American comic book: My Father is Superman, am I just an NPC?

Chapter 184 Golden Superman! Darkseid was stunned!
The destructive power of a Martian explosion is actually not that great.

Mars is a rocky planet with an internal structure mainly composed of silicate rocks and a metallic core. It does not have the conditions for nuclear fusion fuel and continuous fusion reactions like stars.

Even if the Martian explosion released all its gravitational binding energy, it would only be three millionths of the Sun's energy per second, so the aftershocks of the explosion would not reach Earth.

however.

The energy emanating from the two golden figures was different. Mars exploded, but at this moment, the flames and shockwaves that swept across the planet seemed so dim.

At the very center of the explosion, two figures were locked in a confrontation that defied the laws of physics, their combined light so intense that even a supernova would pale in comparison.

This is not science.

It's called "Krypton Studies".

Krypton's idealistic philosophy.

The moment the two figures collided at the core, all the fire, dust, and shockwaves became mere background noise. At the epicenter of the explosion, two golden figures were locked in a physical struggle.

One, clad in a red and blue suit, with eyes as fiery as stars, is Superman, Clark Kent, a symbol of hope. The other, whose suit is also gold, is also Superman, Clark Kent. However, this person is Ian's father's counterpart from another universe, with an incredibly resolute and cold expression.

"They showed me everything, let me witness the end... Only when there is only one Superman left can we save this multiverse!"

The golden Superman whispered to Ian's father, saying that the real Clark of this universe did not approve of this kind of salvation by slaughtering his counterparts. He remained silent and clashed his arms with the other's.

The mere clash of their energies had already torn apart the fabric of space and time.

boom--! ! !
A beam of light, indescribable in words, erupted from the center of their clash.

That's not just light.

It was the pure torrent of their will, the embodiment of the purest "hope" deep within the Kryptonian bloodline, a light of belief powerful enough to rewrite the laws of physics.

It swept through, obliterating stellar debris like pencil marks erased by an eraser, even distorting and warping spacetime itself. Golden energy, like a galaxy pouring down, instantly engulfed the Martian remains, Phobos, and all the floating clone corpses. Stars, meteorites, and everything else in its path.

Even the light itself was evaporated, distorted, and reconstituted into pure light dust by this force. This light was extremely powerful, far exceeding the brightness of any burning star.

It was as if it were about to ignite the darkness of the entire multiverse.

"Superman of Light! The real M78 Nebula is in DC!"

Ian straddled Injustice, his hands gripping Injustice's fingers tightly. Injustice's knuckles cracked under the strain, and it looked like Ian was about to break his sixth finger.

however.

The light had already burst forth towards them.

"How could this happen... Your Clark shouldn't have such potential..." Unjust Superman, whose emotions were being suppressed, was still in a daze when Ian grabbed him and used him as a human shield.

"We must use Superman to fight Superman!"

Ian hid his face behind the other person's back. The moment the light engulfed the two of them, Ian felt his blood boiling—not a metaphor, but a real golden-red flame ignited in his veins.

Even little Ian felt a burning sensation, as if he had been set ablaze.

Berserker Experience +99

Berserker Experience +99

Berserker Experience +99

……

[Warning: A surge in germ cell activity has been detected. Immediate cooling is recommended.]

Golden light surged forth like a tsunami.

That's not physical temperature, but combustion at an existential level.

Injustice was blocked in front of Ian, but even so, as the light was about to engulf him, Ian still felt a burning sensation as if his little Ian was being ignited.

"Cooling my ass!" Ian clung tightly to Injustice, feeling like he was struggling in a tsunami while holding onto a surfboard. "Is this some kind of cooling device?!"

Ian was making a sharp, explosive sound.

Not far away, Batman's Hellfire armor emitted a piercing overload alarm. Beneath the mask, Bruce Wayne's pupils reflected the approaching golden wave.

He looked up at the all-encompassing golden light, and for the first time, genuine fear appeared in his eyes.

"No... this impact... I can't withstand it at all..." He suddenly raised his left arm, and a miniature card reader popped out from the armor, revealing a gold card in his hand.

