Above the clouds rose a monumental fortress, a colossal structure of stone and gold suspended in the heavens. It stood like a surviving echo of an ancient age, majestic and breathtaking — the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.
The floating citadel gleamed under the sunlight like a reborn myth. Sharp towers pierced the sky, suspended corridors twisted like serpents, and waterfalls cascaded into the open air, dissipating into shimmering dust before reaching the ground.
At the heart of that fortress stood a throne.
And upon it — seated as if the entire world had been built solely to uphold him — was Arthur.
His relaxed posture radiated a confidence so absolute it bordered on insolence. His bearing was regal, predatory, irresistibly dangerous. His blonde, short, unruly hair seemed to reflect the citadel's golden light. His eyes, once warm, now glowed with a deep, luminous red — devoid of kindness, filled only with coldness.
The contrast between his dark skin and the crimson markings streaking across his torso made him even more intimidating.
His bare chest revealed a sculpted abdomen, broad shoulders, and muscles carved like a divine weapon. Over him rested an ornate golden breastplate — heavy, beautiful, symbolic, and threatening. His dark vest with black fur lining gave him the silhouette of a sleeping predator — elegant, yet ready to kill.
Bracelets, gilded plates, and semi-ritualistic armor pieces completed the figure.
A war king.
A monarch forged for destruction.
The silence of the fortress was broken by metallic footsteps echoing through the hall.
Arthur raised his eyes.
A knight approached, clad in black armor with crimson details covering her athletic frame. Her aura was wild, untamed.
It was Mordred.
"My king," she said, kneeling, bowing her head in absolute respect.
Arthur tilted his head, assessing her.
"Did you find their base, Mordred?"
She lowered her gaze even further, ashamed.
"Not yet, my king. Please… punish me."
Arthur gave a faint smile — cold and razor-sharp.
"Not necessary. They'll reveal themselves at the right moment."
"Then," he continued, resting his chin on his hand, "what news do you bring me?"
Mordred took a deep breath.
"Darkseid sent a messenger. He wants… to negotiate a deal with us. He even had the audacity to say that if you accepted serving him, he would 'allow' you to rule Earth in his name. My father has already gone to hear his proposal."
Arthur chuckled under his breath.
"Interesting…" His red eyes gleamed with malice.
"Let's go meet him."
He rose from the throne in one fluid motion.
"Yes, my king." Mordred stood and followed him obediently, almost eager for the bloodshed she knew was coming.
---xXx---
Where towering gothic buildings once stood, there was now only sand, debris, and silence.
The former Gotham City had become an open grave — a monument to the massacre Darkseid brought upon Earth.
From the sky, dozens of Apokoliptian ships hovered like metallic vultures circling the ruins.
Atop the main ship, Darkseid watched everything with absolute disdain, his hands clasped behind his back. Behind him, motionless as statues, stood DeSaad, Steppenwolf, and Granny Goodness.
Waiting for him on the desert floor were two figures clad in black armor.
The leader was Artoria — her presence as sharp and relentless as her blade.
She stepped forward.
"Darkseid, it seems you still fail to comprehend our strength to the point of daring to make my king one of your servants."
Her voice was pure ice.
"Why waste words on this worm?!"
Kara shot forward in a golden blur, eyes blazing with fury.
"Let's wipe them out NOW!"
"No."
Artoria's gaze cut Kara down like a beheading.
"Do not forget — we act only under orders. Our king will arrive soon."
Kara clenched her teeth but stepped back. The murderous intent in her eyes, however, remained vivid.
Darkseid observed them all as if watching ants argue in the palm of his hand.
A sudden stillness swept across the desert.
Arthur walked forward, Mordred following behind him.
Mordred stood beside Artoria and Kara like a sentinel smelling blood.
Arthur's eyes met Darkseid's.
He remembered everything that had happened in the last two years.
He remembered the Anti-Life Equation.
He remembered being controlled.
He remembered killing his own friends… his family… his daughter… with his own hands.
A silent hatred burned within him — not explosive, but glacial, deep, eternal.
He stepped forward.
"Darkseid… You invaded Earth. Turned it into this pathetic wasteland. And you forced me, through that damned Anti-Life Equation, to commit acts so vile I feel sick just remembering them."
Arthur's smile widened — cold, lethal.
"So tell me… what kind of gift do you think I should give you in return?"
He spread his arms.
Behind him, in the sky, hundreds of thousands of golden portals opened.
They multiplied like constellations, forming an infinite sea of golden light.
"Since you enjoy massacres…"
His smile twisted into something feral.
