William stepped through the Boom Tube, his arrival heralded by a crackling vortex of light that dissipated with a thunderous whump. He emerged onto the war-torn streets, still clad in his symbiotic bone-plate armor, though its usual stark white had deepened to a menacing crimson, pulsing with the rage-fueled energy of the Red Lantern Ring. Faint embers flickered along the edges of his armor, residual heat radiating off him like a furnace, causing the fractured pavement beneath his boots to hiss and crack as it struggled to endure his presence.
A long, slow exhale left his lips as he took in his surroundings. Earth. He was finally back.
But any relief he might have felt was short-lived.
The city, once a proud and thriving metropolis, was now a ruinous wasteland. Skyscrapers that had once pierced the heavens now lay broken, their jagged remains jutting from the earth like the ribs of a long-dead beast. Smoke coiled lazily into the sky, a thick and oppressive veil that cast the sun in a sickly amber glow. Rubble choked the streets, mingling with twisted steel, shattered glass, and the still-smoking husks of vehicles that had been left abandoned in the chaos.
And the bodies.
Dead Parademons lay in grotesque heaps, their insectoid exoskeletons shattered, their lifeless red eyes staring into nothingness. But it wasn't just them. Scattered among the alien corpses were humans, soldiers, civilians, men, women, and children. Some had died in the crossfire, others in desperate bids for survival that had ended in brutal failure.
From the shadows of collapsed buildings and underground shelters, survivors hesitantly emerged, their faces gaunt with hunger, their eyes hollow with grief. A ripple of sorrow swept through them as they took in the devastation, their tentative hope shattered the moment they recognized lifeless forms among the rubble. Cries of anguish soon filled the air, a wailing crescendo of sorrow as families fell to their knees beside the bodies of their loved ones, hands shaking as they reached out to faces that would never smile again.
William lifted off the ground, his movements slow and deliberate. The Red Lantern's power thrummed in his veins, his aura an ominous crimson glow that contrasted harshly with the gray desolation around him. The motion caught the attention of a group of civilians who weren't yet lost in their grief.
They turned their eyes toward him.
And they froze.
Fear flickered in their gazes, raw, unfiltered terror. The sight of him, wrapped in his bone-plate armor, glowing red like a vengeful specter, stirred fresh memories of the horror they had just endured. Darkseid's forces had come from the sky, beings of immeasurable power who had torn their lives apart. And now, here was another, floating above them, armored in crimson like a harbinger of death.
Some began trembling. Others instinctively stepped backward, the trauma of the invasion still fresh in their bones. A mother clutched her child to her chest, shielding them as if expecting another godlike entity to lay waste to what little remained of their world.
William saw it all. Felt it all.
The sheer weight of grief, despair, and terror pressing upon the broken souls of these survivors settled into him like a living force. In response, his yellow ring flared to life beneath the crimson symbiote, veins of golden energy threading through his suit like coursing rivers of light. The contrast was both eerie and mesmerizing, golden veins pulsing beneath the bone-plated armor, its power shifting in tandem with his emotions.
He raised a hand, fingers splayed, and a silent pulse of willpower radiated outward. The power of the yellow ring, the embodiment of fear itself, allowed him not only to command it but to manipulate it. And so, he did.
The fear of those around him, raw, suffocating, and visceral, was drawn into him, siphoned away like a poison being extracted from an open wound. The civilians gasped as the crushing weight on their chests lightened, their frantic pulses steadying, their panicked minds clearing. Though their grief remained, the paralyzing terror of Darkseid's invasion ebbed, replaced by the first semblance of clarity they had felt since the nightmare began.
Their wide, disbelieving eyes followed William as he ascended into the ruined sky, his figure vanishing into the smoke and ash, moving with purpose toward his next destination.
Near the hidden resistance base, a grim tableau was unfolding.
Batman knelt on the cracked concrete, his cowl shadowing his grief-stricken face as he cradled the shattered body of his son, Damian. The boy's chest barely rose and fell, his breaths shallow, each one weaker than the last. Blood trickled from his wounds, seeping into Bruce's gauntlets, staining them in a way that no amount of washing would ever erase.
Granny Goodness, the sadistic general of Darkseid's Female Furies, had nearly finished the job, had nearly taken his son from him. But in an unexpected turn, the cruel war matron had begun thrashing wildly, her powerful limbs twitching and spasming without cause. This erratic behavior had granted the magical heroes, Zatanna and Raven, the perfect opening to act.
