Clark was no match for the Martian Manhunter's power. He was hurled through the air, smashing into a deck railing before crashing into the sea.
The good news was that the infected Martian Manhunter, having lost his mind, wasn't using his powerful psychic abilities. The bad news was that Clark was still no match for his sheer strength.
Clark was pinned to the seabed. He tried to fight back with his heat vision, but just like when Jonathan had fought Black Adam, it had no effect. The Martian Manhunter, under the virus's control, instinctively used his shapeshifting ability to transform. His body swelled into a massive, four-meter-tall green monster, eerily reminiscent of Doomsday. With this newfound size came immense power.
Clark was pressed down by a single hand. The pressure on his chest was crushing—a sensation he had never felt before as a Kryptonian. He knew his body was reaching its limit; any more pressure, and he would be turned into mincemeat.
He wanted to call for help, to reach his father, Superman, but as he opened his mouth, the Martian Manhunter used his other hand to slam Clark's head into the seabed, burying him under a pile of rubble and silencing him completely.
Even if Superman had heard the sounds of their battle, in the midst of so many cries for help, he likely wouldn't have been able to tell something was wrong. He probably would have assumed the Martian Manhunter was just fighting the infected.
Dying. That was the only thought in Clark's mind. When Black Adam's magic lightning had struck him, he'd only felt pain, but now, he felt death looming. Maybe death was a good thing. The sea was polluted with the blood of countless infected people.
A scarlet cloud was approaching him, and he knew that if the virus entered his body through his ears, nose, or any other opening, he would become a Kryptonian infected—a terrifying threat. It might be better to die now than to become one of them.
Just as he was about to give up, a green energy beam shot out, hitting the monstrous Martian Manhunter and knocking him away.
"Superman doesn't give up so easily."
"Mr. Luthor!"
The familiar voice made Clark turn his head. His savior was not Superman or Wonder Woman, but Lex Luthor, wearing his Kryptonite armor. Luthor reached out a hand.
"Get out of here quickly. You don't want to get infected like that."
"Got it."
Clark and Luthor flew out of the sea together, but the Martian Manhunter burst from the water and pursued them.
"Leave him to me!"
Luthor, acting uncharacteristically heroic, stood in front of Clark and charged at the Martian Manhunter. But he was easily swatted away and sent crashing onto the port's shore.
"Is this a joke?" Clark muttered. He knew a little about the Martian Manhunter, but he knew more about Luthor, who often appeared in the same comics as Superman. Luthor's suit was designed to fight Superman using the weakening effects of Kryptonite—which Martians weren't affected by at all.
Before he could finish his thought, the Martian Manhunter, having swatted Luthor away, came charging at him. His sharp claws moved with a speed Clark couldn't dodge.
"Oh no!"
Clark quickly raised his arm to block, but against the Martian Manhunter's immense power, it was a useless gesture. The attack would not only injure him but also leave him vulnerable to the virus.
Yet, just as the blow was about to land, the Martian Manhunter froze. The scarlet glow in his eyes, caused by the Anti-Life Equation, flickered and was replaced by a moment of clarity.
"Martian Manhunter... you..."
Though it was only for a second, Clark saw the man's sanity return.
"Aaaah!"
The Martian Manhunter's body shrank back to its normal size as he clutched his head and screamed.
"Run, now!"
The red glow in his eyes was unstable, showing that he couldn't hold off the virus for long. His brief moment of lucidity was his limit. But he knew that if Clark ran, he would only lead the virus to more people. No hero would abandon the survivors.
The Martian Manhunter's moment of clarity had given him insight into the virus. It controlled the infected and compelled them to spread death, but it allowed them to use any method to achieve that goal.
This was why the infected Black Witch, Eve, had led her followers to retreat—as long as the retreat was to destroy life elsewhere, the Anti-Life Equation wouldn't stop her.
This gave the Martian Manhunter an idea. He used his hypnotic powers to plant a suggestion in his own mind: to wait for an opportunity. With that, he let the virus take over again. With his eyes glowing red, he didn't attack Clark, but instead flew away.
He had hypnotized himself to use his phasing ability to hide and wait for a chance to infect other heroes. It was a roundabout way of forcing his infected self to leave the battlefield.
"What just happened?" Clark wondered. He had no idea of the Martian Manhunter's plan, nor could he tell anyone.
Luthor, who had just recovered, flew up and patted Clark on the shoulder.
"As much as I hate to admit it," he said, "the heroes of the Justice League all possess noble character. I'm sure he found a way to control himself in that brief moment of sanity."