Clark made the decision quickly, transforming from his mild-mannered reporter appearance into the iconic blue and red of Superman. The Kryptonian family crest blazed across his chest as he intercepted Bruce's helicopter before it could fully land at the Wayne Enterprises helipad.
Bruce stepped onto the tarmac with obvious relief. He'd come to Metropolis specifically to find Superman, but having the hero approach him directly saved considerable time and effort.
"Perfect timing," Bruce thought. Marcus had undoubtedly briefed Clark about the demonic threat, which meant they could skip the lengthy explanations and move straight to coordination.
"Hello, Superman," Bruce called out formally, studying the alien who'd fought alongside him against Zod's forces.
"Hello, student of my godfather," Clark replied with a warm smile that somehow made his otherworldly power seem more approachable.
"You can call me Bruce," the billionaire said, gesturing toward the Wayne Enterprises building beneath their feet. "After all, you're standing on my property right now."
"Fair enough. And you can call me Clark. Clark Kent."
"Not Kal-El?" Bruce asked, remembering the Kryptonian name from their previous encounters.
"That's my birth name, but Clark is who I choose to be. It's the name my parents gave me when they found me."
The brief exchange established a more personal foundation between them. Both men recognized they'd be working together frequently in the coming crisis, and formal titles would only create unnecessary distance.
Bruce gestured toward the building's entrance. "Since you're here, why don't we discuss this properly inside? I came to find you anyway."
They moved into a secure conference room where Bruce activated privacy shields designed to prevent electronic surveillance. What they were about to discuss couldn't risk being overheard by hostile forces.
"Marcus briefed you about the demon situation?" Bruce began without preamble.
Clark nodded, though uncertainty flickered across his features. "He explained the basics, but I have to admit – demons? It's hard to accept that creatures from literal Hell are being summoned into our world."
Bruce understood the struggle. Despite everything he'd witnessed as Batman, accepting supernatural threats required a fundamental shift in worldview.
"Consider your own abilities," Bruce pointed out reasonably. "Alien heritage that grants you godlike powers, my teacher's mastery of forces that science can't explain, and now this."
Bruce's clothing suddenly blazed with pure white light, transforming into the elegant armor of his Incinerator Ring's activation. Divine energy flowed around him like visible virtue, demonstrating power that clearly transcended conventional understanding.
Clark's eyes widened at the display. The energy signature felt completely different from anything in his experience – not technological like his ship or the World Engine, but something that resonated on a spiritual level.
"This is the Incinerator Ring Marcus created for us," Bruce explained, deactivating the transformation. "It channels divine power specifically designed to counter demonic forces. Heaven and Hell are real, Clark, and the war between them has reached Earth."
The demonstration provided the proof Clark needed to accept what his rational mind had been rejecting. If Bruce possessed genuine divine power, then supernatural threats were undeniably real.
"I came to Metropolis specifically to request your help," Bruce continued, his tone growing more urgent. "Our intelligence indicates the demon summoning organization has escalated to creatures called Devourers. Constantine barely survived his encounter with one, and that was with full divine enhancement and magical artifacts."
Clark's expression grew serious. "You need someone with my level of power to handle threats that divine power alone can't stop."
"Exactly. Your strength and invulnerability make you our best option for containing demons that could devastate entire city blocks. When conventional heroes encounter something beyond their capabilities, you're our backup plan."
The responsibility was sobering, but Clark had been raised to use his abilities in service of others. If demons posed a genuine threat to innocent people, he had no choice but to act.
"Count me in," Clark said firmly. "If you encounter demons too powerful for normal methods, contact me immediately. I'll respond as quickly as possible."
Bruce felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Having Superman as an ally dramatically improved their chances of containing the escalating supernatural crisis.
"There are others we need to recruit," Bruce continued. "Intelligence suggests heroes are emerging in other cities – people who might be facing these threats without understanding what they're dealing with."
