“It has to be him,” Batman replied, his gaze sharp.

“Alright,” Superman said, his voice tense. “We can talk about this later. Right now, we have to stop him from committing mass murder. We’ll split up: Diana, Hal, and Bruce, you’re with me to Belle Reve. Shazam, Flash, and Cyborg, you head to Rose Island.”

Cyborg’s fingers flew over his console.

“I’ve hacked their radio channel at Belle Reve. It seems he’s already begun the attack there. That means the one at Rose Island has to be a clone.”

“Then we need to move—fast,” Superman said, launching into the sky. Wonder Woman following him,

Green Lantern didn’t waste a second. He created a solid green energy bubble around Batman, lifting him effortlessly before streaking after Superman and Diana.

Shazam’s eyes crackled with lightning as he floated beside Flash and Cyborg. “Let’s move,” cyborg said said.

————

Mercy slammed her fingers against the keyboard, frustration etched across her face. A small bump throbbed on her forehead from where she had fallen moments ago, paralyzed by Max, but she barely registered the pain.

Although Mr. Luthor is out of commission, the plan will still go forward. If Pietro thinks he can just get away scot-free after what he did… he’s badly mistaken.

She pressed a few keys, and a loading bar crawled across the screen. Seconds later, dozens of surveillance feeds flooded her monitors. She scrolled rapidly, scanning camera after camera until she froze.

One feed showed Max carving his way through armed soldiers, a cythe in one hand and a war fan in the other, moving like a whirlwind of lethal precision. His attacks were brutal, efficient—merciless.

Mercy’s eyes narrowed. Without hesitation, she typed rapidly, the clatter of her keyboard sharp in the quiet of the control room. Within moments, the live footage of Max’s rampage was being uploaded and sent to multiple media companies across the globe.

She leaned back in her chair, a grim satisfaction curling at the edge of her lips.

Let the world see exactly what kind of a person Tobi really is.

Meanwhile, at Belle Reve…

Waller’s fingers flew across the keyboard, erasing years of sensitive files—her dark dealings, classified government records, every trace of corruption she could reach. She paused when she came across a particular file: the footage of Max, the one he had demanded she erase because it revealed his true identity without the mask. Of course, she had complied—but she had kept a backup.

A cold, devious thought flickered in her mind. Tonight, she would die. If that was certain, she could at least make things difficult for Pietro. Swiftly, she uploaded the footage, sending Max’s rampage to the public.

The building shook violently with explosions, men screamed in terror, and gunfire rattled the halls. She shut her laptop and staggered toward her cabinet as dust and debris rained from the ceiling. A portrait crashed to the floor, and she caught herself against the edge of the desk, shaking but unbroken.

Opening the cabinet, she retrieved a bottle of whiskey and a glass, returning to her chair. Her eyes lingered on the bottle—a trophy of her lifelong professionalism, a gift from the president herself. She had never touched it, not a drop, until now. Pouring a full glass, she swallowed it in one long gulp, her gaze rising to the ceiling as the room trembled once more.

Outside, colossal creatures surrounded the facility, tearing through vehicles and anyone foolish enough to approach. Rescue was impossible. Hope was gone. All Waller could do was wait for her inevitable end, fortified by one final act of defiance.

Outside Waller’s Office

Lights flickered, revealing walls splattered with blood and bodies strewn across the floor. Huge chunks of ice and jagged boomerangs were embedded in the walls, silent witnesses to the carnage.

Sounds of someone chocking could be heard clearly Deadshot’s struggles were pitiful as Max’s fingers gripped his throat, squeezing until the resistance ceased. Then, with a sharp snap, Deadshot’s neck broke. His body vanished into thin air, stored away in his storage space.

He stepped over the beheaded corpse of Harley Quinn, his footsteps clattering against a sea of spent bullet casings.

A hand shot out and grabbed Max’s ankle. He looked down to see Bronze Tiger, bloodied and battered, shaking as he clung desperately to Max’s foot.

Max flicked his wrist. A scythe materialized in his right hand, gleaming in the flickering light. With a single, precise swing, Bronze Tiger’s head was severed.

“A shame”, Max thought, I had been hoping to spare you. You’re one of the few genuinely trying to fix this world… but you just had to make things hard”.

