~ Support & Read 11 Advanced Chapters on My Patreon!
Roger moved swiftly through space, his trajectory sharp and precise. Doomsday seed to sense the imminent threat and pursued him relentlessly, continuing to fire red energy beams from its eyes.
This ti, Roger didn't bother dodging the beams. In fact, he deliberately allowed them to strike him, using the montum from the blasts to propel himself even faster toward the missile.
The missile was a dud—it wouldn't explode even on impact, as its sole purpose was to deliver the Kryptonite spear. Roger knew this, so he didn't bother avoiding it. Instead, he ramd straight into the missile, shattering it and grasping the Kryptonite spear within.
As soon as the spear was in his grasp, Roger turned to face Doomsday, his voice roaring through the vacuum of space:
"The ga's over now!!!"
Of course, in the soundless void of space, his roar was nothing more than silent lip movent. But he was certain Doomsday understood the intent behind his words.
The pursuing Doomsday and the spear-wielding Roger collided violently in the cosmos.
There was no deafening sound, no blinding explosion resembling the sun. Only the crimson energy burst forth from Doomsday's body as Roger drove the Kryptonite spear into its chest once again.
The scene was like a silent tragedy unfolding in the vacuum of space.
This silent story concluded with Doomsday's heart pierced by the Kryptonite spear, its monstrous energy dissipating into nothingness.
By all rights, the real Doomsday should have developed immunity to Kryptonite after the first encounter.
But this was not the original Doomsday. It was rely a counterfeit, a creature created by Lex Luthor.
The real Doomsday had once co close to annihilating Krypton itself, a nace that even the collective might of the Kryptonians could not defeat, hence earning its apocalyptic na.
This Doomsday, however, clearly lacked the power to destroy a planet.
Of course, even if it did, Roger had now snuffed it out in the cradle.
Once he confird that the life force of Doomsday had completely dissipated, Roger wasted no ti. He stuffed the lifeless body into his spatial bracelet, spear in hand, and flew back toward Earth's atmosphere, aiming for Gotham.
The speed and precision of the Kryptonite spear's delivery, the ability to calculate the exact trajectory, and the initiative to launch a rocket-powered dummy missile to deliver the weapon—there was only one person Roger could think of who could pull off such a feat.
Batman. Bruce Wayne.
Only Bruce had the resourcefulness, the intellect, and the action-oriented mindset to make sothing like this happen.
Roger needed to find Bruce Wayne now.
The Kryptonite spear's presence indicated that the tiline was sowhere post-Batman v Superman. Superman might already be dead or perhaps recently resurrected.
Though Roger wasn't entirely sure of the exact timing, one thing was certain: Darkseid had not yet arrived. If Roger could inform Batman and the others to start preparing now, Earth might stand a chance against Darkseid's invasion.
Perhaps they could even recreate the alliance of the ancient tis—uniting humans, Atlanteans, and Amazonians to repel Darkseid's forces.
As Roger sped toward Gotham, he paused mid-flight, his trajectory halting abruptly when he caught sight of tropolis.
The Superman statue had been shattered—Roger knew this was the aftermath of the battle between Superman and Doomsday.
But what truly caught his attention weren't the remains of Superman's statue. It was the two other broken statues nearby.
One depicted Jean Grey. The other... himself.
A monunt to DC's so-called "Wonder Girl" and "Black Superman," their statues stood as silent proof of Roger's previous ti in this world.
"This... is the DC world I've been to before?"
Roger floated in the air, stunned by the realization. He lingered in silence for a long ti before finally descending, landing directly at Wayne Manor.
Inside, Bruce Wayne was waiting.
Having calculated Roger's trajectory, Bruce had been prepared for his arrival. Watching Roger descend, his expression was complicated as he greeted him:
"It's been a long ti, Black Superman."
"Bruce…" Roger began, intending to say sothing. But realizing this DC world was the sa one he had visited before, his words caught in his throat.
After a brief pause, he shifted the topic. "You didn't trust Superman, did you?"
"You've figured it out."
"I saw the shattered statues in tropolis. I saw Superman's grave. Bruce, I'm certain I told you before—Superman is this world's hope. Killing Superman would plunge this world into unimaginable danger. I know I told you this."
"You did."
"And yet you didn't listen to ."
"I didn't."
Bruce didn't deny it.
He had ignored Roger's warnings, doubted both Superman and Roger, and his actions had ultimately led to Superman's sacrificial battle against Doomsday. This was a decision Bruce deeply regretted.
Roger's expression darkened, his gaze smoldering with barely contained anger as he stared at Bruce, fists clenched.
