Yes...
Who has the right to define what's right or wrong for others?
Do gods?
This thought planted itself like a seed in her heart.
Watching her contemplative expression—both confused and adorable—
Cloud felt that mischievous urge rising again.
He quietly leaned close to her ear and whispered in a devilishly seductive voice:
"Actually, Diana..."
"You and I could engage in some... deeper philosophical exploration about the origins of life and racial propagation."
"For instance..."
"...would you be interested in creating, together with me, a new divine race that possesses both godly bloodline and free human will?"
BOOM—!
Diana felt as if lightning had struck her brain directly!
"You... you... you shameless libertine!"
Her incomparably beautiful face instantly turned red enough to drip blood!
She spun around, wanting to give this man with no filter a resounding slap!
But Cloud had already drifted away like smoke, reappearing a dozen meters distant.
He stood there, flashing her an infuriatingly punchable smile and even threw her a wink.
"I'll be waiting for your philosophical exploration anytime, my Wonder Woman."
Looking at his roguish demeanor—
Diana was furious, embarrassed, and utterly helpless.
She realized she had absolutely no way to deal with this mysterious yet powerful "scoundrel."
And worse—deep down, she felt a dangerously curious interest in that so-called "new divine race."
...
Scene change to Metropolis—now transformed into hell.
No, worse than hell.
Hell at least has order. Here, there was only disordered destruction.
Superman—Clark Kent—and General Zod, two god-like beings from Krypton, were conducting what could only be described as the most primal and terrifying "demolition operation" in human history across this steel jungle.
Their battlefield had no boundaries.
The entire city was their arena.
BOOM—!
General Zod, like a wrathful demon god, punched straight through a skyscraper over a hundred stories tall, snapping it in half!
The massive building, along with countless shattered steel beams and glass, began falling like the sky itself collapsing toward the chaotic streets below!
"NO—!"
Superman let out a cry of anguished fury!
He abandoned his attack, transforming into a blue bolt of lightning, racing toward the collapsing building.
He used his own body to physically hold up the structure weighing millions of tons!
The ground beneath his feet cracked inch by inch as he was driven into the earth!
But he held it.
With his god-like spine, he created a sliver of hope for the thousands of civilians below who hadn't had time to escape.
Yet Zod gave him no chance to breathe.
"You're too weak!"
"You would abandon your race for these insignificant insects! You've betrayed Krypton!"
Zod's eyes blazed with twin beams of red light, brilliant as the sun!
—Heat vision!
He fired this terrifying ray capable of instantly melting steel without any hesitation—
At Superman!
At the building!
At the screaming, fleeing civilians!
He wanted destruction!
He would burn this world Superman loved so much, along with his naive bleeding heart, to absolute ash!
...
All of this, Cloud observed clearly through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of his hotel room.
He still held his glass of '82 Lafite.
But his brow had furrowed deeply.
He swirled the red liquid in his glass, a hint of displeasure crossing his face.
"Sigh..."
He let out a long sigh.
"What's wrong?" Natasha asked with concern.
She could sense Cloud's mood had soured.
"Nothing." Cloud took a sip of wine and said flatly, "Just finding this rather disappointing."
"These two guys—fighting is fine, but they have zero professional ethics."
He pointed at the apocalyptic scene outside, his tone carrying the disdain of a food connoisseur whose favorite restaurant had been trashed by two drunken brawlers.
"See that building? That was Metropolis's most famous revolving restaurant. I was planning to try their tomahawk steak. Now look at it—rubble."
"And that street—the financial district. The coffee shop on the corner supposedly had excellent kopi luwak. Now I doubt they can even find a coffee bean."
"But worst of all," Cloud's gaze turned cold, "is that black-clad fellow. Can't win, so he starts taking it out on ordinary people. That behavior is just LOW. Absolutely tasteless."
"It's an insult to villainy as an art form!"
"And the one in the blue tights." He shook his head with disappointment. "All that godlike power, yet he's reactive at every turn, hesitant, fighting with his hands tied. That's not how you save people."
"True protection isn't passively picking up the pieces after tragedy strikes."
"It's strangling every possibility of tragedy in its cradle!"
"Bleeding-heart mercy only leads to greater casualties."
Natasha and Wanda fell silent.
Looking at the hellscape outside the window, hearing Cloud's words, they felt an undeniable sense of agreement.
Just then!
General Zod's apocalyptic heat vision had crossed the distance, about to engulf the tottering building and the family of three below, huddled together and crying!
Superman was pinned under the building, completely unable to break free!
His eyes filled with ultimate despair and anguish!
"NO—!"
And Cloud finally set down his wine glass.
"Forget it."
"This show is too ugly to watch. Not even the main course is palatable."
"Time for... the referee to step in and end this tedious farce."
He didn't stand. He didn't even change his posture.
He simply blew a gentle breath toward the window—toward General Zod, who was arrogantly unleashing his heat vision.
That breath was colorless, odorless, formless. As if it were just an ordinary yawn.
But!
The instant that breath left his lips!
The entire world seemed to be pulled into an absolutely still, blue dream!
...
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