It was crystal clear.
The sudden anomaly with the Weeping Angel was directly tied to the Speed Force.
The Speed Force energy naturally radiating from the Flash, Barry Allen—blazing like a golden, flowing fire—had triggered a violent, extreme reaction from the imprisoned Weeping Angel.
Its stone body shuddered frantically.
The mental roar echoing from within was saturated with unprecedented hunger and pure greed!
"Speedsters, to a creature like this..." Constantine did not even have the chance to explain the sudden crisis before Batman's highly disciplined observation and deduction skills brought him to an instant conclusion.
"Are they equivalent to Ian's favorite Power of Nine Dragons?" Batman's gaze, hidden beneath his cowl, was as sharp as a hawk. His deep voice cut through the air with cold, analytical precision.
"It seems this thing isn't just a monster acting on base instinct. It belongs to an intelligent species." Batman kept his eyes locked onto the struggling statue.
"If these creatures sustain themselves by devouring temporal energy, then the Speed Force—a primordial power proven to directly manipulate and traverse timelines—is likely far more than just food to them." He paused, voicing a deduction that made both Superman and the Flash break into a cold sweat.
"It might be the ultimate catalyst capable of elevating their very state of biological existence. That is why it is willing to risk a fatal backlash from the magic array, desperately trying to get its hands on it."
It was a flawlessly accurate, clinical assessment.
"Fuck! I do not give a shit about the ecology or evolution of these damn things!" Constantine cursed loudly, completely losing his temper. His hands were locked in a vice-grip to maintain the spell seals, the veins on his temples bulging aggressively.
"I just want the big blue boy scout to get this goddamn speedster out of here! As far away as possible! I cannot hold this much longer!"
He looked toward Clark in sheer desperation.
Faced with this sudden turn of events, Barry Allen was clearly panicking. He waved his hands defensively, a completely innocent and bewildered look plastered across his face.
"I... I didn't do anything! I just got here! What the hell is going on?!" Realizing he was about to take the fall for another random Speed Force mess, the Flash felt an immense wave of grievance wash over him.
"I will take Barry over to the Fortress of Solitude." Clark was about to act, stepping forward to remove Barry from the area, when Batman spoke up again.
His tone remained terrifyingly calm.
"Based on the facts we just deduced... countermeasures designed for speedsters should produce a similar effect on a creature that likewise relies on time—or is abnormally sensitive to temporal energy." As he spoke, under the astonished gazes of everyone present, Batman swiftly pulled an inconspicuous device from his utility belt.
It was a small generator emitting a faint blue glow.
Without a shred of hesitation, he slammed his thumb down on the activation button!
Hum—!
An invisible, bizarre force field instantly rippled outward from the generator. This field did not target physical matter; instead, it acted upon rules that governed the fundamental fabric of the universe.
In an instant!
The Weeping Angel, which had been on the verge of a violent frenzy and nearly snapping the constraints of the magic array due to the Speed Force, looked as if someone had slammed the pause button on it.
All of its frantic struggling and erratic movements ground to a screeching halt!
Its lunging posture and feral, snarling expression froze completely. It looked exactly like a genuine, lifeless stone statue once more, save for its open mouth packed with razor-sharp fangs.
A lingering trace of sheer, frozen frustration seemed to cling to its stony maw.
"Wow... my reputation is saved." Barry Allen stared at the instantly sedated monster and let out a massive sigh of relief. But then his expression turned slightly strained and awkward. He looked at Batman, unable to stop himself from technical complaining: "So... you just carry around stuff specifically designed to take down speedsters? Huh?"
Even though he was well-versed in Batman's habits, experiencing it firsthand was still pretty disheartening. It felt exactly like visiting a friend's house only to discover they kept a stun gun hidden under the pillow explicitly meant for you.
Batman did not show even a hint of embarrassment. He did not even spare Barry a glance. His icy eyes remained fixed on the doubly imprisoned Weeping Angel, scrutinizing it as if it were a fascinating experimental specimen.
When he spoke, his low voice carried an unsettling trace of... regret and clinical curiosity.
"To be completely honest..." Batman's voice was so soft it was almost a whisper, yet it rang crystal clear in everyone's ears. "If the situation permitted, I would have quite liked to see what would happen if it actually made contact with the Speed Force and achieved that so-called 'evolution'."
The moment those words left his mouth.
Superman and the Flash were probably already accustomed to Batman's tendency to walk the razor's edge—his willingness to play with fire just to gather intel and draft contingency plans. They merely furrowed their brows, staying silent.
However, Constantine—a lone wolf who usually operated solo and treated teammates like sacrificial lambs—felt an intense wave of deeply uncomfortable anxiety.
In the past, he was always the one causing his teammates to feel this kind of dread.
He never expected that a day would come where he would be on the receiving end of it.
"You are a lunatic! A total, absolute psycho!" Constantine pointed a trembling finger right at Batman's nose, shaking with rage.
"One or two of these things might not cause a disaster, but they have a massive flock out there! You think evolution is exclusive to a single individual?"
"Their evolutionary data can be completely shared across their entire species! You let this one taste a fraction of that power today, and tomorrow you might birth a terrifying race capable of devouring the timeline itself!"
