"And then the world knew true silence. Not the silence of peace… but the silence of surrender."
Earth 1710.
The Beginning of the End.
It wasn't a sudden invasion. It wasn't a foretold war. It began with a whisper, hidden among the data.
Lines of alien code infiltrated Earth's satellites. Encrypted transmissions on frequencies not even the League recognized.
Simultaneous power outages in thirty cities.
Then… silence.
And then, he came.
Brainiac.
Not in ships. Not in robots.
But like a virus.
A concept.
An idea that refused to die.
He had been destroyed countless times.
By Superman. By Luthor. By the Legion itself.
But this time, he learned.
"Just as you adapt... so do I."
Its fragments had wandered the vastness of the cosmos after the last defeat.
And one of them, small, subtle, landed on Earth.
More specifically…
in Superman.
----
The Possession.
Clark Kent was the first to notice.
A constant headache. Nightmares with voices in extinct languages.
He would stop in the middle of patrols, as if listening to invisible echoes.
Bruce was the second.
He detected fluctuations in Clark's heartbeat pattern.
Moments when the Kryptonian disappeared from the radar for milliseconds.
But it was Diana who saw it happen.
During a joint mission to Mars, Clark hesitated.
He stood still, staring into space.
And then… he changed.
His eyes glowed purple.
His hands rose to the sky.
And he said, in a voice that was not his:
"This body is ideal.
This mind, vast.
This planet… ready."
Brainiac didn't just hack Superman.
He merged with him.
It was not an immediate total control.
Clark fought. For days, for weeks.
But every day, he lost more ground.
Every night, his screams echoed across the skies of Smallville.
Until… he disappeared.
Clark Kent has disappeared.
And Brainiac was born again.
It was the day the sun died.
-----
The War.
The first city to fall was Seoul.
Then Berlin.
The robots came from underground.
Each with Kryptonian traits, powered by replicas of the Phantom Zone, created by an intelligence that now thought with the mind of the Man of Steel.
The League's Watchtower was destroyed in the first week. The Watchtower imploded over the Pacific, taking John Constantine, Vixen, and Firestorm with it.
The US government partially collapsed after the surrender of its bases in Nevada.
Lex Luthor, ironically, was one of the few humans to resist, using his fortune to arm global resistance groups.
But it was Gotham that became the center of the counteroffensive.
Bruce took the reins.
He set up command posts underground.
The reactivation of the Brother Eye Project was blocked by himself, fearing repeating the mistakes of the past.
Metropolis, now under Brainiac's rule, has become a fortress.
A distorted, reprogrammed city, where every movement was monitored.
Where children grew up with cameras in their cribs.
Clark was there. Trapped.
Or dead.
Or both.
----
The Counterplan.
For seven months, Bruce barely slept.
He was torn between taking care of Gotham, now the target of nightly attacks by Kryptonian drones, and preparing the greatest act of his life: destroying Superman.
Not the man.
But the entity that used his body as a throne.
Each night, the Batfamily risked their lives to rescue civilians, extract data, steal LexCorp technology, or protect injured heroes.
A devastated Supergirl joined Bruce.
Krypto led ground combat. Steel created weapons that fused magic with science. Zatanna offered what remained of the mystical side.
But everyone knew:
The only one who could face Brainiac…
Was The Batman.
And so, the Armored Suit XK-V was born, also called by Alfred, in funereal tones, as:
"The Coffin of Krypton."
Forged from raw kryptonite, red solar radiation, Daxamite-technology circuitry, and an adaptive core filled with Red Tornado dimensional energy, the armor was made for a single purpose:
Take Bruce to Brainiac's heart.
And not come back.
----
The Last Call.
The world was on the ropes.
The League?
Fragmented.
Hope?
Obscured.
Superman?
Non-existent.
And Bruce Wayne knew there were no more plan Bs.
No time for second attempts.
No room for error.
It was all or nothing.
Deep down, he knew.
That wasn't a mission.
It was a final confession.
And so, with his body exhausted, his mind sharp as ever, and a legacy behind him…
…he prepared to face the only man he considered a brother.
Even if that brother was now the monster at the end of the tunnel.
"I lived my life among shadows.
But if this is my last night…
…then let the world know:
even shadows can bleed light."
INTERLUDE — Echoes of War.
"Not every war starts with gunfire.
Sometimes it starts with silence.
A silence so deep it swallows the names of those who swore to protect the world."
The Death of Hal Jordan.
Location: Earth orbit, Green Troop station.
Date: Three months after possession
Hal Jordan was the first senior member of the League to fall.
The Green Lantern Corps, alerted by nearby sectors, attempted to establish contact. Hal, with his usual arrogance, went alone to Metropolis to investigate signs of energy manipulation.
