Chapter 16
"Sometimes justice doesn't wear a cape. Sometimes it bleeds."
For the first time in years, Gotham was silent.
No gunshots in the alleyways.
No screams echoing in the dark.
No crimes.
No corpses.
No chaos.
The city didn't know what to do with peace. It felt unnatural—like holding your breath for too long. The streets buzzed, but the air was different. Calmer. Watchful.
And above it all, running like a shadow across the rooftops—he chased.
Matthew—the Raven of Death.
He was moving fast, almost feral in his pursuit. His boots slammed against wet concrete as he chased a man who wore a thousand faces in Gotham's underworld.
This man wasn't a killer in the way most criminals were.
No. He was worse.
He sold people.
Innocents.
Dreamers who came from faraway lands seeking a new life. Young women promised modeling contracts. Aspiring actors lured into casting rooms that turned into cages. Children—boys and girls—taken right off playgrounds and never seen again.
To him, they were numbers. Stock. Flesh to be tagged and sold.
And tonight?
Tonight, the devil wanted him back.
He leapt from one rooftop to another, breath ragged, sweat pouring down his face. He'd outrun the cops before. Bribed them. Killed some. Escaped every trap, every raid.
But tonight wasn't the law.
Tonight was judgment.
Behind him, the sound of boots.
Faster.
Harder.
Unstoppable.
Then suddenly—he was caught. Lifted like a ragdoll, hand clutched around his throat.
The Raven held him high above the edge of the rooftop. The city stared from below. Far beneath them, traffic moved and headlights shimmered. A single drop would end it all.
The man screamed. "Please! PLEASE! I SWEAR—I'LL STOP! This was the last time! Just one more job, I swear!"
Matthew didn't blink.
Didn't flinch.
Just stared.
"Twenty-two men."
The trafficker froze.
"Thirty-six women."
Tears welled up.
"Fifty-seven children."
The words weren't shouted. They were recited. Like scripture. Like a eulogy.
"That's how many lives you sold into hell. I remember them all. I heard their cries. Every scream. Every night they wept, praying someone like me would come."
He leaned in.
"I'm here."
The man thrashed. "I'm sorry! PLEASE! I'll change! I'll—"
But the Raven's grip didn't loosen.
"Say hi to the Devil for me."
Matthew opened his hand.
And let go.
The man start falling to his death screaming out loud
But he never hit the ground.
A flash of red.
A streak of blue.
He was caught mid-fall—saved. Held in strong arms like a broken child. Lifted gently back to the rooftop.
He put the man down near Mathew and he kept
Floating through the night, calm as a breeze, came a voice:
"Son… you should stop."
Matthew didn't need to look.
He already knew.
The Man of Steel stood before him. Cape flowing. Eyes soft but firm.
Superman.
Behind Matthew, the air shifted. Two more shadows arrived in silence.
Batman.
And Robin.
The Trinity stood complete.
Matthew sighed. Slow. Tired.
"Why should I?" he asked without turning.
He wore black. Always black. A hoodie soaked from rain. A mask homemade, stitched from scraps. Nothing heroic. Nothing neat.
Just vengeance in cloth.
Superman spoke, gentle but unwavering.
"Because life matters. Even theirs."
Matthew turned, finally meeting his gaze.
"If I kill him, another will take his place." Superman continued. "Then another. And another. It never stops."
Batman didn't speak. But he didn't have to.
He'd seen it firsthand. Put villains in Arkham, watched the system spin them out like clockwork. Sometimes worse ones rose in their place. Brutal. More twisted.
It was a carousel of madness.
But that wasn't enough for Matthew.
He stared at Superman with that same eerie calm.
"So what? I put him in jail?" he asked, stepping forward.
"You know what happens then. Either someone replaces him… or he gets out. Does it again. Over. And over. Like you said."
His voice darkened.
"So the answer's simple."
He smiled softly and grabbed the man by the neck then looked Superman dead in the eye.
"Kill them all."
And without warning—he opened his hand again.
The man fell.
But again, Superman caught him.
Flew up.
Landed on the rooftop.
Alive.
Broken—but alive.
Matthew didn't flinch.
Didn't rage.
He simply looked at Superman.
Too calm.
Too still.
Superman narrowed his eyes. Something was wrong.
And then…
He saw it.
Through the mask.
Through the shadows.
He used his enhanced vision—peered beyond the cloth.
And there it was.
That smile.
It wasn't human.
It wasn't cruel.
It wasn't monstrous.
It was… empty.
A smile that didn't belong to life or death.
Just to silence.
And in that second—Superman's skin crawled. Just a ripple. A subtle chill.
But it was enough.
He'd fought gods. Faced monsters made of fire, ice, time, rage. Never flinched.
But this?
This young man, 25 years old, standing in the rain with that smile?
He felt it.
Fear.
A whisper of it.
From a mortal.
And then… the trafficker started to convulse.
In Superman's arms, the man twitched violently. Blood ran from his eyes. His mouth opened, and he bit down on his own tongue, frothing. His body twisted like a dying animal.
Then… he stilled.
Dead.
Superman knelt, checking his pulse. His eyes widened.
No heartbeat.
He looked up sharply.
"You…"
Matthew tilted his head. Almost amused.
"Poison," he said softly. "Sure. Why not?"
Superman stood.
Batman stepped forward.
"What did you do?"
Matthew looked at him.
"Something you wouldn't."
Robin stared, unsure whether to be horrified or impressed.
Matthew turned.
"You want to stop me?" he asked, arms open. "Go ahead. But make sure you visit the families of every girl he sold first. Explain to them why you let him live. See if they'll forgive you."
Nobody answered.
Just the rain.
Matthew stepped backward slowly, then turned, vanishing into the shadows. No fight. No words.
Just silence.
Superman remained on the roof, still holding the dead man's body. His fingers trembled. Just a little.
Batman stared into the night, saying nothing.
Robin looked between them, unsure what justice meant anymore.
---
Below them, Gotham held its breath again.
Not in fear.
But in awe.
Because somewhere in the dark, the Raven flew.
And the silence?
It meant he was watching.
---
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