The war was over but its echoes refused to fade.
Though Ashborn had restored the Earth to its former state, reversing the material destruction with terrifying ease, the death toll remained untouched. Thousands… civilians, heroes, and even villains lay among the casualties. The city's skies were no longer choked with smoke, but grief lingered in the air, heavy and thick.
Streets were lined with hastily constructed memorials. Heroes and civilians worked side by side, lighting candles, preparing funerals. Capes fluttered in silence, not from wind, but from solemn duty. Statues were planned, names engraved on black stone, and not a single hand remained idle.
Even the villains, infamous for their selfishness and cruelty, stayed quiet. No jailbreaks, no plots, no crimes. They too had stood on the frontlines. They had witnessed the end and somehow felt part of it. Not allies, not enemies, but survivors. They walked the streets in silence, unchallenged by the League, offering no threats in return. A moment of stillness had overtaken even the worst of them.
But what overshadowed even the mourning was the man who brought it all to an end: Ashborn.
The Shadow Monarch.
His arrival, his power, his dominion. All of it left an impression that none could forget. The world had watched him fight Darkseid and win. It shattered illusions the Justice League had held for years. Once, they prepared to face gods and titans. Once, they believed in unity and strategy to face anything. How they failed to stop Darkseid and how Ashborn's arrival changed everything.
They remembered how, not long ago, they considered fighting him, fighting the shadow monarch.
It felt laughable now. Pathetic.
Ashborn wasn't just stronger. He was a being beyond anything they knew or understood. His otherworldly form, his words, his presence, it carved into their souls the truth: this wasn't someone they could oppose. Not physically. Not ideologically. Not even in thought.
And perhaps worse than his might… was his knowledge.
Wherever shadows touched, Ashborn could see. Listen. Know. It didn't matter if it was a whisper in the Watchtower or a prayer in Atlantis, if it hid in darkness, he was there. That truth sank into their bones. No more private conversations. No more off-handed judgments. Even alone, no one dared speak ill of the Shadow Monarch.
He commanded both death and darkness.
His army was made of the dead. And they followed him in blind loyalty. Reverence. A kin to soulless slaves. Even Trigon, the nightmare demon so many thought unstoppable, stood among Ashborn's ranks, just another soldier.
When Raven of the Teen Titans saw her father among the dead, she fell to her knees. Her counterpart from another world screamed in horror. Trigon, their father, who once threatened the world, was gone. His soul belonged to someone else now. Someone far worse.
Dr. Fate, though shaken, had been one of the few to speak. His voice trembled as he recalled the red-haired man that came through the red gate. "Chaos and destruction personified," he said. "That creature shouldn't exist in this realm."
He refused to repeat Antares' name aloud. And no one asked him to.
Even Wonder Woman, once proud and defiant, had crumbled beneath the truth. Her mother was dead. Ashborn's shadows would have taken all of Themyscira. She had vowed vengeance but that vow turned to void. She had seen the transformation. She had felt the fear, as if the concept of death itself stared at her.
There was no pride left. Only awe and terror in their rawest form.
And the knowledge that she lived... only because he allowed it.
The world had changed. The League had changed. Even the villains had changed. But above all… the balance had shifted.
Ashborn did not speak a word. He did not do anything.
He simply existed. And that was enough to keep everyone afraid.
___________
Kara sat atop the skeletal remains of a skyscraper, her legs drawn up loosely as she looked over the city. The once-familiar skyline was darkened, a reminder of war and power. Below, emergency lights flickered like dying stars, struggling to restore some semblance of normalcy. Yet up here, there was only wind, silence, and her thoughts.
Then, the wind shifted and a figure landed beside her with a soft thud. Kara turned her head slightly and saw Galatea.
Galatea didn't speak immediately. She just stood there, awkward but composed. After a few seconds, she asked, "Can I sit?"
Kara narrowed her eyes. "What do you want?"
Galatea gave a faint smirk. "I'll take that as a yes," she said, and lowered herself beside Kara, her tone softening. "I wanted to thank you… for saving me back there. If not for you, those two unhinged bitches would've killed me."
Kara glanced sideways at her. "You came to help me first. I paid you back."
Galatea nodded. "Maybe... I was disoriented from the pain. Still, I noticed how you blocked them with your body. You nearly died. You didn't have to do that… for a clone."
Kara was silent for a long moment. Finally, she said, "I didn't mean to sacrifice myself for you. But... my body moved on its own. I guess I've gotten used to throwing myself in front of people."
Galatea stared ahead, then slowly exhaled. "I hated you. Since the day I opened my eyes. I always knew I was a clone, a fake. And you were the real one. I blamed you for everything about my existence. I wanted to prove I was better than you. That I existed... not just as someone's science project. Even when I said I wanted nothing to do with you, I…" she faltered, "I still enjoyed seeing you tormented. I enjoyed your misery."
Kara's lips tightened, but she didn't interrupt.
Galatea lowered her head. "I'm sorry. For hurting you. For lying. For making you suffer… because I was jealous."
