章節 57: The Void
Raven lay in bed, her head resting on Mark's chest. She could hear his heartbeat, steady and strong, and it calmed her. She let out a soft sigh, nuzzling against him, her fingers tracing gentle circles across his chest. "I don't want to get up," she said, her voice a soft whisper in the quiet room. Mark chuckled, his hand rubbing her back slowly. "I don't either," he admitted. "Maybe we should just stay here. Forever."
"That would be nice..." Raven murmured, pressing her cheek to his skin, closing her eyes. But despite the comfort of the moment, a slight crease formed on her brow. She was troubled, even if she didn't want to admit it. Mark noticed instantly, feeling her tension. "What's wrong?" he asked, the concern clear in his voice.
"Nothing," Raven replied, not lifting her head.
"Don't give me that," Mark said, squeezing her closer. "I can tell when your emotionless expression is slightly more... sad."
Raven smirked a little, but only for a moment. She lifted her hand and gently slapped his chest, though the touch was more affectionate than annoyed. "Idiot," she muttered, but the smile quickly faded, replaced with unease. "Do you ever think... maybe us meeting wasn't... natural? Like something—or someone—organized it." Mark's hand slid up to Raven's hair, his fingers running through the dark strands, gently combing them back. He lifted her up from his chest, shifting their position so that he could look into her eyes. "I prefer to think it was destiny," he said simply, his voice soft but certain. He leaned in and kissed her, pressing his lips against hers with all the tenderness he could muster. Raven's eyes fluttered shut, the tension in her body easing as she melted into the kiss.
When they finally pulled apart, Raven's eyes shimmered with tears. She didn't let them fall, but they were there, hanging on the edge. "If this is my destiny... I feel like I don't deserve it," she said, her voice trembling. Mark's expression was serious, his eyes unwavering as he cupped her face. "There is no happiness you don't deserve."
A low rumble echoed around them, and Raven's body tensed. Darkness began to encroach on their surroundings, swallowing the bed, the room, everything. It was then she realized the truth—this was all a lie. A dream. She clung to Mark tightly, her arms wrapping around him as if to anchor herself to him, to this moment. "I don't want to go back!" she cried, her voice almost breaking.
Mark's arms held her just as tightly, his chin resting on the top of her head. "It'll be okay," he whispered, his voice soothing, though it felt far away.
The darkness surged, crashing down like a tidal wave, and all she felt was emptiness, the warmth of Mark's touch fading away as the void consumed her.
Raven's eyes snapped open, and she found herself staring up into the darkness. The only light came from the torches that surrounded her, casting eerie shadows across the stone plateau on which she lay. She was on a cold, hard altar, her back aching from the rough surface. She glanced down at herself, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw her swollen belly. She screamed as she saw it start to swell further, the skin stretching tight as something moved beneath it.
The pain shot through her like a blade, and she arched her back, her head snapping back to look up. There was nothing—no stars, no ceiling, just endless, consuming darkness.
"Daughter. I am glad you are awake."
The voice was unmistakable—low, distorted, and filled with dark power. Trigon. Raven's eyes darted to the stairs leading up to the plateau, where her father's presence loomed. He was not in Marks body anymore, instead inhabiting the body of one of his followers. She was relieved that he had let Mark go but she worried if it meant he had killed him. "Where have you taken me?!" Raven's voice was sharp, angry, but her words were cut off as another contraction wracked her body. She screamed in agony, clutching her stomach as it writhed beneath her hands.
Trigon's laugh was deep, mocking, as he moved closer, his red eyes burning into her. "Isn't it obvious?" He raised a hand and pointed to the edge of the plateau. Raven followed his gesture, her eyes widening as she saw it—a figure in the distance, chained and bound. And she recognized it instantly. It was him. Trigon. His true body—massive, demonic, towering above the landscape but looking decrepit, weakened, its muscles shrunken and its skin cracked.
"This is my prison, daughter," Trigon said, his voice filled with a cold amusement. "The place I've been left to rot since the last war."
Raven's eyes were fixed on his body, bound by chains that were connected to the darkness beyond. "Why can't you escape?" she grunted through gritted teeth, her hands trembling as she gripped her stomach tighter, trying to ease the pain. "I feel no magic in your bindings."
"You feel none because there is none," Trigon replied, staring down at her. "Apart from the chains being unbreakable, that is. In truth, I could've torn free of these bindings any time I wished."
