The Javelin soared through the vast emptiness of space, its sleek hull cutting through the stars as it made its way back to the Watchtower. The Justice League had just completed a critical mission in deep space, one that required their utmost strength, strategy, and teamwork. But now, the mission was behind them, and all they wanted was to get home.
Inside the ship,Green Lantern, his jaw tight with concentration, used his power ring to drag the Javelin through the stars, its fuel having run out halfway across the galaxy. Sweat trickled down his temple as the green energy shimmered around the craft, tugging it forward.
"Come on... just a little further..." John Stewart muttered, clearly feeling the drain on his ring's energy.
The steady hum of the ring flickered slightly, showing signs of its depletion. He glanced at the fuel gauge once more and sighed, throwing a sharp glance over his shoulder at The Flash, who sat nonchalantly at his station, oblivious to the struggles.
"Next time, refuel before we leave," John grumbled.
Flash shot him a sheepish look, grinning nervously. "Oh, come on, GL. You can't hold that against me forever. I had—other things on my mind."
"Like what?" Hawkgirl interjected from across the cabin, arching an eyebrow. "Snacks?"
Flash crossed his arms, leaning back. "I'm a busy guy, alright?"
As they bantered, Superman hovered just behind John, concern creasing his brow as he activated the communicator to the Watchtower. "Watchtower, this is Superman. We're inbound. Get the landing bay ready."
The communicator crackled for a second before the unmistakable voice of Batman came through, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Just when I was starting to enjoy peace and quiet."
Superman chuckled. "Same old Bats. You know you missed us."
Back in the Watchtower, Batman sat at the control deck, his fingers flying over the console. He was monitoring every system on the space station, always on alert, always prepared. As much as he would never admit it, the silence was unnerving—he knew it wouldn't last long.
In the lounge area of the Watchtower, Dante, the half-demon devil hunter, leaned back lazily on one of the couches, holding a communicator in one hand and a pizza box in the other. His silver hair framed his smirking face as he spoke over the comms to the Flash.
"Hey, Speedster! I got that large pizza with extra pepperoni, just like you wanted. It's waiting for you when you get back. Don't keep it waiting, or I might eat it myself."
From within the Javelin, Hawkgirl couldn't help but laugh at the exchange, shaking her head. She glanced at Flash, who perked up immediately at the mention of food.
"You and Dante—bottomless pits. How do you two even function?" she teased, giving him a light nudge.
Flash shrugged, already daydreaming about the pizza. "It's a gift, Hawkgirl. A gift."
But just as the lighthearted conversation continued, something strange happened.
A blinding flash of light erupted in front of the Javelin, engulfing the ship in a sudden, chaotic turbulence. The energy was like nothing any of them had ever seen—powerful, raw, and unstable. The entire Javelin shook violently, sending alarms blaring as it spun off course.
Inside the Watchtower, the sudden light filled the observation deck, shaking the station.Batman's eyes widened as he glanced at the readings, fingers moving swiftly to stabilize the systems.
"Javelin, do you copy?" Batman's voice came out sharp and urgent over the comms.
Static.
"Javelin, this is Batman. Respond!" He repeated, his jaw tightening.
But there was no response. The bright light vanished as suddenly as it appeared, and with it—so did the Javelin.
For the first time in what felt like ages,Batman's heart skipped a beat. He tried again, but there was nothing. Just silence.
"Damn it," Batman muttered under his breath. His fingers flew across the console, scanning every sector of space where the Javelin had last been detected. But there was no trace of it. No energy signature, no signal. Just... emptiness.
Behind him, Dante walked into the control room, still holding the pizza. His carefree smirk faded when he saw Batman's face.
"What's going on, Bats? You lose your spaceship or something?"
Batman didn't respond immediately, his eyes focused on the screen. He tapped the comms once more.
"Superman? Green Lantern? Flash? Respond." Nothing. He clenched his fists.
Dante's casual demeanor vanished as he stepped forward, realizing the seriousness of the situation. "What happened?"
"They're gone," Batman said quietly, his voice low and heavy. "The Javelin... it's gone."
Dante's eyes narrowed, and for the first time, he understood the gravity of the situation. The Justice League was missing, and whatever had taken them wasn't something either of them could ignore.
"Well," Dante said, setting the pizza down, his eyes flashing with determination. "Looks like I'm gonna need to help you find them."
Batman gave a curt nod. "We don't have much time. Whoever—orwhatever—did this is playing with forces far beyond just us. And I have a feeling we're going to need more than just brute strength."
Dante cracked his knuckles, his devilish grin returning as the thrill of a new hunt washed over him. "Good. Sounds like my kind of party."
Together, Batman and Dante would have to unravel the mystery of what took the Justice League before it was too late—before history itself was rewritten.
XXXX
he void of space was still, eerily quiet after the strange burst of light. But at the same spot where the Javelin had vanished, it now reappeared, as if it had never left. The ship hovered in orbit above Earth, drifting peacefully—yet there was something wrong.
Inside the Javelin, the crew stirred, recovering from the sudden turbulence. Superman was the first to react, quickly rising to his feet and rushing to the cockpit. His sharp gaze immediately scanned the familiar sight of Earth below, but something gnawed at him.
"Javelin to Watchtower, do you copy?" Superman's voice was calm but urgent as he activated the communicator.
Static.
He tried again, glancing back at the team.Wonder Woman and Hawkgirl exchanged concerned looks, while Flash sat upright, his usual playful demeanor replaced with unease.
Superman frowned, trying once more. "Watchtower, this is Superman. We've returned and are preparing for descent. Do you copy?"
Again, there was no response. Superman's brow furrowed as he quickly scanned the surrounding space. His eyes widened.
"The Watchtower... it's gone."
"Wait, what?" Flash said, sitting forward. "That's not possible. We were just talking to Batman."
Green Lantern, exhausted but still on edge, shifted beside him. "I knew something was wrong the moment that light hit us. Whatever it was, it messed with more than just the ship."
J'onn J'onzz floated silently in the cabin, his eyes glowing faintly as he extended his telepathic senses across the vast distance. "I sense… something different. Earth is there, but… it's not the same."
Superman exchanged a glance with J'onn, his concern deepening. "We're going down. Brace yourselves."
The Javelin descended swiftly toward Earth, breaking through the clouds and heading for Metropolis. But as they approached, the League noticed subtle, unsettling differences in the cityscape.
From the cockpit, Superman's sharp gaze scanned the familiar skyline, though something was off. "That's Metropolis," he said slowly, "but… it's not our Metropolis."
The Javelin landed smoothly in Centennial Park, right in the heart of the city. The team exited cautiously, their senses on high alert. The park looked mostly the same, but there were changes that made it feel unfamiliar, distorted.
Flash stepped forward, taking in the surroundings. His usual lightheartedness was absent as he tried to process what he was seeing. "Well… I'm pretty sure we're not in Kansas anymore," he muttered, the quip falling flat without his typical jovial tone.
Wonder Woman strode toward a familiar sight: the Daily Planet building in the distance. Her keen eyes quickly zeroed in on a significant difference. "Look at the globe," she said, pointing toward the top of the iconic building. The Daily Planet globe was there, but instead of a hand cradling it gently as they knew, the hand now clenched the globe in a fist, symbolizing control rather than protection.
"That's… ominous," Hawkgirl murmured, her wings shifting uneasily.
J'onn J'onzzfloated closer to a nearby wall, where something had caught his attention. His eyes locked onto a large propaganda poster that looked vaguely familiar, but in a disturbing way. The image depicted a towering man, regal and commanding, with slogans of power and order surrounding him. J'onn tilted his head, trying to place the face.
"Who is this?" he asked aloud, pointing to the poster. The others gathered around.
Flash squinted at it. "Looks like one of those old-world dictator types. Guy's got that 'ruler of the world' vibe."
Superman frowned. "I don't recognize him."
Wonder Woman studied the figure. "Neither do I. But there's something unsettling about this."
"Whoever he is, he seems to run this place," Green Lantern said, nodding toward the poster's slogans, which glorified the man as a savior and a conqueror. "Not exactly the Metropolis we know."
J'onn stepped back, scanning the area telepathically again, searching for any recognition, but there was none. "We need to find out who this is and what's happened to this world."
Flash tapped his foot impatiently, the weight of the situation growing on him. "We've gotta be in some sort of alternate timeline, right? I mean, Metropolis is… kinda the same, but this," he gestured at the poster, "this whole vibe is way off."
Superman nodded. "It's possible. We need answers, and we need to get back to our timeline, if that's what this is."
As the team began to explore the city, J'onn's telepathic link reached out again, but instead of the usual noise of a bustling metropolis, he sensed something darker. There was no Watchtower, no Batman waiting for them. And even worse—there was no trace of the Justice League ever existing.
"It's as if we've been erased," J'onn said quietly. "There are no memories of us here. No one is aware of our presence."
Superman glanced back at him. "Then we need to stay low until we figure out what's going on. This city may look like Metropolis, but something tells me whoever's in charge won't welcome us with open arms."
J'onn turned his gaze back to the poster. "This man… whoever he is, he holds the key to what's happened here."
As the team moved cautiously through the altered streets of Metropolis,none of them recognized the man in the posters. But they would soon learn that his name was Vandal Savage—an immortal dictator who had rewritten history itself.
And the Justice League wasn't just missing—they had landed in a world where the Axis powers had won, and Vandal Savage reigned supreme.
XXXX
The Watchtower was quiet. Too quiet. Its usual hum of activity and chatter from the Justice League was absent, replaced only by the low buzz of computers and distant sounds of machinery. Batman sat at the command deck, his face illuminated by the glow of the consoles in front of him. His sharp eyes darted over various energy readouts and analysis reports, trying to make sense of what had just occurred.
The Javelin had vanished. One moment, the team had been on course for the Watchtower. The next, they were gone without a trace, swallowed by a burst of blinding light. Batman's fingers flew over the console, calling up data on the strange energy that had appeared in the seconds before the Javelin disappeared.
"Temporal anomaly," he muttered under his breath, watching as the readouts confirmed his suspicions. The energy signatures matched known cases of time distortion, but there was something off, something he couldn't quite pin down yet.
Behind him, Dante sauntered into the room, his usual swagger noticeably tempered by the tension in the air. He wasn't the kind of guy who liked getting bogged down in science, but the situation was serious. The Justice League—people he'd come to respect in his own devil-may-care way—was missing. And if Batman was this rattled, he knew something big was at play.
"Any luck finding our pals?" Dante asked casually, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his silver hair falling slightly over his eyes. "Or are we still chasing shadows?"
Batman didn't respond immediately, too focused on the streams of data. After a moment, he spoke without turning around. "It wasn't a normal disappearance. This wasn't an attack or sabotage—at least, not in the conventional sense."
Dante raised an eyebrow. "Care to translate that out of Bat-speak?"
With a quiet sigh, Batman brought up a holographic display showing the energy readings from the moment the Javelin vanished. "These energy signatures are consistent with temporal anomalies. Some kind of disturbance in the fabric of time itself."
Dante's eyes narrowed as he stepped forward, glancing at the display. He wasn't a scientist, but being a private investigator—and more importantly, a devil hunter—he had dealt with his share of weird, otherworldly phenomena. He'd seen magic, demons, and the occasional time-warping event enough to know that this wasn't something to take lightly.
"Time travel, huh?" Dante muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've seen enough sci-fi movies to get the gist of that. So, what are we talking about here? Alternate timelines? Parallel dimensions? Or just good ol' fashioned 'someone screwed with the timeline'?"