He found Clark.
Or what was left of it.
The dialogue was brief.
"Clark… is that you?"
"You think too small, lantern. I am the beginning of something perfect."
"I won't let you go through with this."
"You will have no choice."
Hal's ring disintegrated mid-sentence.
His body was found in free fall, out of orbit, surrounded by a decaying energy bubble, the ring's last attempt to protect him. The bubble failed 80 km from the surface.
The crater that remained in North Dakota was named by the resistance as:
"The Tomb of Light."
-----
The Disappearance of Diana.
Location: Themyscira Island
Date: Fifth month of the war
Brainiac did not attack directly.
He waited.
He watched.
That's why Diana fell.
The Amazons received coded transmissions, pleading for help.
A familiar voice: Donna Troy.
But Donna had already died in Metropolis, weeks before, while trying to free metahuman prisoners.
Diana hesitated.
She knew it could be a trap.
But She also knew: even if there was only 1% chance left…
She went.
The latest images captured by hidden satellites showed Diana fighting alone against seven Kryptonian robots enhanced with sorcery stolen from the Tower of Fate.
She won.
But she didn't come back.
Whether she is dead, captured, or imprisoned in another dimension, no one knows.
Only the sword remained, given to Batgirl by one of the last surviving Amazons.
---
The Last League Meeting.
Location: Refuge Beneath Mount Doomsday, Arizona
Date: Sixth month of the war.
Five heroes.
What was left of the League.
— Bruce Wayne
— Barry Allen
— J'onn J'onzz
— Zatanna
— Supergirl
Lex Luthor participated remotely.
Reluctant, cynical, but collaborative.
The war had forced the impossible.
Bruce presented the plan:
An armor that could contain Brainiac.
A bomb made from red sun radiation and gold kryptonite.
A forced extraction of the virus.
A chance, small, to erase what had been Clark.
Supergirl was against it.
"You don't understand! He's still there! I feel it!"
Bruce stared at her with empty eyes.
"I'm sorry, Kara. But you're wrong. And this plan is the only thing we have."
Zatanna cried.
Barry agreed.
But he fell silent afterwards.
J'onn didn't show up for the next meeting.
Its signal was never detected again.
---
The End of Blüdhaven.
Local: Blüdhaven
Date: Seventh month of the war
The city became a testing ground.
Brainiac sent 10 surveillance units.
30 hours later, he sent 100.
Within a week, every street was covered in clouds of microscopic drones, which reprogrammed the city's architecture, transforming everything from concrete to air into sentient machinery.
Dick Grayson led the evacuation.
But there was no time.
40 thousand dead.
80 thousand missing.
When Dick woke up days later, he was in Gotham.
Jason brought him in unconscious.
Since then, he hasn't smiled anymore.
And he no longer uses the name Nightwing.
Just... Grayson.
-----
The Last Days Before the End.
Supergirl and Krypto patrolled Metropolis in silence.
The sky had no more visible stars.
Not by clouds.
But because Brainiac hid them, literally, with a visual distortion field.
Lex Luthor, in his records, said:
"He wants to rewrite perception. If we can't see the sky, we can't dream."
The resistance took refuge under sewers, old subways, fragments of destroyed Watchtower stations.
Bruce divided his time between combat training, meticulous calculations, and recording.
Recordings for Dick, Tim, Jason… and even Selina, missing since the Tokyo attack.
Every word was like a tombstone.
He knew.
Everyone knew.
The end was near.
---
And then, night came.
The last night.
The moment when everything would be decided.
A man against a possessed god.
A city against a living machine.
And a sacrifice against destiny itself.
-----
The Last Night of the Knight.
The Weight of the Plan.
Gotham, 2:37 AM – Batfamily Underground Base.
The whisper of rain echoed through the dark tunnels of the cursed city. Above, Gotham slept restlessly, surrounded by surveillance drones, distant sirens, and the constant shadow of war.
Underground, where the concrete held centuries of fear, a man prepared for the end.
Bruce Wayne adjusted the final mechanisms of his armor. More than a suit, it was a sarcophagus, his testament, his cross.
The metal glowed dark green, as if kryptonite itself had come to life. Lines of energy pulsed through his chest, shoulders, and arms, converging on a core housed in his spine: the red solar reactor.
"Propulsion system stabilized. Internal armor withstands up to 60 seconds of direct combat with maximum eye heat."
Barbara said from the terminal. Her voice wavered between technical and fearful.
"It won't last longer than that."
Bruce replied, without looking up.
"But it will be enough."
Behind him, the bat family gathered.
Dick, now unshaven, his gaze filled with a weight not even the Titans knew.
