Lex Luthor was composed and refined. His expression was solemn and unsmiling, always exuding a commanding presence. Every word and movement carried an oppressive weight.
A massive shadow loomed before him.
Gorilla Grodd, over two and a half meters tall, stood beside Deathstroke, his immense frame casting both of them into shadow. A heavy, pungent odor of sweat clung to his body.
Grodd had been cramped in the van, sweating profusely, the musky scent of beast lingering in the air.
"We shouldn't be meeting," Luthor said as he glanced coldly at Deathstroke and Grodd. The cigar in his hand was pressed into the ashtray resting on a trash bin, extinguishing the ember with a faint sizzle.
For years, Luthor had covertly supplied Deathstroke with equipment and support.
They had never met in person, never spoken directly. Everything had been conducted through dead drops, anonymous couriers, or coded signals. Even Batman hadn't uncovered that Deathstroke had always been loyal to Bardi.
"Fine, Luthor. The last resistance forces on Earth have been crushed. There's no way to fight back."
"I want recognition—credit and status."
Deathstroke stood tall in his promethium mesh armor, fully armed. Twin swords crossed his back, a pistol strapped to his thigh, his mask split into yellow and black with twin ribbons fluttering behind. He was the embodiment of a cold, professional killer.
"If Barmulodi doesn't give me what you promised, then I'll take the world from him myself."
"Ruling the world looks pretty easy right about now."
Gorilla Grodd bared his fangs in a grin. Yellowed teeth glistened beneath his twisted expression.
Sunlight spilled behind him, illuminating his sweat-drenched frame and intensifying the beastly stench that filled the air.
A low, psychic voice echoed directly in Luthor's mind.
Luthor frowned, then chuckled as he glanced at the towering gorilla.
A mind-controlling ape?
He raised his right wrist, glanced at his watch, and pressed a nearly invisible button—activating a mental shield to block intrusions.
"If you're going to introduce your pet to His Majesty, make sure it bathes, brushes its teeth, and puts on a tie."
Luthor's tone was ice-cold. The gorilla's stench was intolerable, and he wasn't above commenting on it.
"His Majesty isn't here."
Grodd snarled in fury. "ROAR!!" He bared his fangs and howled at Luthor. Shockwaves pulsed through the air. His mountain-sized frame loomed over Luthor, staring down in rage.
He took Luthor's tone as an insult.
Grodd believed he was meeting Barmulodi as an equal—a king-to-king encounter. His Gorilla City warriors were ready to rise from Africa and march across the world.
He hadn't even seen Barmulodi yet, and already one of his underlings dared speak to him this way?
In truth, Grodd had been lured into this alliance by Deathstroke.
Of course, once Grodd met Bardi, if he didn't submit, he would be eliminated. But if he did, Deathstroke would gain a powerful ally. Either outcome was acceptable.
As Earth's new rulers began to divide the spoils, building alliances was essential.
"You're not qualified to command me!"
"Grodd will rule the world!"
"You... should kneel!"
Grodd bared his teeth and unleashed a wave of psychic power, distorting the air around him.
But Luthor's tech was far superior. Grodd's mind control had no effect.
Grodd paused. Why wasn't it working?
"Enough, Grodd!"
Deathstroke's voice cut in, cold and sharp, stopping Grodd before he could lash out. He hadn't brought Grodd here to fight Luthor. Luthor was still an essential human element in their larger alliance.
Grodd, highly intelligent even by human standards, hesitated. At Deathstroke's command, he pulled back.
Luthor remained still, expressionless, completely unfazed by Grodd's outburst.
His calm only made Grodd more agitated.
He really wanted to punch that shiny bald head.
BOOM!
Suddenly, high above the Emperor Building, a window exploded outward. A massive fireball erupted from within.
A scream tore through the air from above, raw and full of agony.
"Run! It's a trap!"
The voice—desperate, broken—pierced straight into the heart. And then it was gone. The cry echoed through the building, shaking its foundations.
The sound was shrill, chilling, unforgettable.
The sun reflected off the glittering glass curtain wall.
A green figure sprinted up the exterior of the Emperor Building, darting across the mirrored surface like a fox.
Above, in the blue sky, a black fighter jet tore through the clouds, leaving a white contrail as it approached from the east.
Suddenly—
Grodd bared his teeth, glaring at Luthor in rage and mockery.
BOOM!
The ground beneath Luthor and Deathstroke collapsed. Pipes burst. Water sprayed into the air as the pavement cracked.
The two men stood firm in the gushing crater.
Above them—
Grodd leapt several hundred meters, crashing into the side of the Emperor Building. Glass rained down in sheets.
He continued jumping upward, smashing massive craters into the walls, until he reached the top of the tower.
The black fighter jet hovered above, sunlight glinting off its fuselage. Its shadow cast a sinister tone across the scene.
The green figure leaped toward the jet.
But Grodd wasn't letting her escape.
He reached the roof, activating his mind control to disrupt the pilot.
The plane shuddered, nearly crashing.
Grodd grabbed hold of the aircraft, slammed it down onto the roof of the building, and roared with savage fury.
He ripped into the jet, tearing it apart with brute force. Blood spattered the rooftop as he shredded the machine in two.
Now standing atop the tallest building on Earth, Grodd beat his chest and roared triumphantly.
"GRODD! WILL BE KING!"
His mental signal exploded from the rooftop, rippling through the air in waves.
Just then—
A searing beam of light shot from the sky. Fiery red, crackling with energy, it seemed to pierce the atmosphere from deep space.
A massive particle stream, glowing hot, tore through the clouds and struck Grodd directly.
In an instant—
Grodd's enormous body was hurled downward at speeds exceeding Mach 100.
Before Luthor and Deathstroke, the great ape was blasted into the ground and buried halfway to the planet's core—utterly annihilated.
...
White House, Oval Office.
The President of the United States stared at the monitor in horror as the global communications network collapsed.
One by one, the calls dropped.
Panic seized him. His body went cold.
"What's happening?! What's going on?!"
"Run!!"
"We've lost…"
"Barmulodi is… unstoppable…"
"We're not worthy to fight him…"
"Ahhh—!!"
One by one, the world's leaders—representatives of the UK, France, Germany, Russia—screamed before their signals cut out.
Dead.
Cold sweat drenched the President. Terror filled his eyes as the screen went black.
And then—
The last connection. The East… disconnected.
He slumped into his chair, his body like clay.
It was over.
The red door of the Oval Office creaked open.
Amanda Waller stepped inside, heels clicking softly on the carpet. She raised her hand and snapped her fingers, her figure entering the President's view.
She drew an M9 pistol.
Her face was icy. The President stared at her, his eyes already lifeless.
"Mr. President, you're tired. Rest now."
Boom…
(To be continued.)
***
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