Batman, still focused on the data, replied with his usual calm precision. "It's unclear. But the energy readings suggest that the Javelin—and the team—may have been displaced in time. Where or when they've gone, we don't know yet."
Dante let out a low whistle. "So they're stuck in some time-travel mess? Sounds like a party. Too bad I wasn't invited." His tone was flippant, but there was a serious edge underneath. He was worried, though he masked it well with his trademark nonchalance.
"Time isn't something to joke about," Batman said, his tone sharp but not unkind. "If they've been displaced, it means they're in danger. They could be trapped in the past—or worse, in an alternate timeline where history has been rewritten."
Dante scratched his head. "Alright, so how do we fix it? You're the brains here, Bats, but I'm guessing it's not as simple as punching a hole in time and pulling them out."
Batman narrowed his eyes, fingers tapping quickly across the console. "No, but I can trace the energy signature that caused the anomaly. It left behind residual traces. If I can pinpoint where—or when—it sent the Javelin, we can start looking for a way to bring them back."
Dante walked up to the console, arms still crossed, his expression thoughtful. "You keep saying we, but aren't you forgetting something?" He gestured to the space around them. "I'm not exactly known for messing with time. That's more in your wheelhouse, isn't it?"
Batman paused, glancing over his shoulder at Dante. "You're not just here as an observer, Dante. The League may be gone, but you're here. You have resources—people—who deal with the supernatural and things beyond this world. We need every possible angle."
Dante smirked. "Flattering. I'll see what Trish and Lady can dig up. They've dealt with temporal spells before, but it's usually tied to demonic energy. Still, magic, time, science—it's all just different flavors of weird, right?"
Batman turned back to the console, the faintest hint of agreement in his posture. "The Watchtower's systems can give me more precise coordinates, but we'll need help on the ground. Find anything that can link us to this disturbance. If it's magical, demonic, or otherwise—track it."
Dante gave a two-fingered salute. "You got it, Bats. I'll get on it. We'll figure this out."
As Dante left the control room, Batman continued to work, his eyes fixed on the energy readings. Time was not on their side—literally and figuratively. He needed to locate the League before whatever timeline they were in cemented itself into reality.
Alone, he spoke softly, his voice barely audible. "Wherever you are... hold on."
Meanwhile, in the Watchtower lounge, Dante pulled out his phone and quickly dialed up Trish.
"Hey, Trish. It's me. Yeah, we've got a situation—big one. Time's all messed up, and the League's missing. You, Lady, start looking into any temporal disturbances or spells. Anything that sounds like it could have sent an entire ship through time. I'll meet you back at Devil May Cry."
He hung up and stared at the vastness of space through the window for a moment, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. The League wasn't just lost—they were somewhere in time, possibly in a place where everything they knew had changed.
"Alright," Dante muttered to himself. "Time to crash this party and bring the gang back."
Back at the control deck, Batman's systems pinged with a new energy trace. It wasn't much, but it was a lead.
A portal between timelines had been opened.
And someone—something—was responsible.
XXXX
Standing on a rooftop, Barbara Gordon surveyed the streets below, her sharp eyes scanning for any sign of movement. In this timeline, she was no Batgirl, no caped vigilante. The war had claimed that future. Her father, the late Commissioner Gordon, had been a hero in his own right—one of the few who stood against the oppressive regime of Vandal Savage and his family. Along with detectives like Bullock and Montoya, Gordon had resisted, refusing to bow to tyranny. For their defiance, they paid the ultimate price.
Executed in public, their deaths became symbols of rebellion. Though their bodies were gone, their legacy persisted—whispers of hope that the people of this broken world needed more than ever.
Barbara clenched her fists at the thought, bitterness gnawing at her. Her father's sacrifice was not in vain. And she would make sure the name Gordon would always stand for something more than just a memory.
From her vantage point, she noticed something strange in Centennial Park. A group of unfamiliar figures had gathered in the square, surrounded by Savage's heavily armed forces. Hawkgirl, Wonder Woman, J'onn J'onzz, Superman, and The Flash were locked in battle, their vibrant costumes and powers a stark contrast to the dreary, authoritarian landscape around them.
Barbara furrowed her brow, narrowing her eyes. "Who are they?" she muttered to herself, gripping the edge of the building.
She had never seen anyone like them before. They were powerful, clearly not part of Savage's regime, but they weren't part of the underground resistance either. Her curiosity deepened as she watched Wonder Woman and Hawkgirl clash with Savage's soldiers, their weapons cutting through the oppressive forces with ease.
Green Lantern flew overhead, his green energy construct shielding them from a barrage of enemy fire. "You just had to open your big mouth, didn't ya, hot shot?" he growled in frustration as lasers ricocheted off his shield.
Down below, Flash dodged a hail of bullets with ease, zipping between soldiers, his typical bravado evident even in this dangerous situation. "Hey, how was I supposed to know that these bad guys would be so sensitive about their master?"
From her rooftop, Barbara couldn't help but smirk at their banter, but it was clear they were outnumbered, and their unfamiliarity with this world was putting them at a disadvantage. Savage's forces were relentless, and she knew that reinforcements were always just around the corner.
"If they stay, they'll be overwhelmed," she muttered, reaching into her utility belt. Though she wasn't Batgirl in this world, Barbara had inherited her father's resourcefulness. She wasn't going to stand by and let these outsiders get crushed.
Without a second thought, she pulled out a smoke grenade and tossed it toward the chaos below.
A thick cloud of gray smoke exploded in the park, enveloping the combatants. The momentary confusion caused Savage's forces to falter. Barbara's sharp voice echoed from the rooftops.
"Over here!" she called out. "Follow me if you want to live."
XXXXX
The League members looked up, squinting through the haze. Barbara Gordon stood on the edge of a rooftop, motioning for them to follow. Superman's keen eyes focused on her, recognizing her, though not in the way he expected.
"That looks like Commissioner Gordon's daughter…" Superman whispered to himself as they regrouped.
"She's supposed to be," he added quietly.
Without hesitation, they followed her lead, moving quickly through the park as the smoke covered their retreat. Barbara led them to a nearby alley, lifting a hidden manhole cover and motioning them inside.
"Move. Quickly," she urged, her voice steady and authoritative. She clearly wasn't someone who hesitated in dangerous situations.
One by one, the League members descended into the old subway tunnels beneath the city. Once they were all inside, Barbara replaced the manhole cover and led them through the darkened tunnels, their footsteps echoing quietly. They soon came upon an old, disused subway train hidden deep in the system. Barbara gestured for them to board.
Flash, ever curious, nudged Superman as they walked. "So… who's she? I mean, I've never seen her before."
Superman, keeping his voice low, replied, "She looks like Barbara Gordon, Commissioner Gordon's daughter. At least, she's supposed to be. But something's different here."
Once everyone was aboard, Barbara moved to the control panel at the front of the subway car and activated the train. The old machinery whirred to life, and the train lurched forward, moving steadily through the forgotten tunnels.
The League sat in silence for a moment, taking in their strange surroundings. Wonder Woman glanced at Barbara, curiosity clear in her eyes. "You helped us. Why?"
Barbara didn't turn around but spoke clearly. "I don't know who you are or where you came from. But anyone who fights against Savage's regime is an ally of mine."
J'onn J'onzz, his voice calm, spoke next. "You called him Savage. Do you mean Vandal Savage?"
Barbara glanced back briefly, her eyes sharp. "Vandal Savage? He's been the ruler of this world for decades. The Savage family runs everything."
The League exchanged grim looks. This was worse than they had thought.
Barbara, now fully focused on the task ahead, turned back to her controls. "We're headed to the resistance headquarters. It's not much, but it's all we have."
As the train sped through the darkness, Superman sat in quiet thought. This world wasn't just unfamiliar—it was wrong. And if Vandal Savage truly ruled this timeline, it meant the Justice League had landed in an alternate version of history, one where evil had triumphed.
Now, they had to figure out how to survive—and how to fix what had gone wrong.
The train rattled on, deeper into the underground, carrying the League toward the heart of the resistance. And with every second that passed, the stakes of their mission became clearer. They weren't just fighting for their world anymore—they were fighting to restore time itself.
XXXX
The subway train screeched to a halt in an old, forgotten station deep beneath the city. The air was thick with the smell of rust and damp concrete, and the flickering lights cast long, ominous shadows along the walls. Barbara Gordon led the displaced Justice League members off the train and into a narrow passage, heading toward the heart of the resistance.
The League followed in silence, their senses on high alert as they navigated through the winding tunnels. Eventually, they reached a heavy, reinforced door. Barbara knocked with purpose.
A voice from behind the door barked, "What's the passphrase?"
Barbara responded coolly, "One. Nine. Three. Five."
There was a click and a loud metallic clunk as the door was unlocked. Barbara pushed it open and stepped inside, motioning for the others to follow her. As soon as the League members entered, they were met with the cold, sharp click of guns being trained on them from every corner of the room. Survivors of the resistance—men and women, bruised, worn, and battle-hardened—stared down the League with suspicion and determination.
Superman raised a hand, his eyes calm but authoritative. "Put down your weapons. Trust me, it wouldn't make much of a difference."
One by one, the resistance fighters lowered their weapons, though their eyes remained wary. Hawkgirl surveyed the room, her gaze flicking over the makeshift headquarters, filled with old equipment, maps, and worn-out faces. "What is this place?" she asked, her voice edged with curiosity and concern.
Barbara stepped forward, glancing back at the group. "This is the resistance. Survivors and defectors who have been fighting Savage's regime for years."
Hawkgirl folded her arms. "How long?"
Before Barbara could respond, a stoic voice echoed from behind her. "Too long."
The League turned to see two figures emerging from the shadows—an imposing man with a powerful presence, his silver hair and crimson eyes a dead giveaway of his demonic heritage, and beside him, a woman with a serene but strong demeanor, her eyes warm but hardened by battle.
The man stepped forward, his cloak shifting as he moved. He was unmistakable—the legendary Dark Knight Sparda.
"While Savage may have won the battle and enslaved humanity, the war has not ended," Sparda said, his deep voice resonating in the room. "As long as there are people willing to stand against oppression and Tyranny."
The other figure, Sparda's wife, Eva, stood at his side, her presence a quiet but powerful reassurance to those in the room. The displaced League members, unfamiliar with this timeline, stood in shock. Superman, being the co-leader of the League, stepped forward cautiously, his eyes narrowing slightly in recognition.
"You seem surprised to see us," Sparda said with a hint of amusement in his voice.
Superman raised an eyebrow. "A little. I'm more surprised that you survived, Sparda."
Sparda chuckled, a deep, almost ancient sound. "Reports of my death have been exaggerated. I've learned to adapt."
Eva, standing beside her husband, smiled softly. "We have all had to adapt."
Sparda gestured for the displaced League members to follow him and Eva. "Come. You're not from here, and I assume you have many questions. It's time you had some answers."
They followed Sparda and Eva deeper into the resistance headquarters, passing through makeshift barracks, armories, and a command center buzzing with activity. Despite the rundown state of the old station, the resistance had made it a functional base of operations. They finally arrived at a room filled with old computer systems, screens showing maps of the city and surveillance feeds. Sparda moved toward the largest screen, tapping a few keys to bring up a visual record.
"What you're about to see is the moment history changed," Sparda said grimly.
