Rooftop Summit and Clash of Ideals

Metropolis had never known a night this oppressive. At the top of Wayne Tower, as if at the eye of a storm, the world's attention converged, yet an eerie silence prevailed. The cold high-altitude wind howled past, whipping up Bruce's cape, as heavy as the night itself, with a sharp fluttering snap. Like a silent statue, he looked down at the steel forest below, half-paralyzed by panic. Distant sirens and the screams of crowds came and went like waves, unable to stir his icy gaze in the slightest.

Behind him, Barry Allen paced back and forth anxiously. The excess energy granted by the Speed Force made it impossible for him to remain as utterly still as Bruce. At times, he looked over the city's chaos; at others, he raised his head toward the deep night sky, as though expecting something and fearing it at the same time.

"Will he... will he come?" Barry finally could not help asking, uncertainty in his voice. "I mean, if I were him, suddenly wanted by the entire world, with someone from my hometown coming to capture me... I'd probably find somewhere to hide and never come out."

Bruce did not turn around. He merely said flatly, "He will."

"How can you be so sure?" Barry stopped pacing and asked curiously. "And... do you think he might choose to surrender? To... save everyone?"

The same question was circling through someone else's mind several kilometers away.

Several thousand meters above Metropolis, amidst the clouds, a figure floated silently. Clark Kent—or rather, Superman—was watching the two figures atop Wayne Tower with senses beyond mortal comprehension.

His super-vision clearly made out the cold angles of Bruce's mask and the anxious expression on Barry's face. His super-hearing carried every word of their conversation to his ears without missing a thing.

After finishing his call with Bruce, he had not immediately set out. His adoptive mother Martha's embrace had given him warmth, but not answers. Deep down, the simple boy from a Kansas farm was still struggling with the seemingly noble option of sacrificing himself to save the world. He had even considered flying straight to Washington and surrendering to the military, offering himself in exchange for Zod's retreat.

But Batman's bloody reputation in Gotham had kept him on guard. Could a "hero" who ruled the underworld with fear and violence truly be trusted? Could he simply be another Lex Luthor, seeking to use Clark to achieve some unspeakable goal?

So, he chose to observe. He wanted to hear for himself what this Batman, who called himself Bruce Wayne, was really up to.

Then, he heard Bruce's answer. It was a cold, cruel voice, yet one filled with irrefutable logic.

"Surrender?" Bruce finally turned slowly to face Barry. The white-glowing eyes beneath his mask seemed capable of piercing straight through the heart. "You're thinking of war too simply, Barry."

"Surrender is a gamble based on the assumption that the other side will honor its promises. You hand over your bargaining chip in exchange for their concession. But look at Zod. Do you think he looks like someone who keeps his promises?"

Bruce raised a hand and pointed toward the Kryptonian ship, faintly visible in the night sky like a black cross suspended over the city.

"He is a general from a civilization that was destroyed, an avenger who crossed endless seas of stars. His declaration was not an invitation to negotiate. It was the judgment of a god. What he wants was never as simple as 'capturing' Carl-El."

Bruce's voice grew lower, carrying the cold weight of strategic analysis.

"To him, Carl-El is not a criminal who needs to be judged. He is an 'object,' a 'container' holding something Zod desperately needs. Do you think that after a robber takes the most valuable thing on your person, he will spare your house out of mercy just because you obeyed?"

"No," Bruce answered himself, his tone utterly decisive. "He will burn down your house as well, ensuring there are no loose ends. What Zod wants is something on Carl-El, and his ultimate objective is very likely this planet itself."

"Think about it, Barry." Bruce stepped closer, and his overwhelming presence made Barry instinctively retreat half a step. "Why would a civilization with such advanced technology be destroyed? Civil war? A plague? Resource depletion? No matter which it was, it means their civilization had reached its end. Now, they have found a new planet, full of life and blessed with a yellow sun... What do you think they will do?"

"Rebuild... Krypton?" Barry sucked in a sharp breath as a terrifying thought surfaced in his mind.

"Exactly. They will turn Earth into a second Krypton. And us..." Bruce swept his gaze over the city beneath them. "What will happen to us, the 'lower lifeforms' in their eyes? Do you think humans can survive in Krypton's environment?"