"Unlock limited-time magical superpowers! Highest privileges!"

The hellbat roared, but he forced himself to remain calm and swiped the card. This was the little surprise Ian had designed for him; swiping the card would unlock various magical superpowers that Ian had inscribed on it.

It could be considered an added-value service. Ian knew that Bruce Wayne would eventually thank him because he made Bruce Wayne's financial power even more deserving of the title.

【drop--】

Insufficient balance.

Of course, not having money is a different story. Since the armor's "internet" service is provided by Marvel's black box, even in this environment, the network signal shouldn't be affected under normal circumstances. However, while the network signal wasn't a problem, Batman's financial resources suffered a major setback.

"What?!" Batman was stunned. He had only grabbed a card randomly, but it shouldn't have been used up so quickly. The King of Gotham was furious.

"I have eight billion in this card! And it only lasted eight minutes?!" Even someone as indifferent to money as Batman felt like he'd been robbed at this moment.

This is what it means to use the power of money.

The armored AI projected a line of flashing red text in front of his eyes.

“FUC—”

Just as Batman saw the AI ​​message suggesting that it could provide him with "Ian Loan," the light arrived, completely swallowing up Batman's final curse.

Perhaps no universe's Clark Kent is without malice towards Batman, so their light contains a critical strike that is exceptionally effective against Batman.

The Kent Hell Armor was mostly unharmed, especially the card reader, which was stronger than any other component. However, the armor couldn't protect against the light that could penetrate it.

The light didn't explode or cause any impact; it simply enveloped him gently. But in the next instant—Bruce's flesh and blood didn't even leave behind ashes.

Flesh, bones, nerves, and memories crumbled like grains of sand; everything that constituted Bruce Wayne's body vanished into nothingness in silence.

He didn't even have time to scream.

Like dust casually brushed away by a god.

The golden light continued to spread, engulfing everything.

"No! Uncle Bruce! You can't be reunited with your son yet! Leave me one hand... leave me one hand that can unlock the hidden treasures you've hidden in Gotham!" Ian, holding the mangled body of Injustice Superman, rolled around in the light. His eyes could barely see, and the last thing he saw was the two figures exchanging blows in the sea of ​​light.

The entire Milky Way galaxy seemed to tremble under that attack.

at the same time.

Earth, Gotham, inside the Wayne family's Batcave No. 666. In the dark room, dozens of monitors simultaneously lit up with a blinding red light.

Gotham's newest hero, the wheelchair-bound Batman Bruce Wayne, suddenly opened his eyes, his chest heaving violently. His hands gripped the armrests of his wheelchair tightly.

Sweat dripped from Bruce Wayne's chin onto the armrests of the golden throne, each drop shattering against the intricately carved relief.

His muscles were spasming uncontrollably, as if he had just been pierced by a hundred thousand volts of electricity—in fact, it was almost like that; the aftereffects of the psionic overload still made his nerve endings burn with a stinging pain.

Because of overly intense emotions.

His psychic powers, which were not originally his, began to spiral out of control again.

In the sparsely equipped room, various everyday items still exploded, floated, and even mutated as a result. Fortunately, the robotic arm was injecting him with a psionic inhibitor. The syringe automatically pierced his neck, injecting pale blue nano-repair fluid into his nerves. A few seconds later, his gray-blue eyes regained their cold sharpness.

Batman suppressed the power within him that he felt was a burden.

"The 37th clone death suggests you suspend the neural link, young master." Alfred's voice came through the walkie-talkie, the old butler's voice tinged with worry.

He feared that his young master would become obsessed with this forbidden research.

Bruce didn't answer. The clone's last vision remained on his retina. That all-consuming golden light was more violent than the sun and more cruel than the apocalypse—before the clone's pain nerves burned out in a fraction of a second, it still had time to transmit absurd sensory data to the original.

Yes.

Batman was overestimated by Ian. He didn't really solve the wheelchair problem; he just found a way to stand in front of everyone without being noticed.

