"Clark was fine. He just needed to wait for the Kryptonite radiation in his body to dissipate." Batwoman stuffed a few iodine tablets into Superman's mouth, then rose to her feet. "Guy's injuries were fairly serious. He lost an arm, but the bleeding has stopped. Don't wake him."
Batwoman was the very definition of becoming a doctor through prolonged illness. She was frequently injured herself, so she had first-rate first-aid skills.
"I don't know how J'onn is doing either. Why did it have to be a Kryptonian covered in fire?" Green Arrow sat beside a small Round Table, still clutching a teacup as he sighed. "Who knows how long Constantine can hold out."
Black Canary said nothing. They had nearly died earlier, and Constantine had only managed to save them by moving everyone into Limbo. They were still trying to calm themselves.
The House of Mystery looked the same as always, as deserted and chilly as an old haunted house. Nearby, a grandfather clock made a dull swishing sound as its pendulum swung, like someone walking barefoot through the corridor.
Expressionless, Batwoman did not respond, because asking how long Constantine could hold off Doomsday was a false premise.
That man was probably already thinking of how to escape.
Illusions were useful, but they could not deceive that mad Superman forever. The real Constantine was actually moving in and out of Limbo, appearing in different places to set up magical phantoms before using long-distance voice transmission to lure Last Day into attacking them.
Once there was someone to take his place as a sacrificial pawn, Constantine would definitely stop playing immediately. The cost was not insignificant, after all.
So Batwoman turned her attention to the other Stranger beside the Round Table. She abruptly bent low, practically lying across the tabletop, and