His voice grew shrill with agitation: "You have no goddamn clue how many civilizations this thing has wiped out across the annals of cosmic history! How many planets and universes have had their time broken into eternal ruins because of them! You are gambling with the entire Earth and the entire timeline!"
"The phrase 'playing with fire' was literally invented for you!" Constantine snapped without holding back.
"Oh?"
Being subjected to such an intense tirade from Constantine clearly displeased Batman. He slowly turned his head. His eyes, which resembled bottomless abysses even in broad daylight, locked coldly onto Constantine through his cowl.
"Do you honestly believe," Batman's voice dropped to a low, crushing register, carrying an implicit, absolute threat, "that Superman is the only one who can beat you until you are crying for your parents? Constantine."
That single sentence instantly caused the roaring Constantine to fold completely. It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head; his curses vanished into thin air. He shut his mouth entirely, staring back at Batman with eyes that practically screamed *you win this round*, not daring to utter another syllable.
But he clearly could not swallow this humiliation.
Seeing Batman return to analyzing the Weeping Angel with his instruments, Constantine stealthily took a few steps back—or maybe a few hundred steps—pulling away to what he deemed a safe distance. Finally, he could not resist muttering a final curse under his breath.
"Fine... let's see how you plan to save yourself before you drop dead." Constantine refused to let his pride be crushed entirely; he was convinced there would come a day when Bruce Wayne would beg for his help.
The atmosphere on the scene became profoundly awkward.
"What does that mean? Can someone please explain to me what the hell is actually happening right now?" The Flash, who had been kept entirely in the dark with a face full of pure, unadulterated confusion, finally raised his hand to ask a question.
He felt like an elementary schooler who had accidentally wandered into an advanced calculus lecture.
It made sense.
After all, he had only rushed over after receiving an emergency distress call. He naturally had zero context regarding the situation on the ground.
As Barry questioned them, before Constantine could even begin to explain, Batman calmly dropped a line that left Constantine utterly speechless.
"That which holds the image of an Angel becomes itself an Angel."
Who could have guessed that Batman had already deduced that piece of information?
Constantine's eyes widened to the size of saucers, as if he were witnessing something completely impossible: "No way... how the hell do you know that rule?!"
That was one of the most core, guarded secrets regarding the properties of Weeping Angels! Even veteran scholars of the occult side of the world might not know it! Wasn't a mortal like Batman supposed to just play with technology?
How did he know so much about the supernatural world?
Evidently, Constantine still did not truly understand the King of Gotham.
Batman did not answer his question directly. He merely spoke in a flat tone that carried the weight of infinite implications: "Ever since... certain things occurred."
"I understand angels far better than you do—any form of angel." As he spoke, under the baffled stares of Constantine and the Flash, Batman pulled a tiny, incredibly ordinary-looking mirror from his utility belt. He did not aim the mirror at the Weeping Angel; instead, he looked at his own reflection.
Sure enough.
The glass clearly reflected Batman's cowl. But terrifyingly, within the reflection of his eyes—which were not directly looking at the Weeping Angel—there remained a faint, blurry silhouette of the monster's feral, lunging form. It was as if the creature's shape had somehow been burned directly into his visual memory!
And it was now manifesting through the mirror!
"Just as I calculated. I have already been afflicted by some form of curse." Facing this deeply unnatural phenomenon, Batman remained entirely unbothered, as though he had foreseen it all along.
"What does any of that actually mean?!"
The Flash was being driven completely insane by this riddle-filled dialogue, shouting out in frustration once more.
Hearing this, Constantine took a deep breath, preparing to educate the poor speedster on the terrifying trait that *any medium capturing the image of a Weeping Angel—including retinal impressions, photographs, or video recordings—will gradually convert into a brand-new Weeping Angel*.
But Batman cut him off.
His voice carried an absolute, commanding authority: "The exact specifics will become clear to everyone once I thoroughly analyze its information pollution and transformation mechanisms. Right now, there is no time for a detailed lecture."
He turned his gaze toward Superman.
His directive was sharp and explicit.
"Remember, once I 'fall asleep,' secure this body immediately and transport it to the isolation chamber on the lowest level of Batcave Nine." Out of everyone present, Batman still trusted Superman the most.
Superman looked at Bruce. Though his eyes were filled with profound worry and disapproval, he knew all too well that once Bruce made up his mind, there was always a critical reason behind it.
"Understood."
He nodded.
The moment Superman's confirmation left his lips, before the dumbfounded stares of Constantine and the Flash, Batman directly triggered a hidden emergency switch within his armor!
A series of faint, sickening squelching sounds echoed out. Miniature high-frequency blades concealed within the joints and spine of the armor instantly deployed. With millimeter-level precision, they cleanly and ruthlessly severed his own tendons, ligaments, and several critical spinal nerve pathways!
"Ugh..." Batman let out a heavily suppressed groan. His massive frame collapsed like a puppet with its strings slashed, crashing heavily to the ground.
He completely lost all motor functionality and plunged into a deep coma—to put it bluntly, he had just performed an instantaneous, highly efficient, and incredibly brutal full-body paralysis surgery on himself!
