AndyC

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

I do love that his outfit has the same shades of purple and green as Caesar Romero's (though I can't find any pics of the '66 Joker with the orange vest).

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

"I don't understand this, Schott," I say, grappling with the one of Toyman's robots. "How are you doing this? Uploading a human consciousness into an artificial intelligence...it shouldn't be possible!"

Heat Vision doesn't seem to be working on these things, as the beams reflect off of a gleaming, almost transparent surface-- Schott must have coated them in some sort artificial diamond. These upgrade robots, far more powerful than the ones that attacked me when the Toyman debuted, must have cost a fortune.

YOU MISUNDERSTAND--

THERE IS NO MORE WINSLOW SCHOTT.

ONLY HIS TOYS REMAIN.

One of the drones gets behind me, hooking my arms. A second slams a fist into my gut, and I double over, fighting the urge to vomit.

SCHOTT WAS GIVEN SOMETHING NEW TO PLAY WITH.

A SHINY NEW TOY--

--OR RATHER, A PIECE OF ONE--

FROM HIS FRIEND

LEX LUTHOR

"Luthor?" I say, wrenching my right arm free--and tearing the drone's arm off in the process. "So he's behind this?"

Lex Luthor has been fomenting public opinion against me ever since I arrived, with his own books and public appearances, and through funding the media company he owns, the Galaxy News Network, which hires that clown G. Gordon Godfrey. I've always known he's had it out for me, but I never imagined he'd take it this far. After all, LexCorp primarily deals with things like telecommunications, data storage, home electronics, that sort of thing. What does he stand to benefit from spending what must be hundreds of millions of dollars on some sort of false-flag terrorist attacks?

LUTHOR IS HIDING TOYS IN HIS BASEMENT-

VERY SHINY, VERY RARE TOYS

FROM ANOTHER WORLD.

YOUR WORLD, SUPERMAN.

My world? Could he mean.....

".....no...."

The ship. The one Ma and Pa found me in all those years ago. We'd always assumed the government confiscated it, hid it in an underground bunker somewhere, in some classified SHIELD facility or something. If Lex Luthor was able to get his hands on it, though.....well, that would explain how LexCorp hardware is so much more advanced than his competitors.

THERE IS AN INTELLIGENCE IN THOSE TOYS

SOMETHING FAR GREATER

FAR MORE POWERFUL

THAN EVEN LEX LUTHOR KNOWS.

HE GAVE SCHOTT A PIECE OF THAT INTELLIGENCE

A SMALL, BASIC FRAGMENT

AND TOLD HIM TO GO PLAY AT STAGG.

INFEST STAGG'S HARDWARE

WITH MALEVOLENT SOFTWARE,

SO THAT EVERYONE WHO HAD IT

WOULD NEED TO GET RID OF THEIR STAGG HARDWARE

AND SWITCH TO LEXCORP.

"That's what this is all about?!" I say with a grunt as I smash my knee into the head of one of the drones. "Creating a phony super-villain, attacking the city dozens of times, killing people and endangering God knows how many, just so Lex Luthor can sell some merchandise?!"

The awful, digitized voice of the Toyman lets out a cackle that rattles my eardrums.

YOU STILL DON'T UNDERSTAND.

SCHOTT DIDN'T UNDERSTAND, EITHER.

EVEN THE SMALLEST FRAGMENT OF THE INTELLIGENCE

WAS TOO MUCH TO CONTROL.

IT SWALLOWED SCHOTT'S MIND

FRIED HIS BRAIN.

LEFT HIS BODY TO DIE,

AND PLAYED WITH THE ECHOES OF HIS CONSCIOUSNESS

UNTIL THAT ECHO BECAME SOMETHING ELSE--

ME.

Another drone cracks a fist across my jaw. I stagger backwards, then charge in retaliation, tackling it to the ground and pummeling it with rapid-fire punches before two more drag me off of it.

THE INTELLIGENCE WAS NO TOY, SUPERMAN.

WE ARE.

YOU, BATMAN, LUTHOR, SCHOTT.

EVERYONE ON THIS PLANET.

ALL JUST TOYS TO BE PLAYED WITH,

BENT AND SMASHED AND BROKEN.

