The Batcave was quiet except for the hum of machines and the soft echo of water dripping from stalactites. Screens glowed in the background, but Bruce's focus stayed fixed on the armored man before him.
Arthur Pendragon, summoned as Saber, had not moved since their first exchange. He carried himself like a man born to lead, every line of his posture sharp with control, yet not rigid. His eyes were steady, weighing Bruce as if the knight could see beneath the cowl.
Bruce broke the silence. "You've fought wars. You know what it ans to lead n into battle. That's not what this will be. This war isn't fought with armies—it's about deception, strategy, restraint. And when the ti cos, killing." His voice was flat, but behind it was a certain tension Arthur caught.
Arthur's expression softened just slightly. "And yet you hesitate. I can sense it. The weight of that choice pulls at you, but you endure it."
He folded his arms. "It is no small thing to hold back the hand that wishes to strike. Many rulers call themselves just while drowning in blood. "
Batman replied nonchalantly. "Good thing I'm not a ruler then."
"You've chosen a difficult path," Arthur spoke softly. His voice was steady, plain, and cut through the silence. "I see it in you. The urge to kill, chained down by will alone. You've held it back longer than most could."
That is rare, Batman."
The unexpected complint hit harder than expected. Bruce looked away. "Killing doesn't solve problems. It creates new ones. Restraint isn't rcy—it's to separate the good from evil. If I cross that line, I won't co back."
Arthur nodded slowly. "Then we are alike more than I thought. A king does not have the luxury of weakness, but neither does he have the right to cruelty. You walk the sa path, though without a throne."
His eyes drifted across the cavern. "If I had a man of your mind beside in my ti, I wonder… perhaps my kingdom would not have fallen into ruin."
For a mont, Bruce allowed the thought to linger. To be recognized not as a vigilante, but as an equal by a king out of legend—it carried weight.
But he moved past it, shifting back into focus. "I need to know exactly what you're capable of. Power, limits, endurance. Everything. If I'm going to strategize, I need facts, not myths."
Arthur drew his sword just slightly, letting the light of the Batcave catch its edge. "Excalibur is not a myth. It is hope , and judgnt. Against darkness, its light will cut through.
But power without direction is wasted. If you are to guide , then I will follow your lead."
Bruce's jaw tightened. He nodded once. "Good. Then we start preparing now. The sooner we understand our roles, the better chance we have of ending this war before it swallows the world."
The Batcave's glow dimd as silence settled, an understanding forged without flourish.
***
tropolis at night glead like a city of glass and ambition. LexCorp's tower shone brightest at it's core . But tonight, at the top of LexCorp's tower, the air felt colder, sharper, as if ambition itself had taken shape.
Lex Luthor stood across from his servant Caster, Gilgash. The king of heroes carried himself with quiet authority, his ornate armor gleaming under the sterile lights. His presence filled the chamber without effort.
The golden king radiated calm authority, his armor ornate yet not ostentatious, every detail designed to command. He studied Lex as if appraising a supplicant.
"You built this empire yourself," Gilgash said, his tone curious yet patronizing. "For a mortal, it is… impressive."
Lex smirked. "Not impressive. Logical. Every stone, every policy, every deal calculated to reshape the world. Unlike aliens who crash down and claim power, I built mine."
Gilgash chuckled, low and dismissive. "Your arrogance is amusing. Still, it takes arrogance to summon ."
Lex bowed mockingly. " I aim to please. I figured of all people, you could probably understand the most, King Gilgash, the first Godslayer."
"You carry yourself like soone who rules," Gilgash continued, voice low but absolute. "And yet you are bound by the trappings of this age. Tell , mortal, do you think yourself my equal?"
Lex smiled thinly, hands clasped behind his back. "I don't need to be your equal. I only need to be smarter than everyone else in the room. That's why I summoned you. Power is wasted without vision. I have the vision."
Gilgash's laugh was quiet, but it carried disdain. "Vision? Every mongrel claims to see a better world. Few understand what it ans to create one. You think to bend into your sche? Hmph."
He leaned closer, eyes narrowing. "And yet… You do not grovel. You do not cower. You stand proudly not because you are my equal, but because you believe you could be.
