Check out my new (Ben 10 x Percy Jackson) story, Anodite Mage on my Webnovel page.
[email protected]/Saintbarbido for advance chapters.
(General P.O.V)
Damian ran.
No theatrics. No stealth. Just speed—raw and unrelenting.
His boots hit stone like war drums. The tunnel walls blurred to gray. Veins of red Ashura energy flared across his legs, pouring power into his muscles until his form was a blur. The low thrum of his tattoos vibrated with each stride, echoing his pulse—fast, furious, frantic.
"Come on," he muttered to himself, teeth clenched. "Gotta hurry up."
His mind was chaos. Not the kind you ignore. The kind that coils in your chest and makes breathing feel like a mistake.
Richard Dragon.
Richard freaking Dragon.
Batman's words kept ringing in his skull like a broken fire alarm. It was Richard. He led us there.
Damian had wanted to deny it. Still wanted to. But that look on Batman's face—that grim certainty—he hadn't been lying.
And now, Jason and Cass were down there. Alone. With him.
Damian pushed harder. The air screamed as he tore through it. A swarm of bats fled the tunnel ahead, startled into flight by the sheer violence of his speed. He didn't slow. He didn't flinch. He ran through them like a storm.
Far behind him, back in the shadow-choked passageways of Arkham, Batman crouched over Nightwing. Blood was seeping into his uniform, but his breathing was steady.
"Go," Nightwing rasped, one hand gripping Batman's wrist. "Forget me. Stop the League's plans and put an end to this."
Batman hesitated. Only for a second.
Then he stood and sprinted into the darkness.
In the cave, the mood was very different.
Stillness. But not peace.
Cassandra stood between Richard and Jason's slumped body. Her breathing came in sharp, ragged bursts. One arm hung limp at her side, the sleeve soaked in blood. Her eyes, however, remained locked forward—sharp and unbroken.
Richard stood across from her, calm as ever. Not a scratch on him. His hands were behind his back, his head tilted slightly, like a disappointed teacher.
He glanced at Jason, then back to her. "Do you really think you can protect him... and still win?"
Cassandra didn't answer.
Instead, she raised her sword and tapped into a deeper layer of herself—one few ever saw. A subtle click echoed through the cave. The blade surged with white light, pulsing and dangerous, as if it had come alive. It wasn't just infused with Chi—it was Chi now. Sharp, refined, deadly.
Richard raised his eyebrows. "Impressive. Your mother would be proud."
Cassandra vanished.
A single Phantom Step. Then dozens.
To the average eye, she exploded into hundreds of afterimages, attacking from every possible angle. Chi slashes rained in like a hurricane of blades, illuminating the darkness with streaks of white fire.
The cave filled with dust and slicing air.
Jason groaned, barely conscious, as Cassandra emerged on the other side of the room, cradling him under her good arm. She dragged him toward the cave entrance, never taking her eyes off the shifting cloud of smoke.
She knew it wasn't over. Not even close.
A sudden gust rolled outward, clearing the haze.
Richard stood where he'd always been.
Unharmed.
His hand held a glowing sphere—white and pulsing.
Cassandra froze. Her eyes widened.
It was her Chi.
He wasn't just fast enough to dodge the slashes nor had he simply blocked her. He had taken it. Her attacks. Her Chi.
Richard let the energy ball hover over his palm, spinning gently. "Like I said," he said calmly. "You're good. But I'm perfect. And don't just take my word for it. I'll show you."
Then, slowly, deliberately, he clenched his fist—and absorbed it.
Cassandra staggered back.
But it didn't stop there.
The air itself shimmered. Streams of green light—like smoke trails of magic—rose from the Lazarus Pit and slithered toward him. They circled his form, pouring into his skin, into his muscles, into his core.
Richard's body began to glow, veins lit from within by the fusion of Lazarus energy and Chi.
The air turned heavy. Wrong.
Cassandra's fingers tightened around her sword.
She'd fought monsters before. Even a Serpent God and won.
But this? This was different.
This was a dangerous man becoming something else entirely.
And she had no idea how much longer she could keep standing.
-0-
The tremors started small—barely-there pulses beneath Damian's feet.
Then came the sound.
A faint roar that rolled through the tunnel like a living thing. No wind. Just pressure and heat. Then light—bright and green—spilled from up ahead, flickering with unnatural rhythm. Damian narrowed his eyes, sensing more than he could see.
There was Chi.
Cassandra's, unmistakable. Sharp. Focused.
And something else.
Damian's steps didn't slow. He pushed more Ashura into his legs, tattoos lighting up as he blitzed forward. Faster. The ground blurred. The walls pulsed.
The closer he got, the more wrong it felt.
A second presence.
No, not just a presence—an aura so dense it warped the air itself. Familiar in signature, monstrous in weight.
Richard.
Damian exploded into the open cavern like a missile, his tattoos reshaping mid-motion into twin curved daggers that pulsed with red veins of power.
He arrived just in time to see Cassandra charging forward, bloodied but unbroken, her remaining strength funneled into a final, desperate attack.
A roar tore from her throat as she thrust her hands forward, releasing a spiraling beam of white Chi.
It wasn't just an attack. It formed something.
A dragon.
Long, serpentine, eastern in style. Gleaming white, pure and wild, its jaws opened wide in mid-flight as it hurtled toward Richard Dragon.
Damian skidded to a stop, eyes locked on the scene. "Cassandra—!"
