What's wrong with Superman's son wanting to be Superman?

Page 438

Who would have thought.

At this moment, such a bewildered and helpless look appeared on the face of another "self." Injustice Superman looked at Clark Kent, as if he were any pitiful person who had asked Superman for help.

"..."

this moment.

It wasn't just Clark Kent who didn't know how to comfort the other party; even Ian had exhausted his entire vocabulary of psychological manipulation techniques. Unjust Superman still couldn't truly realize that Ian was offering a form of help.

Clark felt uneasy under that gaze.

Just as Clark was about to say something to break the suffocating atmosphere, Injustice Superman's chapped lips trembled very slightly, emitting an extremely hoarse sound like rusty gears grinding together: "I think I finally understand something."

Clark instinctively held his breath and listened intently.

Injustice Superman's eyes slowly rolled, his incredibly complex gaze shifting with difficulty from Clark's face to Ian, who was also being held up and trying to use his superhuman speed to grab the surrounding streaks of light. His eyes were filled with indescribable shock, lingering fear, and a hint of... eerie awe.

“I finally understand why you are so powerful.” Injustice Superman continued to speak in that broken tone, devoid of all his energy.

His gaze was fixed on Ian, and the meaning of his words was self-evident—to survive in this universe and successfully raise such an unpredictable "dirty thing" requires mental resilience, survival skills, and combat prowess far exceeding any battle against Doomsday or Darkseid.

This is not a power on the same level! It is a kind of resilience that transcends the laws of physics, penetrates to the level of the soul, and can be called a miracle!

Clark Kent of this universe should be invincible.

otherwise.

That's truly a no-pay-to-play learning experience!

"Forehead……"

An extremely unnatural embarrassment flashed across the face of the god of the human realm in this universe. He forced a couple of dry laughs, his voice sounding somewhat unsteady.

“Heh…hehe…this…um…when we get back, I’ll have Bruce give you a full physical exam. He has all the equipment, he can definitely…uh…help you figure out the situation.” Clark tried to steer the conversation toward a seemingly scientific and rigorous direction to cover up the absurdity and bizarreness surging through his mind.

Upon hearing this, Injustice did not respond to the suggestion about a physical examination. He simply gave Clark another slow, profound look.

His eyes seemed to say, "Examination? Do you think that's the important thing? Do you think the core problem with my current condition can be detected by medical equipment?"

That one glance contained so much information.

Silence descended once more, broken only by the deafening roar of the atmosphere being torn apart.

After a long time.

Just as the azure blue of the Earth had filled the entire field of vision, Injustice spoke again. His voice was still hoarse, but it carried a different meaning, a calmness that was almost resigned to fate.

“You didn’t really defeat him, that golden one…you and me.” Injustice Superman continued, his gaze fixed on the deep universe, as if he could see through space to the golden Superman who had escaped earlier.

"He has only retreated temporarily. He will come back... to settle the score with you. To prove his 'perfection,' or... simply to put an end to you, the greatest 'abnormality.'"

"The Supreme Alliance leader's brainwashing ability over all Clarkes is virtually irresistible." This statement already contained the information, and Injustice Superman dared not utter that name.

His words struck Clark like a cold stone. It wasn't a threat, but a precise judgment from an individual with the same origins, possessing the same superhuman intelligence and obsession.

"Yes."

Clark also understands "himself".

That battle was far from over.

“You need to help us understand what you call the Supreme Alliance.” Clark stared at the Injustice Superman captured by Ian, his voice not one of inquiry but of firmness.

Injustice Superman remained silent.

I simply looked up at the starry sky.

When Superman brought Ian to Earth.

His superhuman vision allowed him to detect something unusual.

Some corner.

There were familiar shadows flowing through him.

Golden Superman hovered in absolute shadow, a place that seemed to be a dead node in the universe, where even the faintest photons were greedily devoured. The dazzling golden light around him, enough to illuminate galaxies, had completely subsided, clinging to his skin and forming a thin but tough barrier of idealism, stubbornly resisting the all-pervasive shadow encroachment and the incessant, maddening whispers.

That was a murmured poem of wild laughter.

Before him, the densest shadow churned and stretched violently like boiling asphalt, eventually coalescing into a terrifying face that twisted and contorted without a fixed shape. The face had no features, only countless tiny, writhing dark tentacles, and a huge, gaping maw that opened and closed, emitting a silent, maniacal laugh.

The scene was incredibly bizarre; the maniacal laughter didn't travel through the air, but exploded directly in the deepest part of his mind, like ten thousand rusty needles scraping at his soul.

“Something’s wrong with the Superman in this universe. He might have already defected to some other universe.” Golden Superman’s opinion was similar to Darkseid’s. He didn’t know who he was talking to, and he didn’t respond. Instead, shadows rolled and a huge metal box was delivered to him.

The box has a strange shape and is made of neither gold nor iron. Its surface is covered with constantly changing and incomprehensible geometric patterns that seem to be altering the surrounding space and logical concepts on their own.

"You want me to use the power of the outer universe to fight against the power of the outer universe?" Golden Superman's brows furrowed tightly, his brilliant gaze instantly piercing through the conceptual metal shell.

He saw what was inside the box.

It did not belong to any universe it was aware of, and the aura of an outer universe was unusually strong.

Chapter 189 Ancient Emperor! King of Darkness!

The Bat of Laughter dropped equipment.