"Something's stopping you," Raven panted, fighting through the waves of pain.
Trigon's lips curled into a twisted smile. He waved his hand, and hundreds of flames erupted from his fingers, spreading out like fireflies. They illuminated the area, revealing what looked like a firmament—a slightly transparent, white barrier that the chains were attached to. Outside the firmament, there was only nothingness.
"Do you see it?" Trigon asked, his voice like a knife scraping against steel.
"There's... nothing there," Raven said, squinting as she tried to make sense of the vast void beyond.
"Look closer," Trigon urged.
Raven's gaze narrowed, and then she saw it. Massive, eldritch creatures, abominations of colossal size. Their forms were twisted, deformed—wriggling masses of tentacles, teeth, and limbs. They moved like shadows, slithering around the barrier like beasts starving for prey. Raven's body trembled involuntarily as a sense of dread filled her.
"What... what are those?" she asked, her voice weak and trembling.
"I don't know," Trigon said simply.
"What do you mean you don't know?" Raven's voice was filled with panic, a rare crack in her composure.
"No one knows," Trigon answered, his eyes still fixed on the creatures. "They were here before everything. And they'll be here after everything is gone."
Raven's fear deepened as he continued.
"They are creatures so old, so beyond understanding, that they have no names. But I know this much—they are hungry." He looked down at her, the flames of his eyes piercing through the darkness.
"They consume all," Trigon said, his voice low and measured. "Flesh, blood, stone, matter, energy. Whatever they find, they devour it. Even if I were at my full strength, they would consume me. Tear me apart, piece by piece, until nothing remained."
"That's why you're trapped here," Raven said, the realization hitting her like a punch to the gut. "If you break free from your bonds, the barrier would shatter, and they'd eat you alive."
"Indeed," Trigon replied, his voice devoid of fear. "I thought myself the lord of shadow and flame... but in the presence of him..." For a moment, Trigon's eyes seemed distant, almost reflective, but then the coldness returned as he looked back at Raven.
"My body can rot here, weaken to dust. But I will not spend a single moment longer in this place." He raised his hand, and it glowed red, hovering above Raven's writhing belly. "Soon, I will have a new body." Raven's scream cut through the silence as the contractions hit harder, her body wracked with pain as the life inside her twisted and turned. Her belly contorted, bulging unnaturally as if something was clawing its way out. Trigon's laughter filled the air as the torches burned around them, and Raven was left helpless on the altar, the darkness pressing in from all sides.
...
Mark stepped through the portal first, the fiery entrance behind him as Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash, and Green Lantern followed. The air was heavy, thick with darkness, and the smell of rot filled their noses. There was barely any light except for the torches that lined a narrow path, flickering with an unnatural glow. The darkness pressed in from all sides, almost suffocating. "Man, this place gives me the creeps," Flash muttered, shuffling his feet as his eyes darted around nervously. "Where are we?"
"I don't know," Hal replied, his voice tense. "But everything in me wants to turn around and head right back through that portal."
Wonder Woman's eyes scanned the darkness, and she felt a deep, unsettling sensation in her chest. "By Hera..." she whispered, unable to hide the fear in her voice. Superman, usually strong and confident, felt something else—weakness. It gripped him as soon as he entered this place. He could feel it in his muscles, in his bones, like something was draining the energy from him. "This place is strange," he said, looking around with concern. "There's no natural light anywhere."
Mark's gaze was forward, determined. "Eve, where are we?" he whispered, his voice sharp.
[Unknown] Eve replied, her voice echoing in his head. After a brief pause, she added, [But from the scans I'm taking, this place is the size of Manhattan. And it's contained within a gravitational barrier. Outside of that... nothing. Just a void]
A chill ran down Mark's spine. He gritted his teeth and pressed on, unwilling to let fear slow him down. "We need to keep going," he said.
Superman fell into step beside him, nodding. "He's right. The sooner we find Raven, the sooner we can get out of here." The others hesitated. Even Wonder Woman, who never showed fear, seemed reluctant. But they knew they had no choice—they had come to help Mark, and that meant pressing forward into the unknown.
