The Detective slowly edged the door open, peeking through the crack it made to get a general idea of the scene beyond it. He saw what looked to be hundreds of ponds with all sorts of overgrowth on them. Closer to his location he caught sight of a few of the priests being guarded by members of the Demon's Fang, Ubu standing in front of them with his arms crossed.

Currently, two assassins were forcing a monk towards one of the pools, each holding a tight grip. Strangely, the monk didn't seem to be resisting the men, contrary to the way the assassins were holding him. His feet dragged and bounced off the ground, causing him to stumble more out of a loss of balance than resistance. Reaching the pool, they forcefully tossed the priest in, the man disappearing beneath the waters. It took a couple moments before a blue fire erupted from the waters, its light flickering across the Detective's surprised face.

At least that explained why the monks from the larger group outside were being led here; each and every monk was being used as a sacrifice to find the Fountain of Life. The Master would most assuredly focus his entire attention on the search for the correct pool. Now, he just had to find him...

There. Standing between his men and the ponds was the Master, his back to all of them as he watched the proceedings. For a moment, the black-clad man couldn't believe his luck; he had an unimpeded view of the Master's unguarded back, just waiting for a knife to be stuck into it.

Reaching to his belt, the Detective pulled out one of his shuriken, a special one dipped in a lethal poison. He didn't use it very often, but that was because he only saved it for special occasions and what could be more special than the overthrow of the Great Demon's Head? Slowly, he opened the door more so he could have a wider gap to throw through. He had only one shot at this and he didn't want—

"You may as well come out, Detective," the Master spoke. "Come and explain to me why you are here."

The Detective clutched his poison-tipped shuriken tightly out of anger before sliding it back into its pouch. Collecting himself for a moment, he then pushed the door completely open before stepping out onto the descending stone staircase. The other assassins and monks were looking at him blankly, as if they cared not a wit at his presence.

Ubu, on the other hand, looked positively enraged. "Dog!" he shouted with rage, "why do you disturb the Master's work?!"

By now, the Master had turned around to regard the black-clad man, though his face was bemused more than anything. "Calm yourself, Ubu. Allow him the use of his head for the moment before it is cut off for insubordination."

That seemed to placate the manservant, though the Detective just ignored him; arriving at the bottom of the stairs, he continued towards the Master until he reached the dirt ground at the edge of the stone patio. There, he knelt before the Master, staring down at the ground. "I apologize for my intrusion," he began, sounding earnest. "The Princess believed my presence at your side would aid in your search for the Fountain of Life since she could not be at your side herself."

"Is that so," the Master stated. "Very well, Detective, you may serve my purpose." He then angled the side of his body towards the hundreds of pools and pointed a finger at them. "Use your body to find the Fountain."

The image of the burning monk filled the Detective's mind as he processed that order. "Master?" he asked questioningly, daring to raise his head and look at the man.

"Do not play me for a fool, Detective," the Master said blandly. "I know your true cause as well as my daughter's. You come to usurp me, nothing more."

There was a sharp gasp before Ubu screamed, "Infidel! May you die a thousand deaths! Master, I will rid you of this scum—"

"Silence!" the Demon's Head roared, Ubu faltering in his rage. Then in a more sedate tone he said, "The Detective has come all this way to face me and I believe it is time to see whether he has the skill and fortitude to do what all others have failed to. It would be a shame if this coup of his did not at least make an earnest attempt to overthrow me."

Seeing no more reason to stay kneeling, the Detective slowly stood up. "Before I kill you, tell me how you know of this," he questioned.

A small smile graced the Demon's Head's lips. "There is not much I am unaware of, Detective, such as your and my daughter's blossoming relationship. I cannot lie that I did wish for such a union; though as Talia has undoubtedly told you, you have a very narrow mind when it comes to greatness. It was only a matter of time before she set you on the proper course."

The black-clad man resisted the urge to clench his fists tightly. The Master had known about them, even with the steps they had taken to conceal themselves. No doubt following his own failing in Gotham the Master wished to prod him into action by serving him a demotion into Talia's guard. Well, the Master got exactly what he wanted.

"Of course, I do not tolerate insurrection by anyone," the Master continued to say, an arm tossing aside his green cloak as he drew out his saber, the friction between blade and scabbard ringing out. "Not even by my own daughter. Should your attempt fail, all parties will be punished."

