a daze.
He saw Captain Boomerang on the wall.
He saw Harley, who dared not move.
He saw Deadshot, ready for battle.
Finally.
His gaze fell upon the only man still standing in the center of the arena.
Tel-Ror.
Grundy's beastly instincts told him.
This man... was strong.
The energy emanating from this man, in his perception, was blindingly bright.
This man was the biggest threat!
A primal urge for destruction burned in Grundy's chest.
He let out a very dry roar, like two stones rubbing together.
"Grundy..."
"Wants... to... smash!"
His massive body took a step.
"Boom!"
"Boom!"
Every step made the entire plaza tremble violently.
He charged at Tel-Ror like an out-of-control heavy truck.
He raised his fist, which was larger than a sandbag.
A heavy punch, powerful enough to tear through a building, slammed forward!
Before the fist even arrived, the terrifying wind from it already made the air shriek.
Facing this attack.
Tel-Ror finally shed his sleepy demeanor.
The faint white aura around him slowly retracted into his body.
The impatient expression on his face, as if to say "you're all trash," also receded.
His eyes finally showed a hint of interest, like someone looking at a new toy.
Although this toy seemed to have some screws loose.
As the huge punch wind made his black hair dance wildly.
Tel-Ror revealed a somewhat serious, battle-ready smile.
He said softly.
A remark that Waller in the control room, and Harley and Deadshot in the plaza, heard clearly.
"This is getting interesting."
Solomon Grundy's earth-shattering fist was already in front of Tel-Ror.
The distance between the fist and his face was less than ten centimeters.
In the next millisecond, the black-haired man's head would turn into a bloody mess.
Tel-Ror moved, raising his right hand.