Vicious Circle

By evolution-500

Genres: Horror/Tragedy

Feedback: Always welcome

WARNING: This story contains violence, coarse language and mature themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Disclaimer: "Killer Instinct" is a property belonging to Rareware and Microsoft while "Injustice" is a property owned by NetherRealm Studios and Warner Bros. I do not own these characters.

"The scariest monsters are the ones that lurk within our souls."

- Edgar Allan Poe

The pain was unbearable, gnawing at him constantly.

Glowing green eyes peeled open as Baron Konrad Von Sabrewulf dazedly winced at the surgical lamp that shone directly over him, its light blinding him. Twisting his lupine features, he made a series of grimaces as nausea set in, resisting the urge to wretch.

Looking dazedly around, the Baron struggled to stay awake, his bleary vision having trouble adjusting as he faded in and out of consciousness.

Once or twice he heard some mutterings, and occasionally he would spot white phantom-like visions flitting across his vision whenever he awoke.

Once or twice, Konrad had uttered a bestial scream, but pain was a constant presence, an unwelcome companion that visited him often.

When he finally regained consciousness, he found himself alone in a white prison cell, lying spread-eagled on a long gurney, his furry bare-shaped chest rising and falling with every painful breath he took. Every part of him ached and burned, the agony so overwhelming that he wanted it all to end.

It was then that he suddenly became aware of something odd.

'My arms! Why-Why can't I-'

Something was wrong. Something was horribly, horribly wrong!

Turning his head ever so slowly to the side, Konrad dreaded to see what greeted him.

When he finally saw the abominable work on him, he became completely still, his mind struggling to process what he was seeing as he gazed upon his "limb".

Flesh, fur and bone had been entirely stripped away, replaced with a series of interlocked steel plates riveted together into a newly-created "arm". But what made it even more abominable to Konrad, insulting even, though, were the six-inch metallic talons that had been welded at the tips of his "fingers".

Staring at the metal claws, a feeling of loathing and resentment formed within the aristocrat as he regarded his new "limbs", his blood boiling with fury, his body wracked with pain.

'Bastards!' He growled. 'Those fucking-!'

Clenching his teeth, he agitatedly flared his nostrils, wanting to lash out, wanting to curse - no, scream - in indignant rage.

As Konrad struggled within his restraints, his long pointed ears suddenly twitched as he heard footsteps approaching, causing him to freeze.

He listened to the footfalls as they came closer, until finally they stopped just outside his door.

"Hello, Sergeant," he heard an all-too familiar voice speak, the voice causing his pulse to race, his body tensing.

"Sir!" He heard a guard salute outside, his voice distorted by the gasmask's filter.

"How is the prisoner doing?"

"He's been quiet, sir," Konrad heard the masked guard answer, "but from the sounds of it, he's just starting to wake up."

"Is he secure?"

"He's strapped down and sedated. Buuuut, if he starts giving us trouble..." He then heard the distinctive crackling of a stun baton, making the lycanthrope clench his teeth.

"Try to lay off on that if you can," the other voice warned. "He has been through enough already."

"Yes sir."

He heard movement outside his cell. "I want to see him."

There came a lengthy pause as everyone seemed to nervously shuffle about.

"Sir, are-are you sure about this? He's tried to attack you!"

"Is he secure?"

"W-Well yeah, but-"

"Then it should be fine," the man calmly replied, his voice firm. "Let me in. I want to speak with him."

Konrad clenched his teeth, his nostrils rapidly flaring as he turned his head toward the door, his entire form on edge as he was forced to watch his cell door open.

Stepping into the room with his tall and powerfully-built frame, his captor stood before him, his eyes taking Konrad in.

Turning over to the guard, the man nodded, "Leave us."

"But sir-"

"I said leave us," the man ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Flinching at the sight, the Regime soldier hastily closed the cell door and left, his pace quickening away.

Turning back to face him, the man coolly regarded him with a look of mild curiosity. Meeting his gaze, Konrad took the time to observe the man before him.

He had seen him in numerous magazines and newspapers throughout the years, even had seen him flying once or twice overhead, but the man that stood before Konrad now couldn't be any more of a departure from the man that he had once looked up to.

The man's once gentle sky blue costume was now a darker shade of blue, almost purple, like skin swelling with rage. The red hues of his costume had grown far more prominent and aggressive than they had been previously, with sharp, angular shoulder pads accentuating his already intimidating figure, making it seem far more authoritarian.

The 'S' on his costume was still there, but like the shoulder pads, it too along with its shield had grown longer, sharper and redder, as if the rage within the man's heart was now physically manifesting itself and violently bleeding out onto his outfit, staining it.

Raising his eyes, Konrad found himself staring into the Man of Steel's striking blue orbs, struck by their coldness.

It was hard to believe that this very person had been one of the kindest and most beloved superheroes of all time.

Now, he seemed like a shell of his former self.

The two of them stared at one another for a long time, neither one saying a word.

Finally, Superman cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "You know," he began, "I have seen a lot of strange things throughout my life. I have fought aliens, monsters, dimensional beings, demons, Greek gods..." He tilted his head curiously. "I have never encountered a werewolf before. You are probably the first one that I've ever met."

Konrad gave a derisive snort. "Lucky me."

The former hero quirked a curious brow. "Aren't you able to change back to your human form?"

The Baron rolled his eyes. "That fucking Hollywood bullshit doesn't apply to my condition. Nein, it's a genetic disorder. I've been like this since my thirties."

"Is that right?"

"Ja. It was something that I inherited from my family. There was no bite, scratch or curse. Just...something that I ended up inheriting." Konrad muttered the last part, almost to himself.

"Oh. I didn't realize." The two awkwardly regarded each other as they both struggled to find what to say. Folding his arms behind his back, Superman then cleared his throat again, "...How...how are you feeling?"

The former CEO of Ultratech growled. "Like shit, thank you very much," he answered, his tone dripping acidly.

"Hm." Unbothered by the remark, his captor then glanced at the cybernetic limbs, continuing, "How do you like your cybernetic implants?"

Konrad bared his teeth, his growl deepening. "Why don't you try them on for yourself and tell me? I can make a suggestion or two in terms of where you can put them."

Superman frowned. "Mind your manners, Baron. It wasn't easy getting those attached - Cyborg had a lot of work cut out for him. Connecting the wiring to the nerves is no easy feat. You were lucky we were able to get you treated."

