As the words fell, Clark didn't give Lock even a moment to process.
His gaze, which had held a faint trace of warmth, turned ice-cold and razor-sharp, locking onto the three pale-faced figures below.
Those golden eyes, now devoid of the earlier complex emotions, radiated nothing but pure, suffocating frost.
"Jorno. Charles. Lex."
His voice rolled like thunder, carrying an undeniable authority and chilling menace.
"How long do you intend to drag out this pointless charade?"
The question was flat, like stating an unarguable fact, a stark contrast to the strange gentleness he'd shown Lock moments before.
"Using the 'Anchor of Time and Space' to cross cosmic boundaries, disturbing an elder who deserves peace…" The emperor's voice dripped with deep disappointment. "Is this the ultimate form of your so-called 'resistance'? Repeatedly dragging innocent people—my own kin—into your childish, dangerous self-indulgence?"
He didn't raise his voice, his gaze merely sweeping over the trio.
No anger, just judgment.
"Jorno, using Golden Experience like this… your father would be ashamed."
He spoke only to one, as if only one was worthy of his words.
But—
"Clark!" Lex Luthor snapped his head up. Despite his ashen face, a defiant smirk curled his lips. "You really think no one sees through your little game?"
"Do you dare say you had no ulterior motives? That you didn't hope we'd bring Uncle Lock here?"
His voice wasn't loud, but it shattered the intimidating aura Clark had built.
"Every move we've made—hasn't it all been part of your plan?" Lex sneered, staring up at the godlike figure in the air. "You allowed us to bring Uncle Lock here, didn't you?"
"Exactly, Clark," Professor Charles added, his voice strained from mental exertion but clear. "Lex is right."
"Without your permission, Your Majesty, with your powers and surveillance over Earth, we could never have activated the Anchor of Time and Space, let alone brought Mr. Lock here unharmed."
"My psychic barriers might disrupt standard scans, but they've never—could never—block your biofield that envelops the entire planet."
He paused, each word deliberate. "You likely knew the moment Jorno left this universe, didn't you?"
"You were… waiting. Waiting for us to bring him to you."
"…"
Hovering in the air, Clark looked down impassively.
He didn't deny the accusations or show the slightest reaction.
"Look at him, Charles, Jorno," Lex said, his voice slicing through the silence with biting provocation. "In the end, what makes you any different from us, oh benevolent Emperor of Heaven? You're just another schemer, manipulating rules and conflicts to get what you want…"
"A mortal!"
"…"
At that moment, Lock understood everything.
He'd been right.
Jorno and the others hadn't brought him here to be a "mediator." They knew that was impossible.
Their real goal was to use him as the one bait the emperor couldn't ignore—to lure out the reclusive Heavenly Emperor they could never reach otherwise.
And Clark…
Lock looked up at the familiar yet alien nephew. He'd likely sensed Lock's arrival from the start.
Every step of Lock's "smooth" journey, even Glad guiding him to this core base, was probably under Clark's tacit approval—or even guidance.
He wanted Lock to see his "Heaven," to witness the resistance's "futile" efforts.
Then, at this dramatic peak, he descended as the ultimate ruler.
Perhaps even deeper—this resistance's survival and growth to this scale might owe itself to Clark's leniency, or even indulgence.
With the near-divine power he'd displayed, crushing such a group would be effortless.
Everything he did…
Might have been to create a "reasonable" chance to see Lock face-to-face.
Lock's heart churned with mixed emotions—resignation at being used by family, and an indescribable complexity born from Clark.
"Tch, what a melodramatic, awkward emperor," Divine Capital muttered in Lock's ear, the little dragon soul seeing through it all. "All this scheming, all these hoops, just to see you, Dad? And he's putting on this cold, judgmental act?"
"…"
"Dad," Divine Capital's tone turned odd. "Why do I feel like this scary emperor might not be so different from our big, dumb brother deep down? Still so… uh…?"
The dragon's muttering was cut off.
"Lex, I stand above the heavens," Clark said flatly, his voice carrying the weight of absolute superiority. "That is the unbridgeable gap between us, set from the beginning. And you, from then until now…"
"Is that so?" a raspy voice interrupted.
A massive bat-like shadow moved with astonishing agility, silently slipping through a hole in the ceiling.
Whoosh!
Using a grappling hook, it swung to a vantage point on the plaza's edge.
An unremarkable mortal…
Batman!
No words wasted.
His armored arm flicked, launching several small bombs glowing with ominous green light, slicing through the air toward the floating emperor.
