Gotham City is about a two-hour drive from Metropolis. I make the trip in a matter of moments. One of the benefits of being able to fly at superhuman speeds.

I’ve been all over the universe and beyond. I’ve seen all sorts of depraved locales. And still, Gotham always makes me a little uneasy. It’s not because I’m afraid. It’s because it wasn’t some evil warlord who caused Gotham to become a city full of crime and corruption—it was the men and women who live there.

The city has always been a stark contrast to Metropolis. I’ve always found it a bit interesting that the two cities exist so close to each other, separated only by a harbor. Like night and day.

I’ve always admired Bruce for the work he does here. Despite Gotham’s troubles, it used to be much, much worse. And Bruce, almost single-handedly, turned the tide. He had help, to be sure, but it was his determination and his obsession with justice that led the charge.

Sometimes, I ask myself, if I had come to Gotham instead of Metropolis, would I have made a difference? Could I have made the same progress or maybe more? And each time I think about this, I come to the same answer.

No.

Despite all my powers, Gotham is a city that needs a different kind of hero. One who can operate in the shadows, who can bend the rules just a little. A Superman could only affect change in Gotham by becoming a dictator. To really bring about any sort of real change, it takes more than what I’m able to do. It means operating from behind the scenes, employing strategic, in-depth plans.

Even at one in the afternoon, Gotham is still dark. I dove between the gothic architecture, and moving at superspeed, I quickly went through a change. The familiar red, blue and yellow costume is covered by a blue suit. To complete the transformation I slipped on a pair of glasses.

Wayne Enterprises. Bruce said Clark Kent would be interested in the presentation today, but he wouldn’t go into any further details beyond that. That’s the thing about Bruce, he always likes his surprises.

“Excuse me,” I say, approaching a security guard. “I’m… ah…” I fish through the pocket of my jacket to find my press pass, “…Clark Kent, with the Daily Planet. I’m here for the demonstration?”

The guard looks at my pass and nods. “Take the elevator to the second floor, Mr. Kent. You should really try to get here faster, too. They’ve already started.”

“Right, sorry about that,” I say. As I entered the elevator, I allow myself a slight smile. As fast as I am, it can still be difficult to arrive on time. Especially when I get sidetracked by fighting a giant Tickle-Me-Elmo on the rampage. One of the Toyman’s tricks.

Once the elevator arrives, I walk through the double doors and several sets of eyes instantly fixed on me. “Umm hi… I guess I’m late?”

The people in the room regard me carefully for a moment, before looking away. I notice a large curtain at the other end of the room. Out of curiosity, I lower my glasses and decide to spoil the surprise with my x-ray vision. I only get through the curtain and my vision won’t go any further.

“Lead…” I mutter under my breath and chuckled. “Bruce, your paranoia never ceases to amaze.”

I push my glasses back over my eyes. There were many familiar faces in the room. Some of them captains of industry, like Bruce. Others were reporters like myself.

“Good afternoon!”

The voice came through the speakers of the room. All eyes, my own included, looked to the source. Bruce Wayne himself, walking towards us and dressed in a black suit. Lucius Fox, the man who essentially runs Wayne Enterprises, stood by his side.

“I’m so glad you could all come today, because we’ve got quite a show for you,” he says. It’s funny just how different Bruce’s public persona is from his true face. Lois once told me I missed my calling, that with how great my bumbling Clark Kent persona was, I should have been an actor. I laughed and told her I had nothing on the Batman.

Bruce Wayne walked towards the curtain. “What I’m about to show you all today possess the ability to change the world as we know it. As time goes on, the energy crisis worsens and Wayne Enterprises is committed to finding a suitable solution. A source of cheap, reusable energy. And I’m proud to announce a brand-new research initiative on a promising new source…”

He pulled the rope and the curtains flew open. And once I saw what they hid, I understood exactly why Bruce chose to line it with lead. Not because he didn’t want me getting a sneak peak. No, it’s because of the danger of what was held inside. There were several large stones contained inside of varying colors. Although the colors were different, I could recognize it anywhere.