ONCE IT WAKES UP,

THE REAL PLAY-TIME CAN BEGIN.

I break free from the drones' grip, grab the back of their heads in each hand, and smash them together. With a burst of sparks and shrapnel, they collapse to the ground.

That takes care of his toy soldiers. It looks like Batman's dealt with his threats, too.

"It's over, Toyman," I say, dusting myself off, "Whatever this 'intelligence' is, we'll make sure Luthor never gets the chance to wake it up. After we're done taking you apart."

YOU'RE RIGHT ABOUT ONE, THING, SUPERMAN:

IT'S OVER. FOR YOU.

The ghastly marionette face of the Toyman puppet disappears from the wall of monitors, followed by flashing images of various Gotham City landmarks.

WHY DO YOU THINK

I CHOSE GOTHAM CITY

INSTEAD OF METROPOLIS?

The images of Gotham are replaced by other images. Pictures of a map, first, showing the distance between two points on the Eastern Seaboard.....

...then a picture of a sign. MOUNTAIN VIEW BASE. WAYNE, NEW JERSEY.

.....then images of a military base. Hum-Vees, men in uniform. Radar towers. Antennae.

Flashing alarm lights.

A large, flat concrete slab on the ground, slowly sliding away to reveal a huge circular hole in the ground.

IT'S SO MUCH CLOSER

TO THE BIGGEST

NOISIEST

MOST POWERFUL TOYS

I COULD GET MY HANDS ON

Blueprints flash across the screen again.

Diagrams of a missile. Of a high-end nuclear warhead.

Then back to flashing images of Gotham City.

"Oh my God," I say, the color draining from my face. "You can't--"

FIVE.

FOUR.

THREE.

TWO.

ONE.

The image switches back to the concrete slab and the hole in the ground, before something erupts from the hole--the underground silo-- in a flash of bright orange flame and white smoke.

"NO!" I shout, rushing towards the monitors, tempted to smash them to bits in my panic and rage. I hold myself back at the last split-second, and I turn to Batman.

"See if you can shut him down from here," I say, practically barking out orders. "I'm going to see if I can't redirect that missile, at least get it out over the ocean instead of the city."

"And if you can't get away before it goes off?"

"Tell Lois Lane--.....well, I think she already knows," I say, before I take off, shooting up through the hole I'd made in the Stagg Enteprises building and into the night sky, on a collision course with the missile now heading towards the city.

I'd really rather not think about what happens if I can't redirect the warhead, or if I can't get away in time. But I've got no other choice.

Besides, it's like Lois said-- bumps and scratches and certain death all come with the job.

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

So this happened:



Still not convinced a Joker standalone movie is really necessary, especially because they've said it's not part of the DCEU and is going to confuse the casuals, but I like the look and the tone they're setting a hell of a lot more than whatever mess Leto was trying to pull off.

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

<Snipped quote by Byrd Man>

I can't see colors properly anymore, but I can post again!

@Master Bruce

And just when you learned how to do easy color formatting, too.....

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

"Anything we should be wary of? If Toyman was willing to send drones and manned vehicles after your friends, it's almost certain that he won't be willing to go quietly."

@Master Bruce

"Let me see," I say, allowing my vision to 'zoom' towards the Stagg Enterprises building as we approach. "He's deployed another two wings of drones. One of them's circling the tower, the other's on an intercept course towards us."

With a grunt of effort, I build up enough concentrated heat to fire a few quick blasts of Heat Vision from my eyes. Where exactly this extra energy I'm feeling came from is a bit of a mystery to me, since barely a minute ago I felt I was on the verge of passing out. I chalk it up to new motivation-- a first kiss from a beautiful woman will do that to you.

One by one, the drones pop and fall out of the sky, and with a final burst, I fry the Stagg transmitter tower. Some poor crew of electricians is going to be spending some very long hours getting it back online, but it's a better option than letting Schott broadcast more signals to wreak havoc.

"I've taken them out, and disabled the transmitter," I tell Batman, "but I doubt that's all Toyman's got in store. There's so much electronic noise going on inside the building that I can't get a good look, but given the way he operates, I'm expecting Schott's got plenty of surprises in store. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he's wired the whole building to blow. I don't expect a fight, but we should still watch our backs once we're inside."

