fantasy
DC universe
169
The streets were silent, save for the muted hum of flickering streetlights. A cold mist coiled around the towering ruins of a battle long past, where the blood of innocents had been spilled by hands wielding extraordinary power. In the heart of this desolation stood a figure cloaked in shadow, a scythe gleaming faintly in one handβa specter, timeless and unyielding. Death had come, not with fanfare, but with purpose.
The Justice Leagueβs arrival shattered the quiet like a thunderclap. Superman descended first, his presence a beacon of moral clarity, though his face was etched with tension. Wonder Woman followed, silent and observant, the weight of a growing trust in this enigmatic figure pressing on her conscience. Batman lingered in the dark, distrust fueling his sharp gaze as he scanned the scene.
βYouβve gone too far,β Supermanβs voice rang out, firm yet conflicted, as his eyes met the hooded figureβs. βThis isnβt justice.β
Death did not turn, though their voice carried through the still airβa tone neither male nor female, resonating as if the universe itself spoke. βJustice? Justice delays the inevitable. They would have killed again. Perhaps next time, a child. A family. Another city.β The hood tilted, faintly acknowledging them. βI am here to stop the blood before it flows.β
βThey were restrained,β Batman cut in, stepping forward. βYou could have turned them in.β
Deathβs gaze finally shifted to them, though no eyes were visible beneath the hood. βPrisons are temporary. Death is not. They proved they couldnβt exist within your laws. Shall I wait until they prove me right again?β
As the League stood divided, it was Wonder Woman who broke the impasse. βAnd who decides the line between mercy and judgment?β she asked, her voice steady but searching.
βThe line decides itself,β Death answered, their tone unwavering. βAnd I merely ensure it is not crossed again.β
Justice League
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