"Was I now?" Konrad remarked, his tone bored.

"Yes. You would have died of shock if it wasn't for us," the Man of Steel replied as his eyes hardened into a glare, "so if I were you, Baron, I would be a little more grateful and appreciative."

"For what?!" The Baron spat. "For your lasering my arms off? Your taking my company away from me? Or for your sticking these ungodly contraptions onto my person without my consent?!"

"Considering that you tried to attack me, Baron, I was perfectly justified in defending myself."

The aristocrat barked back a laugh. "Please. My claws against your bulletproof skin?" Sabrewulf drawled, looking unimpressed and unsympathetic. "Everything ricochets off of you without leaving so much as a dent - what kind of damage could you possibly expect from a werewolf?"

Superman shrugged. "That's just the thing, Baron - I don't. This has been my first time fighting a werewolf, after all. You were also using magic, Baron. Dark magic, according to Raven, the likes of which we have never seen before."

"And so your first inclination is to laser off my arms," Konrad said flatly. "Never mind the various ways you could have subdued me, because God knows, I just might have been able to scrape off a particle of dust from your suit. Wouldn't want that now, would we?" He harrumphed. "Even if I were able to attempt that, it still wouldn't wash away all the blood from your hands, Superman."

Tightening his fists, the Man of Steel's eyes glowed red, his jaw and mouth clenching.

Konrad waited for the coming blow, anticipating his blissful and hopeful escape from his agony.

Unfortunately, his prayers were never answered.

Folding his arms together, Superman gave him a harsh glare. "You are one to talk, Baron. Who are you to judge me? Your record isn't what I would call spotless either. Do I need to remind you? Your illegal experiments, those creatures that you've been housing in your mansion, your televised martial arts program, the people that died in it..." He then leaned forward, "You are in absolutely no position to gloat, so don't think that you have the moral high ground."

Sabrewulf scoffed. "And yet between us, I end up having the moral high ground regardless, especially considering the scores of people that you and your Regime have killed, the various atrocities that you have committed."

He watched the red eyes burn with fury, looking ready to be unleashed. "I'm warning you, Baron - one more word-"

"Or what?!" Konrad challenged, glaring back in defiance. "Go on, Superman. Do it. Finish me."

The two stared each other down, their gazes never wavering.

Finally, the Man of Steel shifted his eyes away, shaking his head. "I'm not going to kill you, Baron," he answered. "That would be too merciful."

The Baron snorted. "So you're going to torture me instead to show what a big man you are." He barked a harsh laugh. "Hard to believe that I had looked up to you. Hard to believe that I, along with everyone else in the world, had believed in you."

Despite the stoic expression he gave, Konrad sensed that the words had stung the Man of Steel. He waited for him to retaliate. For a brief moment, it almost seemed as if Superman was considering killing right then and there.

To his dismay, the Kryptonian looked away and wearily shook his head in incredulity. "Do you really have that much of a death wish, Baron?"

Konrad said nothing, keeping silent as his captor looked back to face him again, his eyes searching his.

Closing them, Superman sighed, "I don't understand you, Baron. What happened to you? You used to be one of the most powerful men in the world, right next to Lex Luthor and-" He then cut himself off, his mouth clenching as his face darkened. Even though he didn't say the man's name, the mere thought of his former friend turned enemy, it had seemed, was enough to make him bitter.

Taking a deep breath, the Man of Steel sighed again as he shook his head and settled himself into a chair beside the gurney, "You had to have known that televising your science experiments in broad daylight, forcing them to fight each other in your Killer Instinct tournament and selling them off to the highest bidder wasn't exactly the best of ideas out there. You had to have known that it was bound to have attracted my attention sooner or later. It was a wonder that the FBI hadn't gotten involved before I had."

He then clasped his hands together, "What made you do it? What happened?"

Looking up to the ceiling, Konrad considered the question, then breathed. "...Being a werewolf is not all that's cracked up to be," he answered. "None of that shit about full moons or transformations is remotely true. I wasn't bitten or scratched by a wolf. I wasn't drinking from some animal's paw print. I didn't practice witchcraft. I didn't fuck an animal or piss off a god. I didn't eat human flesh - none of that." He squirmed, "It starts with an ache in your bones and muscles. At first, you just shrug it off and tell yourself that it's just a result of you getting older. That it would go away."

He shifted uncomfortably, "But...it doesn't go away. You then start to notice the changes in the senses. Sight. Smell. Hearing. Touch. Taste. It's not an instantaneous transformation like in the films; like all changes to the body as you get older, it is slow and gradual. When I turned thirty-five, I ended up unable to move, for my legs were undergoing a very, very painful change. I had to lie in bed for hours and shit into a bedpan because of how painful the change was. I tried Tylenol, I tried painkillers, alcohol. Sometimes I tried different combinations." He scoffed in derision, "I even tried a fucking treatment involving silver since a lot of the stories and media out there suggested that werewolves were vulnerable to it." He then gave a harsh, rueful laugh as he eyed his blue fur and skin, "You can see the results for yourself."

Sabrewulf then let out a tired, sad sigh, "As you get older, you start to lose little pieces of yourself. Little bits of your memory. Parts of you that make up you. I've seen the same thing happen to my father."

Superman blinked. "Your father?"

"Ja," Sabrewulf nodded, "Many, many years ago. He had always kept himself locked away in of our castle when I was a child. We didn't have what you would call a warm relationship. I only knew that he had a condition, but what it had been, I hadn't known at the time. It was only when I was fifteen that I learned the truth. He was...he was locked in the dungeon of our castle, frothing at the mouth and completely unrecognizable. When he attempted to attack me...my...my butler...had to put him down."

He watched Superman's features as they softened, his shoulders sagging. "I'm sorry about your father."

The former CEO of Ultratech shrugged. "It was a long time ago. Still...thank you." As he recalled that horrible day, Konrad shivered. "That day...changed...everything for me. I didn't want to end up like my father. I swore that I would never be like him, a chained-up beast that would mindlessly kill and shit itself. I would rather die than be faced with that humiliation. I may not be perfect, nor am I a good person, but...I am not going to let some government body or agent tell me that it's alright for me to lose my mind! I have as much of a right to save myself as does the next person! Are I entitled to happiness like everyone else?!"

Sabrewulf's exclamations echoed hollowly through the cell.

Superman said and did nothing other than merely observe the strapped-down werewolf as the latter relaxed.