Tim, ever meticulous, watched Barbara's calculations with a frown.
Jason, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, as if trying to hide his fear under a layer of anger.
Cassandra, silent, but with tears in her eyes. She understood. She always understood.
And Barbara, standing beside Bruce, the last line between him and the approaching abyss.
"You know the protocol. If I fail..."
"You will not fail."
Dick cut.
"If I fail."
Bruce repeated firmly.
"You must ensure that Metropolis does not fall. That the legacy... that something survives this."
Jason kicked a chair.
"Damn it, Bruce! Always this damn plan where you die!"
Bruce turned. For the first time in weeks, he looked at each of them in turn.
"Because it's the only plan that will work."
Silence. Just the sound of machinery and distant thunder over Gotham.
He then walked up to each of them. One by one.
To Dick:
— "You were the best of us. Keep being that way. They'll need a light when everything goes dark."
To Tim:
— "The most brilliant mind I've ever seen. The world can still be saved with logic, compassion, and strategy. Never doubt that."
To Cassandra:
— "You are more than a weapon. You are a beacon for those who live in silence."
To Jason:
Bruce hesitated. But then he placed a hand on his rebellious son's shoulder.
— "I failed you. But you still have time to be better than I ever was."
To Barbara:
He didn't say anything. He just stared at her.
And she responded with a shaky nod.
The silence said it all.
"Time to go."
Bruce said.
----
The Fall of the Heavens.
Metropolis – 6:42 a.m.
The sky was gray. Not from clouds, but from smoke and debris.
The dream city was now a crumbling fortress. LexCorp towers reconfigured with alien technology, sentry ships hovered like vultures, and at the center, Brainiac's new throne: the Daily Planet, now a black steel dome.
Heroes from all corners gathered. Kara Zor-El, in Kryptonian war armor. Barry, vibrating in time warps, directing evacuations. John Stewart, flanked by a wall of constructs. Shazam. Zatanna. Black Canary. Steel. Green Arrow. Krypto.
It was the last effort. The last gasp of resistance.
"Are you sure about this?"
Kara asked, landing next to Bruce, who was now floating with his armor activated.
"No. But it's the only chance we have to beat Brainiac."
She looked inside the helmet, expecting to see some hesitation.
She only saw a man who had already made peace with the end.
"Good luck, Bruce."
"For all of us."
----
Total war.
The sky exploded with light.
Colossal robots, enhanced with Kryptonian DNA, advanced on the heroes' lines.
Supergirl cut through a fleet like a living spear.
Steel and Shazam made their way between the towers.
Barry sabotaged systems at nearly invisible speeds.
Oliver Queen led the vanguard, his arrows slicing through the air.
And then… he appeared.
Superman. Or what was left of him.
The distorted emblem. The eyes alight with the light of a thousand stolen civilizations. The voice modified by Brainiac's core.
"Bruce Wayne. Do you really think you can stop me?"
"No. But I must stop you."
And the clash began.
Electric shocks that destroyed city blocks. Muffled screams amid the explosions.
The armor held. For a while.
Each punch Clark threw cracked the hull.
Each blow from Bruce drew blood and circuits from the invader.
But Brainiac had adapted. Kryptonite no longer had its deadly effect. The red solar radiation was dissipated by internal shields.
The armor wouldn't hold much more.
Bruce looked up.
To the sky.
Into space.
"Indeed. No escape."
"You cannot win, human."
Said Brainiac.
Bruce grabbed the enemy with his armor's reinforced grappling hook and activated the thrusters.
"I didn't come to win."
And he went up.
The atmosphere burned. Brainiac struggled to break free.
But Bruce wouldn't let go.
Not for a second.
Above the Earth, between the void and the glow of the distant sun…
…the armor jammed.
The final protocols have been activated.
"Project Prometheus: Activated."
Inside the suit, Bruce Wayne's last record was sent to the Batcave.
"If you're watching this, I didn't come back. And maybe no one will. But I had to try. Because if there's a chance to save what we are… even a tiny chance… then it's worth the sacrifice."
He glared at Brainiac.
"Goodbye, Clark. Forgive me."
Explosion.
Light.
Silence.
Darkness.
----
Echoes.
Weeks Later.
The skies over Metropolis were still gray.
A monument had been erected. Two statues.
Superman and Batman. Side by side.
But there were no celebrations.
There was no joy.
The remaining heroes were silent.
Supergirl took on her cousin's legacy, but it felt empty.
Dick led tactical actions in Gotham and the world. However, the meaning of it all seemed lost.
And the world… was no longer the same.
The loss of Clark and Bruce had shattered hope.
Without them, alliances began to crumble.
Governments questioned the heroes.
