CHAPTER 134 — Diana
The Batwing shook violently as it cut through the night sky.
Inside the cockpit, warning lights flashed red across the control panels. Alarms blared in sharp bursts, each one calling attention to another system failure. One side of the aircraft was damaged badly, part of the wing torn away by heavy fire. Air rushed unevenly around the frame, pulling the Batwing off balance.
Batman did not panic.
His hands stayed firm on the controls. His breathing remained slow and steady. Panic wasted time, and time was something he could not afford.
He switched the Batwing into emergency power mode.
Secondary engines came online with a deep hum, pushing against the air with uneven strength. Stabilizers deployed from the underside of the craft, adjusting constantly to keep the Batwing from spinning out of control. The aircraft shuddered again, but this time it held.
Batman overrode the automated landing system.
Autopilot would try to bring the Batwing down smoothly, slowly, carefully. That would get him killed. The sky was not safe, and the ground was worse.
He took manual control.
Below him, Metropolis burned in scattered pockets of fire and smoke. Streets were dark from the blackout. Emergency lights flickered in broken lines. The city looked wounded.
Batman scanned the rooftops ahead.
He needed a place to land. Somewhere high, open, and solid enough to support a damaged aircraft. His eyes locked onto a tall office building several blocks away. Its rooftop was wide, flat, and clear of debris.
That would work.
He angled the Batwing downward and began a careful descent.
At the same moment, something else locked onto him.
Far below, the Dreadnought turned its massive frame upward. Heavy metal joints whined as its weapon system adjusted. The gatling cannon rotated slowly at first, then faster, locking onto the Batwing's heat and motion.
The targeting was calm.
Precise.
Relentless.
Batman saw the power spike on his sensors.
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.
The Dreadnought opened fire.
The sound was not sharp like gunfire. It was deep and crushing, like the sky itself was tearing apart. Massive rounds tore upward, ripping through the air in long, glowing lines.
Batman pulled hard on the controls.
The Batwing dipped, rolled, and climbed all at once. Rounds passed close enough to rattle the cockpit. One clipped the air beside him, sending shockwaves through the hull.
He avoided the direct hits.
The building did not.
The rooftop he had chosen exploded as the rounds struck it. Concrete shattered into clouds of dust. Steel supports screamed as they bent and snapped. Large chunks of the roof collapsed inward, falling through the floors below like a waterfall of stone and metal.
Batman watched it happen in seconds.
Landing there would kill him.
The building could not take sustained fire like this. Nothing short of a bunker could.
He aborted the landing.
The Batwing surged upward as he pulled back hard. Debris scraped along the damaged wing, sparks flashing past the cockpit windows. The aircraft barely cleared the collapsing rooftop.
Behind him, the building gave way completely. The rooftop caved in, followed by the floors beneath it. The Dreadnought's fire erased the landing zone as if it had never existed.
Then, suddenly, the gunfire stopped.
No more thunder.
No more tearing metal.
Only smoke, falling debris, and the echo of destruction drifting through the night.
Batman did not relax.
He circled carefully, keeping distance while scanning with every sensor he had. Visual confirmation followed. Heat readings dropped. No new targeting lock formed.
The Dreadnought had stopped firing at him.
Batman understood why almost immediately.
Ammunition was not endless. Even a machine like that could not waste it. He was moving, evasive, and no longer an immediate threat. The Dreadnought had chosen to conserve its firepower.
Batman used the moment.
He spotted another building farther away, slightly lower, but shielded from a direct line of fire. He brought the Batwing in fast, cutting speed at the last second.
The landing was rough.
The Batwing slammed onto the rooftop, skidding across concrete before grinding to a halt. Batman shut down the damaged systems and cut power to the failing wing.
The aircraft hissed and groaned as it cooled.
Batman stepped out onto the rooftop and looked back toward the battlefield.
This was not Gotham.
These were not criminals hiding in alleys or rooftops. These were soldiers. Disciplined. Trained. Armed for war.
They would not hesitate.
They would not make mistakes out of fear or anger.
If he held back, he would die.
If he misjudged even once, he would die.
Batman turned back to the Batwing and opened its weapon compartments.
He removed a heavy sniper rifle and loaded armor-piercing rounds into the magazine. The weapon was heavier than what he normally carried, built for precision and force rather than speed.
He took position near the edge of the rooftop and studied the enemy below.
Four armored figures moved with purpose through the streets. Titus walked at the rear, pulling the truck. In front of him, three Bladeguard advanced with shields raised and bolters ready. Behind them all came the Dreadnought.
Batman focused on one of the Bladeguard.
Shield in one hand. Bolter in the other.
He examined the armor carefully. Thick plates covered most of the body. The neck guard was strong, layered to protect from strikes at ground level.
But from above, there was a narrow angle.
A possible weak point.
Batman steadied his breathing.
His finger tightened on the trigger.
He fired.
The shot cracked through the air.
The Bladeguard reacted instantly.
He did not look toward Batman. He did not hesitate. He raised his shield on instinct alone.
