After ending the war and saving so many lives, Joey realized he had started to carry himself a bit differently.
Before, he could kill Gorilla Grodd and his entire tribe without hesitation, because he believed that stance mattered more than right or wrong. Standing on humanity's side, he could wipe out that group of gorillas without a second thought.
But to Kryptonians, humans were far more primitive than gorillas. If Joey had to choose a side now, shouldn't he logically stand with the Kryptonians instead?
The core tragedy of Superman lies in his immense power and absolute loneliness. But now, an entire planet of his Kryptonian kin existed out there—he wasn't alone like Clark Kent.
All he had to do was make the 'wise' choice of where he stood.
And yet, now that he could easily choose a side, he found himself hesitating over what was right and wrong.
Wait a second—
After struggling with it for a while, Joey suddenly realized something.
I'm Superman. I can do whatever I want.
Choosing sides? I am my own side.
Choosing between Kryptonians and humans looked like a classic dilemma, a trolley problem where you pick the lesser evil.
But Joey was Superman—the embodiment of overwhelming force smashing through problems. The ultimate solution to complex dilemmas.
Faced with a trolley problem, why not just stop the train?
Which brought up a new problem: how could Joey make sure his super power was truly super enough—enough to face a million-strong Kryptonian army head-on?
Superman was Kryptonian, but not all Kryptonians were Superman. There were differences among them.
Still, they were Kryptonians. Under a yellow sun, every one of them possessed earth-shattering power.
Expecting Joey to charge in and knock them down one by one was unrealistic.
Two fists couldn't beat four hands—never mind a whole army. Even if he didn't collapse from exhaustion, the shockwaves of such battles would destroy Earth hundreds of times over.
What about a decapitation strategy, like he used against the Amazons? Would taking out their commander work?
He didn't even know how Kryptonian military command was structured.
Could Cyborg, with his guidance, find strong enough individuals to form a small elite strike force capable of breaking through a Kryptonian army?
Maybe he should ask Batman.
Joey handed recruitment over to Cyborg, even naming people like Zatanna and John Constantine. He couldn't track them himself—mages had plenty of ways to hide from his senses.
But for Cyborg, who could access global cameras and financial records, they were much easier to locate.
Joey sent Wonder Woman back to prepare for war, and also notified Aquaman to ready Atlantis for a fight for survival.
Which made him wonder—where had the old gods of this world gone?
He had asked Wonder Woman before, and apparently, Themyscira had lost contact with her father many years ago.
Of course, Wonder Woman's irresponsible dad was just what Joey called him in his head. Saying it out loud might actually get him struck by lightning—after all, that was none other than the king of the gods, Zeus.
Joey also noticed something strange—this version of Wonder Woman, despite being ruthless in battle, was still inexperienced in a more personal sense. Even after her failed political marriage with Aquaman, she still hadn't quite grasped certain basic truths about herself.
Diana still believes that she was shaped from clay by her mother, Hippolyta, and then brought to life as an Amazon after being blessed by the Greek gods.
Honestly, Joey could only hope that the ancient gods had truly left this world—and would never return.
Otherwise… by Hera, considering what happened to Hercules, Diana would be in for a truly miserable fate.
Strangely enough, thinking about someone else's potential suffering—even if it hadn't happened yet—made Joey feel a bit lighter. By the time he finished decompressing in his head, he had already flown to Gotham.
In this universe, Batman wasn't the young and driven Bruce Wayne, but his father, Thomas Wayne—a doctor.
After this older Batman caused a medical accident and effectively got The Flash killed, Joey had been too busy ending the war to pay any more attention to Gotham.
He recalled that the first time Doctor Fate teleported him, it had been from the sun to Gotham. Maybe, in the eyes of fate, this old Batman still had some value.
Whatever. It wouldn't hurt to ask.
Even though Cyborg had invited him multiple times before—and each time had been met with blunt rejection and ridicule.
After all, Joey was trying to protect people like him. Surely the guy wouldn't be completely uncooperative?
"Are you out of your mind?"
It was still daytime. The old Batman hadn't yet become Gotham's nighttime avenger. He was still Thomas Wayne—the billionaire of Gotham.
Beneath his feet, the Wayne Casino operated day and night, extracting obscene profits from countless broken dreams.
At this moment, the casino magnate sat in his top-floor office, dressed in a suit, drinking heavily—despite his immense wealth, the liquor in his glass was the cheapest whiskey.
Joey didn't even need x-ray vision to know that if this continued, the alcohol-soaked old man's heart wouldn't last many more years.
And right now, he flat-out rejected Joey's entire position:
"They imprisoned your cousin and tortured her for nearly twenty years. Now your father wants to kill them, to secure a better future for your people—and you're against it?"
"You could have been a hero, expanding your race's domain. Instead, you choose to be a traitor despised by billions of your own kind?"
To be honest, Joey could argue back—'every planet has both good and bad people,' or 'Earth belongs to humans,' or 'human lives matter too.'
But in the end, he wouldn't be able to convince this old Batman.
Because the man wasn't really arguing—he just wanted to curse him out… and die.
The death of his son, Bruce Wayne, and the loss of his wife, Martha, had completely stripped Thomas of the will to live.
Unlike the main-universe Batman, he had no grand ideals.
Bruce Wayne became Batman to prevent other children from suffering as he did.
But Thomas became Batman purely to vent.
By day, he drank himself into oblivion in a suit. By night, he put on the cowl and killed.
All of it was just to accelerate his own death.
Even if the world was about to end, he would simply stay in Gotham—this garbage heap—and await his death.
Joey cursed him silently and left Gotham, searching for another possible ally.
This old Batman was completely beyond help—closed off. Joey had thought a every lines-crossed Batman might be easier to talk to.
Turns out, he was even more extreme.
He had thought the normal Bruce Wayne was already obsessive—but this was something else entirely.
Once Joey was gone, Thomas Wayne pulled out his tablet.
On the lit-up screen was something of utmost importance to him—
The Lazarus Pit.