This time the Detective reacted, biting down hard as his jaw twitched. "I will accept full responsibility for all repercussions," he responded. "Just leave Talia out of your wrath, O' Great Demon's Head."

"And why should I?" the Master inquired.

"Because you and I both care for her greatly. I took her rightful place here in order to spare her such a fate should I fail—which I can assure you I will not."

There was a growl from Ubu, but the manservant remained silent. It was becoming quite apparent that more than the Master would need to be disposed of here; that was probably for the best since he would prefer his own Ubu instead of one still loyal to his future predecessor.

In response to his words, the Demon's Head nodded. "I will take your words under consideration, Detective. Just know what you stand to gain...as well as lose. Before you stands what I consider to be the prototype of the Lazarus Pits, the very waters that have gifted me with everlasting life. However, unlike the pits, the Fountain can resurrect a man without the insanity that is induced by the Lazarus. Of course, once the bombs I have set at each pit go off, there will be no more Lazarus Pits for use."

"And thus why you sought out the Fountain," the Detective added.

Again, the Master nodded. "Quite. However, as it stands you have the chance to wrest the Fountain from me, and secure not only your position, but immortality for yourself and your...Beloved. The world can be forever yours.

"Of course, if you fail, you will have your life forfeited and will remain as only a reminder to all who wish to oppose me. Can you accept these terms?"

It was the Detective's turn to nod. "I do."

"Very well. Ali!"

One of the assassins stepped forward and knelt on the ground. "Yes, my Master."

"Lend the Detective your sword."

Without hesitation, Ali drew out his sword and then stood up, tossing the sword through the air. Raising his hand out, the Detective caught the sword at its hilt, bringing it into his body where he grasped it with his other hand. Holding the sword in front of him, the black-clad man pointed the tip towards his opponent, who stood at a side, holding his own saber out at shoulder height, its point aiming right at the Detective.

"Show me what you are made of, Detective," the Master ordered. "Prove to me that you are the new Demon's Head."

"Come out, come out wherever you are! I'm gonna find you, Alien! You can't hide forever!"

J'onn peeked around the corner of one of the buildings, using it to shield himself from Firefly's ever searching eyes. The Martian had managed to give his opponent "the slip" as humans would say, and taken cover behind the stone buildings. This of course sent Firefly flying around, searching for him.

Looking down at himself, J'onn could see discolorations in his skin, all caused by the proximity to fire, if not the heat itself. The flames were close enough as is and his body did not react well to its proximity to it. Unfortunately, there was very little he could do at the moment.

Of course, now that he had managed to buy himself some time, he could launch a psychic attack against the armored man. As long as he had a few moments—

"I found you!" Firefly crowed behind him, causing the Martian to whip his head around. Flamethrower aimed, the flying man fired a stream of fire at J'onn.

Immediately, J'onn changed his density, his body becoming transparent. Diving to the building next to him, he went right through the wall and entered what appeared to be a dojo. Solidifying, he lifted off the floor and began flying through the open doors and down the corridor. It wouldn't be long before Firefly set the entire place ablaze if only to drive him out. With the direction he was going, the Martian predicted he'd be exiting the building on the other side, which is what his opponent expected of him.

So, he decided to change course, he went transparent once more and passed through a wall to his right, continuing in this new direction until he exited the building, not stopping until he entered the next structure.

It was during this change that J'onn caught sight of one of the others, Hawkgirl, maneuvering in midair as she avoided what appeared to be blasts of electricity. It wasn't until J'onn entered his new temporary sanctuary that he considered this.

Electricity was by no means a safe alternative to the fire he faced, but it was one he could cope with better. The shocks would burn, yes, but he could take more voltage than he could a match flame, which spoke nothing to the streams he was facing now. Easily he could imagine Hawkgirl facing Firefly head on, not bothered by the armored man's attack.

Thus a solution presented itself.

Opening his mind, he reached out to Hawkgirl's, his eyes glowing a bright orange. Hawkgirl he mentally called out, trying to reach her.

Strangely enough, he wasn't able to initially. That was most unexpected; most people of this planet, including Superman, were easy to access with their minds. Still, he had to try harder. Focusing harder, he continued to reach out until he caught a glimpse, small and distant, but still there. Concentrating, the glimmer grew bigger until he finally made contact.

Hawkgirl!

J'onn?! the Thanagarian exclaimed in surprise. What are you—

Listen, we do not have much time. I am having difficulty with my opponent and I see you are having some too.

