The night was still young, the sky clear beneath a glowing crescent moon. The scorched earth blackened the battlefield, cracked and broken. Small craters and shattered ground stood as evidence of the monumental fight that had taken place earlier.
Batman stood in the center, clad in an advanced suit unlike any before. A green, ominous light pulsed from the center of his chest, radiating energy throughout the reinforced armor.
This suit had been specifically designed not just to counter Solomon, but any average Kryptonian. It couldn't match Superman, not entirely—but it didn't need to.
"What have you done?" Batman growled, his voice heavy with restrained fury.
His gloved fists clenched as he surveyed the bodies strewn across the field. His suit's sensors confirmed they were still alive—but with magic, nothing was ever certain.
"Aaah, Batman," a mocking voice called out. "The main star of the show."
Solomon stepped forward, his tone playful yet tinged with menace.
"I was disappointed when you ran away. Seems I was wrong after all."
"You don't have to worry about them," he continued casually. "I just put them to sleep. They were far too weak to be a challenge."
Solomon watched closely, trying to read any hint of emotion. But Batman gave him nothing.
The suit didn't just protect Batman physically—it cloaked him mentally as well. Solomon had intended to win by reading Batman's mind, predicting his every move before it happened. But that plan was no longer an option. The armor was sealed, reinforced with magic and built to resist mental intrusion.
A flicker of unease crossed Solomon's face. This was not just any Batman. This was the man who had fought Darkseid—fist to fist—and lived to tell the tale. Solomon had studied Batman's every known battle, but this… this suit, this presence, was different. The tech was shielded, protected by spells and future science.
"You think killing villains makes the world a better place?" Batman asked, probing again.
Batman dropped into a battle stance. Every muscle in his body tightened, ready for action.
"It just makes another one," he replied coldly.
Fwoosh!
In an instant, Batman vanished from Solomon's view. Solomon's eyes widened—he barely caught the afterimage. He jumped back on instinct, but Batman was already within his guard.
Before Solomon could react, a powerful right hook crashed into his jaw. Time seemed to freeze. The air twisted violently—and then, boom—a crater exploded beneath him as he was sent flying.
Batman's suit resembled a refined, lighter version of the Hellbat armor but instead of red linging, it was instead green, powered by the radioactive kryptonite.
This was inspired by metallo, one of supermans villains. improved with advanced future technology, enchanted with powerful magic, and forged with some of the hardest known materials, it was a marvel of warfare. Not indestructible—but close.
As his outstretched hand glowed green, the light slowly faded. Batman turned, eyes locked on the direction Solomon had flown, and blurred forward again.
Solomon's mind reeled as he tumbled through the air. Adrenaline surged, his senses sharpening. He focused, slowing himself mid-flight. Finally, he skidded to a halt, spitting blood onto the ground.
He had underestimated Batman—but he always planned contingencies.
Wiping his mouth, Solomon summoned a barrier and concentrated, channeling pure chaos energy into his brain.
Suddenly, his perception changed. No—the way he perceived the world changed. He could already see on a cellular level, but now… now it was molecular. His brain processed data at blinding speeds, doubling his cognitive power.
Before he could fully appreciate the surreal clarity, Batman was upon him again, dashing forward with terrifying velocity. Solomon barely managed to raise an angled barrier. Batman's punch curved off it, throwing off his balance slightly.
Solomon seized the chance, launching a jab at Batman's jaw, aiming to break the mask. But it was a mistake.
Even with access to nearly every martial arts video known, it was nothing compared to the real thing.
Batman had already adapted. Using the momentum of the missed punch, he twisted into a curved kick. It struck Solomon's arms with a sickening crack.
There was no time to react. Another brutal punch connected, slamming Solomon into the concrete below. He bounced like a basketball on impact.
Solomon felt his defence slightly weaken, as the green light on batmans fist touched his skin.
Batman pressed the assault. Blow after blow. Solomon had no time to breathe, let alone counter. His body tried to heal rapidly, but Batman's relentless barrage outpaced his regeneration.
