The sands of Khandaq stirred under the pale light of the moon. The ruins stretched outward like the bones of some long-dead titan, fractured temples jutting from the desert floor. The Justice League descended in silence, each step deliberate, expecting resistance from the mercenaries reported to be excavating weapons buried beneath the ruins.
Yet the resistance had already fallen. Dozens of armed men sprawled across the sand, alive but incapacitated, clutching shallow cuts and bruises. None were killed, but all were beaten with unnerving precision.
Green Lantern hovered above the site, scanning with his ring. "They're not dead. Just… neutralized. Neat work, too."
Batman crouched, examining one mercenary's clean, surgical wounds. His jaw tightened. "I know who did this."
Superman's gaze hardened, scanning the shadows. "Oblivion."
The name carried weight, even before the figure revealed himself. He stepped into the open with unhurried calm, trench coat trailing behind him, his presence commanding the night. No mask now — his face bare, his sharp features striking, unforgettable in the moment yet destined to blur in memory like a dream upon waking. Cameras would never catch him; human recollection would never quite pin him down. Only the eyes remained clear: burning with the cold finality of death, yet strangely magnetic, as though centuries of charm lingered there.
Diana caught her breath without meaning to. Those eyes carried experience — not the kind a soldier earned in decades, but something older, deeper, heavier.
"You should thank me," Oblivion said softly, his voice calm, confident, as though he were ten steps ahead of the conversation already. "These men were digging for power they could never control. I spared you the trouble."
Superman floated closer, his presence radiating warning. "You don't get to decide who lives and who dies."
Oblivion tilted his head slightly, and his faint smile made the air colder. "Strange. I seem to decide it quite well. Look around. They breathe, don't they?"
Green Lantern raised his ring, but Batman's hand shot out, holding him back. His eyes never left Oblivion. "Why leave them alive this time?"
The assassin's gaze met Batman's with quiet amusement. "Because the lesson isn't learned in death. Sometimes, fear lasts longer than mourning."
The words hung heavy in the air. Before the League could press further, Diana stepped forward.
"Say your name," she demanded, her voice steady but edged.
Oblivion's eyes turned to her, calm and piercing. "Oblivion."
A memory flickered through her mind — the archives of Themyscira, scrolls and records written by Amazons who had ventured into man's world centuries ago. They spoke of a silent figure who appeared when kingdoms rotted under their own corruption, a killer who vanished once balance was restored. He was not condemned in those texts, nor praised, only acknowledged. They called him one thing: Oblivion.
"You…" she breathed. "You are in our archives."
Superman glanced at her sharply. "What?"
Diana's eyes never left the assassin. "The Amazons know of you. Centuries ago, you walked man's world, unseen yet unforgettable. They wrote of your blade cutting away rot where rulers could not. They named you Oblivion."
The League fell silent, shock cutting through their unity. Superman frowned in disbelief, Green Lantern muttered something under his breath. Only Batman's eyes narrowed further — the look of a man piecing together a puzzle he didn't want to solve.
Oblivion did not deny it. His faint smile deepened, his eyes gleaming like amber fire. "Your sisters keep better records than most. Few remember, fewer believe. But yes — I was there."
"Then it's true," Diana said quietly. "You've walked this world for centuries."
He stepped closer, and though he did not threaten, his presence pressed down on them like a storm. His voice was steady, certain. "I walk where balance falters. That is all you need to know."
Green Lantern scoffed, though unease colored his voice. "So what are you? Immortal? Some ghost who doesn't know how to stay buried?"
Oblivion's gaze slid to him, soft yet cutting. "Labels are for your comfort. I have no use for them."
Before anyone could press further, the ground beneath them rumbled. The ruins split open, and from the depths rose a beast of stone and flame, an ancient guardian awakened by the mercenaries' intrusion. Its roar shook the desert night, its body towering above them.
The League sprang into action, Superman striking with heat vision, Green Lantern forming barriers, Wonder Woman charging with her sword. Oblivion moved among them like water, blades flashing with runes that cut through enchanted fire as though it were mist.
When Wonder Woman locked blades with the creature's claw, Oblivion was suddenly there beside her. His glowing blade slid beneath hers, severing the claw in one clean motion. Their eyes met briefly — hers filled with awe and questions, his filled with centuries of calm certainty.
"You fight like someone who's done this before," she said between strikes.
Oblivion smirked faintly, death's charm glimmering in his eyes. "Once or twice."
Together, they drove the guardian back into rubble and silence.
When the dust settled, Superman turned sharply toward Oblivion. "We're not done with you."
But Oblivion was already walking into the shadows of the ruins, his coat trailing behind him, his aura lingering like the scent of smoke after fire. He spoke without looking back.
"No. You never are."
The League watched him disappear, and for a moment none spoke.
Finally, Diana broke the silence. Her voice was quiet, almost reverent. "Themyscira's records never lied. He is not just a man of today. He has been here before… and he will be here long after us."
Batman's eyes narrowed, his tone grim. "Then the question isn't who he is. It's why he's back now."