"Then tell us yourself, high-and-mighty 'god,'" Batman's voice, filtered through his modulator, dripped with resolve. "Do you bleed?"
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The green kryptonite bombs detonated meters from Clark, unleashing a toxic cloud of green powder and explosive energy, engulfing the golden figure.
Lock's heart clenched.
Kryptonite!
Star Platinum materialized behind him, ready to act.
But—
The next moment made Lock's pupils shrink.
A soft, almost lazy exhale sounded from the heart of the green explosion.
Clark's body seemed wrapped in an invisible force field. The deadly kryptonite dust and energy were blown away like insignificant specks with a single breath, vanishing without a trace.
The emperor showed no pain, no weakness—not even a shift in his floating posture. His dark golden armor gleamed, his crimson cape fluttering as if the lethal attack was a mere illusion.
Clark…
Was completely immune to kryptonite?!
Lock glanced at Jorno, Lex, and the attacking Batman. Their faces were grim but unsurprised, as if they'd expected this outcome.
"Bruce," Clark said, his voice laced with unmasked mockery. "All these years, and no progress."
"Charles!" Batman barked, ignoring the taunt.
"Got it!" The old man in the wheelchair snapped his eyes open, pupils turning pure white. A tangible wave of psychic force surged like a silent tsunami toward the god in the sky.
The unavoidable mental assault should've forced any being to focus—
And it did.
Even Clark's golden figure paused briefly.
Now!
Batman's eyes flashed. This was the fleeting moment he'd waited for.
Without hesitation, he raised his arm, a hidden compartment in his armor snapping open to reveal a tiny crystal glowing with warm golden light.
Gold kryptonite!
His true trump card.
If it could be embedded in Clark's body, it would strip him of all powers drawn from the yellow sun, shifting the tide—
Whoosh!
The gold kryptonite… vanished.
No energy fluctuation, no spatial distortion—it was simply gone.
Batman looked up at Clark.
The glowing gem now rested calmly in Clark's open palm, held carelessly between two fingers.
Clark's golden eyes opened slowly, devoid of emotion, radiating only coldness… and a trace of pity.
"On mental strength, I can't instantly overpower years of Charles' accumulated power," he said matter-of-factly, as if discussing something trivial. "But you all…"
He paused, his tone carrying a faint, mocking condescension, like addressing ignorant children. "When did you start believing you weren't completely enveloped by my biofield, under my absolute control?"
Batman's expression darkened.
He understood instantly.
Clark hadn't even tried to engage Charles mentally. He'd simply wrapped Charles in his biofield, reflecting the professor's massive psychic energy back at him—raw and unfiltered.
"Argh!" Charles let out a pained grunt, his white eyes dimming as his head slumped, unconscious from his own psychic backlash.
"Charles…" Lex glanced at the fainted professor, a sinking feeling in his gut.
Ten years apart, and Clark's power had surpassed their understanding.
Damn it… The intelligence gap was too wide.
"Bruce!" Jorno's eyes snapped to Batman, urgent.
No words needed.
Batman's armor deployed micro-generators from his shoulders and back, forming a temporary energy matrix. A concentrated beam mimicking red sun radiation fired at Clark—another counter based on Kryptonian physiology's weakness.
Red sun radiation!
Vrrrm!
The light, meant to weaken any Kryptonian powered by a yellow sun, hit Clark.
But… nothing.
It was absorbed and refracted by his body like ordinary light, not even making him blink.
His form was utterly immune to this counter.
"…"
Bruce took a deep breath, staring at the man above.
All his standard tactics had failed.
But that was fine.
He was Batman.
He always had a plan.
A deeper compartment in his left arm slid open, revealing an ancient stone pulsing with primal magical energy—a relic pilfered from Doctor Fate's belongings years ago.
Just activate it—
Bang!
The rune stone activated the moment it left the armor, transforming into a warped purple energy arrow, shooting silently at Clark.
A direct attack bypassing the biofield, targeting his essence!
But…
Clark didn't even glance at it. He raised his other hand, a faint golden energy flickering at his fingertip. With a light tap, the powerful magical arrow froze mid-air, then dissolved into basic particles, not even sparking an explosion.
Magic… ineffective.
Only the final plan remained.
"Bruce!" Lex shouted, sensing what was coming. "Don't be reckless!"
Too late.
Batman activated the final device in his armor. Not an attack on Clark, but a desperate attempt to sync with Clark's mental perception at maximum power, flooding it with the rawest human emotions: fear, anger, despair.
