"Trigon, I've come to bargain."
Squish.
**
"Trigon, I've come to bargain."
Squelch.
**
"Trigon, I've come to bargain."
Crunch.
**
It went on.
Again and again and again.
Joseph lost count somewhere after a hundred.
Sometimes Trigon drew it out—hellfire, dismemberment, slow crushing pressure meant to break them. Most other times, he ended it instantly. A few times, he even paused to speak, probing for a reaction, only to be met with Nabu's unshakable repetition… and then their deaths.
Joseph felt all of it.
Every burn. Every rupture. Every time his body was torn apart or crushed between titanic fingers.
And through it all, he maintained the balance.
That was the only thing that mattered.
The four forces. The equilibrium. The loop.
His body could break a thousand times—it didn't matter. But if his focus slipped, even once, everything would collapse.
So he endured.
He was almost impressed with Nabu. The sheer patience required to repeat the same words, without deviation, without emotion, over tens of thousands of cycles…
Then again, Joseph supposed spending millennia sealed inside a helmet would do that to you.
And it was working.
Joseph could feel it.
The strain on Trigon. The irritation. The disruption of a being unused to repetition, to denial, to being stopped.
All he had to do was hold on.
Even as the pain worsened.
Even as his mind stretched thinner with every loop.
He held.
This was the same will that had allowed him to project a planetary shield over Oa with ten Green Lantern rings.
He had endured worse before. He would endure this.
At first, he had faltered—pain, inexperience, the sheer difficulty of balancing everything at once.
But he learned.
Adapted.
Now his mind drifted into something deeper than focus—something closer to meditation. Detached. Steady. Unbreaking.
**
"Trigon, I've come to bargain," Nabu said once more.
"Enough!" Trigon roared, genuine frustration breaking through at last. "The same words, over and over. I have killed you thousands of times, and you have not once reacted. You deny me escape, deny me conquest—deny me everything!"
His voice dropped, seething.
"Fine. We will bargain. State your terms."
"First, do not seek out your daughter Raven ever again."
Nova had relayed many things to Nabu during this time. There wasn't much else to do—Joseph couldn't spare the attention to join in, his mind already stretched thin.
Nova had filled Nabu in on the modern world, far removed from the WWII era when he had last been active. He explained what Vandal Savage had been doing with the Light, and told him about Joseph's life and the people he had encountered.
Of course, not everything was revealed.
But now Nabu understood Joseph—much like Dubbilex had. The faint grudge Nova had sensed in him for Joseph killing Savage had faded, replaced by something more pragmatic. Nabu would now serve as a useful ally in Joseph's mission to protect Earth.
"Second," Nabu continued, "allow us to leave this dimension immediately with Raven's crystal, without interference—even in the future."
"And third, withdraw all active influence from Earth—no avatars, no possessions, no demons crossing over, and no manipulation of cults such as the Church of Blood."
"In exchange, we will end the time loop and release the dimensional binding, restoring your full freedom within your realm and allowing you to travel to other universes, so long as they are not ours and do not affect our universe," Nabu finished.
And there was an unspoken understanding beneath it all: any violation would result in Joseph returning—stronger, more prepared, and far less willing to negotiate.
Trigon looked at them, then laughed.
"In all my years, I have never known defeat," he said. "But today… I have been brought to a standstill."
His gaze locked onto Joseph.
"I accept your terms, New God. I stake my reputation on it."
A pause.
"But before you leave… tell me the name of the one who managed to stop me."
Nova opened a Boom Tube. This time, the golden portal shimmered with a blue core—Order and Chaos woven together to ensure Trigon couldn't wedge himself within the path between worlds.
Nabu spoke for the last time.
"The one who stopped you is Earth's protector … Nova."
Then they stepped through the Boom Tube and disappeared.
**
| Oort Cloud - November 2
Joseph maintained the balance—
until it was ripped away.
His absolute control over the Speed Force vanished in an instant, wrenched from his grasp. The delicate equilibrium shattered, and in that single moment of distraction, everything collapsed.
Order and Chaos collided inside him.
The backlash was immediate.
Explosions of opposing energies tore through his body, rupturing from within. Blood filled his throat, spilling past his eyes, ears, nostrils, and lips as his body convulsed.
The shock broke his meditative state.
