Chapitre 203: The Final Battle (Part 3)
But he quickly dismissed this horrifying thought.
While his counterpart was brutal and tyrannical, the Batman of this world had told him that Kal-El deeply loved this boy.
Clark Kent trusted his heart.
If anyone could do such a thing to the person they loved, they couldn't possibly be Clark Kent.
…Perhaps this was fate's most cruel punishment for Kal-El.
He had used his heat vision to lobotomize so many people, and now, the one he loved most might suffer the same fate.
Clark Kent's emotions were conflicted.
He looked at Soren and whispered, "I'm sorry," before gripping the iron cuff around Soren's ankle. "Forgive me, but I have to do this. I have to take you away. Staying with him is too dangerous for you."
With both hands, Clark grasped the iron cuff.
Using his Kryptonian strength, he applied force as though splitting a log, and in a single motion, he tore apart the strongest metal in the universe.
Before Soren could even scream, Clark had quickly dressed him in outdoor clothes, moving with such speed that he whisked Soren away right under the noses of the Justice League without a single soul noticing.
Clark took Soren to the new base of the Resistance in Africa.
As soon as they landed, the waiting members of the Resistance gathered around them.
Familiar faces filled Soren's view: Peter, Kong Kenan, Steve, Tony, Natasha, Hal, Bucky… and even more faces that should have been long gone, such as the Martian Manhunter J'onn J'onzz and Green Arrow Oliver Queen.
There was even Wonder Woman Diana, who had long been Superman's accomplice in this world.
And, to Soren's shock, a fully healed and mobile Batman—Bruce Wayne—stood before him.
Soren's face turned pale, his body trembling as he suddenly found himself surrounded by these familiar yet terrifying people.
Panic gripped him, and he instinctively clutched his plush doll tighter, taking a step back.
But his heel awkwardly caught on his toes, and he lost his balance, stumbling backward.
In that split second, everyone reached out, trying to catch him, but Soren fell into a cold and unyielding embrace.
The arms that caught him were encased in exoskeletal armor, the black, sleek plates like the sinewy muscles of a powerful beast.
The gloved hand that steadied his shoulder was wrapped in liquid armor, triple-layered with titanium-infused weave.
Soren's gaze suddenly became distant.
He couldn't help but turn around, only to be startled by the sight of a looming black bat.
…Those steel-blue eyes stared down at him, filled with the coldness of wind and snow, carrying the sharp edge of ice, and the roaring defiance of an unyielding spirit born in the depths of a relentless winter.
Those steel-blue eyes seemed branded into his memory, the pain of that searing mark flaring up once more like an old wound.
He whimpered, suddenly clutching his head with his fists, hitting himself as if trying to drive out the agony inside his mind. "It hurts…"
Batman, silent as ever, brought his firm hand to cradle the back of Soren's head, gently pressing Soren into his chest.
For a long time, he didn't speak, simply enveloping the trembling Soren in his strong, muscular frame, offering a semblance of comfort.
He held Soren tightly, every muscle in his body taut with tension.
His arms bulged with effort, his chest solid and immovable, his lips pressed into a thin line, his teeth clenched so tightly they ground together—trying to suppress the volcanic eruption of fury and grief that churned within him.
Yet the embrace he gave Soren remained light, controlled, distant, and cool.
Tony Stark, noticing Soren's distress, walking forward anxiously, his face tight with concern, his muscles twitching in barely-contained rage.
His fiery, expressive eyes burned with anger as he hoarsely demanded from Clark Kent, "What happened to him? What did that bastard do to him?"
Clark Kent raised his hands, struggling to find the right words. "His… his white matter has suffered significant damage, but I don't think it was Kal-El's doing."
Everyone's expressions instantly darkened.
White matter.
They had all seen too many criminals who had their white matter has been removed by Superman.
They knew exactly what such damage meant.
Kong Kenan slammed his fist hard into the wall!
He had held back his strength, of course, because even the reinforced Wakandan walls of the base wouldn't have survived the full force of his blow.
The impact left a deep handprint in the wall, and his clenched fist trembled.
He looked like a young lion whose territory had been stolen, his eyes bloodshot with rage. "What did he do to deserve this?!"
What could one person have possibly done to deserve such a damnable fate?
Soren had never wronged anyone—why did every curse, every misfortune, have to fall on him alone?
Tony Stark's face turned ashen.
He gritted his teeth, stumbling backward a step, his fingers digging into his hair. "Can't Superman heal him? Isn't there something your damn Kryptonian technology can do to save him?"
His eyes reddened with frustration as he glared at Clark Kent.
Batman, who had come to this world alongside Clark, stepped forward, his voice deep and steady. "If Kryptonian technology could repair the damage to his brain, I believe Kal-El would have treated him immediately. But clearly, the damage is too severe and irreversible."
Clark nodded. "That's right. However, his memory centers seem to have been spared from major harm—"
"But he'll still be like one of those criminals forever!" Tony Stark roared in fury.
His outburst startled Soren, who instinctively clutched his Superman doll tighter.
Tears welled in his eyes, and he shrank into himself, trembling in Batman's arms, his small frame quivering with fear.
Batman placed a firm hand on Soren's back, his voice deep and resolute. "Not forever."
—Not forever, and not now.
—He would never let this happen again.
...Since he had already used the cross-dimensional device to bring these people here, it meant his theory on spacetime was correct.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone