Late at night, in Gotham.
The torrential rain silenced everything.
Only the searchlights, crisscrossing and drifting in the rain and mist, remained.
Then a thunderclap suddenly sounded!
The towering relief sculpture gleams with a ferocious expression on half of its surface.
Between the buildings, the clear water suddenly shone brightly, creating a layer of obscure and incomprehensible ripples before fading into darkness.
In the suburbs, beneath Wayne Manor, Batcave.
An underground stream flows by, and inside the dark cave, an inner chamber that has been artificially constructed is open.
The computer case cooling fans were constantly humming.
Below, a dozen curved screens were shining white light, casting dappled patterns on the damp rock wall.
Bruce Wayne sat somewhat seriously in front of the console, his hood casually tossed aside.
In the center of the screen, a data stream about the North American Aerospace Defense Command is scrolling by.
In the lower left corner, the geological image, cut into a miniature window, is filled with dense noise, making it almost impossible to discern the exact terrain features.
At that moment, a ceramic cup emerged from the darkness, its porcelain base gently tapping onto the worktable.
"Young master, your black coffee."
Alfred pulled his wrist back and placed the silver tray back on the small shelf beside him.
He looked at the blurry Spectrum on the screen and said curiously:
"It seems... the weather in Kansas is a bit unusual tonight. Could it be a thunderstorm?"
"No, it has very little to do with the weather... Alf."
Bruce's voice was a little hoarse, and then he swiped the touchpad with one hand to bring up a set of geomagnetic spectrum lines.
The curve above abruptly drops at a certain point.
Logically speaking, the nodes of the curve are continuous, and the probability of a sudden drop is very small.
Unless, something unexpected has happened.
"Based on the frequency bands intercepted, an unknown riot occurred in a unit dispatched by the Bureau of Extranormal Affairs."
The riots lasted only two minutes from their inception to their complete suppression.
The mouse moved, and an enlarged infrared image appeared on the screen.
The image shows a large expanse of land that appears to have been crushed and scorched.
And several car wrecks, crumpled up like soda cans.
"I've tried Alf, but neither radar nor satellites have detected any specific signs of life."
Bruce stared intently at the screen.
"A fully armed special operations unit was wiped out in just two minutes from the start of the firefight..."
The mutant that escaped from Nevada also disappeared.
There were no suspicious traces at the scene.
"This is something that none of our known weapons or countries can do."
Upon hearing Bruce's words, Alfred bent down and tapped the edge of the screen a few times.
"Young Master, the information you asked me to investigate has been obtained."
Around the time of the incident, Lois Ryan, a reporter for the Metropolis Daily Planet, had driven to Kansas three days prior.
Just hours before the incident, she was secretly arrested and detained by the Bureau of Investigation.
Afterwards, her father, Lieutenant General Sam Ryan, personally mobilized a helicopter guard to handle the aftermath under the highest level of secrecy.
Bruce frowned.
"But even if it's a deliberate attempt to clean up, there will always be flaws... but there was no information to be found at the scene."
That's precisely why it's the most dangerous.
A 'ghost' that can become completely invisible within the military's Skynet and instantly wipe out a special forces unit...
I must find out everything that happened behind the scenes.
"The word ' Zod ' appeared in Lois Ryan's article, and ' Kansas ' was repeatedly mentioned in the leaked audio from the lab."
The clues connected perfectly, and the "ghost" appeared right there in this location.
As he spoke, Bruce slammed his right hand down on the keyboard.
"Drop--!"
A red tracking point instantly appeared on the 3D map and then pinned to the coordinates of the border between Kansas and Smallville.
I'm going to Kansas.
Bruce slowly stood up and walked to the armory next to him.
Under the dim lighting, the Batsuit resting on the metal plate stood silently in the shadows.
"Prepare the fighter jets, Alf."
Bruce put on a black mask.
"Whatever elusive 'mystery' lies hidden in that wasteland, we must eliminate the risks and take control of the situation."
Alfred looked at his strong, yet somewhat lonely back and sighed softly:
"Yes, young master... ever since the passing of the master and young lady, and the matter with Constantine, you've become even more cautious and suspicious..."
"Although it looks more like a curse."
At the same time.
In the Nevada underground, in the Bureau of Extranormal Affairs' top-secret conference room.
It's not as cold as Gotham here.
Yet, a suffocating tension permeated the air.
Initially, they did not associate this "sudden event" with extraterrestrial civilizations.
After all... it was just over twenty years ago.
Humanity once hoped to Burning gold leaf, bearing the inscription of civilization's identity, into the deep space via Voyager 1.
This first step into the unknown world, however, never caused the slightest ripple in the decades that followed.
The only "feedback" received by the space agency was the unchanging static noise and space radiation.
Therefore, the long silence in the universe led to a consensus throughout the region:
The universe is desolate, and humanity is alone.
Therefore, humanity confidently withdrew its vigilance to the surface and continued to indulge in internal struggles.
But when humanity encounters "mutations" that defy common sense.
Instinctive reactions often involve seeking attributions within the existing boundaries of cognition.
Just before this, the events triggered by Constantine had for the first time shocked all official circles.
It is precisely this kind of deterrence that has led these high-ranking defense officials to attribute more of the underlying mysticism.
But things took an unexpected turn.
Faced with the audio and surveillance footage from the scene, Constantine's conclusion was straightforward:
There was no trace of any evil spirits at the scene, and it had absolutely nothing to do with Hell.
These words completely baffled the group, who could only shift their wary gaze back to the surface.
Meanwhile, Lois's father, Sam, was standing in front of a round table, his hands resting on the edge of a chair.
He looked terrible; he hadn't slept for two days while dealing with this matter.
"Gentlemen... thirty-seven special operations team members! Twelve top scientists!"
An entire rapid reaction force! Wiped out in less than forty-eight hours!
"Can anyone tell me, that madman named Hector, or some weird alien shit...?"
"Could it alter the force field of half the Kansas plains and then smash it down like a hydraulic press?"
Beside the round table.
A dozen or so high-ranking federal officials in military uniforms sat around, whispering among themselves, each with a blank expression on their face.
They even had doubts.
Is this a "new type of weapon" developed by some foreign force or a mysterious organization?
If it were to be brought up with extraterrestrial civilizations they knew nothing about, they would have absolutely no clue whatsoever.