Arthur's eyes opened.
It happened without warning, without any of the gradual, drowsy transition a mortal might have shown, one moment he wa still , the next his violet eyes were simply open, aware, present in the room again after a long absence.
Raven noticed first. She had not looked up from her book in several minutes, but something in the air shifted the instant his awareness returned to the room, a subtle change she'd long since learned to recognize.
"Welcome back," she said, not bothering to lift her eyes from the page.
"Hey," Arthur said, rolling his shoulders once, working his muscles that hadn't needed it, not really, but the habit remained.
Raven finally set her bookmark and looked over at him properly, studying his face with quiet, familiar interest. "You were gone quite a while. Anything in particular happen in there?"
"I organized a small event," Arthur said, a faint, satisfied smile touching his mouth. "To select the leader of my army."
Raven's brow arched. "So you organized fights. Between your Marshal-grade soldiers." She let out a low, amused breath, shaking her head slightly. "That would have been a sight to see. I imagine if Batman had witnessed it, he'd be thoroughly horrified of them, and of your realm both."
"I imagine he would," Arthur said, something knowing in his tone. "I also know exactly what you're trying to say, Raven."
"It's no secret, really," she said, setting the book aside entirely now, giving him her full attention. "He's wary of your growing power. I'd wager most of them are, at this point especially now that you're the sole concept of Death across the entire multiverse, since Didi stepped back from the role."
"And you?" Arthur asked, watching her closely. "Are you wary of me as well?"
Raven rose from her seat without answering immediately, crossing the room and slid both arms behind his neck, drawing herself close enough that her voice, when it came, was barely more than a low, teasing whisper against his ear.
"Should I be?"
"Maybe," Arthur admitted, his own voice quieter now.
Whatever might have followed was interrupted by a sudden, bright voice from the doorway.
"Arthur!"
Kara stood there, arms crossed. Raven, entirely unbothered, simply stepped back with the easy patience of someone who had clearly anticipated exactly this interruption.
Arthur's smile turned distinctly amused. "Kara. That was a lovely kiss you gave me, by the way. I very much enjoyed it."
Kara's face went red in an instant, all pretense of composure abandoning her at once. "So you were really hearing and feeling everything, weren't you."
"Of course," Arthur said. "I was here the entire time, after all."
Kara huffed, though the heat in her cheeks didn't fade, and she crossed the rest of the distance to him. "Can you stay home this time? Please? I can't exactly go flying around while I'm this close to.." She stopped herself, one hand drifting instinctively to rest over her stomach.
"I know," Arthur said gently, reaching out to take her hand in his. "I won't leave. You don't have to worry. Naturally, I intend to be here the moment our daughter steps into this world."
Kara's eyes brightened at once, and she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around him properly this time, her earlier frustration melting away entirely.
"Though," Arthur added after a moment, something more thoughtful entering his voice, "I should mention... I am here, and yet, in a sense, I am not here at the same time."
Raven's eyes narrowed immediately, suspicion flickering across her features. "We're not talking to one of your clones right now, are we? Because at this point I genuinely can't tell anymore."
Arthur laughed, low and genuine. "No, this is the real me." His expression shifted. "However.. I just sensed that a certain someone has finally decided to leave his stronghold."
Raven's eyes widened, understanding instantly. "You can't possibly mean.."
"Darkseid," Arthur confirmed. "He's left Apokolips, exactly as I expected he eventually would. I imagine he's finally decided to take matters into his own hands personally." His jaw set, thoughtful. "He's certainly aware, by now, that I'm considerably stronger than I once was. What he likely doesn't yet know is that I've become the concept of Death itself."
Kara pulled back slightly. "You just said you'd stay here. Now you want to go fight Darkseid? He's still dangerous, Arthur, concept of death or not."
Arthur's smile remained calm, unbothered, his eyes kindling with a faint violet glow as he spoke.
"I won't fight him myself," he said. "I'll send a clone instead. What's coming isn't truly Darkseid, merely an avatar of a far greater being. The true Darkseid exists elsewhere, beyond what walks Apokolips's halls. Why would I bother fighting an avatar personally, when it's the real one I ultimately intend to kill?" His tone remained perfectly level. "A clone will suffice for this. I'll send a handful of my Marshals along with it, as a message to whatever remains listening on the other end. Once the avatar falls, Apokolips will be mine for the taking.. though I think, in the end, I'll simply destroy the world instead."
Raven crossed her arms, skeptical. "That sounds a little too easy."
