Chapter 90: Heading to Earth Three
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The Outsider's tactics, once elusive and mysterious, had now become completely transparent. In this confrontation, he lost his greatest weapon—secrecy. Every step he made, every reaction he had, fell right into Dean's expectations. And without concealment, the Outsider, stripped of mystery, was just another arrogant player in a game he thought he controlled.
Still, the Outsider refused to believe he had been outsmarted by someone so young. In his mind, he was above them all—this universe, its people, its heroes—just a collection of flawed imitations. But now, faced with Dean's cunning, he'd learned a lesson he hadn't seen coming.
"Give me the box!" he bellowed, voice rising in fury.
Stunned for only a second, the Outsider quickly tried to seize control with brute force, shouting at Dean in an attempt to intimidate him into surrendering Pandora's Box.
Dean, however, stood firm. Though he had just earned the platinum-level feat of "I Want to Fight Ten," he wasn't reckless. The combat prowess of "Butler Man" was no joke, and Dean wasn't about to take chances. Calmly, he drew the Changhong Sword and prepared for his signature technique—the "Three Stages of Sword Dance."
But before Dean could even complete the first movement, the Outsider suddenly turned on his heels and bolted.
"Ah, Alfred… so this was your escape route all along."
And yet, even as he ran, the Outsider didn't forget to hurl a parting threat over his shoulder. "I will vanish into the shadows once again! Next time, I return with my master!"
Just as Dean braced to chase after him, the Outsider's long strides were abruptly cut short. His body collided with something invisible, his limbs flailing as his face smashed against what seemed to be thin air. His features twisted grotesquely on impact.
"I'm not late, am I?"
The voice came before the figure did. Superman appeared directly in the Outsider's path, and the Outsider had slammed headfirst into Superman's immovable chest—arguably the most indestructible wall on Earth.
Dean, unfazed, casually finished the final flourish of his swordwork and sheathed the blade. "No, you came just in time."
He watched the scene unfold with a wry smile.
The Outsider, still dazed, looked up at Superman in disbelief. He had assumed Dean had already neutralized the Kryptonian. Clearly, he was wrong. It was now obvious that Dean had been orchestrating this whole scenario from the moment the Outsider tried to pin the Batcave breach on him.
"Outsider," Dean said, smirking, "do you know how to catch big fish? You cut the bait to build the nest. I hooked myself. Learned it from lottery fishing."
The Outsider stumbled backward, and at that moment, any lingering thoughts of fighting vanished. Superman's presence alone erased the idea of resistance. No kryptonite in sight meant no chance—he knew better than to try.
Still, desperate, the Outsider reached for his last escape tool—a silver coin, etched with the skull-and-crossbones sigil of Pandora's Box.
Dean's voice rang out instantly: "Superman! That coin's a miniature space-transfer device—he's trying to teleport!"
Even before Dean finished the warning, the coin had vanished from the Outsider's hand—now safely in Superman's palm. The Outsider hadn't even registered the movement.
Superman examined the intricate coin with a curious smile. "Mind if I keep this? I'm still short one silver coin for my collection."
Both Superman and Batman were notorious for their personal collections, but Dean wasn't sentimental. He waved dismissively. "Go ahead. Amanda Waller's been after teleportation tech for years. I'd rather not get into it with her."
Superman gave him a sly grin. "That's one reason I do want to keep it. Got to maintain the League's monopoly on space-jumping."
Dean blinked. "Seriously? I didn't expect someone like you—clean-cut farm boy, big eyes, bushy brows—to be so… conniving."
Superman, reading Dean's expression with ease, quickly clarified, "Batman's idea. I'm just the guy delivering the message."
Dean chuckled dryly. "Oh, if it's Bruce, that makes sense. Capitalists, man…"
Meanwhile, the Outsider stood off to the side, seething as the two traded casual remarks. They didn't even regard him as a threat anymore. His final option—his silver coin—was gone. His plan unraveled. He was well and truly cornered.
The end of the road?
Suddenly, the Outsider broke into laughter. The twisted, strained kind that echoed through the room and drew the eyes of both Dean and Superman.
"Hahaha… cough…!"
Superman's expression darkened in an instant. He grabbed the Outsider and yanked him upright, only to see blood trickling from the corners of his mouth.
And yet, the Outsider's pale face—gaunt, ghostly, and stretched into a wide, unhinged grin—looked almost like a clown's. An expression of defiance… or madness.