Closing his eyes, the Baron then took a deep breath and let out long, tired exhale, looking exhausted, "Somewhere along the way...I...I ended up...lost. In my quest to save my own soul...I found myself swept up and swallowed by a tidal wave of darkness. Something...obscene. Something so terrible that..."

Glancing over at the Man of Steel, Sabrewulf regarded the former hero-turned-tyrant with watery eyes and a trembling lower lip, "You ask me why I hold the tournament?" He shifted in discomfort, "I suppose...part of it was because...I...I had...wanted...to be caught. Had been hoping...praying...for someone to respond. That you...that you would save me." He watched as Superman hesitated, looking caught off-guard by his answer. Sabrewulf's eyes gloomily drooped as he slowly averted his eyes, his tone low and flat, full of bitterness and resignation, "But...I'm afraid that it's too late for me now. There is no salvation for me. Not after everything that's happened. I am beyond saving."

He watched Superman as his stoicism cracked, just ever so slightly. Running a hand along his mouth, the Kryptonian let out a world-weary sigh, nodding to himself as the mask slipped, leaving exposed a tired man who looked much older than his appearance suggested.

"I've...I've done things that I'm not proud of either," he admitted, looking as if the strain of having the world on his shoulders for so long was becoming too much for him. "The man that I was would be ashamed of what I've become now."

"You and me both," Sabrewulf nodded in agreement.

Both man and beast shared a quiet moment of contemplation as they reminisced on the days of yesteryear, when life had seemed so bright and full of hope.

So much promise.

So much optimism.

It was hard to believe that a lifetime ago both men had been so young and innocent once upon a time, only for life to throw a cruel curveball that ended up upending everything, leading them both down on a dark path that they both seemed to share.

Looking up to the Man of Steel, Sabrewulf tilted his head curious, "Is it true what they say about you on the news? That you are the last surviving member of Planet Krypton and that the "S" on your uniform is your family crest?"

Superman nodded, causing the werewolf to grunt in acknowledgment.

"It seems we have that in common as well," he muttered thoughtfully. "I am the only member of the Sabrewulf family left. Once I'm gone, the Sabrewulf name will die with me."

The Kryptonian gave him a curious look. "Don't you have any relatives?" He asked. "Cousins?"

Konrad shrugged. "Nein. I'm pretty sure that I do not. I'm all that's left." He then slowly and remorsefully shook his head from side to side as he lay spread-eagled on the gurney, "...It wasn't meant to turn out this way, Superman. I never...I never intended for things to have escalated this far."

Superman said nothing at first. Finally, he closed his eyes, then breathed, his shoulders sagging, "It's too late for regrets, Baron. All we can do now is go on from here."

"Hm." Falling into a deeply somber silence, the Baron clicked his tongue distractedly as he stared at the ceiling. Looking back at the former hero, Sabrewulf sighed, "What do you intend to do with me?"

He watched the Man of Steel lean back in his seat, crossing his legs as thoughtfully considered it. "We will have to perform an audit and see what other assets you've been withholding. As of right now, Ultratech will be under the Regime's direct control."

"And the creatures?"

Superman shrugged. "I can't really say at the moment. We might have to dispose of them."

Upon hearing that, Konrad closed his eyes and sighed in relief, his muscles untensing. "Good."

The Kryptonian hesitated, giving a look of surprise. "Their destruction doesn't bother you, Baron?"

The lycanthrope uttered a dark chuckle, "On the contrary. That had been the whole point of the tournament, after all - to dispose of them. I had tried everything to get rid of them, but...they always manage to survive somehow. Spinal especially."

As he recalled that particular being, he shuddered.

Superman wrinkled his brow. "Are you alright, Baron?"

"Ja. Just some...unpleasant memories."

The Man of Steel nodded, "Yes, I heard from reports that the Spinal creature is definitely unpleasant. I've read your file for him." He shook his head in disbelief, "Hard to believe that your research in cell regeneration resulted in the likes of him."

Konrad frowned. "You are...gravely mistaken. I didn't create him."

Superman blinked. "You didn't?"

"Nein. Nor Ultratech. That was a cover story an associate of mine had concocted on the fly, when it had inadvertently wandered into a shareholders' meeting." He scoffed in derision, "It was a half-assed attempt, admittedly. But nein, as far as we were able to determine, there hadn't been any human hand involved with Spinal's creation. At least, as far as I could tell. It's possible there might have been, but I wasn't able to find any evidence of such."

Intrigued, the Kryptonian took a step forward. "Tell me more."

The Baron remained silent for a long time as his body tried to adjust to the cybernetics. Electronic claws flexed, spasmed and twitched, causing the aristocrat to wince.

"Are you alright, Baron?"

Konrad grit his teeth, "Do I look alright?!"

He watched as a frown formed on the Man of Steel's face as he studied the cybernetic limbs. "Just relax, Baron. Your heart rate is too high. You just need some time to adjust to the machinery. By my calculations, the pain should be gone within a few days, but you should be able to manage until then. I'll see if I can get a doctor to treat the pain with some morphine."

Superman then narrowed his eyes. "Now, you were telling me about Spinal."

Looking away, Konrad stared up at the ceiling, licking his dry chops as he considered what to say.

How much should he tell him?

"Well?" His captor said impatiently.

Closing his eyes, Konrad exhaled in resignation.

To hell with it. If he was going to die, then might as well get it over with.

Looking back to Superman, Konrad studied him for a long time, his eyes peering deep into his.

"...I understand your pain," he finally spoke, startling the former.

Blinking perplexedly, Superman raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

Lifting his eyes up to the ceiling again, Konrad shifted on the gurney. "I saw in the newspaper that your wife had died on the same day when Metropolis was destroyed. Killed by the Joker, no less. Her, along with your unborn child."

At the mention of his lost partner, the Baron felt the very air become still.

Pushing his luck, he continued, even as Superman attempted to look away, "I've actually met Lois Lane once." Seeing the Kryptonian perk up, he then nodded thoughtfully as Superman gave him a questioning glance. "Ja. It was a long time ago, actually, but I remember her vividly. She had been conducting an interview with me about my company, and from my recollections of her, she was a bright, vibrant, charming, intelligent, kind, and beautiful woman. You were a lucky man, Mr. Kent. A very lucky man, indeed." Konrad quietly stared at his caped form, then gave a slow nod, "My condolences for your loss."

The Man of Steel said nothing at first, giving him a slightly puzzled look before clearing his throat, "Y-Yes, well...thank you."

