[Integrated/Crossover DC/Marvel] Why Did the World End Again? - Chapter 15

Chapter 15: The Planet of Destruction

It started raining a sudden, torrential downpour that left Alice in a pensive silence. In almost all films or literature, rain rarely signifies anything good; its appearance usually heralds tragedy or some other negative connotation.

“It’s raining in Gotham again.”

Clark looked up. Gotham always seemed to have an inseparable bond with the endless, drizzling rain. The Bat never gives up, and perhaps that is exactly why he died.

“Is this real?”

Alice looked at Clark, hoping for a different answer from his lips hoping this was all some kind of illusion. She watched the dense rows of tombstones standing in the Gotham night, looking exceptionally desolate.

“Wayne Manor must have had many servants, right? I mean… maybe those graves don’t belong solely to them…”

Clark didn’t answer her. Always a law-abiding man, he was now deciding to do the most rebellious thing of his life: he was going to dig up Bruce’s grave. He had to witness the truth with his own eyes.

Clark scanned the area and spotted a shovel leaning nearby. He remembered this shovel; once, when Jason had suddenly reappeared, Bruce had used this very tool to dig up his son’s grave, tearing open his own heart in the process. He had faced the bloody reality then, and now Clark would use that same shovel to find the final truth.

Alice didn’t understand his intent, but she stayed by his side to help. Together, they dug into the graveyard soil. As he dug, Clark suddenly found the situation ironic. He remembered the time he himself had died. Had he been lying in the dirt like this, only to be dug out by the Flash and Cyborg?

“We hit it…”

Alice stared at the exposed coffin, hardly daring to breathe. She looked at Clark’s face; the usually gentle Superman now had his lips pressed thin, his expression deathly serious.

“Open it.”

The Waynes were certainly wealthy—Alice could tell that much just from the sheer opulence of the coffin. When the lid was pried open, it revealed the body within. One couldn’t recognize the face, only the skeletal remains of a figure dressed in an expensive suit, lying still in the dark.

Alice peered in curiously. She had only ever seen the “richest man” in newspapers and headlines. Her impression of him was limited to those “twinkling blue eyes” and the tabloid scandals that never seemed to fade from the front pages.

But perhaps death truly is the only absolute justice in this world. Whether you are wealthy or talented, or possess an incomparably beautiful face, once you are dead, it is that simple: buried in the earth, eventually rotting away.

A hundred years later, no one can tell who was who.

Clark knelt down. He examined the white bones, looking closely at the sites of old injuries and the traces of wear left on the skeleton by years of battle. He remembered: this was where Bane had broken him; this was the injury from the fall during the gamble with Two-Face; this was the break from the brawl with the Joker.

Sometimes the world is strange like that. Clark might not have wanted to admit it, but the evidence proved it: these remains belonged to Bruce himself.

Strangely, there were no obvious fatal wounds. Clark couldn’t determine the cause of death. He looked up at the sky; the rain was getting heavier…

“It’s him.”

Alice was completely lost. She still didn’t understand the correlation between finding Batman and opening Bruce Wayne’s coffin. She watched as Clark solemnly replaced the lid with a heavy heart and reburied the casket.

Alice didn’t know why Bruce’s death had such a profound impact on Superman, but his grave expression suggested that the person who had departed was the most important individual in his life.

Alice followed obediently behind him, both of them soaked like drowned rats. They found Lisol Wayne again, who was sitting blankly in the manor’s drawing room, seemingly lost in thought.

“He is gone forever. So who… what exactly happened?”

Lisol Wayne lowered her head and said nothing. Her mind was slipping into ultimate chaos. Batman’s shouts, the Joker’s voice, the harsh words Jason spoke when he left they looped through her brain one by one. She seemed to remember, yet seemed to remember nothing.

Finally, her fractured mind seemed to latch onto something vital. She looked up and spoke.

“The Daily Planet. The final measures are hidden in the Daily Planet. That’s where Batman left things the contingency plans and the backup devices.”

