Avatar Is Exactly What I Want

Floyd leaned halfway out and fired two precise shots. Two mob gunmen dropped.

But it did no good. The gunfire was too heavy.

Bang!

A deafening crash shook the hall.

The enormous crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, weighing several tons and worth over a million dollars, came crashing down.

It landed squarely between the two sides exchanging fire.

The impact smashed a huge crater into the marble floor. Thousands of sharp glass shards sprayed outward like a downpour.

Several mob gunmen standing too close were pierced by the shards and fell screaming into pools of blood.

Everyone froze and stared in horror at the enormous hole in the ceiling.

Through the dust and gunsmoke,

Chu Men descended slowly through the hole, his arm around Harley.

He hovered in midair, then landed steadily.

A deathly silence fell over the entire hall.

Hundreds of mobsters lowered their guns, dropped to one knee, and bowed their heads, hardly daring to breathe.

Floyd and the other two looked up, their pupils contracting sharply.

They saw Harley, who should have been fighting Chu Men to the death upstairs, nestled sweetly in his arms.

Harley even turned toward them, gave a playful wave, and blew them a kiss.

"You filthy bitch!" Dig finally snapped.

He sprang to his feet, grabbed the jagged half of a broken bottle, and hurled it at Harley with everything he had.

The bottle arced through the air.

With a bang, the Bio-electric Field crushed it to powder, which drifted across the floor.

Floyd's eyes were bloodshot.

He had spent years on the edge of life and death and had an animal's instinct for danger.

Now that instinct told him there was no chance of surviving.

A.R.G.U.S. had abandoned them. Their teammate had betrayed them.

They had become clowns trapped in an arena.

"Then let's go to hell together!" Floyd raised his left hand with a manic laugh.

The metal cube was clenched tightly in his hand.

His thumb hovered over the off switch. If he crushed it, the jammer would fail and the signal would return.

Amanda Waller, far away in Washington, would immediately detonate the Nano Bombs in their necks.

It was the only leverage he had left to take this monster down with him.

Chu Men looked at Floyd's crazed face, his gaze utterly unmoved.

A dark red glint flashed through his eyes.

A thread-thin beam of Heat Vision swept across, faster than lightning.

It moved too fast for the naked eye to follow.

Floyd did not even cry out.

His entire right arm slid off at the shoulder.

The severed hand still gripping the jammer landed in a pool of blood with a plop.

Floyd stared for a second. His brain had not yet processed the pain of losing his arm.

Then an agonized scream tore from his throat.

Clutching his charred shoulder stump, he collapsed to his knees.

Lark darted out like a ghost. She picked up the severed hand, pried its stiff fingers open one by one, and took the jammer.

She knelt on one knee and presented it to Chu Men with both hands, her posture deferential.

Chu Men did not even glance at the little device.

He had lost interest.

The Bio-electric Field instantly compressed inward.

The invisible shield that had pushed outward became three crushing forces, pinning Floyd, Dig, and Nanaue from a distance.

Crack!

The sickening sound of breaking bones echoed through the hall.

It was as though an invisible, irresistible hand had seized all three of them.

Bones snapped. Organs were crushed.

Nanaue's massive body thrashed against the Force Field, but the tough muscles and bones he took such pride in were as fragile as tofu against such overwhelming power.

Hundreds of mob gunmen watched in utter terror.

The three formidable villains were crushed alive into three mangled balls of flesh.

Their deaths were gruesome. Bone fragments pierced skin, and blood mixed with bits of viscera spread along the seams in the marble floor.

Chu Men turned away coldly.

He gave the bodies no second glance. Stepping over broken glass and blood, he pulled Harley upstairs.

When they reached the top floor, they passed a bathroom.

Harley caught sight of her face in the mirror, smeared with blood and makeup, and reached for the faucet to wash it off.

Chu Men seized her wrist.

His grip was so hard that Harley cried out in pain.

Chu Men pinned her against the bathroom door.

He looked down at her strange, wild, bloodied face.

His eyes held undisguised brutality and a twisted possessiveness.

"Don't move." Chu Men's voice was low, his command absolute. "That makeup is exactly what I want."

A red-and-blue streak tore through the rain clouds above Gotham.

Diana flew at tremendous speed, sonic booms bursting one after another behind her.

The miniature computer on her wrist flashed red rapidly as it received superhuman coordinates from the Batcave.

Suddenly, the Lasso of Truth at her waist grew scorching hot.

An image flashed through Diana's mind.

Deep beneath the Divine Temple on Themyscira, the sealed stone coffin locked down by layer upon layer of magical wards was shaking violently.

Thick bronze chains snapped with sharp cracks.

Diana braked hard in midair.

Her boots sent a violent shock wave through the air.

She raised her wrist and opened the comm channel.

"Bruce. Change of plans." Diana's voice carried a rare gravity. "Something's happened on Themyscira."

"Details." Bruce's voice came back cold and clipped.

"The Oracle Stone is resonating. Something ancient is waking up. I have to go back. The boy in Central City is yours."

Diana cut the connection, turned, and streaked toward the depths of the ocean.

On the outskirts of Central City stood an abandoned underground garage.

It was cramped and damp, with water seeping through the walls. Discarded aircraft materials, broken circuit boards, and empty pizza boxes littered the floor.

Barry Allen sat on a battered secondhand sofa, holding half a slice of cold cheese pizza.

Eight mismatched monitors stood on the rusty metal table before him, all playing the same video.

On-screen, Chu Men hovered in midair as dark red beams swept across the scene, slaughtering everyone in their path.

Barry struggled to swallow the pizza. His throat bobbed, and his eyes were filled with fear and confusion.

"This world's gone crazy. Completely crazy," Barry muttered. "Superman got his bones stomped to pieces. I'm just a regular guy who runs fast. There's nothing I can do."

He looked up and reached for the soda on the table.

"You do run very fast."

A low, gravelly voice spoke from a corner of the garage.

Barry jolted, dropping the soda can.

In the darkness, Bruce Wayne sat in a battered armchair with his hands folded over his knees, as still as a ghost.

Barry's eyes widened. His gaze darted between Bruce and the closed roll-up door.

"The door's locked. How... how did you get in?" Barry waved his hands wildly, stumbling over his words. "How long have you been sitting there? That chair has fleas!"