They moved down the path, the darkness so thick it felt almost tangible. The torches cast a weak glow, barely able to pierce the blackness, and they were spaced so far apart that they couldn't see the next one until they were only a few feet away. It made the journey feel endless, each step swallowed by the dark. Superman walked close to the flickering lights, feeling their feeble warmth. But outside the light, the darkness gnawed at him, stripping away his strength. It was like there was an unlight was draining the solar energy out of his cells, and if he left the path, he knew it would only get worse.
Hal and Flash walked side by side, their expressions uneasy. "This place is giving me major bad vibes," Flash said under his breath, glancing over his shoulder like he expected something to jump out at any moment.
"Tell me about it," Hal replied. He raised his ring, summoning a flashlight construct and shining it around. The green beam cut through the darkness, revealing glimpses of the world around them—a jagged, cracked ground and twisted shapes, all covered in shadow. He swung the light upward, scanning the edge of the gravitational barrier, and then he saw it—a colossal creature, its form writhing with tentacles and eyes, massive and horrific. Hal's breath caught in his throat, and he stumbled back, nearly tripping over himself. Flash yelped and fell to the ground, his eyes wide with terror.
"Holy crap, what is that?!" Flash stammered, his voice cracking with panic.
Wonder Woman's face was pale, the shock clear in her eyes. Superman looked at her, catching the fear in her expression. "Diana," he said, trying to keep his voice steady, "do you know what those things are?"
She shook her head, but her voice was tight with fear. "I'm... not sure. But my mother told me stories, long ago. There were creatures that existed outside of creation, beings that ate away at the very foundations of the worlds, always trying to break through. She said that if they ever did... it would be the end of everything."
Flash forced out a shaky laugh, trying to steady himself. "That's just a story... right?"
Mark cut in, his voice hard. "Let's keep moving." The path eventually led them to what looked like the ruins of a city. The buildings were ancient, worn by time, but there was a strange mix of technology and magic woven into the architecture. Superman looked to Hal, nodding toward the shadows that blanketed the city.
"Hal, can you make a light source?" Superman asked.
Hal nodded, but there was hesitation in his eyes. "Yeah, but... I won't be much use to you all if I do. Every time I use my power here, it's like something's... eating away at it."
Superman grimaced. "I feel it too. Just do what you can."
Hal floated into the air, holding his ring high above his head. A bright green beacon exploded from the ring, illuminating the city in a harsh, bright light. For a moment, they could see everything—tall, ruined structures stretching high into the sky, strange metalwork intertwined with stone, and pathways leading deeper into the darkness.
But then, they saw them.
Hundreds of figures moved within the ruins, their bodies twisted and deformed, draped in tattered red cloaks. Their skin was pale and gray, marred by deep cuts and twisted, writhing tentacles that spilled from their backs and arms. Their faces were demonic, mouths too wide, eyes that glowed like embers. Their fingers were elongated into claws, and their screeches filled the air as Hal's light fell upon them. They twitched and convulsed, driven mad by the very space around them. "What the hell are those?!" Flash shouted, stumbling back as the creatures' cries reached a fever pitch.
"Cultists," Mark said grimly, recognizing the red cloaks. "Trigon's followers."
Superman's eyes narrowed, scanning the creatures. "What happened to them?"
"I don't know... maybe it's this place, who knows how long they've been in the Dark," Mark replied as he got ready.
The creatures screeched louder, the sound ripping through the air like nails on glass. And then they charged. Dozens, no, hundreds of them, sprinting toward Mark and the Justice League, their limbs flailing wildly as they closed the distance, a stampede of corrupted flesh.
"Get ready!" Superman yelled, his fists clenched as he prepared for the onslaught.
Mark's eyes were set, his jaw tight. He felt the fury rising in his veins, and all he could think about was Raven, somewhere beyond this horde of twisted beings. He braced himself, the black armor beginning to form around his body again, ready to carve through whatever stood in his way. Mark charged straight into the mob of creatures, fists swinging and smashing into whatever flesh and bone he could find. He wasn't holding back—his punches splattered blood and brain matter as he went for killing blows. One creature leapt at him, claws extended, and he caught it by the throat, crushing its windpipe before hurling it into the horde. He grabbed another by the skull, driving his fingers through its eye sockets, then slammed it face-first into the ground with a sickening crunch. These things were fast and feral, and they kept coming.
