Darkseid led the descent into the Necropolis. At this point they had been walking for a better part of an hour.
The echo of their boots followed them through the narrow stairway like a cloak of thunder. It was so loud that anyone within a one-kilometer radius could hear them, Darkseid was sure of it.
The sandstone walls around them smelled of salt. The deeper they went, the stranger the air became. It grew heavy, almost moist. Not from heat, but from the pressure of something else, a magical presence somewhere ahead on their path.
"Do you feel that?" said Aurelie softly.
"Yes," Darkseid replied. "I feel an ancient power, older than Mongul."
Eventually, after an hour-long descent, they reached the bottom of the stairs. A massive gate of the same living metal awaited them. But this one did not resist. It opened slowly as they approached.
Beyond it stretched a long hall lined with statues reaching the high ceiling. The figures of armored Warzoons, the previous Monguls, rulers of the Warworld. Between each of them, torches of orange flame burned with a still calmness. There was no wind here, and the air was light, barely enough to sustain the fires.
They passed the hall of statues, into a corridor with various doors leading into different parts of a branching dungeon. The lighting here was provided by yellow veines of crystals running through the walls.
"Where do we go from here?" Tina wondered.
Darkseid said nothing. His gaze moved across the corridor, taking in any information he could from his surroundings. Most of the doors looked used, except one that had a layer of dust upon it.
"This place is used regularly," Barda said, confirming his own thoughts.
Darkseid once again decided not to reply, moving forward silently. He opened the closest door to them.
The room beyond the door was vast. An antechamber of black walls latticed with familiar veins of yellow crystals. Racks of weapons lined the room.
Packed to the brim with rows of weaponry, this room resembled a library more than an armory. There was too much here, as if the weapons here were not meant to arm the soldiers before war. It was a collection.
The smell here was metallic, tinged with oil. Someone took time to oil all of this weaponry.
Some of the weapons, spears, glaives, axes, bore distinct runic symbols of the Warzoon tongue. Others were clearly made with alien to this world craftsmanship.
Barda ran a gauntleted hand along a nearby rack, lifting a massive glaive. It was twice her size, but she handled it with ease, as she was used to her mace, which was as tall and as heavy as the glaive in her hands.
"Ceremonial, but practical," she said, testing the weight. "Good balance. Not from this world, Apokoliptian or Almeracian."
Aurelie trailed her fingers along the wall; light rippled where her skin met the surface. "This place feels wrong. Like it's listening to us."
"It is," Darkseid said simply. His voice carried no echo — the sound was absorbed by the walls themselves. "The metal here was not forged. It was created with magic."
Tina knelt near one of the racks, her eyes scanning weapons in them.
"They look… kept," she said. "Like someone comes here sometimes. Maintains them."
Darkseid said nothing; he knew all of this already. But he was satisfied with his warrior's apparent skill. He moved ahead, into another corridor branching from the chamber.
The next hall was narrower, lined with alcoves filled with armor. Just like the first room, this armor was gladiatorial, well-kept.
Some armor was made for humanoids; the other was built for things with wings, tails, or additional limbs.
He moved deeper into the room, Barda moved beside him, her armor clanking faintly. This room had one remarkable difference from the previous one.
"Then this isn't just an armory. It's a training ground." Barda said, looking at a modest sand pit in the corner of the room.
Training dummies stood in a row at the furthest from the entrance wall, each made of reinforced metal, each one scarred from years of usage. Mechanical limbs hung from the ceiling, connected to rusted apparatuses meant for various training. This section of the room smelled of sweat.
Tina walked back to the entrance.
"I'll scout ahead," she said. Her voice trembled with tension, though she tried to mask it. "My job is to protect you, Emperor. But you always walk everywhere first. This way, if there's something alive down here, it'll see me before you."
Darkseid let her go. He knew she needed to prove her courage. Of course, he was stronger than all of them combined, but these girls were improving at a scary rate. Soon, he will be able to trust them to pull their own weight.
The group followed Tina's steps. The corridor opened into another hall.