The round slammed into the shield and shattered, spraying fragments harmlessly aside.
Batman already knew what that meant.
Head-on penetration was impossible.
The Bladeguard shifted slightly and raised his bolter. Without seeing his target, he calculated the angle of the shot by sound and timing alone.
He fired.
Bolter rounds tore into the rooftop Batman had just occupied. Concrete exploded outward. The air filled with dust and fragments.
Batman was already moving.
He fired his grappling hook and launched himself into the darkness, clearing the edge of the building in one smooth motion. He vanished into the night before the return fire could track him.
He repositioned again.
And again.
Each time he fired, it was not to kill. It was to distract. To slow. To force the Ultramarines to react.
He knew the truth.
His shots were barely an inconvenience.
But he was not trying to win.
He was buying time.
The Batmobile was on its way, racing through the dark streets below. He needed heavier ground weapons if he was going to make any real difference here.
As he moved, Alfred's voice came through his earpiece, urgent but controlled.
"Master Bruce," Alfred said, "the energy convergence at the scout ship has completed."
Batman did not stop moving.
Bolter fire ripped through the spot he had occupied seconds earlier.
"What's the result?" Batman asked.
Alfred answered immediately.
"A creature has emerged, sir. Mr. Superman, Mr. Stark, and Lord Gaius are currently engaged with it. They appear evenly matched. The creature is being suppressed, but not defeated."
Batman slowed for half a second.
Evenly matched.
Those three together.
"What kind of monster does that?" he asked himself quietly.
Then the answer came to him.
"Doomsday," Batman said.
He remembered now. Gaius's purpose. The reason they had come to this world. It had never been Superman.
This monster was the real target.
Batman weighed his options as he moved across the rooftops.
Continue fighting the Ultramarines.
Slow them down, maybe, at great risk.
Or help against Doomsday.
A fight that could decide the fate of the city.
He knew the truth.
He was not prepared for this kind of ground war. His ammunition was dropping fast. One clean hit would end him.
Batman clenched the rifle he was carrying.
He made his choice.
He fired his grappling hook and moved in the direction Alfred guided him.
Across the city, the battle with Doomsday raged.
Gaius fought the creature head-on, using only his strength. He avoided his Power Fist on purpose. Every heavy blow made Doomsday stronger. Faster. More dangerous.
So he wrestled it instead.
Tony Stark fired controlled repulsor blasts, aiming to push, restrain, and disrupt rather than destroy. He adjusted constantly, working with Gaius to avoid repeating attacks.
They were buying time.
Waiting for the moment that mattered, a critical strike that would disable Doomsday like before, or at least severely injure it instead of making it stronger.
Tony looked up as Doomsday roared and slammed against Gaius's grip.
"Superman!" Tony shouted. "Go find Batman! Get the Kryptonian blade! And tell him not to fight Gaius's men!"
Superman nodded and took off, leaving the battlefield in a blur of motion.
With him gone, Gaius and Tony adjusted their tactics, keeping Doomsday contained without triggering rapid adaptation.
Then a helicopter approached.
At first, Tony thought it was another news crew getting too close again.
But it was a military helicopter.
Then he saw who was inside.
General Swanwick was at the controls. Standing beside him was Diana, fully armed, sword, shield, the lasso secured at her side.
The door opened.
Diana didn't hesitate. She leaped. Her body cut through the air with precision, unerringly aimed at Doomsday.
In one fluid motion, she descended and drove her sword down toward the creature.
Gaius, already locked in a brutal struggle with Doomsday, caught sight of her midair approach. Instinct and timing collided.
With a grunt, he shifted his weight and swung a precise kick against the creature's torso, using Doomsday's own momentum to send it hurtling toward Diana.
Doomsday roared, a sound that shook the ground beneath them, and swung an arm in retaliation.
Diana's blade met it. Steel bit into flesh, slicing clean through bone and sinew.
The arm crashed to the ground with a heavy thud.
For a moment, there was silence.
Then energy erupted from the wound. The flesh glowed like fire. The arm regenerated in seconds.
Doomsday roared again, releasing shockwaves of sound that rippled across the battlefield.
Tony, Gaius, and Diana stood side by side now.
General Swanwick didn't wait. He yanked the helicopter back, climbing sharply to avoid being within reach of the rampaging monster.
Doomsday stood, unbowed, its form crackling with jagged, lightning-like energy that ran along its muscles in chaotic arcs. Its eyes glowed, focused and unrelenting.
Then it drew itself inward, almost as if gathering every ounce of fury and energy it had, before exploding outward.
The blast radiated in all directions. Buildings trembled, streets fractured, chunks of asphalt and concrete shot into the air like missiles.
Metal frames of vehicles twisted, and dust clouds surged in every direction.
Tony dove instinctively behind Gaius, who raised his Iron Halo shields.
The energy shimmered outward, pushing the brunt of the debris aside with controlled force.
Diana crossed her bracelets, releasing a counter shockwave that protected her.
~~~
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