People thought they had encountered the real Batman, unaware that Batman had deceived everyone once again. The "Batman" on Phobos, whose face was stomped on by Injustice Superman and ultimately swallowed by golden light, was merely a puppet he had meticulously created. The real Batman had been hiding in this secret room ever since the wheelchair-bound Batman craze.

He used forbidden psionic powers forcibly imposed on him from the Warhammer universe to project his consciousness onto a clone, controlling its actions, battles, and even fighting alongside Superman.

As for the origin of the clones, it's quite simple; it was just a normal act of commercial theft. Don't forget, the unconscious Luther has always been in his hands.

"Damn it! I underestimated the Kryptonians!" With the help of the drugs, Batman quickly regained his sharp mind and maneuvered his wheelchair to the computer, typing away at the keyboard.

"Activate the space-based defense protocol."

Bruce Wayne's voice was extremely hoarse as he transmitted the command into the defense system he had established through nine authorization methods, including voice authorization and fingerprint authorization.

In space, in Earth's orbit, thousands of devices disguised as space debris suddenly deploy.

They are not weapons, but foldable defense devices made of nanomaterials, which Batman tinkered with after watching a TV program called "The Mystery of the Dinosaur Extinction".

No one expected that they would come in handy at this moment. Under Bruce's command, they moved, combined, and unfolded rapidly, like millions of metal bats weaving a giant net in the night sky.

These miniature devices pieced together to form a vast black film in Earth's orbit—within minutes, a tentative umbrella-shaped energy shield spanning the Earth-Moon orbit began to take shape. From a lunar observatory, a bat-shaped shadow would appear to be emerging over the entire northern hemisphere.

It looks just like a real, large black umbrella.

They wanted to shield the light coming from Mars, attempting to distort, deflect, and absorb the impending torrent of light in order to give Earth a chance to survive.

only.

“Unstoppable…” Bruce stared at the real-time astronomical data, his pupils contracting. The speed of that golden light far exceeded his comprehension, and its energy readings had surpassed the range of all instruments.

The shield's construction progress bar had just reached 37%, and the vanguard of light was already approaching the Earth-Moon distance. On Earth, not only Batman, but also the general public could sense that something was wrong.

When that golden streak of light that tore through the night sky appeared outside the atmosphere, social media across the globe exploded, with the most bizarre reactions coming from the American public amidst the chaos.

Arizona, desert campsite.

A bearded man wearing a "Welcome to Area 51" T-shirt, holding binoculars, suddenly roared: "God! It's God's flashlight! He's coming to take us! Repent now!"

A group of people nearby immediately knelt down to pray, and some began burning credit cards, calling it a "worldly sin."

"Family members! The aliens are calling! This is their signal to us!" A group of young people sunbathing pointed to the sky, they were obsessed with UFOs and KFC.

This is the beauty of America.

At a gas station in Texas, Roy, a truck driver wearing a tinfoil hat, kicked open the convenience store door and pointed a shotgun at the cashier.

"Quick! Give me all the anti-radiation beef jerky! The government has finally launched the Blue Light Project! The end of the world is coming!" Clearly, people with doomsday conspiracy theories are not a minority among the public.

The cashier rolled her eyes and continued scrolling through the #LightInTheNightSky trending topic on TikTok. In the video, a well-known conspiracy theorist was shouting himself hoarse at the camera on a giant screen in Times Square, New York.

"These are Bill Gates' 5G nanorobots! They will control how often we poop through vaccine chips!" In the background, several young people wearing "I'm an alien and I'm proud" T-shirts are acting as straight men.

“This is definitely a new Starlink feature from Musk. He tweeted last week that he wanted to increase cooperation with the military!” Tech elites in Silicon Valley, California, quickly convened an emergency online meeting.

They didn't seem to be any smarter.

Florida, however, always has a unique style. Footage taken by a police helicopter shows at least thirty elderly men dressed only in inflatable dinosaur suits spraying disinfectant into the sky with garden hoses.

