Los Angeles.
The Flash looked at the houses destroyed by energy flames, then at the buildings collapsing under their own weight after their support columns gave way.
They fell like a tower of blocks, rumbling to the ground.
It was like the end of the world.
"Deathstroke!"
The Flash roared through gritted teeth. A massive current burst from him, dark-blue arcs spreading in every direction.
They spread like a vast net.
The Flash blurred into a collapsing building. He spotted people who hadn't escaped and grabbed them.
The terror on their faces hadn't even had time to fade.
At that speed, the arcs around the Flash turned into the golden Speed Force, like lightning made real.
Afterimages filled the surrounding buildings.
Barry also found Deathstroke, who had been knocked against a wall and was in bad shape.
Even so, Deathstroke used his greatsword to push himself upright.
The protective lens over his one eye had shattered. His metal armor was damaged, and blood seeped through in places.
"How are you?"
Barry flickered beside Deathstroke as he rescued people, moving so fast his afterimages looked like duplicates.
"He's strong..."
Deathstroke raised the broad greatsword and shook it, staring at a keychain caught on the blade. It belonged to Constantine.
Where was he?
Deathstroke hurriedly scanned the wreckage. He saw no sign of Constantine—but straight ahead!
He looked up toward Constantine's office, where a pair of enormous horns scraped against the floor.
Steppenwolf looked as though he had been locked in stocks, his head forced through while the rest of his body remained trapped on the other side.
But he had come prepared. He drew a deep breath, his face twisting with the effort.
A tremendous surge of energy wrapped around Steppenwolf as he forced himself through from Apokolips.
His left hand