Superman took to the sky, darting through the mass, fists flying. He didn't aim to kill; he knocked them down, flinging them back with enough force to break bones but trying to keep his strikes non-lethal. But no matter how many he took down, they just kept getting back up, limbs twisted and broken, crawling toward him. He burned some of them with his heat vision, the blasts carving deep grooves into their bodies, but even then, they didn't stop... they just kept coming.
Flash darted between the creatures, moving at lightning speed. He swept their legs, knocked them aside, creating a whirlwind to push them back. But they recovered almost instantly, clawing at the air and lunging at him from every direction. He ducked under a slash from one of their claws, but another tackled him by surprise. Flash felt its teeth snap close to his face, and he shoved it back, getting back on his feet. "These things don't stay down!" he yelled, his voice strained.
Wonder Woman was pummelling through them with her fists, using her bracers to deflect blows and push the creatures back. She hadn't drawn her sword—she was reluctant to kill as well. She punched one creature square in the chest, shattering its ribs, but it just hissed at her, blood spilling from its mouth as it lunged at her again. She was doing her best to incapacitate, to knock them unconscious, but they weren't slowing down. In the sky above them, Hal Jordan kept his ring's light bright, illuminating the battlefield so they could see the enemies coming from every side. He hovered in place, eyes darting down as he focused on keeping the place lit. "I can't keep this up forever!" Hal shouted, the strain in his voice clear.
Mark didn't bother with anything fancy. He threw an elbow into a creature's face, caving in its skull, then stomped on another one's head, crushing it like a melon. The creatures' blood sprayed across his armorit. "Stop holding back!" he shouted to the others. "These people are dead! All that's left are these monsters!"
Wonder Woman glanced at him, hesitation in her eyes, but the truth was there. Mark was right. She gritted her teeth and drew her sword, a blade that had felled gods and monsters alike. She swung it clean through the neck of a creature, and its head rolled to the side, a fountain of black blood spurting from the wound. She cut through another, splitting it in half from the waist, then severed the arms of a third. Her eyes burned with fierce determination as she carved a path through the abominations.
Superman and Flash exchanged glances. They couldn't do it—they couldn't bring themselves to kill. But they hit harder, Superman's punches turning into outright bone-crushers, his heat vision searing through flesh and limbs. Flash became a blur of red lightning, battering the creatures into the ground, sending them flying back with every punch. One of the creatures wrapped its tentacles around Flash's legs, pulling him down. He fell hard, hitting the ground with a grunt, and another creature lunged, its jaws opening wide to bite into his shoulder. But Mark was there in a heartbeat, throwing a red sphere of condensed gravity that exploded on impact, disintegrating the creature and freeing Flash.
"Get up!" Mark barked, yanking Flash to his feet before slamming a fist into the face of another charging creature.
Flash nodded, getting back to fighting, trying to stay close to Mark. But more creatures poured forth, not just from the ruins but from the ground itself—burrowing up like worms, clawing their way out of the stone floor to join the battle. The fight turned bad, and the group was forced to split up, each of them fighting off the waves of creatures coming from all directions. Wonder Woman slashed with her sword, cutting down anything in her way, the blade flashing in the torchlight as she left trails of blood in the air. She swung her shield like a bludgeon, bashing in the heads of anything too close to strike. One creature managed to get behind her, tentacles wrapping around her arm, but she spun around and sliced its head clean off.
Superman's fists were like hammers, each blow sending creatures flying back. He used his heat vision in wide arcs, burning through the abominations like a scythe through wheat, but the darkness weighed on him, and the heat vision took more and more effort to keep up. He grappled with one creature that clawed at his eyes, tearing at his skin. With a roar, he snapped its neck, then tossed its body aside as three more piled onto him. He felt a deep pain emanate from inside him when he killed the creature... but he was seeing that he had no choice. This place was weakening him and using his powers only accelerated it.
Hal Jordan kept pouring more power into his ring to keep the light strong. But that left him vulnerable—he could only defend, not attack, as winged abominations broke off from the ground battle and ascended toward him. Their wings were skeletal, with feathers stripped to bare bones, and their faces were elongated, mouths lined with fangs, Hal formed a barrier around himself as they flew towards him. They clawed at his barrier, their talons scratching against the green energy, and Hal winced as the creatures dug into his shield, chipping away at it.