The screen displayed footage from a distant past—a pivotal moment in World War II. The League watched as the images unfolded before them. It was D-Day, the day the Allies had launched their invasion to liberate Europe. But instead of victory, the footage showed how everything went wrong. As the Allied forces began their assault, a massive machine—one of Vandal Savage's creations—emerged from the depths, unleashing power the likes of which the world had never seen.
"It was Savage's machine," Sparda explained. "It turned the tide of the war. The Axis powers, with Savage's help, crushed the Allied forces. And from that moment on, history as you know it never happened."
Green Lantern, standing at the back of the group, clenched his fists. As a former Marine, he had learned the history of World War II intimately. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. "No… this can't be right. We know what happened on D-Day. The Allies won. This—" He stopped himself, his mind struggling to process the impossible.
Eva stepped forward, her voice calm but filled with sorrow. "It wasn't just a defeat. It was a disaster. Savage's machine tipped the balance, and from there, the world fell under his control. One by one, nations fell. Resistance was crushed. And now, the Savage family rules the world with an iron fist."
Superman shook his head, his mind racing. "This timeline… it's not how things were supposed to happen. In our world, the Allies won the war. Vandal Savage never had this kind of influence."
Sparda crossed his arms, his eyes locking with Superman's. "It seems we're dealing with more than just a historical anomaly. You're not from this timeline, are you?"
Superman nodded. "No. We were pulled into this reality. We're trying to find a way back—and fix whatever's been changed."
Sparda exchanged a glance with Eva before speaking again. "Then it seems we have a common enemy. Savage's power is absolute here, but if you're here to stop him, we may have a chance. But it won't be easy. This world is entrenched in his grip."
Eva added, her voice resolute. "We've fought for years. We've lost friends, family, everything. But if you're truly from a different timeline, perhaps there's a way to undo what's been done."
The League, now realizing the full scale of the situation, stood in silence for a moment. They weren't just trapped in another time—they were in a world where history had been rewritten by Vandal Savage, and everything they knew was at stake.
Superman, ever the optimist, looked at Sparda and Eva with determination. "Then we'll fight. We'll fight to set things right."
Sparda nodded, a spark of hope flickering in his eyes. "Good. Because this war is far from over."
The resistance had new allies now—heroes from another world. And together, they would take the fight to Vandal Savage.
In one of the more secluded corners of the resistance headquarters, the displaced members of the Justice League gathered around a worn-out table, still processing the enormity of what they had learned. The old station buzzed with activity as resistance fighters moved about, but the League members' focus was on the conversation they were having.
Superman, arms crossed and brow furrowed, broke the silence first. "This world… it's completely different from what we know. The more I think about it, the more I realize just how deep these changes go."
Hawkgirl, sitting on the edge of a crate nearby, tapped her mace against the ground thoughtfully. "Savage didn't just rewrite history. He wiped out an entire future. Our future. Everything that should have happened after World War II—it's just gone. It's like we never existed."
J'onn J'onzz, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of their predicament, added, "This timeline is a result of one man gaining too much control. The Savage family has built an empire on a foundation of power and fear. The challenge before us is not just to survive here, but to restore the correct flow of time."
Green Lantern, shaking his head in disbelief, leaned back in his seat. "It's hard to swallow. I remember D-Day like it was etched into history—ourhistory. And now we're standing in a world where the exact opposite happened. The Allies lost. The world lost." His voice was laced with frustration, the ex-Marine in him grappling with the magnitude of the change.
Superman nodded, his expression one of determination. "We've faced impossible odds before. This isn't just about defeating Savage. It's about undoing all the damage he's caused."
Hawkgirl sighed, gripping her mace tightly. "I just hope we can fix it before it's too late. Who knows how long we've got before this reality cements itself into something we can't reverse."
While the League members discussed their situation, Wonder Woman approached Sparda in another section of the resistance base. She found him standing near an old weapons cache, his tall figure bathed in the dim light of the underground station. His aura radiated power, but there was an undeniable weight on his shoulders, a heaviness that came with long years of battle and loss.
Diana stepped closer, her tone gentle but inquisitive. "Sparda."
Sparda turned to face her, his eyes steady and measured. "Diana," he said, his voice deep but respectful. "What is it you wish to know?"
Diana hesitated for a moment before asking, "I wanted to ask about your sons—Dante and Vergil. In our timeline, you and Eva... you're no longer alive. I assumed they would have survived here, as they did in my world. But you haven't spoken of them."
Sparda's face hardened at the mention of his sons. He inhaled deeply, his shoulders rising slightly as if weighed down by painful memories. He didn't speak right away, but the silence told Diana that this was a story of loss.
After a long pause, Sparda exhaled and began, his voice filled with both sorrow and resolve. "It was in Red Grave City. The Axis forces came for us. They knew what I was, what my family was. They feared what my sons might become."
He glanced at Eva, who stood nearby, her expression mirroring his grief. "Eva and I fought them off, trying to buy enough time for Dante and Vergil to escape. They were still young—just boys. But the enemy… they were relentless. The escape route we planned for them was cut off."
Diana furrowed her brow in confusion. "But your sons—being half-demons… surely, they would have survived. Their demonic heritage would have protected them from fatal harm, no?"
Sparda's gaze dropped, his fists clenching as if to contain the pain that still lingered. "Their powers hadn't fully manifested at that age. They were strong, yes, but not invulnerable. They were only children—human in many ways. And despite everything we tried to do, they couldn't escape the inevitable."
Diana's heart sank, realizing the depth of his loss. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize..."
Sparda shook his head softly. "No one could have known. I failed them that day. I failed as a father, and I failed as a protector."
Diana, deeply empathetic, reached out and placed a hand on his arm, offering her condolences. "You didn't fail, Sparda. You fought to protect them, to give them a chance. That is all anyone can ask of a parent."
Sparda nodded, though the weight of his grief remained. "Thank you, Diana."
For a moment, silence fell between them. But then Sparda's eyes flicked to her wrists, where her Amazonian braceletsgleamed in the dim light. His gaze lingered on them for a moment, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"You're an Amazon, aren't you?" Sparda asked, his voice lighter but intrigued.
Diana smiled slightly, having expected the question. "I am. The bracelets give it away, I suppose?"
Sparda chuckled softly, a rare moment of levity. "Yes, they do. I've encountered your kind before. I fought alongside the Amazons once, a long time ago, when Mundus threatened to merge the underworld with the human world at Temen-ni-gru."
Diana's eyes widened slightly in recognition of the name. "Temen-ni-gru… yes, I've heard stories about that battle. My mother, Queen Hippolyta, spoke of it with great reverence. She said that a warrior of great strength fought by her side, one who stood between humanity and the forces of darkness. That warrior was you, wasn't it?"
Sparda nodded. "I fought with Hippolyta, yes. She was a formidable warrior—strong, fearless. She spoke often of the Amazons' devotion to protecting the world from threats beyond human understanding. I see that same strength in you."
Diana inclined her head. "Thank you, Sparda. My people have always spoken of your legend with respect. To hear you lived through such trials only adds to the stories."
Sparda looked down at his hands, his expression unreadable. "Legends are just that—stories. In reality, we all carry our burdens. And mine are many."
Diana offered a knowing smile. "That may be so, but you're still fighting. And as long as you fight, there is hope."
Sparda glanced at her, appreciating the wisdom in her words. "Perhaps you're right, Diana. Perhaps you're right."
As the conversation between Sparda and Diana drew to a close, there was a mutual understanding between the two warriors. Both had fought countless battles, lost loved ones, and carried the weight of worlds on their shoulders. And now, in this fractured timeline, they would fight once again—this time, side by side.
The two rejoined the others, where the Justice League and the resistance continued their discussions. The time for grief was over. The time for action was now.
Together, they would take the fight to Vandal Savage and the twisted history he had wrought.
And perhaps, in doing so, they could reclaim what was lost.
XXXX
In a quieter section of the resistance headquarters, Eva stood alone, staring at a small, worn photograph she kept tucked safely in her coat. It was an image of her family—her husband Sparda, and their two sons, Dante and Vergil, when they were just children. The edges of the photo were frayed, and the colors faded, but the memories it held were still vivid in her mind.
As she gazed at the picture, lost in thought, she didn't notice the approach of The Flash until he was standing beside her.
"Hey," Flash said gently, rubbing the back of his neck, unsure of how to start. "I didn't mean to intrude or anything."
Eva turned to him, offering a soft smile. "It's alright. You're not intruding. Just… thinking about the past."
Flash glanced at the photo in her hands, instantly recognizing the familiar faces of Dante and Vergil from their timeline. His usual lighthearted demeanor softened as he spoke, trying to comfort her in some small way. "In our world—our timeline, I mean—your sons, Dante and Vergil… they grew up. They're still out there. Dante, well… he's kinda famous for taking down demons and causing a bit of chaos wherever he goes." Flash chuckled, then his expression grew more serious. "Vergil's story is more complicated, but they're both alive."
Eva's eyes brightened slightly at this, but before Flash could stop himself, he added, "And you've got a grandson too. His name's Nero. Tough kid, takes after both his dad and his uncle."
Flash froze, realizing he might've said too much. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Eva simply smiled, her eyes welling up with a warmth that hadn't been there moments ago.
"I have a grandson?" Eva whispered, her voice filled with quiet awe. "Nero…"
Flash panicked for a moment, feeling like he had made things worse. "I—uh, I didn't mean to—well, that's probably a spoiler for the future or something. You weren't supposed to know—"
But Eva held up a hand, stopping him. "No, don't worry about it," she said softly. "If anything, it brings me peace to know that, in your world, my family lives on." Her eyes drifted back to the photograph. "It's a comfort, really. To know that they survived… that they lived, and even had their own families. That's more than I could have hoped for in this world."
Flash, a little relieved, smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. I know this timeline's… rough, to say the least. But knowing things turned out differently somewhere else, it gives me hope, you know?"
Eva nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Yes, hope is sometimes all we have to hold onto. It's how I've kept going all these years."
Flash shifted slightly, his usual energy toned down as he asked, "How do you do it? I mean, after everything you've lost—your sons, your world, all of it. How do you keep moving forward?"
Eva looked at him, her eyes full of quiet wisdom. "I move forward because I must. I've seen too much death, too much suffering to let it define me. Sparda and I, we've fought to protect what little good remains. And even though we've lost so much, as long as there are people willing to fight for what's right—like you and your friends—there is still something worth fighting for. My sons… they would have wanted me to keep fighting."
Flash nodded, understanding, even if he couldn't fully grasp the depth of her pain. "You're a lot stronger than I think I'd ever be in your shoes."
Eva smiled softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're stronger than you think, Flash. You and your team are fighting a battle you never asked for, in a world you don't know. But you're still fighting. That's what matters."
Just as they were finishing their conversation, one of the resistance fighters approached the group, his face tense and urgent.
"Commander," the fighter said, addressing Sparda, who had joined them. "We've got intel on one of Savage's generals—Krause. According to our informants, he has information on the Savage family's biggest secret. Something they've kept hidden for decades."
The League exchanged glances, instantly recognizing the importance of such intel.
Sparda's eyes narrowed. "Where is he?"
The fighter continued, "He's scheduled to attend an opera at the Grand Hall in the city soon. We believe he'll have the information with him or at least be in a position to reveal it. It's our best shot at intercepting him."
Eva, overhearing the conversation, nodded knowingly. "Krause has always been a lover of opera. It's no surprise he'd use an event like this to unwind, even in times of war. It's one of the few pastimes that soothe his mind."
