Warrior's Light

All characters belong to DC Comics

I do not known any of these characters


I saw an angel come down,

Light caressed her body,

She descended from the heavens and entered Hell,

Warrior of peace,

Maiden of strength,

Eyes captured the essence of the ocean waters,

Hair the color of my heart,

She was a vision to hold close,

A dream to make the nightmares fade,

I beheld her feeling the blade,

She placed her hand on my armor,

Melting the ice,

I wanted to tell her the words etched on my lips,

She held me in healing embrace,

Pain dissolved within me,

I looked into her eyes and saw eternal dawn,

The stars were bright,

Night was calling,

I felt the pull of shadow grasp me into the place,

Abyss,

The angel never allowed me to fall,

She wrapped her arms over my body

Shielding me with love,

Her touch was gentle as a dove,

I thought I was a demon,

Monster without a heart,

She took off the darkness of my fear,

I became human again,

Alive with a burning soul,

No longer dead,

Free,
I gave my love to her,

My heart,

She became flesh,

I confessed the words to her,

Profound and sincere

She accepted them

I had conquered my fear,

The angel gave me something back,

She placed it inside of me,

I watched her fall,

I lifted her up in my arms,

She was no longer a vision of eternity,

Her body became like mine,

Mortal.


Gotham burned as if Hades lit the streets with flames of Hellfire. The city of darkness and malice had become condemned with a traitorous fate of mortal destruction. Souls had become lost in the shadows of death, children hid in the clusters of charred homes with tears branding the truth on their pale faces.

Smoke rose in the moonlight sky, ashes blew in the wind as the essence of humanity was fading in the abyss. Foundations created by kings of industry crumbled to nothing as flames devoured the heart of the city, consuming everything that made this place of labyrinth of mystery. Standing, ghostly still on rumble of Wayne Tower, a dark figure of the night lowered his head down, his cloak billowed in the wind between him, as his armor captured the glow of destruction around him. He balanced on the piles of cement, his movements were somber and his expression read defeat.

Nothing was left of his father's legacy, not even the name of the family he carried in his veins was found in the piles of ash and harden stone. He lifted his dark gaze up, staring beyond the blankets of smoke and searching for the stars.

He bent down, his gloved hand rubbing over the debris as he found something of importance to him, a faint glimmer of hope that held his father's name. A black fountain pen that was kept in desk in the CEO office, he held the memento against his chest, squeezing his fingers over the item with the last ounce of strength his battered form conquered up.

"I'm sorry," his bloodied lips confessed. "I tried..."

Under the menacing semblance of the bat, eyes with mixture of autumn and shadow clenched tight in the darkness of his mask, he allowed a his sorrow, pain and failure to pour out of him. His promise was broken, he allowed himself, the man he known to be as a fierce warrior, elusive wraith and cold to finally taste the sourness of defeat.

"This wasn't what I wanted, father." his voice had sounded foreign to him, a lost child with the embrace of his parents. He set his exposed jaw hard, edges of his lips curled into a scowl, and then he pounded his fists in the ashes of his legacy, making his knuckles bruise under the gloves and unleashing his uncontrolled power, he kept locked in for years. "I failed," he screamed with a mournful bellow of heart's anguish. "I wanted to save to Gotham...but I failed."

He felt the fabrics of his soul rip in thousandfold of pieces, he tucked his head in his arms, hiding face from the tall figures emerging from the shadows. Everything he fought for, saved and protected was undone, not because of a miscalculation or misjudgment of the criminal minds Arkham breed, no, because he had weakness that his enemies would never share. He had a heart and he loved Gotham so much he wanted to save it with every drop of blood flowing in his veins. This night, he wasn't able to outrun or outsmart, he had become a drifter in timeless war that last only hours on the streets but to his wounded heart it felt like eternity.

His falling tears dissolved in the ashes, blood poured from the gashes of his armor as he clenched his eyes closed, his lips parts as he released a cry that was too great, too terrible for his ears to gather up. He lifted his unsteady hands, and placed them on the sides of his mask, he removed it from his face, and tossed it into the piles of lingering destruction and he looked at the hallow face of his symbol and felt the darkness finally consume him.

"There's no going back," he growled, deep and foreboding. "Everything is changed.."

Blood dripped from his mouth, he was suffering from internal wounds—dying.

"This is it," he breathed out with a faint voice, "This is how my journey ends?"

