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"If you are the God of Death..." Harley grinned weakly, "...then you must be the most handsome one."
"God of Death? Heh... for some things, I am."
Homelander gave a light chuckle, looking down at the Parademons roaring at him and the Supermans Shock Troops firing their weapons.
"So noisy, aren't they?"
Harley nodded subconsciously: "A bit..."
"Then let's make them quiet."
After saying that.
His eyes lit up instantly, turning into two crimson Suns.
"Zzzzzzzzz——!!!"
High-energy Heat Vision shot out from his eyes.
Without any extra movement, he simply turned his neck slightly.
Like the scythe of the God of Death, it drew arcs of death in the air.
"Sizzle! Sizzle! Sizzle!"
Whether it was the heavily armored Supermans Shock Troops or the thick-skinned Parademons.
Under the sweep of the Heat Vision, they were all sliced into two or more pieces.
"Aaaaaah——"
The screams only lasted for a few seconds.
The ambush unit that had just driven Batman and Harley into a desperate situation had now turned into smoking charred fragments on the ground.
Homelander retracted his gaze, the red light in his eyes gradually fading, once again displaying a warm and friendly smile... Below.
Batman, Bruce Wayne, slowly stood up from behind cover.
He still tightly gripped the rifle with only a few bullets left, but his body was as stiff as a stone.
That red and blue figure.
Those eyes that could fire Heat Vision.
And the posture of floating in the air.
In that instant, he felt as if he saw his former friend.
A name almost subconsciously burst out of his throat.
"Clark...?"
Bruce's voice trembled slightly, carrying a long-suppressed hope.
"Is it you? Clark?"
"You've finally... returned?"
If Clark had broken free from the Anti-Life Equation's control... if he had returned... then this desperate World might still have hope.
However, the figure slowly descended.
When those red combat boots stepped on the ash-covered ground, the man turned around.
Bruce finally saw the other person's face clearly.
It wasn't Clark Kent.
Although they both had strong bodies, handsome faces, and even similar hairstyles.
But this man's temperament was completely different from Clark's.
Clark's gaze, even before his fall, carried a sense of divine detachment.
But the man before him.
His eyes were full of "humanity."
Confident, flamboyant, and his face wore a friendly smile that Clark never had.
That kind of smile often appeared on his friend, the former hope of justice in Gotham, Harvey Dent.
Homelander carried Harley to a broken wall and carefully set her down, letting her lean against the corner.
"Hang in there, girl." Homelander reached out and helped her tidy the hair stuck to her face by blood, "Your makeup is ruined, but it doesn't affect your beauty."
"Heh... cough, cough..."
Harley laughed and coughed up a large mouthful of blood.
"You really know how to... please a girl..."
Her complexion quickly turned grey, a sign of massive life force loss.
Bruce ignored his doubts and ran over quickly, kneeling by Harley's side. He pulled a can of blue emergency medical gel from his belt and frantically sprayed it on the wound on Harley's abdomen.
"Press down on it! Harley! Don't sleep!"
Bruce's voice was trembling.
The gel sealed the surface wound, but blood still seeped out from the gaps.
It was too late.
Internal organ rupture, massive bleeding. In this apocalypse where medical resources were extremely scarce, this was a death sentence.
Harley watched Bruce's frantic movements and reached out her blood-covered hand, pressing down on Bruce's wrist.
"No!" Bruce stubbornly pressed on her wound, "I'll take you back! Cyborg will have a way!"
"It's no use, Bruce." Harley interrupted him.
At this moment, her eyes were terrifyingly clear.
It was as if the Doctor she once was had returned to this shell in the final moments of her life.
"I knew this day would come... from the day I picked up this baseball bat..."
She gasped, every breath accompanied by sharp pain in her lungs.
"Looks like... I really messed up this time."
"No, you saved me." Bruce gripped her hand tightly; this man who had been calm his whole life was now experiencing emotional turmoil, "You did well, Harley."
"That's good then..." Harley showed a weak smile.
"Listen... Bat... I have one last thing to ask of you."
Her gaze changed. Deep in her pupils, a fire ignited.
"That bastard..."
Harley didn't say a name, but Bruce knew who she was referring to.
The Joker.
"He's still out there... I know you'll find him. In this damn World, you need him, right? You need to use that madman..."
Bruce fell silent.
Yes.
To fight Superman, to steal the Mother Box and reverse time, he had to ally with the Joker.
It was a desperation like drinking poison to quench thirst.
"Harley..."
"Promise me, Bruce!"
Harley suddenly used her last bit of strength to shout loudly, even coughing up blood from the effort.
"Look at me! Promise me!"
She stared fixedly into Batman's eyes.
"If one day... when you have to kill him..."
"...You must kill him slowly."
"Don't let him die too quickly."
"Make him feel the pain... make him feel the torture..."
Bruce looked at her and finally, slowly, nodded.
"I promise."
Hearing these words, the tension in Harley's body finally relaxed.
She leaned back against the wall, her gaze beginning to wander.
"That's good... that's good..."
Harley's gaze slowly moved and landed on Homelander, who was squatting nearby.
She looked at Homelander's deep blue eyes; they were the cleanest color she had ever seen in her life.
"Hey... handsome." Harley looked at Homelander, as if Harley Quinn's playful soul had returned.
"You speak so nicely... and the way you saved me just now, that posture... so cool."
She struggled to lift her hand, wanting to touch Homelander's face.
Homelander cooperatively squatted down, caught her hand, and pressed it against his cheek.
"Hehe... so cute." She giggled, her fingers lightly brushing over Homelander's face, leaving a few red marks on his clean skin.
"Do you think... you can handle me?"
"Most men can't..." Her voice grew smaller and smaller, her eyelids heavier and heavier.
"But I really want you to try... really..."
"But unfortunately... I'm dying..."
Her hand slipped down weakly, coming to rest on Homelander's chest.
"Finally, can I... die in your kiss?"
Harley closed her eyes, her eyelashes trembling, waiting for the final warmth.
Bruce, standing aside, turned his head, unable to watch any longer.
"No."