More than a hundred strikes landed in under a second.
Just before unconsciousness took him, Solomon saw a flicker—an opening. Still airborne, he grabbed Batman's arm mid-punch and twisted, using the momentum to propel himself away.
He staggered, breathing heavily, his wounds knitting back together in seconds. He had known brute strength or skill alone wouldn't be enough—not against Batman. So he bet on his intellect, his ability to learn.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance: to witness and absorb the techniques of the greatest martial artist the world had ever known.
Throughout the fight, Solomon focused on every movement, every angle, every counter. He tried to memorize it all.
But Batman's fighting style was almost inhuman. Even with a Kryptonian's mind enhanced by chaos energy, deciphering it was a near-impossible task.
And yet, it made sense—if you knew Batman's feats. This was the man who fought gods. Who had traded blows with Darkseid using nothing but skill—and landed hits as a mortal. Only Batman could do that.
Still, the human body had limits. Your range of movement are finite. All solomon had to do, was calculate all of the possible was Batman would kick, punch. Any way he could attack or defend was deing calculated.
And slowly, Solomon began to see the pattern.
He dodged a kick aimed at his chest. His combat ability improved with each moment. The fists that once seemed to teleport were now narrowly avoided.
The impossible techniques began to unravel in his mind.
What had been a one-sided beating turned into a breathtaking duel. A graceful dance of precision—dodging, weaving, countering. Each tried to break the other's defense. Shockwaves erupted as fists, kicks, sweeps, and counters met in midair.
Eventually, both fighters blurred beyond recognition—motion turned abstract as they clashed at godlike speeds.
Batman noticed the shift and adjusted immediately. His combat experience gave him the edge. Without hesitation, he altered his strategy. The armor responded. His hand morphed, shifting seamlessly into a blaster.
A charged energy blast surged from the cannon—aimed directly at Solomon's face.
Solomon instictively used magic, as a barrier deflected the blast. Solomon, inexperienced could not react fast enough as kryptonite lined batterangs stabbed into his thighs and stomach.
Batman surged forward, trying to seize the opening with blinding speed—but Solomon's mind moved faster.
A spark of scarlet lightning crackled behind him. Thunder boomed as a glowing orb of energy formed, flickering with chaotic light. In an instant, it shot toward Batman like a cannonball of pure force.
Predicting its trajectory with razor precision, Batman twisted mid-dash, narrowly dodging the blast—but it slowed him just enough.
That hesitation was all Solomon needed.
Spikes of gnarled wood erupted from the ground like spears, surging toward Batman with devastating force. The Dark Knight leapt and twisted, evading the first wave, but they kept coming, pressing him back.
With a flick of his hand, Solomon telekinetically yanked buried batarangs from the ground—his own twisted trophies—embedding them mid-air with precise spacing. Energy surged through them, morphing them into glowing blades of pure chaos energy, sharper than anything he'd ever created.
Solomons attack covered the sky, as he created hundreds of blades
They cut through the air so cleanly, they made no sound. A silent storm of death.
Batman ducked and weaved, cape twisting, but there were hundreds. Even with all his skill, the assault began to chip away at his armor.
Deep scratches etched into the reinforced plating. The suit groaned under the pressure.
And then—a tremor.
Solomon felt it. The mental barrier that held him back, restrained his potential—it was crumbling. He felt it breaking like glass beneath his thoughts. His eyes gleamed. His excitement bloomed.
Batman's movements, once impossible to track, were now visible—clear. Solomon could see them before they happened. His punches landed harder. Shockwaves burst with every impact.
Batman noticed.
Solomon was evolving in real-time.
He was learning, adapting—too quickly. The Dark Knight realized the battle was shifting. What had once been a clear advantage was now a stalemate. And that, Batman knew, wouldn't last long.
Crack!
A heavy blow slammed into his chest. His ribs screamed, nearly breaking. Solomon's attacks weren't just faster—they were piercing the armor.