Even a moment's lapse would let Bruce turn himself into a ultimate bomb, using all remaining energy for a suicide strike.
His armor, crafted from pure kryptonite, could trigger an extreme black hole with its energy surge, opening a micro-rift to the Phantom Zone.
If he could push the emperor into it…
Even Clark—
He looked up, his resolute gaze piercing through his mask, locking onto the golden god above.
A god?
"I will…" His voice was soft but carried unyielding resolve. "Banish you."
"Is that so?" Clark replied calmly, as if answering a foregone conclusion.
Vrrrm!
The Bat-armor's energy core hit critical overload, ready to unleash—
But in a thousandth of a second, an external, absolute will invaded. All systems were hijacked, energy silenced.
Bang!
A golden blur ignored space itself, teleporting before Bruce. With a barely perceptible twitch of his arm, an incomprehensible, irresistible force slammed into Batman's chest plate—humanity's finest tech.
Crack!
The composite armor shattered like paper, the sound of breaking bones drowned by the impact's roar. The dark figure flew backward, crashing into a distant metal wall.
Boom!
The wall spiderwebbed with cracks.
Batman crumpled, boneless, his iconic mask fracturing and falling away, revealing a bald head ravaged by years of kryptonite exposure.
Bruce Wayne, drained of his last ounce of fight, lay motionless in the rubble.
But…
Batman never had just one plan.
Crack!
A faint, crystal-like snap sounded from Clark's palm.
Yes!
The true final strike, hidden within the ultimate failsafe!
The gold kryptonite had been laced with nanoscale high explosives. Once outside the Bat-armor's stabilizing field, it would detonate instantly.
Bruce never believed physical means could embed kryptonite in Clark's body or that a self-destruct would trap him in a black hole. He'd prepared for failure against "El," the supreme intelligence.
Years of wearing kryptonite-lined armor had eroded his body and mind, leaving him in constant pain and fog.
So his real last gambit was this beyond-rational, high-energy blast embedded in the kryptonite, using the strange energy released from its destruction, amplified by nano-explosives, to disrupt Clark's divine power.
Boom!
Under Jorno, Lex, and Bruce's desperate gazes, the micro-explosion's flames and chaotic golden energy didn't dissipate. They coiled around Clark like a living thing, wrapping his body.
Vrrrm!
A subtle ripple passed through the air.
Clark's mountain-like form swayed faintly—almost imperceptible, but real. The radiant golden light around him flickered briefly, like ripples in a pond.
His molten-gold eyes, burning with constant light, flickered like a faulty filament.
The emperor froze, suspended in place.
It worked?!
This tiny but undeniable change stopped the hearts of the three below.
The god… wasn't invincible!
His power still had rules that could be touched, affected!
"Jorno!" Lex roared with every ounce of strength.
"?!"
Jorno snapped to attention.
Now! The only chance!
"Gold Experience—!!!" Jorno bellowed, pouring all his will and Stand energy into it.
Golden Experience erupted in unprecedented golden light, like a second human-shaped sun. The elegant figure broke free of gravity, soaring at blinding speed, a golden meteor aimed at the god above.
Its right fist clenched, no longer wielding mere life energy but something deeper, more primal—a disturbance targeting the essence of life itself. Blinding gold light boiled on the fist, radiating a terrifying distortion that warped the surrounding light.
It aimed for Clark, stalled by the gold kryptonite's strange energy.
If it connected—if it even grazed him—Jorno could amplify the target's spirit tenfold, a strike at the core of life and mind.
The stronger the target's life force, the more catastrophic Golden Experience's chain reaction.
And Clark's vast, godlike vitality? Unimaginable.
If it doubled, overloaded, boiled over, that immense life energy would rip the "god's" will from his body, plunging him into an uncontrollable mental breakdown.
This was Jorno Kent's all-or-nothing, god-slaying strike, targeting that fleeting flaw.
The golden fist tore through the air, carrying Jorno's every belief and cry, slamming toward Clark.
Bang!
A dull thud.
Everything stopped short of touching Clark's body, crashing into an invisible, insurmountable wall.
The fist's energy didn't even ripple, vanishing silently.
"Golden Experience," Clark's indifferent gaze flicked to the Stand inches away. A trace of nostalgia flashed in his eyes. "Back then, you hid this power from your only family."
His gaze shifted past the Stand to Jorno's pale face below.
"But Jorno," he said, "your uncle won't pause twice for the same trick."
In the frozen stares of all, Clark lowered his head, inhaling deeply, as if savoring a rare delicacy. He drew in the golden dust from the explosion—kryptonite residue and nano-particles.
