The tension was palpable, thick in the air like smoke after an explosion. An invisible pressure blanketed the battlefield, and the green radiation licking at Solomon's skin felt like fire. His cells resisted instinctively, trying to adapt—but it was too slow. That resistance would take months to develop. He didn't have that kind of time.
His enhanced senses kicked in, expanding his awareness. He could feel the tremors in the atmosphere. He could hear the far-off beat of helicopter blades—reinforcements or bystanders, they would be here within seconds. His vision, now fully evolved, granted him a 360-degree view—his eyes eerily reminiscent of the Byakugan.
A kilometer away, his protective barriers still held. The fight had dragged away from their origin point, so he didn't have to worry—for now.
Focusing inward, Solomon heightened his nerves to the absolute limit. His brain blazed through calculations, analyzing millions of possibilities per second. Every detail of Batman's transformed armor was being dissected in real time.
He noticed the kryptonite-coated claws—razor-sharp, cutting through the earth as if it were paper.
Batman's posture had changed. More beast than man. The Overdrive boost hadn't just altered his power—it had transformed his mindset. Solomon also noticed something else.
The green light at Batman's chest—his energy core—had dimmed, ever so slightly.
It only lasted a fraction of a second.
No ordinary human would have caught it.
But Solomon wasn't human.
All of this registered in an instant as he scrambled to devise a plan.
Batman, however, didn't wait.
He blitzed toward Solomon at full speed, body low to the ground, almost crawling like a predator on all fours. The sheer velocity shattered the earth beneath his limbs. His glowing eyes locked onto Solomon like a lion locking onto prey.
In that moment, Solomon felt something unfamiliar.
He felt hunted.
Batman had once again surpassed him in speed, and Solomon had no time to dodge. He erected a barrier out of instinct—one that had evolved throughout the battle, reinforced to endure. It didn't matter.
The kryptonite claws sliced through it like mist.
Panic surged.
Solomon tried to launch himself into the air—desperation in his movements—but it was too late.
Slash!
Blood exploded across Batman's armor. Deep claw marks tore through Solomon's skin. The attack was so swift, the blood only sprayed a heartbeat later.
Suspended in the air, Solomon winced but refused to slow. Adrenaline dulled the pain, while his chaos energy surged instinctively, sealing his wounds mid-flight. The bleeding halted in an instant.
With a roar, Solomon summoned his next attack.
Glaciers formed around him—towering constructs of ice spanning nearly a kilometer wide. The temperature dropped to just a few degrees above absolute zero. The very air shimmered, the frost turning moisture into crystal dust.
The battlefield went still.
Then—BOOM!
The silence shattered. Batman had cut through the glacier like a blade through water, splitting it into cubes as he burst forward, now hurtling straight at Solomon again.
The sky itself reacted.
Dark clouds churned overhead, red light flickering within. Energy gathered. Lightning crackled.
Solomon narrowly dodged another strike as a thick bolt of scarlet lightning shot from the heavens, slamming into Batman. The ground beneath him blackened and cracked under the force.
Still, Solomon didn't pause. His imagination surged with newfound power. His control, his creativity—it all bloomed.
He pulled inspiration from the stories and legends he'd grown up reading, visualizing every ounce of knowledge from every form of fiction he'd ever consumed.
Batman, rising from the scorched earth, looked up—and froze.
There weren't one or two.
There were ten Solomons now.
All hovering around him, each radiating power, ready to strike.
But Batman didn't falter. His eyes narrowed, scanning the illusions.
And then, like a hunter finding the wounded deer, he locked on to one.
The real Solomon.
Not through logic alone, but through the primal, demonic instinct granted by his Overdrive state—he could smell it. Sense it.
Solomon's expression shifted.
Batman had seen through the illusion.
But it didn't matter.
Solomon wasn't done.
Red circles began appearing around Batman—mystic glyphs drawn with precision and fueled by chaos. From each circle, weapons began to emerge—blades, spears, halberds, all crimson in hue, all aimed at the Dark Knight.
Hundreds of them.
Each one crafted in an instant.
It was a scene ripped straight from fantasy, an homage to a legendary king of legends.
Solomon smirked.