The metal box looked incredibly sinister; its mere presence caused ripples to appear around the golden superhero's protective barrier, as if he had encountered a natural enemy.

"You're asking me to use something from another universe to fight against another universe? Are you sure this won't cause even bigger problems?" Golden Superman turned to look at the will in the shadows.

The maniacal laughter continued.

The distorted, shadowy face remained silent.

The silent, maniacal laughter grew even more unrestrained, with more dark tentacles wrapping around the metal box, pushing it forward a little further, almost touching the chest of the Golden Superman.

The laughter grew louder and louder, almost tearing his sanity apart. Golden Superman closed his eyes, cold sweat beading on his forehead—Kryptonians shouldn't sweat, but this sweat was purely a product of mental stress.

At the same time, an even larger and more filthy dark energy began to press in on the Golden Superman from all directions, and the volume of his frantic voice increased sharply.

It was as if billions of vengeful spirits were screaming in his mind, pressuring him, tempting him.

"What the hell is this?"

Golden Superman's heart began to waver silently once again.

He knew he only had two choices.

Either cling to that potentially tainted "perfection," gradually being assimilated and devoured by this shadow under the pressure from both inside and outside, or open the box, embrace this all-powerful force from "outside," and confront that superhero of this universe who wields the Black Death Sword and is also behaving very "abnormally."

"..."

All Superman is always prone to indecisiveness.

Just like all Flashes like to be a step behind.

"Whatever it is, it's far too evil." Golden Superman Kal-El's gaze, like the most sophisticated scanner, had already pierced through the conceptual metal barrier and clearly seen the contents of the box.

Very normal.

Golden Superman is a mid-to-high-level Superman in the DC Universe.

Although he hasn't reached the level of a flagship superhero or a super-flagship superhero, and can't name his organs things like "Jesus' Heart" or "Kunpeng Sixteen-Cylinder Composite Kidney," he is still ultimately a superhero of the idealistic level, with super vision easily seeing through a metal box.

Of course, "seeing clearly" and "understanding" are two different things. The form of that thing and the enormous, ancient, dark, and even terrifying aura he sensed formed an absurd contrast, and this sense of contradiction caused his brilliant idealistic core to fluctuate violently, as if a precision instrument had been injected with the wrong thing.

That would tarnish the sun in his heart, and Golden Superman was certain of that.

Therefore.

He was genuinely resistant, hovering in place, his bright gaze shifting back and forth between the ominous metal box and the endless, malevolent darkness surrounding him.

Golden Superman knew that the darkness was caused by that thing, and that if he touched that thing, the sun in his heart might be turned into a black sun.

Hesitation, like cold cosmic dust, permeated his heart. Using this power of unknown origin and essence ran counter to his pursuit of absolute purity and idealistic "justice."

This in itself is a form of depravity, a betrayal of one's own beliefs.

"I can't do that. Just because the Superman of this universe has fallen doesn't mean I should fight against fall with fall." Just when Golden Superman was hesitating but had already begun to prepare to give up.

The face that emerged from the shadows moved its mouth a few times.

The mad babbling began to appear in my ears, and the silent laughter emanating from the twisted shadow suddenly changed into a more eerie and penetrating whisper.

Shadows rolled and whispers screech. It was no longer just noise, but a persuasive chain of seductive logic that directly attacked the weakest point of the Golden Superman's will.

No one knew what the voice said except for Golden Superman himself. The whispered laughter was like venom, seeping into every crevice of his mind.

Then came a long pause, as if time itself had frozen. Finally, the brilliant but no longer absolutely pure light in Golden Superman's eyes suddenly fixed.

Sure enough, Batman knows how to seduce Superman.

The DC universe has always been this way.

He slowly and heavily extended his hand, which had once shone with endless brilliance, and placed it on the cold lid of the box, which was constantly twisting geometric patterns.

"For... ultimate order and redemption."

Golden Superman seemed to be trying to convince himself, his voice extremely dry.

The lid slid open silently. There was no expected burst of energy, no strange phenomena, only a more solid and unsettling sense of "abnormality" spreading out.

The reflection in the Golden Superman's pupils reveals that the box is lined with soft, dark velvet that absorbs all light. And lying quietly on that velvet is something.

Something very special.

A device that even the Golden Superman couldn't understand.

It's like a toy.

At least at first glance, it looks exactly like a cheap plastic toy from some children's show. The entire device is no bigger than a mobile phone, and its entire body is an ominous, matte black that seems to absorb souls. Its design is simple and even somewhat rustic, with a dark red oval crystal in the center that looks like a drop of congealed blood.

It emitted no powerful energy fluctuations and was as quiet as a dead object, forming an extreme and chilling contrast with the ancient, dark, and terrifying outer box.

"Huhuhu~"

Golden Superman's breathing quickened and then paused slightly. His indestructible hand, capable of holding up stars, hovered above the toy, trembling slightly as he hesitated to bring it down.

There was nothing he could do; his super vision, super perception, and even his superhuman abilities were all giving him frantic warnings, telling him that the thing's true nature was far more harmful than it appeared.

It is a silent, highly concentrated “darkness” belonging to another cosmic system, an “evil” concept that is completely different from any power he knows.

Perhaps only the Bat that laughs knows why it appeared here, and why it was stuffed into this box and delivered to the Golden Superman like an ordinary package.

His whispers once again echoed in Golden Superman's ears.