Too late.
The dragon hit—
And didn't.
Richard didn't move.
Instead, he caught it.
The massive beam stopped inches before him, coiling like a confused snake, its energy rippling in resistance. Then, impossibly, it began to shift color. From white to green. The scales turned darker. The light, sinister. Controlled.
Richard smirked as he twisted his hands, dominating the raw Chi and reshaping it.
Damian's heart skipped.
He had taken control of Cassandra's dragon.
"Impossible—!"
The corrupted dragon reared back and shot straight toward Cassandra and the barely-conscious Jason.
Without thinking, Damian moved.
Phantom Step.
He was a blur—then a wall.
He landed between them just as the dragon closed in.
Twin blades arced forward, slashing in an X.
The dragon split down the middle, the energy cracking like glass, veering off and detonating into the sides of the cave. Explosions rocked the chamber, showering everyone in dust and falling stone. Chunks of rock crashed around them. A portion of the ceiling cracked wide open.
Silence followed.
Then the dust began to clear.
Damian stood tall, his breath steady. His daggers hissed with Ashura energy, red vapor curling from the metal like steam off molten steel.
Jason groaned behind him. Cassandra steadied herself, watching Damian's back.
Across the chamber, Richard Dragon smiled. Still relaxed. Still glowing. Still impossibly calm.
Their eyes met.
"Took you long enough," Richard said, folding his arms behind his back again like a man waiting for class to start.
Damian raised one blade, pointing it straight at him. "Before I kick your ass all the way back to whatever pit you crawled out of," he said, voice low, "tell me something."
Richard tilted his head, amused.
"This whole thing," Damian continued, "the Court, the intel, Arkham... it was all a play, right? Just to get your hands on the Pit."
Richard's smirk deepened. "Correct."
And with that, the final cards hit the table and Damian's battlelust replaced all other emotions.
Before he could move, Cassandra's voice reached him.
"Be careful."
He didn't look back, but his feet paused mid-step. Richard stood across the cavern, waiting, a quiet storm wrapped in calm, glowing threads of green drifting off him like smoke. The once-vibrant Lazarus Pit behind him was now still, dull. Depleted. Drained.
Cassandra continued, breathing heavily. "He can steal Chi… and use it."
Still watching Richard, Damian asked, low but clear, "You alright?"
There was a beat.
Then, a slight intake of breath behind him. A whisper of surprise.
"…Yeah," Cassandra said, trying for a smile that didn't quite land. Her left arm hung useless at her side, shoulder bruised and fingers trembling, but her voice stayed strong. "Don't worry about us. I'll keep Jason safe. Just focus."
He nodded once. "I will."
And then he walked forward.
The ground crunched under his feet, scorched black by the Ashura energy pouring off of him in waves. His body temperature spiked. His tattoos burned hot beneath his skin, lines crawling and shifting like molten veins. The red horn on his forehead pulsed violently, syncing with his heartbeat and sharpening his senses to the microscopic.
Everything slowed.
Every breath Richard took. Every flicker of green in his iris. Every particle of dust dancing in the air. Damian saw it all.
He studied his opponent.
Richard wasn't just strong. He was composed. The sheer amount of energy flowing through him—natural Chi, stolen Chi, the Lazarus Pit's corrupted essence—should've torn any normal man apart. But in him? It flowed clean, stable. Coiled. Like it belonged.
Perfect. Always so perfect.
Damian tightened his grip on his daggers, now radiating red fire, molten edges sizzling like they were alive.
"I'm going to end this," Damian said, "in a split second."
And then everything shattered.
Pain.
Blinding.
He didn't see the strike. Just felt it. A fist to the gut, faster than thought. It felt like his organs had liquified. A violent spray of saliva and bile shot from his mouth as his body folded over Richard's knuckles.
Then the ground caught him.
Damian collapsed in a heap, his fingers twitching, muscles locking. The cavern spun. Blood filled his mouth. His limbs refused to respond.
What… just happened?
He lifted his head, barely.
Richard hadn't moved.
No—he had. With an absurd speed that outperformed Phantom Step, he was already there. Standing calmly, hand lowered, expression unreadable. Then his face shifted. The smile faded. His eyes—now stripped of their warmth—locked onto Damian's.
"I'm disappointed," Richard said, voice like ice. "Ah, Ashura… I was really looking forward to this."
He crouched slightly, not out of fatigue—but pity.
"If this is all your power amounts to, then you should've accepted my offer. I would've made you a god."
Damian coughed. Blood dripped from his lips. He tried to push himself up.
"But now," Richard continued, "I'll have to shatter you."
"NO!" Cassandra screamed.
Richard moved in a blur and slammed his boot into Damian's skull.
A sickening CRACK echoed through the chamber as Damian's body shot across the cave like a broken ragdoll, smashing into the stone wall hard enough to leave a dent. His neck twisted at an unnatural angle.
Everything went dim.
His thoughts scattered. Numbness bloomed. His body refused to obey.
From the edge of his fading vision, he saw Richard reach out. Grab Cassandra by the throat. Lift her off the ground like she weighed nothing.
Her feet kicked.
Then came the glow.
White Chi, ripping free from her body like steam torn from flesh, siphoned into Richard's hands. She writhed. Clawed. Screamed. But she couldn't break free.
And as darkness pulled Damian under, the last thing he saw was her eyes—wide with pain—begging him to do something. To save her...
Then nothing.