"Allow me to inaugurate a new festival."
"Let the Festival of Slaughter begin."
---xXx---
The battle left no room for hesitation; the moment Arthur spoke, Artoria, Kara, and Mordred charged at Darkseid's army.
"I gave you a choice," Darkseid declared. "Submit to me or… die."
As soon as he finished speaking, his eyes shimmered in a deep crimson — then ignited like twin beacons of pure destruction. Omega Beams burst forth like flaming serpents, curving impossibly through the air toward Arthur at devastating speed.
Arthur simply lifted his hand.
No rush.
No fear.
Not even a blink.
The crimson flash struck his open palm with an impact that should have torn his body apart. But… nothing. No burns. No marks. Not even a scratch. Only the unsettling silence of the impossible becoming real.
Darkseid hesitated — for a microsecond, yet enough to reveal his shock. Immediately after, shock turned into rage. A primordial, savage, boundless rage.
"AAAH!!" he roared, propelling his colossal body forward with absurd speed for his size. He aimed to crush Arthur with his bare hands — as if doing so would erase the humiliation he'd suffered.
But before his fist could slice the air, a metallic sound echoed — CHAK—CHAK—CHAK — as celestial chains erupted from countless portals like golden serpents.
In an instant, they coiled around Darkseid's body. Shoulders, chest, legs, wrists, throat — everything was bound by a force no god should break. The fist meant to strike Arthur froze midair, exactly three inches from his nose.
Trapped. Immobile. Pathetically powerless.
"What is this?!" Darkseid roared, disbelief twisting his voice. He tried to move, but the chains tightened, forcing him to confront his own helplessness. For the first time in ages, Darkseid felt something he despised acknowledging:
Weakness.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk…" Arthur murmured, tilting his head slightly, observing the tyrant like one examines a wounded beast. "Look at you. What a pathetic sight."
A half-smile — not amused, but dripping with disdain — crossed his lips.
"Weak and defenseless. Like a lamb waiting for slaughter."
Ignoring Darkseid's growls, Arthur turned toward the battlefield, now a blazing inferno of carnage. As expected, Artoria, Kara, and Mordred were turning Apokolips' army into dust.
"Heh… how about watching your entire army get wiped from existence?"
Arthur closed his hand and struck Darkseid across the face.
The blow snapped the tyrant's head to the side, forcing him to watch the carnage unfold.
---
On another front, Artoria advanced like a divine storm, her spear cutting down countless Parademons with each strike. Granny Goodness — hardened by millennia of cruelty — didn't last more than a single exchange against the sovereign. She was obliterated alongside hundreds of her servants.
DeSaad desperately tried to coordinate the remaining forces from the safety of the mothership. His hands flew over the control panels in panic. But it didn't save him. Kara tore through the ship's hull like a living missile, and before he could even scream, he was gone — crushed in a single strike.
Mordred was pure, unbridled fury. She brought Steppenwolf down with brutal efficiency, pinning him beneath her boot. Clarent glowed with intense crimson energy before piercing his armor and driving through his heart. Steppenwolf died without uttering a final word.
When Darkseid saw this, his already grotesque face contorted even further.
He had lost everything. His generals. His strategists. His monsters.
The last remnants of his elite forces from the previous invasion… now erased before his eyes.
And his fury burned like a dying sun.
"Surprised?" Arthur asked, approaching him again. "You want to know something, Darkseid?"
He inhaled deeply, and his expression shifted — no longer mocking, but weighed with something far darker.
"Every night," Arthur began, his voice lower, "I relive the memories of you forcing me to watch as my body… tore apart Selina, Gwen, Jean, Jeanne, Dinah, Raven… and my daughter…"
His voice faltered — only for the briefest instant, but filled with inhuman pain.
"…those memories haunt me. They consume me. And every time they return, another piece of me dies with them."
Arthur's eyes darkened, like coal on the verge of turning to ash.
"You destroyed my life, my family, my friends, and my planet. And I swore you would pay for every bit of it. Don't think — not even for a second — that your death will be quick. Or painless."
Darkseid stared at Arthur, and for the first time, he felt true fear.
The kind no being calling itself a god should ever feel.
Arthur approached his face, whispering:
"I'm going to enjoy spending my time torturing you in the worst ways imaginable…"
The aura around him trembled — heavy, suffocating.
"…and I'll make sure you feel every microsecond."
---
(End of Chapter)
A/N: The next extra chapter will contain something very unexpected, but it may take a little while to release. Stay tuned.
Arthur's appearance -