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Dick stood alone, surrounded by an endless void. He was cut off from the outside world, trapped within the confines of his own mind. Time had lost all meaning as he searched the blank expanse for an exit that didn’t exist. He knew that Slade had been freed, released from the eternal darkness that now plagued him.
The Justice League must’ve found a way to fight Pariah and his grasp on the Great Darkness. Had they already taken down Slade’s army? Restored the multiverse and its infinite worlds? Fear trickled down his spine. He had no way to know. What if they’re struggling to win? Or if Slade had another trick up his sleeve?
Dick’s thoughts spiralled like the beginnings of a ravaging storm. One of his friends had already been injured under the guidance of his leadership. What if it happened again? The memory of Gar's injury flashed into his head. (A gun fired at point blank; bandages wrapped carefully over an eye; a body laid unresponsive in a hospital bed.) Guilt squeezed his insides, eating away at his resolve. The prospect of more destruction, of more casualties, was ever daunting.
When he’d shared this space with Slade, they spoke about legacy and mercy. Dick had tried to persuade him, to appeal to his sense of honour, but the hold of Pariah was too strong. Instead, Slade cautioned him. He said that the Dark never truly goes away, that it always prevails, and it’d be the only thing he’d be left with. At the time, Dick refused to concede, refused to let the mercenary sway his viewpoint, but in a way he was right. Darkness was all that remained.
With nothing but his own thoughts to distract him, Dick sat in reflection. His entire life had been shadowed by gloom, whether he knew it or not. If it wasn’t Slade, there had always been some other villain waiting for him in the wings. So many of them wanted to control him, to possess him. He’d never forgotten that before Bruce, before he'd even become Robin, the Court of Owls had set their sights on him, seeking to make him theirs. Didn’t that mean he’d been doomed from the start? That only the tragic loss of his parents had saved him from a worse fate?
From that moment onwards, Dick had learned to embrace the dark. Robin may have been born from vengeance, but he’d grown to seek justice, to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. Of course, there were times when it overwhelmed him and almost destroyed him, but he’d preserved and continued to fight. ‘Cause when push comes to shove, he pushes back.
The more he thought about the Darkness, the more vulnerable he became. It enveloped him, slowly seeping into the crevices of his mind, but Dick didn’t waver. He knew what he had to do. The Dark had to be freely accepted, and only then could he be freed from this mindscape.
Lowering his defences, Dick absorbed the Great Darkness. His body became a vessel as it gradually consumed him, dragging him down deep. The sensation of hands caressed his hips, moving up his sides to settle on his chest. They pulled at his heart, measuring his worth, poking and prodding. He felt like an insect pinned for inspection.
A sudden weightlessness overtook him. He floated in a void of nothingness. The emptiness ached. Then, slowly, the Darkness settled within him, having found its new home. It was a familiar presence, one he’d felt many times over. Building within him like a simmering anger or an insidious fear.
Dick opened his eyes. He floated high above the battlefield, looking down at the ongoing war. Cold, metallic chains wrapped around his arms, dangling freely in the air. His gaze swept over the fight. The Dark Army had pulled back, retreating under the combined force of the Justice League and the Titans. Each hero pulsed with power, glowing an otherworldly white, courtesy of Black Adam. The man had sacrificed his power, splitting it evenly amongst the heroes to combat the Dark.
Directly beneath him laid Rose, still unconscious. More chains, forged from Darkness, encased her chest. They kept her immobilised. She hadn’t managed to escape like he’d hoped. Instead, the Darkness had left her vulnerable.
His eyes flicked over to Deathstroke. He’d been freed from Pariah’s influence yet continued to fight for his cause. With a vicious punch, Slade knocked Black Adam to the ground. He raised his sword, ready to strike him down. Before Dick could intervene, a small explosion forced Slade to jump out of the way. Cyborg had shot his sound amplifier, delivering a concentrated blast directly at him.
Dick slowly floated down until his boots touched the ground. A single grey eye followed him, tracking his movements. Slade had been corrupted, his soul tainted, but he still watched Dick. Never able to let him go.
“Nightwing,” acknowledged Slade. Some of the other heroes turned to face them, noticing for the first time the strange aura that surrounded Dick. “I see you’ve figured out how to harness the Great Darkness.”
“You’ve lost Slade,” spoke Dick, his voice echoing across the field. “Surrender now or face the consequences.” His skin buzzed with energy. The chains rattled at his sides.