"We're working on an ozone layer repair project! Since disinfectant can kill viruses, it must also be able to repair the ozone layer... Oh, by the way, is the ozone layer the same substance as our farts?"

The leader of the dinosaur-like beings likely only reached the level of an American public elementary school. The drawbacks of severely unequal access to educational resources, coupled with the prevalence of finance education, become even more apparent in situations like this.

At the White House press conference, the spokesperson had barely uttered "This could be a natural astronomical phenomenon" when the audience erupted in uproar. A Fox News reporter jumped up and began shouting that the authorities were testing another secret weapon of mass destruction.

"It's clearly a Russian weather weapon!" a CNN reporter immediately retorted, and the two almost came to blows on the spot. While seemingly glamorous people were engaged in political struggles, the real scientists were having a meltdown in NASA's control center.

Many scholars who observed the cosmic anomaly and conducted some analysis panicked, but they calmed down after seeing the #AlienPinPeeLightingProject trending on Twitter. Many silently straightened their clothes, preparing to perish along with this messed-up world.

Faced with such a disaster.

The social reaction was quite strange. Perhaps people are used to superheroes saving the world, so much so that a certain online shopping platform even had time to urgently put up curtains to "prevent alien spying".

[It wasn't me, but I might consider it next time] Even Ma Sheng, the open-source emperor who has ventured into various industries such as rockets and automobiles, posted a sarcastic remark on Twitter.

of course.

The person who posted this tweet was just an assistant to this capitalist, who was just trying to capitalize on the internet buzz. In reality, he had already taken refuge in a doomsday fortress deep underground.

“This…this is not destruction, but it is more…grand than destruction.” Wonder Woman Diana looked up abruptly, her Lasso of Truth tightening unconsciously.

Her eyes, usually so sharp at discerning lies, were now stung by the light. The Flash was eating a hot dog in Central City when he was suddenly choked by an alarm. He looked up and saw the sausage fall from his mouth. Aquaman rose from his Deep Sea Throne, his trident humming in his hand. The seawater around him boiled, and schools of fish scattered in panic.

Cyborg's electronic eyes flashed wildly, and warning windows kept popping up. Green Lantern Hal Jordan was on duty on Oa when his ring suddenly emitted an emergency alert from Earth.

"What's going on?" He built a giant telescope and saw the Earth being swallowed by white light. His heart almost stopped. At that moment, Batman's emergency communication was switched into everyone's earpieces.

"Everything that can fly, take off immediately! This is not a request, it's an order!"

Without hesitation, the heroes took to the air. Even those who couldn't fly used technological equipment to gather above the clouds, assuming a defensive stance against the overwhelming light.

"Can you stop it?" The Flash swallowed hard.

"We have to stop it even if we can't!" Green Lantern gritted his teeth, and his ring emitted the strongest green light.

The moment the light descended.

Everyone closed their eyes. At that moment, they all felt an overwhelming sense of powerlessness, a profound feeling of their own insignificance, and could only raise their hands in the hope of blocking the oncoming light.

Almost every hero felt they were doomed.

however.

The terrifying end they had imagined did not come. What they felt was not the shock of destruction, but a strange warmth, like a mother's embrace, or like the rising sun.

Wonder Woman opened her eyes and found her armor completely undamaged. "Are we alright?"

On Earth, people are equally perplexed. Couples on the street stop arguing and look up at the sky; patients in hospitals feel their pain lessen; even the thugs in Gotham's Crime Alley put down their guns.

I inexplicably helped the old lady pick up her dropped shopping bag.

Only Batman's surveillance footage revealed the shocking truth—the instant the white light touched the atmosphere, a transparent film quietly appeared.

It filters out all harmful radiation, leaving only the energy that symbolizes beauty and hope.

"Who made the move?"

Bruce pushed his wheelchair out of the Batcave and onto the streets of Gotham. The last rays of light illuminated his pale face, and his old wounds, which had not healed for years, suddenly stopped hurting.

In the sky, that mysterious thin film is dissipating, quietly disappearing as if it had completed its mission.

"who is it?"