Konrad watched as the Kryptonian uncomfortably looked around the cell.

Clicking his tongue distractedly, Superman looked back to Sabrewulf, "...Why are you bringing that up?"

Konrad gave him a steady look, his features filled with regret. "Thinking about it now, I...I can't help...feeling...responsible for what had happened."

The Man of Steel gave a surprised scoff, "Why? It had been the Joker. You didn't have anything to do with him." He then gave a suspicious look, "...Did you?"

Now it was Konrad's turn to scoff. "Please. Like I would associate myself with a clown." As Superman turned away, the lycanthrope then squirmed in discomfort. "And yet...thinking it over...I..." He sighed, "I think I might have been wrong in my estimations of how much damage I've inflicted on you. it is my belief...that...that I may have...inadvertently...played a part in Lois' death without even knowing. Without even realizing."

Rearing his head back, the Man of Steel whipped around, startled by the admission. "What?! What are you talking about?"

Sabrewulf raised his eyes to the ceiling, uncomfortable by the intense look that the former hero was giving him.

"...For the record," he began slowly, "...not all of the creatures...were experiments." He then cleared his throat, "It all began a few years ago, at an auction in Austria. I had been looking for artifacts of potential value, partially for the purposes of claiming some sort of tax benefit, and partially because, well..." He sighed, his shoulders sagging, "part of me wanted to believe that there was an artifact out there that had some miraculous healing properties that could help with my condition. It was foolish, I know, but..."

The Baron wearily shook his bluish-grey wolf-like head, looking embarrassed by the admission, "I kind of figured that...well...given the likes of you and your Justice League, there was bound to be something out there that would help me. It was there at the auction that I came across an artifact, an old Mesopotamian mask. Only...this...particular...artifact...it didn't solve my problems. Instead, it made things worse. So, so, SO much worse. It was Spinal that...that kickstarted everything. The first time he had appeared on my program...it...it had caught all of us off-guard. We had no idea where it came from."

Closing his eyes, he sadly sighed. "A lot of people died that day. A lot of good people."

Inhaling deeply, the werewolf noisily exhaled through his nose as he continued, "Once we were able to contain that little shit and that...that..." he shuddered, "...shield...I set out to figure out what it was. Where it came from. I traded in a lot of favors, but...the more I dug, the more I started to dread."

He then turned his lupine features back to Superman, his eyes meeting his. "I will tell you everything that I know."


The prison cell was still as Kal-El quietly absorbed the information.

He thought that nothing would surprise him, that he had seen and heard everything.

And yet, despite the immensity of his own intellect, despite the years of experience packed under his belt, part of him had trouble comprehending the dark knowledge that he was given.

He learned of dark things older than time that lurked beyond the threshold of reality.

Things that, from the Baron's descriptions, made the likes of Doomsday, Darkseid, Trigon and Lobo seem nothing more than mild annoyances in comparison.

Things so ancient and powerful that merely gazing upon them would drive a person mad.

Kal-El listened to the werewolf and his tale of woe, too rapt in his story to even interrupt.

So much horror...

When the Baron was finally finished, Kal-El straightened up and turned his back away, his mind still trying to absorb this new information.

If what Konrad said was true...then Lois...

Repressing a shudder, Kal-El willed himself to meet the eyes of his captive's.

"W-What makes you so sure that it was him?" he asked. "What makes you sure that-that Spinal had anything to do with this? With any of this?"

"I know it's him," the Baron answered with grim certainty. "Ever since he entered my tournament, that little bastard has brought forth all manner of fucked-up things to my doorstep. It is because of him that the creatures have been appearing in my home. It is because of him that my tournament turned into this...mockery." He then gave a sad look, his tone faltering, "It is because of him that...that all of the people that I care about...are now gone."

Sabrewulf slowly shook his lupine head, his eyes full of regret, "I don't deny my part in this travesty. I had thought the tournament and television program would be the perfect means to dispose of him and his kind. The perfect means to dispose of myself. After all, what was one more dead monster on television? Countless creatures have perished on the silver screen, after all, big AND small. Only..." He swallowed, "he has managed to subvert my expectations."

For a moment, Kal-El felt the tiniest glimmers of pity for his prisoner.

Almost.

The tiny glimmers faded as he hardened himself, the Man of Steel glaring down at the strapped-down werewolf. "If what you say is true...if you knew the danger posed by these creatures...why would you sell them? Why didn't you destroy them when you had the chance?!"

The Baron shrugged. "Truthfully," he said slowly, "it was a combination of things. I have tried destroying them, but...they just refuse to die. Do you have any idea how long I have tried for? Every attempt at disposal resulted in failure. Every attempt at killing them resulted in more deaths. Containment for them was equally costly. Eventually..." He sighed, "I became tired. I am so fucking tired of looking after them. I'm tired of dealing with their messes. I just wanted to be rid of them. Let them be someone else's problem. It's a selfish and irresponsible thing for me to say, I know, but...what choice did I have?"

Kal-El continued to give him a harsh stare, unmoved. "There is always a choice, Baron."

Sabrewulf grunted. "Perhaps. Then again, we'll never know. On the bright side, though, at least they won't be my problem anymore. The Regime can deal with their shit now. I'm finished with this."

The prison cell was silent save for the heartrate monitor as it continued to beep, the lycanthrope's blue fur-covered chest rising and falling with every breath.

Getting up from his seat, Superman cleared his throat, "I'll come back to speak with you later."

Taking a step toward the door, he suddenly heard Sabrewulf speak, "He is using it for his own twisted ends."

Stopping, Kal-El curiously looked over his shoulder, "Who?"

"Spinal," the former aristocrat clarified. "He's been weaponizing my tournament, turning it into a ritual as a way to bring in his masters from beyond."

The metallic claws flexed in agitation, his limbs spasming.

Wincing, he continued, "I have been able to contain them as best as I can, but Spinal's influence is growing greater with each passing moment. He has perverted my company. My tournament. The people that I cared about...my good intentions...he has...taken...everything from me..."

Trailing off, the Baron then lifted his eyes back to the Kryptonian's, his eyes full of worry and urgency, "But even worse...it is my belief that...through my tournament and program...he has been perverting you as well. You, and the other members of the Justice League."

Kal-El hesitated, startled by the admission.

