The Super Skrulls fell, one by one.
The Captain America copy was crushed in Superman's grip—his neck squeezed down to the thickness of a baby's arm before he suffocated.
Hawkeye, Natasha, and Sandman—the unlucky trio—were vaporized in an instant by Superman's heat vision.
Dr. Octopus, Killian, Electro, the Fantastic Four… None of them lasted more than a heartbeat. Superman barely acknowledged them before striking them down.
They all fell.
In New York, a wave of cheers erupted.
There was no doubt—Superman had conquered them.
Absolute power. Unmatched strength. A force beyond comprehension.
And yet… many felt a deep chill.
Especially the heroes watching from below.
For those whose abilities had been copied, it was one thing to see imitations of themselves fall. But when those imitations—nearly equal in power—were annihilated so effortlessly, they found themselves looking at Superman with newfound dread.
On a nearby rooftop, the surviving Justice League members stood in stunned silence.
They exchanged glances.
A mixture of awe and fear reflected in their eyes.
Stark Tower – Penthouse
Tony stood in front of the glass window, watching the battle in the sky.
Silent.
In his ear, Jarvis fed him constant updates—data collected from sensors throughout the city, real-time calculations of Superman's speed, strength, energy output.
Numbers flashed across the screen.
Numbers that shouldn't be possible.
Tony's fingers clenched slightly.
"How does this compare?" he murmured.
The numbers made his scalp prickle. He couldn't stop the thought forming in his mind— The Justice League has Superman.
What does my new team have?
Do we even compare?
One question after another surged through him.
His eyes remained fixed on the figure in the sky—a man stronger than gods—and for the first time in a long time, Tony Stark felt something foreign creeping into his mind.
Doubt.
The White House.
In the Oval Office, the President watched in silence.
On one hand, he marveled at Superman's power.
On the other, he felt an undeniable fear.
Superman.
The God of the World.
Now that he had stepped into the public eye, a question had to be answered.
Who truly rules this planet?
Is it man… or is it God?
This was the very issue raised in Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, the film directed by Anton.
When power surpasses all limits—when the world's trust in Superman eclipses every government, every authority—who truly holds the reins of power?
If it is humanity, by what right can they demand obedience from a being who could shatter them with a thought?
But if it is Superman… then for those who refuse to bow, what chance do they have?
What could possibly stop him?
The President's lips parted. A single word escaped.
"Kryptonite…"
His eyes sharpened.
Turning abruptly, he looked at the intelligence officers surrounding him.
"Listen to me—find it. Now."
His voice was firm, unwavering.
"Search Kansas. Search the coasts. Check every meteorite that's fallen into the sea or the ground. I want Kryptonite found immediately."
The agents hesitated only for a moment before nodding.
"Understood."
The shock had yet to fade from their faces, but none of them were surprised by the order.
And as if by some unspoken agreement, across every high-level meeting—every government, every intelligence agency—similar orders were being issued.
Because no matter how the world saw him, one thing had become undeniable.
Superman was no longer just a hero.
He was a question.
A challenge.
A force that could change the fate of the world.
And now, the world had to decide.
Would they worship him?
Or would they find a way to kill him?
"Kryptonite!"
"Batman never does anything meaningless. Even if we don't know for sure if kryptonite exists… Superman must have a weakness."
"We need to mobilize all our resources. We have to find it."
New York City
The battlefield near the spaceship
Superman had slaughtered nearly all of Carter's forces.
Now, only a handful of trembling Super Skrulls remained, huddling near Carter in fear, their faces pale and stricken.
Useless.
Carter clenched his fists, his sharp gaze sweeping over his remaining subordinates, disgust evident in his expression.
Pathetic.
Their failure was unacceptable. If the Skrull race weren't already limited in talent, he would have struck them down himself for their cowardice.
"Get back to the spaceship," he ordered, his voice low and cold.
"We… we can't."
One of the surviving Skrulls shook his head, his voice bitter.
"The ship's been compromised. Someone infiltrated it… we've lost control."
"If that hadn't happened—"
The Skrull's voice broke as despair overtook him.
If the ship had been functional, they could have escaped, disappeared into space. Instead, they had been forced to scatter across New York, making themselves easy prey for Superman.
No shelter. No cover. No escape.
They were doomed.
"What?!"
Carter's head snapped up.
Hovering in front of him, Superman remained eerily calm, as if he had anticipated all of this.
And suddenly, Carter understood.
Steel…
It was him.
Superman hadn't acted alone. His every move had been calculated.
When Carter first set out from the Moon Base, he had believed Earth held no real threats. He had thought this mission would be easy.
Now, he realized how blind he had been.
He had underestimated Earth. Worse—he had overestimated himself.
For years, he had infiltrated human society, yet he had never heard of these so-called "heroes"—Batman, Superman, Steel…
Even after their emergence, when he called upon Skrull agents worldwide to gather intelligence, the results were the same.
No records. No history. No trace.
It was as if they had appeared from nowhere.
What else had Earth been hiding?
Carter's chest tightened.
I was a fool.
And then—
Superman's gaze fell on him.
Cold. Unyielding.
Carter felt his heartbeat stutter.
This was it.
There was no escape.
Energy crackled around his body. Space trembled from the sheer force of his power.
He gritted his teeth, eyes blazing with determination.
"Even if I die, I won't go down without a fight!"
Carter roared, his energy surging to its peak.
His remaining soldiers understood immediately.
He was stalling.
A sacrifice.
Without hesitation, they scattered in three different directions, desperate to flee.
If they could just break Superman's lock on them—if they could slip into the crowd, use their shapeshifting abilities—there was still a chance to survive.
Maybe.
Boom!
A searing red beam cut through the sky.
One of the fleeing Skrulls jerked midair, a gaping hole burned straight through his chest.
His lifeless body plummeted to the ground.
The others didn't fare any better.
Blood rained down as Superman obliterated each one with ruthless precision.
Before Carter's eyes, his last remaining soldiers were reduced to nothing.
Superman crushed them to ash.
And then—
Those burning red eyes turned toward him.
Superman spoke.
"You seem anxious."
His tone was calm—almost indifferent—but beneath it lurked something ice-cold.
A killing intent that sent a chill through Carter's bones.
"Don't worry… now it's your turn."
…
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