Hearing Lisol’s words, Clark thought carefully. He truly hadn’t found anything of great importance in the Batcave; he had only found half of a suicide note, with most other files having been destroyed.

He remembered the line in the Bat-files:

“This was all inevitable, but perhaps there is one last chance in burning the boats.”

So, Clark decided to head to the Daily Planet. Alice remained out of the loop, not understanding why they were suddenly rushing to another city, but she said nothing and followed.

When they reached the bridge, Clark realized he had never imagined the journey from Gotham to Metropolis could be so difficult.

The two cities usually stood facing each other, separated only by a bridge but that bridge had been destroyed.

Under normal circumstances, if Superman had his powers, he could have flown Alice across in seconds. But these were special times. They decided to take a boat. At the mention of a boat, Lisol’s expression briefly contorted with struggle before returning to a mask of calm.

“Both of you, stay safe. And do not tell anyone your real names.”

The cryptic warning left them both confused, but they said nothing as they embarked on their journey. As they headed toward the Gotham docks, Clark’s mind was occupied with other things.

His thoughts were messy. He remembered a night many years ago also a rainy night. That was the first time he had come to Gotham and had his first “friendly” encounter with Batman. Slowly, they became the best of partners, then came the Justice League. It seemed no hardship could stop them, and so they had stood side-by-side to protect the world for all those years.

Clark didn’t know exactly how Bruce had died, but he firmly believed the man was not a quitter. This meant the danger level of this world needed to be adjusted upward.

He didn’t know how to escape this “game,” nor did he know what the victory condition was. He could only follow the current guidance step by step. After boarding the boat, they headed for the Metropolis harbor. Usually, the trip wasn’t a hassle since the cities were so close, but for some reason, ever since stepping onto the deck, Clark had a bad feeling. He pushed his doubts aside, comforting himself that it was nothing.

Clark steered the boat slowly forward. The rain grew so heavy it was almost impossible to see the path ahead. The lighthouse that usually lit up the night remained dark for some reason. Looking at the pitch-black silhouette of Metropolis, a sense of foreboding rose in Clark’s heart. Finally, relying on his super-memory, they reached the harbor. However, the moment they stepped off the boat, Clark heard a burst of laughter. He spun around, but the sound stopped instantly.

Alice, just stepping onto land, heard the laughter too. She looked back at the dark sea. The rain was too thick to see clearly, but she caught a blurry glimpse of a figure standing silently in the middle of the water. She couldn’t see a face, only a faint, distorted symbol on the chest.

“What is your name?”

“Alice?”

Superman’s call pulled Alice back to reality. She was about to point and explain the situation to him, but she found the vast surface of the water perfectly flat again, with no trace of the figure. In a flash of realization, Alice covered her mouth.

She knows my name…

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… let’s talk after we get out of here…”

However, when they actually entered the city, Clark fell into a pained silence. Was there anyone who knew Metropolis better than him? He thought not. This was his second home, the city under Superman’s protection. He never expected it to look like this.

If Gotham had become strangely deathly, then Metropolis had become strangely chaotic.

The streets were almost empty. The few people there walked in a frantic hurry. Many shops were boarded up or had been completely ransacked.

“This place looks like Gotham…” Alice whispered.

Clark’s brow furrowed at the sight, but they pushed on until they reached their destination: The Daily Planet.

When Alice saw the building, she was stunned. As a new resident who had recently moved to Metropolis in the real world, she knew what the Daily Planet was supposed to look like. But this dilapidated, almost pathetic structure how could this be the center of the city, the “conscience of journalism”?

Clark said nothing, stubbornly walking forward. When he pushed open the first door, he was met with a scene of utter carnage.

Scattered manuscripts and smashed computers told the story of how frantic and violent the scene had been.

Clark said nothing; he simply kept walking.

As he walked, his foot stepped on a tattered, old newspaper.

The headline was massive and striking:

“SUPERMAN IS DEAD.”

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