Batman's voice was filled with shock.

"Who could do such a thing?"

He felt both relieved to have survived the ordeal and worried about his recurring paranoia. Of course, there was no answer to this question; only a small, pale hand slowly lowered itself in the alleyway, unknown to anyone.

"How am I doing?"

The boy, who looked to be about ten years old, turned around, his red cloak fluttering behind him.

“Very good, it seems you have absorbed the power of the ghost quite well, but…” The man in black robes was about to speak when a whooshing sound suddenly came from behind him.

"I heard it! I saw it!"

Amidst exaggerated gasps of surprise, a bald black man flew straight at them. The man in black robes only had time to shout, "Who are you!" before he was smashed to the ground by the clown wielding the archangel Amanadir as a human cannonball.

"Don't be afraid~"

While smashing the black-robed man with the angel's head, the clown comforted the boy, "This is my mount, occasionally serving as a murder weapon—trust me, you'll never find a more righteous murder weapon!"

He patted the bloodied and mangled "weapon" affectionately.

The boy tilted his head, looking at the scene of blood splattering everywhere, and even showed a curious expression.

"Why did you kill someone?"

He asked in a calm tone.

"Because—this is the best way to change your guardian! It avoids a lot of secular procedures. Yes, kid, don't look at me like that. You have no choice. I hereby announce that you have a new guardian. From now on, you are my child. Hmm, that's right. A child I find will definitely belong to my flesh and blood. I actually know who you are, Clark Kent from another universe."

"You will feel the fatherly love that I squeezed out of others and gave to you, I promise."

The clown, panting heavily, placed the head of the "weapon" on the ground. He was covered in blood, while the black-robed man, whom he had brutally beaten with the angel, was no longer human.

The boy didn't even flinch. The smell of blood was as normal to him as air.

“There are many Clark Kents in the multiverse,” he said calmly. “I prefer to bring myself to this universe to test the two Supermen who call me Superman the Supreme.”

A dangerous smile curled at the corners of the boy's mouth.

"Isn't that cool?"

He seemed quite satisfied with such a cringeworthy name, which was understandable, given that he was only ten years old, even younger than Ian, and naturally at the most cringeworthy time of his life.

"I love your smugness!"

The clown clapped and laughed, "By the way, are you coming with me yourself, or should I 'help' you come with me?"

He was eager to try.

The boy who called himself Superman Supreme raised an eyebrow. If Ian were here, he might recognize his origins: Superman Supreme originated from Earth, a parallel universe that existed before the "Crisis on Infinite Earths." In this universe, Superman, Batman, and other superheroes are fictional characters from comic books.

He was the only real Kryptonian.

He is also the fastest-growing superhuman in the multiverse, gaining power sufficient to contend with the Anti-Monitor in a short period of time, and possessing what is said to be the most "overpowered" potential.

obviously.

The so-called Supreme Council wanted to use the body of this underage Supreme Superman to contain the power called "Ghost," which was the true supreme power.

"You want to take me away? To give me love? Forgive my bluntness, but you're asking for trouble." The boy looked at the corpse on the ground; it wasn't his guardian, but his keeper.

"I know far more than you, far more than Batman," the Joker said, magically producing a sack. "I will be the most powerful Joker, and all those Laughing Batmen will have to be pushed into the gutter."

The boy didn't resist the moment the sack was placed over him.

"Every clown is as confident as you."

His voice came out in a muffled tone.

"Oh? Is that so?" The clown hoisted the sack and dragged the angel he had been bewitching for days. "We'll see. I don't believe every clown has voluntarily contracted the Ian virus."

The streets of Gotham were miraculously deserted. Everyone felt they had done a good deed and something was amiss, so they all rushed towards Arkham to get some medicine. As the Joker hummed a song and walked past an office building, the night wind whipped up the bloodstains on his clothes, and a few dark red spots drifted toward the glass curtain wall bearing the word "Museum."

A few drops of scarlet blood slowly slid down the stained glass windows of the history museum. Moonlight filtered through the bloodstains, casting spiderweb-like shadows on the floor of the Egyptian exhibit.

