Marvel: Raising — Chapter 129 - The Homelander of the Anti-Life Equation
Darkseid was strong. Incredibly strong.
An existence that could match, even suppress, Superman. The most powerful New God in the DC universe.
And for a long time, he had been the source of nearly limitless pressure for John: the boy who, in dreams of the farm, had stolen glimpses of the future, gleaned guidance, and clawed his way toward growth.
But today.
After a protracted, transcendent slaughter. A cosmic war that had consumed countless planets and star systems.
With the combined power of Ghost Wanda, Sinister Strange bearing Barbatos, and The Homelander.
They finally struck Darkseid down.
Unlike Superman, who would have eventually died on his own if left alone, Darkseid was different. Aside from being unable to fly, his body had reached the absolute peak of the single-universe tier, stable and sustained, fully capable of trading blows with a fully unleashed Superman.
In Superman's own words: "I've always felt like I live in a world made of cardboard, always taking care not to break something, not to hurt someone — never allowing myself to lose control, not even for a moment, or someone would die. But you can take it, right, big guy? For once, I finally have a chance to cut loose. Let me show you just how strong I really am!"
Now Superman was dead.
John, who carried Bizarro-level strength and was essentially a lesser Superman, had absorbed a single blow from Darkseid. That one blow had nearly shattered and obliterated him on a physical level, completely.
Ghost Wanda, deeply corroded by the Darkhold and Chaos Magic, nearly a lesser Chthon herself, took a direct hit from one of Darkseid's Omega Beams.
It was not simply a high-temperature ray or a destructive blast. It was a rule-based attack, carrying the full weight of the Omega Force.
One glance.
That was all it took.
Ghost Wanda was hurled into an endless traversal of parallel worlds, worlds like nightmares, each one worse than the last. Like falling into Avici Hell, with no escape for all eternity. Not even death could stop this kind of execution. And throughout the traversal, the victim would continuously accumulate Omega energy, until the threshold was reached and an entire world was destroyed.
The process had been interrupted by Darkseid's death, terminated like a program cut short.
But right now.
Ghost Wanda's mind had still broken.
"Hehe, superhero, heh..."
"I, Wanda, am just an innocent mother..."
She muttered to herself, tilting her head, giggling at nothing.
She was going mad.
Meanwhile, Sinister Strange, who already carried the dark magic and forbidden curses of countless malevolent gods, who bore the weight of Barbatos on top of that, had once again, once again, once again pushed too far and crashed out.
He was the main damage dealer. The one who had actually taken Darkseid down.
But now he sagged in unprecedented exhaustion, drained to the marrow, his magical reserves scraped hollow.
"And you, my friends — stay sharp! Well done! Don't lose face!"
"A bright future is right before us!"
"The next step is to bring down the Source Wall, blow open the gateway to the super-multiverse, once we get to Marvel, it's smooth sailing!"
"Once we're living the lives we want, it's smooth sailing!"
"Once... it's smooth sailing!"
John was genuinely terrified that these two uninvited wrecks were going to die on him. He painted grand promises, his voice carrying the full brightness of a man who absolutely needed them both alive.
"Staying here, or going back to your original worlds, there's nothing wrong with that. But only by reaching that universe can you have a truly broader world!"
"Don't you want to grow?"
Ghost Wanda, deep in her psychotic haze, felt something flicker. Her spirits lifted. She repeated it like a chant: "I want to grow so badly! Grow, grow, grow..."
"I want to grow too!" Sinister Strange braced one hand against the wall and the other against his lower back, his dark circles carved deeper than ever.
At this point, he couldn't afford to give up.
"And you, my friends — you are the real heroes!"
Only then did John flash his signature smile. Genuinely amused.
He turned.
He walked toward the Anti-Life Equation.
It was a formula. It was also a divine artifact. The Anti-Life Equation had created the antimatter universe. It was the most powerful weapon in existence, capable of forcibly controlling others, bending their thoughts, making them submit entirely to its wielder.
It had once belonged to Darkseid.
But now.
Along with the Mother Boxes, the technology of Apokolips, and the endless legions of Parademons, it all belonged to The Homelander.
"From this moment on, I am the new god!"
"All is one. All belongs to The Homelander. This mighty body is my temple. When I command your surrender, three billion voices follow. When I swing my fist and crush your resistance, three billion hands follow. When I stare into your eyes and shatter your dreams and break your hearts, six billion eyes follow!"
"...I will kill your souls. Make you fear. Make you grovel and beg. Make you die. Die. Die for The Homelander!"
Carrying the Mother Boxes. Carrying the fragment of the Anti-Life Equation retrieved from the blue planet.
John sat upon the throne of Apokolips.
He held the Anti-Life Equation. Merged with it. Immense power surged through him in a continuous, swelling tide.
For the blue planet of the DC universe, it was as though a gust of wind had blown through the cosmos and then simply stopped here.
The Flash. Supergirl. Cyborg. Aquaman. Controlled, without even realizing it.
This was nothing like mind control. There was no coercion, no force. It settled over them as naturally as breathing.
Having dominated DC's blue planet, John finally possessed something real: the footing to stand before Azu, to challenge him, to compete for their father's love.
But.
The closer he drew to his goal, the more his heart seized.
Even terror.
Yes.
He desperately craved Azu's life. He was insanely jealous of everything Azu had, that farm, that fatherly love, that embrace. It drove him mad.
But the laughable truth was that deep down, John understood. What was special wasn't him. It wasn't Azu either. It was Dad Guan.
Because of Dad Guan, Azu could shine with boundless radiance, like a true sun.
And John was merely the shadow that sun cast.
In the light Dad Guan radiated, somewhere in the dark corners overlooked by warmth and happiness, John had always been there, curled up pitifully, like a beggar with nothing.
He yearned. He wanted to reach out and touch Dad Guan. But he was afraid. Afraid of failure.
"...We still need more preparation."
He said it quietly.
He sat on Darkseid's throne, his cloak pulled tight around him, just like in the lab when he was a child, clutching the only small blanket he had ever owned.
...
"So Celestials really do operate on science after all?"
"They just have their own system of science."
"Their own formulas."
The Marvel world.
Azu's smile was bright and open. He laughed, raised his hand, and sent the Grandmaster flying, then turned and chased the Astronomer down, hammering him without pause.
The fight had become entirely one-sided.
The audience on Sakaar stood in stunned silence. The arena fanatics most of all, their frenzy gone numb and blank.
Planet-eating. Celestial-eating. A new Celestial emerging from the chaos.
This was a spectacle no arena had ever produced, could ever produce, a battle so far beyond imagination that their minds simply refused to process it. Fists and kicks that casually shattered planets. Beams of light and waves of energy crashing in every direction as though they cost nothing.
Cities crumbled. The terrain reshaped itself. The planet was riddled with wounds. The climate spun completely out of control.
A battle between gods.
Nothing less.
➤ Next: Azu and the Celestials