Mark formed red spheres the size of cannonballs and hurled them into the horde, watching as they exploded on impact, dismembering any creature unlucky enough to be in their path. One creature clawed at his back, and he grabbed its arm, yanked it out of its socket, and used the limb as a club to bash another's skull in. He ripped the head off one abomination and threw it into another, toppling both of them. Blood, black and steaming, sprayed over his armor as he carved a path through the horde. As they fought, Mark's thoughts were on one thing—Raven. Every blow, every kill, it was all to get to her, to save her. He felt the rage fueling him, pushing him forward as he tore through the monsters like they were paper.
The ground beneath their feet cracked, and more creatures erupted from below—these ones larger and more monstrous, their forms grotesque, with twisted horns and multiple limbs, each limb ending in a claw or a blade-like appendage. Mark's breath quickened as he took them on, punching through their chests, ripping their organs out, dismembering them piece by piece. The others followed suit, holding their ground as best they could, fighting back-to-back as the sea of abominations swirled around them.
"Mark!" Wonder Woman shouted, pointing into the distance.
He looked up and saw it—a stone pyramid that led up to a plateau, lit by more torches, standing above the ruins like a throne. That was it. That was where Raven was. Mark's eyes locked onto the altar, and he began to move toward it, cutting through whatever stood between him and that place.
"Push forward!" Superman yelled. "We're almost there!"
But then, a piercing screech sounded from above. Hal's shield flickered as the winged abominations clawed through it, and the moment the shield broke, they descended upon him like vultures. One sank its talons into Hal's arm, and he cried out as it bit into his shoulder, blood spurting from the wound. The light from his ring dimmed, and the moment it did, the world plunged into darkness.
"Hal!" Flash yelled, but he could barely see him now, the green glow gone. The darkness was suffocating, and Mark felt it pressing in, heavy and cold. They were blind now, the light gone, and surrounded by creatures.
...
Raven's screams echoed through the darkness, piercing and filled with agony. She lay on the stone altar, sweat pouring down her face, her body convulsing in pain. Around her, the cult's inner circle stood in formation, wearing blood-red cloaks that swayed as they chanted. Their voices rose and fell like a storm, speaking words in an ancient tongue as they invoked the name of their dark master. The Spear of Destiny, stabbed firmly into the ground beside them, shimmered with power. The darkness that pervaded everything else in this place was held back by its influence, forming a protective dome around the inner circle. Within this light, Trigon, possessing the body of one of his followers, loomed over Raven. He watched her suffer with an expression of twisted satisfaction, his eyes glowing. Even his main body, the massive demon chained in the distance, had its eyes open, a wicked smile spreading across its face, flames dancing around the plateau.
"A new era is soon upon us!" Trigon declared, his voice echoing like thunder. "The reign of Trigon will be born anew!"
Raven's body was wracked with contractions, her muscles to seizing and spasming as the labor tore through her. The cultists' chanting grew louder, a maddening roar that seemed to shake the ground itself. They moved in rhythm, their arms raised to the sky as they repeated Trigon's name over and over. Trigon's laughter filled the air, deep and guttural. The flames surrounding the plateau burned higher, the light from the torches almost blinding as the moment drew near. Raven gritted her teeth, her hands clutching the edge of the stone altar as another contraction ripped through her. She could feel it—the baby moving through her, being born into the world of shadow and flame.
And then, with a final scream, the baby came out. The tiny body slipped into the world, wet and crying, its high-pitched wails piercing the chanting that surrounded them. Blood covered Raven's legs and the stone altar, pooling around her as she lay gasping for breath. Her eyes were tired, sunken, but there was love there, love for her child, even in this moment of despair. The cultists' voices reached a fever pitch, and then, as the baby cried louder, they cheered, their chanting turning into a chorus of celebration. "All hail Trigon! All hail Trigon!"
Trigon reached down and picked up the newborn child, holding it high above his head like a trophy. "Behold your master!" he shouted, and the cultists erupted into wild cheers and cries of praise. The baby was small, its skin pale, but its features unmistakably like Mark's. It had tuffs of purple hair, the color of Raven's, sticking out from its head, and its eyes were wide. The child was innocent, helpless in the grasp of the demon. Raven's hand reached out, trembling and weak, trying to grasp for her child. "No... please..." she begged, her voice barely a whisper. "Give me my baby..."