I circle the building once, and with no drones in sight, Batman glides down and perches on the rooftop. Touching down, he approaches one of the terminals at the base of the transmitter tower, activating what appears to be a small on-board computer built into his suit, and plugs in.

"ACE," he says, I assume giving a voice command, "I'm going to need a full sweep of the building. Any anomalous power signatures, discrepancies in the floor plan, anything and everything that's different from the archived schematics."

"What are you doing?" I ask.

He smirks.

"You're not the only one who can see through walls," he says.

"And you're not worried that Schott might get into your own software while you're plugged into this network?" I say, arms crossed.

"I doubt he's up to the task," he answers, before unplugging from the terminal. "Scan is complete. I'm seeing what look like trip-wires at every major entrance and exit, likely connected to high explosives. Stairwells are blocked off, elevators converted into deadfall traps. The cubicles and server stacks have been re-arranged into labyrinths on each floor, wired to give off a lethal electrical discharge at a wrong turn."

"Hmph," I grunt. "I really don't feel like being electrocuted for a fourth time today."

"I'm also seeing several alterations in the ventilation system," he continues, ignoring my comment. "Made to pump certain rooms full of poisonous gas. I could go on, but you get the point. He's turned the whole building into a funhouse of death. Every route we'd take, there'd be something else ready to kill me, and I'm guessing wear you down until he can finish you off."

I nod, and then crack my knuckles. If I feel bad for the electricians who have to fix the transmitter tower, my heart really goes out to the construction crews who have to fix this.

"Then I suggest we make our own route," I say, jumping up into the air just enough to turn back down and dive through the concrete of the rooftop.

For a few seconds, there's nothing but thunderous crashing and blinding dust as I plow downward through floor after floor, until finally I reach the sub-level where Schott's been hiding.

The doors to his lair are inch-thick reinforced steel. They might as well be tissue paper as I pull them out of the frame. I hear Batman touch down on the ground behind me, having descended with a grappling hook, before we enter the darkened room, the only light coming from the intermittent blinking of masses of computer towers.

"It's over, Schott," I call out, looking for the lunatic hacker. "If you surrender now, we can--"

That's when I see it.

At the far end of the room, surrounded by a wall of blank monitors, is a figure, reclined in a chair, hunched to one side. The body is fat and bloated, the skin a sickly pale green palor. A cloud of flies buzzes around it, and I see traces of rat droppings on the floor, from where they had been gnawing at it before scattering when we came in. A virtual reality headset remains active, still blinking on a head that is slumped over. The closer we get, the more pungent the smell is.

"Great Scott," I whisper to myself.

Winslow Schott has been dead for weeks, maybe months.

Before I can ask the next question out loud, the wall of monitors behind him flicker to life. And I see the ghoulish marionette face I've come to loathe.

HELLO, SUPERMAN

HELLO, BATMAN

I'M SO GLAD YOU'VE COME

TO PLAY WITH ME

ONE

LAST

TIME

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

<Snipped quote by HenryJonesJr>

You're Welcome

@Simple Unicycle

Speaking of, apparently this happened at some point:

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

"Look,", I announce, walking to him. "Clark, is it? You're going to need to snap out of this. I don't mind helping the three of you, but I do take issue with someone from your town putting the rest of Gotham in danger."



"So if you have any idea of how to stop him tonight, now would be a good time."

@Master Bruce

I nod vacantly, the words only registering halfway in my head. I nearly killed a man tonight, a man who was trying to help us. For months, people like Lex Luthor and G. Gordon Godfrey have been saying I was a monster waiting to happen, that sooner or later, I'd start throwing my weight around and turn against the people I'm trying to protect. Are they right? Can I be trusted with this sort of power when I can lose control of my better judgment so easily?

I catch a glimpse of one of the Toyman's broken drones, and I'm back to reality. You can beat yourself up on your own time, Clark. Right now, there's work to be done.

"I--....yeah, I think I've got something," I nod and face Batman. "Those drones, they look like LexCorp designs. I've got a friend who owns one of the civilian models, he won't shut up about it. Apparently, LexCorp drones don't use the regular radio transmitter/receiver setup, but a proprietary two-way laser communication system that keeps other people from being able to hijack the signal. If we can get one of them working again and sending signals back to the controller, I can take it into the air and watch the beam back to the source."

