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AND
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Jason pulled himself out of the crater his body had carved into the street, chunks of asphalt crumbling off his shoulders as he rose to his feet. The red glow of the false Superman's heat vision still burned at the edges of his vision, but the pain was already fading....pushed down, locked away, converted into fuel for the fire building in his chest.
"I have FUCKING HAD IT WITH THESE FUCKING HUNTERS!"
His voice tore through the night, raw with fury, echoing off the shattered buildings and cracked pavement. The Last Sun hovered above him, his blood-red cape flapping in the wind, his burning eyes fixed on Jason with cold, predatory amusement.
Jason's hands came up.
Slash.
Not one. Not two. Dozens.
Cleaves erupted from his fingers, his palms, his wrists...every angle, every direction, a storm of invisible blades that filled the air between them. But these weren't ordinary slashes. Kryptonite energy coursed through each one, green light flickering along the edges of his attacks like venom dripping from fangs. He had imbued them with the one thing that could cut through Kryptonian flesh like butter, and he had done it without hesitation, without mercy, without a single thought beyond destruction.
The Last Sun moved.
Fast....impossibly fast, even for a Kryptonian. He twisted through the swarm of slashes like smoke through fingers, his body bending and turning at angles that defied physics. One blade grazed his shoulder, carving a thin line through his charred suit. He didn't flinch. Another caught his cape, tearing a strip of red fabric that fluttered to the ground. The rest found only empty air.
He flew.
Jason launched himself after him, his Ankh materializing beneath his feet in a flash of black and white magic. The translucent platform shot forward, carrying him through the sky in pursuit of the demonic Superman. Below them, Metropolis sprawled in all directions....a maze of steel and glass and sleeping innocents who had no idea what was happening above their heads.
"Keep running!" Jason snarled, releasing another barrage of slashes.
The Last Sun banked hard, veering left, then right, then dropping into a dive that took him between two skyscrapers. Jason followed, his Ankh tilting to match the trajectory, his hands never stopping. Slash after slash after slash....some aimed ahead to cut off escape, some aimed directly at the target, some simply scattered like buckshot to increase the odds of a hit.
The Last Sun's eyes glowed brighter.
Heat vision lanced from his gaze.....not aimed at Jason, but at the buildings. At the civilians. At the sleeping city below.
Twin beams of crimson energy streaked toward an office tower, toward apartment complexes, toward streets that would soon be filled with screaming, burning people if the beams connected.
Kara intercepted them.
She appeared out of nowhere, her body slamming into the path of the heat vision, her arms crossed in front of her face. The beams struck her palms and scattered, deflected harmlessly into the sky. She dropped to street level, already moving toward the next target, her face set in grim determination.
"I've got the people!" she shouted. "Just kill him!"
Jason didn't answer. His focus was absolute.
The chase continued....through canyons of glass, over bridges, past the Daily Planet globe that spun slowly in the night. The Last Sun was fast, but Jason was faster on the Ankh, his slashes herding the Kryptonian like wolves herding a wounded elk.
Kara worked below. She caught another heat vision blast aimed at a hospital. She yanked a falling chunk of debris out of the air before it could crush a bus. She moved like a blur, her own speed matching her cousin's, her own strength protecting the people who couldn't protect themselves.
The Last Sun tried to climb...to break atmosphere, to escape into the black where he would have the advantage. Jason cut him off with a wall of slashes that forced him back down.
Another attempt. Another failure.
And then
One of Jason's slashes found its mark.
The blade caught the Last Sun across the back, carving a deep gash from his shoulder blade to his opposite hip. Green light flickered in the wound, kryptonite energy poisoning the flesh around it, weakening him in ways that ordinary cuts never could.
He fell.
Not gracefully. Not with dignity. He tumbled through the air like a broken bird, his cape tangling around him, his body spinning out of control. He hit the ground in an empty intersection, skidding across the asphalt before coming to a stop in a heap of twisted limbs and burning red fabric.
Jason crashed down on him.
Foot first.
His boot slammed into the Last Sun's chest with enough force to crack the street beneath them. The Kryptonian gasped....actually gasped, the sound wet and ragged, his eyes wide with something that might have been surprise.
Jason didn't give him time to recover.
He stomped again. And again. His boot connected with the Last Sun's face, smashing his head against the pavement, each impact sending cracks spider-webbing across the ground. Blood sprayed from the Kryptonian's split lips, mixing with the dust and debris.
"You want to hunt?" Jason's voice was barely human, thick with rage. "You want to come to MY world and hurt MY people?"
Stomp.
"Kill MY friends?"
Stomp.
"Burn MY world?"
Stomp.
He grabbed the Last Sun by his charred collar and flipped him onto his back. The Kryptonian's face was a ruin—swollen, bleeding, one eye swollen shut, the other still burning with that infernal red glow. But he was smiling. Even now, beaten and broken, he was smiling.
"WHO FUCKING SENT YOU?"
The Last Sun laughed...a wet, gurgling sound that bubbled up from his damaged throat.
His eyes flared.
Heat vision erupted from his gaze, point-blank, aimed directly at Jason's face.
Jason didn't flinch.
His hands came up, palms forward, and slashes bloomed from his skin—tiny, precise, countless. They shredded the heat vision before it could reach him, tearing the beams apart like paper in a blender. Red light scattered in every direction, harmless, useless.
The Last Sun's smile faltered.
Behind him, the air split open.
The dark gate materialized...jagged edges, absolute blackness, the same gate that had swallowed Rogol Zaar's axe. It reached for the Last Sun like a hungry mouth, ready to pull him to safety, ready to let him escape to fight another day.