But Trigon ignored her. He cradled the baby close to his chest and turned, walking past Raven's bloodied body without a glance. He approached the chained form of his true body, the demonic giant whose eyes followed him. At the foot of the massive form lay another altar, small and carved with runes, the place where the final ritual would take place. Trigon placed the baby on the altar, its cries filling the air, and gestured for one of the cultists to step forward. The robed figure carried an artifact—an orb of deep red, pulsing with energy. It was the Resurrection Stone, stolen from the Tower of Fate, a powerful relic capable of calling back souls from the next life. But Trigon's plan was not to resurrect. He wanted to switch the souls of the baby and his main body, the resurrection stone was capable of manipulating souls like none other and so it would allow him to do this task.
Raven's voice was hoarse, her throat raw from screaming. "No! Stop!" she cried, but her words barely rose above a whisper. Every breath was labored as she tried to sit up on the altar, her body weak and shaking from exhaustion. Blood pooled around her, and she could feel her strength slipping away, but she forced herself to move, rolling off the side of the altar and hitting the stone floor hard.
Pain exploded through her, but she ignored it, dragging herself across the ground, her nails scraping against the cold stone as she tried to crawl toward Trigon. She stretched out her hand, reaching for her baby, desperate to take him back from the demon's grip. But the cultists ignored her completely. Some stepped right over her as if she were nothing, one of them even crushing her fingers under his heel as he walked past, leaving her clutching her hand in pain.
Raven's mind raced, trying to find a way to stop this. She needed to save her child, but she could barely move, barely breathe. Fighting was out of the question—she didn't have enough strength to do anything to stop Trigon or his followers. But then her eyes locked onto the Spear of Destiny, glowing brightly as it was stabbed into the ground nearby. It was the main source of light protecting the circle from the darkness, and it was also the artifact that Trigon needed to fulfill his ritual. If she could destroy that light—she might be able to create a distraction, to slip away with her child. And without the spear, Trigon's plans would be ruined, he'd never be able to empower his body with the artefact.
With a grunt of effort, Raven crawled over to the spear, her fingers trembling as she reached for it. She wrapped her hands around the shaft and, summoning the last bit of strength she had, pulled it from the ground. The moment she did, the light around them wavered, and with a cry of defiance, Raven hurled the spear off the pyramid. Instantly, darkness rushed in, swallowing the plateau. The protective circle shattered, and the cultists panicked as the darkness clawed at them, the corruption pressing against their minds. Trigon, who had been facing his chained body and the altar, turned back to his daughter, his eyes narrowing in displeasure as flames flared up around him. The flames erupted from his body like an inferno, covering the entire area, beating back the darkness and illuminating the plateau once more. He marched over to Raven, eyes glowing like molten lava. With a flick of his hand, he gestured toward her, lifting her up with an invisible force and slamming her back down onto the altar, pinning her there as she struggled weakly.
"You struggle in vain, daughter," Trigon said, towering over her, his voice a rumbling growl. "You think I need light? Not two years ago, I had not felt light against my skin for millennia." He leaned in close, his face inches from hers, a twisted grin on his lips. "It is unfamiliar to me now... exposing. I much prefer the warm embrace of darkness."
Raven glared up at him, hatred burning in her eyes. "Then... why struggle?" she forced out, every word a painful effort.
Trigon's expression didn't change, but his eyes seemed to darken as he spoke. "Long ago, there was a race of people—powerful and wise. But, as with all mortals, time turned their power to weakness, and their wisdom to arrogance. When they found themselves on the brink of annihilation, their king thought he could save them by taking their capital city to a place where no one would follow."
Raven listened, trying to make sense of the story, even as her body trembled from the effort of staying conscious.
"He was right," Trigon continued, "in that no being could cross into this realm—none from creation would dare follow. But what he did not foresee was the effect of this darkness for it is not an absence of light but something else completely. Only beings of superior quality are spared from its corruption, and even then, only temporarily." Trigon glanced at his massive form chained above them, a dark silhouette against the void. "Had I remained here another few millennia, my body would have succumbed."
Raven's eyes narrowed, disbelieving. "You care for your followers... that much?"
Trigon's laugh was sharp and bitter. "I hold back the darkness for only one reason—I do not want my new vessel to be corrupted." He looked at the altar, where the baby lay, helpless and wailing. "Now, it is time to begin."
