The safehouse sat in a thick silence that sneaked under Rex's skin. It poked at the parts of him he wanted to ignore. He hated it. Always had. He would take a drunken bar fight or a loud alarm any day; at least noise kept the demons occupied.
But tonight, it was just him, the noise of old electronics, and that nagging feeling that something inside him was off. He sat on the edge of the workbench. Rebellion leaned against the wall, and his jacket dropped abandoned on a chair, as if it had somewhere better to be. His body ached in a bone-rattling way, but wounds closed. Scars healed. That wasn't the issue.
The real issue is? All the stuff beneath the surface. The things you can't see. The things no one asks about.
D.A.N.T.E. wasn't sleeping. It never really did. It felt like a second heartbeat, pounding out a rhythm that wasn't quite his anymore. Maybe it had started as him, but now? Who knew? The thing had a mind of its own.
Rex drummed his fingers on his leg. Under his skin, the adaptive matter twitched, almost as if it were picking up a tune. Familiar, but not quite. Like an old friend who'd changed their hair, leaving you unsure whether to hug them or hold back.
[ADAPTIVE INTEGRATION, STABILIZING. CURRENT SYNC: 48%.]
He dismissed the notification. Not in the mood for a back-and-forth with V.E.R.G.I.L. tonight.
The door creaked open as Evelyn slipped in, med-kit under one arm, her eyes sharp as ever. She spotted him instantly. Of course, she did. She always saw through his action
"You're pacing inside your own head again," she said, not even looking up as she set the kit on the table.
He smirked weakly. "I'm always pacing, doc. It's cardio."
She didn't buy it. "Sit."
He knew arguing was pointless. He plopped down and watched her drag a chair over, sitting just out of reach. She didn't touch him, but her gaze cut through the layers he didn't realize he had.
"Talk."
He shrugged. "About what?"
"Don't play dumb, Rex."
He grinned, showing teeth. "I'm always dumb."
"Not tonight."
There it was—the crack. He exhaled, running a hand through his silver hair. The mask slipped for just a moment, allowing the truth to peek through.
"I'm changing, doc."
"I know."
He hated how calm she sounded. Like it was just another Tuesday.
"Don't know if it's good."
She shrugged. "Are you changing into them? Or are you still you?"
That one hit hard. Wasn't that the whole question? D.A.N.T.E. wasn't a gift; it was a middle finger to death. Something his body created out of spite. He didn't ask for it, but he definitely needed it.
Still, it always felt like it wanted something in return.
"I'm adapting," he muttered. "But every time I get stronger, it feels like I'm slicing off bits of myself."
She didn't flinch. "That's the price."
He frowned. "What price, exactly?"
"You can't change and keep everything the same, Rex. Something's got to give." Her voice was gentle, but it landed like a punch. "So…what are you willing to lose?"
He had no answer. He thought about Lex, the Dominion, the League that always trying to mold him into their shape. Everyone wanted a piece. Everyone except for Evelyn.
She just wanted the truth.
"I don't want to lose myself, doc."
"Then don't."
He snorted. "Yeah, because it's that easy."
"Things are only complicated if you let them be," she shot back, deadpan.
He hated how she did that. Just stripped away all the smoke and mirrors until only the bruised, uncertain mess underneath remained.
"You think I can handle it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
She didn't hesitate. "No. I know you can."
For the first time all night, the wild energy under his skin settled. D.A.N.T.E. wasn't a curse. It wasn't a leash, either. Just another scar twisted into something useful—if he could keep his hands on the wheel.
Later, they ended up sitting on the roof, shoulder to shoulder, while Gotham's chaos buzzed around them. Sirens, neon, the whole scene. Rex balanced Rebellion across his lap, tracing the blade's edge with his thumb like it was a worry stone.
Evelyn sipped her coffee and made a face. "You're quiet."
"Processing."
She grinned. "That's dangerous."
"Everything about me is dangerous."
"Can't argue with that."
Another silence followed, but it wasn't as heavy. Just…familiar. The city breathed, and so did they.
He broke the quiet first. "You ever think about quitting?"
She didn't even blink. "Yeah. Every day." She sipped her coffee and smirked. "But you keep getting into messes, so I can't."
"Sorry, doc."
She rolled her eyes. "Liar."
He laughed—a real laugh, not a forced grin. The weight was still there, but it didn't feel like it was trying to crush him.
"I've been thinking," he began, his voice a bit rough. "Dominion wanted a pet. Lex wanted a weapon. The League? They just want a file. None of them ever asked why I keep fighting."
She nodded, letting him speak.
"So why do you?" she asked.
He looked at her. No jokes. No bravado. Just the truth.
"You."
It landed hard. No games. No drama. Just—her.
She gave him a look, soft but still business-like. "Big responsibility, Devil Boy."
He grinned. "I'm not great at thank-yous."
"Good. Don't need them. Just need you alive."
"That's the deal."
They let the city fill the silence. D.A.N.T.E. still throbbed under his skin, but this time, it felt steady. Balanced. Not because of the system.
Because of her.
The next morning, Rex found himself face-to-face with the mirror, just like always. But this time, his reflection felt less like a stranger. It actually felt like him for once. The stuff under his skin—the adaptive matter, the tech, whatever—didn't feel like it was crawling inside him. It felt…earned. Like every scar and busted knuckle had helped build it. Build him.
[D.A.N.T.E. SYSTEM, SYNC RATE 51%.]
He rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms. Not perfect. Not shiny or new. But it was his, no doubt.
Suddenly, Evelyn's reflection appeared behind him. She looked way too awake for this early.
"You look way less haunted than yesterday," she said, eyebrow raised.
He snorted. "Feels weird as hell."
"You'll get over it." She tossed him a small device. He barely caught it.
"What's this?"
"Schematics for Dominion's core facility. Guess who's invited to crash the party?"
He couldn't help but smirk as he slid the drive into his pocket. "Didn't know you were so eager for a fight, Doc."
She shrugged. "Somebody's got to keep you from doing something stupid."
He grabbed Rebellion—his weapon, not just a tool for the job and swung it over his shoulder. "You're starting to sound like my partner."
She grinned. "Deal with it."
Honestly? He didn't have a comeback for that.
Meanwhile, hidden in the shadows of Gotham, Dominion's thugs watched him on a sea of monitors and tracking every heartbeat, every twitch, crunching numbers like that would give them an advantage.
Yeah, good luck with that.
No algorithm could pin down Rex. No pattern could box him in. He wasn't turning into some obedient project. He was becoming exactly what kept them up at night.