"You're late, Daniel Wus and Yifeis."
Justice League Tower, circular meeting room.
This place could no longer be called a meeting room; it was a complete mess.
The air was filled with the smell of burnt metal and blood.
Barry Allen stood amidst the chaos, looking at the huge human-shaped hole in the wall, then at Bruce, lying motionless in the debris.
He was completely stunned.
What on earth was going on?
How did a meeting manage to cripple one of Earth's strongest alliances?
"What... do we do now?"
Barry looked to Hal Jordan and Victor Stone for help.
Hal irritably tugged at his collar and cursed.
"How the hell should I know what to do?"
"Whose fault is it? Is Tel-Rol too barbaric? Or did Bruce bring this upon himself?"
Hal kicked away a twisted metal plate at his feet.
"I just don't understand, how could he think he could outsmart everyone? Who does he think he is?"
Victor's electronic eyes flickered, rapidly analyzing data.
"Bruce has a comminuted fracture of the 4th and 5th vertebrae in his spine, with basic disconnection of the nervous system."
"His vital signs are extremely unstable, and he has severe internal bleeding."
"If he doesn't receive emergency treatment soon, he will die."
Victor spoke the results with a heavy voice.
Barry shivered and, with a flash, was by Bruce's side.
"Bruce! Bruce, hang in there!"
"I... I'll take you to the hospital!"
Just as he was about to pick up Bruce, a calm voice came from the meeting room's loudspeaker.
"Don't move him, Mr. Allen."
It was Alfred.
"Any unprofessional movement will cause him secondary injury."
No sooner had he spoken than the floor beneath Bruce slowly rose, lifting Bruce up.
A layer of light blue energy shield rose from the edge of the platform, completely enveloping Bruce.
"Life support system activated, medical pod is docking."
Alfred's voice betrayed no emotion.
"Gentlemen, please step aside."
The ceiling of the meeting room silently slid open, and a huge mechanical arm extended down, precisely grasping the white medical platform.
The mechanical arm slowly retracted, carrying the severely injured Bruce, disappearing behind the ceiling.
The entire process was quiet and efficient.
It was clear that Alfred had rehearsed this emergency plan countless times.
He had always been preparing for various accidents that might befall Bruce.
Only, he probably never imagined that this accident would come from within.
In the vast meeting room, only Barry, Hal, and Victor remained.
Three bewildered faces.
"So... it's over?" Barry asked blankly.
"Over? I think it's just beginning."
Hal slumped onto a relatively intact table, pulled a crumpled cigarette from his pocket, but couldn't find a lighter.
"Damn it." He stuffed the cigarette back.
"Clark is gone, Diana is gone, Arthur is gone."
"Bruce... was carried away."
"The Justice League, I guess it's disbanded today?"
Hal gave a self-deprecating laugh.
Barry pulled off his cowl and threw it on the ground.
"But Bruce's paranoia has indeed been getting worse recently."
"Especially since Tel-Rol killed Joker."
Victor remained silent.
The thrusters on his back spewed blue flames, allowing him to float slowly in mid-air.
His electronic eyes scanned the huge hole in the wall, outside of which tense disaster relief efforts were underway.
"System logic analysis..."
"Probability of League disbandment: 78.3%."
"Probability of internal war: 42.6%."
"Due to leadership vacuum and internal division, the probability of civilization survival when Earth faces the next extinction-level attack is downgraded to 13.7%."
Listening to the numbers Victor reported, Barry and Hal fell silent.
"Then what do we do?" Barry asked for the third time.
This time, no one could answer him.
At the same time.
Earth, Metropolis, LexCorp's secret base three hundred meters underground.
Lex Luthor held a glass of red wine, standing in front of a huge one-way glass, a satisfied smile on his face.
Opposite the glass was a brightly lit laboratory.
Zod and Fiona's bodies were secured on two specially made metal beds, covered with tubes of various colors.
Dozens of scientists in white lab coats were busily working.
An assistant quickly walked to Luthor's side, respectfully handing him a tablet computer.
"Boss, there was a violent energy fluctuation at the Justice League Tower, initially judged to be an internal conflict."
"This is a segment of encrypted communication just intercepted; only a small part has been deciphered."
An audio clip played on the tablet.
"...crossed the line..."
"...Fortress Protocol..."
"...you can't kill him..."
"...do you want to die?"
The audio was chaotic, but the information within was enough to make Luthor's smile grow wider and wider.
"Heh heh... heh heh heh heh..."
"Hahahahahahaha!"
Luthor couldn't help but burst into laughter, the red wine in his hand spilling due to his excitement.
"Gods... bleed too."
"Gods... also fight amongst themselves."
"What a wonderful script."
He turned around, looking at the two Kryptonian bodies behind the glass, his eyes feverish.
"They think they are saviors?"
"No, they are just stronger beasts."
"And humanity needs a... hunter... who can truly control beasts."
He pointed at the rapidly scrolling genetic data on the screen.
"How is the data model building coming along?"
The assistant quickly replied: "Very smoothly, boss. The Kryptonian genetic sequence has shown astonishing adaptability and evolutionary potential."
Luthor walked to an operating console, on the screen was a complex diagram of a humanoid creature, with a codename next to it.
"Doomsday."
"Initiate final fusion program."
"I want them to know that human intelligence is the most powerful weapon."
"I want that so-called Superman to personally face the... despair... he himself created."
The assistant's body trembled, and he asked in a low voice: "Boss, this is too risky, once it's out of control..."
"Risk?"
Luthor turned his head, looking at him contemptuously.
"The biggest risk is putting our destiny in the hands of a group of aliens."
"Execute it."
"Yes."
The assistant dared not say more and turned to leave quickly.
In the laboratory, a dark green liquid was frantically injected into dozens of tubes connected to Zod's body.
Zod's body, which had already lost all signs of life, suddenly began to convulse violently!
New York, Queens.
Tel-Rol, Kara, and Deadpool were walking down a street full of ruins.
"Boss, boss, trust me, it's just around that corner ahead!"
Deadpool pointed into the distance.
"That shop's Spanish barbecue, I'm telling you, it's amazing! The owner is an old man in his sixties, and his barbecue skills are passed down through generations!"
"I just don't know if his shop is still there..."
Kara followed beside them, looking at the destroyed scenery around, then at Tel-Rol's indifferent expression, and couldn't help but speak.
"Tel, are we... really just leaving like this?"
"Bruce, he..."
"He won't die." Tel-Rol interrupted her, unconcerned.
"I knew what I was doing; at most, he'll be bedridden for a year or so."
"If you mention him again, I'll eat all the barbecue myself, not a single bite for you."
Kara puffed out her cheeks in anger but couldn't do anything about him.
"We're almost there!" Deadpool shouted excitedly.
The three bypassed an overturned bus, and the view suddenly opened up before them.
At the corner of the street, a small shop miraculously stood intact, its signboard hanging crookedly, reading "Daddy's Barbecue."
A white-bearded old man wearing a chef's hat was holding a broom, clearing debris from the doorway.
"Daddy! I'm back!" Deadpool cheered and rushed over.
The old man's cloudy eyes lit up when he saw Deadpool, then he picked up his broom again.
"You scoundrel! You still haven't settled the last bill!"
Just then.
Tel-Rol suddenly stopped.
He slowly raised his right hand, palm open.
The purple power stone lay quietly in his palm.
"How... do I deal with this thing?"