Rows of armor again. But this time - modern. Sleek, angular suits built for space warfare, purple plating. Each bore the insignia of the Mongul clan – a yellow disk with an anvil and an axe inside. But the designs of the armor were not native to Warworld. Their symmetry, their aerodynamic efficiency, it all screamed of a different entity.
"H'San Natall," Darkseid said with a sharp intake of air. His eyes scanned the lines of suits. "Mongul has dealings with H'san Natall. Curious."
The amount of armor couldn't be just from trade. No one traded armor in such quantities, and especially not a planet in a forced eternal peace like Warworld was.
It seemed that Darkseid chose his first target wisely. His enemies were working together. And here he was, planning to kill two birds with one stone. But as it turned out, it was just a single bird.
On the other side of the armory, there was a massive door. Made of silver colored metal, it looked out of place among the stone walls of Necropolis. The more you looked at it, the stranger it looked.
Made with modern tech, pristine, sleek, and electric command panel on the side. It was clear that whatever was beyond this door was built or modified recently.
Fortunately, the door wasn't locked securely; a simple push of a button on the control panel opened it.
Beyond it was a colossal hangar, stretching farther than sight. Dozens of ships, all of them small, meant for fighter-level combat. Craft that would be used for quick missions, assassinations, infiltrations, and target demolitions. Predator-class spaceships capable of stealth, black with purple highlights.
The ships were compact and angular. Their wings were short and sturdy, designed more for speed than maneuverability. The cockpit was nestled low and forward, a tight capsule that gave the pilot an unfettered view, armored heavily but without excess bulk.
While Darkseid stood afar, looking over the spacecraft, analyzing it inside his mind, the Furies spread out, each drawn by a different curiosity. Only Tina remained beside him as a dedicated bodyguard.
Aurelie ran her hand along one of the ships, her fingertips trailing sparks as the hull reacted to her energy.
"Feels alive," she whispered. "Like the walls before."
Barda checked the markings on the nearest vessel, letting out a guttural moan. She was angered by something.
"H'san Natall designs. These bastards." She cursed before turning to Darkseid. "If they're producing these here…"
"I doubt it," Darkseid interjected. "Warworld doesn't need a fleet. It's greater than most navies of the universe just by itself. At least in terms of firepower."
Warworld was created long ago as a weapon capable of destroying planets. He wouldn't be surprised if, at its peak, Warworld could destroy whole stars.
A planet like that wouldn't need a big navy. It wouldn't even need carriers, as it was housing a whole planet's worth of warriors. No, these ships were meant to be a strike force during planetary sieges.
Barda climbed the ramp of one of the ships, peering inside the cockpit.
"Seats for two," she called out. "Neural-link. Piloted by thought."
"Efficient," Darkseid said. His tone was unreadable. He took in the expanse of the hangar, the machinery, the quiet hum. Each detail was a map of Mongul's ambition. A clue to the goals of the rival ruler.
Evidently, two of his enemies were working together. Now that New Genesis was in an alliance with Apokolips, these two were preparing for the war. This solidified Darkseid's earlier conclusions. This was not a mere trade deal between the two Empires; it was a partnership. Mongul was preparing a campaign.
But Mongul's involvement still didn't answer the question that had been bugging his mind for two months. How had H'san Natall known when and where to ambush? Information was being leaked, including his route back home. But by whom?
Not finding any answers, the group had decided to move on from the hangar. They returned to the first corridor, choosing one of the two remaining doors. The one that Darkseid had noted to be covered in dust before exploring the complex.
This room was made of ancient stone, contrasting with the hangar they had just left. The air here was electrified, filled with invisible energy. It pressed on their lungs.
Blue crystals everywhere. Massive formations of them rising from the floor, seemingly frozen in time and space.
This room was drastically different than any other before. A heavy layer of dust covered everything, so thick that it dulled the light coming off the crystals.
Tina gasped softly, stepping closer. Her cheeks underneath her heavy helmet were blushing a bit.
"They're beautiful."
Barda's brow furrowed. She pressed her gauntlet against one of the crystals, and it hummed in response like a glass full of water.