Silence again. Then Kara finally spoke, her voice soft. "I hated you too. For just being there. I hated that they made you. I blamed you, because you were the only face I could see and hit."
Galatea didn't respond, letting Kara continue.
"When I lost to you… I felt angry. At you. At myself. I felt... worthless. For a moment I thought, maybe I wasn't the real one. And my hate for you grew. I started to feel jealous, too. And when Ashborn chose you to follow him instead of me... it hurt. I told myself he was an idiot. That you tricked him. That he just couldn't see who you really were."
Kara looked down, hands clenched on her knees. "I thought you were a scumbag. I couldn't understand what he saw in you."
Galatea didn't flinch, though the words clearly hit her.
"But then… when Darkseid came," Kara said, her voice quieter now, "you agreed to help. You didn't need to. You and Ace could've run. Waited for Ashborn and Amazo to come back. But you didn't. You stayed. You fought... with everything you had. And seeing what Ashborn was capable of all along and you two knew, your stand has more weight than any of us"
Kara turned to face her. "I see now. I was wrong."
Galatea blinked, her expression caught somewhere between pain and relief. Then, slowly, she extended a hand. "A new start?"
Kara looked at the hand for a moment… then smiled faintly and took it.
Galatea grinned. "I've wanted a little sister for a while now."
Kara scoffed, "I'm older than you."
Galatea chuckled. "I'm older physically."
The two sat there, side by side, no longer enemies, no longer rivals. Just two versions of a girl who had finally found understanding in the wreckage of their pasts.
And maybe, a family neither ever thought they'd have.
___________
Ashborn sat in the silence of his rebuilt office. But he hadn't come to work, he simply wanted to be alone.
War. Conflict. Power. None of it mattered to him. Not after what the System forced him to endure. After what this world's chaos had taken from him. He thought he could avoid the cycle of bloodshed, enjoy life, even feel something close to peace. But he underestimated the madness of this world and someone he had grown close to paid the ultimate price.
A knock on the tall glass window broke the silence.
Ashborn turned slightly, his eyes landing on the figure hovering outside, Superman.
He pressed a button on the desk. The window slid open.
Superman stepped inside slowly, surveying the office before focusing on the seated man. "Thank you," Superman said quietly. "For stopping Darkseid. For saving Earth."
Ashborn didn't meet his gaze. "This is my planet and home as much as it is yours. What do you really want?"
Superman hesitated, then asked, "Why did you go after Lex Luthor? What did you do to him?"
Ashborn's reply came without hesitation. "Do the details matter? Lex is dead. That's the end of it."
Superman's jaw tightened. "I just want to understand what's going on. The things you've done over the years... the words that red-haired man said, none of it makes sense. Ashborn… What side are you on really?"
At that, Ashborn slowly looked up. His eyes looked dim and exhausted.
"I'm just someone who's bored," he said, "and tired. Tired of fighting. Of killing. I see no purpose or joy in it. Lex Luthor wasn't just Lex anymore. Years ago, when Brainiac attacked and blasted him in that lab, he didn't just fail the killing attempt. He left a copy of himself, his code, inside Luthor."
Superman's eyes narrowed slightly.
"By the time you reached him," Ashborn continued, "It was already too late. Brainiac could have taken full control and wiped out your little band of heroes in a heartbeat. Even if you had defeated Lex, he would have eventually joined with Gorilla Grodd and the Legion of Doom to bring back Darkseid through their own twisted means."
"And Earth would've been invaded," Superman said, slowly putting it together.
"More than invaded," Ashborn nodded. "Devastated. And in that whole sick play, both Lex and Brainiac would die. So I took the liberty of ending that possibility early. I changed the board."
He let out a hollow chuckle. "Funny thing is, even after all that... the world was still invaded. Another avatar of Darkseid, from another reality."
Superman was quiet for a moment. Then he asked the question that had haunted him. "Why did you try to kill me?"
Ashborn tilted his head slightly. "I didn't. I ordered Beru to bring Lex. And I told him not to kill anyone. He figured the fastest way to complete the mission and impress me was to put a hole through you while avoiding all vital organs."
Superman placed a hand to his temple and sighed, deeply frustrated. "Why didn't you explain that? Why not come clean and avoid all the conflict?"
Ashborn finally stood, walking to the window. His gaze swept across the skyline. "Because if I did... you'd grow complacent. Knowing I'm around to stop what you can't. To clean up every mess. But the threat of shadows... of something you can't fully understand... that keeps you sharp. On edge. It makes you do better. It ensures I don't have to fight personally."
Superman was quiet for a long moment. "Courtney reaching your home to ask Ace and Amazo to stop you... that was staged, wasn't it?"
Ashborn nodded. "I teleported her just close enough for my play to complete. You needed to continue believing something dangerous and unknown is lurking while staying away from me. And you did."
Superman walked toward the window. He paused before stepping out. "We'll do our best... so you won't have to step in again."
Ashborn didn't reply.