"I know I can no longer complete the master's task. This is the steward's dereliction of duty," the Outsider said coldly, his voice low and unshaken, "but at the very least… I will ruin your reputation."
It was poison, hidden in his teeth all along. As a former covert agent, the Outsider had long accepted death as part of his service. He had been trained not only to obey but to die without hesitation if it meant advancing his master's cause. He no longer sought survival—only to ensure that his death would be used as a final act of sabotage, a final blow to serve his master's will.
"You need me to justify your plan to break into the Batcave, to explain the kidnapping of the League's reserve members, and the Gotham villains you command. As long as I die, all of this will be finalized in their minds. There will be no way for you to clear your name."
The Outsider's expression was resolute. His eyes were void of fear. He was prepared to drag Dean down with him. Superman's expression tightened—he understood the gravity of the situation. Dean's reputation and innocence hung on keeping the Outsider alive.
But Dean himself didn't show even the slightest hint of panic. Instead, he calmly reached into his system warehouse and pulled out the Horse Talisman, holding it up in his hand like an answer to a problem already solved.
"Hmph. Sorry to disappoint you," Dean said slowly, his tone almost casual. "As long as I don't want someone to die in front of me, it won't happen—whether you're my friend… or an enemy like you."
The Horse Talisman's power flowed into the Outsider, neutralizing the poison coursing through his veins. Not only did it purge the toxins, it even restored the teeth he had shattered in his attempt to take his own life. But just in case he tried something similar again, Dean swung his sword scabbard and tapped the Outsider on the side of the head, delivering a quick, blunt-force knockout—a "physical anesthetic," as he put it.
Superman let out a breath of relief and joked, "Does that match the one I have? Yours is the horse, mine's the snake."
Dean narrowed his eyes and glared. "Don't even think about it. This belongs to Wayne Enterprises."
Yes, the Horse Talisman was technically the legal property of Wayne Enterprises. Since the museum housing it was funded and operated by Bruce Wayne, Dean had never returned it. And truth be told, unless Batman personally asked for it back, Dean had already decided he'd keep it indefinitely. Out of sight, out of mind.
"Wayne again," Superman sighed with a helpless shrug. "Is there anything in Gotham that doesn't belong to Wayne?"
Dean chuckled but quickly shifted the topic to something more pressing. "Speaking of Wayne… you were with Batman before this, right? Has he found Shendu?"
"I don't know if what Batman found was Shendu exactly," Superman replied, his tone turning serious, "but he said the Joker is dead. And someone orchestrated it. The one behind it… is the Riddler."
"The Riddler?" Dean's eyes widened in disbelief. That didn't make sense.
The statue of Shendu was still displayed in Wayne Manor, sealed and silent. He had always assumed Shendu had merged into someone, hiding in plain sight. But he never imagined it would be Edward Nygma—the Riddler. Possessed by Shendu? That revelation rattled him.
Could it be that Shendu had a special affinity for green? Dean remembered how Valmont also loved wearing green. Maybe there was a pattern there.
He hoisted the unconscious Outsider over his shoulder, about to call for Cyborg to open the Boom Tube, only to realize—he didn't have the communicator. Right. It was still with Deann.
"Hand me the communicator," Dean said with a sigh. "Forget the monitor—Batman'll install a new one for me later anyway."
After five years of working together, Superman had long gotten used to this kind of situation. He handed the communicator over with a knowing grin.
"With Batman on the follow-up, I can relax," Dean added.
Instead of grabbing the communicator, Dean reached back into the system warehouse and pulled out Pandora's Box.
"Superman, take the Outsider with you. I've got personal business to deal with."
Superman immediately knew what he meant. Batman had told him everything—about Dean's real goal, about his mother. That was why Superman chose to support Dean, even when the rest of the League was divided.
Still, Superman tried to advise him: "Don't open the box now. We don't know what's waiting on the other side. Let's regroup at the Watchtower, gather the team, and then form a strategy."
Dean gave him a soft smile and shook his head. "No, Superman. You misunderstood. I never planned on opening the box. That's exactly what Shendu wants."
As his father once said, Earth-3 was a world where "black energy runs rampant." In contrast, their main universe was dominated by justice and light.
In the DC Universe, only the Shendu could actively absorb and control dark energy. So, when he smuggled himself into the main universe, it was inevitable that he'd let the Outsider operate under his command. That was the opening move.