Then he exhaled a faint golden breath.
"This is…" His low voice echoed in the silent plaza. "Your all-out… final struggle?"
"…"
Bruce's exposed face was etched with incomprehensible shock.
Green kryptonite, useless.
Red sun, useless.
Magic, useless.
Even self-destruction…
He could accept Clark anticipating those.
But gold kryptonite… how could that fail?!
It defied every energy reaction model he'd built on Kryptonian physiology. It was… illogical!
Unless…
His gaze locked on Clark, shifting from shock to disbelief, then to horrified realization.
He and Clark… hadn't seen each other in ten years, had they?
"You… you're not…" Bruce's voice trembled, unaware of its own quaver, as if seeing a future more terrifying than defeat.
"Argh!" An invisible impact hit, and Bruce's eyes rolled back as he passed out cleanly.
"Bruce!" Jorno cried, horrified.
Clark's figure returned to the sky, as if he'd never moved.
His cold gaze turned to Jorno, trembling but still in a fighting stance.
"Jorno," Clark said. "Are you surprised? Even with the toy you made with Golden Experience for Bruce, he still got hurt."
"?!"
Jorno swallowed, stunned that his thoughts were so easily read.
"It's useless, Jorno. Give up," Clark said, his voice devoid of emotion. "You have no reason to fight me. It's just a laughable sense of duty." He paused, his tone carrying a cold verdict. "Without hatred-driven Stand power, you'll never truly harm your enemy."
"No reason?!" Jorno's body shook, Golden Experience flickering behind him. He gritted his teeth against the crushing pressure. "You're wrong, Emperor! I hate you…"
"What I couldn't forgive… was you making me turn on my allies, the people who trusted me!"
Past memories fueled his rage, his voice raw with anger.
"Jorno, stop!" Lex shouted, trying to rein in Jorno's spiraling emotions.
"Stop?" Clark's gaze snapped to Lex, a mocking pity in his golden eyes. "Lex, tell me, has that brain—Earth's smartest—cooked up another brilliant plan? Telling Jorno to hold back, bide his time?"
His voice turned absolute. "Pathetic. Whether you rush in, strategize, or just stand there in despair… your outcome won't change."
"It was decided long ago."
As his words fell, Clark didn't even glance at the trembling Jorno.
But Jorno suddenly felt an unimaginable pressure crushing him from all sides, as if the air had turned to solid steel.
"Argh!" He grunted, his legs buckling under the force, slammed to the ground by an invisible hand, unable to move a finger.
Rip!
His ornate clothes tore under the pressure, revealing vine-like armor beneath, cracking apart.
The same force hit Clark, rebounded by Golden Experience's creations.
But… useless!
The power that crushed Jorno was laughably weak against Clark. He had no intention of fighting Jorno.
His omnipresent biofield, with a single thought, stripped Jorno of all movement, suppressing even Golden Experience.
Immobilized, like a helpless child.
Jorno's desperate gaze turned to Lock.
But the tall figure stood unmoved, seemingly unwilling to interfere in this world's affairs.
Grandpa! Why are you just watching? Even after seeing this world, are you still siding with Uncle Clark?
"Lex, at this point…" Clark's gaze shifted to Lex, the only one left standing. "What are you still afraid of? Didn't you three 'die' that fateful night years ago?"
"…"
"?!"
The words were a key, unlocking a Pandora's box buried deep in Lex's heart.
"Clark, you bastard!" Lex roared, years of suppressed rage breaking free. His usually composed face twisted, veins bulging under his bald scalp.
"You think you're the only god on Earth? You think… this is the end?"
With a desperate, all-or-nothing fury, something exploded in Lex's palm, mangling his arm.
But that wasn't the point.
Vrrrm!!!
A low, earth-shaking buzz roared, like a primordial beast waking from eons of slumber.
The underground chamber shook violently, far worse than when Clark had breached the ceiling—ten, a hundred times stronger.
The ground quaked, the ceiling groaned, dust and debris raining down.
Deep below, in a forbidden zone 400 meters beneath the plaza, amid massive energy conduits and crackling containment rings, a heart-shaped bio-chamber pulsed.
A pair of scarlet eyes, burning with raw, destructive malice, snapped open.
No reason, only a hunger to consume and end all.
BOOM!!!
In Lock's stunned reflection, the alloy floor in the plaza's center buckled and exploded. Tons of metal and debris erupted like a volcano, a massive, grotesque figure emerging.
A twisted, unnatural being, radiating suffocating despair and destruction—a demon from hell's depths.