"Trust me," Arthur said, "this is the only way I can fight this particular battle without worry weighing on me the entire time. Darkseid knows precisely how much I care about this planet, about the people on it. If I went myself, in full, undivided attention, distraction would follow and distraction is exactly the kind of opening a being like him would exploit. This way, nothing here is ever truly at risk."
At that moment, George appeared in the doorway, his posture as composed and unhurried as ever despite the gravity of what he'd clearly just overheard.
"Forgive the intrusion, Master Arthur," he said, inclining his head politely. "I couldn't help but overhear a portion of that. Since it seems you won't be leaving after all, might I prepare something for you? Tea, perhaps, or an early supper?"
"That won't be necessary, George," Arthur said, warmth softening the refusal. "Though I appreciate the thought, as always."
He turned back to Raven and Kara. "I'll be taking the two of you with me to the World Tree," he said. "There's something I need to attend to there.. for both of you. And for our daughter."
That caught Kara's full attention instantly, her earlier worry turned into curiosity, though she held the question behind her eyes for the moment, waiting to see what he meant to say next.
.
.
.
WARWORLD -
The void around Warworld had already turned to slaughter by the time Darkseid arrived at its surface.
He had not come alone, though "alone" barely described the scale of what he'd thrown ahead of himself an entire fleet of Apokoliptian warships, hulls black as old iron, disgorging wave after wave of Parademons and Paradragons into Warworld's orbit, a sacrifice offered up not out of necessity but out of sheer, contemptuous economy. Warworld's ancient defense grid tore through them by the thousand, turrets and automated cannons lighting the black sky with lances of crimson fire, and still they came, wave after expendable wave, simply to occupy the world's attention long enough for its true master to arrive unchallenged.
Mongul met him on the surface itself, standing amid the wreckage of his own outer defenses, he was arrogant, and carried that confidence of a being who had never once lost a fight he'd chosen to have.
"So," Mongul said, planting his feet, "you finally dared to come face me yourself." A low, mocking laugh rumbled out of him. "Did that shadow-cursed human push you this far? I'll admit, I didn't expect Darkseid, Lord of Apokolips, to come crawling to my doorstep because of him." His eyes gleamed with something between contempt and genuine curiosity. "Though I suppose that's more sense than you usually show. I never dared strike at Earth myself.. I'm not nearly as stupid as you clearly are, provoking a being like that."
Darkseid did not answer.
He simply attacked.
There was no preamble, no further exchange of words, no acknowledgment that Mongul's taunt had landed at all, only the immediate, overwhelming disparity of power made suddenly, brutally clear. Mongul threw the first physical blow, a punch that could have leveled a city block, and Darkseid caught it without so much as shifting his stance, his grip closing around the fist with force to audibly crack bone.
Mongul's confidence faltered for the first time.
What followed was less a battle than an execution drawn out for the sake of spectacle. Darkseid's fists fell like collapsing mountains, each blow driving Mongul further into the ruined stone of his own world, cratering the surface of Warworld itself beneath the sheer, accumulating violence. Mongul fought back with everything he had strength honed across a thousand conquests, augmented by the very world he stood upon and none of it mattered. Every strike he landed skated off Darkseid unyielding body as though it were nothing more than an insect's protest.
"You.." Mongul managed, spitting blood, dragging himself upright amid the wreckage of his own throne world, "you think this changes anything? This world answers to me!"
Darkseid's eyes ignited crimson.
"This world," Darkseid said, "was never yours to claim. You merely borrowed it, for as long as it amused me to let you."
The Omega Beams tore free.
They did not simply strike Mongul, they sought him, twin lances of crackling crimson-black energy that curved through the ruined air with lethal, inescapable precision, finding him even as he attempted, uselessly, to throw himself clear. The beams met his chest and did not stop, tearing through flesh and bone and whatever remained of his ambition in a single, merciless instant, and Mongul's body came apart in a burst of consuming energy, ash and light scattering across the cratered surface of the world he'd claimed as his own.
Silence settled over Warworld.
Darkseid stood amid the wreckage of his latest conquest, Parademons still screaming through the smoke-choked sky above, the last echoes of Warworld's automated defenses sputtering out one by one as their master's death registered through whatever systems still governed them. He allowed himself, for the briefest moment, the quiet satisfaction of a task completed.
Then a voice spoke from behind him.
"I have to say," it said calmly, "I expected you to look a great deal more intimidating in person. But all I'm seeing is a cornered cosmic conqueror, scrambling to claim a weapon big enough to match someone he already knows he can't beat."
Darkseid turned.
Standing there, amid the ruin of Warworld, entirely unbothered by the carnage still settling around him, was Arthur Blackwynd, the Shadow Monarch.
/-\
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