Chapter 468: Those Who Once Were Great (Part 1)

Gray Mist, a mysterious symbiote created by the Symbiote God Nal, was initially believed by Shi Ler to have been fashioned by Nal as a means of escape.

But now it seemed that this mysterious symbiote's abilities had far exceeded the scope of merely aiding Nal's prison break.

Yet Shi Ler could imagine that when Nal created this unique symbiote, he may have harbored greater ambitions—perhaps seeking a stronger body, or wishing to transform his own life form, ascending to a higher order of being.

Shi Ler did not know what kind of life form Nal, a chaotic demon god, considered perfect, but now it appeared that Gray Mist had drawn immeasurably close to that standard.

What kind of life form is truly perfect?

This question is hard to answer definitively, but Shi Ler felt Gray Mist's life form was nearly perfect because it held more possibilities than any other form—this existence, with almost no weaknesses, was not an endpoint, but a starting point.

g.

Since acquiring this symbiote, Shi Ler had noticed three traits of Gray Mist: first, a parrot; second, a picky eater; third, an insatiable alcoholic.

Setting aside the first and third traits, Gray Mist was indeed extremely picky—he showed no interest in ordinary human brains, barely even glancing at them; he was only drawn to the minds of men like Bruce or Stark—or rather, not merely intelligent men, but geniuses among millions.

Of course, this was only Gray Mist's childhood diet; at that stage, he still retained some traits of ordinary symbiotes, drawn to certain special substances produced in the brain, but later he grew increasingly selective.

After the Nal feeding incident, Gray Mist devoured a massive wave of energy from Nal, and since then, he had lost even mild interest in Stark's brain—he now craved pure energy.

Since his first consumption had been primordial cosmic chaos energy, he had grown even more finicky; Shi Ler had not heard him cry out in hunger for a very long time.

This time, facing the kryptonite sealing the monster egg, Gray Mist felt hunger—this puzzled Shi Ler. Could these kryptonite stones truly have something special?

Perhaps there was precedent: even the Doomsday creature still in its egg was not easily contained, yet the light emitted by these kryptonite stones severely suppressed its life activity.

"Are you sure you really want to eat this? It's radioactive—are you sure you won't get diarrhea?"

"No!" Gray Mist swallowed hard in Shi Ler's mind.

"Alright, let's think—how do we deal with this egg and dig out these kryptonite stones for you to eat…"

"Just move it!"

"But where? If we throw it into the sun or a black hole, it might hatch prematurely; if we move it somewhere safe without kryptonite suppression, it could hatch soon anyway…"

"The ring…" Gray Mist suddenly offered an answer Shi Ler had never anticipated.

"Ring? What ring? Oh—you mean the one you made before?"

Shi Ler quickly understood Gray Mist's meaning and looked down at the gray ring on his hand.

When Shi Ler first spoke with Green Lantern, he copied one of Green Lantern's abilities—but since Green Lantern's power came from the lantern itself, the system could not directly replicate the lantern, so it copied a function of the ring instead: "World Within the Ring."

Many people's understanding of Green Lantern is limited to glowing green bodies, teleportation, and energy blasts—common abilities—but in Green Lantern comics, it was mentioned that Hal Jordan's ring contained an independent world.

In the comics, Hal once shrunk his defeated foes, digitized them, and sealed them inside the ring's world, where they could survive indefinitely; Hal himself had also once been trapped within the ring.

Shi Ler remembered that when he first gained the "World Within the Ring" ability, he had briefly entered it—he appeared on a floating island, beneath which lay a vast city shrouded in mist, with faint, colossal monster shadows lurking within.

At that time, Shi Ler had not yet fully stabilized in either the Marvel or DC worlds, so exploring the ring's world was pushed far down his priority list—in short, he had forgotten about it.

With Gray Mist's presence, Shi Ler had no need to use the ring for storage or transport, so he had long forgotten this function—until now, when Gray Mist suggested using it to contain the monster egg, which truly sparked Shi Ler's insight.

He stood at the center of the platform, gazing at the massive monster egg, lost in thought.

He recalled that in the comics, Hal used Green Lantern energy to shrink his target infinitely, then imprisoned them within a mental force field, finally encoding them into the ring's world.

But Shi Ler did not possess a Green Lantern ring—he could hardly replicate Hal's exact process. How to proceed? Only practice would reveal the truth.