Raven's dark magic and Zatanna's divine spells intertwined, forming chains of enchanted energy that lashed around Granny's form. The restraints weren't mere shackles, they were prisons of the soul, designed to sap her strength, suppress her godly essence, and stifle her emotions. The once-imposing figure of Granny Goodness was now bound, her furious roars growing weaker as her power was drained away with every second that passed.
But there was no time to revel in her capture.
A golden light flickered in the distance, growing brighter and brighter until it fully materialized before them. When the glow receded, a figure stood in its place, Diana.
Only, this wasn't the Diana they had once known.
She was drenched in a strange, shimmering oil that coated her armor in an unnatural sheen, enhancing the already ominous aura she exuded. Her stance was poised, but her expression, arrogant, cruel, was what truly made her presence terrifying.
Her sharp blue eyes flickered toward Batman, taking in the sight of him clutching Damian's bleeding form. And then… she scoffed.
"Pathetic little man," she sneered, rolling her shoulders as if the scene before her wasn't worth her time.
With a lazy flick of her wrist, she extended a hand. A pulse of divine power shot forth, calling her weapon to her.
BOOM!
A bolt of cosmic lightning crashed from the heavens, streaking downward in a jagged arc before slamming into her grasp with the force of a meteor. When the light dissipated, her spear was in her hand, crackling with divine energy, wreathed in violent arcs of blue lightning.
She took a step forward. Then another.
Slow. Methodical. Like a predator toying with its prey.
"Any last words, Bruce?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement as she leveled the weapon at his chest, its lightning hissing like a coiled serpent ready to strike.
Batman lifted his gaze to meet hers.
His eyes, weary yet unwavering, held a quiet defiance. A glint flickered within them, subtle yet unmistakable.
"Goodbye, Diana."
He closed his eyes, not in surrender, but in farewell.
Diana's lips curled into a smirk. Pitiful.
She raised the spear to its optimal height, lightning dancing across the length of the weapon as she prepared to deliver the final, fatal strike—
"SKT!"
Her body jerked violently as a black volcanic spear erupted through her chest, the jagged, molten blade piercing clean through her sternum.
Her breath hitched. Her grip faltered. The clatter of her spear hitting the ground echoed like a death knell.
Diana coughed, and a mouthful of crimson spilled from her lips, painting the golden glow of her once-pristine armor in an eerie contrast. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the weapon embedded in her chest, grasping the broad blade with desperate, shaky hands.
Her strength, the godly might she once wielded so effortlessly, failed her. She couldn't pull it out. The spear, dark, jagged, and humming with raw, infernal energy, was sapping her power, draining her very essence.
And then she felt it.
A hand.
A strong, unrelenting grip tightening around the shaft of the spear, from behind.
A cold shiver raced down her spine as realization set in.
She wasn't alone.
William loomed behind the critically wounded Diana, his expression twisted into a smirk as he regarded the once-proud Amazon. Her body trembled, blood seeping from the gaping wound in her chest, yet there was still defiance in her eyes. That defiance, however, would soon be broken.
With no hesitation, he reached out and grabbed a fistful of her dark, oil-drenched hair. Before she could react, he slammed her face into the dirt with brutal force.
"CRACK!"
The ground buckled beneath the impact, dust and debris shooting into the air as Diana's head bounced off the rubble, leaving behind a smear of blood. A muffled grunt of pain escaped her lips, but William wasn't done. He firmly grasped the spear still embedded in her chest and, with a sharp, merciless yank—
"SQUELCH!"
Flesh tore. Bone splintered. The serrated edges of Darkseid's weapon shredded through her insides as it was wrenched free, leaving behind a gaping, pulsing wound.
"AAAHHHH!"
Diana's scream pierced the air, raw and filled with agony. She rolled onto her back, gasping for breath, her body wracked with pain as she looked up at her assailant. Her vision blurred, the edges of the world darkening as blood loss drained the strength from her limbs. Yet, her mind still clung to one burning question.
"YOU?" she rasped, eyes flickering with disbelief before narrowing in fury. "Where did you get that spear? Where is Darkseid?"
For a split second, there was something else in her gaze, concern, desperation. Then another thought struck her like a hammer to the chest.
"Where is Clark?"
Her voice wavered this time, the fire dimming as a dreadful pallor overtook her already bloodied face.
William's grin widened, his crimson-plated armor pulsating as the rage within him flared to the surface, the power of the Red Lantern feeding off his seething emotions. For a moment, it nearly consumed him.