"Ja, it's true," Sabrewulf excitedly nodded. "It was him who caused Lois' death. He destroyed Metropolis. He killed your wife and child. He used the Joker to get to you, and now he is twisting you for his own ends. Getting inside your head, little by little, corrupting you. He no longer sees me as useful - I played my part, but you?! I believe that little shit has been trying to get his hands on you!"

"Why?" The Man of Steel asked, uncertain where this was going. "What makes you so sure?"

Sabrewulf shook his head. "I'm not, in all honesty," the Baron replied. "That being said, though...one of the things that I have noticed about him over the years was that...whenever the television was played in front of him, he would always stare fixedly at you whenever you appeared on the news. It was something that I observed many times, something that I found rather puzzling, but I admittedly hadn't given it much thought at the time. Perhaps he fancies your cape? Your choice of clothing?" The werewolf shrugged, "I don't know. I have no idea what goes on in his head. What is clear to me, though, is that Spinal is involved...somehow. He is the reason why things have ended up being the way that they are now. Why you are the way you are now. I believe he sees within you the key to releasing those dark powers he serves. That he craves your power."

Staring perplexedly at the captive before him, Kal-El's initial reaction was to disregard this nonsense.

And yet...he couldn't.

Part of him uneasily digested his points, contemplating this information.

Was it...possible...?

More and more, he started to see a pattern emerge before him, all the pieces falling into alignment like a jigsaw puzzle. Even worse, the Baron was starting to make a certain amount of sense.

A look of melancholy came over the werewolf's face as he lay on the gurney before him. Looking up at him, Kal-El saw a look of pure, overwhelming sorrow and regret.

"...I..." he spoke in a hushed voice, "...I never meant for any of this to happen. I wish I had contacted the Justice League directly when I had the chance. If only I hadn't been such a fucking coward. Maybe if I had turned myself in sooner none of this would have happened. Maybe you and Batman would have found a way to rid the world of these creatures, of Spinal."

Taking in a deep breath, Sabrewulf sighed, "Superman...Clark..." Hearing his human name, Kal-El blinked, startled as he continued to listen to what the werewolf had to say, "...For what it's worth...I'm...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for my part in all of this. My selfishness and pride has cost you everything." Konrad shook his head, looking emotionally exhausted, "I don't expect you to forgive me. If you want to kill me, I won't stop you from doing so. You would perfectly justified to do so. I deserve to die. I am old, and I am tired of living. Just...promise me that you will destroy Spinal. Promise me...that you won't use it as a weapon or tool. He is too dangerous to live. He has to be destroyed."

Kal-El stared at the strapped-down werewolf for a long time, his mind a whirlpool of emotions.

In his mind's eye, he saw Lois and the various friends he had lost throughout the years, the various people he had killed.

Part of him wanted to throw up. Part of him wanted to yell - no, scream - at the top of his lungs all of his pain and rage.

Part of him wanted to curse Sabrewulf aloud, if not laser him, while an even darker part of him wanted to do more.

Sweeping a pair of trembling hands through his dark hair, Kal-El let out a shaky breath as he tried to keep it all in, his head pounding as he considered the dark and terrifying possibilities.

He needed to get out of here. He needed to clear his head and think this over.

"We will talk later, Baron," Kal-El said in a restrained tone as he turned back to the entrance of the cell, trying to keep nausea from setting in. "Guard."

"Promise me that you will destroy Spinal!" Sabrewulf demanded. "Promise me that you won't use it as a weapon or tool! He needs to be destroyed! Do you hear me?! He needs to be destroyed!"

"Guard," Kal-El called, his face damp with sweat.

"You have to destroy him, Superman!" The werewolf pleaded. "Please, for all that is holy, please destroy him before it is too late!"

"Guard!"

"I'm begging you, Superman, please don't give in to him! Save yourself before he takes any more away from you like he had with me!"

Wringing his hands together, Kal-El struggled against the urge to rip off the door with his bare hands. "GUARD!"

"Sir!" The moment the door opened, the Kryptonian pushed past the armored Regime soldier, almost knocking him over.

Turning on his heel, Kal-El hurried down the hallway

"YOU HAVE TO STOP HIM!" He heard the werewolf cry from his cell. "PLEASE, SUPERMAN, DESTROY HIM BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE!"


"Do you believe him?"

Kal-El sat in his private quarters within the Fortress of Solitude, the white-on-white crystalline overlapping quartz structures glistening around him.

Sweeping a hand through his short dark hair, the last son of Krypton shook his head, "I...I don't know, Diana. He seemed pretty certain. He genuinely seems remorseful for what's happened." He then offered a glanced to his newest partner, his eyes roaming along the contours of her lithe though muscular form. "What do you make of what he says? Do you think there's any truth to any of it?"

He watched as Diana contemplated the question. Brushing a strand of hair over her shoulder, the Amazon shrugged. "I wouldn't put too much stock in what he says. To tell you the truth, Clark, he sounds like a madman." She then looked curiously in his direction, "You aren't seriously giving weight to what he's saying, are you?"

He shook his head in denial, "No, Diana, I'm not...but...at the same time, though...part of me...can't help wondering if it's true. If there are larger powers at play out there that have been manipulating us without anyone being aware of it." Staring to the crystalline floor, he clenched his fists. "Every night, I can't help wondering how things could have been different. If I had let someone else find Lois before I had..."

As he trailed off, a feeling of melancholy came over the Man of Steel as he stared at his hands, wondering how many lives he had taken over the years.

"Have we...have we been...someone's pawns without even realizing?"

"No," Diana said certainly. "That's just crazy talk. Don't let Sabrewulf's madness consume you, Kal. We are our own masters - nobody has control over us."

Feeling slightly relieved, Kal-El closed his eyes as he released his breath, his muscles untensing.

Hearing the bed creak beside, he watched and felt a warm hand placed over his own, gently caressing his.

"It's okay, Clark," Diana whispered into his ear. "It's okay. It's only natural for you think about her...and...how things could have been done differently."

Pulling her hand from his, the Amazon cupped his cheek, her lips lightly brushing against it as she gave a feather-light peck. "Let me take away your pain."

Leaning forward, the two embraced, pulling each other into a deep, passionate kiss.


He couldn't sleep at all.

Lying on awake in his bed, his form covered by white sheets, Clark found himself pondering those same troubling questions about his fate, wondering if it could have been averted.

Looking over to his lover, Clark quietly regarded Diana as she peacefully slept beside him, his eyes softening at the sight of her.