“No.” Slade stepped forward, sword unsheathed. “Don’t any of you see why I did this…? The mercy I offer…?” He directed his questions towards the heroes but kept his eye locked on Dick. “I don’t want what happened to my children to happen to anyone else. No one should ever know that pain.” Slade pointed his blade at Dick. “But if this is to be the day I die, then legacy dies with me.”
Throughout his speech, Slade had crept forward, strategically positioning himself near his unconscious daughter. By the time Dick had noticed, he'd already swung his sword down, aiming at Rose's neck.
This was the mercy he offered. A quick, painless death.
Dick outstretched his hand, flinging one of the chains at Slade. It knocked his sword loose.
“Enough!” bellowed Dick.
The chains responded to his plea, striking out like coiled snakes. They latched onto Slade, wrapping around his arms and legs, squeezing him tight.
“Nightwing, what’s happening?” yelled a voice from somewhere behind him. A murmur went through the crowd. They were concerned.
Dick felt a tick of annoyance. He didn’t want an audience.
The Darkness listened. It lifted him high up into the air, away from prying eyes. Surprised shouts were drowned out as the rush of wind batted against his ears. The chains that encased Slade pulled, forcing him to follow. He dangled a hundred metres above the ground, helpless. For once, Slade was at Dick’s mercy.
“What’re you going to do, Grayson?” asked Slade, unimpressed by the display of power.
Dick didn’t answer and instead reached out with his mind. He felt a swirling mass of Dark energy surrounding Slade, twisting around his form like black ribbons.
It belongs to you, whispered a voice.
It did, didn’t it? He couldn’t let Slade be a host for the Great Darkness.
Slowly, more chains unravelled from his arms, snaking further around the mercenary. As the cold metal touched bare skin, it began to absorb his power. The Darkness travelled from Slade through the chains and pooled into Dick.
There’s more, the voice whispered again.
Terrible flashes appeared inside his head. Showing him all the pain Slade had inflicted over the years, all the horrific crimes he’d committed. The murder and terrorism and torture and assault. His victims… there were too many to count. Even those closest to Slade had suffered. His children, ex-wife, and friends, none were exempt.
Then there’s what Slade did to him. The obsession he held. He wanted to own Dick and consume him until there was nothing left. The stalking and blackmail. An unwanted apprenticeship. The sheer possessiveness. He’d gone after his family attacked Bruce and his brothers, the Titans and his friends. Slade bombed Blüdhaven, causing one hundred thousand deaths and wiping the city from existence. His home, his people, were gone in an instant.
Too much had happened. His mind couldn’t fathom it.
“Look around you, Slade, look at what you’ve caused. We can’t keep doing this, something has to give,” said Dick. He didn’t wait for Slade’s response, not really expecting one. “Do you remember what I told you? After you and the Secret Society dropped Chemo on my city?” Slade’s eye widened, remembering when a furious Nightwing had broken into his compound all those years ago. That, too, had ended in a fiery explosion, but with one less daughter to stand by his side. “No? I promised that you’d pay for what happened to Blüdhaven. Well, today’s that day, Slade.”
The chains tightened, drawing more and more energy from Deathstroke. He struggled against the pressure, trying to wrench himself free. Dick could see the indents in his skin, where he pushed against the chains. The Darkness ravaged Slade’s body, forcibly stripping him of his serum and draining away his powers. Without it, Dick wasn’t sure how long he’d survive.
There were eyes on them. Dick noticed a couple of heroes hovering nearby, keeping a safe distance from them. He spotted twin blue uniforms belonging to Clark and Jon Kent, as well as the recognisable green glow from a couple of Lanterns. They were watching, judging.
A pained expression came over Slade’s face. “Well played, kid.” He laughed, loud and hearty, before being interrupted by his own cough. “I always knew–” Blood trickled down his mouth. “–you had it in you.”
Slade’s life force began to drain. The chains were unrelenting in their strength. He…usually Dick would’ve felt something about this, about taking a life. Why couldn’t he remember…? Wetness coated his face. Tears. He was crying. The Darkness swirled, forming a force field around them. They were surrounded by a shroud of black.
Superman flew in close. Dick could only just make out the bright reds and blues of his costume, everything else had been lost to the dark.
“It’s okay, Nightwing, Pariah is gone. You can stop,” implored Clark, his tone gentle.
He should…he should listen.
Pariah’s gone, but Slade remains, whispered the voice, he’ll never stop tormenting you.
