"What is this?" Clark exclaimed in shock, his voice barely audible over the chaos.
Before them stood a towering creature, easily two to three meters tall, its skin dark gray and cracked like old stone, emitting a faint foul odor. Its presence alone sent ripples of terror through the crowd fleeing down the street.
"It's obviously a giant zombie," Adrian said, brow furrowed as he observed the creature's foul shape.
The crowd's screams echoed as the massive figure roared, its voice low and gravely. With a single, enraged motion, it lashed out and punched a nearby car. The vehicle exploded instantly, erupting into a ball of fire and metal.
The giant wasn't done. It seized a vending machine from the sidewalk, sparks flying as it hoisted the heavy metal object above its head. With terrifying strength, it hurled the machine into the road.
Clark leapt to the side as it crashed down with a deafening clang, bending into a twisted ruin.
Stepping forward into the center of the street, Clark faced the creature with commanding presence. Its eyes glowed with a cold, chilling light.
"Who are you?" he demanded, voice firm and sharp.
A deep voice, slow and guttural, answered. "I am Solomon Grundy! Born on a Monday! Christened on Tuesday! Married on Wednesday!"
The monstrous being lunged with a massive fist, smashing toward Clark.
Clark, with reflexes far beyond any ordinary human, sidestepped easily. With both fists gathering his strength, he struck the creature in the abdomen, sending a powerful shock through its massive form.
Boom!
Solomon Grundy collapsed hard onto the pavement.
Adrian, standing nearby, watched with solemn eyes. Solomon Grundy was no ordinary opponent — a relic of DC Universe mythos, a monstrous undead avatar once known as Cyrus Gold, resurrected over and over from the Slaughter Swamp outside Gotham City, and endowed with immense strength, durability, and near‑immortality.
But why had he appeared here, in Blue Valley?
As Adrian pondered this, another group arrived at the edge of the battleground — the four young heroes recently expelled from the Justice Society.
Courtney sprinted forward, breath heavy, her staff lost but her determination intact. Wildcat and Midnight Doctor, now mostly healed, followed closely. Hourman lagged behind, still grimacing from his older injuries.
"We've made a mess," Courtney said, panting.
"My mistake," Hourman admitted bitterly. "I thought I could take him on myself to avenge my parents. But I wasn't ready. If I were fully healed, I wouldn't have let him slip away."
"You're not Hourman anymore," Wildcat teased from beside them, tone sharp but not unkind. "Your hourglass got damaged, so that power only lasts for half an hour now."
"I can still handle him," Hourman retorted, fire in his eyes.
Meanwhile, Midnight Doctor peered through her special lenses. "It looks like Solomon Grundy is engaged with someone strong," she reported.
When they reached the scene, Clark and Adrian were locked in fierce combat with the colossal undead. The repeated assaults from Clark had momentarily pushed Grundy back.
"It's them!" Courtney exclaimed. The display of speed and power between Clark and Adrian had already impressed them before — speed near supersonic, strength overwhelming, eyes capable of emitting devastating heat — unmatched by ordinary human standards.
Boom!
Clark struck again, driving Grundy to the ground. But before he could catch his breath, the fallen monster lashed out and grabbed Clark's ankle, flinging him forward with brutal force.
Clark crashed into the ground with a thunderous impact, cracking the road beneath him and sending up a spray of debris.
"Oh no!" Midnight Doctor cried out in alarm.
"What is it?" Courtney asked, concern sharpening her voice.
"I see a car heading toward this chaos. Since this road bends, the driver won't see what's happening up ahead." Using her glasses to detail the incoming vehicle, she reported urgently, "A blue Toyota is barreling this way."
"A blue Toyota?" Courtney's voice trembled.
Beth Chapel provided the license plate number. The moment Courtney heard it, her face went pale.
"That's my mom's car," she blurted, panic rising. "She usually picks up Mike from school around now. If they drive into this… it will be dangerous!"
"My brother," Courtney continued, trying to steady her voice. "We aren't related by blood but he's my family. He teases me about everything, but… he's my brother now. I have to protect them."
Wildcat exhaled irritably. "We're all not exactly normal at this point," he grumbled, gesturing to the ongoing battle.
Far ahead, Barbara Whitmore, dressed professionally and still radiant despite the early morning light, braked her car hard. Snow lightly dusted the road. She sensed something was off as the ground trembled beneath her wheels.
"She's late," she muttered to Mike in the passenger seat. "Buckle up and stop reading comics."
Mike didn't look up, absorbed in his book. "If the road is bumpy, that's fine mom."
"It's not just the road," Barbara said, irritation mixing with worry, "didn't you hear that sound?"
"No, I was thinking about something serious," Mike replied without glancing up. "You're going to divorce Pat, aren't you?"
Barbara froze. "Where did you hear that?"
"My comic book story," Mike said with wide‑eyed certainty, having caught fragments of adult conversation.
Before she could respond, a large, timber‑loaded pickup truck that failed to slow in time smashed into the blue Toyota's rear.
Bang!
The collision sent the car careening forward uncontrollably. Barbara's forehead snapped forward into the steering wheel as she groaned in pain. Mike, wincing, gripped his arm as the comic book flew from his hand.
"No, no, no!" Barbara cried, blood trickling from her brow as she stomped on the brakes. The truck, now stopped but still pressing against them, forced the Toyota forward toward where Clark and Solomon Grundy fought.
Barbara's eyes widened as she saw the chaos ahead. Fear struck her so suddenly she momentarily forgot her own injuries. Mike stared out the windshield, gripping his arm but forgetting the pain as the scene before him unfolded with terrifying clarity.
____
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