Wonder Woman weaved and darted through the sky, evading the attacks rising from below.
Doomsday had already tried every method he could think of, yet he still could not reach the infuriating insect flying above him.
After narrowly avoiding another blast of heat vision by the slimmest margin, Diana still failed to find the right opening.
And not merely a figurative opening.
A literal one.
The mottled layer of bone spurs covering Doomsday's body was continuing to grow thicker. Diana could not be certain whether the fragile Kryptonite blade in her hand possessed enough durability to pierce that exoskeletal armor and kill him instantly.
According to both Joey and Batman, the creature's rate of adaptation during combat was absurdly fast. Once something had successfully injured him once, it became nearly impossible for the same tactic to work a second time.
Which meant that if Diana wanted to win, she could only continue circling him, observing him, and waiting for the single perfect moment.
And all of that still depended on one critical assumption—
That Kryptonite weapons even worked on Doomsday at all.
This was a gamble in which their side possessed almost no meaningful advantage.
The only thing Diana found solace in was that, by acting as bait, she had at least managed to keep the monster occupied and prevent even greater slaughter.
Because the scale of destruction unfolding now was already more than this world could endure.
Diana could almost hear Mother Earth herself—crying out in pain.
She no longer knew which of the Fates governed luck in the old Greek myths.
She only knew she desperately needed some.
Below her, Doomsday lunged upward once more.
Diana evaded the attack just as she had several times before.
But this time, something changed.
The exoskeletal growths shrouded in nuclear fire and radiation suddenly began multiplying at terrifying speed, reshaping themselves into the outline of wings.
During this short battle, it was not merely Doomsday's body evolving—
His combat instincts were evolving as well.
And now, he was imitating the flying creatures of Earth.
The wings beat violently.
And somehow, impossibly, they shifted his trajectory through the air.
Only a short distance but it was enough.
Enough for him to close toward Wonder Woman and swing his fist at her.
Doomsday possessed almost no reason or higher awareness. Because of that, he could neither consciously understand nor instinctively utilize the Kryptonian biofield generated beneath a yellow sun.
Which was why he could not fly.
But by mimicking the wings of birds, he had accidentally discovered—if only for an instant—the secret to using that biofield against gravity.
Ordinarily, even with that sudden burst of movement, he still would not have reached Diana before she retreated out of range.
Then a crimson light flashed in his eyes.
Doomsday raised one arm toward Diana.
The sharp bone spurs covering the back of his hand suddenly extended forward at explosive speed.
Like retractable spears, the spikes shot outward through the air.
Caught completely off guard, Wonder Woman was pierced through her right shoulder by several of them.
"—Ngh!"
The numbness and agony exploding through the joint where her arm connected to her shoulder nearly caused the Kryptonite sword to slip from her grasp.
Before she could tear herself free, the bone spikes impaling her suddenly transmitted the monstrous pulling force from the other end—
And Doomsday violently dragged her down to the earth.
Her impact with the ground triggered a massive explosion of debris and dust.
The sudden reversal left Diana with no room left to maneuver.
At this point, she could no longer afford to care how many times the Kryptonite sword might actually work against Doomsday.
With a sharp swing, Diana shifted her grip on the sword and, using her left hand, cut through the bone spike that had pierced her body.
The good news was that the effortless feeling when the blade severed it confirmed Diana's suspicion: the Kryptonite embedded in the mortal-forged sword was indeed effective against Doomsday.
The bad news was that she realized this far too late. In her current condition, she could no longer deliver a fatal blow.
"—Arghhh!!"
Enduring the searing, bone-deep pain, Diana reached out and pulled the broken bone spikes out of her body. The motion brought out even more blood, staining the ground beneath her in a widening crimson pool.
Under normal circumstances, removing foreign objects from such deep wounds without medical assistance would be unwise.
But Diana no longer had any other choice.
Those spikes not only restricted her joint movement—they were also clearly laced with something toxic to her.
The skin around her wounds was turning red, the injuries stinging sharply, and her healing factor was activating at a painfully slow rate.
Doomsday's roar echoed from somewhere beyond the smoke.
Wonder Woman tried to shift the Kryptonite sword from her left hand back to her dominant right hand—but failed.
Her senses should have allowed her to easily perceive everything through the smoke and dust. Instead, she could only hear the approaching threat without being able to precisely locate it.
It made her restless.
Her head rang. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and for a moment she felt as though her body could no longer keep up with her rapidly deteriorating consciousness.
She raised the Kryptonite sword in her left hand into a defensive stance.
At the same time, she felt a warm sensation in her nose. Her breathing grew slightly labored.
She weakly touched her upper lip with her injured right hand—and found only wet, sticky warmth.
Fresh blood coated her already blood-stained fingertips.
Diana understood then.
She had already lost from the very beginning.
She needed to find the single perfect strike among countless possibilities—only then could she kill Doomsday.
But Doomsday only needed one successful hit.
One wound was enough for his toxins to spread through her entire body, rapidly eroding her strength.
Her nerves were strained to their limit as she forced what little strength remained into her grip on the sword.
Like a beast caught in a trap, all she could do now was conserve her remaining energy and prepare for a final counterattack when Doomsday came to finish her off.
She hoped Joey had already found a solution.
Because this—this was all she could do.
Poisoned and weakened, Diana no longer expected victory. Her greatest hope now was simply to take Doomsday down with her in her final moment.
Or, failing that, to at least severely injure him and create an opening for the others.
From within the thick fog, the whirring roar of helicopter rotors began to cut through the air. At first it was distant and low, but within seconds it grew louder—impossible for either Diana or Doomsday to ignore.
Diana's consciousness grew increasingly hazy, while Doomsday halted his killing advance, locking his gaze onto a figure inside the approaching helicopter.
For the nearly unconscious Diana, her weakening condition could only be described as being poisoned.
But for Batman and Joey—modern humans arriving in the helicopter—it had a far more familiar name.
Radiation sickness.