The Gotham's burning. Again. It's not exactly new the fire has become part of Gotham's identity by now. But tonight? There's a real reason for the flames. That's all Rex. He's the one causing the city to glow orange, and he clearly doesn't care.
Dominion's main hideout is buried deep within the city's grimy, rusted industrial maze. Whether you call it a fortress or a secret lair, they think nobody's brave enough to knock. The League has intel, but, as always, they're wrapped up in politics and tiptoeing around. Rex? Not his style. He doesn't wait for the green light or fill out forms. He's here to tear Dominion apart and maybe set a few extras on fire for kicks.
The entrance is tough to spot some rundown shipping yard with barely a sign. Dominion's biggest flaw? Arrogance. They genuinely believed no one would dare walk in and start causing chaos. Guess they forgot who they're dealing with.
Rex just walks through the front door. Rebellion his sword, not just a cool name it rests on his shoulder like he's out for a relaxing stroll. Evelyn speaks into his ear:
"Dominion's goons are all over the place, Rex. You're basically poking a hornet's nest."
"Perfect. I wanted a workout."
"Please don't get yourself killed, okay?"
"No promises, doc."
The first wave hits him hard. Dominion has these armored thugs, supercharged and ready to fight. They swarm him like a virus in riot gear. But they make a mistake. You should never try to cage the devil. Rebellion sings; bullets bounced off the blade, limbs flying, egos crumbled. Rex is a storm in a leather jacket.
But Dominion isn't messing around tonight. They've sent the heavy hitters.
The main chamber is insane like an underground Roman coliseum, all cold concrete and glass. Up top, Dominion's people watching from their fancy boxes, probably munching on popcorn. Center stage? Their big, ugly enforcer. The Apex.
This thing's a nightmare with flesh, bone, armor, all fused together, glowing red in unnatural places. Its body is covered with wormy vines that twitch and writhe. It's not human or demon. Just a weapon, plain and simple. Built for one purpose: to kill Rex.
A voice booms from above from Dominion's leader.
"Rex. You rejected the evolution. Now, we'll force you to change."
The Apex shouted.
Rex barely dodges as the monster's claw sliced through a support pillar like it's nothing. Rex retaliates and Rebellion bites deep, but the wound closes up before he can even curse.
[WARNING: THIS THING HEALS FASTER THAN ANYTHING ELSE SO FAR.]
Rex just spits. "Cute trick, buddy."
The Apex is determined. Its vines lash out, grabbing Rex's arm with a grip like molten lava. He twists and throws the beast overhead. It lands catlike, ready for another round. This isn't a fight it's a test. Dominion wants to see how far they can push him.
Time blurs. Minutes? Hours? Who knows. Rex keeps cutting, while the Apex keeps healing. He's getting exhausted, and for once, that's a real issue. The creature isn't slowing down. His own healing can't keep pace.
Dominion's voice breaks in: "You can't win, Rex. If you won't evolve, you'll be crushed by those who have."
He tightens his grip on Rebellion.
They want him broken. On his knees. The thing is, devils don't kneel.
The Apex's vines pierced through his side, lifting him off the ground. Most people would be done. Rex? Something within him breaks, but not in the way they want. Not surrender. Rebellion. His blood ignites not from rage or fear, just pure "screw you."
He's not evolving their way. He'll do it his way or not at all.
The change is violent. It's chaos. His demonic blood stops changing and starts building. The wounds don't just healed they transformed. The Flesh hardens, muscles knit back together, stronger, slick, almost metallic. It's not a suit. It's not some gadget. It's just…him. A living extension of his will.
[D.A.N.T.E. SYSTEM—BOOTING UP.]
His eyes snapped open, wild and hungry. The Apex's grip sizzled where it touches him. Rex's new armor, if you can call it that, shifts and counters the vines. He rips free and lands, blood pounding in his ears. Breathing steady. Focused.
This D.A.N.T.E. thing isn't a cheat code. It's refined, precise, a scalpel not a hammer. It enhances what he's already good at, making him smarter, faster, and harder to kill.
The Apex dashed again. Not quick enough. Rex reads its movements, dodges, and counterpunches. Rebellion sliced deeper, letting the new muscle in his arms and legs move like liquid steel. He doesn't just absorb hits,he adapts. Every wound feeds the system, building him into someone tougher and quicker.
He's not fighting harder. He's fighting smarter.
The Apex can't keep up. Its tricks fall flat. Regeneration slowed. Joints snapped, tendons teared. Dominion's suits in the glass boxes starting to sweat.
Their shiny new weapon forced Rex to evolve. But not into their monster. He's nobody's puppet.
He's his own devil.
That last hit? Pure poetry. Rex didn't just fight,he launched himself off the arena wall, executed a flip over the Apex, and plunged Rebellion straight through its skull. Adaptive matter on his arms went full beast mode, making sure the strike landed without mercy. The Apex staggered and hit the ground so hard that the entire place probably shook.
And then it's totally dead silence.
[D.A.N.T.E. SYSTEM — STABILIZED. ADAPTIVE FUNCTIONALITY AT 45%.]
Rex let's out a breath. That living technology faded away, sliding back under his skin, waiting for the next round.
He shot a look at the Dominion guys watching from above. "Good effort," he called up, his voice dripping with attitude. "But I don't level up for free." He flicked Rebellion up at the glass like a casual threat. "Next time you want to trap me, bring your A-game."
Safehouse. Evelyn's hands shook as she hovered over the console, glued to the feed. "He did it," she breathed, but her eyes never left the cost. That evolution? It was a wound,one that cut much deeper than flesh.
The door slammed. Rex stumbled in with bloody, breathing, somehow still standing. She met him with a look sharp enough to peel wallpaper.
"You're an idiot."
He grinned, showing all his teeth. "Still breathing."
"Barely, dumbass."
He plopped into a chair, tossed Rebellion on the table with a thud. "Evolving," he said, clearly too cocky, "but only on my terms."
She checked him out, noticing that strange shimmer under his skin. Like he'd picked up a glow and forgot to mention it.
"You named it, didn't you?"
"Yup it's D.A.N.T.E."
"D.A.N.T.E., huh?"
That smirk. "Sounds badass, right?"
Evelyn rolled her eyes. "God, you're unbearable."
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
She sighed, took out the medkit, and got to work patching him up. Her hands lingered, maybe longer than she'd admit, as if she was pulling him back to reality. Devil or not, he was still Rex. And she wasn't about to let him forget it.
Way down in Dominion HQ, a bunch of suits stared at the screens, dead silent.
"He's evolving exactly what we feared," one whispered.
The boss shook his head. "Nope. He's what we needed. Start Phase Three."
The board? It wasn't just moving. Rex had flipped the whole thing upside down.