The fighter produced a map, showing a detailed route through the city. "Our informant gave us this—Krause's planned route to the opera. If we intercept him here," the fighter pointed to a narrow street near the venue, "we can take him by surprise. He's always well-guarded, but this is our best shot."
Superman, looking at the map with intensity, nodded. "If Krause has valuable information about Savage's plans—or a weakness in his regime—we need to act fast. This could be our way to dismantle his power from the inside."
Green Lantern, crossing his arms, chimed in. "But this is a high-risk operation. We'll need to be careful. Krause won't be an easy target, and if he's got that kind of intel, he'll be heavily guarded."
Sparda agreed. "We've dealt with Krause's forces before. He's not a fool. But if we can catch him off-guard, we may stand a chance."
Flash, ever the optimist, added with a grin, "Well, if nothing else, I've always wanted to crash a fancy opera. Sounds like fun."
Hawkgirl smirked. "Let's just hope your idea of 'fun' doesn't get us all caught."
With their plan starting to take shape, the League and the resistance prepared for their next move. They had a chance—a slim one—but it could be the break they needed to strike a blow against Vandal Savage's empire.
Eva, still holding the photograph of her family, slipped it back into her coat, her resolve hardening. "We must take this opportunity. For too long, Savage has held this world in his grip. If we have a chance to change that, we take it."
Sparda placed a hand on her shoulder, their shared history and pain fueling their determination. "We will. And we will not fail this time."
As the group gathered their gear and prepared for the mission, they knew the next steps could decide not just the fate of this world—but perhaps even their ability to set things right across time.
XXXX
The sleek black car carrying General Krause glided through the darkened streets of the city, its windows tinted to hide its precious cargo. Krause sat in the backseat, adjusting his cufflinks, his face a mask of cool arrogance. The city's oppressive lights flickered as they drove toward the Grand Opera Hall, the vehicle escorted by a convoy of armed security. Krause was confident that no one would dare to disrupt his evening.
That confidence was short-lived.
Without warning, the ground beneath the car erupted. With a deafening crash, the car was flipped violently into the air, spinning once before landing on its roof with a thunderous thud. The convoy screeched to a halt, chaos erupting as soldiers scrambled to assess the situation.
Krause, shaken but unharmed, crawled out from the wreckage. His security detail, though bruised and rattled, stumbled out after him, guns at the ready. They formed a protective circle around the general, their eyes darting through the smoke and debris.
Then, through the haze, Eva stepped into view, standing calmly across from the wrecked car. Her fiery red hair gleamed in the dim streetlight, and her piercing gaze was fixed on Krause, who recognized her immediately.
"Ah, Fräulein Eva," Krause sneered, brushing dirt from his immaculate coat. "The wife of that Teufel, Sparda. I can't understand why you refused our amnesty. With your Aryan beauty, you would have made an excellent addition to our cause."
Eva's expression hardened, the same fire that resided in her sons burning in her eyes. She stepped forward, unafraid, her voice sharp as steel. "You and your regime offered only servitude, Krause. I would sooner die than align myself with cowards and murderers."
Krause chuckled darkly, his pride wounded but not yet broken. "You could have had power, Eva. You could have been a queen in our new world."
Eva's response was a glare, filled with loathing and defiance, a glare that would have made her sons proud.
Krause raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by her retort. "Pity. You could have had everything."
He waved a hand dismissively at his security. "Seize her!"
The soldiers rushed forward, but before they could take another step, the night air was filled with a sharp, metallic clang. Sparda, flanked by the displaced Justice League members, descended upon Krause's security with swift precision.
Hawkgirl slammed her mace into the first guard, knocking him out cold. Green Lantern created glowing energy constructs, disarming the rest of the security with ease. The Flash zipped past the remaining guards, rendering them unconscious before they even realized what was happening. Superman stood ready, but the guards were subdued before he even needed to act.
Krause, standing alone now, took a step back, his usual arrogance faltering as Sparda approached him. The legendary Dark Knight stood tall, his presence overwhelming.
"Sparda," Krause whispered, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.
Later, on the rooftop of a nearby building, Krause found himself bound and at the mercy of both Sparda and Eva. The Justice League members stood close by, but it was clear that this interrogation belonged to the couple.
Sparda leaned against a railing, his arms crossed as he regarded Krause with a mixture of calm and menace. His tone was eerily similar to Dante's, laced with a bit of humor but carrying an unmistakable edge. "So, Krause," Sparda began, his voice casual but dangerous, "you're going to tell us what we want to know. Or this night's going to get a lot more unpleasant for you."
Krause, still trying to maintain his composure, sneered. "Do you think you scare me, Sparda? I've faced worse than you."
Eva stepped forward, her fiery resolve unmistakable. "You don't know what fear is yet, Krause. But you will."
Sparda's demeanor shifted, becoming more stoic, reminiscent of Vergil in his focus and precision. He leaned closer to Krause, his eyes cold. "We know you're hiding something about Savage. Something important. And you're going to tell us."
Krause, realizing his situation, swallowed hard. The man who had once reveled in the power of the Savage regime now found himself under the cold scrutiny of the very people he'd underestimated.
Seeing that he had no way out, Krause relented. "Alright, alright! I'll talk. There's a facility—a laboratory, hidden deep in the mountains. Savage has been developing advanced technology there for years. Things far beyond your understanding."
Sparda raised an eyebrow, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Technology for what?"
Krause hesitated, then finally spoke. "Savage's family secret—his power. It isn't just about being immortal. There's something else, something he's been keeping from the world. That lab holds the key. I can tell you where it is."
The Flash, standing beside Green Lantern, couldn't help but quip as he watched the interaction between Sparda and Krause. "It's like looking in a mirror, GL."
Green Lantern shook his head slightly, his voice dry. "Everything's relative."
As Krause, visibly shaken, provided the exact location of the lab, Sparda stepped back, satisfied with the information. He glanced at Eva, and they shared a brief, knowing look—this was the lead they needed to strike at the heart of Savage's regime.
"Thank you for your cooperation, Krause," Sparda said, his tone shifting back to one of wry amusement. "But just to be clear, you're not walking away from this one."
Krause's eyes widened in fear, but before he could protest, he was knocked unconscious by a precise blow from Sparda.
Eva turned to the Justice League members. "This is it. The lab he's talking about—it could be the key to bringing down Savage for good."
Superman nodded, his expression resolute. "Then we need to move fast. If Savage has been keeping secrets, it's time we find out what they are."
Sparda, ever the warrior, turned toward the horizon, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "We're not just going after his secrets. We're going to end his reign."
The Justice League and the resistance had their next target: the hidden laboratory. And with it, the chance to finally turn the tide against Vandal Savage. The war for the future of both timelines was far from over.
XXXX
The mountains loomed ahead, jagged peaks piercing the sky as the group made their way to the outskirts of the hidden laboratory. It was a remote and forbidding place, the perfect location for Vandal Savage to conceal his most guarded secrets. Sparda, standing at the front, surveyed the landscape with a grim nod. He held up a device that beeped steadily, picking up a powerful energy signature emanating from inside the mountain.
"This is it," Sparda said, his voice low and confident. "The intel Krause gave us checks out. I'm reading a huge energy signature coming from inside the mountain. Whatever Savage is hiding, it's in there."
J'onn J'onzz, who had been quietly scanning the area with his own telepathic abilities, stepped forward. "I can sense it as well. There is something... unnatural within. The energy is volatile, and it's being closely guarded."
Green Lantern glanced toward the heavily fortified entrance of the mountain. There were guard towers, patrolling soldiers, and automated defenses—Savage's forces weren't taking any chances. "That place is locked down tight. We'll need a diversion to get anywhere near it. If we try to go in head-on, we'll be overwhelmed."
Eva, standing beside Sparda, smirked slightly. "We've got that part covered." She turned to Barbara Gordon, who had been silently observing the surroundings.
"Barbara," Eva said, her tone firm and resolute, "call it in."
Barbara nodded, stepping away from the group to pull out her radio. She spoke into it clearly, her voice carrying the weight of command. "Grayson, it's time. Light it up."
At the mention of the name Grayson, Superman's eyes widened slightly, though he kept his reaction subdued. He recognized the name from his own timeline—Dick Grayson, better known as Nightwing, had once been Batman's first partner. However, in this alternate timeline, it was clear that Dick had taken a different path, one still aligned with the resistance.
A few tense moments passed, and then suddenly, the mountainside erupted in a massive explosion. Fire and debris shot into the sky as an outpost near the base of the mountain was reduced to rubble. The sound echoed across the valley, followed by a surge of gunfire as a platoon of resistance fighters engaged Savage's troops in a full-scale firefight.
"That'll do," Eva said with a determined smile. "Let's move."
With the distraction in full swing, the displaced members of the Justice League, along with Sparda, Eva, and Barbara, began their ascent toward the hidden laboratory. They moved swiftly and silently, capitalizing on the chaos below as Savage's forces scrambled to defend against the sudden attack.
As they advanced, Barbara, who had been running alongside Superman, glanced over at him, her curiosity getting the better of her. She had seen enough to know that the Justice League weren't from this world, but there was still so much she didn't understand. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she asked quietly, "Superman, can I ask you something?"
Superman looked down at her, his expression softening. "Of course."
Barbara hesitated briefly, glancing at the others ahead to ensure they weren't listening too closely. "What was your world like? The one you came from? And… what was I like there?"
Superman took a deep breath, aware that his words needed to be carefully chosen. "In our timeline, you were someone incredible, Barbara. You were Batgirl, fighting alongside Batman—your father wasn't just a symbol of hope, but you carried on his legacy in your own way. You helped keep Gotham safe."
Barbara blinked in surprise, her eyes searching his face. "I… I was Batgirl?" There was a mixture of disbelief and pride in her voice, as though she was processing the idea that, in another reality, she had been more than just a resistance fighter.
Superman nodded, keeping his tone respectful and sincere. "Yes, and you were one of the best. Brave, resourceful, and someone we all respected."
Barbara looked away for a moment, clearly affected by the revelation. She had always admired her father's strength and his ability to inspire people, and to know that, in another timeline, she had taken up the mantle in a way that honored his memory filled her with a quiet sense of pride.
"Thank you," she said softly. "It's hard to imagine a world like that."
Superman, mindful of the others' presence, kept his voice low. "In that world, the Justice League exists to protect everyone, not just from threats like Savage, but from all the darkness that tries to take over. It's not perfect, but it's a world where hope still thrives. And people like you… like Batgirl… make that hope possible."
Barbara absorbed his words as they continued their ascent, and though she didn't say much more, it was clear that the knowledge of her counterpart in the Justice League's world had sparked something in her—a renewed sense of determination, perhaps even hope for a future where things could be different.
As they neared the entrance to the hidden lab, Sparda slowed his pace, signaling for the group to stop. He glanced around the area, ensuring the coast was clear. "We'll use the distraction to slip past the outer perimeter. Krause's intel says there's a back entrance to the facility through the ventilation system here."
Eva, standing beside him, nodded. "Once we're inside, we need to move fast. Whatever Savage is hiding, it won't be left unguarded for long."
Green Lantern looked back at the ongoing battle below. "I just hope the resistance can hold out long enough for us to get in and out."
The Flash grinned, despite the tense situation. "Hey, with all of us working together, I'd say we'll be in and out before they even know what hit them."
J'onn, standing at the rear of the group, scanned the area with his telepathic senses once more. "I sense heavy resistance within the facility. We must be prepared for anything."