Even now, he knew—this wasn't enough. Gilgamesh would probably laugh at his attempt, call it amateurish.
Despite their differing forms, the weapons were technically the same. No complexity, no divine authority. Just sheer volume and speed.
But Solomon didn't care.
"HAHAHA!" he roared with laughter, arms stretched wide.
"Thank you, Batman… you really bring out the best in me."
The sky thundered. The earth cracked. And above it all, two forces stood poised to end—or redefine—everything
Batman's beastly instincts grew stronger with every passing second. The hundreds of blades in the sky mad him feel cornered—trapped like a cat with no escape
But he wasn't prey.
He was the hunter.
His eyes flared brighter, burning with an eerie green fire, trails of emerald flame spilling from the corners like smoke from a raging furnace.
Solomon, unwavering, raised a single hand.
With a flick of his wrist, hundreds of blades screamed toward Batman—each one sharper than the sharpest sword forged by man. They tore through the sky with terrifying velocity, creating sonic booms in their wake. The sky itself seemed to split apart, the barrage blotting out the stars as the weapons locked on to their target.
Batman saw them coming. He didn't flinch.
Instead, he roared—deep, guttural, animalistic. His voice shook the battlefield.
Launching himself upward, he soared toward Solomon like a tiger pouncing from the shadows, the atmosphere itself igniting in his wake.
With feral grace, he tore through Solomon's barrage—slashing, dodging, weaving between the blades. Those he couldn't avoid, he ripped apart.
His claws, now monstrous in size, gleamed with kryptonite-coated fury.
Solomon didn't hesitate. He focused, pouring his will into a single, devastating spell—his largest yet.
A scarlet red sword materialized in the sky.
It was massive. Larger than an apartment complex, its edge radiated pure destructive energy. Compared to it, Batman looked like a slightly oversized insect.
The colossal blade fell.
The sky cried out as the air split before it. The blade came crashing down, cloaking Batman in its shadow.
But Batman didn't move.
He didn't dodge.
He refused to.
Instead, his claws retracted, and his monstrous hand clenched into a tight, glowing fist. He drew his arm back slowly—his whole body shaking from the pressure building within.
This would be his strongest strike yet.
He could have avoided the attack, but he didn't.
Five minutes had passed.
His mind was hanging on by a thread.
Only the iron discipline drilled into him by Tibetan monks, and his indomitable will, kept him from slipping into full-blown madness. Without that training, the suit would have consumed him in the first minute.
But even with that strength of will, his consciousness was fading fast. The suit's demonic instincts had nearly taken over.
They screamed in his head.
Don't dodge. Crush it. CRUSH IT.
How could a predator run from its prey?
How could he allow anyone to stand above him?
No—he would destroy everything in his path.
Batman's fist collided with the descending blade.
BOOM!!
For a second, all was still.
Solomon's eyes widened, sensing it before he heard it—
Crack.
The sound echoed through the battlefield.
A thin fracture splintered across the titanic blade, spiderwebbing outward.
Another crack followed.
Then another.
Until—SHATTER.
The sword exploded into pieces, disintegrating into glowing crimson dust. The battlefield fell silent, the last fragments of Solomon's ultimate spell raining down like dying stars.
But the impact had consequences.
Batman was flung downward, his body obeying the laws of nature.
CRASH!
He hit the earth like a meteor, the shockwave flattening the terrain around him.
Anyone else would have been broken.
Batman rose.
Slowly.
Like nothing had happened.
But Solomon saw the truth.
The fine cracks webbing across Batman's armor—the small fractures invisible to normal eyes. But not to his.
Solomon's heightened perception picked up every one of them.
The armor couldn't repair itself. The damage was building. The cracks were spreading.
Batman was breaking.
Solomon knew.
It was time to finish this.
He could feel it—the wall. The invisible threshold that had been holding him back this entire fight. He was right on the edge. One more push, and he might break through.
But not now.
This was the limit of what he could reach in this fight alone. He needed something more.
He needed the sun.
More specifically, the first light of morning.
He didn't understand why—but deep within, something told him that the very first rays of the sun held something special. Something sacred. They would amplify his power in a way nothing else could.
He just needed to wait until dawn. So until then, he had to defeat batman with his current limits