He strode toward Waller’s office. With a swift kick, the door flew off its hinges.

“Knock knock… I’m in,” Max muttered, hefting his scythe over his shoulder as he stepped inside.

Waller sat calmly, sipping whiskey, her expression unreadable. Max placed his bloodied cythe on the table with a soft thud, then pulled out a glass from his storage space. He then took Waller’s whiskey and poured himself a drink, raised it, and took a slow, deliberate sip. A contented sigh escaping his lips.

Waller’s eyes remained fixed on him, blank and calculating.

“Good stuff, ain’t it?” Max finally broke the silence, voice calm, almost casual.

“Well, I aim to please,” Waller said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Still a bitch, I see,” Max muttered, pouring himself another glass and downing it in a single gulp. He paused, noticing a small bleeding wound on his shoulder. He dug a finger in and pulled out a needle-like bullet.

“Seems I got careless… but seriously, poison?” he murmured, glancing at Waller. As the bullet vanished into his storage space—he couldn’t afford mistakes with his DNA.

“Why are you stalling? I thought you were here to kill me,” Waller asked, her tone steady, almost curious.

” The fun part comes last,” Max replied casually. “So relax… I’ve got a few questions for you.”

“What makes you think I’ll answer you?” she said, eyes narrowing.

“Humour me,” Max said, clasping his hands together. Silence fell across the room as Waller stared at him, unflinching.

Max relented, a faint smile curling at the corner of his lips. “Defiant to the end, I see. I can respect that. I was just curious… what was the driving force behind your stupidity? Thinking you could actually create a clone capable of defeating me.”

He then stood up , towering over her as he picked up his scythe. “To be fair though,” he added, “I did warn you.”

Waller’s gaze never wavered. “You know,” she said quietly, “even if you kill me, more like me will emerge. You are an enemy of the state. One day… you will fall. Even gods fall with the right weapon.”

“Well said,” Max replied smoothly. “I’ll be waiting for that day.”

With that, he swung the cythe in a clean, deliberate arc. Blood erupted like a fountain, and Waller’s head fell to the ground.

Max then paused, hearing a faint ticking sound. He tilted his head and started tracing it, then followed it to the cabinet. He opened it—and let out a low chuckle at what he found. Closing it with a quiet snap, he made a single hand sign.

Far from the chaos, Superman, Green Lantern, and Batman were only moments away from arriving at Belle Reve when the night sky suddenly lit up unnaturally. A blinding sphere of light blossomed above the facility along with a mushroom shapped cloud of fire.

“Shit… it’s a nuke!” Green Lantern shouted, eyes wide as he dove into the same energy sphere with Batman, reinforcing it with every ounce of his power.

Superman and Wonder Woman braced themselves. A searing shockwave slammed into the ground, followed instantly by a towering wall of fire that roared across the landscape.

Meanwhile, at Rose Island…

Max clone’s Susanoo loomed over the wooden monstrosity, its massive swords pinning the creature down. Slowly, the monster’s strength waned. Her chakra was nearly spent, yet the vines still writhed, moving with an almost independent life. He had only one possible explanation: The Green. There was no other force that could sustain them like this.

He deactivated his Susanoo and stepped forward. The small wooden cocoon shuddered and cracked open. A girl crawled out, collapsing face-first onto the ground. Tiny vines lashed at Max clone, trying to impede him—but he tore them apart effortlessly.

He reached her. Her black eyes met his red ones, wide and pitiful, and for a brief moment, Max clone’s resolve wavered.

Then blood spurted across the ground as his hand pierced her chest. She coughed, a strangled, shocked sound escaping her lips.

“Why… what had I ever done to you all, I wanted was to see the world ,was that too much to hope for?” she whispered, her strength fading.

Max clone’s voice was low, almost sorrowful. “I’m sorry… but this is for your own good, boss.”

He pulled his hand back, catching her body before it could collapse, and hoisted her onto his shoulder. The vines writhed beneath them, powerless now that their source had been neutralized.

For a brief, silent moment, the world seemed to hold its breath—before the island’s chaos raged on around them.

“You monster” a voice shouted

End of chapter

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