DC: I'm The Ultimate Lifeform

Chapter 36: Chapter 36



"This also doesn't seem to be my Earth," Suddenly something or someone appeared in Superman's path, his voice calm but tinged with mild curiosity as his piercing eyes scanned the unfamiliar universe.

Before he could take another step, Superman, fueled by unrelenting rage and the power of the Yellow Lantern, hurtled toward him like a blazing missile. The Kryptonian struck him head- on, colliding with his back in an impact that echoed like a thunderclap across the battlefield.

But the newcomer didn't so much as flinch. He stood there, unmoving, as if Superman's furious charge was nothing more than a gentle breeze.

Superman, however, was launched backward, his momentum broken as he tumbled through the air. He barely managed to steady himself, wiping away the blood now trickling from his nose. His expression was a mixture of shock and disbelief as his gaze locked onto the figure who had so effortlessly stopped him.

"Oh? A war... the Green Lanterns... and..." the newcomer paused, his gaze flickering toward those fighting the Green Lantern noting the yellow glow amongst them. "Oh, a new color. How fascinating."

In shock, Superman steadied himself, his gaze fixed on the figure before him. Meanwhile, the newcomer's eyes wandered leisurely across the chaotic battlefield, his expression calm, almost amused. He spoke as if observing a play unfolding solely for his entertainment, untouched by the chaos around him.

And why would he? When you hold the power to destroy the multiverse, something merely planetary, no matter how furious, barely registers as a nuisance. Superman, with all his strength and rage, was little more than an afterthought to the newcomer.

"A ring centered on the concept of fear?" the newcomer mused aloud, seemingly oblivious to the chaos around him. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his tone more curious than concerned. "Wouldn't it make more sense for a different color to take over that domain? Like... brown? No, too bland. Or black... no, that feels racist." He paused, snapping his fingers. "How about grey? Neutral, balanced, grey's got potential."

His casual rambling sent a ripple of fury through Superman, who clenched his fists, his yellow aura flaring with violent intensity. This stranger's complete disregard for him, his dismissal of the situation as some abstract joke, was infuriating.

Enraged, Superman burst forward, his heat vision blazing as twin beams of searing energy shot toward the newcomer's face. The beams struck the newcomer square in the eyes, causing him to frown in visible annoyance.

He blinked a few times, irritated, before raising a hand to shield his face. "Really?" he muttered, his tone somewhere between irritation and disbelief. "Pointing laser pointers at people? You know those things can blind someone, right? They're not toys."

The newcomer's casual tone only stoked Superman's fury further, his yellow aura flaring as he prepared to strike again. But the newcomer simply shook his head, muttering to himself.

"Unbelievable," the newcomer muttered, shaking his head in disapproval. "Who plays with toys like this in the middle of a battlefield? Show some respect. People are dying here." But then he froze.

His words caught in his throat as his eyes locked onto the source of the so-called "toy." His gaze widened, taking in the sight before him, Superman, clad in his iconic uniform, now glowing ominously with a yellow hue.

"Wait, that was your laser beams? Why are you attacking me?" the newcomer asked, frowning as he looked at the rude figure before him. His expression was a mix of confusion and annoyance. "Why is everyone so quick to attack me when I haven't done anything?"

"Impossible," Superman muttered under his breath, his mind racing as he realized the person in front of him wasn't ordinary, not by any stretch.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Broly's frown deepened. Without a word, his tail flicked sharply behind him before snapping forward with blinding speed, catching Superman across the face. The force of the slap was earth-shaking, the shockwave rippling outward and drawing the attention of everyone on the battlefield.

Superman's head snapped to the side, and for a horrifying moment, the world seemed to freeze. The slap was so powerful that every tooth in the Kryptonian's mouth flew out in a glittering arc, scattering across the battlefield like shards of broken glass. Gasps echoed from every corner, the sight leaving even the most battle-hardened onlookers stunned.

"You want to attack me for doing nothing? Bet," Broly said, his voice calm but tinged with annoyance.

Before Superman could respond, Broly's tail flicked forward again, slapping the Kryptonian across the opposite cheek with a resounding crack. Then it happened again. And again. And again. Each slap echoed across the battlefield like thunder, the relentless barrage leaving Superman helpless against the sheer force.

Teeth and blood rained from the sky like confetti, scattering across the ground in an almost comical display of carnage. In cultivation novels, they might describe it as "turning one's face into a pig's head," and in this case, the description couldn't be more accurate. Superman's once-proud visage was now swollen, bruised, and thoroughly unrecognizable.

"What's this?" Broly said, his tone dripping with mockery. "You can dish out attacks, but when it comes to taking them, it's a different story. Go on, endure my beating."

He crossed his arms, his tail swishing lazily behind him, ready to strike again. His voice grew darker, his words carrying a weight that made the battlefield seem eerily silent. "As the new Lord of Hell, I decree: the gates of Hell shall remain locked to you. And since Heaven will never accept your soul, all you can do is stay alive and take this punishment."

The crowd was frozen, too stunned to move. They could only watch as Broly's tail continued its relentless assault, each strike echoing like a crack of thunder. Superman, once the symbol of unshakable power, was utterly helpless, unable to fight back, unable to die. Blow after blow landed with bone-crushing force, yet Superman's body refused to give out.

The sight of Superman, battered and beaten, unable to even mount a defense, was too shocking for anyone to process. Fear and awe rippled through the onlookers as they realized the full scope of Broly's power.

"I'll motivate you a little," Broly said, his tone calm but with a subtle edge of amusement. He gestured with his hand as if inviting Superman to rise. "Go on, fight back. Fight back."

It was a remarkable display of generosity, really. Who else, in the midst of thoroughly beating someone into the dirt, would take the time to encourage their opponent to defend themselves? Truly, if Broly wasn't a saint, then who was?

The battlefield remained eerily silent, the onlookers frozen as they watched this surreal moment unfold. Superman, battered and swollen beyond recognition, barely stirred under Broly's shadow. Yet Broly continued his "motivational" speech, the flick of his tail ready to deliver another lesson in humility.

Hal Jordan, once the proud bearer of the Green Lantern's emerald light, now the Yellow Lantern, corrupted by fear, shot forward, unable to watch any longer.

The sight of Superman, battered and humiliated, was too much, even for someone now wielding the power of fear. Hal's yellow ring flared brightly, casting a sinister glow across the battlefield as he propelled himself toward Broly with everything he had.

"Enough!" Hal roared, his voice trembling with anger and something else, perhaps desperation. The fear-powered constructs he conjured shimmered like molten gold as they

surged toward Broly, the full might of the Yellow Lantern's will behind them.