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SM/DC Chapter 52 A New Project ?
🕑 Added 2025-03-08 21:20:56 +0000 UTCGotham at night was a beast with a thousand eyes streetlamps flickering, neon signs buzzing, shadows stretching long and hungry. For the lowlifes that slithered through its back alleys, it was business as usual.
A group of thugs, four of them, leather jackets, scarred knuckles, and bad intentions stood around a crate, counting their latest earnings. Probably from a robbery, maybe some drug money. It didn’t matter.
One of them, a rat-faced guy with a crooked nose, perked up.
“Yo… y’all hear that?”
The others paused, listening.
Then it came.
Laughter.
Not just any laughter a cackle that sent an icy shiver up the spine. Familiar, twisted, wrong.
Another thug, taller with a buzz cut, squinted down the alley. The dim streetlight barely cut through the fog rolling in from the docks, but something was there...a figure in the dark.
A wide grin. Glowing violet eyes. And something else a swirling black mist curling off its body like smoke.
Rat-Face took a step back, his breath hitching. “No...no, that ain't...ain’t possible. We saw that bastard in the news die!”
Buzz Cut swallowed. “Then what the fuck is that?”
The figure took a step forward. The light caught him.
A ghastly, distorted version of a face they all knew. A face that shouldn’t be here. Pale, stretched into a ghoulish smile. But it wasn’t just his face it was his whole body, twisted, unnatural, black as night.
A shadow.
The Joker.
No, something wearing his grin.
Rat-Face stumbled backward, bumping into the crate. “No, no, no...fuck this!”
The others bolted, but they didn’t get far.
The thing moved too fast.
Before one of them could even reach the mouth of the alley, it lashed out, wrapping around him and yanking him back with bone-snapping force. He hit the pavement, screaming.
The Joker-Shadow pounced.
The first punch sent teeth flying. The second left a dent in the concrete beneath the thug’s head.
He laughed a chaotic, broken sound, as if his voice couldn’t decide whether to be human or something else entirely.
Buzz Cut pulled a gun, hands shaking. “Nope! Fuck this! I ain't fighting no ghost!” He aimed and
The thing was already in his face.
It grabbed his wrist bones cracked. The gun dropped.
Before he could scream, it smashed his head against the wall.
Hard.
Blood smeared the bricks. He slumped, unconscious.
The last thug Rat-Face, was frozen, wide-eyed, staring at the monster before him.
“You…” He trembled. “You ain’t him…”
The Joker-Shadow tilted its head, like a predator considering its prey. Then, slowly, its grin widened.
Rat-Face ran.
And the laughter followed.
****
The dining room was dimly lit, elegant but not excessive. A long table stretched between Arthur and George, though Arthur had chosen to sit closer rather than at the head like some noble lord. Outside, the sea whispered against the cliffs, a rhythmic backdrop to their meal.
George, ever the proper gentleman, sliced into his steak with precision, but his gaze flicked toward Arthur between bites.
Finally, he spoke.
"Master Arthur, your… 'Joker shadow' has been absent for quite some time now." He set his utensils down with a measured clink. "Do you believe it is carrying out your request?"
Arthur smirked, swirling the wine in his glass before taking a sip. “Oh, he’s doing it, alright.”
George exhaled, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. "I must admit, I fail to comprehend why you even bother with this charade."
Arthur leaned back in his chair, tapping his fork against the plate, his grin widening. “It’s simple, really.” He set the fork down and rested his chin on his palm. “I just happened to be the reason Batman’s boyfriend died.”
George’s expression didn’t shift, but the subtle arch of his brow spoke volumes.
Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m just keeping him busy. That’s all. Because, let’s be honest, isn’t it a little weird? I took out the Joker his arch-nemesis, and what did Batman do so far?” He gestured vaguely. “Absolutely nothing.”
He took another bite, chewing thoughtfully before adding, “That either means he’s still planning something, a way to neutralize me…” He pointed his knife at George. “…or he realizes i was in the right, or he doesn’t really care..”
