The Green Light of Death

Lex Tower's underground structure was far more complex than it appeared from aboveground. Like an inverted iceberg, it grew larger, more secretive, and more heavily guarded the deeper one went. This was Lex Luthor's true kingdom, where all his hidden secrets and most advanced technology lay concealed.

Bruce slipped out of the chaotic top floor with the crowd through an emergency passage. In an empty fire equipment room, he retrieved a set of terrifying gear from a backpack he had hidden there beforehand.

Cold alloy components rapidly assembled and locked into place around him. Dark gray armor covered his entire body, its sharp lines giving it the impression of defined musculature. The instant he put on the helmet, it clicked softly, and pale blue lenses lit up. His vision was instantly flooded with countless streams of data and tactical analyses.

Bruce Wayne disappeared. In his place stood the Arkham Knight.

"Sir, the route map has been sent to your tactical lenses. B7, Special Item Storage. I have disabled ninety percent of the surveillance cameras along the way, but you will still need to deal with some physical sensors and patrols yourself," Alfred's voice said through the earpiece.

"Understood."

Bruce moved like a black bolt of lightning through the complex maze of pipes and ventilation shafts. His movements were utterly silent, as calm and effortless as taking a walk through his own home. Whenever he encountered unavoidable infrared sensors, he used freeze bombs to temporarily lock their functions in place. When he came across patrolling guards, he could scarcely be bothered to lay a hand on them. He simply unleashed the near-tangible Fear Aura of the Arkham Knight. The unfortunate guards instantly lost their nerve, plunged into their deepest nightmares, and collapsed on their own.

Before long, he reached the end of B7. A monstrously thick circular alloy door, gleaming with a metallic sheen, blocked his path. There was no keyhole or keypad on it, only a biometric scanner.

"Alfred, handle it."

"A simple matter, sir."

A few seconds later, the scanner's green light came on. With a dull hydraulic rumble, the massive alloy door slowly slid aside.

Bruce did not enter immediately. His tactical lenses had already detected radiation beyond the threshold, intense enough to make an ordinary person sick.

Lead lining... so that was what this was for.

He took a palm-sized, disc-like device from his utility belt. Once activated, a pale blue energy field instantly enveloped his body, sealing out the harmful radiation. Only then did he step into Luthor's vault.

The storage room itself was not especially large, but the sight before him was enough to make anyone familiar with the situation shudder from head to toe.

Rows of high-strength alloy shelves held dozens of lead containers of varying sizes, each gleaming silver-gray. The entire room was shrouded in an icy, deathly stillness, while an unsettling, ominous green glow permeated the air.

That green light leaked from gaps in the lead boxes that had not been fully sealed. Like the breath of hell, every flicker pronounced death upon a god.

Kryptonite.

A vast quantity of extremely pure Kryptonite.

Bruce stopped before the largest container, which had already been opened. It was empty inside, with only some green crystalline dust remaining.

This must have been the "heart" inside Metallo. Luthor really was willing to spend big.

His gaze swept across the other containers as the armor's sensors screamed warnings, continuously analyzing the Kryptonite's quality, radiation intensity, and projected decay cycles.

This much... did Luthor scour up every piece of Kryptonite on Earth? As Bruce walked between the shelves, even he felt a ripple of emotion. He knew that any one of these stones could turn the all-powerful Superman into an ordinary man who could be killed with ease.

He could not help considering where these things had come from. Fragments of memories from the comics of his previous life rapidly overlapped with the scene before him, and a clear chain of logic formed in his mind.

At the instant Krypton exploded, countless fragments of the planet—mixed with Krypton-element crystals mutated by extreme pressure and radiation—were hurled into the vast universe at terrifying speed. Like a deadly meteor shower, they drifted through space.

And during the lonely voyage of the lifeboat Jor-El launched for his son Kal-El—a journey long enough to cross several star systems—the Kryptonian energy signature carried by the ship itself acted like a massive magnet, constantly drawing in Kryptonite fragments of the same origin that had been wandering aimlessly through space.

In the end, the ship crashed in Smallville, Kansas. Those "followers" drawn to it also fell across every corner of Earth, forming a vast scattered belt centered on Smallville.

Luthor, a genius in both business and science, must have detected Superman's spacecraft crash long ago. By analyzing the energy radiation left at the crash site, he worked backward to calculate the meteor's trajectory and the dispersal range of the "associated minerals" it brought with it. Then he mobilized all of LexCorp's resources and launched a worldwide carpet search, digging up these god-killing stones one by one from deep underground like a greedy miner and hiding them here.