I am not having a hard time, she fired back heatedly. He just won't let me hit him is all!

That is why I am offering to trade, J'onn replied. I will handle your opponent while you defeat mine.

That so? Who's your guy?

He is the man with the flamethrower who—

I see him. Consider him roadkill, J'onn. Now get Electrocutioner off my back.

I'm on my way.

Once more becoming transparent, J'onn made his way out of the sanctuary, reappearing outside. Seeing exactly where Hawkgirl and this Electrocutioner were, the Martian flew quickly towards the battle.

Unfortunately, that brought on the attention of Firefly. "Quit you're runnin', Alien!" he shouted as he came diving through the air, giving chase as he fired his flamethrower. Dodging, J'onn noticed Hawkgirl suddenly change her flight heading right towards him at a higher altitude. Mindful to keep an eye on her, he noticed her suddenly diving down, her mace in her hands as it sparked with power. "Haaaaaa!" her war cry rang out, growing louder as she closed the distance between them.

J'onn twisted his body around in midair to get a look as Firefly noticed with surprise Hawkgirl's descent upon him. Pulling back, he narrowly stopped as the Thanagarian passed right in front of him, slamming her mace down on the ground and causing it to crater.

This provided the Martian with the time to put distance between the two, closing in on Electrocutioner. This new opponent realized J'onn was approaching him and raised both of his gauntleted hands, firing a blast of electricity at the approaching green-skinned man.

In response, J'onn altered his mass, making it lose it solidity. This caused him to drop from the air, his defining features vanishing as he landed in a pile of green goo on the ground. However, this didn't stop him from moving as he began stretching his formless body out, leaping on the ground over and over as Electrocutioner kept firing his electric blasts, landing none.

The moment he was in attacking distance, J'onn did so, wrapping himself around Electrocutioner's legs and going up. "What the?!" the man exclaimed before J'onn had him bound with his body, mindful of the gauntlets, however. For those, J'onn allowed his more humanoid form reform from his torso up. Grabbing Electrocutioner's arms, he held them tightly with his superior strength. Leaning over the man, J'onn stared into the man's bewildered eyes and lit his own orange ones up.

All it took was one moment for J'onn to enter his mind, the violation of the act causing Electrocutioner to outwardly scream in horror. Quickly finding the areas of the man's mind that held his consciousness, J'onn roughly shut them down, knocking the man out and stopping his screaming. Feeling Electrocutioner's body go limp, the Martian slowly unraveled his body from him until J'onn stood on his own two reformed feet, his new opponent lying on the ground defeated.

There, that was one of the Men of Death defeated. Now he could assist with the oth—

Right then, Firefly crashed into the ground nearby, his wings broken and the engine of his back smashed. One of his glass eyepieces was cracked and it appeared there were dents all over the armor. Yet, the man still retained consciousness as he slowly pushed himself up. "Ohhh, that didn't feel good," he said woozily.

That was when he saw J'onn and he seemed to light up. Quickly, he brought up his flamethrower and aimed it at the Martian. "I've got you now!" he shouted.

Only to have Hawkgirl dropped down on top of him, slamming both of her feet into his back and causing him to cry out in pain. That also caused his body to arch backwards from the blow, his flamethrower pointing up to the sky, which J'onn was grateful for. It also brought the weapon within grabbing distance of Hawkgirl, who shot a hand out and grabbed the long barrel. Squeezing her hand, the shrill scream of metal was made as she shut the barrel shut and made the flamethrower unusable.

As Firefly's body relaxed, the man fully lying on the ground, he tilted his head to look at his damaged weapon. "You bitch," he seethed. "I'll get you back for—"

Hawkgirl interrupted him as she casually stepped off him, picking a leg up and swinging it forward, kicking his head to a side and knocking him out cold. "And I'll give you a concussion for your troubles," she replied snidely before looking to J'onn. "You doing okay?"

"I will be fine," J'onn assured her. "Thank you for your assistance."

"Well, looks like our plan got complicated," the Thanagarian responded, gesturing to the scene around them. "If these guys were any indication of what the Seven Men of Death are like, then I think the others may need help."

The Martian was about to nod his agreement when he remembered Superman. "You're right. I must help Superman; he's in grave danger." Turning away, he shot towards the temple entrance. He didn't hear Hawkgirl's response, but he knew she would go lend her assistance elsewhere. For now, he hoped he could reach the Kryptonian before it was too late.

