The Dominion is finished. But no one is celebrating. Gotham still has that post-apocalypse vibe, with ashes swirling around, neon lights flickering, and everything battered but stubbornly alive. The world witnessed Rex tear Dominion apart, not through handshakes or polite discussions, but with pure, raw energy.
Now the Justice League wants their pound of flesh.
Rex is standing on a rooftop, high above the wreckage, Rebellion resting on his shoulder like it's weightless. He's still bleeding from the fight, but D.A.N.T.E. is buzzing under his skin, healing him. He knows how to be patient. He doesn't fidget or shift his weight. He just waits. Tonight, the League isn't here to set the rules—they're here to learn.
First to arrive is Batman, slipping out of the shadows like he owns the night, his cape fluttering dramatically.
"You escalated this beyond control, Rex," Bruce says, his voice sharp enough to cut.
"Must've missed the part where I asked for a pass, Bats."
Bruce opens his mouth to respond, but then—boom—Superman bursts onto the scene, bright red and blue shining in the dark. He lands with a thunderous crash, arms crossed and expression unreadable.
"You've put a target on your back for every power in the world, Rex."
"Good. Let them come."
Wonder Woman floats down next, looking regal, her eyes scanning like she's sizing up a chessboard, not judging, but not friendly either.
"You dismantled the Dominion," she says, her voice calm and logical.
"I gave them a chance to leave," Rex shrugs. "They didn't take it."
Cyborg and Aquaman showed up next, completing the Justice League lineup. Silence filled the air with thick, heavy, ready to snap.
Rex smirks. "I guess you're not here for rooftop beers."
Bruce steps forward. "We're dealing with the consequences of your actions."
"So does standing around, Bats."
"You're unpredictable."
"And you're... predictable."
No one is fighting, but no one is hugging it out either. It feels like a chessboard, with pieces being set back in place.
Diana breaks the silence. "You forced change, Rex. Not just in yourself but everywhere. The League can't ignore that."
"I never asked you to."
"You're not above the law."
Rex laughs, low and rough. "There's no law up here, Princess. Just the fall."
Superman's jaw tightens. "You've made enemies beyond the Dominion."
"Perfect. At least enemies are honest."
The tension in the air has changed. There's understanding beginning to rise amid their egos.
Cyborg scans Rex, gears whirring and lights blinking. "D.A.N.T.E.'s readings are off the charts. You're still changing."
"Slow burn," Rex replies, "but it's all mine."
Arthur thumps his trident against the rooftop. "We're not your cleanup crew, Devil Boy."
"I didn't ask you to be."
"No, but everyone's watching now."
"Maybe they'll finally understand if you push the wrong guy too far, this is what happens."
Evelyn's voice crackles in Rex's ear, laced with dry humor. "Are you baiting them, or just going for the title of most dramatic rooftop speech?"
"I'm educating, Ev."
"Don't make me come up there and knock some sense into you."
He can't help but grin.
Diana steps in, her gaze gentler now. "This can't last, Rex. You can't take on the world alone."
"I'm not alone."
"Evelyn doesn't count as an army."
"She's better."
Bruce marrow his eyes. "We're offering a ceasefire. For now. Don't escalate the things, and we won't interfere."
He thinks it over. It's not a leash or a surrender. Just a truce. Uneasy, but real.
"Fine. For now." He spins Rebellion oncebjust to show off and lets it rest on his shoulder. "But don't confuse patience for loyalty."
Superman nods. "We know."
Diana speaks softly, "You'll need allies, Rex."
"Maybe."
Cyborg adds, "Dominion wasn't the only shadow watching."
"Bring them on. Keeps things exciting."
Arthur snorts. "You're a real pain."
Rex grins. "Flattery, Fishboy? Save it for someone who cares."
The League makes their exit smooth, quiet, efficient. The message is clear: Rex isn't one of them, but he's also not on their hitlist. Yet.
Back at the safehouse, Evelyn waits with arms folded, a look that says 'idiot' without uttering a word.
"You made it."
"Always do."
"Barely."
He collapsed onto the couch, Rebellion hitting the floor with a thud.
"They want a ceasefire."
"And you agreed?"
"For now."
She tossed him a water bottle and sits across from him. "You're not invincible, Rex."
"I can adapt."
"That's not the same thing."
He knows. The war isn't over not by a long shot. Dominion is just the introduction.
"You're bleeding," she says, already pulling out the med kit.
"I'm always bleeding."
"That doesn't mean I stop patching you up."
He doesn't argue. She cleans him up in silence, her hands steady, D.A.N.T.E. humming as she works.
"You're changing," she says quietly.
"Yeah."
"Scared?"
He thinks about everything that happened till now the fights, the choices, the strange new version of himself in every mirror.
"Not anymore."
She flashed a quick, sly grin. "That's risky, Rex."
"Since when hasn't it been?" He shrugs, as if danger were an old friend.
Meanwhile, far beyond the neon haze of Gotham, something is watching. It's not just anybody,it's something ancient, with history. It remembers Dominion crumbling like stale bread. It knows the Devil isn't sitting in a cosmic timeout. No, he's active. And honestly, freedom spreads like wildfire.
Back on the rooftop, Rex leans into the wind, his eyes scanning the mess of the skyline. The world would come for him with armed, armored, probably looking for a fight. He welcomes it. Not because of the D.A.N.T.E. stuff (tech comes and goes), but because of the decision he made. Rip off the chains. Stand tall. No apologies, no soft landings. The Devil's dawn is here. And Rex is done playing nice.