Batman could fall asleep anywhere, anytime, and he had literally just turned himself into a vegetable on the spot!
The entire sequence occurred too fast, too suddenly, and too tragically! The Dark Knight, who had just been exuding an overbearing pressure and controlling the entire battlefield, was now lying in a pool of his own blood in a wretched state.
"Motherfucker!"
"Batman can't die!"
At that exact moment, Constantine's face drained of all color.
The spiteful energy he had just used to curse Batman completely vanished. He could not comprehend Bruce Wayne's sudden, suicidal act of pure madness! Knowing exactly what Batman meant to the universe, he instinctively lunged forward to administer medical aid, willing to use even the darkest life-extending sorcery at his disposal!
"He has to live! Batman has to live!"
Constantine frantically dug through his coat for his ultimate trump cards. Yet, before he could take a second step, a powerful arm barred his path—it was Superman.
"Watch this guy and that statue. Give me a moment," Superman instructed the Flash. He then gently lifted the completely unconscious Batman into his arms.
He cast one final look at the restrained Weeping Angel and the surrounding area. Then, with a sudden shift in posture, he transformed into a streak of blue sonic light, rocketing into the sky and flying toward Gotham at maximum velocity.
At the same time, he sent out an alert to the rest of the Justice League.
"Does anyone else remember that I'm supposed to be the prize buffet for that thing?"
The Flash bellowed into the open sky. On the ground, only the Flash and Constantine were left, staring at each other in the night wind. They looked at the small pool of blood that had not yet fully congealed, and then at the eerie statue sealed by both a force field and a magic array. The scene became incredibly silent and awkward.
"So..." Barry Allen swallowed hard with great difficulty, attempting to shatter the suffocating silence. He pointed at his own eyes.
"That whole... 'That which holds the image of an Angel' thing... I saw that monster too. Does that mean... I'm going to die, or get absorbed to become a part of its body?"
His Speed Force-enhanced brain was running calculations, his voice trembling slightly.
"Well."
Hearing this, Constantine turned around, scanning the Flash up and down. His face twisted into a classic expression that was an absolute blend of a shady merchant and a street-side scam artist.
"That depends. Do you have money?"
He asked straight to the point.
The Flash, who was frantically rubbing his eyes out of fear that they might turn to stone, was completely thrown off by the abrupt question. He answered honestly out of pure instinct.
"If... if I have a little bit..."
"Then this is going to be easy!"
Upon hearing that, a brilliant smile instantly bloomed across Constantine's face, as if he were looking at a walking checkbook.
"You have cash?" He rubbed his hands together, his tone becoming significantly warmer. "Then I guarantee you won't die! Professional exorcism, no deception for young or old, fair pricing, satisfaction guaranteed!"
Looking at Constantine's demeanor, the Flash understood instantly, though he really wished he didn't. His face fell into a miserable pout as he tried to bargain: "But... that's my savings that I've been keeping for a wedding fund for so long... wait!"
It was as if he had caught a literal lifesaver.
"Clark! Clark saw it too, right? Doesn't he need you to fix this problem for him too? Since there are two of us, we should at least get a group discount!"
The Flash tried to find some psychological comfort by sharing the misery with a comrade. However, Constantine merely let out a mocking scoff, looking at the Flash as if he were a complete idiot.
"How can a false god affect a true god? You people have absolutely no understanding of what Clark actually is. His fundamental conceptual status is simply too high. A curse and information pollution of this tier probably can't even leave a scratch on his retinas." His tone carried a subtle trace of reverence; he was practically praising Superman to the high heavens.
If he hadn't possessed this kind of mindset, he wouldn't have fled Metropolis overnight out of sheer terror back when he first discovered Ian was Superman's son, completely abandoning any thought of getting revenge on the Superman who had stolen his "passport."
"??????"
Receiving that answer and realizing his good buddy Superman didn't have to pay a single cent while he was the only one taking the financial hit, the Flash felt an even deeper wave of misery wash over him. His entire face completely collapsed.
"Don't worry, it's not expensive."
Constantine smiled warmly, fishing a portable card-swipe machine out of his trench coat pocket—a pocket that seemed capable of producing absolutely anything. He prepared to ask the Flash whether it would be "card or cash."
Right at that exact millisecond.
Hum!!!!
The entire space, without a single shred of warning, began to warp violently!
The structures of the surrounding houses began to twist, stretch, and deform like melting candles. The ground beneath their feet began to fluctuate and rise in rolling waves.
A nearby streetlight stretched out like a rubber band and snapped back, looking as if it were about to morph into an entirely different design.
"Someone has disrupted time!"
The Flash, whose perception of temporal shifts was the keenest among them, felt the impact most intensely. He cried out in absolute terror! A space-time disturbance of this magnitude was absolutely not a natural phenomenon!
"It's those damn kids! What on earth did they do in the past?!" Constantine's face turned deathly pale in an instant, so much so that he didn't even care to pick up the card machine he had just dropped!
He realized.
The exact scenario everyone had been dreading the most.
Had likely just occurred.