The goal was to go in for a quick knockout punch; that had been working so far. Imagine Flash's surprise when Griffin leaped up into the air, dodging the red-clad man as he raced by harmlessly, arm extended out due to his missed punch.

Retracting his arm, Flash kept running, making a U-turn a short distance away. By the time he was turned around, his opponent was falling back to the ground, facing the Fastest Man Alive with an arm extended out to his side. It was a weird look, but it was about then that Flash caught sight of three spinning ninja's stars practically on top of him.

""cuse me," he couldn't help but say as he jerked his head to a side, dodging one of the stars. Fortunately, the other two were off to his right and out of reach so he didn't worry about them. What he did focus on was Griffin landing back on the ground, crouching down before he began to stand back up.

This, of course, was all in slow motion to the Flash. In the blink of an eye, he was on Griffin, slamming into the man and picking him off the ground. As if the world were catching up to him, Griffin jerked back at normal speed—at least normal to Flash—hands grabbing onto the red-clad man's arms as Flash raced away from the army of ninjas.

"Alllll aboard the Flash Locomotive!" Flash quipped, running right towards a stone building. "Next stop: Painsville; population: you."

Griffin turned his head to look at the approaching building, eyes widening. Then he whipped right back around to glare at Flash. "I think not!" he shouted, shoving one of his hands in his face.

Immediately, Flash countered with his own arm, blocking his opponent's hand and shoving it to aside. "Now ain't the time to play Guess Who, Friend."

That proved very good for Flash as a green lightning bolt fired from Griffin's hand, striking the ground behind the two and sending an explosion of dirt flying into the air. "Whoa!" Flash exclaimed, pulling away from the sudden blast. This also caused him to veer away from the building he was running at, running along next to it and its neighbors. "Careful with that, you'll put someone's eye out with that!"

Griffin smirked at him as he raised his other than, more of those ninja stars. "That's the idea," he said snarkily.

While Flash expected the guy to try stabbing him with the shooting stars, he was surprised to see them break apart right in the hooded man's hand. Letting them go, the pieces of the stars pelted Flash in the face. Normally this wouldn't be a problem except he was was moving at the speed of sound and the metal pieces had begun slowing down their velocity the moment Griffin let go of them.

So as you can imagine, they hurt.

"Ahhhh!" Flash cried out as he let go of Griffin, shooting both hands to his face. Griffin ended up being brushed off to his side and what happened after that wasn't the red-clad man's concern. What was was the stinging pain in his face—seriously, that crap hurt!

And it was because of that, he didn't see the small, lonely rock in front of him. It was the only rock of its kind, not another one clear across the plaza. It was just barely sticking out of the ground, maybe an inch or two, so not very much.

So naturally, Flash ended up tripping over it.

"Woooaaahhhhhh!" the red-clad screamed as he was flung forward and crashed head first into the ground. Due to how fast he was going, he ended up skidding across it for a long damn time until he slowed to a stop. Man, what was it with him and getting his beautiful face hurt today? "Owww," he groaned as he slowly pushed himself up. At least his mask took the brunt of the damage, otherwise he'd be having to call in a few sick days.

Of course, when a guy's down, always leave it up to the bad guy to kick you while you're down—or in this case, hit you with a bolt of lightning while cackling with glee. Flash didn't hear the actually laughter, but he definitely felt the electricity hit him right in the back. A scream burst out of his mouth as he was shocked with 1.21 gigawatts of pain. Maybe Doc Brown would've come up with a better description, but all Flash was concerned with was that...it...hurt!

And then, mercifully, it ended, leaving Flash lying on the ground as smoke wafted off his body. A moan left his lips as he lay in the dirt, breathing ragged as he tried to recover.

"You know, I wasn't sure that I'd hit you when we first met," Griffin's voice called out. "But thanks to my eyesight, I was able to pick out when you started moving and based my actions there."

Okay, so, this guy had good vision? And he could jump really high. And shoot those lightning bolts. And break apart ninja stars in his hand. This guy was just a jumble of random abilities wasn't he? Wonder what else he had, super smelling? Well, Gryffindor here wasn't the only one with other powers.

Slowly turning his body so he could look behind him, Flash saw Griffin standing nearby, looking all pompous and stuff. "So, what else you got in your grabbag of abilities? Other than never needing reading glasses?"