Kill. Destroy. Tear her apart.
But then—
His yellow ring pulsed.
The embodiment of fear surged against the blind rage, counterbalancing the unrelenting fury. A twisted sense of clarity overtook him, allowing him to fully savor the moment instead of succumbing to blind wrath. His smile turned menacing as an idea formed.
Slowly, deliberately, he reached into the empty air beside him. The space rippled, distorting like the surface of a watery mirror.
And then—
He pulled something from the void.
A severed head.
With a casual toss, it landed with a sickening thud beside Diana.
Her breath hitched as her gaze instinctively dropped to the object at her side. The moment her eyes recognized it, everything stopped.
Her pupils shrank to pinpricks. Her lips trembled.
Then—
"NOOOO!"
A howl tore from her throat, raw and filled with unrestrained grief.
The sound carried through the ruins like a wailing storm, echoing across the battlefield. It was not just a scream, it was a lament. A mournful, gut-wrenching sound that spoke of loss. Of shattered love. Of the unbearable truth that the one she had fought beside, the one she had trusted… was gone.
William watched with an unflinching gaze, utterly unmoved.
He did not care.
With ruthless efficiency, he reached down and gripped her face, his fingers digging into her cheeks as he hoisted her off the ground.
Diana struggled, weakly thrashing against his grasp, but she was too far gone—her body barely responded. The blood loss was taking its toll, her limbs growing heavier by the second. Yet, William was not done.
With a powerful surge of his will, the rings of fear and rage pulsed in harmony, golden and crimson hues intertwining in a volatile dance. The air shimmered, and together, they lifted off the ground, Diana's feeble resistance growing weaker with each passing second.
William soared toward a specific location, dragging the disgraced warrior behind him like a broken trophy.
Atop a towering pillar of rubble, the ruined city sprawled beneath them. A crowd had gathered, civilians, resistance fighters, and survivors of the war. Their eyes, once filled with despair, now glowed with something else entirely, hatred.
Hatred for her.
The woman who had once fought alongside the world's greatest heroes had, in their eyes, become the very thing they once fought against. She had stood with tyranny, had enabled the horrors inflicted upon them.
And now, justice was at hand.
William released her, letting her body fall hard against the jagged stone at his feet. She let out a weak grunt, unable to even push herself up.
He turned to face the gathered masses, his arms spreading wide, his yellow, green, and red rings glowing in perfect tandem, feeding off the cacophony of emotions swirling through the air.
"LET THIS BE AN EXAMPLE TO ANY FUTURE DESPOTS AND TYRANTS!"
His voice boomed, shaking the very air.
The people below looked up, rapt with attention, their eyes reflecting the promise of retribution.
William pointed downward.
Diana's body was suddenly wrenched upward as multicolored chains erupted from the ground, coiling around her arms and legs, dragging her into the air. Her limbs were pulled taut, her body suspended in a crucifix-like pose, utterly exposed before the wrathful crowd.
Blood dripped steadily from the wound in her chest, trailing down her armor, staining the already slick oil covering her body. But the horror had only just begun.
"RUMBLE!"
The ground trembled beneath them.
A glowing spike, pulsing with shifting, multicolored energy, slowly emerged from below. Its jagged, unpredictable form twisted with each passing second, some areas glowing white-hot while others bristled with serrated, razor-like edges.
"LET THIS ONE ACT ECHO THROUGH THE UNIVERSE AS A WARNING TO THE POWERFUL AND THE ARROGANT!"
The spike rose higher, positioning itself directly beneath Diana.
Her breath grew frantic. The once proud and fearless Amazon, a warrior who had stood against gods, was now staring at her impending fate with pure, undiluted terror.
"No…" she whispered, shaking her head, struggling against the chains with what little strength she had left. "No, no, NO—"
The spike shot upward.
"SKRCH!"
Her scream was a sound that would haunt the minds of those present for the rest of their lives.
The glowing spear of energy impaled her from below, tearing through flesh, organs, and muscle, forcing its way through her very core. Blood splattered across the ground as the weapon twisted within her, its cruel, jagged surface rending her body apart from the inside.
It emerged through her mouth, shattering her teeth, ripping her tongue free as her final scream was abruptly cut short.
Her body convulsed violently.
Then, at last—
Her struggles ceased.
And the once-mighty warrior hung limply, impaled and broken, before the world that had once revered her.