For several minutes, their battle became a storm over the world, an untouchable war between two forces beyond comprehension. Cities stopped. Nations watched in silence.
And then—David simply stopped. Hovering amid the ruined sky, his expression turned bored. The fight that had held the world's attention so completely now seemed, to him, nothing more than an exhausting waste of time… after all, he got everything he needed form this battle.
"Well, I'm bored," David said flatly, raising his hand and casually forming the infinity symbol by crossing his pointer and middle fingers. The instant the gesture was complete, Klarion's incoming attacks froze midair, suspended in place like glass caught in time.
"H-how! Space is sealed!" Klarion shouted, disbelief twisting his expression.
David tilted his head, the faintest smirk playing at his lips. "Sealed? Naw," he said lazily, as if correcting a child. "Space wasn't fully sealed. What you did was more of a space-locked zone—something that prevents techniques of a certain level from working. If space were truly sealed, then nothing would move at all."
He spoke with an offhand calm, as though explaining basic physics. Klarion's eyes widened further, shock flickering across his face as he realized David had been using him to improve his capability… but he was wrong.
"I could've done this the instant you sealed space," David said with a grin, his tone light but his eyes sharp. "Adaptation's one of my things."
And it was true. The moment Klarion had sealed the space around them, David's mind had already begun analyzing, adjusting, and evolving in response. With his two templates, would he be talented if he didn't adapt to sudden changes?
Within seconds, he had fully adapted to Klarion's magic—he simply hadn't bothered to show it. The Limitless was always there, waiting to be used, but David preferred not to lean on it too heavily. Besides, he didn't want Klarion escaping before he figured out exactly how to prevent the brat from fleeing.
Klarion's lips twisted in fury, power crackling around him as he prepared another spell—only for his entire body to go rigid. David had vanished from sight, and before Klarion could react, a hand clamped tightly around his throat.
His eyes widened in panic… Then came the sound—sharp, sudden, and devastating.
David's open palm connected across Klarion's face with bone-cracking force, a perfect, effortless bitch slap that sent a shockwave rippling through the air. The blow wasn't just physical; it tore through Klarion's very essence, reverberating down to his soul.
Klarion's scream erupted a second later—raw, shrill, and agonized—echoing across the frozen heavens. It wasn't just pain from the strike, but disbelief that such a simple, human act could hurt him more than any weapon ever had.
But David didn't care. He kept slapping the Witch Boy again and again, each strike echoing like thunder through the frozen air. Klarion's body convulsed violently from the unrelenting pain, his screams cracking as tears poured freely down his pale face.
"Stop! Please! Stop, I'm sorry!" Klarion cried, his voice breaking between sobs as he desperately tried to block the next blow. His trembling hands shot up to shield his face or grasp at David's wrist, anything to stop the assault—but David ignored him completely. His expression stayed calm, detached, as though he were disciplining a child rather than punishing a higher-dimensional being.
The slaps continued, merciless and rhythmic. Each one reverberated with curse power, striking not just flesh but soul.. Slowly, Klarion's once-black hair began to drain of color, turning as white as snow—a reflection of the sheer horror and spiritual trauma coursing through him.
He wanted to die. Every nerve, every fiber of his being screamed for release, yet death refused to claim him; he was immortal. Plus, to die would have been mercy, and David wasn't offering that. All Klarion could do was sob and endure, trapped in pain so absolute that even immortality became a curse.
"Pl… please," Klarion cried weakly, his words barely leaving his mouth. His voice was raw and trembling, too damaged to rise into a scream after the endless storm of slaps that had crushed both his pride and body. Every breath came out broken, each sound shaking from the pain still crawling through him.
Seeing this, David finally stopped, lowering his hand and giving a faint nod of approval, as if he had seen what he wanted. His expression didn't change—no satisfaction, no anger—only the same calm focus he'd carried from the start. He turned away from the trembling child, scanning the area for Ra's Al Ghul. Of course, the man was gone. David sighed quietly, neither surprised nor frustrated. Someone like Ra's would always find a way to run.
He shifted his attention back to Klarion, who was barely conscious, his body twitching from the aftershocks of pain. "You will become my training partner going forward. I need to be able to fight back against reality warpers, after all," David said calmly, his tone light but carrying quiet authority.
Before another word could be spoken, his hand suddenly detonated, the blast scattering blood and fragments through the air. The force shook his arm backward, but David didn't even flinch. His gaze followed Klarion, who wasted no time escaping—his body fading into red light as he slipped away and vanished, retreating back to the higher dimension.
"I guess that's one of my weaknesses…" David said softly, lowering his gaze to where his hand had once been. Klarion had used the physical contract between them—and the brief moment when he was no longer being forced to endure that unbearable pain—to destroy David's hand from within. It had been a calculated act, done with precision and perfect timing. Klarion had to execute it quietly, without letting David notice or sense the shift in reality that preceded it.
Even though Klarion wasn't among the most powerful reality warpers in existence, he was still capable of manipulating reality on a small enough scale to exploit such an opening. The act itself was subtle, a testament to how dangerous even limited control over reality could be. David's brows lifted slightly, but there was no anger or frustration—only quiet acknowledgment.
With a simple shrug, he watched as his arm regrew, flesh knitting together effortlessly until it looked as though it had never been damaged at all. His gaze then lifted, turning toward the horizon where new presences arrived. In the distance, several figures emerged from the sky and surrounding terrain—Doctor Fate, Superman, Flash, and many others
You guys were slow," David said lazily, his voice carrying that same casual calm that made the words sound more like an observation than a complaint.
"Well, with the earthquake you were causing, we had to save people," Flash replied, rubbing his arms as the chill of the snow-covered land bit through his suit. The cold clearly bothered him, so he began to vibrate, raising his body temperature to push back against the freezing air.
"Yeah, you're pretty much, at least, stronger than me," Superman said with a faint, amazed smile. His tone wasn't jealous—just honest, impressed even. David, however, didn't bother responding to the compliment. In his mind, Superman was still the stronger one. He had seen it with his own eyes when Superman fought his clone, holding back his full strength until he absolutely had to use it.
Superman had never truly gone all out—he had never needed to. What he believed to be his limit was, in reality, far from it. There was something in him that always held back, a mental barrier that kept his strength contained. Maybe it was because he wanted to be more human than god, or perhaps it was simply because he grew up among humans and his mind had unconsciously adapted to that level, leaving Superman unable to truly tap into his godlike strength. Whatever the reason, David knew that if Superman ever fought without those limits, he could easily destroy planets.
He'd even heard stories of Superman shaking an infinite-size dimension and, while weakened, defeating a higher-dimensional being in its true form with a single punch. That kind of power was beyond comprehension. So, yeah—Superman was stronger, without a doubt.
"You managed to defeat Klarion… Klarion is someone whom I would need Nabu to fight," Doctor Fate said quietly, his voice calm yet thoughtful. Judging by his tone, Nabu wasn't the one in control right now. Doctor Fate then turned toward the hovering cameras that had drifted closer, frowning as they began to scan everyone present.
"Well, since I'm not needed here, I should return home. I'll do a quick scan of this land to see if I can find Ra's Al Ghul," Flash said before vanishing in a red blur. Doctor Fate gave a small nod toward David and teleported away soon after, and following him was Zatara. He had come to confront a lord of chaos, but seeing the battle already over, he simply said his goodbye and disappeared as well. Everyone went, the Green Lanterns, the Martian Manhunter, and so many more.