Ultraman2 nodded. “When we announce to the world that we intend to allow the heroes to deal with the threat that I’m hesitant to deal with myself—all in order to enact our plan to ‘prune’ the branches of the Syndicate—Owlman takes the bait.”

Clark nodded to himself. “As I thought he might.”

Ultraman2 returned the nod. “But what we DIDN’T count on was Owlman convincing Power Ring and Johnny Quick as easily as he did that it was time for a coup and, by beating the enemy that we were ‘afraid’ of going after, that it would PROVE to the world that they were deserving of leading the Syndicate.”

Clark frowned.

“They called in every single Lieutenant and Made Man they had, and went after Manhattan,” Ultraman2 continued coldly. “Wayne even emptied Arkham Penitentiary… promising the inmates full and unconditional pardons if they survived.”

Clark raised an eyebrow in surprise. “And they went along with it?”

Ultraman2 snorted a harsh laugh. “You KNOW what Wayne does to the inmates in there, Clark… you’ve heard the stories. I ask you: who WOULDN’T go along with the offer, just to be able to get out of there? Even if it was only to die?”

Clark waved away the concern. “I don’t care about the inmates. I meant Haarolds and Johnny. They actually believed that Owlman would share leadership of the Syndicate with them?”

Ultraman2 chuckled. “No, even THEY’RE not that stupid. They were more looking at our territories being divided up between them.”

Clark frowned. “’Our’?”

“Ours and Lois’,” Ultraman2 clarified.

Clark fell silent, waiting for his other self to continue.

“I’m not sure how he did it, but Owlman found Doctor Manhattan before the heroes did,” Ultraman2 explained. “They attacked… and failed. They DID hurt him, though.”

“Which is why Manhattan came to our universe,” Ultraman concluded. “For payback.”

Ultraman2 nodded in agreement. “And, not long after that, the heroes faced him and defeated him.” Ultraman2 replied, his voice flat. “Despite what he might say, Manhattan isn’t as far removed from his humanity as he espouses. And, as I said, Owlman hurt him.” Ultraman2 fell silent, a haunted look filling his eyes as he turned away. “And, after Owlman hurt him, he wanted payback.”

            An uneasy feeling took root in Clark’s stomach.

            “It doesn’t compare, you know?” Ultraman2 said in a strained, soft voice. Motioning to Clark’s pile of research, the future-Ultraman shook his head. “You read about it… saw the movie… but to see it in person? To see that kind of power right in front of you? To stand in front of HIM?” He shook his head once more, clenching his eyes shut. “Wayne angered him, Clark, when he hurt him. And what Manhattan did… the things he did in retribution for that pain Wayne caused him…?” Ultraman2 shook his head, glancing away.

“Optimus said he’d received a visitor,” Ultraman stated. Raising an eyebrow, he nodded to his future self. “You?”

            “No,” the other Ultraman replied. “The future version of himself, actually.” A tiny smile lifted one corner of Ultraman2’s mouth. “I heard that, initially, he was just as skeptical of his visitor as you were of yours.”

            “We’re working WITH Optimus?” Clark asked, genuinely shocked.

            “And a few others that survived. We needed his access to the New Genesys tech he’d acquired through working with Metron,” the future-Ultraman explained, holding up the control sleeve on his left arm. “Without it, we couldn’t have modified and reprogrammed the Mother Box for time-travel.”

            Ultraman held up a hand. “Hold on a second,” he stated. “Optimus has access to some of Metron’s New Genesys tech?” he asked.

            “From when we all fought Absolom,” Ultraman2 supplied. “Optimus formed an alliance with Metron that, apparently, still stands to this day.”

Taking in the information, Clark motioned to the control sleeve. “A Boom Tube?”

            The future-Ultraman nodded, glancing at the sleeve’s power readout. “It’s taken QUITE a bit of power for me to reach this timeperiod—I think Brainiac commented that it takes the equivalent output of a star’s ENTIRE energy to breach the continuum—but with the stakes being what they are…?”

            Ultraman held up a hand. “Wait one moment,” he demanded. “You burned out an entire STAR to travel back in time?”

            “WE did, Optimus and I,” the other Ultraman corrected sternly. “And we’ll burn out another one to return. Which should tell you exactly how serious the matter is.”

            Silence fell across the room, broken only by the soft hum of the computers.

            “What did Manhattan do?” Clark asked, finally.

