Cyborg stared out into space from the open airlock. He hadn’t believed the shuttle’s sensors when it first opened… but now….

  The sheer scale of what he was witnessing was terrifying. Something that made the greatest works of Darkseid look insignificant. Here, in the depths of space, stood a circle of dozens of wormholes, each several kilometers across, connecting places thousands of light-years away….

  And most of them were spitting out rocks. Raw materials. Masses of mineral-rich rock that were being fed through into smelters, separated out, and then in turn fed into fabricators.

  There were tens of thousands of fabrication lines. At least a hundred thousand ships being actively built. Tens of billions of transmissions, mostly just giving updates on location, progress. Where fleets needed to be deployed. Where emergency assistance was needed for a plague; there were hundreds of that particular signal.

  Three of those portals went to additional hubs like this one… but they were merely like this for efficiency’s sake. There were thousands of smaller manufacturing hubs out there. Contrary to what ‘Abby’ had said in the meeting, a million starships and a hundred billion soldiers; enough to not just overpower but outnumber the civilian forces of Darkseid; wouldn’t significantly delay efforts in Andromeda…. If Cyborg could arrange transport.

  The power and efficiency of the Green Lantern Corps was…. Insignificant compared to this place. They tried to protect the universe with 3600 people, and this was all for just one galaxy. Every one of those million ships had advanced weaponry and defenses that would likely dramatically overpower a green lantern.

  This…. Was the biggest evidence he’d seen that the blue-skinned humanoids of Oa were undoubtedly a fabrication of that Imp.

  “...So. What exactly are you asking for?”

  The armored suit beside him; the cyborg inside had at least a third of her brain replaced by cybernetics, but she acted human enough, and looked more human than he did.. Looked out at the show.

  “If you could drop a couple of wormhole connectors… one near Sol, in case Darkseid counter-attacks, and one near Apokalips… and get either Eyeball or Superman there to deal with Darkseid… we give it better than a 87% chance that we can take Apokalips with less casualties among what pass for civilians there than they have in a typical year, and if Darkseid actually does attempt to invade earth, that goes up past 99.”

  He studied the fleet. “Why one of those two?”

  “.... We can trust Superman to occupy him long enough to secure the planet, and Eyeball to kill him.”

  “Really.”

  “If he goes in prepared in advance? Yes.”

  Cyborg shook his head. “You realize Darkseid is… in the top two or three most dangerous enemies you could possibly have to fight. The only ones I’d think are worse are Doomsday and Superman, and which of the three is worse would vary from day to day. If he’s angry, and defending his homeworld, Darkseid might well be the worst.”

  “Eyeball is the name he chose for himself. Titanslayer is the name he earned. Multiple times over; for killing impossibly powerful targets. Darkseid would be, at best, the second toughest enemy he’s killed, if he ends up killing him.”

  Abby looked over the fleet, then back to Cyborg. “If you’d give us the Boom Tube technology, it would be even easier. But even if you just pave the way….. We can have this over by tomorrow.”

  ***

  Darkseid stared at the display from his throneroom, troubled. He felt strange. As if he were incomplete…. Something missing. He’d fought the Kryptonian not long ago… and neither of the two could truly call themselves the victor. No…. the Batman had ended it by threatening to obliterate the entire planet, and proving he could.

  It was strange. He had discounted the human as a threat…. But he’d proven worthy of his respect. He’d sworn not to invade the earth so long as the earthlings left him alone; obviously planning to provoke a response he could someday repay in kind.

  He should have moved on. Be conquering other worlds. Consuming their resources. Obliterating or enslaving their peoples.

  Why wasn’t he? He hadn’t sworn not to invade anywhere. Just earth. And if he picked the right spot, it would even work to provoke a response from earth’s Green Lantern; an excuse to attack once more.

  But…. he wasn’t. He felt…. Almost as if he had been manipulated. As if someone were treating him as a puppet.