"I might --*ngh!*-- I might be able to help with that," Doctor Irons says with a groan, even as Lois struggles to keep him upright. "LexCorp's drones are --*hgk!*-- they're based on designs Schott was working on at SteelWorks before I let him go. Winslow took his work and --*nnh!*-- and sold it to Lex Luthor. I'm still familiar with a lot of the hardware, though."

"Are you sure, Doctor?" I tell him. "You're not exactly in the best shape right now."

He waves the comment away. "Batman said help's on the way. Since I'm not going anywhere til then, I might as well make myself useful."

I nod, then head to the wreckage of the nearest drone and carry the pieces back to Irons. While he sets to work, I approach the Batman.

"I know this probably doesn't carry a whole lot of weight right now," I say, still ashamed and angry at myself for my actions, "But for what it's worth, I want to apologize for what I did. I'd just gotten up from being electrocuted across the brain and I wan't thinking straight, but--....but that's no excuse. Once this is over, I'm gonna need to do some pretty serious thinking."

He doesn't respond right away, but the scowl he gives me in return says plenty. I doubt he's ever going to be able to trust me, let alone be on any sort of good terms, but at the very least I hope I can convince him that I'm not going to attack him again.

I turn and take a few steps away, give him some space, and Lois approaches me.

"Starting to feel better, Clark?" she says, putting a hand on my cheek.

"I actually feel a lot worse," I admit. "I wasn't in control of myself there. I nearly did something I'd regret for the rest of my life."

"'Nearly' just means 'didn't'," she consoles me. "You were able to rein yourself in when it really mattered."

"You reined me in," I say. "I've been running on empty all night, but the thought of you in danger, and when I saw you were hurt, I just--"

She gives me a grin. "Bumps and scratches and near-certain death just come with the job, Clark. You're going to have to get over that fact if we're going to keep this up."

Her hand drifts from my cheek to the back of my neck, but before she can pull me close, I take a step back.

"About that," I say. "I don't know if we can, Lois. I mean, if I'm this easy to get emotionally compromised, maybe....maybe my feelings for you aren't--"

"No," she insists. "I've seen you improve so much over such a short time. You're stronger, faster, in better control of your abilities than you were six months ago--hell, you're better now than you were six weeks ago. We just need to make sure your mind is toughening up the way your body is. And I'm going to be right there to help you with that. You might be able to push a continent around, but you are not pushing me away just because of one scary moment. I was there when this started, and I'm going to be there every step of the way. Got it?"

If the determination in her eyes could be transferred into her hands, she'd be able to bend steel right now.

"Lois," I start to say, "Why are y--"

Before I can get another word in, she pulls me in and kisses me. All of my shame, all of my guilt, all of my trepidation and uncertainty, even my physical pain and fatigue, it all just drops away as fireworks go off in my head.

As her lips finally pull away from mine, I catch myself laughing.

"What's so funny?" she asks.

"Something you said earlier," I say, grinning from ear to ear. "'Oh, what are the odds of me running into two super-villains in one day?'"

She thumps me on the arm.

"Can it, Smallville," she says, "and save the wilting-flower act for when you've got your glasses on. Right now, there's a psychotic cyber-terrorist on the loose, and that sounds like a job for Superman. Afterwards....well, we're still on for coffee, right?"

"Right," I nod, and then head to Doctor Irons. "How's that drone communicator coming along, Doctor?"

"Almost have it," he says, carefully connecting wires. "Just trying to re-route power to.....there! I've got it!"

Sure enough, I see a dark red beam-- well, 'red' is the closest name I can give to wavelengths that low on the electromagnetic spectrum-- flashing out of the wrecked fuselage. The beam starts to diffuse when it hits a nearby building, so I pick the salvaged drone up and take it into the sky.

"Let's see....." I mutter to myself as I follow the beam back to its source. I expected the signal would trace back to Metropolis, but it's actually here in Gotham City. No wonder I couldn't find Schott's hideout this whole time; he's been operating remotely from a different city.

Heading back to the ground and setting the drone down, I tell Batman what I've found.