            Ultraman2 softly exhaled. “There’s not much left of the Earth… literally. Fragments, mainly. Deprived of the gravitational mass needed to hold it in place, the Moon was catapulted off into deep space.”

            “But… that’s not what would happen,” Clark objected. “If the Earth were destroyed, the Moon would simply enter its own orbit around the Sun.”

            “And it would have, had it not been given a little ‘boost’ by Manhattan,” Ultraman2 added. He motioned vaguely upwards. “He even made some of the Earth’s fragments orbit the Moon, as a reminder to us of what he can do.”

            “’Us’?” Clark asked.

            Ultraman2 nodded. “The survivors.”

            “Who?” Clark queried.

            “Us—obviously—as well as Optimus,” Ultraman2 replied. “Titan, Ultima, Captain Terror, Brainiac… and Luthor.”

            Clark waited for his other self to continue and, when he didn’t, narrowed his eyes in confusion. “And?” he pressed.

            “And… that’s it,” Ultraman2 stated softly.

            “What about Lois?” Clark asked, a note of urgency to his words.

            Ultraman2 remained silent, though the tightening of the muscles along his jaw spoke volumes.

            The anger blossomed deep within Clark’s chest at the unspoken knowledge. “All because of Owlman,” he rumbled dangerously.

            “All because of US,” Ultraman2 corrected sternly. “We let our ego get in the way, Clark… and it cost us EVERYTHING. More than even you know. More than you’re aware of.”

            “OUR ego?” Clark repeated, confused. “But it was Owlman--?”

            Ultraman2 nodded. “We had the chance to stop him, and we let him go. Because of his past relationship with Lois.” He grunted a bitter laugh. “We knew he’d fail against Manhattan, but we wanted him punished, because of what he and Lois once…” He fell silent, his eyes closing tightly against the pain. After a moment, Ultraman2 opened his eyes once more, staring intently at Clark. “We LET him go out of nothing more than sheer SPITE,” he finished softly.

            “And it’s us—you and I—that paid the price,” Clark added, seeing where his other self was going.

            “And Lois.”

            Clark pointed a finger at Ultraman2, shaking his head as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “No. This is much more than us just losing Lois,” Clark insisted. “It’s almost as if…” His words died off, a horrified expression stealing across his face as he made the connection. Shaking his head firmly, the Tyrant of Steel slashed a hand through the air defiantly, as if the action alone could stop it from being true. “No,” he snapped harshly.

            Not meeting Ultraman’s eyes, Ultraman2 nodded ever so faintly.

            Shaking his head once more, Clark’s hands clenched into fists as his eyes blazed. “No,” he repeated, his voice insistent.

            “Right now… Lois is being visited in her dreams by the Greek Pantheon of Gods.” Ultraman2’s words were whisper soft, yet full of bitter grief. Looking up to the ceiling and to the right, a wistful smile touched his lips as he closed his eyes. “Queen Hera—and the rest of the Gods and Goddesses—are giving Lois their blessings, and giving our as-yet-unborn child their gifts.”

            Without having to even look, Clark knew in his soul that his other self was looking straight at the bedroom he and Lois shared.

            “She tells us when she wakes up,” Ultraman2 continued. “At breakfast.”

            As swiftly as the smile appeared, it vanished even more suddenly as Ultraman2’s eyes blazed in fury… and self-loathing. At his sides, his fists tightened in rage that was barely restrained, until Clark could hear the tendons creaking with strain.

            “Our ego, Clark cost us MUCH more than just Lois,” Ultraman2 snarled. “It cost us our FAMILY, Clark. Our wife… and our daughter.”

            Clark wasn’t aware of dropping to his knees on the floor, or of his own hands tightening into trembling fists. He wasn’t aware of the deep, primal growl of fury that began to build in his chest, or even of the burning anger that blazed from his enraged eyes, illuminating the entire room in ruby light. His rage continued to build, desperately seeking an outlet… yet knowing that he, himself, was at fault for the pain he now suffered.

            All he was aware of was his other self’s statement.

            It cost us our FAMILY, Clark. Our wife… and our daughter.

            A hand gently settled on Clark’s shoulder.

            Lifting his head, his eyes still blazing, Clark met Ultraman2’s own sorrowful eyes.

            “I know how you feel, Clark, but we can stop it,” Ultraman2 stated gently. “We have time.”