People feared new threats.
New signs of war.
And in a corner of the universe…
…Brainiac had not been completely destroyed.
A fragment resisted.
Crashed on a forgotten planet.
Sowing something new.
Something worse.
----
The Lost Legacy.
At the top of Titans Tower, Dick Grayson wrote:
"Bruce taught me that we don't need powers to be heroes. That fear can be used to protect, not destroy. Clark taught me that hope is the most powerful force in the universe. And now... with them both dead, all I can do is try to carry on. But sometimes, alone at night, I wonder...
If this is still the age of heroes…
…or if we have already lived through the twilight of all of them."
The last page of the diary closes.
Thunder sounds in the distance.
And the world keeps turning…
…afraid of what comes next.
----
And that's how it happened...
That's how…
Hope died.
In an unknown place…
In Bruce's vision, suddenly, everything went white. Sensations beyond his being took over him; somehow, he felt his body again.
But the question was, how?
Bruce felt the pain go away. He was standing, wearing his classic Batman costume, with the emblem stark upon his chest.
The surroundings were vast, ethereal. A void that was not empty, but instead alive with a dim, shifting glow, as if the very concept of existence pulsed around him. A place beyond space and time, where thoughts and memories echoed faintly.
Bruce remained silent for a few moments, taking in every detail of the impossible landscape that surrounded him.
A whisper of light formed before him. Not sound, not matter, but a presence. A being that carried the brilliance of creation within its essence.
And then, he emerged.
Floating gently above the ground, enveloped by an aura that oscillated between the purest white and subtle shades of every color on the emotional spectrum.
Hal Jordan.
But not the Hal Bruce knew.
That was... another one.
His uniform was distinctive, gleaming white with silver accents and a symbol that transcended that of the Corps. He was more than a Green Lantern. More than a specter.
He was a White Lantern.
The manifestation of life in its purest form.
"You were always hard to surprise, Bruce."
Hal said with a slight smile. His voice sounded as if it came from within existence itself.
"But I think I got it this time."
Bruce didn't respond immediately. He watched his friend, or whoever he was, with the same calculating gaze as always.
"Hal…?"
"Yes. And no. Let's just say I'm… all the possibilities of Hal Jordan, fused together at the pinnacle of light."
Bruce narrowed his eyes.
"Then I'm dead."
Hal landed, his feet touching the ground soundlessly.
"Not exactly. You crossed a threshold. But this…"
He opened his arms, indicating the ethereal space
"…is a point between endings and beginnings."
Bruce looked around.
"What is this place?"
"The Empty Cosmos. The echo between what was and what could be. A point of convergence."
Hal walked beside Bruce.
"Neither Heaven nor Hell. Neither reincarnation nor oblivion. Here, mistakes can still be made right... if there is purpose."
Bruce frowned.
"And what would be my purpose here?"
Hal stared at him, his eyes shining like constellations.
"You died too soon. The fate of your world was cut short. There are forces... beyond Brainiac... that await you. Forgotten entities, dormant in the depths of Creation, awakening in the vacuum left by Superman's fall... and yours."
Bruce crossed his arms. The old instinct to anticipate threats kicked in.
"What are you talking about?"
Hal approached.
The light around him rippled, revealing fragments of visions, distorted timelines, apocalyptic versions of familiar heroes, ruins where hope once stood. Earth dominated not by Brainiac… but by something even older.
Something that fed on the absence of heroes.
"The universe misses its guardians. And the shadows smell a vulnerable world. You sacrificed everything, Bruce. But the sacrifice wasn't the end. It was the calling."
"Calling for what?"
Bruce's voice was deep, but there was a tremor in it. Not of fear, but of foreboding.
Hal extended his hand. A gentle gesture, unusual for two soldiers accustomed to war.
"Come. They're waiting."
Bruce hesitated. But, as always, he pressed on.
As soon as it touched Hal's hand, the world shattered into fragments of light. The transition was instantaneous.
Suddenly, they found themselves in a monumental corridor, whose walls were made of crystallized time, as if every second of existence were imprinted on their surfaces. At the end of the corridor, a colossal door, made of matter and antimatter, vibrating with the energy of eons.
Hal stopped and looked at Bruce.
"Finally, we are all reunited."
Bruce raised an eyebrow.
"All?"
Hal smiled.
But he didn't answer.
He simply pushed gently on the double doors.
They opened with a sound that wasn't a sound, but a resonance deep within his soul.
Light emerged from within.
Light… and voices.
Family fragments.
Whispers of names, of ideas, of crossed destinies.
Bruce narrowed his eyes and stepped forward, entering the room beside Hal.
And the door closed.
TO BE CONTINUED...