The blood droplets that were drifting by were about to drip onto the windowsill.

Suddenly, it seemed to wriggle upwards against gravity, squeezing through the window frame gaps like a living thing. One drop, two drops, three drops. It kept "moving" in the blind spot of the surveillance camera.

"what happened?"

"Why, why is this happening?"

"It's the effect of that mysterious light in the sky just now!"

"Oh, God"

The white-haired professor trembled as he touched the scalding hot coffin lid.

"These Egyptian inscriptions are being reassembled!"

In the center of the exhibition area, a stone coffin, glowing as if illuminated by Superman's light, was humming. Archaeologists gathered around it, their instruments showing that the radiation levels inside the coffin had spiked to a critical point.

“Incredible…the previous light changed its molecular structure!” A white-haired professor trembled as he recorded.

"No, it's activated some kind of dormant energy!" the young assistant exclaimed. They didn't notice that the drop of blood from space had quietly landed on the marble floor and begun to wriggle.

No one noticed.

The blood droplets crawled along the stone coffin's relief carvings into the coffin, as if some unknown force was drawing them in—the blood droplets entered the coffin. In an instant, the coffin shattered!
Wood chips flew out like blades, and all the glass in the museum shattered instantly.

The shockwave knocked three scholars over, and debris rained down as if time had slowed down. From the smoke, a skeleton wrapped in a shroud slowly sat up.

Dark energy surged from its hollow eye sockets.

The skeleton's gaze swept over the terrified crowd. It raised a finger bone, and a drop of blood was meandering along its cervical spine—wherever it passed, the withered muscle fibers wriggled and regenerated like snakes.

Outside the museum's glass dome, Gotham's night sky was suddenly filled with lightning and thunder. As the smoke slowly dissipated, a mutilated figure emerged from a shattered coffin.

He slowly raised his hand, his fingers spread, as if to feel the long-lost air.

"I was trapped in a nightmare... for a very, very long time..." The voice of the mysterious being, whose flesh and blood were torn apart, was low and hoarse, carrying weariness and violence that spanned thousands of years.

“Now… I, Tes-Adam, have returned.” He looked down at his regenerated body—flesh and blood were growing and covering his skull at a visible speed, muscles bulging, brimming with explosive power. And the black clothes, as if an extension of his will, rose and fell slightly with his breath.

"Born to me by nightmares..."

Before he finished speaking, he suddenly looked up, and all the scholars in his sight, regardless of age, gender, or distance, froze in place.

Their eyes were instantly dyed the same color as the men's, turning them into puppets—the ancient king looked out the window, the changed world making him feel alienated.

but.

"I will dye it the color I want, assuring the nightmare..." Black Adam hovered in front of the glass window, gazing at the street outside and murmuring softly.

It's like having a conversation with something.

……

Earth's crisis has been resolved, but in space, two Supermen are still fighting fiercely, with Ian, who has just recovered, carrying the unconscious Injustice Superman.

He swallowed hard, watching the two figures gradually disappear into the distance. His father and his opponent were locked in a fierce battle, so Ian had no chance or right to intervene.

"This isn't a fight, it's like they're trying to obliterate the very foundations of the universe!" Ian watched the two figures gradually disappear into the distance, feeling as if two Supermen were locked in a fierce battle in the cosmos.

That's normal. After all, everyone is a superhuman with an ideal mind. If you round it off, it's equivalent to everyone being an ordinary superhuman. So it's reasonable that the battle is not only massive but also a little difficult to decide.

The starry sky is mourning.

The two glowing Supermen looked ready to fight to the very edge of the universe—of course, Ian was wrong; Darkseid, who was in his own lair contemplating the changes in the universe, could attest to that.

It's not about fighting to the very edge of the universe.

Because Darkseid looked up.

Then they saw two figures fighting on their territory.

this moment.

The bewildered cosmic overlord was really willing to open a betting pool across the entire universe to gamble on whether this was a deliberate act by the fighters.

(End of this chapter)