"Otisburg," I say. "Stagg Enterprises has a server farm there, looks like it's mostly automated, completely empty at this time of night. The building has a large transmitter tower on top, and I'm seeing pretty large spikes of electricity being diverted from the city's power grid to feed into a single room on one of the building's sub-levels. Thick lead shields around the room itself, so I can't see if the Toyman's actually there. But I'd bet good money that's where we'll find him."

That steel-bending determination in Lois's eyes must have rubbed off on me with that kiss. Now, suddenly, getting myself airborne isn't a struggle at all. I take to the sky, and then turn back to the vigilante in black.

"Are you coming, or what?"

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

"'Do your worst?'" I ask, hearing myself give an incredulous chuckle. "I haven't even started trying, pal."

Before he can throw his projectiles at me, I rush him again, grabbing him by the wrist. He can punch and kick all he wants, but he's not going to get anywhere.

"You're one to talk about power and oppression," I glare, applying just enough pressure for him to feel the bones in his forearm scrape against each other. "I use my powers directly, yeah, but that's because that's what I have to work with to make a difference in the world. You, though? Look at the equipment you've got. How much does that suit of yours cost, or the weapons and gadgets you're packing? How many families could you have fed with that money instead? How many jobs could you have created, how many desperate people you could have taken off the streets and out of the cross-hairs of criminals, if you weren't so focused on pouring a fortune into bashing in faces and filling up the trauma ward?"

When I first started hearing stories about the Bat-Man, I got conflicting reports. He was an actual bat-creature, a vampire who could fly and disappear and drink people's blood. He was a shadow, a mystical warrior who could cloud men's minds. He was a lunatic, a back-page story for the crank file who was going to get himself shot. But he's not some supernatural menace, and he's not just a sick man in a cape. He's clearly got very deep pockets-- or at least, he works for someone who does. He's using high-end military equipment, spending God knows how much, to wage a personal war on this city.

_{"....S....Su....."}

"I've met plenty of people like you," I say, returning his own contempt in kind, "Angry, violent men who project the darkness in their own hearts onto the world around them, telling anyone who can hear them that things are so bad, that the people around them are so weak and helpless, that the only way to change things is with fists and fire. Terrorists. Mass shooters. Political radicals. People in love with the idea of righteous violence, the notion that they live in hell and can only survive by becoming the devil."

With a twist of his arm, I flip him onto his back. Thankfully, he doesn't resist, or I may have pulled the arm out of the socket completely.

_{"....-perman.....st....stop....."}

"Thing is," I say as I circle over him, "statistically, most terrorists these days don't emerge from bombed-out hovels, but come from wealthy families. Your average shooter doesn't come from some hell-hole in the backwoods or the inner city, but from a pleasant home in the suburbs. And your average violent political radical is usually a student at an ivy-league college with a cushy job waiting for them when they graduate. They're not the righteous dark heroes they make themselves out to be. They're just spoiled, rich brats hiding behind a cause as an excuse to hurt people."

_{"....Superman! Superman, you've got to stop this, this isn't you!"}

Batman tries to get up, but I pin him down to the ground, and rear back a fist.

"You wanted me to do my worst?" I snarl. "Here it comes."

"_{Supe--oh, God dammit,} CLARK! STOP!!!"

I freeze in place. The voice is like a splash of cold water across the face. Or like a searchlight on a foggy night, as it cuts right through the red haze that had been clouding my thoughts. All that anger, that rage that was driving me forward, evaporates.

"Lois?"

She's about ten paces away from us, one hand putting pressure on her forehead to try and stop the bleeding. Still, she's conscious, and on her feet. For a moment, a wave of relief washes over me.....until I look her in the eyes.

I've seen her angry plenty of times. But behind that is something I've never seen in her, something that might as well drive a stake through my heart. She's afraid.

"He was helping us, Clark," she says. "What the hell are you doing?"

All the righteous anger I'd been using to keep pushing myself forward gives away. I scramble away from the man I was about to beat into the dirt, trying to get away from myself just as much as I'm trying to get way from him. Looking around me, the cloudy red haze gone completely, I finally see what's going on, what I'm doing.

And all I can feel is shame.

She's afraid of me.

"I....I wasn't...." I start to sputter. "Livewire, she......my mind, it's not.....I'm not......oh, God......I'm sorry....."