Kryptonite.

Bruce, just what are you doing?

	The Man of Steel and The Dark Knight Detective... KRYPTONITE
World's Finest #1 - January, Year Five	by Stephen Crosby and Dino Pollard

“Mr. Wayne?”

The silent moment I allowed myself to take in the view from the large bay windows which adorned my office was interrupted by the voice of my secretary. I turned to her, flashing the hundred-watt smile of a billionaire playboy, perfected after years of practice, and await her response.

“They’re ready for you now.”

“Perfect, I’ll be right out.” My tone is higher and more bubbly than normal, also developed over the years. Bruce Wayne is nothing more than a mask, and after all this time, he has become as easy for me to don and shed as the Armani suits in his wardrobe.

I granted myself one final view of the city. Gotham. My city. From my office in Wayne Tower, I sometimes feel like a king. Instead, I am anything but. Merely its guardian.

I make the walk from my office to the elevator and descended to the floor where the adoring public awaited. I released no details of this demonstration prior, simply discussed the implications for solving the energy crisis. Standing outside the door, looking at his watch, was Lucius Fox. His eyes turn to me with an annoyance in them.

“Late as usual, Bruce,” he says.

“I’m nothing if not consistent, Lucius,” I reply. He hands me a small microphone which I clip to my lapel pin. I open the doors and enter with Lucius by my side, again putting that perfect smile to use. The same smile that, just a week earlier, was gushing blood after a fight with Killer Croc.

As soon as I confront the mass of people, I go into the speech. I barely even pay attention to the words that come out of my mouth. This is nothing more than a play written, directed, and acted solely by myself. Once I’m done with the speech, I pull the rope and the curtains fly, revealing the multicolored kryptonite hidden behind the lead shielding. All for Clark’s benefit, although they don’t know this.

What they also don’t know is how fictitious the speech about energy research is. While it’s true that Wayne Enterprises is looking to study kryptonite as a potential energy source, it’s also mainly a cover story. The truth of the matter? This is all a smokescreen, an effect to discover how to alter the effects of kryptonite on Kryptonian physiology. The ultimate goal to render it harmless.

“As many of you are aware, the radiation generated by kryptonite is long-lasting and while it does have adverse effects on humans, these effects aren’t as potent as other radioactive materials.” I’m in actor mode again, running through my lines, putting on a performance. “Unfortunately, our attempts to harness this near-limitless energy has proven difficult. All we know for sure is that it’s a very effective plant-killer.”

The smile again. The crowd chuckles. This is the part of my job I hate.

“But rest assured that our scientists are working ‘round the clock to—“

I’m interrupted by the sound of shattering glass. All eyes look to the skylight of the conference room where a large creature made of metal falls and lands. Easily six or seven feet tall, looking like something out of a science fiction movie. A robot. I recognize him immediately…

Metallo…

John Corben was once a simple con man until the fates stepped in. After a near-fatal car accident, a scientist named Vale transplanted Corben’s brain into a robot body powered by kryptonite. He’s crossed paths with me many times, although he’s recently been upgraded. Now he can transform his robotic body into anything he wants.

As the crowd moves to evacuate, I almost hesitate to duck away and make my change to Superman. This is the Batman’s city, and I don’t like to encroach on his turf. Bruce can be quite territorial. And if this were the Joker or Two-Face, I might stand by so Bruce could handle it himself.

But this is Metallo, a small-minded man with too much power. So I run out with the rest of the crowd, and in the commotion I move into super speed. I’m a blur, removing my glasses and street clothes and placing them within the pouch in my cape. When it’s someone like Metallo, that means this is a job for Superman!

He flies in through the skylight, barreling into Metallo at full-speed. The force causes a small tremor and many of the remaining guests lose their footing. There’s only one reason Metallo would be in Gotham, at Wayne Enterprises on this day and that’s for the kryptonite. How he knew about it remains a mystery, and one I plan to solve.

