The man with the large 'S' emblazoned on his chest, simply floating there, exuded a calming presence.
He carefully took Kara from Tel-Rol's arms, his movements gentle.
Tel-Rol's nerves, stretched taut for three days and three nights, finally snapped at that moment.
He could no longer hold on; his vision went black, and his body plummeted straight towards the azure planet below.
Clark Kent held Kara with one hand, while the other shot out like lightning, grabbing Tel-Rol's ankle.
"Sleep for a while."
His voice was soft, tinged with an indescribable weariness.
"You've already done so well."
The North Pole.
This was the end of the world, a kingdom made of ice and crystal.
The Fortress of Solitude.
Giant crystal spires pierced the sky, reflecting a hazy brilliance against the backdrop of the aurora borealis.
Inside the fortress, a medical pod glowed.
Kara lay quietly in the pale blue restorative liquid, connected to countless precise life-support tubes.
The wound on her chest had stopped bleeding, but even submerged in the restorative liquid, the ghastly gash was still shocking to behold.
Tel-Rol stood outside the medical pod.
He had changed into a clean black combat suit, but his whole being seemed to have had its soul drained.
Gone was his previous arrogance and haughtiness; he merely leaned against the cold crystal wall, watching the girl in the medical pod motionless, his blue pupils empty.
A faint sound of footsteps announced Diana's entry into the hall.
She had followed Tel's direction at the time, but Tel's speed was too fast, and she quickly lost him. After blindly searching for a while, she received a signal from Clark.
She wore battle-damaged armor, a few strands of dark hair clinging messily to her cheeks, making her seem less divine and more like a mortal weathered by the world.
Her first glance fell upon that desolate figure.
The man who, just moments before, had ravaged Steppenwolf like a god descended from the heavens, now looked like a lost child, exuding an air of despondency.
Diana's heart was inexplicably pricked.
It hurt a little.
She walked over to Tel-Rol and followed his gaze towards Kara in the medical pod.
"She'll be alright."
Diana's voice was gentle, her beautiful brows slightly furrowed as her starlit eyes looked at the man before her.
Tel-Rol didn't react, as if he hadn't heard her.
"Clark said that the medical facilities here can stop Kara's life from ebbing away, and he will find a way to restore her."
Diana added.
Tel-Rol finally moved; he turned his head, glanced at Diana, then shifted his gaze back to the medical pod.
"Mm."
One word, stifling all further conversation.
Diana was somewhat at a loss for words.
She had never seen Tel-Rol like this before.
This guy was usually either so foul-mouthed he could infuriate people to Death, or so arrogant he acted like he owned the place, looking at everyone as if they were a punching bag.
His current state made her very unaccustomed.
She even felt a little... like patting his head?
The thought had just surfaced when Diana herself was startled.
"Um..."
She adjusted her posture, cleared her throat, and changed the subject, "Thank you for saving me."
If not for his timely intervention, Steppenwolf's final axe blow would have left her severely injured, if not dead.
Tel-Rol didn't even turn his head this time.
"It was nothing."
His voice was deep and hoarse, carrying a heartbreaking indifference.
"Don't flatter yourself."
Well, he still had that awful temper.
Diana, on the contrary, breathed a sigh of relief, a relieved smile gracing her lips.
Being able to retort meant he hadn't completely shut down.
She stopped talking, simply standing beside him, watching with him.
Justice League Headquarters, Watchtower space station.
Around the massive circular conference table, the atmosphere was so heavy it could be wrung out.
Barry Allen fidgeted, his fingers tapping a drumbeat on the table so fast it was a blur.
"So... nobody wants some late-night snacks? I know a pizza place in Gotham that's amazing, the cheese stretches a meter long..."
His words hung in the air for a moment, unanswered.
"Alright, never mind."
Barry sullenly shut his mouth.
Bruce Wayne sat at the head of the table, his hands clasped in front of him, supporting his chin, his entire figure hidden in shadow, not saying a word.
Hal Jordan idly used his green lantern ring to conjure a wrench, disassembling and reassembling it repeatedly.
Clark Kent sat on the other side, his face grim.
His blue and red battle suit was spotless, yet his entire being was shrouded in a layer of gray.
Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw Kara's chest wound, Tel-Rol holding her, floating helplessly beside the sun.
If... if he had arrived a little sooner... No, there were no ifs.
When Lois and their unborn child were used as pawns by the Joker, and even worse, when he was the executioner, his heart wavered on the principle of "no killing."
That confusion and anger led him to temporarily cut off all external contact.
And it was this momentary hesitation that led to irreparable consequences.
"I have an idea."
A deep voice broke the silence.
All eyes turned to Victor Stone.
His gaze fell on the center of the conference table.
A metal cube rested there.
A mother box.
"After what happened to me, my father... he used the power of this mother box to reshape me."
Victor said slowly.
"It can manipulate matter and energy, even warp the basic forms of life. It pulled me back from the brink of Death."
"So, we can use it to save Kara."
At this, everyone's spirits lifted.
Barry left a streak of lightning as he clapped Victor on the shoulder.
"Really? Victor! Why didn't you say so sooner, you rascal!"
"But..."
Victor's voice paused.
"There are consequences."
Bruce looked up from the shadows, his eyes, hidden behind his mask, fixed on Victor.
"What consequences?"
"A summoning signal."
Victor explained, "Every time a mother box operates at high intensity, it sends a signal deep into the universe. The first time my father used it to save me, it was for a short time and low intensity, probably only sending a brief signal."
"When Themyscira's mother box was stolen, the mother box in my possession had a chain reaction, activating automatically. That was the second time, like lighting a torch in the dark universe."
The light from his cybernetic eye intensified.
"If we activate it again now, using its power to repair a Kryptonian body... it won't be a torch anymore."
"It will be a searchlight, an unextinguishable beacon. The signal will be strong enough to tear through space, accurately reaching its master."
Victor looked at everyone.
"Darkseid will receive an incredibly clear set of coordinates."
"Then, his endless army will descend."
"Earth... will become the next Apokolips."
He said no more.
Everyone understood.
To gamble the future of an entire planet on one person's life.
This choice was too heavy.
The hall once again fell into a deathly silence.
Just then, the teleportation device in the hall lit up with a shimmering aquamarine light.
Two figures emerged.
The man in the lead was shirtless, covered in wild tattoos, and held a golden trident in his hand.
It was Aquaman, Arthur Curry.
Beside him was a tall woman with long, fiery red hair like seaweed.
She wore a tight, emerald-green scale armor that perfectly showcased her shapely figure, her curves alluring.
It was Mera, the Queen of Atlantis.
Arthur strode to the conference table and, with a 'thud,' slammed Atlantis's mother box onto the table.
He surveyed the frowning faces of the others, then grinned.
"What's with all the dilly-dallying?"
"It's just saving a life, isn't it? Why are you acting like it's the end of the world?"
He pointed to the two mother boxes on the table.
"Count me in."
"No matter what, Kara is one of us. We can't just stand by and watch our own die, can we?"
"As for that guy called Darkseid..."
Arthur tapped his trident on the floor, saying nonchalantly.
"If he dares to come, I'll let him taste just how salty the Seven Seas truly are!"