Joseph forced his eyes open and looked outward, then wrenched control of his body back from Nova.
His gaze fell upon a familiar star system.
And tears slipped from his eyes.
'We won?'
//Yes, sir. Unfortunately, the Boom Tube coordinates were off. Trigon's dimension warped—//
'That doesn't matter.' Joseph cut him off. 'Earth is just another Boom Tube away. We won… Thank God.'
Relief crashed over him.
He laughed—silently, breathless, broken.
In the vacuum of space, his tears didn't fall. They pooled around his eyes, clinging there as his body drifted.
Under the Helmet of Fate, he must have looked unhinged—crying, then laughing, blood staining his lips.
But they had done it.
They had won.
How long had he held that balance?
Months? Years? Decades?
Longer?
Time in Trigon's realm had been distorted beyond comprehension. It didn't matter.
It was over.
Joseph let go.
The balance dissolved. The blue aura faded from his body, and the Ambre Jeune Perdu dimmed, shifting from green back to its natural amber.
Then—
pain.
Not just physical.
Existential.
It hit all at once.
Joseph's body convulsed as something deeper unraveled. He felt himself slipping—phasing between states, fragments of his being pulling away into the Speed Force, the Strength Force… even the Source itself.
His anti-gravity field spiraled out of control.
His silent laughter twisted into a soundless scream.
'What's happening?!' he shouted internally.
Nabu's voice came.
[Wielding forces like the Strength Force and Speed Force at their full capacity while balancing Order and Chaos within a single vessel—while drawing endlessly from the Source—has consequences.]
[You were not merely channeling power. You became a junction point for multiple primal forces.]
[Your body and soul were stretched continuously to maintain that balance. Any ordinary being would have perished countless times over—but your New God physiology, combined with your Amazon heritage, anchored you.]
[Now the tension has released. The strain has rebounded all at once.]
Joseph's thoughts fractured under the pressure.
[You must withstand the backlash. Otherwise, you will break completely and die.]
Why didn't you tell me this before?! Joseph roared.
[Because I only just understood the full extent of it,] Nabu replied. [I believe you are capable of enduring it. You did say you were built different.]
A pause.
[Now we will see if that belief was justified… son of Hope. Blessed of Horus.]
Joseph would have questioned that.
Under any other circumstances, he would have demanded answers.
But there was no time.
The pain eclipsed everything.
It made everything he had endured in Trigon's realm feel insignificant.
Nova flooded his mind with psychic energy, trying to stabilize him. Nabu forced Order magic through his system, attempting to suppress the chaos.
It wasn't enough.
His thoughts raced beyond control.
His mind moved across multiple timelines at once, no longer bound by cause and effect.
His body felt impossibly heavy—and impossibly stable—while simultaneously being torn apart from within.
Order and Chaos clashed inside him.
The Source pulled at him, as if reclaiming what he had taken, stripping away his Nova Force piece by piece.
**
| Apokolips - November 2
Darkseid tilted his head slightly.
He had felt it.
An anomaly.
**
| New Genesis - November 2
Highfather Izaya paused.
His gaze shifted.
He, too, had noticed.
**
| The Source Wall - November 2
Metron turned from the vast barrier of petrified Old Gods as the Mobius Chair registered a disturbance within the Source itself.
Interesting.
For a moment, his attention sharpened—
Then the anomaly vanished.
His interest faded just as quickly.
Perhaps an error.
Something to investigate later.
**
| Oort Cloud - November 2
Joseph was breaking.
He tried to hold on.
But it was so much easier to let go.
To give in.
His thoughts fractured further.
Order and Chaos pulled at his mind, instilling conflicting impulses.
Should I just die? the thought slipped through.
For a moment—
he almost accepted it.
Then—
Kori.
Cass.
Jason.
His brothers.
His friends.
Earth.
The images slammed into him.
Joseph screamed in defiance.
But it wasn't enough.
The strain was too great.
Maybe… he wasn't built differently after all.
[Joseph, hold on,] Nabu's voice echoed faintly.
He tried.
He really did.
But his soul had been stretched too far.
And finally—
it snapped.
In his last moments, through the collapsing noise of his mind, he thought he heard Nova.
//Give me some time, sir. You will survive.//
Then Joseph Bell Luthor died.