Bruce, noticing the tension, remarked calmly, "You seem very angry."
"Angry? Oh, I'm beyond angry. I'm furious enough to want to crush you with my bare hands!" Roger growled, his voice low and simring.
Bruce could hear the sheer rage in Roger's tone.
Before Bruce could respond, Roger continued:
"Do you have any idea where I've been all this ti? What I've gone through? Let tell you—I've been forced to save two other worlds and then ended up in your future. I saw the devastation that awaited this world!"
Roger's body floated upward until he was face-to-face with Bruce.
"I wanted to help you all. And I did help you all. But you, Bruce Wayne—whether it's the you of the present or the future—you never trusted !
"I understand you. You're soone who doubts everyone, no matter how trustworthy they appear. That's just who you are. But for to fight villains in another world, bring warnings from the future, and then return to find Superman dead and this world defenseless... it's beyond infuriating!"
Roger's eyes glowed with heat vision, threatening to ignite.
Bruce stood his ground, showing no intention of dodging, as if he were prepared to accept whatever punishnt Roger deed fit.
Looking directly into Roger's eyes, Bruce said solemnly, "I know I made a mistake. Superman showed that my actions were wrong. That's why I'm working to fix them now. I'm forming a team, a team that can protect Earth. I want to fulfill Superman's legacy—his hope that we can unite."
"No need."
The red light in Roger's eyes dimd as he coldly replied.
"Superman is dead. Staying here serves no purpose for . Besides, I'm sure you've already heard the warnings about the future from the Flash."
"…Who?"
Hearing an unfamiliar na, Bruce looked confused.
Roger clarified, "One of your future teammates. He risked his life traveling back in ti to deliver a ssage—to trust Superman. But it seems he failed. And so did I."
Bruce frowned, recalling a vivid dream he had had before the fight with Superman. In it, a man clad in red armor erged from a tunnel, trying to warn him about sothing.
Back then, Bruce didn't fully understand the ssage. It was only after Superman's death that the pieces began to fall into place, though by then, it was too late.
"Can you tell more about the future?" Bruce asked hesitantly.
Roger shook his head, the weight of frustration and exhaustion evident in his tone. "I'm not in the mood to talk to you. Maybe soday when I feel like it, we'll have this conversation. Goodbye, Bruce Wayne. Oh, and one more thing—thank you for the Kryptonite spear. Here, take it back."
Roger tossed the Kryptonite spear to Bruce and shot into the sky, disappearing from sight.
Bruce looked up at the fading white trail in the sky, clutching the spear tightly. After a long silence, he muttered to himself:
"Kryptonite doesn't work on him. So... he really isn't Kryptonian."
...
Roger left Gotham and returned to the small house he and Jean Grey had once borrowed near tropolis.
Using Athena, he hacked into the world's network to create a fabricated identity for himself. Only after ensuring his cover was secure did he finally lie down on the bed and let out a long sigh.
"Heart rate elevated. Roger, you need to calm down," Athena's voice broke the silence.
Roger exhaled sharply, muttering, "I'm calm."
"According to my analysis—"
"If I weren't calm, I would've blown Batman's head off!" Roger retorted.
Though he knew that killing Bruce Wayne would probably result in so mysterious, overpowered entity showing up to retaliate, the thought had genuinely crossed his mind.
From fighting Ultron, to battling Superman, and then taking on Doomsday—all within less than a week. Roger's stress levels were through the roof.
But being the laid-back, easygoing person he was, Roger had learned to manage his emotions and find ways to relax.
Even so, learning of Superman's death and Bruce's distrust had pushed his blood pressure to dangerous levels.
Roger knew Bruce's nature—he trusted no one, not even himself. No matter what Roger said, Bruce would only believe what he could see or test for himself.
Roger understood this. But understanding and accepting were two different things.
"Maybe I'm not just mad at Bruce," Roger muttered to himself. "Maybe I'm mad at myself—for not thinking ahead."
If he had been more cautious, gathered all the Kryptonite, taken Zod's corpse, or even eliminated Lex Luthor outright, perhaps things would've turned out differently.
But now, Superman's death was a fixed reality. The threat of Steppenwolf lood over Earth.
Roger sighed, letting himself sink deeper into the bed's comforting embrace.
"For now, I need to rest."
With those words, Roger finally drifted off into a deep sleep.
Support & Read 11 Advanced Chapters. Ahead of the rest!
sp-atreon/dragonnx
(Just remove the hyphen to access Patreon normally.)
There is 9 Exciting Fanfics already available on my Patreon!
Reviews
All reviews (0)