God Of The Omniverse-Chapter 350: Crisis In Gotham (Part 5)

Several hours had now passed since Gotham descended into chaos.

Now, the streets were quiet again—but not because peace had truly returned.

The joint efforts of the Justice League and military forces had seen many of the escaped convicts recaptured. The once-roaming criminals were either locked up again or lying dead in the streets.

Order had been restored, but at what cost?

Hospitals were overflowing. Emergency rooms packed with the injured, some in critical condition, others barely clinging to life. Families were mourning lost loved ones. Businesses had been looted, homes ransacked, entire neighborhoods left in financial ruin.

For Gotham, this was a day that wouldn't be forgotten.

And for those lucky enough to still be in their homes, unharmed, there was nothing to do but watch.

All across the city, televisions flickered with live broadcasts, reports detailing what little was known about the attack.

Local and international news were covering the incident—but the contrast was striking.

International networks, in particular, were fixated on one angle.

———

Inside the SUV

Arias sat in the backseat of a black SUV, his gaze fixed on the mounted screen in front of him.

Tala was on his right, Cheshire on his left.

Outside the tinted windows, Gotham passed by in a quiet haze, streetlights flickering over somber, empty roads. The security detail's convoy moved in formation, their presence ensuring no one dared to interfere.

The screen displayed a live broadcast from a European news network.

The news anchor, an older man with sharp features and a well-tailored suit, spoke in a serious tone, his co-host—a woman with striking blonde hair—nodding along with concern.

"Tonight, Gotham has suffered its worst security breach in years," the anchor began, "but the real question remains: is this all because of one man?"

A graphic flashed on the screen.

A chart labeled Civilian Deaths in Gotham Since Arias Markovic's Arrival.

It showed a sharp increase in violent incidents, correlating them directly to his presence.

At the bottom of the screen, small text read: (Data collected over the past month.)

The anchor continued. "Since Markovic settled in Gotham, crime-related civilian casualties have surged. Just hours ago, a group of terrorists openly linked his name to their motivations before executing Gotham police officers."

The co-host added, her voice full of concern, "And let's not forget the numerous accusations tied to him over the last 12 months. Some suspect he had a hand in the death of Lex Luthor, while others cite reports of war crimes linked to his operations in Eastern Europe."

A second graphic appeared, displaying a list of alleged crimes.

War Crimes in Unnamed Conflict Zones

Drug Syndicate Leaders Claiming Funding from Markovic's Corporation

Unconfirmed Links to Lex Luthor's Death

"With all this in mind," the anchor said grimly, "should the world truly allow someone like this to move freely?"

Arias let out a quiet scoff, his lips curling into a smirk as he shook his head.

Ridiculous.

It wasn't that he didn't expect the international community to oppose him—that was inevitable.

But this?

This level of blatant slander?

It was new.

Up until recently, despite being a global fugitive, media outlets had been careful. Governments despised him, but their networks kept their critiques within certain boundaries.

They criticized him much like they did world leaders—harshly, but without outright making accusations they couldn't back.

Yet now?

They weren't just criticizing him.

They were blatantly pinning every tragedy they could on him, from wars to organized crime.

Arias's gaze darkened slightly, though his expression remained amused.

Something had changed.

Someone was pulling strings.

Next to him, Tala perceived his sigh and head shake as irritation.

She saw an opportunity.

Leaning in closer, she allowed her chest to press subtly against his arm, the softness of her breasts apparent even through layers of fabric.

Her voice was low, sultry as she murmured, "Do not mind zhe words of zhe nobodies, Master."

She brushed against him slightly, her tone honeyed. "Zhey do not know vwhat zhey are blabbering about."

Cheshire, observing this without surprise, simply crossed one leg over the other and remained silent.

Arias, still watching the screen, let out a small, knowing smile.

"No," he said calmly, "this is a good thing."

Tala's brows lifted slightly, confused.

Cheshire, however, raised a brow, sensing something beneath his words.

Arias continued, "It's given me a better idea of who could be behind this."

Cheshire's curiosity sparked.

She turned slightly toward him, her body still relaxed, and offered, "Sounds like a problem that can be fixed with my... unique skill set."

Arias nodded slightly.

"Perhaps." His voice was thoughtful. "But that will depend on how this meeting goes."

