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Zatanna stood behind the one-way glass, arms crossed, staring at the man on the other side.
"Andrew Sullivan, convicted serial killer, set to be executed tomorrow," she read aloud.
Jason stood beside her, eyes locked on the inmate. "Alright. Let's start."
A mechanical box rose smoothly from the floor in front of the prisoner. Inside it rested a single ring.
"Inmate," Zatanna spoke clearly through the intercom, "you may wear that ring."
The man stared at the ring with wide, trembling eyes. His voice cracked as he asked, "I… I wear this once, and my sentence gets reduced… r-right?"
"Yes," Zatanna replied calmly. "Now wear the ring."
With shaking fingers, the inmate reached out and slowly slid the ring onto his finger.
For a brief second, his face lit up with manic hope.
"I… I did it! I've done it!! Does that mean—"
His words cut off into a blood-curdling scream.
"AGHHHHHH!"
He dropped to his knees, clutching his head as his mind began to collapse under the overwhelming flood of emotions. Tears streamed down his face.
"STOP IT! PLEASE!"
From the ring, a massive construct sword materialized in the air above him. It fell like an executioner's blade, slicing clean through his body and splitting him in half. Blood exploded outward, splattering violently across the walls and the observation glass.
Jason let out a long sigh.
"Well… that went well."
Zatanna shook her head, clearly frustrated.
"That's the seventh one today…"
Raven, who had been quietly taking notes in the corner, finally spoke up.
"It was expected. The emotions required to control the ring corrupt their minds before they can stabilize it."
"Damn," Jason muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is an issue."
Zatanna shrugged. "Hey, you and Raven were able to control it. So was Harley. And although we haven't tested it yet, Kara should be able to handle it too."
"I know that," Jason replied, "but I can't exactly sit down and personally train an entire army to use cursed energy just so they can control these rings."
He exhaled sharply.
"My dream of a Cursed Lantern Corps is dead!"
"I can train them…" Raven said softly from behind him.
Jason turned to her, surprised. "What?"
"Just like you taught me… I think I can train some elites. Twenty pupils or so."
Jason blinked. "You'd do that?"
"If you want…" she answered quietly.
"Hmm… Well, I hadn't actually considered that," Jason admitted. "I just thought, I don't know… you're not exactly the talkative type."
"She doesn't have to be," Zatanna cut in. "Teachers aren't all magically social people."
Jason stared at Raven for a moment, then gave a small nod.
"Well… that's that then. Now we just need to find an elite group so we can create the first batch of Cursed Lanterns!"
As he turned to leave the room, Zatanna called after him.
"Can we talk about the name?"
Jason didn't even slow down.
"NOPE!"
...
"Hell… ruled by a mere human. Isn't that something?"
The voice rolled through the void like thunder dragged across broken stone. Deep. Heavy. Not spoken so much as imposed upon reality itself.
A second presence answered it almost immediately, darker still, shaped like grief given intelligence.
"My plan was ruined because of him."
Silence followed for a moment, as if even the surrounding darkness hesitated to react.
Then a third voice emerged, softer in tone, yet infinitely more unsettling.
"Hmmm… I wouldn't think so."
The space between dimensions bent slightly as the speaker continued.
"Darkseid is doing his thing. You are doing yours. I feel like I should do something."
The first voice did not respond right away. It simply lingered, amused.
The second presence shifted, and though it had no true face, no form that mortal perception could anchor onto, something like disbelief rippled through it.
"You… you never do anything."
A faint pause.
Then, a quiet laughter that sounded like the cracking of existence itself.
"Naturally, of course," the man replied. "Why do anything when everything eventually returns to me anyway?"
The amusement in his tone deepened.
"But… he allowed his son to play with existence."
A subtle shift in pressure followed those words, as if reality itself leaned closer.
"So I suppose… I will allow myself the same courtesy."
A low, almost delighted chuckle escaped him.
"The Beyonder human. Ha. I like that. What a puzzling existence. From a world even beyond ours."
The second voice, the one that carried shape without form, finally responded again.
"So… I should do something as well."
Now there was hesitation in the void.
The first presence turned its attention slightly, as if amused by the idea of interaction itself.
"What do you think, Perpetua? Should I have some fun?"
At the mention of her name, the formless entity tightened, as though instinctively aware of the danger embedded in the conversation.
Perpetua.
A being who had seen the collapse of multiverses. A sculptor of doomed realities. A force that once believed herself beyond fear.
Yet even she felt it now.
A presence that sat above her perception, not merely powerful, but fundamental. Fifth-dimensional at minimum. Something that did not belong in the hierarchy she understood.
Something that, when observed directly, felt uncomfortably close to the idea of the Presence itself.
She answered carefully.
"It matters not… just do not ruin my plans."
A soft sound escaped him. Almost disappointed.
"Oh please," he said lightly. "When have I ever made a mistake?"
Perpetua's attention sharpened.
"You are a disturbing existence."
There was no insult in her tone.
Only recognition.
The entity she spoke to was known across forbidden records, across erased cosmologies, across realities that were never meant to remember anything at all.
The Empty Hand.
The sentient will of the Great Darkness made thought.
He tilted his attention slightly, as if considering her words with genuine curiosity.
For beings like them, fear was rare.
But Perpetua felt it anyway.
Not fear of destruction.
Fear of imbalance.
Because when something like the Empty Hand moved, it did not break rules.
It rewrote the reason rules existed.
He exhaled slowly, as if finally deciding something.
"Well then…" he murmured. "Let us see."
A pause.
Then, almost cheerfully.
"Oh. I have it."
The void fractured.
A portal opened not into space, not into reality, but into something older than both. A forgotten universe, sealed away like a wound that never healed. Within it, something moved.
Something that should not have been remembered.
A hand reached inside.
And pulled.
Space screamed as a being was dragged across thresholds it was never meant to cross. Its form was incomplete to perception, as if existence itself rejected giving it a stable shape.
The Empty Hand regarded it casually, like an artist selecting a tool.
"Go," he said softly. "Hunt."
A pause.
Then, almost kindly.
"Enjoy."
The entity vanished from his grasp, flung into existence like a dropped blade falling toward a world that had no idea it was already being targeted.
/*\
If you Like this story! Check out my other story ! Shadow Monarch in Danmachi!
AND
If you wish to read more or simply support me just because ? than check out my patréon at
"https://www.patréon.com/Riadooo"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want !