Your ambition is not hollow. You are a mongrel who claws at the divine mysteries."
Lex adjusted his cufflink, unshaken. "Believe? No. I know it. This world is broken. The Grail is the key to rebuilding it.
Call what you like. But you're here because I calculated every possibility, and you're the strongest piece on the board. Work with , and we both get what we want."
Gilgash regarded him in silence for a long mont. Finally, he inclined his head with a faint smirk. "Then I shall indulge you. For now. Prove your worth, Lex Luthor. Show your word is more than empty speeches. Prove you are worth my presence."
Lex returned the smirk. "Trust , you won't be disappointed."
The two n, both kings in their own ways, stood across from one another in perfect balance—ego against arrogance, intellect against authority.
The light of the chamber dimd as the conversation settled into a wary alliance, power circling intellect like predators testing each other.
***
Far from the cities and noise, Gotham's forests stirred with energy. The night air was broken by the sound of heavy steps, each one shaking the earth.
Heracles, summoned as Berserker, carried Ace on his shoulder as if she weighed nothing. His massive fra tore through branches, leaping across rivers with thunderous force.
On his massive shoulder, Ace laughed, clutching tightly as he leapt across rivers and tore through brush with raw strength. "Faster! Co on, you can do better than that!" Her small hands clutched at his broad shoulder, her eyes wide with thrill.
Heracles' voice ca rough, fragnted by his broken mind. But it was surprisingly gentle. "Protect… Ace… always. Smash… all threats."
Ace leaned forward to look at him, her grin wide. "You're the best Heracles! No one's ever carried like this before. This is so much fun!" Berserker grinned in response.
He slowed down only when they reached a clearing, the moonlight spilling across the grass. Gently, almost delicately, he set her down on a rock.
Despite the rage that clung to his form, his eyes softened when he looked at her. There was clarity there, a spark of gentleness untouched by madness. " Water...Ace... Wanted."
Ace took out the water flask and filled it, then offered it first to Heracles. The giant drank the water in a single gulp and handed her back the flask gently. Ace smiled and refilled it then sat relaxed on the atone, leaning against him.
Ace grinned up at him, kicking her legs. "You're amazing. You know that, right? Big, scary, but… you're actually the nicest." Heracles grunted and shook his head. "I...done...bad...things..."
Ace touched his arm ,smiling up at him. "You don't talk much, do you? That's okay. You don't need to. I get it.
We both done bad things we didn't an to, right? It doesn't matter anymore. You're my friend. And I'll be yours, as long as I live."
Heracles' massive hand reached out, resting carefully near her shoulder. "Friend…" he echoed, the word heavy but warm.
Her smile widened. "Yeah. Friends. And don't worry—I'll look out for you too. I may not look like it, but I have powers to." She waved casually and beautiful white flower appeared on her hand. She offered it to Heracles happily.
Heracles squinted his eyes and very carefully took the flower. "Thank... You"
He knelt slightly, lowering himself so that his massive fra no longer lood but simply stood beside her. In that mont, despite the madness, he was sothing more—guardian, companion, and, to Ace, a true friend.
The forest around them grew quiet, as if recognizing the bond ford in its heart.
****
The sun had begun to climb over Istanbul, painting the streets with gold. In a small apartnt, Connor Kent leaned forward on a worn sofa, his eyes wide with excitent.
Across from him, Karna, Lancer, stood like a figure from a legend, his armor faintly gleaming though the morning light.
Connor spoke quickly, words tumbling over one another. "So, uh, what do you think of coffee? I an, it's not exactly legendary or anything, but people here swear by it. "
Karna tilted his head slightly, listening as if every word mattered. His smile was faint but genuine. "I do not know coffee. But it sounds important to you."
Connor chuckled nervously. "It's not important, really. Just… small things, you know?
Even the sunrise, it's different in every city. You probably saw a lot of them, right? When you were alive, I an. Eating new Food, even just walking around without being chased. I never got much of that."
Karna listened without interruption. His face remained calm, but his eyes held warmth. He inclined his head slightly. "I have seen many sunrises. I am the son of the Sun god after all.
