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SM/DC Chapter 91 : Storming the Syndicate
🕑 Added 2025-04-16 21:13:11 +0000 UTCThe world fractured. Space twisted like glass struck by a hammer. Light bent. Time stuttered.
BOOM.
Arthur was ripped from the dungeon, launched through the seams of reality, and slammed back into the waking world with a loud crack of displaced energy and a gust of shadowy mist. His boots crunched onto concrete.
Arthur rolled his shoulders and groaned, brushing off dust.
"I'm starting to hate teleportation…"
He exhaled slowly surveying his surroundings, the last wisps of dungeon mist dissolved around him.
He smiled , half satisfied with his efforts.
"These soldiers should be enough," he said, feeling the new shadows writhing beneath his feet like loyal hounds, "alongside Doom and Galatea, I can take on the Syndicate."
[Ding!]
[You have leveled up.]
[Item Acquired: Baruka’s Dagger]
Arthur’s gaze snapped to his system menu as it unfolded before him in pulsing light. The blade shimmered into his hand, sleek, jagged, and cold to the touch.
Baruka’s Dagger
A weapon passed down through the Ice Elf assassins. Grants an increase in attack power and drastically reduces its wielder’s weight for enhanced agility.
Arthur tilted his head, unimpressed.
"Not my thing." He flipped it once, then tucked it into system inventory.
"Baruka can have it back. He’ll put it to good use."
He clenched his fist, and the [Status Bar] unfolded.
[Status Bar]
Name: Arthur Blackwynd
Job: Shadow Monarch
Title: Solar Reaper
Level: 100 → 104
Fatigue: 10
HP: 8100
MP: 9700
Strength: 201 → 205
Health: 165 → 171
Agility: 170 → 175
Intelligence: 192 → 200
Sense: 141 → 150
Available Ability Points: 12 → 0
[Passive Skills]
• Tenacity (Level 1)
• Insanity’s Gambit — Immunity to Mind Control, Fear, and Sanity-Based Debuffs
[Job-Specific Skills]
• Shadow Extraction
• Shadow Exchange
• Monarch’s Domain
[Skills]
• Bloodlust (Level 2)
• Ruler’s Authority
• Mutilation
• Sword Rush
[Equipment]
• Omega-Hardened Hide
• Abyssforged Necklace
[Inventory]
• Doomsday’s Bone Gauntlets
• Abyssforged Necklace
• Azarath Knight Armor Set
• Greatsword of the Lowborn
• Promethium Sword
• Anti-Kryptonian Blood Vial (Epic)
• Shattered Bolt
• Demon King Longsword
• Kryptonite Sword
• Solar Gauntlets
• Venom Sac Flask x10
• Baruka’s Dagger
• Tower of Fate Key
• Legacy Shadow Legion Dungeon Key
Arthur closed the menu with a flick of his finger, his smile widening. “I should g...”
BEEP-BZZZT.
A sharp, electric buzz shot from his pocket, Not a ringtone. Just that piercing high-frequency static.
He raised a brow and tapped the side of the device.
“Hey, Lex—I mean Alexander… never mind. Same thing.”
A pause. Then the voice came through, clipped, sharp, laced with frustrated genius.
“I’ve been trying to reach you for the past twenty-four hours.”
Arthur blinked, a sheepish smirk forming.
“My bad.”
“I thought you died. Not that it would’ve been shocking, but still, a little warning next time?”
Arthur chuckled.
“Relax. I took a nap in another dimension and came back stronger. You know, the usual.”
“Wonderful. While you were busy with whatever, I finished about twenty percent of the machine.”
Arthur’s eyebrow twitched.
“Only twenty percent?”
“What did you expect?” Alexander snapped, clearly annoyed. “I’m reverse-engineering quantum anomaly tech during a global superhuman crisis with no funding. Twenty percent is a miracle under these conditions.”
“Fair enough.” Arthur muttered. “What’s the hold-up?”
“Resources. Exotic ones. The kind that just so happens to be hoarded by the Syndicate.”
Arthur grinned, his voice dropping an octave.
“We already discussed that, I can go after them.”
A pause.
“You’re that confident?” Alexander asked, not even masking the disbelief. Then he sighed. “Very well. We don’t have a choice. And we’re running out of time. All of us.”
That line made Arthur’s smile falter. His voice was quiet now.
“…What do you mean by that?”
“I told you, I’ll explain when we meet in person.” There was a brief crackle. “But not now. I’ve got something else for you. I’ll send coordinates. Go there first. You’ll find some weapons, ones I designed specifically to give you an edge against Syndicate members, Also I should tell you about their weaknesses...”
Arthur perked up.
“No need I already know about them, also custom weapons? Built for me? You really know how to spoil a guy.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I built them with the help of your shadow. Well—my shadow. No—wait—ugh, the other Lex.” Alexander groaned. “Just know one of the devices I left behind can disrupt Johnny Quick’s connection to the Speed Force within a set radius.”
Arthur’s eyes widened, sparks of interest dancing behind them.
“That’s a huge help. Why didn’t you use this before?”
“Because I’m not strong enough to get that close to him without being turned into paste.”
Arthur grunted.
“Right… stupid question.”
“You said it, not me.”
