The world stood still.
Across every city, every channel, every screen, the footage looped endlessly, grainy yet clear enough to strike awe into the hearts of billions. A black-armored knight, emerging from shadow like a silent executioner, had brought down Doomsday, the unstoppable monster that had nearly ended a city and their protectors with swift, merciless slashes. He had come like a myth, slain a godlike terror, and vanished without a word.
The world's greatest defenders, the Justice League, had fallen to their knees. And when all hope seemed lost… he appeared.
A dark knight. A ghost. A mystery.
No one knew his name.
No one knew where he came from.
And worst of all, no one knew where he went.
In newsrooms and media outlets around the globe, the same questions were asked over and over again.
"Who was the black knight?"
"Where did he come from?"
"Why did he disappear?"
On-screen analysts speculated endlessly, some calling it a deliberate intervention—a powerful being who stepped in only after witnessing the League's failure. Others theorized he was a collector of monsters, that perhaps the monster was a creation gone rogue and this was merely the "cleanup." Another group posited that the knight bore a personal grudge, a vendetta against the beast, and left as soon as vengeance was served.
Theories flooded the internet. Artists reimagined the knight in stylized fanart. Conspiracy channels declared this the start of a new age—some even whispering that he was a god from the Shadow Realm, sent to correct balance.
But amidst all the noise, no facts emerged.
The Justice League remained silent. Their faces, battered and healing, appeared only briefly to reassure the public that Earth was safe once more. But when asked about the mysterious knight, every member gave the same response:
"We don't know."
They hadn't seen him arrive. They didn't know his name. They didn't understand his power.
He was a phantom on the battlefield—more powerful than any of them, and gone before they could even speak.
And that scared them more than anything.
Was he a savior? Or something else?
___________
In the shadowed halls of black-budget facilities and fortified bunkers, the whispers were louder, sharper.
Amanda Waller's expression was unreadable as the footage looped again on the massive monitor in front of her. Her fingers tapped against the armrest of her chair, slow and deliberate.
"He took out that monster in under a minute," an agent said, not even trying to hide the awe in his voice.
"Which makes him an unstable factor, and possibly more dangerous than the league" Waller replied coldly.
The room fell silent.
A being possibly more powerful than Superman, an unknown variable, was now part of the equation. No one knew which side that knight was on and if it were to join the league, it would make it a much greater threat. That was a future Amanda Waller refused to face unprepared.
___________
Even in Titan Tower, the mood had shifted.
Footage of the knight played in the background while the younger heroes sat in a circle, debating.
"He's definitely not a hero," Beast Boy argued, "He didn't even say anything. Just… showed up, killed the monster, and bounced. That's creepy."
"Or he's just efficient," Robin said thoughtfully. "No ego, no theatrics. Just did the job."
"I don't know…" Starfire said slowly "His entrance was cool but scary and… unnatural."
Robin grunted. "If he wanted to harm the league, he could have. They were weakened and injured, and that kind of power? It's scary."
Through the chatter, Raven remained quiet. She watched the footage one last time, eyes narrowing slightly at the way the shadows danced around the knight. The cape that devoured the beast and vanished into the ground.
She had seen that kind of shadow magic before, felt its weight, sensed its depth.
Her gaze shifted to her shadow.
She didn't speak.
But she knew.
No one else in this world possessed that kind of connection to the darkness.
Ashborn.
He hadn't said a word. He hadn't shown himself. But Raven felt it in her bones. That knight… that being who commanded death and shadow like a silent king, he was tied to Ashborn.
And her shadow knew she knew.
It was watching her.
Listening. Waiting.
So she said nothing.
She didn't dare to.
___________
Ashborn sat quietly at his desk. Across from him, lounging comfortably in the chair like it was her living room, was Kara. She was dressed in civilian clothes—simple jeans and a hoodie—and was currently devouring the snack tray in front of her like someone who hadn't eaten in days.
"You're bored again," Ashborn stated, not even looking up from the file in his hand.
Kara didn't stop chewing. "You didn't call to check on me. Even though you definitely saw the news and saw how we were absolutely wrecked by Doomsday."
She paused for a moment then continued "That's the name we decided to give the monster," she explained between bites. "It seemed... fitting."
He nodded lightly. "You looked fine in the footage. A bit roughed up, but breathing. And it's not like you've given me a phone number to call."
Kara rolled her eyes. "Excuses. Lame ones. You have no idea how horrible it was, fighting that thing."
Ashborn leaned back slightly, studying her. "I'm sure it was unpleasant."
"Unpleasant?" she repeated in disbelief. "If that black knight hadn't shown up, we might've all died. That guy's power… it was unreal. You could feel it. He didn't just beat Doomsday, he destroyed him. There was this air around him… like the world itself respected him or something."
"Yes," Ashborn said evenly, "I can imagine that."
Kara shook her head. "No, you can't. Not unless you were there. It's hard to explain, but when he stood there… it was like reality bent around him."
Ashborn shrugged. "If you say so."
She narrowed her eyes at him, then after a moment, her expression softened as she leaned back in her chair.
"You know… last time we talked, I didn't get to finish asking. What do you do for fun?"
Ashborn glanced at her. "Working. Eating. Watching movies. Playing video games."
Kara gave him a flat look. "So basically… you enjoy breathing."
"I enjoy the small things," he replied without missing a beat. "The slow process of life."
She groaned, throwing her head back dramatically. "You sound like a monk."
He didn't respond, only watched her with mild amusement.
Kara sat up suddenly, brushing the crumbs off her lap. "Alright then, Mr. Small Things. If you like movies, would you like to go see one with me?"
Ashborn tilted his head, studying her carefully. Her tone was light, but her eyes… there was something hopeful in them.
"Like a date?" he asked.
A faint pink colored her cheeks. "You can say that if you want."
His gaze drifted away, focusing on the soft glow of the console behind her. "No. I don't wish to do that."
Kara blinked, stunned. "Why not?"
"I don't feel like getting involved with anyone for now."
Her face fell, the light in her eyes dimming instantly. She stood abruptly, brushing her hands on her jeans. "Right. I should go."
Ashborn didn't stop her. He simply reached under his desk and pressed a newly installed button. The large window behind him hissed softly as it opened wide, the wind fluttering into the room.
Kara paused, eyes darting to the window. "You installed that after my last visit?"
Ashborn gave a slight nod. "It's more efficient than you open it every time and me closing it after you."
A small, almost wistful smile tugged at the edge of her lips. She gave a slow nod back. "Right… efficient."
And then, without another word, she launched into the sky, the window closing behind her as silence settled over the room once again.
Ashborn stared out at the fading light of the evening sky. Between his numbness, his funding of Cadmus and the heroes inflated ego and righteousness, he knew any relation with Supergirl will not end well.