Chapter 242: Batman Is Truly Done For This Time!
Obviously.
It’s so clear even without using your brain.
Because of the unknown mutation triggered by the three children in the past.
The future here is undergoing temporal paradox corrections and alterations in a way common to the DC Universe, but almost always heart-pounding.
Metropolis, the city symbolizing light and hope, is now experiencing a silent horrific transformation. The originally neat and bright glass curtain wall buildings have massive neon-lit pipelines and irregular metal patches appearing on their surfaces—taxis on the streets are also changing.
Old-fashioned yellow taxis, while driving, have their shapes modified like by an invisible brush, gradually twisting into more streamlined outlines with exaggerated tailfins and colorful light strips on hover vehicles.
In the air.
A faint scent mixing motor oil and cheap perfume begins to permeate. Even stranger, some things that originally didn’t exist are appearing out of thin air.
Next to Metropolis Central Park, a building with a “Metropolis First People’s Hospital” sign, whose style clashes with the surroundings, is materializing from blurry to clear.
As if forcibly embedding itself into reality.
All these changes are not instantaneous but at a steady, unhurried yet relentless speed, like tides covering the original reality.
As if a huge eraser in the “New America” style is barbarically erasing everything original, then redraws what it deems “correct.”
“Damn it! Did they overthrow America in the past? What the hell is this?!”
Constantine looks at the nightmare-like shifting scenes around him in shock; the magic rules he relies on to understand and manipulate reality are also becoming chaotic.
Hard to use.
“You have to do something!”
No choice, Constantine with blood at his mouth can only look toward The Flash.
His several spell attempts all ended in failure, even causing backlash to his body from incorrect casting under the current magic rules.
However, the current “magic master” can’t care about his own body anymore.
“The timeline is being massively rewritten!” The Flash Barry Allen has the sharpest perception of time; he can “hear” the painful groans from time itself, so he’s as panicked as Constantine, “Right, right! I have to do something! Quick! Tell me, what can I do?!”
Others ask him.
Yet his mind is blank.
He looks like a combination of a quail and a headless fly, glances around for a moment without finding a better thinker, and can only turn his pleading gaze back to Constantine, the only one on site who might have a way.
It really feels like passing the buck to each other.
“?????” Constantine looks at this superhero who claims to surpass light speed and travel through time, yet now asking him for help like a student who lost his homework.
He suddenly feels a deep sense of speechlessness.
“Am I the superhero or are you the superhero?!” Constantine can’t help but roar, “Use that speedster brain of yours!”
“Can’t your brain run faster than time?!”
Constantine is very familiar with some information about superheroes; after all, he’s a gray-area operator who sells second-hand hero info to villains for money.
“Oh oh, right right.”
Roared at by Constantine, Barry seems awakened.
He nods quickly, golden Speed Force crackling like electricity around him; the high-speed flowing energy even stimulates his brain cortex trying to spark inspiration.
“Got it!” The Speed Force is indeed useful, Barry loves using it. After a few instants, he slaps his head, eyes lighting up as if he thought of a brilliant idea.
“What idea?”
Constantine looks at him expectantly.
Only to see The Flash say seriously.
“I have to go find Superman and Batman!”
Yes, that’s his brilliant idea.
Constantine: “…”
This answer is so “great” that Constantine falls into three seconds of silence, followed by deeper speechlessness and the urge to curse.
He starts suspecting if this speedster’s brain was burned out by the Speed Force?! However, The Flash doesn’t wait for any response or mockery from Constantine; electric light flashes on this speedster again, leaving “I’ll be back soon!”, then turns into a golden bolt of lightning.
Barry!
Barry Allen is running!
He races along the cyberpunk-izing streets toward Gotham at his recently broken speed limit! Along the way, Barry Allen sees more bizarre scenes.
“National highway” toll booths appearing out of thin air on roads are increasing, some toll collectors’ figures even starting to solidify; small drones flashing police lights appear in the sky patrolling; roadside billboards all turn into holographic projections playing ads for cybernetic implants and neural plugs.
“Cyberpunk?!”
Barry Allen seems to know the direction Metropolis is “mutating” toward; even his faster-than-light thinking brain can’t figure out what change caused such a chain reaction.