  He looked out over his most loyal warriors. Those who’d been born with power, and those he’d gifted it to after they’d proved themselves worthy. Something about them felt…. Missing.

  A soft beeping noise; he turned, facing the console beside him. Boom tubes had opened. Six of them. And then…. Shut. Within seconds.

  They’d been replaced by…. Something else. They formed a box, around Apokalips. A weapon? He studied them for a moment…. And then… six gateways opened. Enormous, circular pathways leading to somewhere in another universe; somewhere distant… and somewhere from which millions of lights began pouring through…. And raining down on his world.

  He glowered at the display. Soon, they would learn what it meant to…. A blur. A sudden horrible, terrible pain. Another. Another. Something was striking him with a force almost as great as his own, with impossible speed… he fell to his knees, and was slammed into the ceiling before being aware of what was going on… and blinked.

  The Kryptonian. He was here. And… he wasn’t playing. He was actually using every ounce of that impossible speed and strength. Fighting like he meant it. Every time the two had fought, the foolish man had never used his abilities to their utmost.

  Darkseid smiled. This meant his plans weren’t needed. He could crush the Kryptonian, here and now, and move on to earth. Let his minions deal with the lesser invaders for now. This…. Would be glorious.

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  He focused; a pair of omega beams lashing out; his ideal means of handling opponents faster than he was. Superman had tried before; but couldn’t outrun them.

  ***

  The factory was filled with smoke and misery, as the men hauled the ore down the line; they had no idea what they were building. It didn’t matter what they were building. What mattered was the quota.

  The quota was impossible to fill. If they didn’t meet it, the weakest, slowest on the team would die. They thought, maybe, if they got closer to the quote, less would die.

  If it weren’t for the manner of death, they wouldn’t care. But…

  Above the line; hands and feet nailed to the ceiling, screaming in pain, writhing, struggling… one of the stragglers from last week was still dying. Another; one who had broken a leg, and been unable to work; was beside him.

  Examples of what not to do. Warnings just as great as the soldiers watching over them; the rare sighting of one of the monstrous ParaDemons.

  As the next load of ore was dumped, there was a sudden flash from the sky. They all looked up; the soldiers, the workers… a Parademon was flying overhead.

  Was suddenly being the operative term. An object slammed into the Parademon, partially penetrating the armored monster, slamming it into the ground. Projectiles started to fire out of it even before it struck…. And one of the soldiers gave a jerk as something slammed into his face, shattering his faceplate and teeth at once, forcing him to swallow shattered bits of enamel and steel….

  Before tentacles started burrowing through flesh, seizing onto the spine. Within moments, the machine mounted to him had properly calibrated… and he started walking out of the factory, onto the street.

  The workers all stared, as one by one… every soldier, every watchman… simply… left. The strange metal tube that had launched the projectiles and taken down the Parademon… snapped open to reveal a humanoid robot; tall, spindly, painted in dull red with a yellow symbol on its torso.

  None stopped working. Even without the watchful eyes of their masters… the fear was just too great.

  ***

  Wonder-Woman stood atop one of the machines, staring at her surroundings. She’d come here to fight Granny Goodness. Ascension had directed her to the woman’s location with perfect precision. But what she’d seen on arrival….

  The heavyset, older woman was lying on the ground, surrounded by at least a dozen broken machines, bits of dull red metal scattered in every direction… with holes cleanly formed through her head and torso, blood pooling beneath her.

  The machines ignored her as she approached; collecting components. Weapons. Passing them to a single machine… which started marching away.

  She felt a sudden danger, a whistle of approaching enemies so fast they broke the sound barrier; something she did often enough when she fought….

  But whoever it was, was unrecognizable on arrival. Dozens of machines raised weapons, firing… and the mangled corpse of an unknown metahuman, one of Darkseid’s soldiers, slammed into one of them with enough force to shatter it.

  It didn’t matter…. There were billions more where it came from.