The voice was right. Slade would never stop, not without interference. Dick had to stay strong. The Darkness was his to command.
More visions invaded his mind. This time, he was shown every victim of Deathstroke. They stood behind Dick like a shield, boosting his resolve, cheering him on.
Superman flew to his other side, unable to cross the dark barrier surrounding them. “Come on, Dick, I know you can hear me. You need to stop.”
Several different Lantern constructs tried to break open the force field, but their light failed to touch him. A sickly green glow mixed in with the black. Desperate voices called out to Dick, but he could no longer hear them.
It was just him, Slade, and the Darkness as it was always meant to be.
Slade took a few heaving breaths as the chains constricted around his chest. Blood, thick and dark, poured from every orifice. These were his final moments.
“Grayson…” rasped Slade, his breathing laboured. “...finish…it…”
Dick commanded the chains to squeeze harder, fracturing Slade’s ribs. They splintered inside him, piercing his lungs. Slade’s face slackened. He’d taken his last breath.
A minute passed, then two.
He was dead. Slade had died, and all that was left behind was an empty husk, barely recognisable as the man he once was. Dick felt nothing. He’d taken a life and felt nothing. Somehow, Slade had gotten what he wanted. He died having made Dick a killer, taking the last of his morality with him.
The chains loosened as Dick floated back to earth, a heaviness weighing him down. He landed on solid ground, just outside the battlefield. The fight was well and truly over. Pariah was defeated, the Dark Army gone, and Slade dead. Any remaining villains had used the chaos as a distraction to slip away unnoticed.
Dick’s friends and family ran towards him. He could feel their energies, still flowing with the power Black Adam had bestowed on them. Dick braced himself for their fury as he dropped the Dark barrier, revealing the terrible truth. Slade’s desiccated corpse slumped to the ground, tangled in the chains that extended from his arms.
There were several loud gasps before the shouting began. Everyone had something to say. They crowded around him. Their voices overlapped, indistinguishable from one another.
Superman flew down, followed closely by his son and the Green Lanterns. He inspected Slade's body carefully despite already knowing his fate. His super hearing alone would’ve noticed the absence of a heartbeat.
“He’s dead,” Clark spoke softly, but the words seemed to quieten the heroes. Nobody had expected this of Nightwing.
“I know,” whispered Dick. He couldn’t look his pseudo-uncle in the face.
Clark reached out an arm, a comforting gesture, but Dick flinched. He didn’t deserve it, not from a man who embodied such goodness. The hand quickly retracted. Clark seemed to be at a loss on what to do.
“It wasn’t your fault. The Darkness must’ve–” he started, but Dick didn’t want to hear it.
“No, I can’t blame the Darkness, not entirely. This was my choice. I have to live with the consequences.”
Batman stepped forward. Gauntleted gloves balled into fists. Dick’s skin prickled.
“We don’t kill.” Bruce's voice was laced with disappointment. “We’ve got a code, one I thought you believed in.”
A proverbial slap. Dick stared silently, his feet firmly rooted to the ground. The chains slowly curled around his arms, ready to block any incoming blows.
Hypocrites, the voice spoke, all of them.
Visions flooded his mind. Violence and destruction wrought by those he loved. Criminals were beaten bloody, their bodies broken and twisted. Children fighting a crusade they couldn't possibly understand. Lies and deceit are buried underneath pretty half-truths. Countless deaths made righteous since they were the ones to pull the trigger.
None of them were without darkness. He could see that now.
From the crowd, Red Hood shoved himself to the front. He strode forward to stand between the two vigilantes, obscuring Dick from sight.
“Get off his back, old man. If ‘Wing hadn’t done it, one of us would,” he reasoned.
“Red Hood, now's not the time,” said Bruce, visibly annoyed.
His siblings joined the argument, fighting on his behalf. Energy hummed under Dick’s skin, wanting an outlet. A small figure lightly brushed against his hand, distracting him from the building power. It was Damian, his Robin. The boy glanced up at him with a steely resolve, a silent spark of understanding. Something loosened inside his chest.
More people joined his side. Wally, Donna, Babs, and so many others made their presence known. They shouted support, refusing to abandon him in his hour of need. The brimming Darkness stilled, and his power stabilised. Damian gripped his hand, grounding him.
Dick, for the first time in days, felt brightness return to his life. He’d chosen to take on the Dark to save his loved ones. So it was only fitting that his loved ones guided him back towards the light.