Clark nodded thoughtfully. "Star City has reports of a vigilante archer, and Central City has rumors about someone with superhuman speed. If demons are being summoned nationwide, these individuals are at serious risk."
"Star City is my next stop," Bruce confirmed. "An archer with conventional equipment won't survive against a Devourer-class demon. Better to warn him before he encounters something that can't be stopped with arrows."
They spent several more minutes coordinating communication protocols and emergency response procedures. By the time Bruce departed for Gotham, both men felt confident they could respond effectively to supernatural threats across multiple cities.
Meanwhile, in Star City...
Oliver Queen moved through the urban landscape with practiced grace, his grappling arrows carrying him between buildings as he patrolled for criminal activity. The green hood and leather costume had become a symbol of hope in Star City's darker neighborhoods, where ordinary law enforcement often proved inadequate.
A column of thick black smoke rising from the warehouse district caught his attention immediately. The darkness was too dense and localized for an ordinary fire, suggesting something more sinister was occurring.
Oliver swung toward the source, expecting to find an arson case or illegal industrial activity. Instead, he discovered something that challenged his understanding of reality itself.
The "smoke" was actually a massive creature covered in dark, scale-like skin. Horn-like protrusions jutted from its skull, while bone spurs erupted from its limbs at unnatural angles. The monster was systematically devouring human remains, tearing flesh from bone with obvious relish.
"What the hell is that thing?" Oliver whispered, drawing his bow instinctively.
The creature's appearance defied every category in his mental database of threats. Gang members, corrupt corporations, even enhanced criminals – nothing had prepared him for encountering what appeared to be a literal demon in downtown Star City.
Oliver nocked an arrow and aimed for the creature's eye, one of the few areas not protected by its armored hide. The shot was perfect, the arrow flying true toward its target.
The demon caught the projectile effortlessly, crushing the carbon-fiber shaft in its claws without even looking up from its meal.
"Impossible," Oliver breathed, recognizing that his primary weapon was essentially useless against this opponent.
The creature raised its massive fists and brought them down on the concrete with earth-shaking force. Cracks spider-webbed outward from the impact point, demonstrating strength that could level buildings if properly applied.
Oliver activated his grappling arrow and fled at maximum speed, firing a crossbow bolt over his shoulder to maintain the creature's attention. If he couldn't defeat it, he could at least draw it away from populated areas.
The demon roared and began pursuit, its powerful legs carrying it forward with shocking speed. What had seemed like a sluggish creature was actually capable of matching Oliver's escape velocity.
They reached the outskirts of Star City before Oliver's stamina began to flag. He'd commandeered a motorcycle to maintain his lead, but the demon showed no signs of fatigue despite running dozens of miles.
The creature suddenly launched itself into the air, massive claws extended toward Oliver's position. At that moment, Oliver realized his death was inevitable – he couldn't outrun the demon, and his weapons were useless against it.
Then automatic weapons fire erupted from the sky.
A sleek aircraft strafed the demon with high-caliber ammunition, the impacts sending the creature tumbling to the ground. Oliver looked up to see a bat-shaped fighter that belonged in a military arsenal rather than civilian hands.
The pilot's voice came through external speakers: "Conventional weapons aren't enough for demons of this power level."
White light suddenly enveloped the aircraft's weapon systems. When the guns fired again, each bullet blazed with divine energy that carved through the demon's hide like tissue paper. Within seconds, the creature was reduced to smoking fragments.
Oliver stared at the destruction in amazement. Whoever was piloting that aircraft not only knew about demons, but possessed weapons specifically designed to destroy them.
As the fighter circled back toward his position, Oliver realized his worldview was about to expand in ways he'd never imagined possible.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Writing takes time, coffee, and a lot of love.If you'd like to support my work, join me at [email protected]/GoldenGaruda
You'll get early access to over 50 chapters, selection on new series, and the satisfaction of knowing your support directly fuels more stories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~