He looked up at the burning city with the eyes of Bruce Wayne, son of Thomas and Martha. "At least I'll finally have sanctuary." He collapsed to ground, his heart pounding slower and slower, skin turned cold as his eyes brimmed with tears. A hand lifted to the grasp the beam of light shining over his shivering body, He closed his eyes, no longer allowing the world to see his brilliant colors of determined and intense hazel.

"Take me," he whispered, surrendering himself to death—to rest.

His body was weakened by the slashes of the knives, broken bones and bullets.

He knew he wasn't a hero—he never wanted to be one in the first place. He was solider of war, not a god from a forgotten planet, the fastest man alive, shape shifter of humanity, commander with wings, a protector of the world...or an immortal.

He wore armor that represented his fear...his body was a weapon and his heart a shield.

"Bruce," he heard a voice of grace call out his name, beckoning to stay. "Bruce, hold on."

He opened his eyes faintly, revealing shimmering hazel, he coughed up more blood. "Princess," he whispered the name of his love and dream with a fading breath. He blinked vividly, catching a glimpse of the Amazon warrior running to him, her armor was torn, blood stained her limbs and even there was a gash on her face. He lifted up his gauntlet arm and allowed to her to take his hand.

Diana crashed on her knees at his side, tears flowing out of her cerulean-blue eyes, "Bruce...please hold on to this life." She cradled his face to her hands, tears dropped over his lips. "I am not letting you be claimed in Elysium." She narrowed her teary gaze, locking with his hazel eyes. "You are going to prevail this night."

"Diana," he said softly, giving her a weak smile, as his hand resting on her cheek. " I—want you never gave up on this world. " He swallowed a thick gulp of air. "There are good people that will fight for everything they love...don't allow your grief to destroy that hope."

"I'm not going to let you die, Bruce Wayne," Diana growled, gritting her teeth. "You're going to live."

"I already have lived, Diana," He managed to stroke his fingers through her raven strands. "You have given me life and so much more than I can ever have." He squeezed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath and she watched the blood drain from his cheeks. "I love you, Princess. I will always carry you in my heart."

Diana shook her head fiercely, "You are allowing yourself to taste defeat in this battle. You are strong, Bruce. Lift yourself up and watch the dawn with me."

He looked at her with loving eyes, "You are my dawn, Diana."

She nodded, "You are my nigh," she allowed the tears to flow out of her.

"Close your eyes, Princess," he said with a soothing voice, staring at her eyes as shut to his words, he gathered enough strength to pull himself close to her, he framed her face in his shaky hands, tilting to once side and then leaned in close as she mirrored the same when both of their mouths pressed hotly against the others and their lips moved with rhythmic beats of their breaking hearts, he deepened into the kiss, with everything he managed to offer to her, and he give Diana his strength and humanity as his heart melted against her.

"Diana," he whispered a cold breath against her lips—death was ready to take him.

Diana opened her eyes and felt his slipping away in her arms. "Bruce..."

"I will always be with you, princess." Bruce closed his eyes and she listened to his last breath as he died in her arms.

Diana pressed her lips hard against his mouth, cradling him in her arms, holding onto to him as she lifted herself up with his body against her, tears felt like daggers etching in her cheeks as she looked down at his still face and noticed a smile graced on his lips.

She shot up an angered gaze to the sky and screamed, "Hera, bring him back!" she cried, drenching his face with her sorrow. "Bring him back to me...restore his soul."

Falling to her knees, as pleaded with her immortality, "Make me a mortal." She covered his chilled lips with a healing kiss as light shone over her body and essence of her soul poured out of her, she was becoming weak, feeling vulnerable e for the first and alone. "Allow Bruce Wayne to live."

Diana lowered his body on the ground, placed her hand on his bat insignia, and felt the warmth of the dawn caress over her body, a feeling that mended her seared heart. She kept her eyes focused on him, believing she will hear his voice. Closing her eyes, Diana grasped the truth, love and hope of mortality and felt a heart beat against her palm. She bashed her eyes opened and listened to his breath—he was breathing. She cried with joyous tears and watched his eyes flutter as the light of morning crept over his face and he opened them, looking into her blue ones.

"Diana," he breathed out her name, and she instantly embraced her in his arms, kissing her with hard kiss that made her feel whole again. She responded to his lips with everything she had and wanted, she felt mortal.

For the first time...Diana was alive.