When he rushes into Gotham territory, his heart sinks further—the mutations here are equally severe, but in a completely different style! Gotham’s buildings are becoming more twisted and grotesque, colors vivid and mad, walls sprouting eerie smiling face graffiti; the whole city seems evolving toward the manic aesthetic dominated by Joker!
“Oh my god…” The Flash wails inwardly, really feeling his little heart isn’t up to it, “What the hell did those kids do in the past?!”
He can only control himself not to think too much.
Otherwise.
Makes one shudder upon further thought.
And among those inwardly asking this question like The Flash, he’s not the only one—inside the Batcave, the atmosphere is heavy as lead.
Superman Clark looks at Batman just carefully placed by him in a special container, then turns to Bruce Wayne who “walks” out from the shadows pushing a wheelchair.
His face is full of anxiety and confusion.
“Bruce… what the hell is going on? What did those kids do in the past?” This is exactly the same question as in The Flash’s mind; Clark’s voice carries a faint tremble—he can’t imagine what behavior could trigger such a horrific temporal chain reaction.
“To be honest, Clark… I don’t know.” Batman’s voice is weak and hoarse, transmitted through the armor’s built-in voice assist system.
This rare powerless answer makes Clark’s heart sink sharply—even a situation Bruce can’t predict or analyze is truly unimaginable for Superman.
Definitely an unprecedented calamity.
“I don’t think it would be Jonathan and… well, it just wouldn’t be Jonathan who caused the problem.”
Clark says gravely.
Not sure why it jumps straight to blaming; at this moment, golden electric light flashes, and The Flash Barry Allen appears panting in the Batcave.
“Bruce! Clark! Bad news! Outside… everything outside is messed up! Metropolis is turning cyberpunk! Gotham is turning into Joker land!”
Barry shouts at top speed.
He concisely explains the situation.
Batman’s gaze seems to “look” toward The Flash.
“Barry…” his voice still weak, but with an indisputable command, “You have to go back… bring them back… correct the influence.”
His tone is deadly serious; this is the most direct solution conceivable right now. However, upon hearing this, The Flash’s face shows extremely complex and troubled expression.
“Go back to the past? This… I can’t do this!” Barry blurts out without hesitation, his voice carrying an indescribable embarrassment.
“What do you mean can’t?” Clark immediately senses something wrong, brows furrowed. Isn’t time travel as natural as breathing for The Flash?
“Can’t means… that’s beyond my capabilities.” The Flash avoids Superman’s gaze, giving a vague response.
“But that’s always been your ability!” Clark’s eyes are full of shock and doubt; he feels the Barry in front of him is somewhat unfamiliar.
“Though you all say that, and everyone says that… but…” The Flash hesitates, seeming caught in some cognitive confusion and tangle.
Not knowing how to explain.
“Hm, seems consistent with the info my intel shows.” At this moment, Batman in the wheelchair seems to see through something with his superhuman insight.
“Barry isn’t lying.” Batman’s voice carries a calm that pierces the truth, “Our memories, and his memories… might have some differences.”
This sentence explodes like thunder in The Flash’s ears, making his expression more complex, even with a hint of bewilderment and pain, as if touching a truth he can’t understand or face.
“He’s not the Barry we know?” Clark’s expression stiffens instantly, thinking of parallel universe, identity swap, and various possibilities.
“No, I also remember the past events and what I could do before, but that memory increasingly feels like some dreamscape…”
“I’m being influenced by something, believe me, things aren’t what you think…”
The Flash waves his hands hurriedly.
But he seems unable to give a clear explanation.
Thus.
He can only look pleadingly at Batman.
“Barry is right, he is still our Barry, just…” Here, Batman suddenly sighs, and when he speaks again, he’s somewhat fatigued.
“The specifics… I’m afraid I can’t explain in detail anymore. Anyway, if that time machine in the Hall of Justice can’t be used either…”
He pauses, as if making a decision, and says the name: “Then go find Ian Kent! Find that source that locked time!”
After saying.
Batman in the special wheelchair doesn’t look at Clark whose expression is becoming colorful, just turns his gaze to the huge surveillance screen in the cave.
On the screen.
Real-time displaying New York, London, Paris… and the increasingly eerie changing scenes of Gotham and Metropolis. He slowly raises his hand wrapped in armor to his eyes.