'Poor Diana,' he thought.

Her long dark hair was a tangled mess, her skin slicked with sweat from countless hours of love-making.

Planting a soft kiss on her forehead, Clark watched her stir slightly, the Amazon mumbling something incomprehensible in her sleep.

Taking her hand into his, he gave it a gentle squeeze as he brushed his fingers against hers.

Sighing softly, he then got up from the bed and carefully drew up the covers over her bare shoulders, then started to get dressed.

Time for some answers.


The gurney violently shook as its occupant let out an impatient and frustrated cry, his bleached bones standing out underneath the fluorescent light, his red bandanna tightly around its bare skull.

Superman observed the writhing skeleton alongside Cyborg and Raven, watching as it struggled to break loose.

"Why did you bring us here, High Councilor?" the former asked as he eyed the creature, looking ready to blast it at a moment's notice with his arm cannon.

"I'm trying to learn more about our friend here," Kal-El replied. "Has anyone been able to communicate with it so far?"

Cyborg frowned. "We've tried, but it's dumb. Really dumb, in fact. It utters the occasional word or two, often in other languages, but aside from that, all it does is laughs."

As if on cue, the skeleton reared its head back and cackled, its whole form shaking as it delivered the most maniacal laugh Kal-El had ever heard, the sound making him and the others wince. It was a sound that stirred some deep, dark chord within him, the sound so unnerving that it made the Joker's laughs seem pleasant-sounding, if such a thing were even possible.

"YA HAHAHAHAHAAAAA!"

Cyborg grimaced. "God, I hate it when it does that! Like nails on a blackboard. What I would give to shut that little bastard up."

Superman nodded in agreement. "It's unpleasant." He then turned to the former members of Teen Titans, "Are you able to determine what it is, Victor?"

He watched the former Teen Titan scan the creature. Sighing, he shook his head in dismay. "I'm afraid not, High Councilor. I'm getting really weird readings from this thing. Hang on a moment."

Kal-El saw Victor's flicker, then watched as he gave another frustrated sigh. "I'm not sure if I can a proper read of it, to be honest. Some of the scans are suggesting this thing to be old. Like, really, really old."

Superman quirked a brow. "How old?"

"Rough estimates are in the billions of years."

He blinked in surprise. That old?

Looking back to Spinal, he stared at the humanoid skeleton as it wriggled.

"There's more - according to some of the scans, this thing has endured a lot of trauma. Before and after death."

"Any indications as to what had killed him?"

Victor shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I'm getting an odd energy signature from it, but I'm unable to identify its source. The shield is even weirder, though - it keeps disrupting my equipment every time I try to scan it."

Kal-El then turned to face Raven, "What about you, Raven? Is there anything you can tell me about it?"

He watched the pale woman's features carefully as she concentrated on the creature before them.

Frowning, she slowly shook her head. "I have no knowledge of this being. In terms of its mind, it's so...difficult to read. Its thoughts are so jumbled and all over the place." To Kal-El's surprise, he saw a shudder ripple through the usually stoic woman's cloaked form. "That being said, however, it's violent. It craves bloodshed. As far as I can tell, this isn't one of Trigon's creations."

"Do you know whose it is?" Kal-El pressed.

The hooded woman quietly stood, staring at the skeleton as it struggled to break loose. Finally, she turned to face him, her violet-blue eyes filled with concern. "No, High Councilor. I'm afraid I don't. That said, however..." To Kal-El's surprise, Raven gave him a dark and worried look, "I urge that you tread carefully with this creature, High Councilor. I don't know what it is, but...it is dangerous."

Frowning, the Kryptonian looked back to the struggling creature. "You two may leave. I want to be alone."

"Yes, High Councilor," both said at the exact same time.

Kal-El waited until they were gone, then turned back to face Spinal.


Stepping into its cell from decontamination airlock, Kal-El watched as the creature stopped its movements, its beady, glowing red eyes curiously looking up at him.

"Can you understand me?" he asked.

Spinal uttered no response other than a mere quizzical tilt of his bony head, the movement causing its red bandanna to shift slightly.

Taking a step forward, he loomed over it. "Can you understand what I'm saying? Nod your head once for 'yes', shake your head for 'no'."

The skeleton stared up at him, its bony visage seemingly unafraid of him.

Kal-El patiently waited for a response, watching the entity as it shifted its mandible.

Finally, Spinal gave a slight nonchalant shrug of its bony shoulders. "Meh."

Sighing, Kal-El let out a frustrated breath.

By Rao, what on earth was he thinking? Was he really here trying to talk with this thing? The creature was barely even capable of thought, much less speech.

Looking away from Spinal, Kal-El then looked to the other items in the room. Strapped to one table was a large chunk of driftwood with various ropes stretched across it, but on the top half was what appeared be either an elephant or mammoth skull with beady yellow blinking eyes and no mouth - at least, as far as he could tell. Where the mouth and lips should be were a series of two-foot-long octopus tentacles that waved about in the air like snakes, vividly reminding the Kryptonian of the Gorgon Medusa from Greek mythology.

Parts of it head were marked by what looked like glowing yellow runes, although of what origin Kal-El was uncertain, while draped around its face were some ropes.

Looking into its glowing yellow eyes, the High Councilor regarded the strange entity. "Can you understand me?"

For a brief moment, he saw a reaction, a flicker of intelligence. It was quick and easy to miss, but Kal-El was certain that the creature understood.

Peering closer, he spoke again, "Can you speak?"

The entity gave him a withering stare of what looked unmistakably like pure contempt, its beady yellow eyes coldly narrowing into his own.

Kal-El's initial reaction was to unleash his heat vision upon the anomaly, but it was only through his self-restraint that he resisted the urge to do so as he recalled this particular creature's abilities.

Through means that nobody was able to determine, the shield was capable of absorbing energy. Light, electricity, kinetic - whatever made contact with the shield was enough to empower the skeleton itself.

Squinting, Kal-El tried using his X-Ray vision, only to find himself unable to see through the shield's disturbing visage.

Staring at the shield, he then curiously looked back at the skeleton, its glowing crimson eyes bearing deep into his.

"Do you control the shield, or does it control you?"

Whether or not Spinal had understood, Kal-El wasn't certain. Neither the skeleton nor its loathsome shield uttered a word.

Shaking his head in disgust, Kal-El adjusted his eyes as he tested out his X-Ray and Microscopic visions, the colors of the room shifting.

