Jason looked at Darkseid. His eyes were cold. His voice, when he spoke, was hoarse and deep, carrying the weight of everything he had endured.
"Do you know where the Empty Hand is?"
Darkseid's jaw tightened. The question. The dismissal. The way Jason treated him like a mere obstacle, an inconvenience to be brushed aside. It made him ANGRY.
His Omega Beams fired instantly, aimed directly at Jason's chest.
Jason slashed them away. One motion. Casual. Effortless. The beams that had destroyed worlds scattered into nothing, their red energy dissipating across the void like smoke in a hurricane. And then he moved.
His fist connected with Darkseid's gut. The impact sent a shockwave through the ship's surface, cracking the floor beneath them. Darkseid's breath left him in a sharp grunt.
"You have been a pest to me for a long time."
Another punch. This time to the face. Darkseid's head snapped back, his jaw cracking, a spray of black blood arcing through the air. Jason grabbed him by the back of the skull and slammed him down, through the ship's surface, through hull after hull, metal tearing and screaming around them, until they crashed into Darkseid's own command room. The impact cratered the floor, sending consoles and servants scattering.
"You sent your goons to my planet." Punch. Darkseid's ribs caved. "Hundreds of humans died because of you." Punch. His eye socket fractured. "Billions of aliens across the universe." Punch. His shoulder dislocated. "All for your desire to control all of life." Punch. His chest plate splintered. "Why?"
Jason held him by the neck, his fingers digging into the stone-like flesh, his yellow eyes flickering like lightning caught in a storm. The Frenzied Flame pulsed behind his irises, barely contained.
"This Anti-Life Equation. It brings enslavement of all existence. But what of it? What do you gain? Life is a cycle of repetitive pain and suffering. Happiness and joy. Sadness and anger. To seek to control and dictate that..." Jason's grip tightened. Darkseid's windpipe compressed. "Aren't you the worst of them all?"
Darkseid spat blood in his face. The black ichor dripped down Jason's cheek. "When did you become a philosopher?" His voice was strained, choked, but still carried that ancient arrogance. "I desire perfection. Perfection cannot coexist with free will and minds. Only one powerful, free mind is needed."
"And you think you are that mind?"
"Look at history. Wars. Crime. Betrayal. Jealousy. Greed. Every evil act comes from people making choices. Remove choice, and suffering ends." Darkseid's voice was calm, certain, even as Jason's grip threatened to crush his throat. "Under my rule, even the concept of suffering would not exist. They would serve me to death with a smile."
"Tyranny. That's it? Ruling everything as you see fit? Why?" His voice was barely a whisper, but it carried. "Someone hurt you as a kid and now you think life revolves around you?" The flames in his eyes flickered, expanded. "Wanna hear my opinion of your statement about history? About free will?"
He leaned closer. His face erupted into the Frenzied Flame. Yellow and orange, with that dark black hole at its core, the flames licking at the edges of reality itself. The heat was oppressive, suffocating, the air around them shimmering and distorting.
"Burn it all to the ground."
Lightning flames erupted around them. Bolts of yellow-orange frenzy shot from Jason's form, striking the walls, the ceiling, the floor. The command room began to melt. Consoles dissolved. Metal warped and dripped. The air became thick with smoke and the smell of burning stone.
Darkseid's eyes turned yellow. The Frenzy invaded his mind. He clutched his skull, his fingers digging into his own flesh, screaming in agony.
"AGHHHHHHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHHHH! AGHHHHHH!"
The sound echoed through the melting ship. Desaad watched from the shadows, his face pale, his hands trembling. His master was losing. His master was in pain. Impossible. Unthinkable. The impossible made real before his eyes.
Then Darkseid's eyes turned pitch black.
Not red. Not yellow. Abyss. Pure, absolute nothing. The kind of black that swallowed light, that devoured hope, that had existed before the first star was born.
"Darkness does not fear the Frenzied Flame." The voice was not Darkseid's. It was older. Deeper. Something that had existed before the first star was born and would exist after the last one died. "Lucifer's spawn. You may have beaten this avatar. But my CHILD lives. And will make you suffer." The eyes burned with ancient malice. "YOU WILL REGRET THAT YOU EVER EXISTED, BOY."
The darkness vanished.
Darkseid fell face-first to the ground, his body limp, his breathing ragged. Jason narrowed his eyes, then raised his hand. A torrent of Frenzied Flame erupted from his palm, burning a hole through Darkseid's back. The body twitched once, twice, then went still.
Jason turned to Desaad.
The servant stared at him, trembling, his mouth open, no sound emerging. Jason looked at him with disgust, then turned and walked away, leaving him to the mercy of the spreading Frenzy.
...
It took an hour.
Jason Anderson, Lord of the Frenzied Flame, King of Curses, eliminated and completely destroyed the remaining army of Darkseid. Every ship. Every Parademon and Paradoom. Every trace of the invasion force. He moved through the void like a force of nature, his flames consuming everything in their path. Ships erupted into fireballs that scattered debris across the void. Paradooms screamed as they were reduced to ash. The remnants of Darkseid's grand invasion dissolved into nothing.
On the Pantheon command center, they watched.
Diana. Batman. Zatanna. Harley. The others. They watched the footage being transmitted from the battlefield. The aftermath of a slaughter that defied comprehension. And the Jason on the screen was different. Changed. Whatever had happened to him, he was not the same man who had left.
Ruthless? No. He had always been ruthless.
Powerful? No. He had always been powerful.
Emotionless. That was new.
A heat bloomed behind them.
"Have you heard any news from an entity known as the Empty Hand?"
They turned. Jason stood there, his eyes still carrying that faint yellow glow, his expression flat, his voice flat, his presence pressing against them like a weight.
Diana was the first to speak. "Jason... you're back."
"It doesn't matter. What matters is the Empty Hand."
"What?" She took a step toward him. "Jason, what the hell happened to you? We haven't seen each other for weeks."
Zatanna's voice was careful. "I'm starting to think this isn't our Jason."
"There is only one me." His voice was cold. "I don't have time for pleasantries and talk. I need to defeat the Empty Hand as soon as I can, or the world will suffer."
Diana looked at him. At the yellow in his eyes. At the coldness in his voice. At the distance that had grown between them. She narrowed her eyes. Then she spoke.
"I'm pregnant."
The yellow in his eyes vanished. Instantly. His entire demeanor shifted. His posture relaxed. His expression softened. The tension in his shoulders drained away. He stared at her, his eyes wide, his voice suddenly human again.
"Huh? What?" A pause. "Really?"
"Yes." Diana crossed her arms. "And that proves something is absolutely wrong with you."
Jason's face broke into a grin. Wide. Genuine. Joyful. "Fuck that!" He jumped forward, his arms wrapping around her, his voice cracking with excitement. "I'm gonna be a DAD?"