Under Clark and Barry’s horrified gazes, Batman’s hand is turning transparent at a visible speed! As if his whole person is being erased from this world!
“Heh.”
As if self-mocking.
Then.
Bruce Wayne’s expression remains calm.
No fluctuation.
Seems to have long anticipated all this.
“Bruce! What’s wrong with you?! No, you’re being affected by the timeline shift!” Clark is shocked, rushes forward to grab Bruce.
However, his hand passes through the gradually dissipating shadow, unable to grasp any entity!
“Farewell.”
Only managing to leave one sentence.
Batman’s figure, like a candle in the wind, completely dissipates under Clark and Barry’s stunned gazes, leaving no trace as if never existed.
After a brief silence.
“They… Damian! Damian killed Batman!” The Flash Barry Allen lets out a sharp cry, subconsciously covering his mouth but unable to hide the terror on his face.
His voice is trembling.
Clearly, from this shocking scene, he brain-supplemented something terrible.
Barry Allen understands time’s workings well and immediately thinks that in the past, Damian committed some patricide leading to Batman’s future existence being completely erased!
“Go!”
Clark suppresses the massive shock in his heart; he knows now is not the time for shock and grief! He must prevent the situation from worsening!
Thus, he roars at Barry, then his figure turns into a blue phantom, instantly rushing out of the Batcave at speed far surpassing The Flash!
This is truly speed surpassing lightning.
“Whoosh whoosh whoosh~”
The Flash doesn’t even have time to react, can only watch the direction Superman disappeared, snaps back and grits his teeth, electric light rises around him again, chasing at full speed.
When The Flash arrives at the Hall of Justice at top speed and rushes into the secret room storing the time machine, he finds Superman already standing there, face terribly grim.
Superman has clearly inspected the complex device.
“From your expression… not good.” The Flash pants, reading Clark’s face, “We have to… go find Ian?”
Clark doesn’t answer, but his action says it all. He turns his head sharply, gaze as if piercing layers of walls toward Metropolis!
Next moment, Superman’s figure vanishes from the spot! When The Flash arrives via speed outside the Demon Manor deep in the Colorado mountain range, Superman is already there, facing the huge iron gate carved with a demon head that looks very wrong.
“No trespassing, this is private property…” A demon head butler in classical butler attire but with deep red skin and horns on his head just appears.
Before it finishes speaking or uses its strength, its whole demon body is planted headfirst into a nearby huge decorative flower pot.
“Puff puff puff~”
Leaving only two legs kicking helplessly outside.
Demon soldiers appear, but Superman and The Flash following closely ignore all defenses and warnings, forcing entry into the manor.
Actually, there aren’t many interceptors.
Because.
“Intruders! There are intruders!”
“Big trouble! The intruders are Master’s father!”
“Bad! We have to play blind! No, poke each other’s eyes blind!”
Actually, the demons know when to advance and retreat.
After all, the King of Hell who trained them knows social graces best.
……
Hard to say how much time passed.
Deep in the manor.
In the most luxurious bedroom.
Ian Kent is sprawled on his hell-imported big bed, smacking his lips, seemingly still savoring the “Mars crabs” from his dream.
Suddenly.
A slap hits his forehead.
“Bold peasant!”
Ian wakes up groggily, rubs his eyes, then… the lines after can’t come out. The first person in view is the ashen-faced Superman.
And The Flash Barry Allen, Wonder Woman Diana, Aquaman Arthur Curry, and other Justice League founders, all gathered here staring at Ian with varied expressions.
“????”
Justice League full roster, almost all here! Surrounding him!
Ian’s sleepiness instantly vanishes to the clouds!
“I’ve made merits for Earth! I’ve shed blood for Earth! You can’t do this!” Ian thinks his past deeds are exposed, Justice League knows he’s Earth’s most hidden richest man, so they gathered to condemn him; thus he shouts while teleporting to the door.
Speed really fast.
Running very professionally.
However.
The bolting behavior only lasts an instant.
Next moment.
Still the familiar feeling, familiar taste—a steady powerful hand covered in red gloves precisely grabs Ian’s nape.
“Damn it! I’ve clearly gotten so much stronger!”