Superman nodded. "Let's move. This is our best chance to get the answers we need."
With renewed focus, the group pressed on, making their way toward the hidden entrance of the lab. The battle raged behind them, but they had a singular goal: to uncover the secrets Savage had spent decades hiding. And with Sparda and Eva at their side, the Justice League was ready to face whatever awaited them inside.
XXXX
The group finally reached the hidden entrance to the lab, a nondescript door embedded into the mountainside, surrounded by sensors and surveillance. Hawkgirl, ever ready for action, hefted her mace and approached the door with a fierce look in her eyes. "I've got this," she declared, swinging the mace toward the keypad.
Before she could smash it, Green Lantern quickly grabbed her arm, his face serious. "Wait. Something's off."
Hawkgirl shot him an annoyed look, but Green Lantern held up his hand, scanning the area with his ring. A subtle green beam shot out, tracing the hidden lines of a motion sensor. A thin red laser flickered across the surface of the door, revealing a concealed booby trap. He nodded grimly. "Thought so. It's rigged."
He stuck out his hand, allowing the green energy from his ring to trigger the sensor. Instantly, the booby trap activated, but thanks to the shield Green Lantern projected, the lethal trap—a series of automated defense turrets—fired harmlessly into his energy barrier.
Once the trap's fire subsided, J'onn J'onzz stepped forward. His calm, deep voice broke the tension. "I will handle this."
With quiet precision, J'onn phased through the door, becoming intangible as he passed through the thick metal barrier. On the other side, he found several guards stationed nearby. With swift and silent movements, J'onn subdued them all, knocking them unconscious before they had a chance to react.
Among them stood a scientist, frozen with terror, clutching a tablet to his chest. J'onn's glowing red eyes met the scientist's wide, fearful gaze.
"You will open the door," J'onn said softly, though his words carried a heavy authority.
The scientist, trembling, nodded quickly and rushed to the control panel. His fingers shook as he punched in the access code, and the heavy door hissed open, allowing the others to enter.
Green Lantern stepped past the threshold, his eyes scanning the room for any further danger. He turned to the scientist, who looked like he was about to faint. "You can go," Green Lantern said firmly. "And trust me—you want to leave."
The scientist didn't need to be told twice. Without a word, he fled down the hallway, disappearing into the labyrinth of corridors as fast as his legs would carry him.
Once inside, the group spread out, taking in the surroundings. It was clear that this was no ordinary laboratory. It was filled with advanced technology, computers and machines that looked far beyond anything that should exist in this timeline. And in the center of the room stood a massive machine, humming with energy—a device that crackled with temporal power.
J'onn moved toward one of the control terminals, his eyes narrowing as he accessed the data files. "This machine… it's a time portal," he said quietly, scanning the information.
Superman stepped up next to him, his face darkening. "A time portal? That's how the Savage family has kept their power all this time… they've been manipulating history."
J'onn nodded gravely. "I'm looking at the coordinates. The time period this portal is locked onto… it's D-Day. That's how they did it. Vandal Savage's great-grandfather altered the course of World War II by intervening on that day. They didn't just conquer the world through strength—they rewrote history to make sure the Axis powers won."
Hawkgirl, her wings flexing in agitation, gripped her mace tighter. "So that's where we're going. Back to D-Day. We stop them there, and we fix the timeline."
Superman turned to Sparda and Eva, who had remained quiet during the discovery. "We're going back in time to stop this. If we succeed, we'll restore the timeline to what it should be. Do you want to come with us?"
Sparda shook his head slowly, his silver hair catching the dim light of the lab. "No. Eva and I must remain here. This is our fight, in this time. Whatever happens, we need to be here for the resistance."
Eva nodded in agreement, her face soft but resolute. "Our place is here, with the people who still need us. But if you can change the past, you might be able to give this world a chance at something better."
Barbara Gordon, standing near the console, looked torn but ultimately understood their choice. This world still needed its protectors.
Before they could leave, Eva stepped forward and pulled out two folded letters from her coat. She held them out to The Flash, her hands trembling slightly.
"I wrote these letters a few hours ago, before we left the resistance headquarters," she said quietly. "They're for my sons. One for Dante, and one for Vergil. If you return to your timeline, please… give these to them."
The Flash took the letters with surprising seriousness, tucking them into his suit. "You have my word. They'll get these."
Eva gave a small smile, her eyes misting slightly. "Thank you."
Superman, J'onn, Hawkgirl, Green Lantern, and The Flash gathered near the machine, ready to make the jump through the portal. With one final look at Sparda, Eva, and Barbara, Superman nodded. "We'll fix this. We'll make sure your sacrifice means something."
Sparda placed a hand on Superman's shoulder, his grip firm. "Go. And bring an end to this madness."
With that, J'onn activated the portal. A swirling vortex of light and energy burst into existence before them, pulsing with temporal power. The Justice League members exchanged one last glance before stepping into the light, ready to travel back to D-Day—the day the world's fate had been rewritten.
As the portal closed behind them, Sparda and Eva stood together in the quiet of the lab, watching as the glow of the portal faded away. They had given the Justice League everything they had. Now, it was up to them to rewrite history.
XXXX
Back in the Watchtower, the silence was thick with tension. Batman was deep in thought, analyzing every possible way to track down the Justice League and recover them from whatever timeline they'd been displaced to. At his side, Danteleaned against the console, flipping a coin absentmindedly, trying to distract himself from the mounting pressure of the situation. The thought of Sparda and Eva battling it out in some alternate history timeline weighed on him, though he wouldn't admit it.
Just then, Dante's phone buzzed. He fished it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. It was Trish. He answered the call, his voice casual despite the circumstances. "Trish. What's up?"
On the other end, Trish's voice came through, brisk but familiar. "Dante, we've got a lead. Lady and I reached out to some of the magic users we know from the supernatural community. Remember Zatanna?"
Dante's face twisted into a slight grimace at the mention of Zatanna. "Yeah… I remember her." His tone was full of a mix of fondness and embarrassment, recalling an incident during one of her shows in Chicago. It had not gone as smoothly as he would've liked—let's just say, he'd been a little too flippant around her magic and paid the price.
Trish's voice was amused. "I figured you would. Well, Zatanna's had some experience with temporal spells. She's agreed to meet with us, and she might be able to help track down the League. I'll set up a meeting between you, Batman, and her. Lady and I will be there too."
Dante sighed in relief but still had his trademark snark. "Well, I appreciate it, Trish. Just hope she doesn't decide to turn me into a rabbit or something for old times' sake."
Trish chuckled. "Just behave yourself, Dante, and maybe you won't end up hopping around the Watchtower."
After the call ended, Dante pocketed his phone and turned to Batman, who was still focused on the array of data and screens in front of him.
"Hey, Bats," Dante said, walking over. "Got some good news for you. Trish and Lady got in contact with Zatanna. You know, the magic user? She's got experience with temporal spells and might be able to help us track down your missing team."
Batman's eyes shifted slightly toward Dante, his expression unreadable but clearly intrigued. "I know Zatanna," he said, his voice calm and low. "Her father, Zatara, was my teacher. I've known her since I was a student of his, and we've worked together before."
Dante raised an eyebrow. "So you're already familiar with her magic tricks, huh?"
Batman, ever serious, nodded. "Her skills are exceptional, especially when it comes to manipulation of time and space. If anyone can help us get the League back, it's Zatanna."
Dante smirked. "Good to know. Guess I'm in safe hands then. Just so long as she doesn't remember the last time we met."
Batman gave him a rare, dry glance. "If you've crossed Zatanna in the past, I'd suggest you tread lightly."
Dante chuckled but nodded in agreement. "Message received."
With that, Batman stood up from his position at the console, his mind already working on the next steps. "Set up the meeting. We'll need all the help we can get. If Zatanna can help us open a portal to where the others are, we might still have a chance to recover them before anything permanent happens."
Dante nodded, dialing up Trish again. "Alright, I'll tell Trish to set it up. Looks like we're about to dive into the magical side of things."
Within a few minutes, the arrangements were made. The meeting would take place in one of Zatanna's safe houses—a hidden magical space where she could safely perform her spells. Batman trusted Zatanna implicitly, knowing the extent of her powers. He had seen firsthand how her magic could bend reality itself, and if anyone could get them the answers they needed, it was her.
As Dante closed the call, he couldn't help but grin to himself. "Magic, huh? This should be interesting."
Batman, ever the pragmatist, moved with his usual precision. "This isn't just about magic. It's about bringing our team back. Let's keep our focus there."
Dante rolled his eyes, but he respected Batman's commitment. "Alright, alright. I'll save the magic tricks for later."
As they prepared to leave the Watchtower, Batman's thoughts briefly wandered to Zatanna's father, the late Zatara. The lessons he had learned from him as a young man still lingered in his mind. Zatanna had grown into an incredible sorceress, just as powerful and principled as her father. She would come through for them, as she always did.
With a meeting on the horizon and a new path toward recovering the Justice League, Batman and Dante set off, ready to see what magic could do to solve this time-bending crisis.
XXXX
The dimly lit safehouse had an air of mystery about it, the faint glow of magical wards cast eerie shadows across the walls. It was one of Zatanna'smany hidden sanctuaries, tucked away from prying eyes in a pocket of reality where magic reigned supreme. As Dante and Batman entered the space, Zatanna, already waiting for them, turned to face them with a playful smirk.
"Dante," she said, her voice smooth and teasing. "The son of the legendary Dark Knight Sparda."
Dante grinned, waving casually as if they were old friends. "Hey, Z. Still mad at me for Chicago?"
Zatanna's eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as she uttered a backward spell. "Nwod uoy gniod kcab."
Before Dante could react, his body phased through the floor as if it had turned to liquid, leaving only his upper half sticking out, suspended in the air like a cartoon character stuck in quicksand.
Dante let out a chuckle, unfazed by the magic prank. "Magic," he muttered. "The other thing I hate besides demons."
Zatanna, amused by his reaction, waved her hand again, this time casting a spell to reverse the effect. "Emoc pu kcab," she said, and Dante's body lifted smoothly out of the floor, returning to normal, unharmed.
Dante brushed himself off with a grin. "Good to see you haven't lost your touch."
Zatanna chuckled, but her attention shifted as her gaze landed on Batman, who had been standing silently beside Dante, watching the magical exchange with his usual stoicism.
"Good to see you too, Batman," Zatanna said, her tone softer, respectful.
Batman nodded, his voice calm. "It's been a while."
Zatanna smiled, though her eyes carried the weight of their shared history. "I heard you joined the Justice League after the Imperium invasion. I have to admit, I was a little surprised."
Batman's expression didn't change, his tone matter-of-fact. "I'm not exactly a people person. But I've come to learn that no man is an island. Sometimes, you need to trust others."
Zatanna nodded, clearly understanding Batman's journey toward opening up to others. "You've changed, Bruce."
Without further pleasantries, Zatanna waved her hand and a large, swirling map appeared in midair, depicting Europe in its war-torn state during World War II.
"Let's get to the point," she said, her expression turning serious. "I've been able to track your missing comrades. They were displaced into an alternate present briefly, one where the Axis powers won World War II—a reality altered by someone tampering with the timeline. But they're no longer in the present. They've been sent back to the past—specifically Europe during World War II."
Batman's eyes narrowed as he studied the map, processing the implications. "That's where history was altered."