Bruce's words were like a sharp scalpel, precisely cutting apart the last trace of naive fantasy in Clark's heart.

"Turn Earth... into a second Krypton..."

Clark shuddered as if struck by lightning!

He remembered. When he had first entered the Kryptonian scout ship frozen in the North Pole, the consciousness projection of his father, Jor-El, had once described General Zod to him.

"Zod... He was Krypton's greatest military leader, a perfect warrior genetically engineered to protect Krypton. His sense of mission ran to his bones. But he did not understand compromise. All he saw was Krypton's continuation, and for that, he could sacrifice everything... including the right of other civilizations to survive."

"When he launched his coup, I stole the Codex of Life, the genetic information of billions of unborn Kryptonians, and fused it... with your cells."

"Zod did not come to Earth for you, Carl. He came for the Codex. He wants to use it to rebuild a pure-blooded Krypton under his control in a new world."

His father's warning now overlapped perfectly with Bruce's cold analysis in his mind!

Clark understood instantly.

Bruce was right. What Zod wanted was the Codex of Life inside his body! And Zod's ultimate goal was to "format" Earth and turn it into a new home fit for Kryptonians!

If he surrendered, not only would he fail to save Earth, he would personally hand the key to destroying the entire world to the enemy!

His "self-sacrifice" seemed so ridiculous, so childish, so... useless in the face of Zod's grand plan for his species' survival!

At that moment, every hesitation, doubt, and struggle in Clark's heart was shattered by the cruel reality. He finally understood how pale and powerless the kindness and morality he had inherited from his human adoptive parents were when faced with a survival conflict on the scale of interstellar civilizations.

He could not keep running away.

He could no longer hope to trade compromise for peace.

The only way out was to fight!

And the dark knight standing on that rooftop, the man he had once regarded with wariness and suspicion, was the first—and the only—person to see through the truth of it all.

Clark took a deep breath. Thin, icy air flooded his lungs at that altitude, leaving his mind clearer than ever before. He no longer hesitated. The confusion in his eyes was replaced by an unprecedented resolve.

He concealed every trace of his presence. Like an arrow released from the bow, his body silently cut through the night sky and sped toward Wayne Tower, faintly glowing in the darkness.

At the top of Wayne Tower.

Bruce had just finished his analysis, while Barry was still immersed in shock, trying to process the chilling vision of the future.

Then, as if sensing something, Bruce raised his head slightly.

A faint disturbance in the airflow, almost impossible to detect, swept past.

Immediately afterward, a red-and-blue figure descended soundlessly ten meters in front of them like a ghost. He made no sound; even the impact of his landing was perfectly controlled, and the ground beneath his feet did not tremble in the slightest. Only the bright red cape behind him was caught by the air currents at the moment of landing, flaring like a burning flame before slowly falling still.

The newcomer was tall and powerfully built. His blue bodysuit outlined muscles as perfect as a classical Greek sculpture. The vivid red S-shaped emblem on his chest shone with hope and strength beneath the city lights. His face was handsome, his jaw sharply defined, and his sapphire-blue eyes now gleamed with a complex yet unwavering light.

It was Superman, Clark Kent.

Barry jumped at the sudden appearance and instinctively assumed a guarded stance. Faint arcs of electricity even flickered over his body.

But Bruce remained calm. He merely looked silently at the son of Krypton before him, as though his arrival had been entirely expected.

"You came," Bruce said, his voice flat and unreadable.

Clark looked at Batman before him, then at the nervous young man in red beside him, and took a deep breath.

"Everything you said was true?" Clark's voice was low and powerful. He meant Bruce's analysis of Zod's true objective.

"I do not make jokes about the safety of the entire world," Bruce replied.

"Good." Clark nodded, and the last trace of doubt vanished from his eyes. "I believe you."

He took two steps forward, his gaze passing between Bruce and Barry before he spoke solemnly. "My name is Carl-El. On Earth, my name is Clark Kent."

"What General Zod wants is something inside my body, the hope of my species' continuation. He wants to turn Earth into a new Krypton."

"So, I cannot surrender." Clark slowly clenched his fists at his sides, producing a faint crack of knuckles. "I need help."

At that moment, Earth's three most powerful protectors stood on the same side for the first time.

A three-way meeting that would decide the fate of the world officially began atop the highest point in the city.