John rushed in with the knife, wild and reckless, teeth clenched like he could bite fate in half. He aimed for the guard's face, knowing he'd never survive this but needing to leave a mark. Just one.
But Luna moved first.
While the guards watched John charge like a rabid dog, they forgot her. She slipped the metal shard from her boot and lunged low. The blade sliced across the back of the guard's leg. The tendons gave way with a wet snap.
He screamed, his knees buckling.
John didn't hesitate. He drove the knife up, under the man's chin, deep into the soft part of the throat. It sank in with a sick sound, and the guard's eyes went wide as blood flooded his mouth. He choked on it. Gurgled. Fell.
The camp commander. Dead.
Silence hit the room harder than the scream.
Then chaos.
The soldiers shouted. Rifles raised. Fingers on triggers.
John moved without thinking. He threw his arms around Luna and pressed her against the sarcophagus, using his own body as a shield. He saw the first muzzle flash and braced himself.
Bullets tore into him. First in the back. Then the side. Then more.
The pain didn't even feel real. Just pressure. Like someone pushing hard on his skin over and over.
His breath caught in his throat. Warmth flooded his chest. He held Luna tighter. She was crying, face buried against him.
Then her body jerked.
He felt her stiffen.
A small, red hole bloomed in her forehead. Just like that, she was gone.
John's mouth moved, trying to say her name, but no sound came out. His legs gave out. His body dropped with hers. They slid to the floor together.
His head hit the stone. His cheek rested against the cold, blood-slick surface of the sarcophagus. Luna's face was inches from his, her eyes glassy, her mouth slightly open.
So much blood.
His vision swam. Everything was dull, like watching the world through dirty glass.
The soldiers shouted again. One of them stepped closer to kick his body. Another leaned in, checking the pulse.
"He's still breathing."
A boot hit his ribs.
"Fucker's still alive after that? Well, not for long."
One of them pressed the rifle's muzzle to John's head.
"Don't shoot him. Let him bleed to death. Wanna bet how long he'll hold on to his pathetic life?" One of the said.
"Fuck yeah! 100 quids. 10 seconds."
"Dang! Fine. 120 quids says 15 seconds."
While they were betting...
Everything slowed.
The shouting guards blurred into shadows. John's ears rang. Tears rolled down his cheeks. He couldn't save her in the end.
His body didn't hurt anymore. Maybe because it was shutting down. Maybe because there wasn't anything left to feel. Blood pooled beneath him, soaking into the stone, mixing with Luna's.
He wanted to say her name. Just once. Just whisper it into the dark.
But nothing came out.
His lips barely moved. His chest barely rose.
Then he saw it.
Where his hand touched the sarcophagus, something glowed. Faint at first. A dull flicker, like a dying ember. Gold, with hints of black. Like lightning trapped in stone.
It pulsed once. Then again. Brighter.
The staff inside the tomb somehow appeared right before his hand.
John couldn't think. Couldn't reason. How could he? He was a few seconds away from his death. In that brief moment, he let out a blood-curdling scream as he barely touched the staff. The soldiers laughed at him while betting and having their fill of fun.
'Say my name...' A whisper came to his ears.
John tried to speak, but no word came out.
But there was no time...
One last try.
One last breath.
And with blood running down his mouth and nose, his voice barely a whisper, he said it.
"Shazam."
The chamber exploded.
Light filled every crack in the tomb. Not warm. Not gentle.
This was lightning. Judgment. Wrath.
The blast vaporized the guard standing over him.
The lightning swallowed everything. Stone cracked. Metal liquefied. The guards didn't even have the chance to scream because they were simply vaporized in an instant.
When it cleared, only dust and ashes remained where men had stood.
Time itself seemed to hold its breath. A strange, pressing silence replaced the chaos. Floating particles of golden dust hung in the air like suspended fireflies.
John lay motionless, barely alive, his body still leaking blood.
Then he heard it.
A voice.
Feminine.
"You expected salvation from the wizard? No, you are my champion."
A pulse of power surged through his veins. His back arched. Bones snapped and reformed.
"You were chosen for something older. Something the world forgot."
The blood around him dried in an instant. The wounds closed. Scars vanished. His eyes burned with gold.
"Shu grants you stamina... endless as the sky."
"Heru gives you speed... swift as the falcon's dive."
"Amon lends you strength... rivaling the storm itself."
"Zehuti offers you wisdom... ancient, clear, absolute."
"Aton channels power... the sun's fury made flesh."
"Mehen wraps you in courage... the serpent's protection."
John gasped as the words echoed in his skull, each one crashing through his body like thunder. His chest heaved. Air surged into his lungs like he was breathing for the first time.
The ground beneath him cracked. Gold light shot from his eyes, arcing upward like a signal to something beyond the veil of this world.
