Honestly, the world had been talking way too much. Tonight, it would finally listen.
Rex stood in the empty shell of an old broadcast station. The walls were stripped bare, and wires dangled like the innards of some ancient beast. The camera rig buzzed to life, connected to every network the Covenant ever claimed to own.
Evelyn was at the controls, her fingers moving quickly over old switches. She glanced at Rex and said quietly, "Are you sure about this?" She didn't doubt him; she just needed to hear it aloud.
He grinned a little crookedly. "I'm done letting them write my story, doc. Time to take the pen."
She nodded and stepped back, her figure glowing silver-blue in the monitor light.
Then, across the planet—bam. Screens flickered in every boardroom, war room, shady basement, and news slot. It didn't matter where you were; if you had a screen, it was taken over. No newscaster, no safe filter. Just Rex. No smirk, no theatrics, his Rebellion slung over his shoulder, silver hair falling into his eyes. He looked tired but dangerous.
"You've spent months labeling me," Rex began, his voice flat, cutting through the noise. "Terrorist. Vigilante. Anomaly. Catalyst. Threat."
He leaned in, his eyes dead. "You keep using words to control what you can't."
The feed cut to chaos the Dominion burning, Covenant ships exploding, streets filled with Unchained protests. All the things they didn't want to show.
"I didn't ask for your systems. I didn't beg for your wars. I didn't want your approval." He paused, letting the silence hang.
"But you dumped it all in my lap anyway."
Now the screen showed darker scenes like Unchained extremists, wrecked cities, collateral damage everywhere.
"You twist defiance into extremism. You use my name to hide your cowardice. That's over."
Evelyn noticed global reactions spike—governments panicking, resistance groups falling silent. The whole world held its breath.
"I don't want a seat at your table," Rex said, his voice getting sharper. "I want to flip the damn thing over. I don't want to rule your cities. I want them free, with no chains and no masters."
He let Rebellion drop, the tip clanging on the concrete.
"So here's the deal."
The feed zoomed in with his eyes sharp as knives.
"You build chains? I'll break them. You distort my name to maintain your power? I'll tear it down. You think you decide what freedom means? You're about to learn how weak your grip really is."
He straightened, no drama, just final.
"You don't control me. You don't own me. And you sure as hell don't speak for me."
And the Feed cutted. Just like that.
Silence. Heavy, everywhere. It felt as if the world was waiting for thunder.
In the Watchtower, the League stared at the screens. Clark let out a slow breath. "He didn't just start a fight against the world's chains."
Bruce's jaw was set. "Nope. He made them take a side."
Diana smirked, half amusement, half something wilder. "That's the difference."
Back at the safehouse, Rex slumped on the couch, Rebellion resting against the wall.
Evelyn crossed her arms and stood over him, not angry—just evaluating him.
"You think anyone will listen?"
He shrugged. "Nope."
"So why do it?"
He grinned, though tired. "Because it needed to be said."
She sighed and flopped down beside him. "You just put a target on your back."
"Good. Easier to see who's aiming."
[V.E.R.G.I.L.] beeped in, sounding urgent:
[GLOBAL RESPONSE — FRACTURE WIDENING. SUPPORT SPIKING. HOSTILES DIGGING IN.]
"They're not backing down," Evelyn muttered.
Rex smiled, something almost feral. "I'm counting on it."
Meanwhile, the last Covenant suits held frantic encrypted calls—panic everywhere.
"He's building influence out of nothing," someone snapped while pacing.
"He's the axis now. The whole rebellion turns on him."
"We should take him out."
But the woman in grey leaned back, bored. "You don't neutralize a devil. You drown him in his own fire."
"Project Paradox isn't ready."
"It doesn't need to be. Push him past his limit. If he breaks, fine. If not, we get the weapon we need."
Elsewhere, rebel cells argued. Some wanted to heed Rex's call; others sought total destruction. For the first time, the Unchained weren't divided by outside pressure. They split because of him.
Some embraced chaos fully. Others aimed for a rebellion with a conscience. Either way, Rex's shadow loomed large.
Evelyn patched him up in silence. The broadcast? It painted a bullseye on their safehouse. But Rex just shrugged.
"They'll come," Evelyn warned, her voice steady.
"I'm counting on it."
"You can't take on the whole world."
He looked straight into her eyes. "Watch me."
That night, high above Gotham's broken skyline, Rex felt the tremor of what he'd begun. He hadn't built an army. He'd forced a choice.
Chains or chaos.
Now the world had to decide.