Arthur’s smirk returned, his eyes narrowing toward the horizon as storm clouds rolled in like an omen.
“Alright then… Let’s get this over with.”
“Good. I’ll be in touch.”
****
The night was tense. Alive.
A cold breeze howled across the steel skeletons of the cityscape as Arthur Blackwynd stood tall atop a looming skyscraper his silhouette sharp, unwavering.
Beside him, Galatea hovered just slightly above the rooftop, arms crossed, cape fluttering in the wind like a battle flag. Her eyes glowed faintly, locked forward on their target.
A tower.
Not just any tower.
A monolith of steel and arrogance, crowned with a burning white emblem—a 'U' shining like a god’s eye across the horizon.
Arthur exhaled slowly, his voice slicing through the wind like a blade.
“I already picked up Luthor’s little gadgets…” he cracked his knuckles, shadows pulsing across his gauntlets.
“Time to strike. Galatea, let’s fly.”
She gave a wicked smirk, kneeling slightly before lifting into the air beside him.
“As you command… my king.”
****
Inside the tower-
A bored guard stood by the window, sipping from a lukewarm coffee cup, eyes scanning the calm skyline lazily.
“Another damn shift, it’s not like anyone will..” he muttered, rubbing his eyes.
Something moved.
His brow furrowed.
Far off something was approaching through the dark.
“Is that a… bird?”
He leaned forward.
It was getting bigger. Fast.
“…Wait a minute… is that a—”
CRASH!
The glass shattered like ice under a sledgehammer as Arthur and Galatea blasted through the window at supersonic speed.
Before the guard could scream, Arthur’s hand clamped over his face, slamming him into the concrete floor with bone-rattling force. The man was dead before he even realized what’s going on.
Arthur stood, eyes glowing a cold, surgical blue, brushing glass off his shoulder like dust.
“Alright…” he said, voice echoing across the chamber,
“Now come out.”
The shadows answered.
From the darkness, a wave of black surged, Ice Elves, their armor frosted and shimmering under the dim red emergency lights, emerged like wraiths. Their eyes burned cold. And leading them…
Baruka.
He knelt before Arthur, silent and deadly, still cloaked in frost and menace.
Arthur reached into his inventory, the dagger, Baruka’s original blade, now humming with power.
He handed it over.
“Baruka,” Arthur declared, voice like a war drum.
“Lead the ice Elves and Unleash chaos upon them. Find what Lex asked for. Leave nothing of value untouched.”
Baruka bowed low, reverent.
And with that, the shadows exploded.
The Ice Elves vanished into the halls, crawling across walls, melting into vents, slipping through cracks like death incarnate. Baruka sprinted into the darkness, twin daggers dancing in his hands.
Arthur turned, cape swaying, stepping over the ruined guard as alarms began to wail across the building.
“It’ll be ideal,” he muttered to Galatea with a grin,
“if we finish them all… right here, right now.”
****
OWLMAN’S COMMAND DECK -
A dark, brooding nerve center carved into the heart of the Syndicate’s high tower, cool steel walls, endless rows of blinking monitors, data streams flooding from every continent, surveillance feeds spanning dimensions.
The only light in the room came from the flickering blue glow of the massive screens surrounding the tall throne-like chair in the center.
Owlman sat there, arms resting calmly on the obsidian armrests, his cape draped like a shroud of intellect and menace. His mask reflected the light of the monitors as a feed from Sector C-1 flashed into view.
There he was.
Arthur Blackwynd.
Standing amidst chaos.
Smoke, sparks, and broken Syndicate tech around him.
And he was looking directly at the camera.
No emotion. No fear.
Just those piercing eyes and a slow, deliberate smirk
CRACK!
The screen exploded into static after Arthur simply raised his hand.
Owlman’s gaze narrowed.
“…So that’s him.”
His voice was calm, too calm. The kind of calm that meant something dangerous was unraveling in his mind.
“I figured he wouldn’t stay hidden forever.”
He tapped his fingers together, mind spinning with calculated malice.
“Even anticipated he’d make a move… but these things he’s unleashing…”
More feeds showed flashes, ice elves, moving like assassins. bisecting Syndicate operatives.
He leaned forward, eyes scanning, calculating.
“Johnny only mentioned one shadow.”
From behind, a sultry, amused voice broke the tension.
Superwoman.
Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, clad in her crimson and obsidian suit, her eyes glinting with excitement.
“My… how bold.”
She pushed off the wall with a wicked grin.
“I should go greet him. Properly.”
Owlman didn’t even turn.
“You mean we should.”
His voice carried no emotion, just logic. Cold and precise.
“Ultraman is off-world… still observing what I warned him about. That anomaly..”
He turned his head slightly now, just enough for the corner of his glowing lens to catch her.
“Which raises the question…”
He stood up slowly, like a storm about to roll in.
“Did this man know Ultraman wouldn’t be here ?”
Superwoman tilted her head, smile never leaving.
“Who cares?”
Her voice was full of arrogance and anticipation.
“We can easily crush him. Just another pest. Let’s go.”
Owlman stared at the shattered feed for a long second. Silent.
Then, he moved.
One swift motion. One final decision.
He stood tall, cape flaring as he turned toward the exit, Superwoman already ahead of him.