Seeing Shi Ler approach the monster egg, Lex and Bruce halted their surveying and gathered around him. Bruce walked over and asked: "You have a plan?"

"I have some ideas, but success is uncertain—I suggest you leave."

Shi Ler glanced at Clark; Clark had already exited the hollow and waited in the corridor outside—he was too weak, and staying longer might cause him to faint.

Bruce said nothing. Lex made no comment. Shi Ler continued: "It's not that I don't want you to witness this process—it's because I have no guarantee, and you're both ordinary humans…"

"If something goes wrong—say, the monster hatches early, or the kryptonite radiation suddenly surges—you two could die here."

Bruce opened his mouth. He didn't seem to resist Shi Ler's request for them to leave—he studied Shi Ler from head to toe, paused, then studied him again from head to toe. Shi Ler felt a chill crawl up his spine.

Just as Shi Ler was about to ask what Bruce was staring at, Bruce hesitated and said: "... Are you having an anxiety attack?"

"I..." Shi Ler was stunned by the question.

"You look different from usual."

"How?"

Bruce pursed his lips: "In the past, during that exact moment of hesitation, you'd already start listing psychology exam scores, internship opportunities, next semester's assignments, Wayne Manor visits, Alfred and Aisha and Dick—threatening me with all of it..."

Shi Ler lowered his head and muttered: "He... am I a monster?"

"Alright, alright..." Shi Ler extended his hand toward Lex and Bruce: "The method I'm considering involves magic—it's outside your expertise, but I can explain the general principle."

"Simply put—I possess a special space, an independent world. I intend to move this egg inside it, so even if it hatches, it won't threaten the real world."

Bruce and Lex exchanged a glance, nodded to each other, then turned and walked away.

Bruce supported Clark as they left the underground hollow and returned to the previous hall. Lex said to Bruce: "I know you planted micro-cameras along the way, but this is Metropolis—my territory..."

"But we can talk," Bruce said, unusually patient—perhaps due to his recognition of Lex's intellect, he was willing to explain things to someone as intelligent as himself.

Meanwhile, Clark, having left the underground hollow saturated with kryptonite radiation, finally felt somewhat better—though the walls of the hall were still entirely kryptonite, even the corridors leading out.

Prolonged weakness left Clark feeling miserable; he only wanted to leave. Moreover, he understood nothing of Bruce and Lex's conversation and had no interest in it—he decided to wait above ground until Professor Shi Ler resolved the egg, then deal with the subterranean radiation later.

So he began walking out. Bruce and Lex were deep in negotiation and paid him no mind. Clark, dragging his weakened body, reached the cellar.

In the cellar, the radiation had diminished significantly; Clark regained some strength. Though still weak, he could now use his abilities.

This lifted his spirits slightly. He stood at the cellar exit, opened the door, and took off straight into the air.

The instant he rose, he heard "rat-a-tat-tat"—gunfire. Then dozens of agents burst from surrounding bushes, bullets pouring like rain onto the cellar door.

From the agents' perspective, as soon as the cellar door opened, all their sights locked onto it, ensuring they could hit anyone emerging immediately.

A normal person exiting a cellar would climb a ladder slowly—slow enough for a few bullets to kill them.

But Clark was different—he flew out directly, and fast. The agents saw a shadow shoot out, instinctively fired—but by then, Clark was already several meters in the air.

Clark froze for a moment, then an endless tide of rage consumed him. Superman stood for justice and kindness—but he was not without temper.

First, he was trapped here trying to save people; then, attacked without cause by these agents; then, after fighting them, he fell asleep only to suffer a devastating nightmare. Even Clark's patience had reached its limit.

Alfred and Kyla, watching from the sixth-floor window of the manor, both frowned.

Alfred had absolute confidence: Bruce could never fall for such a childish trap. Honestly, these agents' firepower didn't match the usual gang wars on Gotham's Elizabeth Street.

Not even Batman, who fought crime in Gotham's nights, nor ordinary Gothamites, could survive such firepower—if they couldn't dodge it, they'd be dead countless times over.

But Bruce's response baffled Alfred—who was this flying man?

At that moment, they saw every bullet fired by the agents freeze in midair.

Then, an unstoppable circular shockwave erupted from Clark's body, hurling everything around him backward.

In the agents' vision as they hit the ground, Clark shot skyward like a rocket, descending like a god through a blizzard.