But before he could move, a flash of light brighter than anything else they had seen ripped through the flames, and Trigon's body was yanked violently through his own fire, crashing through the altar and smashing into the ground. The light dimmed for a moment, revealing Mark, his body cut up and bleeding, his armor dented and scorched. He stood at the center of the flame, holding the Spear of Destiny, its tip glowing with power. "Get away from her!" Mark roared, driving the spear deep into Trigon's side, twisting the blade. Trigon's body hit the ground hard, cracking the stone beneath him. Mark planted a foot on Trigon's chest, driving the spear deeper.
"I'm going to kill you!" Mark shouted, gritting his teeth as he put all his strength into holding Trigon down. The rest of the Justice League—Superman, Wonder Woman, Flash, and Green Lantern—followed behind him, all equally as injured and battered. Blood dripped from open wounds, and exhaustion was painted on their faces. Hal's face was pale, his body trembling from exhaustion, but his ring still shone bright.
Trigon's growl echoed like an earthquake, deep and angry. "You think you can stop me, mortal?" he hissed. His eyes burned with red energy, and before Mark could react, twin beams of hellfire shot from Trigon's eyes, slamming into Mark's chest and sending him flying across the plateau, the spear ripping from Trigon's side as Mark tumbled to the ground.
"Mark!" Raven cried out, her voice filled with desperation. She watched as Mark crashed into the stone steps of the pyramid, his body slumping from the impact. Trigon rose to his feet, the wound in his side healing rapidly, flames licking up and down his body as he regained his composure. "You will regret coming here," he laughed darkly, his voice dripping with venom.
Superman charged at Trigon first, fist pulled back, aiming for his jaw. Trigon caught the punch, absorbing the force, his eyes gleaming with wicked amusement as he squeezed Superman's fist. Superman grunted, pushing back with his strength, but Trigon didn't give an inch. With a quick motion, Trigon twisted Superman's arm, forcing him down to one knee. But before Trigon could capitalize, Wonder Woman dashed in from the side, her sword slashing downward. The blade came for Trigon's neck, gleaming in the torchlight, and he released Superman just in time to catch the blade in his bare hand. It cut into his palm, blood dripping from the wound, but Trigon grinned and flung the sword away. Wonder Woman swung her shield forward, slamming it into his chest, forcing him to stumble back. Superman followed up, launching a hard punch to Trigon's ribs, his knuckles digging deep into the demon's side.
Green Lantern hovered above, his ring flaring as he created green chains that snaked around Trigon's limbs, pulling tight and holding him in place. Wonder Woman used the moment to loop her lasso around Trigon's neck, yanking hard and pulling him to the side. Superman took the opening, unleashing a torrent of heat vision that burned into Trigon's chest. Trigon let out a growl, the flames around him erupting higher as he flexed his muscles, the green chains straining against his strength. He roared and snapped the chains apart, then grabbed Wonder Woman's lasso, yanking her forward and off her feet. As she flew toward him, Superman caught her mid-air, steadying her before they both landed on the ground.
Hal immediately formed a massive construct—a green battering ram—and sent it flying toward Trigon, aiming to slam into his chest. The battering ram struck, forcing Trigon back a step, but he dug his feet into the stone ground, stopping the momentum. His eyes flashed, twin beams of red energy cutting through the air. Hal raised a green shield just in time, the red beams bouncing off and scorching the ground around him.
"Diana, move in!" Superman shouted, taking to the air again. Wonder Woman rushed in low, her shield raised, and Superman dropped down at the same time from above, sandwiching Trigon between their attacks. Superman's fists hammered down on Trigon's shoulders, while Wonder Woman slammed her shield into Trigon's stomach. Trigon took both hits, barely moving, then swung his arms out wide, knocking them both away.
Mark pulled himself up from the rubble, his muscles screaming in pain, but all that faded when he saw Raven. She lay on the altar, her body bruised and covered in blood. She looked so small, so fragile, but she was alive. He rushed over to her, everything else—the chaos, the battle, Trigon's roars—fading away. He dropped to his knees, grabbing her, pulling her into his arms, holding her close as if she'd disappear if he let go.
"Mark..." she whispered, her voice raspy, barely audible over the sounds of the fight around them. "You came."
"Always," he said, his voice trembling with relief and emotion. His anger at Trigon, his rage, it all disappeared the moment he felt her against him. The world narrowed down to just her, and for a moment, there was no battle, no darkness—just them.