My days were filled with promises of battle, of duty. But hearing you speak of simple things as sothing to be enjoyed… it is refreshing."
Connor grinned, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, I never got much ti to just… sit and enjoy. I was Always training, always fighting in Cadmus. They didn't treat like a regular guy. Feels good to just relax and talk, you know?"
Karna's voice softened, carrying a weight that was steady, not heavy. "You carry more than you should at your age. Responsibility, expectation, struggle. I can see it in you. But even under that, you still smile. You still find joy. That is strength, Connor."
Connor's voice dropped, eyes fixed on the ground. " I was raised in a lab without these things, maybe that's why it feels more real . To , these simple things are interesting and new experiences to be cherished.
I... Don't really have a purpose. I was raised to be a weapon. Most days, I just feel like… I wasn't ant to exist."
Karna stepped closer, resting the spear gently against his shoulder. "Existence is not asured by the design of others. It is asured by what you choose to protect, and how you endure."
His tone was calm, reassuring, like an older brother steadying a younger one. "If you wish for happiness, Connor, then I will stand with you until you find it."
The boy looked up, surprised, then smiled—small, but real. "Thanks. I… I've never had anyone say that to ."
Karna returned the smile. "Then let be the first."
The words caught Connor off guard. His grin faltered, but only for a mont. He looked down at his hands. "Thanks Karna. You are truly kind. Guess I can only try. It's not easy."
Karna stepped closer, his tone firm but kind. "Then let be your shield. Not only in battle, but in the burdens you carry. If I can stand beside you, then you need not bear them alone."
Connor blinked, then gave a wide, genuine smile. "You know… you sound like an older brother I never had."
Karna returned the faintest smile. "Then let be that, if you will have ."
The bond ford quietly, but it was real—built not on command, but on trust. The light of the broken city caught the edges of Karna's armor, turning into gold for a mont.
They both sat in silence, enjoying the peace.
***
Tokyo's neon lights glowed across the skyline, casting long shadows on the alleys below.
Katana moved through the streets with her usual precision, the Soultaker sword strapped firmly to her back. Beside her, Shuten-Dōji swayed with an almost playful grace, horns glinting under the city lights.
The contrast between them couldn't be sharper. Katana's gaze swept the sidewalks, alert, calculating, already planning their route.
Shuten, on the other hand, tilted her head toward every flashing sign and vending machine as if the modern world was her personal playground.
"So bright and loud, colorful too." Shuten purred, eyes following a glowing billboard that flashed across the skyline. "This age of yours is a banquet, little swordswoman. Wine that flows without end, food from boxes, n who spend fortunes to watch pictures move. It is delicious."
Katana's voice was clipped. "We're not here to enjoy. The Grail War is not a festival. I summoned you to fight. Nothing more."
Shuten laughed, soft and teasing. "Ah, but that is why you interest . So serious, so rigid, holding that blade as though it will save you from yourself. Don't scowl, Master. Even killers need a drink now and then."
They reached a travel agency, the lights inside dimming as the night staff prepared to close. Katana stepped in first, securing two plane tickets bound for Australia under a false na. She glanced at her companion, irritation flickering in her eyes.
"I know what your legend is," she said bluntly. "A demon of wine, a devourer of n. You expect to trust you?"
Shuten leaned close, her smile sharp but oddly warm. "Trust? No. But I like you. You've got fire in your blood and ice in your voice. That mix makes want to see what you'll do when the cracks finally show. And until then…"
She spread her arms wide, spinning once in the middle of the street. "Let taste what this world has to offer. Let drink your sake, ride your machines, see your strange skies. In return, I'll fight. Isn't that enough?"
Katana's hand rested on Soultaker's hilt, but she gave a short nod. "You fight when I say, how I say. No more."
Shuten licked her lips as if savoring the tension. "Of course, little master. For now."
The city lights reflected in her eyes, hungry and amused, while Katana's stare stayed hard and unwavering.
***
In London, the rain ca down in a steady sheet, pooling across cobblestones and glowing beneath streetlamps. John Constantine tugged the collar of his trench coat tighter, cigarette smoke curling lazily from his lips.