The SUV came to a stop.

The towering Leviathan building loomed over them, its blackened glass reflecting the dim lights of the city.

Normally, protesters would be gathered outside, screaming for his arrest, his removal—something.

But tonight?

Nothing. freeweɓnøvel.com

For one, Gotham was still under lockdown.

Justice League members and military personnel were still sweeping the city, searching for any remaining escapees.

And two?

It was the early hours of the morning.

No one—not even his most obsessed haters—were out right now.

The security detail exited first, ensuring the area was secure before opening the doors for Arias and his entourage.

One by one, they stepped out.

Tala first, her expression calm but slightly dissatisfied as her eyes scanned their surroundings.

Cheshire followed next, stepping onto the pavement with an almost bored smirk.

Then, Arias.

He stepped out smoothly, adjusting his coat.

And as he did—

he looked up.

Something—or someone—was in the air.

The security team instinctively followed his gaze.

A single figure hovered above them.

Superman.

Cheshire's smirk deepened. "Well, well."

Tala, however, frowned.

And Arias?

He merely smiled.

Superman's focus was locked solely on Arias.

His expression—anger barely restrained.

Slowly, he descended, hovering downward with measured control.

The security detail hesitated, their collective confusion evident.

Superman showing up here, now, with that look in his eyes? That wasn't normal.

Some of the guards tensed, their instincts screaming at them to move, to assume defensive stances—but they hesitated.

After all, what were they supposed to do? Tell Superman to back off?

Instead, most of them simply looked toward their commanding officer—a seasoned man with a lined face, exhaustion in his posture but sharpness in his eyes.

The officer let out a quiet sigh, then stepped forward, approaching the point where Superman was coming down.

But Superman didn't fully land.

He stopped just a few feet above the ground, his cape billowing lightly in the cold Gotham air.

The commanding officer halted as well, keeping his distance.

His arms crossed over his chest as he spoke.

"What can I do for you, Superman?"

Superman's gaze never shifted.

He didn't even acknowledge the officer.

His eyes remained fixed on Arias.

"I want to ask him some questions."

The commanding officer's expression tightened.

He wasn't stupid. He could piece together exactly what this was about.

It wasn't just the execution at Gotham PD headquarters. That much had been public knowledge. This was about Blackgate.

Over the past few hours, word had begun to spread.

The military and justice league had discovered what remained of the prison riot.

A slaughter.

Not just the escaped inmates—but everyone.

The guards, the criminals, even the victims caught in the middle.

A massacre unlike anything Gotham had seen before.

And though no one had spoken it aloud, one name had lingered in every conversation.

Arias Markovic.

The officer had asked earlier how long Arias had been absent. He knew enough to suspect him, but...

No orders had been given to detain him.

That didn't sit right with the officer.

So, for Superman to be here now?

He didn't mind it. Not one bit.

Arias, on the other hand, was in no mood to indulge the Man of Steel.

His voice came smooth, unbothered. "A lot of people want to ask me questions." He tilted his head slightly, that faint, knowing smirk returning. "Alas, I'm a busy man, Superman. So how about you try again another time?"

Superman moved before the officer could even register it.

A blur of red and blue—then suddenly, he was there.

Just a foot away from Arias.

Cheshire reacted instantly.

Her posture shifted, her body tensing, but it was already too late to act.

Superman had stopped on his own.

Still, she was fast.

Tala was just as quick.

Magic pooled in her hand, a faint purple glow engulfing her fingers.

She was ready.

Then—

"Stand down."

Arias ordered, calmly but firm.

"I'm sure Superman isn't here to start a fight." His tone didn't change, but something in the air did.

A subtle shift.

A weight pressing down.

The gravity around them grew denser.

Not by much—just enough for everyone to feel it.

A warning.

Superman held his ground, but inwardly, his thoughts moved fast.

How far did Arias's abilities really go?

He was strong, that much was obvious.

And no matter how angry Superman was, testing those limits now—here, in the middle of Gotham—was a bad idea.

Reluctantly, he exhaled through his nose and said,

"This isn't over."

He turned, then—

**FWOOOSH**

—took off into the sky, disappearing into the darkened clouds above.

Arias watched him go, his smirk never fading.

He gave a slow nod to himself.

"You're right," he murmured,"It's only just begun."