Having worked it all out, Bruce's estimation of Lex Luthor rose another level. He was not merely an arrogant madman; he was a strategist with terrifying execution and extraordinary intelligence.

Bruce had no time for sentiment. He knew the battle upstairs could end at any moment. He did not greedily try to take all the Kryptonite—that was unrealistic, and the target would be too conspicuous. He only needed the most important pieces.

He activated the armor's scanning function and quickly filtered the Kryptonite in every container by purity. Before long, he locked onto three targets.

He went to one shelf and used a plasma cutter to precisely sever the lead box's latch. When he opened the lid, a piece of Kryptonite the size of an adult's fist lay quietly on velvet padding. It was emerald green throughout, translucent and flawless, like the finest emerald gemstone. Its faint green glow was beautiful, yet full of death.

Bruce carefully removed it and placed it in a smaller, specially made case he carried with him, one with thicker lead shielding.

One piece for making weapons that can pierce Kryptonian skin—bullets, perhaps, or blade coatings.

Next, he selected a second piece. It was somewhat smaller, but its radiation frequency fluctuations were the most stable.

One piece for Lucius to study in depth. Analyze all its physical and chemical properties and determine exactly how it affects Kryptonian cells. Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated.

Finally, he headed to the deepest part of the storage room. There was only a small container there, but it had the highest level of protection. After opening it, he found a piece of Kryptonite no larger than his thumb, yet purer than any other in the room. The green light it emitted was almost tangible.

Bruce placed it in the case as well.

The final piece... the ultimate insurance. Hopefully, I'll never need it.

With the three most crucial pieces of Kryptonite secured, the weight in Bruce's heart finally lifted.

With these, I have the right to sit at the negotiating table as an equal with a "god." He looked at the heavy lead case in his hand, his expression incomparably complicated. This was not for killing, much less to prove, as Luthor did in his twisted way, that humanity was superior.

This was for balance.

To place shackles called "fear" upon that god who was too idealistic and too kind. To ensure that one day, if that god fell because of rage or grief, someone would be able to stand up and stop the disaster that could destroy the world.

Once he was done, Bruce did not linger for even a moment. At top speed, he erased every trace of his presence, deleted the surveillance records, and even restored the dust on the floor to how it had been before he entered. Then he changed back into Bruce Wayne's attire and silently returned near the top-floor hall.

By then, the sounds of fierce combat had already ceased.

Peering out through the crack of a security door, he saw that the hall was in ruins. Metallo had been beaten to pieces and lay sprawled on the ground like a heap of scrap metal, the red light in his chest extinguished. Superman floated weakly in midair, a bead of sweat on his forehead and his breathing somewhat labored. The Kryptonite radiation had clearly affected him badly.

Lex Luthor, meanwhile, adjusted his perfectly neat suit and began an Oscar-worthy performance before the swarm of reporters who had arrived belatedly.

He walked up to Superman with a grave, compassionate expression. Not only did he offer no thanks, he instead addressed the cameras in a deep voice. "Ladies and gentlemen! Do you see it? This is their power! A battle between them can easily destroy everything we have! Today, a bad one fell, and we were fortunate. But what if tomorrow, a good one falls? What if their disagreements require our cities to serve as their battlefield?"

He spread his arms, his voice brimming with provocation.

"Our future as human beings cannot, and absolutely should not, rest upon the civil war of these outsiders we cannot understand or control! What we need is order! A controllable future that belongs to humanity itself!"

His words exploded among the crowd like bomb after bomb. Panic, suspicion, agreement... all kinds of emotions intertwined across the faces of the public and the reporters.

Superman looked weakly at Luthor. He wanted to speak in rebuttal, but found himself unable to defend against it. Luthor's words were filled with prejudice and malice, yet from a certain perspective... they were impossible to refute. Looking at the people below casting complicated gazes at him, those blue eyes filled with deep exhaustion and confusion for the first time.

From the shadows, Bruce watched it all coldly.

Poor Clark. Welcome to the real world.

He did not watch any longer. Turning away, he disappeared completely into the darkness.

He had obtained what he wanted and seen Luthor's sinister nature for what it was. Every strategic objective of his trip to Metropolis had been exceeded.

It was time to return to Gotham.