That caused the hooded man to scowl. "If I wanted to, I could break every bone in your body. Would you like that?"

Oh boy, another strong guy. Seriously, did everyone have that power nowadays? Supes had a lot of people creeping in on his strongman territory. Good thing there were only so many speedsters around.

And with that thought, Flash shot off the ground, taking off to his left before cutting left again. If Griffin was right about seeing him, then he undoubtedly was following Flash with his eyes. Well, let's see if he could see him after this. Running, the red-clad man began circling his opponent, kicking up dirt and dust in his wake. All the while, he saw Griffin staring at him until he jerked his head away, then again, and again. Ha! Lost him! Now…

Cutting away from his circle, Flash lashed out at Griffin, slamming his fist into the man's face and sending him flying off his feet and flying over several yards before crashing into the ground. Coming to a stop and casually shaking his head, Flash then crossed his arms over his chest, keeping his body relaxed. As the dirt cloud behind him dissipated, he watched Griffin slowly push himself on to his feet, though he was clearly feeling that punch Flash had given him.

"So, looks like you're not the only one with more than one power," Flash called out to him. "I guess I didn't tell ya I have a quite recovery time."

Back on his feet, Griffin turned to glare at the Fastest Man Alive. "That...will be the last blow you ever land on me."

Flash shot him a smirk. "I always did like a challenge."

Steel struck each other, filling the air with a familiar chime. Over and over, two blades struck each other, one always blocking the other. The wielders circled each other, one of which would drive in for a strike, only for it to be defended and parried to a side.

Sadly, the Detective had been on the offense for a majority of this showdown. While it was better than having to be attacked, all of his attacks had been effectively stopped by the Master and pushed aside; the Master had yet to launch a counterattack, content in allowing the black-clad man to attack to his heart's content.

In all of the sword duels the Detective had the pleasure of experiencing, this was the second with the Master and the first that the stakes were of such heights. The first had been a mere spar, where the Demon's Head had defeated him much like this, toying with his every strike before leaping at an opening when he was good and ready. No one had of yet defeated the black-clad man in such fashion before or hence.

Pulling back, he continued the steady circle he and the Master walked, keeping both of his hands on the sword hilt, the point aimed at his opponent's chest. In turn, the Master held his sword with one hand, body at a side in comparison to his frontward pose.

"You look tired, Detective," the Master spoke then. "Surely you still have more fight in you."

The Detective bared his teeth. He wanted to strike again, but held his stance, still carefully stepping around the circle. It was becoming quickly apparent the Master was just trying to wear him out before going for the killing stroke. That was fine, he would take advantage of this pause in the action and regroup, recovering his strength and breath while he considered a different tactic.

"Is that a no? They perhaps I should make the next move."

Those words surprised him, but he was ready when the Master came at him, closing the distance between them with a thrust. In response, the Detective batted the sword point away, seeing an opening in the Master's defense. Without hesitation, he swung his sword forward, looking to slice open his opponent's chest.

With the twist and flicking of his wrist, the Master somehow got his blade between him and the Detective's blade, blocking and then parrying it. However, unlike the last time, the Master counterattacked, swiping his sword through the air and scrapping the point against his chest armor.

Instinct reared it's head in the Detective's head. Immediately, he swung his blade again, attempting another slash, yet again found the Master's sword much faster than his, blocking and parrying the blow.

However, instead of using his sword for another strike, the Master lunged at him, turning his body as he swung his empty fist up and landed an uppercut to the black-clad man's chin, snapping his head back. Dazed, he was left open for the Master to raise his leg and lash out with it, landing a hard kick to his abdomen. Instantly, his ribs screamed as searing pain raced through him. Damn it, he'd almost forgotten about his injured ribs. Backing away, the dark-clad man tried to regroup, an arm covering his tender body as he held his blade with one hand.

"You appear to be injured there," the Master observed, retaking his stance, his tone disapproving. "How foolish of you to think you could slay me with such a handicap."

He was right, it was foolish to attempt a coup against a man with centuries of combat experience under his belt when not at one hundred percent strength. The Detective would worry about that later though, it didn't change anything. He would just have to divert the Master's following attacks at a more tempting target.

Raising his free hand up, he grabbed the edge of his helmet and forced it off, revealing his sweat-covered face and shellacked dark hair. Tossing it to a side, he regarded his opponent with a heated stare. Surely the Demon's head couldn't resist going for a head strike. "It's not a handicap if you still beat your opponent," he grunted back.