Zatanna nodded. "Exactly. That's where the timeline was tampered with, and that's where your comrades are now, trying to stop it. I can open a vortex to send you back to that exact time period, but there's a catch."
Dante raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the spell. "What's the catch?"
Zatanna's voice dropped slightly. "Only one person can go through the vortex. The spell is precise, but unstable. Sending more than one person risks the entire portal collapsing."
Batman processed the information in silence, weighing the options. Before he could speak, Dante casually stepped forward. "Well, guess that settles it. I'll go. Someone's gotta monitor this space station thing, right, Bats?" He flashed his usual grin, though there was seriousness behind his eyes. "Besides, I've got a knack for kicking demon and Nazi butt."
Batman, after a brief pause, gave a small nod of agreement. "You're right. Someone has to stay here to ensure everything stays secure. And you're well-equipped for what you'll face."
Dante turned to Zatanna, who was already preparing the spell, her hands glowing with arcane energy. As she began the incantation, she glanced at Dante, her voice soft but firm. "Dante… I heard about Redgrave City. About Urizen." She hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Despite what happened in Chicago, I wanted to help you back then."
Dante's eyes softened, and his grin faded to something more genuine. "I appreciate that, Z, but it was a family matter. Some things you gotta handle on your own."
Zatanna nodded in understanding. "I get it. But… what happened out there? In Redgrave?"
Dante chuckled to himself, remembering the chaos that had unfolded with Vergil's demonic half and how it had all come to a head. "Let's just say that me, my brother, and Nero finally exorcised the ghost of the Sparda family's past. Urizen was just the final piece of a long, messed-up puzzle."
Zatanna smiled softly at his response, sensing the weight behind his words. "I'm glad you made it through."
Dante shrugged, his grin returning. "What can I say? We're a stubborn bunch."
As the conversation wound down, the vortex Zatanna had been preparing began to swirl into existence, a shimmering portal of time and space. The power it emitted made the air crackle with energy, and the room's temperature seemed to drop as the portal solidified.
Zatanna stepped back, her eyes focused on the portal. "It's ready."
Dante glanced at Batman one last time. "You hold down the fort, Bats. I'll be back with your team before you know it."
Batman gave a slight nod. "Good luck, Dante."
Without another word, Dante stepped toward the vortex, pausing only for a moment before he threw himself into the swirling energy. The portal closed behind him with a flash, leaving the room silent.
Zatanna sighed, the weight of the spell's magic still heavy in the air. She glanced at Batman, her eyes serious. "Let's hope Dante finds them in time. History is on the line."
Batman's expression was unreadable, but his voice was steady. "If anyone can get the job done, it's Dante."
XXXX
Caen France
June 5 1944
The crackle of temporal energy faded as Dante emerged unceremoniously from the swirling time portal, landing with a heavy thud on the dusty, crumbling floor of a ruined building. The smell of ash and burnt wood filled the air as bits of debris fell from the shattered ceiling above. For a brief moment, Dante lay there, blinking up at the broken rafters and splintered beams, a little disoriented by the rough landing.
"Well, that wasn't exactly a first-class trip," Dante muttered, pushing himself up onto his feet. He brushed off the dirt and dust clinging to his red coat, cracking his neck with a sharp twist before standing tall, his usual smirk finding its way back to his face.
He glanced around, taking in his surroundings. The building was a shell of its former self, bombed out and hollowed by the ravages of war. Through the gaps in the broken walls, Dante could see the gray, overcast skies and the distant flashes of artillery fire lighting up the horizon. The distant rumble of tanks and gunfire echoed in the distance, the unmistakable sounds of battle.
"Looks like I'm in the right place," Dante mused, resting his hands on his hips. He took a slow breath, the faint scent of gunpowder and smoke hanging in the air.
Looking out at the landscape, his eyes narrowed as he surveyed the war-torn streets below. There were Allied forces moving through the ruined city, engaging with Axis soldiers in brutal, close-quarter combat. The sight was like something straight out of a war documentary—except now, Dante was living it.
"So, this is June 5, 1944," he muttered to himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "How the hell did the Krauts manage to beat the Allies? Guess that's something the Justice League can explain. If I can find them, that is."
Dante gave a quick shrug, as though brushing off the enormity of the historical chaos surrounding him. With a snap of his fingers, the familiar weight of Rebellion—his trusted sword—materialized in his hand. He swung it onto his shoulder with practiced ease, the blade gleaming even in the gloom of the ruined building.
"Alright," he said to himself, his voice laced with confidence, "time to find the gang."
With that, Dante descended the rickety, half-destroyed staircase that led him down to street level. His boots crunched on broken glass and rubble as he moved through the remnants of the upper floor. As he reached the bottom, he stopped for a moment, peering through the jagged hole in the side of the building.
From his elevated position, Dante could see the chaotic scene unfolding below. Allied soldiers, grim and determined, were pinned down by the relentless fire of Axis troops entrenched in fortified positions. Tanks rumbled down the cracked streets, while bombed-out vehicles smoldered in the ruins. It was war in all its brutal reality, the sights and sounds eerily familiar from the documentaries Dante had once watched.
"Looks just like one of those old war flicks," he muttered, shaking his head. "Except this one's live."
Dante knew he had no time to waste. The Justice League had been sent back here for a reason, and if they were going to stop whatever history-bending scheme was in play, they'd need all the help they could get. He just needed to find them first.
With Rebellion resting casually on his shoulder, Dante stepped out of the ruined building and into the streets of Caen, France, ready to face whatever—or whoever—came his way. The war raged around him, but he wasn't fazed. He had been through enough battles in his life to know that, no matter what the odds were, he was ready to fight.
His smirk widened as he took in the destruction. "Well, I always did like making an entrance."
Now, it was just a matter of finding the League—and making sure history didn't get rewritten again.
XXXX
The chaos of the battlefield raged on, artillery fire and gunshots echoing through the war-torn streets of Caen, France. Dante surveyed the scene, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against a half-collapsed wall, his mind racing on how to make his mark in this mess. The Allies were holding their ground, but the brutal assault from the Axis forces was unrelenting.
Dante's sharp eyes caught sight of something moving through the debris-laden streets. His brow furrowed as the towering silhouette of a War Wheel emerged from behind a ruined building. The massive war machine was unlike anything he'd ever seen—several stories tall, a single enormous wheel with mounted twin cannons and a smaller anti-personnel turret on its side.
"Well, that's something you don't see every day," Dante muttered, raising an eyebrow as the War Wheel rolled forward, crushing everything in its path. The Axis soldiers operating the cannons fired at will, targeting a nearby Allied tank that had been stuck on a destroyed wall. The War Wheel'scannons fired with devastating precision, and with a single shot, the Allied tank was reduced to a heap of twisted metal and flames.
Allied troops scrambled, retreating tactically as more War Wheels burst through the crumbling buildings, their cannons ripping through the battlefield, leaving destruction in their wake.
"Okay," Dante said to himself, watching the carnage with a sigh. "Time to crash the party."
Just as one of the War Wheels lined up to obliterate another tank that was caught on a jagged wall of rubble, Dante leaped into action. With a sudden burst of speed, he threw himself between the tank and the oncoming blast, summoning Rebellion in a flash of light. With a cocky grin, he swung the sword upward, deflecting the powerful energy beam into the sky, where it exploded harmlessly.
The Allied troops gawked in disbelief as Dante casually stood between them and the massive war machine, spinning his sword once before resting it on his shoulder.
"Hey!" Dante shouted at the War Wheel, his grin widening. "Why don't ya pick on someone your own size?"
The Axis soldiers controlling the War Wheel hesitated for a second, clearly unsure of what to make of this devil-may-care newcomer who had just deflected their attack with nothing more than a sword. But Dante wasn't about to give them time to think.
With a snap of his fingers, Dante summoned Cavalry, his devil-arm motorcycle, which roared into existence with a demonic growl. The sleek, glowing bike appeared next to him, and Dante swung onto the seat, revving the engine with reckless abandon.
"Let's go for a ride," Dante said, revving Cavalry once more as he sped off, zipping through the streets at breakneck speed. The War Wheel, momentarily thrown off, pivoted its massive cannon toward him, firing off shots as it began to give chase.
Dante weaved through the debris-strewn streets, drawing the War Wheel away from the beleaguered Allied forces. Bullets and energy blasts followed him, but he was always just one step ahead, his motorcycle roaring through the ruins with impossible agility.
"Come on, tin can," Dante taunted, glancing over his shoulder as the War Wheel barreled after him. "You gotta do better than that!"
The War Wheel rolled after him, its massive cannons firing, but Dante was relentless, luring the machine deeper into the wreckage of the city. The narrow streets and crumbled buildings limited the War Wheel's mobility, and Dante could sense it slowing down, struggling to maneuver through the tight spaces.
"This is where the fun begins," Dante muttered under his breath as he skidded Cavalry to a halt, the tires screeching as the motorcycle came to a sudden stop. He hopped off with a flourish, gripping Rebellion tightly as he turned to face the towering war machine.
The War Wheel, unable to stop in time, barreled forward. Dante leaped into the air, his sword glowing with demonic energy as he brought it down in a powerful strike. The blade cleaved through one of the War Wheel's cannons, sending sparks flying as the massive weapon was sliced clean off.
With a crash, the War Wheel tilted, its balance thrown off by the loss of its weapon. Dante landed gracefully atop the machine, his boots hitting the metal with a loud clang. He smirked as the soldiers inside the War Wheel scrambled, trying to regain control.
"You should've stayed in the shop," Dante quipped, raising Rebellion for another strike. With a swift, brutal motion, he plunged the sword deep into the heart of the War Wheel's mechanical core, sending waves of demonic energy coursing through the machine. Sparks flew, and the war machine shuddered violently before erupting in a fiery explosion.
Dante backflipped off the machine as it crumbled to the ground, the towering behemoth reduced to a smoking wreck.
Dusting himself off, Dante glanced back at the stunned Allied soldiers, who were now cautiously peeking out from their positions. He gave them a quick two-fingered salute.
"Don't worry, boys. I've got this."
Before the dust could settle, another War Wheel rumbled into view, its cannons primed and aimed at Dante.
With a grin, Dante summoned Cavalry once more and revved the engine. "Round two, huh? Let's see if you can keep up."
With that, he sped off, leading the next War Wheel into another high-speed chase through the ruined city, ready to take it down in the only way he knew how—loud, fast, and with plenty of style.
The war wasn't over yet, but Dante was just getting started. And somewhere in the chaos, the Justice League was out there, waiting to be found.
The second War Wheel was no match for Dante's style. With a whirlwind of acrobatics and expertly timed strikes, he tore through the hulking machine, making it look effortless. As the final explosion erupted behind him, Dante casually flipped off the wreckage, landing smoothly on the ground. He dusted off his red coat, clearly pleased with himself.
The nearby Allied soldiers, who had been watching in stunned silence, finally relaxed as the dust settled. They exchanged amazed glances, wondering who this devil-may-care warrior was.
Dante, always the charmer, gave them a thumbs-up and a cocky grin. "Don't sweat it, fellas. All in a day's work."
One of the soldiers, still holding his rifle, stepped forward, his brow furrowed in disbelief. "Who… who the hell are you?"
Dante smirked, spinning Rebellion once before resting it on his shoulder. "Just your friendly neighborhood knight," he said, clearly enjoying the moment. With that, he hopped onto Cavalry, his demonic motorcycle roaring to life beneath him.