His spine straightened. His muscles expanded. Tendons thickened. Bones hardened. The wiry frame that had once belonged to a desperate man was replaced by his full potential form.
Black armor erupted over his skin, forged by unseen hands, forming around him as if nanites were swarming over his body to form the armor. The symbol of the lightning bolt burned across his chest, pulsing like a second heart.
John stood tall, taller than he'd ever been, every fiber of his body alive with power. His full evolved form made him look like a 25-year-old man. But his eyes, burning gold a second ago, dimmed when they found her.
Luna.
Still.
Her body lay exactly where it had fallen. Face relaxed. Eyes closed now. The red hole in her forehead was small, precise, unfair. Her hands were still curled like she'd been reaching for him when it happened.
John dropped to his knees. He failed to protect her.
He reached for her, and his fingers trembled. Even though he got new power now, it wasn't enough to fix this. Lightning couldn't reverse a bullet or bring her back to life.
"Luna…"
He cradled her head gently, brushing her hair back. It felt wrong that she looked peaceful. She was never quiet. She always had something to say, something to fight about, some plan brewing in her sharp mind.
He'd seen her bleed before. He'd seen her fight through pain, outwit enemies twice as clever, and stand tall when others broke. She didn't die.
She wasn't supposed to die.
"No..."
John stood up with her in his arms. He won't let her go this easily. She dreamt of freedom and just when he gain the power to do that, she wasn't there anymore.
"You are not allowed to die just like this..."
John knew about the DC universe. He had read comics and seen movies. So, he knew exactly where he needed to go to bring her back to life.
The League of Assassins...
...Lazarus Pit.
John blasted through the stone ceiling like a cannon, the debris turning to dust around him. The lightning bolt on his chest flared bright as he shot into the night sky, Luna cradled in his arms. Her body was still warm. He didn't have much time.
He tore through the air over Kahndaq, headed straight for the outpost tower. The guards never stood a chance. He hit the ground like a missile, the shockwave flattening walls and bodies alike. One raised his rifle, but John was already in front of him. A blur. A punch. The man folded in half and crashed into the far wall.
"DON'T GET IN MY WAY!" He yelled in anger as lightning bolts erupted from his body, killing everyone around him.
In seconds, it was over.
He stepped over the bodies without slowing down. He punched through the metal door of the broadcast room and ripped it out like a piece of paper. Inside, blinking monitors and equipment lined the walls. A guard tried to draw his sidearm. John didn't even look. He moved once and grabbed the guard's throat and snapped his neck.
He snatched a phone from the dead man's pocket, opened the map, and typed it in: Gotham.
"Found it."
John kicked open the window and flew out, the phone clutched in one hand, Luna in the other. The wind howled past his ears as the city lights blurred beneath him. He followed the coast, soaring faster than any jet, leaving a trail of gold lightning behind him that lit up the night sky.
Gotham appeared on the horizon like a bruise on the world. Clouded. Gritty. Choked in fog and shadows.
Perfect.
He needed Batman.
If anyone knew how to find the League of Assassins and the Lazarus Pit, it was him.
John found the Wayne Tower and didn't waste time with doors. He simply flew around and spotted Bruce by luck. He was still in his office that night.
He flew straight in, shattering through the glass wall of Bruce Wayne's office in a blast of shards and wind. The billionaire barely had time to turn before John landed hard, the floor cracking beneath his boots.
Bruce was there, still in his suit, tie loosened, eyes narrowing as the dust settled.
John didn't speak at first. He held Luna in his arms, soaked in blood.
Bruce stepped forward, unfazed. "Who are you?"
"I need the Lazarus Pit."
John pointed his finger at Bruce.
"Give me the location of the League of Assassins."
Bruce's jaw tightened. "Put her down."
"I'm not here to fight you," John said, voice raw. "She's dead. I have the power to fly across the world, burn through armies, survive bullets... and I can't even save her. She saved my life, yet I failed her. But you can help me."
Bruce didn't move. Didn't blink. Just stared.
"You know where it is," John said. "You know how to get in. You know Ra's."
"I also know the Pit doesn't bring people back the same."
"I'll take that risk," John said. "For her, I'll risk anything."
A long pause. Then Bruce looked at Luna, at the small hole in her forehead, and the blood dried on her skin.
Finally, he nodded. "You've got one shot."
He stepped to a panel on the wall, entered a sequence.
Coordinates lit up on a nearby screen.
"Nanda Parbat," Bruce said as he took out a GPS device and gave it to him. "Take this. Follow the signal. That's all I can do."
John didn't say thank you. He didn't have time for gratitude.
He just turned, cradled Luna closer, and shot back into the night... glass swirling in the air behind him.
'Another superhuman. Need to create countermeasures,' Bruce thought with a grim expression.
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AN: I decided to go with Black Adam's power. But wait a sec... What if he gains the Wizard's power too? Will that make him stronger than Superman?
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