Earth.
A name that once meant hope, home, a future.
Now, however, that same name echoed like a muffled lament, a silent epitaph for a world on the brink of collapse.
Earth had once again received a visit from its worst nightmare: Darkseid, the ruthless monarch of Apokolips.
He did not come to negotiate. He did not come to threaten. He came to take and to destroy.
And this time, he had no interest in subtlety or symbolic displays of power.
Darkseid marched directly upon the planet, leading his armies like an inevitable force of destruction itself.
And Earth, despite all its courage and strength, was simply unable to withstand the invasion.
The heroes of Earth fought. They fought until their last breath, until the final fragment of hope, until not even the faintest glimmer of light remained.
But how does one resist a tyrant whose very existence was forged to conquer, subjugate, and erase entire civilizations?
How does one fight an endless horde of Parademons that, when struck down, seemed to be replaced by hundreds more, like an unending tide of nightmares?
How does one battle machines, weapons, and technologies so advanced that human science itself looked like a childish joke in comparison?
And worse than all of that—how could they face an enemy who wielded the most feared weapon in the entire multiverse—
The Anti-Life Equation.
With it, Darkseid did not merely invade; he shattered minds, corrupted hearts, and erased the will of his targets.
And so it came to pass that some of Earth's greatest heroes—symbols of courage and justice—were transformed into soulless soldiers, forced to fight their own friends, their families, everything they had once sworn to protect.
To destroy the world they had once called home.
In the end, it was not a war.
It was a massacre. An execution.
Earth's defenses collapsed in a matter of time.
Cities were swallowed by fire, silence, and desolation.
Most heroes died, fell, vanished, or were left permanently incapacitated.
What remained was no longer a Justice League.
It was simply… survival.
Only a handful of former heroes were still standing.
Not because of hope, but because they had not yet had the chance to fall.
---
Human Base — Former Metropolis
The former metropolis—once bright and vibrant, the city that had been protected by Superman—was now nothing more than a colossal ossuary of concrete and twisted steel.
The wind howled through the ruins like an endless lament.
Hidden deep within the heart of this urban graveyard lay a nearly undetectable human stronghold—the last spark of resistance.
Inside the underground conference room, dimly lit by unstable generators, Bruce Wayne sat motionless, his expression hard as stone.
He was no longer just Batman.
He was the man bearing the weight of an entire shattered planet.
Bruce waited.
He was waiting for something—or rather, for someone's return.
ZUMMMMM
A red flash tore through the air, warping space as if time itself were screaming.
Bruce rose instinctively, his eyes narrowing.
Barry Allen appeared, wrapped in unstable lightning.
Pale. Exhausted. Shaking.
"Barry… how are you?" Bruce asked, already knowing the answer wouldn't be good.
Barry staggered to a chair, collapsed into it, and let out a heavy sigh, more exhausted than the room itself.
"I found him in the past… but I arrived too early. The first invasion hadn't even begun yet. I barely managed to say anything before I was pulled back. Bruce, I… I failed."
Bruce stepped closer.
His voice was deep, but as gentle as he could allow it to be.
"Don't blame yourself, Barry. You did what you could."
But the truth was different: Barry was broken.
Time, once his safest road, now felt like a maze of dead ends and traps.
"Ever since he… ever since Arthur was taken by the Anti-Life…" Barry swallowed hard. "…everything collapsed."
Bruce closed his eyes. He knew. God, how he knew.
A year ago, Darkseid had arrived.
And with him came ruin.
The Mother Boxes opened portals, shattered boundaries, and turned Earth into an arena.
Dozens of heroes fell.
Allies turned on one another.
Hope… dissolved.
A flickering flame crackled in the corner of the room, and a hoarse voice laden with British sarcasm cut through the air:
"With this funeral atmosphere, I take it the time travel didn't go as planned?"
John Constantine leaned against the wall, wearing his old, worn brown trench coat, a cigarette dangling between his fingers.
In the middle of that hell, he looked disturbingly calm.
"It may have failed… but we still have a chance," Bruce insisted, still trying to believe his own words.
Constantine shot him a heavy, almost merciful look.
"You feel it too, don't you, Bats? That feeling in your gut… that certainty that no matter what you do, it won't change a damn thing."
He tossed the cigarette to the floor and crushed it beneath his boots.
Before Bruce could reply, a voice broke the silence:
"Hey! What's wrong with all of you?"
Oliver Queen stood in the doorway, his expression hardened by months of loss.
Behind him entered Cyborg, Deathstroke, the Joker—and finally,
Superman.
The last resistance.
The final line.
The last thread before the absolute abyss.
Bruce looked around.
Every face bore different scars.
But the common denominator was the same: they were all broken.
"Hahahahahaha! So the grand plan to save the world turned to ashes, Batsy?" the Joker mocked, his manic grin clashing violently with the room's somber mood.
Oliver silenced him with a murderous glare, then turned back to Bruce.
"There's nothing else? No other option?"
Bruce wanted to say no.
He wanted to say it was over.
But he couldn't.
He was Batman—and if he gave up, then it truly would be the end.
Before he could answer, the base shook.
The power died.
The room plunged into a heavy, suffocating darkness.
No one panicked.
They knew this kind of darkness… and they knew exactly who caused it.
The entire world was becoming like this.
Deathstroke was the first to break the silence:
"That bastard is out there, fighting that horde of Parademons, while we hide like rats."
Bruce clenched his fists.
His voice came out like steel snapping.
"That means there's only one target left for him to face. The one responsible for all of this…
The one who destroyed Arthur's family.
The one who is extinguishing our world…"
Bruce lifted his gaze, cold as death.
"Darkseid dies today."
---
(End of Chapter)