Infinite universes.
Infinite possibilities.
Infinite yellow suns, giving off infinite amounts of energy.
I think I'm starting to get the hang of this.
In the amorphous ether on the outside of the universe, the usual rules don't apply. I can reach into an infinite amount of possibilities and pull out what I need. That's what gives me the sudden surge of energy to meet Zod strength for strength, blow for blow. At least, scientifically speaking. I'm given greater strength from something far more powerful than hate, more profound than rage: unlike Zod, I have hope.
He swings with another blow, but I duck under it. The swath of kinetic energy caused merely by his fist cutting through the void spreads for miles and more, slamming into the Source Wall and growing the cracks in it. I fire back with a hard left hand that catches him just under the eye, and the shockwave is even bigger.
Zod tumbles away for a moment, but before I can follow up, he's regained his bearings, and rushes at me like a torpedo. I dodge the big uppercut he throws, but it's only a distraction: as he passes me by, he suddenly spins around and kicks me in the head. The blow sends me tumbling back towards the Wall...
...and for a second, I see what this battle is doing to the world on the other side.
History is knotting up as different events from different timelines pile upon each other. The rules of physics bend and blur. Matter and energy switch roles, and I'm the only one who can perceive it.
Reality is on the blink.
Zod catches me on the chin with an elbow, and Hitler has won World War II.
I answer it with a knee to the ribs, and Uncle Sam and the Freedom Fighters overthrow the ghost of Joseph Stalin.
Zod fires an apocalyptic blast of Heat-Vision, and the Roman Empire never fell.
I cut through it with a hurricane of Arctic breath, and Jimmy Olsen wins the Nobel Peace Prize.
With every blow, with every miss, the two of us send echoes and reverberations through time and space and possibility. Universes and histories emerge like bubbles in a boiling pot, then dissipate as they reach the surface.
One moment, my ship lands on the outskirts of Smallville, Kansas. Then another one lands in the heart of the Soviet Union during the height of the Cold War. Another lands just outside of Gotham City, and yet another lands on Apokolips.
Lois and I have been married for years. Lana and I have just gotten a divorce. Diana and I are talking about having children.
Lex Luthor is living underground in exile, having fooled the world into thinking he died heroically. He is being incinerated by my own Heat-vision, murderous retribution for the deaths of my friends in the Justice League. He is gunned down by the police after finally killing me, still clutching one last sliver of Kryptonite in his hands.
Batman and I are duking it out in the ruins of Gotham, the older version of Bruce aided by Ollie, a young girl dressed as Robin, and a host of anti-Superman weapons. It's not going well for me at all. There's another ripple in the universe, and I snap his neck without thinking twice.
None of these are really happening. All of them absolutely are. The longer this fight goes, the closer we come to collapsing reality on itself.
"Zod....stop," I say through gritted teeth as I grapple with him.
"Look at what's happening around us. We're going to bring the Source Wall down! We have to stop or--"
"Or what?" Zod sneers.
"Or we'll pollute the flow of history? Warp the structure of space? Destroy the universe?"
He breaks up the grapple with a headbutt, sending me reeling.
"After all the time I was imprisoned in the Phantom Zone by your father....after being sent to my grave by you....after everything I've been through, Kal-El...do you really think I care what happens to the universe?"
He slams me into the fracturing Wall again and again, shards of reality coming loose.
"All that matters, all that has ever mattered, is destroying you, you weak, snivelling boy. If your end means the end of everything else, then so be it. In fact, I wouldn't have it any other way."
He shoves my face into the rift created by the cracks, shoving me into the unknown chaos beyond. His grin sours, and he takes on a grim tone.
"I've been waiting for this for a long time, Son of Jor-El."
He pushes me into the rift, but as he does, I grab hold of his arm.
"I don't know where this is going, Zod," I say as I pull him in,
"but you're coming with me."
We tumble into the rift....
...and the rules of reality itself shatter around us.