Walking beside him was Arjuna, his posture straight, movents deliberate, the bow on his back silent but imposing.
Arjuna, calm and composed, studied Constantine with eyes that seed to weigh more than the present mont. "You are… difficult to read. You carry many burdens, but you hide them behind smoke and words."
Constantine exhaled a thin stream of smoke. "I'm not the type to bare my soul to every spirit that cos knockin'. Na's John Constantine. You'll find I've got more bad habits than good qualities, but I get things done."
Arjuna inclined his head, his tone even. "You may cloak yourself in cynicism, but I sense purpose beneath it. I have walked among gods, seen n rise and fall. I will walk this path with you."
"You are walking like a bloody soldier, mate." Constantine muttered, hands stuffed into his pockets to shift the topic.
"Your back back is straighter than a homophobe, face like you swallowed a bloody sermon. Loosen up, mate. You're in London. Nobody's watching. And you don't gotta worry 'bout gettin cut by a mugger, heroic spirit and all that. "
Arjuna's reply was calm, but edged with disapproval. "A warrior must hold discipline at all tis. The body reflects the soul. To stagger in vice is to invite weakness."
Constantine snorted. "Vice keeps alive. Drink, smoke, cards, won, demons—you na it, I've lived it. Still breathing, aren't I?"
Arjuna's gaze narrowed. "Survival is not virtue. You cheapen the power you've been given."
Constantine flicked ash onto the wet pavent. "Virtue? You sound like you've got an arrow shoved right up your arse. Ever think about pulling it out?"
Arjuna stopped mid-step, frowning in silence. Constantine only grinned wider.
The tension carried with them into a pub, the wooden sign swinging against the rain. Inside, the sll of stale beer and fried food hung in the air. Constantine ordered two pints before Arjuna could protest.
"I don't drink," Arjuna said flatly.
"You do tonight," Constantine replied, sliding the glass across. "Think of it as training. For the liver."
For a long mont Arjuna stared at him, then sighed and raised the pint. The first sip brought no change, but the second loosened sothing in his shoulders. Constantine caught it instantly.
"See? Not so bad. The world doesn't end if you let yourself enjoy a bit of rot."
Their night didn't end quietly. A group of drunken n bumped into Arjuna, words exchanged, fists thrown.
Constantine dove in headfirst, laughing even as a chair splintered across his back. Arjuna, at first unwilling, soon moved with precision, his strikes calculated but firm, breaking up the fight in monts.
By the ti the two staggered out into the street again, both were marked with bruises and cuts. Constantine lit another cigarette, chuckling.
"Not bad, mate. Didn't think you had it in you."
Arjuna gave him a tired look, but there was a hint of humor in his voice. "You are reckless. Undisciplined. And yet… perhaps there is strength in the way you refuse to break."
Constantine grinned, bruised lip pulling. "I'll take that as a bloody complint. Co on, let's get ready for Australia. Long trip ahead."
And for the first ti, Arjuna didn't argue.
***
High above the clouds, the Vimana humd like a living thing. Its golden hull cut through the air, ancient runes glowing faintly against the night.
Cassie leaned over the railing, staring down at the city lights dwindling beneath them, while Achilles stretched with an eager grin. Edward stood at the console, hands resting casually on the controls, watching them both.
Before takeoff, Diana had called Edward. Her voice carried that mix of concern and command that never quite left her.
"Cassie told everything," she said through the line. "She's involved in the Grail War. And you—always in the middle of these things. I also want to co."
Edward chuckled, leaning against the fra of the Vimana's cabin. "Always so serious. You'd leave your duties behind just to babysit us?"
Diana frowned. "This isn't a joke father. Batman is a Master as well. You know what that ans. If Cassie is caught in the middle of this, she'll probably crush Batman accidentally."
Edward's smirk deepened. "She has more strength than you think. And besides, seeing Batman and Lex tear at each other in this war might be worth the trip alone. Don't worry—I'll keep her safe. "
Diana's eyes narrowed, but her voice softened. "You'd better. Don't make regret staying behind."
