Barry is in the speed force once again, drowning in the psychedelic whorls as he tumbles without direction. Disoriented, he begins to panic, thrashing about in the unnatural and alien space. Dark, twisted shapes flit by, teasing his mind with brief impressions of ancient, unknowable horrors, before disappearing into the reds and yellows swirling around him. An image of Diana's face flashes in his mind.

*Can't lose it, keep it together.*

He closes his eyes, ignoring the ominous colors that still seep through. He slows his breathing, realizing that if he is breathing, he can't be drowning.

*And if I'm not drowning...*

Eyes squeezed shut, Barry finds that he can, in a way, feel which way is up. Focusing, he moves through the speed force, diving down before changing direction and zooming back up. Raising a hand above his head, he orients himself toward where he feels Lobo, speeding toward his destination through the nightmarish hellscape.

*This must be how Superman felt when he was flying.*

Opening his eyes at last, he clenches his fist as he senses himself approaching reality again.

*Eat $#!%, freak.*

With a blinding flash of light and a deafening CRACK, Barry Allen explodes from the speed force, his fist cleanly connecting with the pale juggernaut's jaw. Lobo falls backward, fragments of teeth flying as his head whips back violently. The large man slams to the pavement, only a few feet away.

Barry is already turning to the crumpled woman, wisps of smoke rising from his smoldering jacket. He kneels beside her and picks up her hand as she draws a shaky breath.

"Hey, Diana, you with me?"

Her eyes flutter open, and she struggles to focus on his face.

"Barry?"

He smiles, "Don't worry, I-"

"GOT YOU!"

Lobo's right hand closes around Barry's ankle. The youth shoots to his feet, letting out a guttural scream as his bones are ground into dust within his unnatural grip. Lobo rips the man's feet sideways, sending Barry flat to the ground. His head hits the shattered concrete and he loses focus, the gray sky above beginning to darken as his vision fades to black.

Lobo drops the mangled leg, rising to his feet and quickly turning on the fallen man. His gravelly voice echoes across the plaza as he screams wildly; his words punctuated by devastating stomps of his heavy boots to the prone figure's legs and lower abdomen.

"NEVER!"

-CRUNCH-

"INTERRUPT!"

-KRIK-

"ME!"

-TCHT-

"YOU!"

-KRAK-

"LITTLE!"

-SPLAT-

"B!%$#!"

-SQUELCH-

Breathing heavily, he spits onto the broken body as he reaches to his waist, palming a small pistol. Aiming the weapon at the bloodied man's face, he massages his jaw with his free hand. His finger snakes around the trigger mechanism, and the barrel begins to glow with murderous intent.

"Good shot, though."

The weapon is torn from his grasp as an impossibly heavy weight collides with him, pinning his arms to his sides. Furious, he twist himself around within the crushing grip of his attacker. Disbelief and shock wash over him, he finds himself staring into the mismatched eyes of Victor Stone; the hatred within the organic orb every bit as terrifying as the cold, uncaring red glow of the optical lens on the man's mechanical face.

The two skid to a stop, the rough ground tearing further into Lobo's back, the cyborg raining heavy blows down onto his face. The mercenary raises his left hand to protect his head as his right hand presses flat against the raging man's chest.

-KRAKOW-

Victor looks down to see Lobo's right wrist slides back into place at the end of his forearm, obscuring the smoking barrel concealed within the mechanical limb. His gaze travels lower, taking in the gaping hole in his partially mechanical torso. Viscera, tubes, and wires ooze from the ragged wound as the world grows dim. The red glow dulls behind his robotic eye, then darkens entirely.

Lobo pushes the metal man aside and clambers to his feet, ignoring the din of the cyborg clattering to the pavement. With a low growl, he removes the shredded remains of jacket from his torso and drops them absently to the ground. Ignoring the blood seeping from his various wounds, he looks about for his vehicle, spotting it among the burning wreckage of the Batwing. He begins to pick his way toward the hovercraft, moving through the ruins of the fallen city.

5 Minutes Earlier

"You, uh, you got a plan?"

Batman touches a gloved finger to his temple, activating a hidden control mechanism.

"Alfred, deploy the rail-gun."

His earpiece crackles, "What ammunition, sir?"

"...Him."

"Sir?"

"Do it."

"Sir."

In Gotham Harbor, the ice begins to crack and grumble, finally giving way as the cylindrical barrel rises slowly from the depths. Water streams from the mechanism, it turns and tilts, groaning against the salt deposits within it's gears. The weapon points west, aiming carefully to avoid the monolithic towers of Old Gotham. Trajectory locked in, the machine whirs with power, the sound growing in volume and pitch until-

-FWOOOOM-

A blur streaks out above the city, disappearing over the horizon too quickly to identify.

Now

Lobo hoists his craft upright and positions himself in the saddle. He powers up the engine and rises smoothly above the rooftops, surveying the smoking ruins of the city. A speck in the distance catches his eye.

*Haven't they realized they don't have any weapons that can touch me yet? This planet just refuses to give up.*

Turning to face the incoming object, he squints as he tries to identify it. Could it be possible threat, or simply an inconvenience?

*What is that? Is it a bird? A plane? No, it's-*

Superman's corpse tumbles through the air, the sonic boom building in it's wake as it punches into the menacing ship hovering above the bay. The ship shudders, with visible explosions along it's length. The body continues through the interior of the warship, ripping out the opposite side and flying up, up, and away, thrown skyward by the shockwave of the ship's core exploding in a vibrant display of colors.

The ship trembles and begins to break apart, great chunks falling into the churning water below. With the bulk of the behemoth descending toward the shore, the pilots once again find themselves in peril. The crowd surges as everyone now tries to return to the broken streets further into the city, hoping to escape the rain of burning metal.

A massive swell forms in the bay, growing in intensity as it nears the beach. Whitecaps begin to form in the wall of water reaching further into the sky. The wave breaks, almost seeming to turn back on itself. Impossibly large tentacles spring from the water, wrapping around the bulk of the falling wreckage, pulling the crashing ship safely back into the deeper waters. A ragged cheer goes up from the shoreline, as some stare in disbelief while the burning spacecraft sinks slowly beneath the waves.

"Well, %*#$ this."

Flipping a toggle on the center console to activate his Atmospheric Stabilizer, Lobo angles his craft vertically. Gripping the throttle, he roars into the heavens, fading into the smog above the smoldering wreckage of San Francisco.