He could see that both Spinal and the shield were bound together by some sort of energy field, just as Victor had said, but what the exact source was he was unable to determine, for it was unlike anything he had ever seen.

As he studied the two oddities, Kal-El suddenly paused, the sound of Konrad's words ringing clearly.

It all began a few years ago, at an auction in Austria.


The Regime soldiers stepped into Superman's personal quarters within The Watchtower, one of them carrying a large sealed-off box with an electronic lock that flashed red.

"Is that the artifact?" Kale-El asked.

"Yes, sir," the Regime soldier carrying the box nodded.

"Just put it on my desk and leave."

"Yes, High Councilor." Once the Regime soldiers finished, they departed, leaving Kal-El alone.

Leaning over the box, Kal-El tapped in the Kryptonian numerical code, then watched the light on the lock change to green, the box opening with a sharp hiss.

Drawing back the lid, he stared down at the item that he sought - an ugly, crudely-made clay mask with pair of gaping eyeholes.

Taking it out from the box, Kal-El raised the item up to the light, his eyes roaming along its form, taking everything in.

Squat and malformed, the mask was absolutely hideous to look at, with a barely existent nose that had a pair of wide gaping nostrils and an open mouth devoid of a lower jaw.

Tilting it, the Kryptonian furrowed his brows as he studied the various details.

Along the sides of the mask were what seemed to be stylized hair pieces or representations of hair made from gilded gold and copper, both of which were overlaid on top of each other, the latter patinated from age. Positioned at the top of the mask, though, were a pair of crescent structures that outwardly stared in different directions, both of which rested against a patinated triangle, their backs spaced about two to three inches apart.

Kal-El gave the structures a onceover.

They appeared to represent either crescent moons or horns, although he was uncertain as to which. Connecting the two crescent moons together at the top, however, was a ring or a handle, possibly representing the moon, but a noticeable part of said-ring, he noted, was chipped.

At a glance, it was just an ugly and unremarkable-looking ritual mask.

Switching to Microscopic vision, Kal-El adjusted his eyes as he began to study the item in full.

What he discovered disturbed him.

The crescents and ring, he began to realize, had been constructed from what appeared to be...bones.

Human bones, more specifically.

Curling his mouth in disgust, Kal-El regarded the thing in his hands with loathing as he discovered even more horrible details; the entire section of clay that composed the artifact's "face", he suddenly realized, had been overlaid with human skin.

Using his enhanced senses, he felt his brow darken as he became aware of a smell - a faint, pungent, unidentifiable odor that made him wrinkle his nose and instinctively recoil.

'By Rao, this is disgusting!' he winced.

He could smell a multitude of different scents on it, a combination of old and fresh, with some of the former still lingering, all of which he was certain told some dark and frightful story that, if uncovered, would make him want to throw up, rinse and wash his hands over and over again.

Baron Sabrewulf's musky, dog-like odor was the most prominent and freshest, but the odors that lingered were numerous. Man and woman. Old and young. Human and inhuman...

'How many had laid hands on this thing?' he wondered.

How old was this thing, even?

Staring at the item, Kal-El struggled to determine its age, if not its basic chemical makeup.

For reasons beyond him, getting a read of the mask was next to impossible.

Not even his own X-Ray vision was able to peer past through its ugly exterior.

Stroking his chin, Kal-El stared mystified by the item like one confronted with a complex puzzle.


He had searched the archives. Nothing could be found in terms of the magics used to create it, nor could Kal-El find anything in terms of who had created the item.

The only things that he managed to uncover, however, was a long and blood-drenched history from very, very dubious sources. It had taken a great deal of time and effort on Kal-El's part, but at least he was able to make some progress.

With that being said, however, what he learned didn't give him much comfort.

Wherever the mask travelled, Spinal followed, bringing death, madness and doom to all with a wicked grin and laugh wherever he stepped foot.

The more Kal-El researched, the more convinced he became of Sabrewulf's warning.

Holding up the mask, the Man of Steel eyed it with anger.

'It's time to end this,' he thought.

Eyes flashed red as he unleashed his heat vision, the beam striking the mask, the intense heat causing the artifact to sizzle and the skin on his hands to warm up.

Three minutes later, he stopped, then froze, completely startled.

"What the-?"

The mask remained in pristine condition.

Blinking several times, Kal-El scowled as he raised up the artifact for inspection, his brows knitting together in confusion.

'How is that possible?' he wondered.

The heat should have been enough to melt it.

The Man of Steel breathed as he gripped the object on both sides.

Clutching it with both hands, Kal-El squeezed with every ounce of strength he could must, his arms tensing as he pressed his hands against the mask's sides in an attempt to crush it.

Straining, he grit his teeth as he tried increasing the pressure, his hands and fingers pressing as hard as he could.

No matter how hard he pushed, no matter how hard he pulled, the mask remained undamaged, looking worse for wear than it had been when Kal-El started.

Brushing the sweat off from his brow, Kal-El stared gobsmacked at the item.

He was able to crush coal into diamond, and somehow, this mask was able to withstand that much pressure.

Running a hand over his mouth, Kal-El wracked his brain for answers. There had to be a way to destroy this thing, so how-

The Kryptonian's eyes widened with a start.

Of course - the answer had been so obvious.


Taking off into the sky, Superman carried the hateful mask with him, his eyes narrowed with grim determination as his powerful form tore through the atmosphere, moving at superhuman speeds.

Within mere minutes, Kal-El soared past Venus, then Mercury, until finally stopping directly in front of the sun, the scorching heat and solar waves washing over him, his red cape fluttering behind him.

Looking at the mask in his hand, Clark stared long and hard at the ugly artifact.

If what the Baron said was true, then destroying this mask would set things right. It wouldn't undo the damage that had been done already, nor would it return to life those who had fallen throughout the years, but at least it would be a start.

Pulling his arm back, Kal-El prepared to throw the damnable artifact into the blazing sun with everything he had when there came a voice, a whisper.

At first, the words were unintelligible, but over time, they started to grow louder, uttering the same words over and over again.

"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn! Iä Spinal! Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn!"

Wincing in pain, Kal-El reached up to his head, his skull feeling as if it were ready to explode.

It was a voice unlike anything he had ever heard before, so loathsome and thick with slime, a voice akin to a billion angry voices, all of them chanting that same dreadful line over and over without stopping.

"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn! Iä Spinal! Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn!"