This energy signature… He had seen this type of energy before. He looked over the room once again. There, in the nearest corner of the room. One of the crystal pillars was clear of dust, and a chunk of it was broken off.
"These crystals were taken," he said, his voice unsure of his findings. Judging by the dust, Mongul was not using this room often. If at all. But who then came and took the crystals away?
The Furies fell silent, sensing their master's uneasiness. After a minute or so, the crystals began humming faintly. Gradually, it became louder and louder in their presence, as if it were aware of their presence.
Darkseid felt himself drawn to them. He knew that the crystals had been emitting low blue colored light before. But now, once he started looking closer, paying attention to them, their light vanished. Then, as soon as he shifted his gaze to another construct of crystals, the previous one would brighten again.
Were they hiding from him?
Something moved. Or someone. There was a sound of steps in the corridor they had just left.
He immediately gestured for Furies to take battle stances. The three of them hurriedly took their drilled formation around Darkseid. Tina is at the front serving as the shield of the company. Barda, a little behind her to the right, prepared to strike with her dominant right hand. And Aurelie at the back, as a team leader, she needed to see all of the battlefield. She was also the fastest member of the team, and could maneuver her way around the battleground, aiding whichever teammate needed it the most.
They had frozen in space, preparing for the enemy to strike at any time. The hum of the crystals was the only audible sound in the room. Now that the adrenaline had rushed into their systems, the temperature that previously was comfortable and chilly now felt closer to sauna. Their bodies inside the armor began sweating a bit from the nerves playing with them.
They were kilometers deep now. There was no escaping this dungeon on their own. The availability of the motherbox was a sweet thought, calming their minds. But still, the pressure was immense.
Time moved slowly. Minute. Five. Nothing happened.
Darkseid was the only Apokoliptian who was calm and collected. He did his due diligence, sending out spies in advance and sizing up the opponent. Of course, the information from their spies was not perfect, as he had lacked a proficient spymaster in his employment.
But Darkseid was still confident in himself and his powers that now went beyond his capabilities in the original timeline. Not only was he stronger now, gaining access to the full might of the Omega realm, he had bound Apokolips to himself, got himself a wishing stone that could influence reality itself, studied magic – a craft that he had previously discarded as barbaric, and acquired a soulbound weapon, extending and amplifying the capabilities of his soul.
Mongul and his goons would not be a challenge for him.
He stepped forward, exiting the crystal room. He was reckless, but confident. Furies had followed him, looking from side to side of the corridor.
At first glance, there was nothing different about it. The same stone walls and floors, the same ropes of yellow crystal lighting. But…
The light at the end of the corridor was dimmer now. A trap was set up. Something almost invisible was blocking the path of the light.
It was a wall of living metal, like the one at the arena. But this one was almost invisible to the eye. He felt it with his magic sense. It pulsed faintly, the smell of ozone, the same kind as before.
It seemed like this metal substance, whatever it was, was listening to the commands of its master. Following his instructions, this one was probably detecting intruders, if he was to guess.
In that case, they need to move forward; they have already found out.
Darkseid said nothing, only gesturing his warriors to follow him. He pushed forward, flaring up his magic, coating them in a thin layer of protection. Enough to reflect minor stuff.
Then a sound cut through the silence. A low, grating voice, mocking and familiar.
"Well, well," it drawled. "Ain't this a fascinating meeting?"
At the end of the corridor, almost from the thin air, a figure had stepped out, emerging from beyond the wall of metal. His presence was masked by it before, like a chameleon camouflaged in the greenery of the forest; this one was hidden in plain sight. Some kind of invisibility or illusory veil, Darkseid guessed.
The emerged figure was a tall, muscular male, skin pale as bone. His black hair hung loose over his shoulders, his red eyes gleaming with savage amusement, rings of black shadows around his eyes. The scent of booze, machine oil, and blood filled the air.
Lobo. He was grinning as always, baring blade-like teeth.
"Didn't expect to see ya bastitches here. Mongul did say that you could be here, but I didn't think you were that stupid."