In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group

Amidst the boundless blizzard, a massive island soared into the sky, surrounded by swirling snowflakes that danced like celebrating spirits welcoming a God's descent. The howling winds hailed the greatness, singing an anthem in the sky for this extraordinary power.

Underneath the enormous island, there was a small figure. He held up the entire structure, flying amidst the storm and snow. His face was deathly pale, yet his determination remained unwavering. He didn't look back at the gigantic meteorite buried beneath the mayor's mansion, which nearly engulfed the entire Manor.

Just moments ago, when he lifted the entire mayor's mansion with the island, the tremendous radiation once again inflicted severe harm upon him. Nevertheless, Clark gritted his teeth and continued to hold the massive Manor, pushing forward through the storm and snow.

The blizzard obscured his vision, muffled his voice, and even clouded his thoughts. He gazed around, and all he saw was whiteness, devoid of direction, purpose, or hope. Clark only knew one thing: he had to fly farther, even farther away from the deadly radiation. He needed to place the Manor in a safe location.

This goal echoed incessantly in Clark's mind, yet he no longer knew what drove him to do it. He was not foolish; he understood that everything that had just happened in the Manor revealed the ugly side of those so-called elites.

They cared not for truth or justice. High above the society built by ordinary people, they looked down upon others, but in both ability and character, they were far from being noble compared to the toiling masses.

They believed they were above the rules of society, but in reality, they kneeled even faster under the rule of power than the howling winds outside the window. Whether it was in this absurd drama or in the intricate anthill of society, they became too deeply engrossed in their roles.

Clark couldn't say how long had passed; it felt like a century. The weakening power of the Kryptonite finally drained him completely. Despite his efforts to maintain stability, during the final descent, he couldn't control the Manor's balance effectively. As it landed, one corner of the Manor touched the ground first, followed by a loud crash as it smashed into the earth.

The impact caused massive changes within the Manor. Ordinary people were incredibly fragile; one moment they marveled at God's might, and the next, disaster struck. The unstable landing of the Manor first sent its inhabitants soaring into the air, and then they crashed back to the ground, some colliding with walls, resulting in bloodied and battered bodies.

Compared to an earthquake or a plane crash, the only advantage of this landing process was its swift conclusion, with those in unfortunate positions meeting their demise quickly. Among the residents of the three-story Manor, almost everyone suffered minor injuries, ranging from scraped foreheads to cut arms.

Most had minor fractures, and only a few, mostly elderly, succumbed to the violent impact. Exhausted and on the verge of collapse, Clark also fell to the ground. In the cold, snowy landscape, snowflakes patted against his face, and his body grew colder, but he sighed with relief, feeling that he had saved everyone inside the Manor.

With the Kryptonite's power depleted, he quickly recovered his strength. In a short while, he felt able to stand up again. However, just as he was about to do so, he saw, amid the vast blizzard, a figure approaching. The person was wearing a suit, had green hair, and Joker makeup on their face. Yet, it wasn't the same Joker as the one in the banquet hall. Clark's expression turned surprised as he exclaimed, "Schiller Professor..."

Then, within a blink of an eye, the figure raised a Kryptonite and brought it crashing down again.

When Clark woke up again, he found himself back in the banquet hall, tied up once more, with the Kryptonite firmly affixed to his chest. Apparently, he wouldn't be able to escape this time. In the surveillance room, Batman finally saw the face of the other Joker, the accomplice of the one he knew, and a different Joker altogether.

Batman squinted, displaying his familiar expression of suspicion. He lowered his head and looked at the Batman doll he had thrown on the ground, lost in deep thought.

However, the farce in the banquet hall was far from over. The Joker in the long suit came in front of Clark, crouched down, and continuously played with a button, addressing the bloodied Clark:

"Do you think I'd be that boring? Allowing a bunch of fools to execute two other fools?"

"My goodness! This is the world's worst script—boring, uninteresting, and utterly disregarded..."

"If I were only at this level, I'd surely starve, but Jack is the greatest comedian in the world!"

"Now, the real opening begins..."

Saying so, he revealed a crazed grin to Clark. Just then, a disheveled woman rushed out from one of the rooms, reaching the balcony's railing, shouting frantically:

"Kill him, kill that damned monster!"

She pushed her hair aside, revealing a huge wound from her cheek to her neck, as if she had accidentally collided with something when she landed, cutting herself deeply.

Aside from the gruesome wound, she was extraordinarily beautiful, with a seductive figure, and her sparkling evening gown made her look enchanting. However, the wound and the bloodstains on her chest made her seem like a malevolent ghost.

"He ruined my face! Ruined my entire acting career! I have another movie to shoot in the next six months, and if I break the contract, I'll lose everything! No!"

"Kill him! He's a monster! Waaah..."

The woman's sharp screams and cries echoed through the Manor; it was evident that she was on the verge of madness.

Meanwhile, in another room, a person dressed as a politician, leaning on a cane and covered in blood, walked out. His arm was bent at an odd angle, and he looked at Joker and said:

"It's not over! It's not over... I'll vote for Clark!"

"He moved the entire mayor's mansion in Metropolis. How can we explain all this to the public? How can I face the state council's inquiry? My career is ruined!"

"Are you all insane?!" Clark exclaimed in shock. "I was trying to save you all! I was trying to save everyone inside this Manor..."

Yet, more people came forward, their bodies covered in injuries and blood, shouting, "You monster!"

One elderly man, resembling a host, stood up, pointing his finger at Clark and said, "You didn't want to die yourself, and you were worried that we'd vote for you, so you created this mess!"

"Since you couldn't guarantee our safety, why did you do all this?!"

"You're not a human; you're a monster! Only a monster could do this; you didn't do it for us!"

"My arm hurts so much. Can someone help me, dear God..."

"My face is disfigured. How will I host my shows in the future? You ruined all of us..."

"Having cancer would be better than this. At least I could afford treatment, but now, I'll be disabled for life!"

"You're not human; you're a monster! A lunatic!"

Everyone wailed, dragging their injured bodies out of the room and onto the balcony corridor, pointing accusingly at Clark, lying in the center of the banquet hall.

Clark felt like he was caught in a howling blizzard, and the screams, cries, accusations, and insults were like sharp snowflakes piercing his heart, leaving him powerless and devoid of resistance.

Did he do something wrong? Clark wondered, perhaps he did.

That terrifying lunatic, that Joker who understood human nature the most, orchestrated this entire conspiracy to provoke him. From facing Lionel's corpse to misleading him into attacking Lex, and then exposing the truth, making him feel guilty, and finally holding the so-called voting performance, maybe even the easily freed Kryptonite was part of his plan.

Everything the Joker did was to leave him stranded in the world's coldest blizzard, making him realize that nothing could be colder than facing human nature, no matter how harsh the chilling winds and snow might be.

Suddenly, a scream echoed through the empty Manor:

"Vote! I want to vote! I vote for Clark! Kill him!"

"Mr. Joker, exercise your power! My vote empowers you to kill him!"

This scream seemed to remind everyone. They looked at Clark, who was once again bound and extremely weakened, and then at the two Jokers wielding deadly weapons.

They suddenly realized that this voting game wasn't over; on the contrary, the performance had just begun.

As one person took action, everyone struggled to return to their rooms, even with broken arms and bleeding bodies, surrounded by pain. They did their best to press that button.

And at this moment, the only spectator of this performance saw everything from the surveillance room.

As a blue light shone in Batman's eyes, there was only an infinite tide of darkness remaining there.

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