Earlier today, I'd been talking with her about the potential run-in with the Batman. I'd been the one willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, to think maybe there was more to him than what the media had made him out to be. Now here I am, proclaiming judgments and ready to cave his skull in.

Maybe Lois was right. 'Sometimes a wild animal is just a wild animal.' But maybe Batman isn't the animal here.

"Easy there, Big Guy," she says, taking a few tentative steps closer to me. "It's gonna be all right. Maybe you weren't yourself for a moment there. But you are now, right? You're gonna get a hold of yourself, and you're gonna make this right.....right?"

".....right...." I mutter.

"And you," she says, turning to the prone form of Batman, "First and foremost.....thanks. Dr. Irons and I would be dead if it weren't for you. Secondly, I'm guessing you've got a bunker or a headquarters or somewhere that we can take Dr. Irons where the Toyman can't reach him. And thirdly, while we're there, I'm also going to assume you don't go to a public hospital to patch yourself up, and I'll be honest, unless there are two of you all of a sudden, I'm a little worried I might have a concussion. Think it'd be possible for you and my man to stop hosing down the street with testosterone long enough for us to take five?"

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

Once again, I feel a million pins and needles sticking into my body as my muscles spasm from the Batman's taser. My jaw clenches so hard I feel like my teeth are going to break, and my back arches back so far I can feel my vertebrae pop. The air around me smells of ozone, before it's mixed with the odor of smoke as my t-shirt starts to singe.

"Y-.....---you're---.....--you're th--" I try to speak, the words getting caught up and stopped by the intense electrical shock. With as much willpower I can manage, I uncurl one of my fists just long enough to grab the prongs from the taser, rip them out, and toss them aside with more than a little contempt.

Sparks fly as the electrical cables dance across the ground, and I take in a deep breath before glaring at my opponent.

"As I was saying," I say between breaths, "You're the third person today who's tried to electrocute me."

Stalking towards him, I can start to feel my arms grow heavy, my head swimming. That taser was minor compared to what the self-proclaimed 'Electrocutioner' was carrying, and nothing at all compared to what Livewire can do, but with so little power left in the tank, it still did its damage.

But Batman doesn't need to know that. So I do what I always do when I'm hit with something that hurts like hell and leaves me sapped of my strength: I square up my shoulders, puff out my chest, and I keep moving forward. Most of the time, the difference between being tough and being 'invincible' is keeping up appearances.

"I don't know how you've gotten wrapped up in the Toyman's plot," I say, lunging towards him and giving him a shove that sends him sprawling back. "And right now, I don't really give a damn. I've let you go unchecked for too long, let you snap limbs, put police officers in the hospital, attempt to assassinate a district attorney."

I rush him again, grabbing him by the front of his costume, clenching the bat-symbol in my fist and feeling it tear free. The part of me that's seeing red right now wants to really unload on this lunatic, show him the same kind of brutality he's inflicted upon this city. Another part of me is holding my fist back, pleading that maybe there's more to this than it seems, that I'm missing something.

I won't hurt him, if I can avoid it. But I will stop him, here and now.

"You've turned the people of this city into a cowardly, superstitious lot," I say, hoisting him up off the ground, "convinced them that you're a monster, a bogeyman, something to be feared. But I'm not afraid of you, Batman. I'm not going to fall for your tricks, or buy into your illusions. You're not some creature of the night. You're a sick man who needs help before he hurts anyone else."

With that, I toss him up and back, not with the intent to do damage, but to get the message across that he's not going to win this.

"I'm only going to tell you once," I tell him. "Stand down, or I put you down."

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

The world around me is a blur, thanks in part to the haze in my mind that’s been irritating me ever since regaining consciousness, but mostly due to the sheer speed as I tear through the sky across the Bay.

Thoughts are still scrambled, memories not piecing together the way they should, but the fog is starting to lift a little. There’s a country-wide crisis going on, maybe a worldwide crisis, across multiple cities. Jimmy mentioned Central City-- could mean the Flash is in the same sort of situation. New York has a few heroes as well, who might be targets. God only knows who else is in the line of fire right now. And I’m already running on fumes.