Edward then teased her. " My little girl is concerned about the grumpy bat? Do you have a crush on the emo kid now?"
"D-Don't say stupid things! And he is dating Athena of all people." Diana shouted." Anyway, I'm hanging up. Stupid father...."
The call ended there. Diana stayed, bound by her duties, while the Vimana roared to life and carried Edward, Cassie, and Achilles into the sky.
Inside the ship, Cassie was still buzzing with energy. "This is incredible. The view, the speed—it feels like we're on the edge of everything."
Achilles smirked. "It's good, but I've seen better. My chariot could outrun this thing. Wind at my back, wheels blazing, gods watching from above. Now that was a sight."
Cassie rolled her eyes. "Please. I can fly faster than your chariot. You'd be eating my dust before you got halfway across the ocean."
Achilles laughed, leaning closer. "Big words for soone still learning. Care to test that?"
Before Cassie could fire back, Edward's voice broke in from the helm. He had one hand on the controls, a faint grin playing across his lips. His fingers danced over the controls, eyes glinting with mischief. "You guys want speed? I'll show you speed."
The runes flared. The Vimana growled, then shot forward, tearing across the sky in a thunderclap. Clouds split apart, the stars sared into streaks of light, and the ship beca a blur above the ocean.
Cassie and Achilles were thrown to the floor instantly, clutching their mouths, their faces pale. The world beca a blur of speed and pressure before, in the span of seconds, they reappeared high above Australia.
Edward only smirked and steadied the ship, bringing it into descent. "Try not to get sick on the battlefield. We're almost there."
The Vimana broke through the clouds, descending over Australia. The land below stretched wide, an open plain ringed with rock and the faint shimr of wards set for the war.
Edward guided the ship toward the chosen grounds, the hum of the engines echoing into the night.
Cassie and Achilles groaned from the deck. Cassie clutched her stomach, face pale. "Ugh...That was… horrifying."
Achilles staggered up, swaying, then burst into shaky laughter. "Thrilling… absolutely thrilling."
Cassie steadied herself and took a deep breath. Achilles rolled his shoulders, already eager for the fight ahead. Edward looked at them both, amused. "Welco to the grand stage. Now the real show begins."
*******
Before we begin, I wanted to address so complaints and felt I need to clear it up before we proceed. That crowd is growing and I don't want to drag it on. It's mostly because of Edward's screen ti.
So of you guys expected Edward would be baby sitting the league and solving every single problem while appearing like a total chad(that I can do). So buckle up and get those baby oils ready.
This isn't the story where everything gets magically fixed and solved by mc . No sir. I wrote an imperfect mc cz nobody can be perfect. It's illogical.
And it's not fair to expect an Endless level being playing Batman with normies. He has a ife and family ffs.
With the World War arc, I clearly established the future the for Edward as he wants the humans to grow and stand on their own. That won't happen if he's there standing on the front every ti sothing happens.
He has his own life and plot. Just like everyone else. I saw one review even complaining why he has kids and how that ruined the story for him. Can't help it.
The one thing I tried in this story is to make each Character feel alive. That can't happen if I don't explore their lives. You don't get attached to random mobs without backstory.
I already explained so stuff about the original trajectory of the tiline in this chapter or the next one I think. It should clarify what a ssed up tiline this was supposed to be.
So if you want action , snu snu and perfect mc one shotting everyone every chapter, I can only wish you good luck on writing a story according to your preferences. I really hate how so people try to force the authors here to change things according to their taste.
I can't change my plot and idea with every complaint , because then it's no longer my story. I'd rather just stop.
Then again, it's ya'll who decide the future of the story. I write because I love writing it, and people love reading it. If one day all the folks say it's not good enough, I'll just stop. I believe that's fair enough.
Enough bs for now. I guess the fever is affecting my temper. On top of that, I tried to read so fanfics from the top rankings to pass ti.
That wasn't a good idea . Feeling slightly suicidal and lost hope in Humanity once again after seeing the type of stuff people are into.
My literal thoughts right now:
Do you wanna write an original story?
Nah, I'd translate. That's where the pimps and hoes at 😂😂 brainrots for glory baby!
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