The Gods Waver

Chu Men glanced up.

He tore a piece of metal from a wrecked armored vehicle beside him and casually tossed it skyward.

The fragment sliced through the helicopter's tail rotor.

The helicopter lost its balance, spun through the air, and crashed into a nearby office building.

An explosion rang out, and flames shot into the sky.

Three minutes.

The remaining mercenaries looked at the bodies and twisted metal strewn across the ground. Their nerve finally broke.

The equipment they took such pride in, the superpowers they thought made them invincible—none of it worked against this man.

"A monster... He's a monster!"

Someone dropped his weapon and fled. Others followed, scrambling in every direction.

Panic spread, and the entire elite force became a scattering of refugees.

"Leaving already?" Chu Men rose into the air and stopped ten meters above the ground. "The game's only just begun. How can my guests leave early?"

Red light flared in his eyes. Beams tracked the fleeing figures.

Screams tore through the night.

Chu Men swept his gaze across them, picking them off one by one. People fell in every direction.

"No! Please!" A mercenary dropped to his knees and clasped his hands together.

A beam pierced his chest, leaving a charred hole.

Screams rose and fell, the only accompaniment to the rainy night.

Chu Men spared no one. He reveled in the power to decide who lived and died, and fleeing prey only made the hunt more exciting.

The slaughter ended.

Three blocks had become a slaughterhouse.

Rain washed over the streets, but it could not wash away the blood covering the ground. The air reeked of it, thick enough to turn the stomach.

The wind carried the stench across Gotham.

Chu Men drifted slowly through the air with Luthor in his grip, surveying his handiwork.

Luthor opened his eyes and looked down at the hellish scene. He could not stop trembling.

Half an hour earlier, Luthor had sat in a conference room, issuing orders and plotting to extract this man's genes.

Chu Men loosened his fingers slightly.

Air rushed into Luthor's lungs, setting off a fit of coughing.

He opened his mouth wide and greedily gulped down air laced with blood and smoke.

"Kill me," Luthor rasped.

"Where's the fun in that?" Chu Men tilted his head.

Beneath Wayne Manor.

The enormous screen at the main console showed a live feed from Gotham's East End.

Explosions had destroyed most of the hidden cameras, but the few that remained had still recorded everything that had just happened.

Bruce sat before the console with his hands clasped beneath his chin. The screen's cold light washed over his expressionless face.

Screams, explosions, and pleas for mercy echoed through the chilly cave.

In a specialized Medical Pod nearby, Clark's eyes snapped open.

"Let me out." Clark's voice came through the communicator, strained with urgency.

"In your condition, going out there is suicide." Bruce stared at the footage of Chu Men tearing a mech apart with his bare hands.

"He's slaughtering people, Bruce!" Clark shoved hard against the pod door.

The titanium-alloy exoskeleton bracing his body scraped against his bones with a creak.

"That's Lex Luthor's private army." Bruce swiveled his chair toward Clark in the Medical Pod. "They aren't civilians. They took lethal weapons and provoked a monster. This is war."

"War doesn't justify slaughter!" Clark's eyes were bloodshot. "Let me go... I have to stop him..."

Bruce stood and walked over to the Medical Pod.

He looked at Clark's broken body, then at his bloodshot eyes.

"With what?" Bruce's voice was cold and flat. "Your broken ribs? Or that ridiculous mercy of yours?"

Clark froze.

"You lost, Clark." Bruce planted both hands on the Medical Pod and leaned forward. "The strength you're so proud of did nothing against him. You couldn't even protect yourself. How are you going to protect anyone else?"

"But..."

"No buts." Bruce cut him off. "You need time to recover. We need time to find his weakness. Go now, and you'll die for nothing."

Clark stared hard into Bruce's eyes.

They held each other's gaze for more than ten seconds.

At last, Clark's clenched fists fell open. He lowered his head and closed his eyes.

A stifled, anguished cry came from the Medical Pod.

Bruce turned and walked back to the main console.

"I hope you don't do anything foolish, Diana."

Bruce spoke under his breath.

Gotham's East End, several kilometers from the scene.

In the shadow of a shattered clock tower.

Diana leaned against a crumbling brick wall and held her breath. Rain poured over her coat.

She peered through the curtain of rain at the demonic figure suspended in the distance.

Amazon warriors never feared battle, and they never retreated before an enemy. That pride was in their bones.

But now, Diana's palms were sweating.

Before leaving, she had told Bruce that if she could cut through the force field, she could end the Tyrant with her Amazon sword.

She had been certain that Chu Men's strength lay only in that invisible shell.

Now she finally understood why Bruce had said conventional tactics would not work.

Diana's grip tightened around her sword hilt.

If she charged in now and drew Magic-Breaker...

Yes, Magic-Breaker could cut through any energy field. She could breach Chu Men's outer defenses.

And then?

Diana drew a deep breath. The chill of the rain kept her mind clear.

Reason finally overruled her instincts as an Amazon warrior.

She knew charging out now would accomplish nothing but add another corpse to the ruins.

She needed to join forces with Clark and Bruce. She might even need help from others.

Alone, she had no chance.

Diana slowly released her sword hilt, turned, and disappeared into the darkness behind her.

In midair, Chu Men turned his head toward the direction Diana had gone, still holding Luthor in his grip. A smile tugged at his lips.