Wincing, Kal-El tightened his eyes shut as a loud cry escaped from him, his mind feeling something worming its way inside, his skull feeling as if someone were pressing multiple drills directly into it at the same time.

He saw and felt things he had never experienced before, saw visions of structures and beings so impossible to describe that it shook him deeply to the core. Words failed to capture the sheer terror that he felt as he saw and felt sensations completely foreign to him. He knew the universe was infinite in its size, but to see even further beyond how he normally would see things...

Holding the mask in one hand, the Kryptonian felt his entire body quake and tremble all over, his skin turning pale as he was shown things human eyes were never meant to see, shown things that made his heart race and his blood freeze.

Gritting his teeth, Kal-El prepared to fling the mask into the sun with every ounce of determination that he had when a single thought crossed his mind, causing him to halt mid-throw.

There is a way to save Lois.

Hesitating, Kal-El froze, blinking in confusion as he found himself raising the mask back up as it started to ominously glow with luminescent green energy, its eye sockets growing brighter and brighter with each passing moment.

As he stared into the infinite green hue, Kal-El found himself mesmerized, too powerless to look away as the mask told him.

Whatever this mask was, be it cursed artifact, demon, or conduit to some higher being, there was no denying that the power he felt from it was unlike anything he had ever imagined.

With this power, anything was possible, and he saw endless potential.

He saw a way to uplift the human race, a way to solve the world's problems.

A way to change things for the better.

But even more, a way to to save Lois.

Running a finger over the mask's crude features, Kal-El gave an admiring smile as he regarded the item with newfound resolve.


Several hours later...

"Any idea what's going on?" Shazam asked Cyborg as they along with Diana and Raven walked down the corridors of the WatchTower.

Cyborg shook his head. "I have no idea. I only got the call to attend the meeting." He then offered a quizzical glance over in Diana's direction, "You wouldn't happen to know what this is about, do you?"

Wonder Woman shook her head, "I'm afraid I'm as much in the dark as you are, Cyborg. I hope it's nothing serious."


Stepping into the boardroom, the group paused as Superman stood at the other end of the room with his back facing them, his hands clasped behind him, his eyes staring through the glass window, gazing out into space.

"Thank you all for coming, everyone," he greeted without turning around.

Settling into their seats, Diana raised a brow. "Is everything alright, Kal?"

Diana heard a faint chuckle. "Never been better, Diana," Kal-El answered.

'Something's wrong,' part of her warned. For reasons beyond her, she couldn't help feeling as if something was different.

Something in the very air that made everyone on edge, including Raven, who eyed Superman like one trapped in a cage with a ferocious animal.

Clearing her throat, Diana shifted in her seat. "What is this about?"

For a long while, Kal-El remained uncharacteristically silent.

Finally, he exhaled. "I've been thinking lately about making some much needed changes to the Regime," he spoke.

Diana watched as the other members murmured, some of them looking at each other in confusion. The Amazon leaned on the table, using her arm for support as she tilted her head curiously at him. "What do you have in mind, Superman?"

Kal-El let go of his hands. "I've been going over Ultratech's assets and financial figures carefully, especially in relation to the Killer Instinct tournament."

She crossed her arms, "You wish to dismantle it?"

He waved, "Not at all, actually. In fact," He then turned around, revealing a large 'U' in the place where his family crest had been, "I believe that it would be in the Regime's best interests to keep Ultratech around, the tournament especially."

Diana furrowed her brows, hesitating at the sight before her.

His eyes...there's something different about his eyes...

Tilting his head, Kal-El arched a brow, "Is everything alright, Diana?"

"Uh...Yeah." She shifted in discomfort. "Why did you remove your family crest?"

The Man of Steel smiled. "It's a much needed change, Diana. It is not enough to be "super" anymore - being "super" didn't save Metropolis. As such, we need to do better than that. "Super" can only take you so far. I want something better for the human race, Diana, and Ultratech has the means available to help us achieve that goal. Together, we will establish a new future for humanity. From hereon, I want you all to refer to me...as Ultraman."


Author's Notes: And that concludes my story! So, the idea for this came up from a conversation that I had with fellow writer LunarAquarius. We were discussing different projects when she mentioned that she was interested in doing a potential "Injustice"/KI crossover, and the moment she mentioned that, the gears in my head started to turn.

The idea of crossing these two series over had never really ever occurred to me before, if only because one is set in a world with superheroes and the other is set in a dark dystopian cyberpunk shithole where corporations go to literal war with one another and where bioweapons are televised and sold to the highest bidder, but after thinking it over, it seemed like it had potential. The idea of Superman and Sabrewulf interacting seemed too fascinating and fun of an idea to resist, so I just had to write this up. I liked the idea that the world of "Injustice" potentially having a KI tournament or some sort of variant, although by the same token, I'm not quite certain that, as despotic and tyrannical Superman is as a character, that he would go so extreme as to allow Ultratech to do what they do. I mean, the idea of testing weapons live on television through a martial arts tournament and having contestants maimed or worse, or even becoming experiments themselves once they're defeated, and selling said-weapons off to different corporations - it seems a bit much even for "Regime" Superman. On the other hand, however, if it were the case where the world of the Regime were to transition into something close to KI's nihilistic corporate-ruled future, then it might be possible for it to work imo.

But even more appealing to me was the idea of Superman and Sabrewulf relating to one another and just finding common ground, and because of that, I thought that I'd try my hand at writing this.

At least, that was the theory.

For Sabrewulf, part of the influence for the descriptions came from Leigh Loveday's unpublished KI novel from the late 90s, which can be found here:

Blast From The Past: Unreleased Killer Instinct Novel Preview- Sabrewulf's Back Story – Killer Instinct Central

I highly recommend everyone check it out, KI fans especially. I have no idea why this hadn't been released, but it really is a shame imo.

I'm not sure if I did a good job or not, but at least I tried giving it a go. I actually would LOVE to see more KI/Injustice crossovers in all honesty, just because DC has such a rich roster of characters and I think some fun things can be done in connection with KI's unique menagerie of freaks. I would LOVE to see KI crossed over with Batman or the "Arkham" series, for example.

Finally, I want to thank LunarAquarius for her inspiration and for her help along with Egyptianmaus, The Lady Frost, and GameTitan - thank you so much, guys! You are all absolutely amazing! :D

Hope you guys enjoyed this story. If not, well, thank you for at least taking the time to read it.

Stay safe and healthy, everyone! :)