He shrugged. “I really don’t know which one is worse when it comes to that man.”
George exhaled through his nose, lifting his glass of wine. "Gotham is a city of mysteries, Master Arthur. Its people even more so. Whatever the case may be, I do hope this… experiment of yours does not escalate beyond what you can control."
Arthur smirked. "Oh, George." He leaned forward, eyes gleaming with mischief. "I never really had control in the first place, i just do things."
Metropolis -
In the highest floors of LexCorp Tower, beyond layers of security, surveillance, and reinforced walls, Lex Luthor sat in his private office, watching.
The large display before him glowed with Arthur Blackwynd’s face, cycling through satellite captures, enhanced footage, and data streams compiled from every available source. The boy was an anomaly...something beyond metahuman, beyond alien.
Lex had met gods. Lex had defied them.
And yet, Arthur Blackwynd was something else entirely.
He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers, analyzing every detail. His past was fragmented, his abilities undocumented. yet undeniable. He had crushed the Joker like an insect. Survived encounters with a Kryptonian and his prized project Doomsday. Wielded power that defied Lex’s understanding… and that simply would not do.
Lex reached for the small, vacuum-sealed evidence bag on his desk. Inside, delicate strands of ashen-white hair rested, barely visible against the surface.
Arthur’s hair.
A trophy. A key. A revelation.
Lex smiled.
"You’re fascinating, Arthur." He turned the bag between his fingers, watching the strands shift ever so slightly. "But power like yours? It was never meant to be held by just one man."
He placed the bag down gently, tapping a button on his desk. Multiple displays flickered to life, schematics appearing, DNA sequencing, energy resonance studies, genetic recombination models.
“You’re young. Arrogant. Powerful.” Lex’s voice was smooth, controlled, but laced with satisfaction. “But most importantly…” He traced a finger across Arthur’s image. “You’re predictable.”
He had witnessed what the boy could do. He had already begun formulating the possibilities. And all that was left
was for Arthur to take the bait.
Lex leaned back, exhaling slowly. His expression sharpened, the calculation behind his eyes unmistakable.
"Your power won’t be just yours anymore, Arthur."
He chuckled, low and knowing.
"Not for long, once i crack this little mystery.."
The large screen on Lex Luthor’s wall flickered, shifting from Arthur Blackwynd’s profile to something equally intriguing.
another footage.
The image was grainy but unmistakable. Blonde hair whipping in the wind, streaking through the skies like a missile, then. impact.
A foreign military installation obliterated. The footage rewound, showing the girl cutting through reinforced structures like they were paper. Soldiers, scientists, assets all reduced to nothing but rubble.
Lex raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh?"
A second report followed. Another site, another strike. Then another.
He leaned forward, fingers tapping against his desk as he watched her work.
"Destroying scientific facilities, military compounds..." His eyes narrowed slightly before a slow smirk curled his lips. "Interesting."
here she was, acting with ruthless precision. And not just against threats, against metahumans.
He exhaled, amused.
"So… she's operational already?"
The pieces clicked into place. This wasn’t her personal mission. No, this was sanctioned. Controlled.
A weapon.
He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "I see."
She wasn’t just cleaning up threats. She was eliminating individuals outside government control.
Lex already knew what was going on.
The Government had always been paranoid about metahumans. No matter how many alliances were formed, governments feared what they couldn’t control.
And now?
They had their enforcer.
Lex chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, well, well… how predictable, but to use them in the open like this..."
His gaze shifted, falling on the vacuum-sealed bag resting on his desk. Arthur Blackwynd’s hair gleamed under the soft light.
He picked it up between his fingers, examining it carefully, a devilish glint in his eyes.
"Maybe," he mused, rolling the strands between his fingertips, "I should work with them again... one final time."
The smirk widened.
"Just to see how this all plays out."
