The wind howled.
Downtown Metropolis could no longer be called a city. It was a stretch of scorched earth brutally plowed flat by two Kryptonian gods.
Every collision between Zod and Clark in midair burst into a ring of visible white sonic clouds high above. Terrifying shock waves surged like tangible tsunamis, carrying hundreds upon thousands of tons of reinforced concrete crashing down toward the ground.
The wind pressure lashed against their faces, cutting like knives.
Bruce Wayne knelt on one knee amid the ruins, the remnants of his black cape whipping wildly in the hot wind. He looked at the incongruously pink wooden door a dozen meters away, then at Yang Ming standing beside it, covered in blood, his clothes reduced to strips.
What was behind that door? A trap? Or another hell?
Bruce's mind ran through over a hundred scenarios in a tenth of a second.
He didn't hesitate.
Beep.
The Bat-terminal gave a crisp electronic chime.
"Ten million. Transferred." Bruce's voice was ice-cold, without a trace of hesitation.
He spun around and grabbed Dave, who was still staring dumbly at the battle of gods overhead, with his left hand. His fingers clamped around the back collar of the dark red Redscale armor.
"Hey, hey, hey! Mentor, what are you doing?!" Dave kicked wildly in midair like a duck seized by the neck.
Bruce didn't even look at him. With one powerful swing of his arm, he hurled his hundred-plus-pound apprentice through the pink wooden door like a sack. Then he took a long stride forward, disappearing into that eerie pink glow.
BOOOOM!!!
The instant Bruce vanished, a blinding burst of light erupted in the sky.
Zod drove a heavy punch into Clark's chest. The escaping energy formed a crimson surge dozens of meters across, shearing through the