He ran his hands over her hair, cradling her head as he pressed his forehead against hers. He held her as tight as he could without hurting her, his heart pounding in his chest. "I'm getting you out of here," he whispered, his voice strong with determination. He started to lift her, to carry her away from the altar, away from this nightmare, but Raven's hand pressed weakly against his chest.
"No," she said, shaking her head, wincing from the pain. "We can't leave. Not yet."
Mark's eyes searched hers, filled with confusion. "Why?" he asked, his voice low. "We need to get out of here."
Raven's eyes turned toward the altar where their baby lay, surrounded by an aura of dark energy, protected by Trigon's power. "Our child," she said, her voice breaking as she spoke. "He's on the altar... We can't leave without him."
Mark followed her gaze, and his face hardened as he saw their child. He nodded once, eyes locking back onto hers. "We'll get him," he promised, his voice steady and calm. He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her lips, then leaned her gently behind the altar, making sure she was as safe as she could be.
"Flash!" Mark yelled, turning his attention to the battle.
A streak of red zipped toward him, stopping suddenly at his side. Flash was panting, bruises covering his face and body, his eyes darting around as he spoke. "Kinda busy here, man!" he said, glancing back at the cultists who were trying to claw at him. He'd been running circles around them, dodging their attacks and helping Superman and the others as they fought Trigon.
"Get the baby," Mark said, pointing to the altar.
Flash didn't hesitate. "On it!" he said, and in an instant, he was gone, a blur of red streaking toward the altar. He dodged the cultists, slipping through their ranks like water, and reached the altar in a heartbeat. He reached out to grab the baby, his hands moving in a blur, but the moment he touched the barrier surrounding the child, his hands burned. "Ow! Ow!" Flash yelped, shaking his hands at super speed, trying to put out the flames that licked at his fingers.
Flash vibrated his hands, moving them fast enough to phase through most barriers, but even then, the dark energy repelled him, keeping him from grabbing the baby. He ducked and dodged as the cultists threw spells and hexes at him, lightning bolts and bursts of fire sizzling through the air. "This isn't working, Mark!" Flash shouted, jumping back as a blade of energy sliced the air in front of him.
Raven's voice was weak but urgent as she spoke from behind the altar. "It's no use," she said, her breath heavy. "Trigon's power fuels the barrier. Only he can undo it."
Mark's expression darkened, his eyes flickering with fury as he turned to look at Trigon, still fighting the Justice League. He clenched his fists, rage boiling up inside him. "We need to kill him," Raven said, her voice suddenly cold and hard, matching his. Her eyes were fierce. "He's as weak as he'll ever be. That body—it's mortal. And only part of his soul is in it."
Mark nodded, the decision made in an instant. "Stay here," he said, his voice soft as he kissed her one last time. Then he stood, his eyes scanning the plateau, taking in the chaos of the battle, the cultists, and the altar. He needed a way to turn the tide, a way to end this. His eyes fell on the Spear of Destiny, glowing as it lay on the ground. The spear's light was keeping the darkness at bay, stopping the creatures from climbing the pyramid. But then he saw something else—something scattered among the artifacts that had been thrown around in the fight. A golden helmet. Mark recognized it instantly. He'd seen it before—in cartoons, on cereal boxes, on the news. Doctor Fate's helmet. The symbol of one of the most powerful sorcerers in the world.
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," he muttered to himself. Without hesitation, he reached down and grabbed the helmet, feeling its weight in his hands. He hesitated for just a moment, his fingers tightening around it.
Then he put it on.
(AN: So I know I said I was going to end it in this chapter and I really did want to but if I did it would've ran on too long. I want the fight to be cool and epic and boooom and cachowwww. Anyway next chapter is actually going to be the end of the arc and it'll be a huge fight against Trigon. I feel like I've been rushing the end of this arc a bit which has led to few things that I don't really like. But this arc has lots of things I don't like, but I do like the relationship with Raven. It's kinda made me rethink the harem as a whole and how many people I actually want in it. I used to think bigger is better but now I'm an ol man. Anyway I'm pretty sure only like one of you reads these AN, so I hope you enjoyed the chapter.)
(PS: did you know there's someone subscribed to me that only reads the authors notes she doesn't read any of the chapters.... Bro I spent like 4 days writing these chapters 🗿)
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