But now I have more important matters to deal with. I lose Lucius and security in the commotion and get back to my office. Five hidden switches, pressed in a specific sequence, open a secret door. Inside is a small workshop I set up in the office, where I keep enough tools for just such an emergency. The Armani is replaced with dark gray and black Nomex, a gold utility belt, and a black cape and cowl with pointed ears.

There’s something else in this room I’ll need. The particle accelerator that was to be used in the demonstration is much larger, but this is a smaller version. And I have a hunch it will be very useful.

My hunches are rarely wrong.

“Get off!” says Metallo, and throws a punch that knocks me off him. Silvery boils bubble on his back, growing larger until they separate and fly off. Drones. He’s producing drones.

I stare at one of them and my blue eyes turn bright red. My heat vision does the rest, melting it to slag. Another flanks around, dodging the heat blasts and opening with energy blasts of its own. The bolts are strong, enough to cause me some hesitation. Freeze breath stops it cold in its tracks.

The third catches me by surprise, driving into my back. I reach around and grab it, tearing it to shreds with my hands. The exposed wires spark, but the drone pieces are forming into smaller drones. These smaller drones are faster, more nimble. It’s harder and harder to hit them with either heat vision or freeze breath. While I’m struggling with them, Metallo gets the drop on me, wrapping his metallic arms around my waist and squeezing.

“Gotcha!” he says.

I try to resist, but its made more difficult with the drones firing their energy blasts at me. I take a deep breath and release the air in my lungs, causing massive winds that blow the drones from the battlefield.

“Not so fast!” says Metallo. My hearing picks up the sound of gears moving inside his body and I know what that means. A compartment on his chest slides open, revealing the kryptonite that powers him. The green glow starts to drain my powers and fatigue quickly sets in. I keep trying to struggle, but I get weaker and weaker by the second…

A flash grenade causes Metallo to loosen his grip on Superman and turn his attention towards me. My cape is draped over my body, hiding the accelerator. It’s about the size of a rifle and twice as heavy. As soon as I see a good shot, I bring it up, opening my cape in the process and fire. The accelerator strikes the kryptonite on the first shot.

Metallo looks at it in surprise, especially as the color alters, turning it from green to red. Superman’s strength seems to return quickly enough, but something even more surprising happens. I watch his face contort in pain, his cranium beginning to grow in size.

Superman’s skin has taken on a reddish hue and his eyes glow with bright crimson. Metallo moves to the offense, his arms shifting into whatever weapons he can think of—guns, blades, cannons. But with each one, Superman seems to be aware of it before it happens, instantly developing a counter-attack. That’s when a halo of crimson energy surrounds his massive head and fires off in jagged bursts.

One strikes Metallo, burning a hole through his kryptonite heart. I dodge and weave around any that come in my direction. But one blast strikes the containment unit and the force causes the colored kryptonite to scatter around the room.

“NO!” I shout. I haven’t had the chance to test the effects of the different forms of kryptonite, so I have no idea which ones will affect Clark, or for that matter, how they’ll affect him. But before I can move to collect any of the pieces, more mental bolts fly. Instead of destroying the kryptonite, they… vanish?

With Metallo defeated, we deposited him at Stryker’s Island before returning to the Batcave. During the course of several tests, my increased brain mass receded, returning my brain—and my head—to its normal size.

“The particle accelerator alters the properties of kryptonite, thus altering the effects it has on me, doesn’t it?” I ask.

Bruce, his cowl down, looks somewhat impressed. “How did you know that?”

“The red kryptonite did more than increase my head size, it also increased my intelligence,” I tell him. “Bruce, what’s this all about?”

“I assume your intelligence also told you this wasn’t just for discovering an alternate energy source,” he begins.

“So what?” I ask. “Are you trying to find more effective ways to kill Kryptonians? In case of another Zod? Or in case I go bad?”

“It’s not like that at all, Clark,” he says. “My main goal was to find a way to render the effects of kryptonite useless on you.”