With a deafening roar, it tore through the earth, soaring with unstoppable ferocity.
Its hideous body, bristling with bone spikes and bulging muscles, existed solely for annihilation.
Lock stared, mind blank, shocked by the horrifying sight. His body instinctively stepped forward, as if to confirm it wasn't an illusion.
This world's Lex was insane…
He'd created Doomsday?!
But facing this monstrous creation, Clark merely floated, his golden eyes unwavering, scanning the roaring beast like a shoddy toy. "A newborn infant," he said, his voice calm as still water.
Before the words faded, he vanished.
He reappeared before Doomsday, his small fist swinging casually.
Bang!!!
A bone-rattling thud exploded. Doomsday's diamond-hard chest caved in with a clear fist mark.
Its massive body flew back, crashing into a distant alloy wall, embedded deep like a crucified figure, kicking up dust and debris.
"ROAR!!!" A pained, furious bellow.
Doomsday tore free, its chest wound writhing, muscles regenerating, bone spikes reforming at visible speed. It lunged at Clark again, stronger, faster.
But—
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Each of Clark's flashes brought a deceptively light strike, carrying mountain-shattering force. Doomsday became a human punching bag.
It grew stronger, healed faster, but…
A flicker of fear crept into its scarlet eyes, alongside the rage and madness.
Doomsday, born for destruction, was afraid.
Its attacks lost their recklessness, trying to dodge Clark's uncatchable figure.
Lock exhaled slightly. This Doomsday wasn't the immortal terror from his world that could kill Superman. It was a powerful but unstable replica, still retaining… consciousness?
"Lex," Clark said, casually hammering Doomsday back into the ground with a fist, his voice unchanged. "This is your final card? All your effort, and you made this… weak creature?"
"I gave you so much time, and you still disappoint me."
"…"
"Clark," Lex emerged from cover, pushing the unconscious Charles. After watching Doomsday's thrashing, his earlier hysteria was gone, replaced by eerie calm. He admitted his creation's failure. "You're right."
"It's a flaw in my tech. I'll fix it eventually."
"But I'm human. I couldn't resist your taunts."
His voice carried odd self-mockery. "I couldn't fully erase the original's weak consciousness from this theoretically perfect killing machine. It drags down its invincible body, its destructive instinct."
"So…" He turned to Jorno, who'd struggled to his feet, his tone grave. "For our old goals, for everything he's destroyed… use Golden Experience on it."
"The final choice is yours."
"?" Lock's mind flashed a giant question mark.
What was Lex planning?!
"Jorno, stop," Clark said, his steady voice carrying absolute authority. "Don't do something you'll regret."
"Don't regret…"
Those chilling words, echoing years past, erased Jorno's last hesitation, replaced by all-or-nothing resolve.
"ROAR!!!" Doomsday's earth-shattering bellow rang out, its massive claw, brimming with pure malice, slashing at Jorno.
But Golden Experience's fist glowed with burning gold light.
"MUDA!!!"
The fist aimed to meet Doomsday head-on.
"Star Platinum: The World!"
Vrrrm!!!
BOOM!!!
Smoke filled the air.
"Grandpa…" Jorno's expected fate—being torn apart or Doomsday's mind breaking—didn't happen.
At the last second, a black figure teleported in front of him.
Lock stood firm, Star Platinum blocking the lethal strike. Its arms held Doomsday's claw steady, the ground cracking beneath, but Lock didn't budge.
"We'll talk about you tricking me later," Lock said, his voice low with a trace of weight, not turning back. "Do you know what you were about to unleash, Jorno?" Feeling the claw's growing force, he sighed. "That's the end of all things—"
He meant to say Doomsday.
But—
Zzzzt!!!
Two searing, star-core-hot beams of heat vision shot from the sky—not from Lock, but from Clark.
They struck Doomsday with pinpoint accuracy.
"?!"
In Lock's stunned gaze, this heat vision was different.
Doomsday let out an agonized scream. Its regenerating, evolving body began to break down at the molecular level, melting like ice under the sun.
It struggled, tried to escape, to evolve resistance, but the beams, imbued with absolute will, locked onto its essence. No matter how it dodged or burrowed, the beams obliterated all obstacles, relentlessly dissolving its collapsing form.
Decompose! Annihilate! Erase!
Under shocked, disbelieving stares, the invincible, infinitely evolving Doomsday shrank, faded, and vanished entirely.
No trace, no ash.
Was that… heat vision?
Lock stared at the figure in the sky, his heart surging with unprecedented awe.