If the two universes were ever connected, and the evil Justice League of Earth-3 poured through, their black energy would flood into this world. Once they were defeated, the dark energy would remain behind, ripe for the taking—and only Shendu would be strong enough to claim it all, becoming the next great evil.
"This is also the reason why I went straight to find The Flash the moment I learned the truth about my mother's so-called 'death.' I never had any intention of opening Pandora's Box to go to Earth-3."
As Dean spoke, he tugged down the collar of his suit, revealing the Spider God necklace he had taken from the Vixen. It shimmered in the low light, and golden lightning crackled faintly around his body—evidence of the power now coursing through him.
At some point during his conversation with Barry Allen, Dean had already gained access to the Speed Force. Unlike Black Lightning, whose powers also manifested as black lightning with limited reach, Dean's Speed Force had the full potential needed to push beyond the boundaries of this universe. If he truly wanted to cross into Earth-3, he needed something more powerful than brute force—he needed brotherhood, knowledge, and speed.
"I'm not going to open Pandora's Box," Dean declared. His voice was steady, unwavering. "All I want are the coordinates to Earth-3."
He wasn't speaking hypothetically. Dean had reasoned it out: Pandora's Box, a device capable of creating a rift between dimensions, had to contain coordinate data—if it didn't, it wouldn't function at all. It was the only way it could consistently open a path to that specific universe.
Superman looked at him, understanding dawning in his eyes. Dean never planned to drag anyone else into this mess. From the beginning, he had chosen to carry this burden alone. His plan was to enter Earth-3 himself and find his mother with his own hands, no matter what dangers lay ahead.
But Superman's expression grew more serious. His tone dropped slightly, tinged with concern: "If what the Outsider said is true… if your mother really is a thief, Dean… what will you do?"
It was a heavy question. Would Dean be able to uphold justice even if it meant standing against his own blood? Would he punish evil even if that evil wore his mother's face?
Dean met his gaze with a soft but confident expression, one that showed no hesitation. "Superman, have you ever read the fairy tale about the little tadpole looking for its mother?" he asked quietly. "During its journey, the tadpole is misled, confused, takes all sorts of wrong paths—but in the end, it grows up, and when it does, it finally understands. It becomes what it was always meant to be… it becomes like its mother."
That was Dean's truth. He believed, with absolute conviction, that he was standing on the side of righteousness. And because he believed that, he had no doubt—his mother must be the same. Somewhere behind the mystery, the lies, and the multiversal chaos, he believed she was a force for good.
Superman knew then that Dean could not be persuaded. But unlike the situation with the silver coin, this time he didn't try to stop Dean. He didn't reach for Pandora's Box or raise his voice. Dean was no longer someone who could be easily intercepted—even Superman had to acknowledge that. He had tapped into the Speed Force. His reflexes were honed enough now to match even Kryptonian speed.
"Dean," Superman said at last, his voice soft but carrying a familiar weight, "you really are just like Batman. Always charging forward, never listening to anyone. Maybe I can't convince you. But I can still help—just like I did for him."
With that, Superman turned away, lifting the unconscious Outsider over his shoulder with one arm. "By the way," he added casually, "Batman told me never to let you scan me."
Dean narrowed his eyes as he stared at Superman's wide-open, unguarded back. Without hesitation, he activated the Omnitrix's gene capture mode. It began its scan silently.
Fifteen seconds later, a small, glowing projection appeared above the watch's surface. It displayed the unmistakable silhouette of a Kryptonian—broad chest, flowing cape, and the iconic S-shield on the chest.
[Gene capture complete. Kryptonian data successfully stored.]
At that moment, Pandora's Box began to emit a piercing white light. The space around it shimmered, trembling with instability. The rift in time and space was starting to open—but only slightly, a soft pulse that signaled the beginning of something far greater.
Dean's connection to the Speed Force flared to life in response. Golden lightning surged along his limbs, dancing in rhythm with the pulses from the box. It was almost time.
He glanced up at Superman, who was already rising into the sky.
"Thank you, Superman," Dean said sincerely.
But Superman didn't turn around. With the Outsider slung over his shoulder, he flew into the sky without another word, a quiet show of trust. The first rays of dawn crept over the rooftops of Gotham, and light flooded the narrow path of Crime Alley. The alley was empty again, cold and abandoned—but now it held the warmth of a promise.
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Superman is such a bro, RESCPECT🤜🤛
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