  Granny Goodness had been a monster. An unrelenting horror whose abuse and torment had helped shape some of Darkseid’s greatest warriors. And here she was. Dead. Someone likely a match for herself in battle. Executed. Coldly, cleanly.

  One of the machines not far away had aimed one hand at the ground… another approached her. “Please step away. Incoming. Friendly.”

  She blinked… and started backing away. “Incoming friendly? Incoming friendly what?”

  Suddenly she could see…. An enormous pillar of dull red metal slowly lowering itself from the sky… crushing a ruined building beneath it as it settled into place.

  Suddenly, she heard a noise…. The opening of a song. She had no idea what it was, but it sounded like Russian. And the soviet flag that was painted over it gave her a clue.

  “Incoming care facility. These were designed for Republic worlds, but are being re-purposed. We are assessing the situation. We will either be evacuating the population, or beginning re-education and remediation efforts.”

  “...Re-education.” The words… and the flag… did not give pleasant images.

  ***

  As an injured Superman’s cape was gripped by Darkseid; and used as a handle to slam him into the ground, shattering stone made of incredibly durable material with an even more durable face, he began to laugh…. And when Superman turned to face him, fired another blast; his Omega beams slamming into the hero with such force as to stun him, driving him back to the earth.

  Eyeball watched from around the corner, frowning. He’d advised them to gather here, to handle Darkseid together… but they’d split off to handle various targets among Darkseid’s elite.

  He’d already received four reports of them arriving only to find their chosen target killed by Ascension… and while Cyborg and Wonder-Woman had already started back his way, Flash was off doing his thing… mostly finding targets Ascension had already killed or subdued as he worked down a list.

  So. In moments, there’d be a team here capable of, hopefully, killing him. Eyeball could tell Darkseid didn’t want to be interrupted. If he turned the corner, the man would fire a pair of beams that… didn’t seem to be something he could dodge.

  “I was forced by my oath to declare a truce, Kryptonian. A truce, to save my world! You had a glorious gift, and were free of threats from Apokalips. But… that wasn’t good enough. You had to return, and provoke my wrath!”

  He could only go around in precious moments, when Darkseid was too occupied by his opponent to notice. He gave a slow nod. Such a moment was rapidly approaching where he could step in to help make a difference. And he could even shoot….. Oh.

  It was impossible to see the blur of movement. Darkseid tried to avoid it… but simply wasn’t fast enough. Superman looked hurt. Angry. He was even bleeding from a few cuts and impacts.

  Darkseid’s armor looked beaten…. But it seemed he’d had the better end of the deal. Until….

  The Kryptonian drove his thumbs into the monster’s eyes with terrifying force. The audible squelch sound, the scream of agony…. The thumbs pressed back into the eye sockets until the powerful fists were burying themselves in dark grey flesh. As Darkseid grabbed onto Superman's shoulders, the Kryptonian grabbed the eye-sockets, and focused…. Pulling his arms apart will all his might, focusing on the center of that skull, the heat growing steadily more intense.

  “No… no… NOOOO!”

  The pained shout was abruptly silenced by an audible crack. Darkseid fell to the ground, on his knees, limp… and Superman stared at his blood-covered hands.

  The New God raised one hand weakly. The skull was visibly broken; brain visible and exposed to the open air as blood flowed freely to the earth from the blinded tyrant.

  Eyeball shook his head, and stepped out into the opening, approaching. “He’s hurt. Badly. But not dead. Do you want to finish him off?”

  Superman sighed… and raised one powerful fist. “Imprisonment couldn’t possibly work for him. So I suppose we need to. How goes the rest of the planet?”

  “Ascension may have used a bit of overkill. Over half of the local military was suborned within seconds. There might be a leader or two hiding out there… but by tomorrow, this won’t be a war. It’ll be a recovery effort. To see if a hundred billion suffering, suicidal victims can be saved from themselves.”

  The last words Darkseid would ever here would be of not merely the fall of his Empire; but that that fall had been considered trivial by its perpetrators.