I sigh. “Bruce… I appreciate the thought. I really do. But this… you’re running into dangerous territory. Especially announcing it as a possible alternative energy source? You’re just begging to be hit by criminals. Metallo will just be the first.”

“Under the cover of an alternative energy source, I can obtain extra grants for research, and extra scientists.”

“Did you ever stop to think that it’s probably a good thing I have at least one weakness?”

I know Bruce and I know he’s a little relieved to hear me say that. He knows just as well as I do what could go wrong if my mind were to be taken over, or if I became somehow corrupted. Like Hal.

“And I assume you planned for that contingency as well, didn’t you?”

This time, his stone face cracks a little. That knowing smirk of his. Of course he has a contingency plan. He’s the Batman. He’s always got something up his sleeve. To stay on top in a world where men can move planets with their bare hands or run faster than the speed of light, a normal human needs to be willing to cheat a little.

“That’s not important right now,” he says. “What is important is what happened to the kryptonite? Was it vaporized by your blasts?”

“No, I… I think I may have teleported it.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Teleported where?”

I shake my head. “I was so disoriented at the time, I barely knew what I was doing. I just wanted the kryptonite gone and… it was gone.”

“Hhh.” He’s not pleased. I don’t blame him, neither am I. “We have to find it,” he says. “Even if we have to comb every square inch of this planet. There’s no telling what that kryptonite could do in the wrong hands, especially since I haven’t had the chance to properly test all of it.”

“All of it?” I ask. “That’s implying you did test some.”

He nods. “I was only able to complete a conclusive test using your DNA on one of the samples—the gold kryptonite.”

“And?”

“If exposed to it, you will revert to a human,” he says. “Permanently.”

“Then it looks like we have to find this stuff before things get out of hand.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE

How can one write a series with two of the most iconic characters in comic book fiction? More importantly, how can one make it a good series? Because trust me, a lot of those original World's Finest tales were not very good at all. I recall some tale about Superman and Batman traveling back in time to visit an ancestor of Bruce Wayne, and to explain their outlandish costumes claim their Shakespearean actors. "'S' for Shakespeare," Superman even said, pointing to the shield on his chest.

Well, hopefully Dino and I have solved the dilemma. First, we accepted that one writer can't possibly do a good series, so both of us will be writing this. For everybody who thought from the promo that Derrick was writing this, I apologize. And I promise Dino got better, as this issue proves.

Our second solution to writing a good Superman/Batman team-up series was to give them a reason to team up regularly. That reason was in the story you've just read: Kryptonite. And not just any kryptonite, ladies and gentlemen. All colors, made from good intentions but now soon to cause a mess of trouble. Look for some fine old silver-age goodness that will actually make some sense.

The world's finest are writing World's Finest. Get used to it, people.

-Stephen Crosby

This is an interesting little book to take on.

Back when I founded DC Omega about a year ago, Steve and I wanted to collaborate on SUPERMAN/BATMAN. At the time though, we were both committed to other projects and put it on the back-burner. Then DC Omega folded and nothing came of it. And one day I thought, "wait a minute... why don't we see if we can do it at JLU?"

I asked Steve about it and he was onboard. We checked with Derrick for permission to use Superman and he was more than gracious. Curt dug our ideas and here we are. Although during the course of scripting this issue over Steve's excellent plots, I felt the title SUPERMAN/BATMAN just wasn't good enough, so I thought WORLD'S FINEST had a better ring to it, and it seems to fit the feel of the Modern Age take on Silver Age ideas Steve and I are going for a lot better than SUPERMAN/BATMAN does.

This is a big project for me, and a fun one at that. Like many, Superman and Batman were my introduction into the world of superheroes. And also like many, I maintain a deep love and respect for both these characters. This is a project I never would have dreamed of writing two years ago. But thanks to the support of my fellow writers, and after finding the courage to write a successful solo SUPERMAN run for twenty-five issues over at DC Omega, I figure now I'm up to the challenge.

Hopefully I can meet it.

-Dino Pollard