The Allied soldier shook his head in amazement, muttering to himself, "I gotta get me one of those…"
Dante revved the engine and, with a casual wave, sped off into the chaos of the battlefield, leaving the soldiers behind still shaking their heads in disbelief.
It didn't take long for Dante to track down the Justice League. Even from a distance, he could spot the familiar figures of Superman, Hawkgirl, Green Lantern, J'onn J'onzz, and The Flash, who were locked in combat alongside the Allied troops, doing everything they could to turn the tide of the battle.
The Allies were rallying against the Axis forces, and the League was right in the thick of it. They moved swiftly and efficiently, taking down War Wheels and decimating enemy lines. The sight of Superman lifting a destroyed tank and hurling it into an advancing Axis line was unmistakable.
Dante grinned as he revved Cavalry's engine again and sped down the hill, weaving through the debris and the ongoing firefight. As he approached, he couldn't help but call out in his usual playful manner.
"Hey!" Dante shouted, his voice carrying over the roar of the battle. "Mind if I join the party?"
The Flash turned at the sound of Dante's voice and broke into a grin. "Dante! About time you showed up!"
Dante skidded Cavalry to a stop just beside the group, hopping off in a single fluid motion. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Fashionably late and all that," he said with a smirk. "So, what's the deal? What's going on here?"
Superman, still in the middle of deflecting artillery fire with his heat vision, turned briefly to Dante. His face was serious, but there was a hint of relief at seeing him. "We'll explain later," Superman said quickly. "Right now, we need to stop those War Wheels from decimating the Allied troops."
Dante gave a mock salute, his grin widening. "No problem, Supes. Consider it done."
Without wasting another second, Dante hopped back onto Cavalry, revving the engine loudly. The familiar hum of demonic energy pulsed through the bike, ready for action.
J'onn nodded, his calm voice cutting through the chaos. "We need to strike fast and prevent the Axis forces from gaining any more ground."
Green Lantern created a massive energy construct to shield the remaining Allied forces, while Hawkgirl flew overhead, smashing enemy vehicles with her mace.
Dante, as usual, was all too happy to dive into the chaos. "Alright, let's get this show on the road."
With one last rev of Cavalry, Dante took off, speeding back into the heart of the battle. The War Wheels didn't stand a chance.
XXXX
The battlefield had fallen silent, the last of the War Wheels lying in smoldering heaps as the Justice League and Dantestood amidst the aftermath. The surviving Allied troops, battered but victorious, began to cheer, their spirits lifted after what seemed like a miraculous turn of events.
Some of the soldiers approached Wonder Woman and Hawkgirl, their admiration clear. One of the soldiers grinned as he tipped his helmet. "Thanks, dolls. We wouldn't have made it without you."
Wonder Woman smiled politely, offering a small nod in return. Beside her, Hawkgirl crossed her arms and muttered under her breath, "Dolls? Seriously?" She shook her head but let it slide, her wings fluttering slightly as she stretched.
Meanwhile, Dante, who had just received a quick summary of what had caused history to go haywire, leaned against Cavalry with his usual cocky smirk. "So let me get this straight," he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "All we gotta do is stop Savage's great-grandpa, and the Allies win the war? Sounds easy enough."
Green Lantern chuckled at Dante's casual tone, though he knew it wouldn't be that simple. "In theory, yeah. But finding him, that's the tricky part."
Dante shrugged. "Meh, tricky's kinda my thing. So, where do we start?"
J'onn J'onzz, who had been quietly examining a strange component he found in the wreckage of the last War Wheel, stepped forward. "I believe I may have found something." He held up a small metallic device, its surface covered in intricate circuitry.
Green Lantern took the component from J'onn, his eyes narrowing as he inspected it closely. "Wait a minute... These are transistors."
Dante raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? So what?"
Green Lantern shook his head, his tone more serious now. "Transistors weren't invented until after the war. This tech is decades ahead of its time. It doesn't belong here."
J'onn nodded. "Exactly. It's possible that Vandal Savage III has been influencing the outcome of this war, providing advanced technology to his ancestors. This may have started months ago—perhaps even years—to ensure the Axis powers won."
Hawkgirl, still holding her mace, frowned. "That's great and all, but we've got a more immediate problem. You know, the kind that involves more of those giant death machines."
Right on cue, the ground began to rumble once more. From beneath the rubble and earth, more War Wheels burst forth, their cannons charging as they prepared to wreak more havoc on the already decimated battlefield.
Superman clenched his fists, his eyes glowing red with heat vision as he took a step forward. "We've got to help the troops. They won't stand a chance against more of those things."
J'onn glanced at the machines but shook his head. "I'll fly to Berlin. I believe the answers we seek lies there."
Before J'onn could move, Wonder Woman stepped forward, her expression determined. "Wait. I can't let you go into enemy territory alone, J'onn. It's too dangerous."
Superman nodded in agreement. "Diana's right. You'll need backup in Berlin. We've got things covered here. You and Diana can handle the search for Savage in Berlin."
J'onn hesitated for a moment, sensing the logic in Superman's words. He knew the team could hold their own against the war machines, but he also knew that time was running out. If they didn't find the source of Savage's interference soon, the war—and history itself—would be lost.
"Very well," J'onn finally said, his voice calm. "We'll head to Berlin and find the source of Savage's influence."
Wonder Woman smiled, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. "Let's end this."
Superman turned to the others. "We'll keep the War Wheels busy. Once you've got the information, we'll regroup."
Dante revved Cavalry's engine, his grin widening as he watched the massive war machines lumber forward. "Guess that means it's time for round two. Alright, let's go!"
With J'onn and Wonder Woman preparing to depart for Berlin while Superman, Green Lantern, Hawkgirl, and Dante charge into the fray, ready to face down the next wave of War Wheels. The stakes were higher than ever, but the League was determined to restore history—and stop Vandal Savage—once and for all.
XXXX
As the sun set and the night deepened over the war-torn fields of Caen, Dante and The Flash had formed an unexpected, but effective, team. The battlefield, still littered with the remnants of destroyed War Wheels and Axis troops, was in a brief lull. But for Dante and Flash, the chaos was far from over.
The two moved quickly through the crumbling streets, taking out remaining enemy positions with their unique combination of speed and devilish flair. Flash darted around, disarming soldiers before they could even register his presence, while Dante handled the heavier firepower, cutting down any remaining Axis tanks or vehicles with his sword Rebellion or the rumbling power of Cavalry.
As they regrouped after dismantling yet another Axis outpost, Flash, leaning casually against a wall, glanced over at Dante with his usual quick wit. "So, how's Bats doing in the timeline we came from? He's gotta be pacing the Watchtower by now, right?"
Dante laughed, sheathing Rebellion over his shoulder. "Oh, you know him. Brooding, scheming, staring out into space dramatically. Pretty much the usual." He smirked. "Honestly, he could give my brother Vergil a run for his money. The guy's so uptight, it's like he's allergic to fun."
Flash grinned widely. "Right? I've been saying that for months! I keep trying to get him to lighten up, but nope, stone wall as usual."
Dante revved Cavalry's engine, his smile widening. "Well, next time, just tell him he's got competition in the brooding department. Vergil's practically the king of it."
Flash gave a thumbs up. "Noted. I'll see if I can get him to crack a smile."
Meanwhile, across the battlefield, Green Lantern was doing his best to keep a group of Allied troops alive as they attempted to retreat. He stood at the front of the convoy, forming a glowing green construct wall with his ring to block the incoming fire from one of the Axis War Wheel cannons. The cannon's blasts reverberated through the night, and with each hit, Green Lantern's shield flickered.
His ring was running dangerously low on power, the green glow dimming with every passing second. Sweat dripped down his face as he gritted his teeth, shouting to Superman through his comms. "Supes, I can't hold this much longer! Hurry!"
Superman wasted no time, swooping in with a burst of speed. In a show of strength, he lifted the entire convoy of soldiers and carried them away to safety, just as the War Wheel's secondary cannon aimed for the bridge Green Lantern stood on.
With a deafening blast, the cannon fired, hitting the bridge and sending a shockwave through the structure. Green Lantern's shield protected him from the brunt of the explosion, but the impact still threw him backward, crashing into the debris. He hit the ground hard, bruised but unharmed, his ring sputtering weakly.
Groaning as he pushed himself up, John Stewart tried to summon another construct, but the ring emitted only a faint spark before fizzling out completely. His face tightened—his power was drained. Recognizing the need for a tactical retreat, he stood up, scanning the battlefield.
"Looks like I'm going on foot," he muttered to himself, frustration evident in his voice.
He spotted a nearby Allied soldier, pinned down by enemy fire. Without hesitation, Green Lantern sprinted toward him, dodging bullets and debris. He reached the soldier, slung him over his shoulder, and began running, dodging the chaos erupting around them.
Just as he thought he was out of options, Dante roared up on Cavalry, the motorcycle's demonic engine growling as it came to a screeching halt next to him. "Need a lift?" Dante quipped, his usual cocky grin plastered on his face.
Green Lantern, panting slightly from the effort, lifted the soldier onto Cavalry behind Dante. "Get him out of here, Dante. He needs medical attention."
Dante raised an eyebrow. "What about you?"
Green Lantern waved him off. "Don't worry about me. I'll provide a distraction. Just go!"
Without wasting any time, Dante nodded and revved the engine, zipping off into the night with the soldier in tow. Green Lantern watched him go, knowing that the Axis forces would focus on him now. He turned back toward the battlefield, preparing to face the enemy head-on.
Though he was without his ring's power, John Stewart was a Marine at heart. Even without constructs, he would find a way to hold the line.
As Dante disappeared into the distance, Green Lantern smirked, muttering to himself, "I just hope I'm not too good a distraction."
Despite Green Lantern standing alone, his back to the enemy as he prepares to draw their fire. Somewhere in the chaos, the Justice League and Dante were still holding the line, but the battle was far from over. The night was long, and the mission had only just begun.
XXXX
As the War Wheel lumbered forward, its cannons locking onto the retreating figure of Green Lantern, he sprinted across the battlefield with calculated precision. His mind raced through tactical maneuvers—his goal was clear: draw the fire away from the retreating Allied soldiers. Without the power of his ring, he relied on his training as a Marine. Even though his lungs burned and his muscles ached, John Stewart pushed forward, zigzagging through the debris and the wreckage of war-torn Caen.
The War Wheel's massive cannons fired, sending shockwaves through the ground as shells exploded around him, throwing chunks of earth and rubble into the air. Each explosion brought him closer to being caught, but Green Lantern kept moving, his gaze sharp, focused.
"They're locked on me," John muttered through gritted teeth. "Good. That means the troops are safe."
At the same time, Dante raced back toward the shore on Cavalry, his demonic motorcycle kicking up dust and ash as he sped through the chaos. He had already handed off the wounded soldier to Hawkgirl, who intercepted them mid-run. As she touched down, her wings spread wide, she immediately took the injured man from Dante, cradling him with surprising tenderness.
"Where's Green Lantern?" Hawkgirl asked sharply, looking back toward the thick of the battlefield.
Dante, his smirk fading as the situation settled in, explained while revving Cavalry's engine. "Lantern's playing decoy. He's out there keeping those oversized cans focused on him so the soldiers can get out safely."
Hawkgirl scowled, her grip tightening around her mace. "Of course he is. Damn stubborn."
Without missing a beat, Dante gave her a nod. "I'm heading back in to find him. Flash is tagging along." His tone was determined, but his usual cocky edge remained intact.