Batman gritted his teeth, relying now not on strength, but sheer experience—years of combat, of impossible odds.
Across from him, Solomon stood in ragged, torn pants—his upper body bare, blood and sweat staining his skin. He didn't bother with his ruined suit. Fixing it would only slow him down.
"Solomon—enough!" Batman roared.
A pulse of green radiation exploded from his chest, blasting Solomon back across the battlefield.
Solomon landed hard, then grinned wide, eyes wild.
"Please don't tell me this is your limit," he said with a laugh. "I haven't had enough yet."
His heart pounded in his chest. His nervous system fired at maximum capacity.
Adrenaline surged. He couldn't stop—not now. He hadn't broken the wall yet.
Batman looked at Solomon's face—and in it, saw that dangerous hunger.
He didn't want to do it.
But now he had no choice.
Deep in his mind, Batman recalled a specific moment—standing before a certain cigarette-smoking magic user who had warned him about this suit's final feature.
Overdrive Mode.
It was the last resort. The ultimate edge.
Batman had been reluctant to accept it, especially after Constantine's warning. But Fate was missing. Zatanna couldn't fully grasp the spellwork needed. So it had been John who helped build this function—and warned of its terrible cost.
The suit would activate a temporary demonic state—ten minutes fueled by the kryptonite core energy.
But the cost wasn't physical.
It was mental.
The more he used it, the more his mind would fray—until all that remained was a brutal, mindless weapon. Batman had sworn never to kill. He couldn't kill. That line was the one thing keeping him grounded.
But now… he had to believe in his own willpower—that he could end this before it went too far.
"This won't go the way you think, Solomon," Batman said, his voice low and mechanical. A terrifying echo in the silence.
"Ooh? Why not?" Solomon raised an eyebrow, curious. Confident.
He scanned the field. No backup. No Justice League. Batman was truly alone.
And then—he felt it.
A sudden wave of green radiation washed over him. His body reacted immediately—slight, but noticeable weakness in his limbs. Minuscule, yet in a fight of this scale, it could mean everything.
He looked up.
Under the night sky, the air shimmered. In that lonely corner of the world, it was as if a small green star had descended from the heavens.
Then he heard it—Clang. Clang.
The creaking and twisting of metal.
Solomon felt a chill.
Batman's armor shifted—growing, sharpening, taking on a monstrous form. The green light intensified, outlining a demonic silhouette. Blades jutted from the shoulders. Horns curled from the mask. He no longer looked human.
He looked like a predator.
Solomon's grin widened in awe.
This… this was what he had waited for.
Batman, now resembling a metallic demon, slowly raised his glowing eyes.
The transformation was nearly complete.
He remembered Constantine's warning—this form didn't just amplify strength, speed, and durability. It fed on darkness. On violence. On rage.
He had ten minutes.
Ten minutes before he lost control.
Ten minutes to end it.
Solomon's hesitation vanished, replaced by euphoria.
"HAHAHAHA!" he laughed maniacally.
"I knew you had more in you, Batman! There was no way the great Batman could be defeated so easily!"
Chaos had started to influence him, as the fight went on. Solomon either did not notice or care as he laughed.
He laughed louder, energized by the monster before him.
And Batman said nothing.
He simply stood in silence, the wind blowing against his new, feral form. The green light pulsed like a heartbeat. His mask no longer looked like a bat. It looked like a demon. The symbol of fear, brought to life.
High above, the stars watched silently.
Far from the eyes of the world, the final showdown had begun.
Only a handful of beings—watchers of realms and time—would ever witness what came next.
Sorry dear readers for the wait. I know I broke my schedule, but I am trying my best. I am having fun creating this, and I hope you are too.
I know some of you out there will be mad that the story is not comic accurate, but I wrote this for fun, adding my own twist too it. Please do not expect it to follow the main timeline.
Also I am thinking of writing another fanfic in the future. I will only start on it after I pass my 30th chapter.