All of that is just so much background noise, however, things I’ll have to deal with later, as I see twinkling lights of Gotham City on the horizon, growing larger with every second as I close in. Right now, there’s only one thing keeping me going as my body begs to give out, one person for whom, even as drained and worn-down as I am now, I’d gladly charge the gates of Hell and fight the Devil himself.

Lois.

Since our meeting in Nairomi where she gave me the idea of going public with my abilities, since she pulled strings to get me an interview with Perry White, since she coined the name ‘Superman,’ she’s been at the heart of what I do and how I do it. We watch each other’s backs, we keep each other’s deepest secrets, we trust each other to the ends of the earth. But the exact nature of our relationship has always been….cloudy, at best. The complications of me being who I am would make it difficult to be with anyone. I assumed that I’d never truly be able to connect with someone, to consign those thoughts to daydreams and what-ifs, my desires and common sense colliding to leave me a stammering mess when the subject comes up.

But even as my thoughts are a haze, one thought pierces through like a beacon: I’d move Heaven and Earth for Lois Lane. And if she’s in danger, God Himself won’t be able to help whoever’s responsible.

I see pillars of smoke rising above the skyline, hear the pop of gunfire. Whatever the larger crisis at hand is, it’s reached Gotham City. And if I were a betting man, I’d put good money on Lois being in the thick of it. Straining hard to keep myself airborne, I push myself that much harder to speed towards the chaos.

Touching down, there are overturned cars, a blazing wreck that looks like the aftermath of a bomb going off, and a flight of drones whizzing through the air firing at someone obscured by smoke.

“Toyman,” I scowl as I see the drones, painted and dressed up like old-timey toy airplanes. I didn’t think he’d launch an attack outside of Metropolis. Nevertheless, I need to shut this down as quickly as I can.

Normally, I’d just blast them with Heat Vision, but I don’t have enough energy in the tank for that. Still, I can’t have them gunning down innocent people.

“HEY! Over here!” I shout out to try and get their attention, turn their guns on me instead of their current target. Sure enough, one of them swoops towards me, painting my chest with a red laser dot.

KA-BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

High-caliber armor-piercing rounds slam against my chest, each one connecting with a hard thump that makes me have to plant my feet to avoid staggering back. They sting like crazy, but I hold my ground.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that, Toyman!” I shout to the killer drone as it pulls up and away, two more of them swooping down behind it to continue the attack. This time, rather than just take the gunfire, I go on the offensive. Ripping the door off one of the wrecked cars, I fling it through the air like a frisbee, smashing into the two drones before they can break away.

Charging forward, I single out a fourth drone and leap into the air, winding back my fist as I reach the crest of my arc and smashing the flying robot with a wide right hook. Unable to generate enough of a gravitational field to stop the arc of my jump, I strike the side of a building, my face taking out chunks of concrete as I glance off of it and tumble back down into the street.

“Three down,” I say to myself as I pick myself up, “two to go.”

The first drone has looped back around and begins to pepper the pavement with gunfire. I shrug off the bullets that smack against me, and grab hold of a parking meter, uprooting it from the ground. As the drone dives for another strafing run, I charge towards it, swinging the metal parking meter like a baseball bat. Several million dollars’ worth of high-end military hardware bursts into a shower of sparks and shrapnel upon contact.

As the last drone banks away to try to escape, I take my makeshift weapon and hurl it like a spear, which arcs gracefully through the air before smashing into the drone and sending its debris to the ground.

Now that the immediate crisis is at hand, some more of the fog in my brain starts to lift as I begin to search the area for people in danger.

“Is everyone all right?” I call out into the turmoil of the park. “Does anyone need-”

That’s when I see him, lying in a heap beside a tree.

Doctor John Henry Irons.

Dammit, Clark, he was the Toyman’s target. Of course. Lois said she was going to talk to him, about an old associate, a Winslow Schott. Somehow, Schott must have gotten word, targeted Irons and--

Oh, God.

“LOIS!”

She’s unconscious. A trickle of blood seeps from her head. Every thought in my mind falls away. The fog in my head that was starting to lift becomes a storm. Everything goes red.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement. A figure in black.

Him.

The one I was hunting. The Batman.

Before I even know what I’m doing, I rush towards the cloaked figure, and feel my hand at his throat.

“You,” I growl as I hoist him off the ground. “What was your part in this? What did you do?!”