"If that's what you believe." Again, the Master launched himself with lightning quick movements, the same thrust as before going right for the Detective's face. In response, the black-clad man shot his free arm up, using the tri-blades on his gauntlet to catch the blade, feeling the sword's edge scrape against the metal. Once more the Master was wide open, but this time he wouldn't be able to save himself with his sword. Letting out a war cry, the Detective swung his own weapon, the Master jumping backward to avoid it.

As his arm finished its swing though, the Detective dashed in, ramming his opponent with his shoulder and shoving the hilt of his sword against the man's ribs. A hiss came from the Master's immortal lips before he jumped away again, this time pulling his sword free and holding it between them. "A solid blow," he complimented the dark-haired man, "yet, it is a missed opportunity for you."

The Detective held back a derisive snort. Just from looking at the Master's breathing pattern, his body slam and the hilt jab to the ribs had winded him. This fight was far from over.

Holding back, he waited for the Master to make his next move. He too could play the waiting game and he wasn't disappointed when his opponent went at him.

This time, however, the Master came in with a slash, to which he blocked and parried. It was reminiscent of their earlier clash and the Detective was ready to take advantage. His eyes widened when he noticed the Master's sword whipped through the air until it was between the two men, point aimed directly at him before he could even attempt to counter. Dodging to a side, he avoided the Master's trust, only to have to drop his own blade down, holding it vertically to catch the sudden swing his opponent sent right from the extended position.

Surprisingly, the moment their blades clash, it was actually soft in comparison to their previous strikes. So astonished, he was left in a daze when the Master pulled his sword away and arced it up into the air, swinging it down towards the Detective's head. Maneuvering his sword, he blocked the high strike, eyes focused on the blade.

That was when he felt a solid blow in his ribs again, the Master slamming his foot into his body and sending him stumbling backwards. The Detective managed to catch his balance before he went tumbling into one of the pools, one with a tall rock formation in it. He had only broken eye contact with his opponent to make sure how much ground he had behind him, so he knew which way he had to dodge depending the Master's strike.

As it turned out, the next strike was a thrust. The Detective found that out when he turned his head and immediately felt a sword pierce through his armor and run through him.

A gasp tore from his lips, a sense of disbelief covering his face before his body acknowledged the foreign pieces of steel entering his abdomen and exiting out his back. Slightly dazed, he looked down and confirmed the sword hilt and a portion of the bottom of the sword sticking out of him. Blood was leaking out, flowing over the steel and dripping off to the ground below.

"As I recall, when you requested this armor, you wished it were made of multiple plates instead of one continuous piece," his Master's voice spoke, slowly beginning to fade. A mysterious warmth began welling up inside of the Detective, dulling his senses. "For mobility and flexibility, I believe you said. Of course, in order for that, there had to be some separation between the plates. How...unfortunate for you."

The blade dug into him, which sent an excruciating amount of pain racing through his body, forcing the Detective to awaken from the warm, dull feeling that had been washing over him. "It really is a misfortune, you ending this way," the Master continued to lament. "I had such high hopes for you and like all of my other followers, you disappoint me at the end."

He then leaned closer to the Detective's head, mouth next to his ear so the Demon's Head could whisper his next words. "Do not fear though, I will not snatch the life out of my daughter. She will live long after your demise; yet, I must teach her to be wary of whom she gives her allegiance to. That is a lesson that appears to be needed once more."

Pulling away, the Master's voice raised as he declared, "Though you go to meet your fate, know that you will at least serve me once last time." Then, in one fluid movement, the Master raised his leg and pressed it right beneath his sword. With a push, he kicked the Detective back, pulling his sword free and leaving the black-clad man to fall into the pool behind him. The water swallowed him whole, splashing up before falling back down.

Slowly, the Detective sank further and further from the surface, his mind beginning to shut down. The blue waters around him were beginning to mix with the red of his blood, creating a rather colorful image before his failing eyes. Had he been in any other situation, he would've paused to admire it for a moment; right now all he could think of was his last, stinging defeat.

That would be the last thought he ever had as a searing, scorching feeling ignited within and around his body. His vision turning a fiery blue as he felt flames erupt from his eyes and out of his mouth. So this was his end, the closing act of the Demon's Head's Detective.

How...regretful...