Jason was faster.
"DEATH SLASH."
The blade that left his hand wasn't green. It wasn't visible at all. It was just ending...absolute, final, irreversible. It struck the gate before the gate could close, and the darkness screamed. The jagged edges crumbled. The blackness bled gray. The gate died, collapsing in on itself, sealing shut forever.
The Last Sun's eyes went wide.
Jason's hands came down.
"Dimensional Cleave."
Two slashes. Two arms.
The Last Sun's limbs separated from his body at the shoulders, severed cleanly, falling to the ground with wet thuds. Blood poured from the stumps, black in the moonlight, pooling around the Kryptonian's ruined form.
"WHO." Jason grabbed the Last Sun's hair, yanking his head up. "FUCKING." His voice was ice. "SENT YOU."
The Last Sun screamed.
The sound tore through the night—raw, agonized, inhuman. But beneath the pain, beneath the dying, there was something else.
Laughter.
He laughed through his screams, blood bubbling from his lips, his one remaining eye fixed on Jason with mad delight.
"Your... mother..."
Jason's face went blank.
His hand moved.
The Dimensional Cleave that left his palm was silent, invisible, absolute. It struck the Last Sun's neck and kept going, severing head from body, ending the hunter's existence in a single, perfect cut.
The head rolled across the pavement. The body slumped. The blood continued to pool.
Jason stood over the corpse, his chest heaving, his hands trembling, his suit soaked in Kryptonian blood.
"FUCK!"
He kicked the body.
"FUCK!"
He kicked it again.
"FUCK!"
Kara landed beside him quietly, her feet touching the pavement without a sound. She looked at the body, at the head, at the blood spreading in a dark halo around Jason's boots. Then she looked at him—really looked, seeing the rage and anger
...
Suddenly, a door materialized in front of him.
It hadn't been there a moment ago. One second, empty air and shattered pavement. The next, a threshold standing upright in the middle of the intersection, its frame carved with an insignia that Jason knew as well as his own face—the Ankh. Death's symbol. Death's invitation.
He turned to Kara, his voice steady despite the blood still drying on his hands. "Go back to Clark. Protect him." His eyes swept the horizon, scanning for threats that hadn't yet shown themselves. "Tell Diana to go on full alert mode. We don't know how many of these bastards we'll be seeing soon."
Kara nodded. She didn't argue. Didn't ask questions. She just touched his arm once...brief, warm, grounding...and then she was gone, a blur of blonde and red disappearing into the night.
Jason walked toward the door.
He didn't hesitate. Didn't prepare. He just grabbed the handle, pulled it open, and stepped through.
The threshold swallowed him.
....
Once again, he stood in Death's home.
The same average-looking modern house welcomed him with its quiet grace. Nothing flashy. Nothing extravagant. Just clean lines, comfortable furniture, and the kind of stillness that came from a place where time didn't matter. The kitchen glowed with soft light, and at the counter, Death stood pouring something dark into two glasses.
"What the fuck is going on?" Jason's voice echoed through the space, sharp and raw. "Who is the bastard coming after me? Huh!"
Death didn't flinch. She didn't even look up. She just finished pouring, set the bottle aside, and slid one of the glasses across the counter toward him.
"Relax, honey." Her voice was calm, warm, the voice of someone who had seen empires rise and fall and found neither particularly interesting. "Here. Have a drink."
Jason stared at the glass. At her. At the gentle smile that didn't reach her eyes.
He sighed.
The anger drained out of him—not gone, but pushed down, contained, stored for later. He pulled out a stool and sat at the counter, his elbows resting on the cool surface, his head hanging low.
"Can you answer my question?" His voice was quieter now. Calmer.
"Now...That's how you speak to a lady..." Death teased, pushing the glass closer.
Jason snorted. He picked up the glass and took a sip. The liquid was warm, smooth, tasted like nothing he had ever drunk before. It settled in his chest like a hearth fire.
Death leaned against the counter across from him, her own glass cradled in both hands.
"The being after you is known as the Empty Hand." Her voice was matter-of-fact, clinical almost. "A sentient part of the Great Darkness."
Jason looked up. "What? Why the hell is such a being out for my head?"
"For fun."
The word hung in the air between them.
"What?"
"Like you heard." Death shrugged one shoulder, her expression unchanged. "That being thinks you're fun. So he's doing all this. He wanted to toy with you." She took a sip of her drink. "That's the sort of being he is."
Jason set his glass down. His jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists on the counter.
"Empty Hand," Death continued, "is an existence even beyond me. Only God could do something about him." She met Jason's eyes, and for the first time, something like warning flickered behind her calm gaze. "But you mustn't worry too much. He can never attack or harm you directly. That's why he sends his hunters." A pause. "He's doing all of this for his own entertainment."
The kitchen was silent.
Jason stared at the counter, at the wood grain, at the reflection of the light in his glass. His mind churned through the implications, through the danger, through the sheer cosmic scale of the entity that had decided he was interesting.
"For fun," he repeated. His voice was flat.
"For fun," Death confirmed.
Jason picked up his glass and drained it in one long swallow. The warmth spread through his chest, his stomach, his limbs. It didn't dull the anger. It didn't quiet the rage. But it made them feel... manageable.
"Great," he muttered, setting the empty glass down with a click. "Just great."
Death smiled and reached for the bottle. "Another?"
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If you Like this story! Check out my other story ! Shadow Monarch in Danmachi!
AND
If you wish to read more or simply support me just because ? than check out my patréon at
"https://www.patréon.com/Riadooo"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want !