The city wasn't a battleground anymore. It felt like looking in a cracked mirror, his own mess staring right back at him. Rex stood at the edge of a half-collapsed parking garage, neon lights reflecting off his boots. Below? Protests everywhere. Some people were shouting. Others were less peaceful. The Unchained Movement had become aggressive. No more bark, just bite.
Evelyn stood next to him, her eyes scanning the chaos, her jaw clenched tightly. "They're not all here for you, Rex," she said, her voice tense. "But your name is everywhere."
"That's what keeps me up," he muttered, tightening his grip on Rebellion. "I didn't ask for this stage, but here I am. Center spotlight."
Earlier, the news spread quickly..some Unchained group had destroyed a Covenant facility. Not for freedom. Not even really for protest. Just to cause damage. Civilians got caught in the crossfire. "Collateral damage," the papers called it. Rex called it something else. A lazy excuse for violence, all happening under his name.
[INCOMING COMMUNICATION, JUSTICE LEAGUE SECURE CHANNEL.]
He didn't need to check the caller ID. Only Bruce would call this early. "You've lost control of your image," Bruce began, as flat as ever.
"Didn't know I ever had it."
"Quit pretending this isn't your fight."
"I never started this war, Bats. I just stopped playing nice."
"Now everyone's using your face for their revolution."
"That's not my fault."
"It is now." Click. Classic Bruce.
Evelyn, on the other hand, didn't hold back. "You need to fix this."
"And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"
"Show them chains break by choice, not chaos."
"So… a public service announcement?"
"No, genius. Remind them who you are."
He hated when she made sense.
Later, Rex entered the Unchained's biggest stronghold—an old Gotham factory, now full of wannabe freedom fighters. The leaders waited, full of swagger and attitude. They didn't see a leader. They saw an excuse.
"Rex," a guy with a scar running from eyebrow to jaw called out, arms crossed over a red jacket. "Didn't think you'd bother showing up."
"I don't do 'bother.' But I do clean up messes."
"Messes?" The guy feigned surprise. "We're just following your lead."
"You're following my shadow, pal."
"That shadow's burning the chains."
"No, it's not. You're just getting tangled in new ones." His smile faded.
An older woman, cool as ice, stepped in. "You made yourself a symbol, Rex. Symbols don't get to choose how people use them."
"Yeah, see, that's where you're wrong." He stepped forward, sword draped casually across his shoulder. "I'm not your symbol. I'm what happens when you push too far. If you think using my name gives you the right to hurt civilians, you're no better than the people you hate."
"You can't stop this movement."
"Don't have to." He lifted Rebellion, the blade catching the broken lights. "I just need to cut out the rot."
He didn't go in there to kill. He went in to humiliate. Humiliation lasts longer than any scar. He shattered their bravado, knocked weapons loose, and cracked egos. By the end, they all breathed, but not one would forget what happened. Corpses don't learn. The living do, when they're lucky.
Evelyn found him outside, leaning against a rusted pipe, blood on his knuckles, his face unreadable. "Productive meeting?" she asked, eyebrow arched.
"They'll think twice."
"Or maybe not at all."
"Not my call, doc."
"It is, actually."
He found her irritating when she was right.
[V.E.R.G.I.L.] chimed in.
[GLOBAL SENTIMENT SHIFT: UNCHAINED FACTION FRACTURE — 14%.]
"They're splitting," Evelyn said. "Some will listen, some will get worse."
"I'll be there and remind them who I am."
"You can't fight an idea with a sword, Rex."
"Watch me."
The League was watching too. Bruce, Diana, Clark— the whole Justice League peanut gallery. "They'll come harder now," Diana said.
"They're already coming," Bruce replied.
Clark, all serious: "He doesn't want to lead, but he has no choice."
"Leaders don't get to pick their wars."
"Neither do devils."
Back at the safehouse, Evelyn patched him up. They didn't talk much until the last stitch. "You can't do this forever."
"I can."
"You'll lose yourself."
"I won't."
But even he didn't sound so sure anymore. He could feel it. The weight of it. Defiance costs, and the bill? He was paying in scars. That night, a new message appeared in his encrypted inbox. No name. No threats. Just a sentence. "Every devil becomes a god or a corpse. Which are you, Rex?"
He smiled. Neither. He was something worse.
On the rooftop, as the city's chaos simmered, Evelyn stood beside him, her hand resting on his arm. "You're still you," she said softly.
"Am I?"
"You'll always be Rex. Whether the world burns with you or against you."
He believed her. He had to. The alternative wasn't an option.