"Traci, what are you doing here? Get out of here!"
Doctor Thirteen, who just moments earlier had been a man teetering on the brink of madness, ready to drag the world into destruction, now stood visibly shaken. His voice cracked between panic and anger. "Shouldn't you be in the safe zone in the Alps?"
"How could I leave you, my father, alone?" Traci's eyes burned with tears and determination. "If you want to kill so many people in the world, then why not kill your daughter too?"
"I just want you to live!" the Doctor shouted, his voice trembling with a strange mix of desperation and conviction. "Only after true destruction can the world be at peace! Only then will we no longer have to live in fear of superweapons from the Amazons or Atlanteans!"
Shin, standing a few paces away, studied the heated exchange with calm detachment. Without another word, he stepped forward, catching Traci mid-step. In a single, fluid motion, he bound her with the same Lasso of Truth, restraining her father. The rope shimmered faintly, its golden threads thrumming with unyielding magic.
If the daughter could sway the father toward reason, Shin was willing to give them a chance. After all, the nuclear bomb had not yet been launched. Doctor Thirteen's hands, for all his dark intentions, were not yet stained with the final act of mass slaughter.
With that done, Shin turned back to his grim task. He resumed interrogating the gathered warmongers, generals, rulers, and influential figures from every faction. Those who renounced the idea of war, who expressed a genuine desire for peace, had their limbs healed. Those who clung stubbornly to bloodshed were granted a swifter end, Shin's merciless "cremation procedure," a beam of concentrated heat that left nothing behind.
Capturing the entire group had taken mere seconds. Shin's speed made resistance meaningless. Still, his process was deliberate, incapacitate, bind, and question. He would not kill without certainty. Interrogation, however, took far longer. The prisoners were many, their stories tangled in webs of grievance, loyalty, and delusion. Some were hopeless ideologues, others unwilling pawns caught in the current of war.
It was fortunate, Shin thought, that his heat beams left no blood or gore. Were it otherwise, the place would have been transformed into a slaughterhouse.
He was nearing the end of the questioning when the faint crackle of a radio reached his super-hearing.
"Is that… Lois Lane?" he murmured, mildly surprised. Her voice was crisp and unyielding, broadcasting an exposé of the Amazons' darkest secrets, concentration camps, human experimentation, and the crimes they had hidden behind the banner of righteousness.
But here, in this place, the Amazon warriors were silent, subdued to the point of invisibility. Whether Lois spoke or not, the war had already been decided. The moment Shin had made his move, the conflict's conclusion had been sealed.
Then, like distant thunder, he heard them, dozens of heartbeats, moving fast. The sound of air ripping apart at supersonic speeds. Superhumans. They were coming directly toward him.
Perhaps it was a coincidence. Perhaps his choice of battlefield had been too visible, his intervention too loud. But Shin suspected the truth was simpler, his sudden elimination of the warring factions had drawn attention like a flare in the night sky.
Across the planet, communication systems were fractured and unreliable. Few knew what had happened here. All they knew was that the battlefield had gone silent, its leaders vanished in an instant. Whispers had begun to spread, rumors carried by survivors and observers, and now, the powerful were converging on the source.
A boom like a cannon shot split the air. Out of a shimmering sonic boom tunnel emerged a large contingent of costumed figures. These were the superhumans Cyborg had recruited, an alliance formed in haste and necessity.
In truth, Shin's actions had bolstered their cause. Many who had been defending cities and borders no longer needed to, those who had incited the war were already captured. Others, curious or cautious, had decided to join Cyborg's side simply to see what force could shift the tide so abruptly.
A streak of golden-red light flashed into existence. The Flash skidded to a halt, his eyes darting around the scene. "What's going on here?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"Looks like someone just ended the war," Batman said in his usual gravelly monotone. "Maybe all of them. Took about ten minutes."
Shin hid a faint smirk. The fighting itself had lasted only a dozen seconds. He had simply chosen not to correct the misconception.
The newcomers' eyes quickly found him. The truth was obvious, his Lasso of Truth lay coiled and glowing in his hand, still binding more than a dozen high-ranking figures. No one else in the clearing carried the air of someone who had just dismantled a war.
"You've arrived at the perfect time," Shin said, his voice carrying easily across the space. "I was just thinking how tedious it is to interrogate all of them alone. Why don't you help me? Ask them if they intend to start another war."
He gave the rope a slight tug. "They can't lie. If they still want war, execute them."
The order might have sounded harsh, but not a single hero openly objected. Shin's results were undeniable.
"I doubt any of them are thinking about war right now," Cyborg muttered. "They've all been reduced to… sticks."
Shin shook his head. "If they had truly wanted peace, I'd have healed them already. If not, death would be quicker. Why waste the effort making them like this unless it was necessary?"
"Wait…" The Flash took a step forward, his brow furrowed. "You're saying all this, everything here, was done by you, Shin?"
"Of course," Shin replied without hesitation. "There's no other way to make them understand how rare and fragile peace is."
The Flash hesitated. "But… isn't this too brutal? Killing so many, leaving others like this? For someone who's supposed to be on the side of justice—"
Shin's voice cut through his words. "Brutal? No. I didn't indiscriminately slaughter everyone on the battlefield. I captured them one by one, restrained them, and questioned them. Only those who refused to abandon war met their end. That's mercy, Barry—more mercy than this world usually allows."
He took a step closer, his eyes locking on the speedster's. "Times change. So do the rules. If you doubt me, ask the others here. See if anyone thinks my methods are too extreme."
Barry turned to the surrounding heroes, expecting hesitation, maybe discomfort. Instead, he found only neutral stares and, in more than a few eyes, admiration.
Batman spoke next, his voice low but firm. "He's right, Barry. Your methods don't work here. This world doesn't allow for them. Choosing not to harm the innocent is noble. But here, that alone won't save anyone."
Barry's jaw tightened, his gaze falling to the ground. The silence that followed was heavy, not with fear, but with the unspoken acknowledgment that justice, in this world, was carved from necessity rather than ideals.
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