d+ “Gunn’s era is over — Henry Cavill officially returns as Superman, and this time he’s not here to save anyone.” A leaked ultra-confidential screenplay reveals, for the first time ever, a Superman who no longer represents hope, stepping into a brutal, no-mercy clash against Black Adam where neither side accepts being “the good guy.” And the most jaw-dropping twist: the ending that Warner Bros once locked away and banned internally has resurfaced—delivered in a way no one ever imagined—leaving millions of fans frozen in disbelief over a single, horrifying final scene.
Gunn’s era is over. Henry Cavill officially returns as Superman, and this time he’s not here to save anyone.
A leaked ultra-confidential screenplay reveals, for the first time ever, a Superman who no longer represents hope, stepping into a brutal, no-mercy clash against Black Adam where neither side accepts being “the good guy.” And the most jaw-dropping twist: the ending that Warner Bros once locked away and banned internally has resurfaced, delivered in a way no one ever imagined, leaving millions of fans frozen in disbelief over a single, horrifying final scene.
Burbank, December 9, 2025, 04:11 a.m. A 187-page PDF titled “DJ-01_DRAFT_LOCKED_2023-1117.pdf” appeared on a private torrent visible only to 200 verified Hollywood insiders. Within ninety minutes it was mirrored on every dark-web forum from here to Moscow. By sunrise it had been read, screenshot, and dissected by three million people.

The file came from the abandoned “Dark Justice” server, the black-listed internally at Warner Bros after the 2022 regime change.
Page 1 carried the old regime’s watermark: PROPERTY OF WALTER HAMADA PRODUCTIONS – DO NOT DISTRIBUTE And on page 187, in bold red letters never meant for daylight: POST-CREDIT SEQUENCE – VAULTED BY STUDIO ORDER 12/14/2022
The movie itself is simple on the surface: Black Adam vs. Superman. No Justice League cameos. No Justice Society. Just two gods deciding who gets to rule Earth.
The final battle takes place above a burning Kahndaq. Black Adam, bloodied, costume in tatters, lightning dying in his fists. Superman untouched, cape immaculate, eyes glowing a cold, steady crimson.
Adam’s last line, delivered through broken teeth: “You were supposed to be the best of them.”
Cavill’s Superman smiles, the same smile the world once loved, and answers:
“I am.”
Then he snaps Black Adam’s neck with one hand. No hesitation. No sorrow. The crack echoes like a gunshot heard around the planet.
Credits roll over absolute silence.
And then the post-credit scene begins.
The camera glides through the ruins of the Fortress of Solitude, now rebuilt into something colder, crystalline black, lit by green Kryptonian glyphs. Hundreds of human bodies float in stasis pods, generals, presidents, heroes, all labelled “Specimens.”
Cavill stands on a balcony overlooking Earth from orbit. Behind him, a holographic map burns with the House of El sigil, now inverted, red on black.
A kneeling figure in shredded JSA armour (Hawkman, barely alive) whispers:
“What… what are you doing?”
Superman never turns around.
“Phase One was hope. Phase Two was inspiration. Phase Three is dominion.”

He finally faces the camera. The S-shield is no longer a symbol. It is a brand.
“Tell the survivors,” he says, voice perfectly calm, “there is no Justice League anymore. There is only the Regime.”
Cut to black.
Then the contract page appears, exactly as it was buried in the Dark Justice legal files:
“EARTH UNDER KRYPTONIAN DOMINION Phase 01 – Elimination of rival metahuman powers: APPROVED Phase 02 – Global surrender protocol: APPROVED Phase 03 – Breeding program initiation: PENDING Phase 04 – Galactic announcement: PENDING Signed: Kal-El of Krypton, Supreme Chancellor Countersigned: W. Hamada, President DC Films (2023)”
The internet stopped breathing.
James Gunn posted a 14-second video of himself staring into camera, saying nothing, then walking off-screen. David Zaslav’s office issued a statement at 9:02 a.m.: “The attached document is fraudulent and does not reflect any current or past Warner Bros. project.” The statement was deleted forty-seven minutes later.
Henry Cavill broke three years of silence with a single Instagram post at noon: A black square. Caption: “The age of truth is over. The age of steel begins.”
No emoji. No explanation.
By evening, the leaked script had been downloaded 28 million times. Merchandise sites crashed under orders for inverted-S shields. #RegimeSuperman trended higher than any Marvel or DC hashtag in history.
Multiple sources inside the old Hamada regime confirm the screenplay was real, shot in secret in 2023 with Cavill and Johnson under total lockdown, intended as the launch of a four-film “Injustice”-style arc before the reboot axe fell.
Every frame of the neck-snap and the post-credit scene was finished, graded, and scored by Hans Zimmer, then buried in a vault with orders never to speak of it again.

Until last night.
Netflix, Amazon, and Apple executives were reportedly already on phones before breakfast, asking the same question: “How much to buy the whole thing, negatives, contracts, and all?”
Because the fans have spoken with one voice:
They don’t want hope anymore. They want the version Warner Bros was too afraid to release.
They want the Superman who wins.
And somewhere, in a private screening room no one can locate, Henry Cavill is said to be watching the leak on repeat, smiling the same smile he wore when he broke a god’s neck on camera.
The House of El is rising. And this time, no one is coming to stop it.
Welcome to Phase One.