Hawkgirl lifted off the ground, giving Dante one last glance. "Bring him back in one piece, Dante. I'm going to get this soldier to safety."
Dante flashed her a grin. "No promises, but I'll try."
XXXX
Within moments, Dante was back on Cavalry, weaving through the remnants of the battlefield with The Flash trailing close behind him. The speedster zipped in and out of Dante's line of sight, scouting ahead and doubling back as they moved deeper into the war zone. The two of them made an efficient team, but despite their best efforts, Green Lanternwas nowhere to be found.
Flash darted back to Dante's side, his expression worried. "I've been all over this sector, man! I can't find Lantern anywhere."
Dante's brow furrowed as he scanned the destruction around them. "He's gotta be out here somewhere," Dante said, though the uncertainty in his voice was clear. "That guy's tough, but even he can't keep dodging those blasts forever."
The explosions continued in the distance, the War Wheel's cannons still blasting, but it was impossible to tell if they were locked onto John or something else now. The ground shook beneath them as artillery fire thundered nearby, and the once clear night was now filled with smoke and the haze of battle.
Flash paused, rubbing the back of his head, his normally light-hearted demeanor replaced with real concern. "I'm starting to worry, Dante. He's not showing up on any of my runs, and the longer we're out here, the worse it's getting."
Dante ground his teeth, gripping Rebellion tightly as he pulled Cavalry to a stop. "Alright. We split up and search different zones. He can't have gone too far."
Flash gave a quick nod, his usual banter absent in the face of the situation. "Got it. I'll cover the west sector. You take the east."
Dante revved Cavalry once more, determination etched into his face. "If I find him first, I'll send up a signal."
Flash disappeared in a blur of red and yellow light, speeding off toward his sector while Dante took off in the opposite direction, scanning every corner of the battlefield as he went.
But as the night deepened and the fires of war continued to burn, Green Lantern remained missing. The clock was ticking, and every moment brought new dangers to the battlefield—and new questions about where their friend had gone.
Dante sped into the darkness, his mind racing as he searched for Green Lantern. The battle was still raging, but now, the real fight was to find John before it was too late.
XXXX
The moon hung low over the battlefield, casting an eerie light across the war-torn city of Caen. Dante and The Flashstood side by side, both exhausted from their frantic search for Green Lantern. Despite their best efforts, they hadn't been able to find any trace of him. The anxiety between them was palpable.
Flash, looking more concerned than usual, zipped back to Dante's side, his voice edged with frustration. "I've checked everywhere, man. No sign of GL. It's like he just vanished."
Dante frowned, thinking hard about their next move. The longer Green Lantern was missing, the more dangerous things were getting. Finally, after a moment of silence, Dante made a decision.
"Alright, listen," Dante said, his tone more serious than usual. "You need to head back to the others. Superman and the rest of the crew are holding the line, and the Allied soldiers still need help. Go back to the shore, help them out."
Flash blinked, caught off guard by the sudden directive. "But—" he started to protest.
Dante cut him off, his tone firm but not unkind. "I'll find Lantern. Someone's gotta keep looking for him, and you're the fastest guy here. The troops need you more than I do. Go."
Flash hesitated, clearly torn between wanting to help Dante and knowing Dante was right. After a moment, Flash sighed in defeat. "Fine. But you'd better find him, Dante."
Dante smirked, a small glint of confidence in his eyes. "I always get the job done. Now, get going, Speedy."
With a begrudging nod, Flash zipped off in a blur of lightning, racing back toward the shores to assist the others. Dante watched him disappear before taking a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for another sweep of Caen.
The ruined city loomed ahead, silent and foreboding under the night sky. Green Lantern had to be somewhere. Dante revved Cavalry and took off once more, weaving through the debris-strewn streets, scanning every shadow, every corner for a sign of his missing comrade.
But after what felt like an eternity, he came up empty once again. Frustration simmered in his chest as he steered Cavalry back toward the shore, his mind racing with questions. Where was John? Was he captured? Injured? Worse?
"Come on, Lantern," Dante muttered to himself as he sped through the war-torn streets. "You better be safe."
As he approached the coastline, his thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakable sound of fighter planes screaming overhead. Dante glanced up just in time to see a squadron of Axis fighter planes making a sharp pass. One of them locked onto his position, and before he could react, the plane fired, the blast hitting dangerously close.
The explosion sent Dante flying off Cavalry, crashing into the ground with a thud. His motorcycle vanished into thin air, but Dante knew it wasn't destroyed—just returning to him in due time. Shaking the dust off, Dante groaned as he stood up, brushing himself off.
"Well, that was rude," he muttered, looking up at the sky just in time to see the planes making another pass. They circled back, ready for another strafing run.
Dante cracked his neck, his familiar cocky grin returning as he readied Rebellion. "Alright, boys, let's dance."
But just as Dante prepared to face the squadron head-on, a new player entered the scene.
Out of nowhere, a sleek fighter plane swooped in from above, unleashing a flurry of precision shots that took down several of the enemy planes in one swift pass. The Axis planes erupted in flames, spiraling to the ground in smoking wreckage. Dante, momentarily stunned by the aerial display, grinned even wider as he realized he had some unexpected backup.
With Dante's assistance, the last of the enemy planes were swiftly dealt with. He sliced through the final fighter with ease, sending it crashing into the sand. The sky cleared, leaving only the victorious fighter plane that had saved his hide moments earlier.
As the plane descended gracefully to the ground, Dante wiped the dust off his coat and sauntered toward it, intrigued. The plane touched down, and the cockpit opened with a hiss. Out stepped Lady Blackhawk, her flight jacket flaring behind her as she hopped down, her posture full of confidence and authority.
Dante gave her an appreciative once-over, his grin not fading in the slightest. "Well, well, well," he said, leaning casually on Rebellion. "Looks like I've got an ace pilot on my side now."
Lady Blackhawk glanced at him, her brow raised as she gave him a once-over in return, clearly sizing him up. "You must be the hotshot I've been hearing about," she said, her tone cool and professional. "You took down a couple of those tin cans earlier, right?"
Dante chuckled, tilting his head. "Guilty as charged."
For a moment, the two stared at each other, both full of confidence and amusement at the situation. It was clear that Lady Blackhawk had no trouble holding her own, and Dante, ever the charmer, wasn't about to let the moment pass without a little banter.
"Name's Dante," he said, offering his hand with a grin. "Professional demon hunter, part-time war machine destroyer."
Lady Blackhawk smirked, shaking his hand. "Zinda Blake. Lady Blackhawk. And as you can see, I handle the skies."
Dante chuckled again, clearly impressed. "I can see that. Gotta say, not bad. Not bad at all."
As the two stood there, their impromptu introduction complete, Dante couldn't help but feel that, with Lady Blackhawkjoining the fray, things were about to get even more interesting.
XXXX
The Blackhawks' base of operations was a well-hidden hub nestled deep behind Allied lines, fortified and bustling with activity as they prepared for their next mission. Dante, never one to miss an opportunity to explore, casually strolled through the base, taking in the sights. His red coat and larger-than-life presence stood out amidst the soldiers and pilots in their olive drab uniforms.
As Dante wandered, inspecting old warplanes and crates of supplies, he noticed the strategic maps and charts pinned to the walls. It reminded him that, despite the chaos, everything here had a purpose, and that purpose was to win this war.
Just then, another woman in uniform approached, her sharp gaze immediately locking onto Dante. She had a commanding presence, her Russian-born American heritage evident in her no-nonsense demeanor. It was Natalie Reed, one of the Blackhawks' top strategists.
She turned to Zinda Blake, who stood nearby, and asked with a raised eyebrow, "Zinda, who's the guy in red?"
Zinda, smirking at the situation, gestured toward Dante. "Natalie, this is Dante. He's the one who's been stirring up trouble on the battlefield today."
Dante flashed his usual grin and gave a mock bow. "Pleasure to meet you, Natalie. Don't mind the red—figured I'd make it easier for the bad guys to see me."
Natalie crossed her arms, looking him up and down, clearly unimpressed but curious. "Bold choice for a battlefield, Dante. Or perhaps you just like drawing attention?"
Feigning being hurt, Dante placed a hand over his chest. "Hey now, I'm sensitive about my fashion choices."
Zinda chuckled, shaking her head, while Natalie simply rolled her eyes and returned to the large table covered with floor plans and maps. As she leaned over, Dante's attention shifted, his eyes locking onto the detailed blueprints sprawled across the surface.
"Looks like you've got something big going on here," Dante said, stepping closer. "What's the deal with these plans?"
Zinda, glancing at Natalie, then back at Dante, began explaining. "We're planning a rescue mission. A few of our Blackhawk comrades were captured by the Germans and are being held in a prison camp deep in enemy territory. Natalie and I were about to head out on the mission, but there are… complications."
Natalie nodded grimly, pointing to various points on the map. "The camp is heavily fortified. There are anti-aircraft batteries all around, making an aerial assault impossible. The watchtowers are reinforced with bulletproof glass, so we can't take out the guards with snipers. And if any of the guards suspect an attack, the camp goes into immediate lockdown. It'll be nearly impossible to break them out without raising the alarm."
Dante listened, nodding thoughtfully. He then gave them both a confident grin. "Sounds like you're in need of someone who can take out those batteries and towers quietly, huh? And from what I've heard, I'm your guy."
Zinda and Natalie exchanged a glance. "Given the reports we've heard about your… talents, Dante," Natalie said with a faint smile, "we think you'd be the perfect candidate for this job. If you take out those defenses, we can enter without too much of a fuss."
Dante smirked, cracking his knuckles. "No problem. Consider it done."
Zinda placed a hand on his shoulder. "Good. But get some sleep, Dante. We're leaving at 05:00 hours sharp, and you'll need your strength."
With that, Dante made his way toward the sleeping quarters, finding a quiet bunk to rest for the night. As he sat on the edge of the bed, he reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small portrait of his mother, Eva. The faded photo showed her in a simple dress, smiling softly—an image from a time before their lives were shattered. Dante was barely a few years older now than his mother had been when she died, and looking at the photo always stirred up memories he couldn't quite shake.
As he stared at the photo, lost in thought, Zinda quietly entered the room, not noticing the significance of the image he held.
She offered a reassuring smile, assuming the woman in the picture was someone special to him. "Don't worry, Dante," she said softly, "you'll make it back. The war will end, and you'll be home soon enough. I'm sure your gal's waiting for you."
Dante chuckled lightly, considering correcting her. But instead, he let it go. He wasn't one to share his past with just anyone, and Zinda meant well.
"Yeah," he muttered, his voice low as he tucked the photo back into his jacket. "Something like that."
As Dante lay back on the bed, closing his eyes, the weight of the upcoming mission settled in his mind. He wasn't just fighting a war—he was fighting to restore a world that had been turned upside down. But for now, he'd let sleep take over.
The dawn would come soon enough, and with it, the next battle.
The early morning air was thick with tension as the Blackhawks' plane sliced through the predawn sky. It was 05:30 hours on the day that would be known as D-Day, and the mission was in motion. The hum of the engines was steady, yet the atmosphere inside the plane was anything but.
Dante, sitting in the cargo hold, casually leaned back against a crate of supplies, his ever-present smirk in place despite the weight of what lay ahead. The mission was simple but dangerous: infiltrate a heavily fortified German camp, take out the defenses, and let the Blackhawks and the rest of the Allied troops move in for the rescue.
Up front in the cockpit, Zinda Blake, known to the world as Lady Blackhawk, piloted the plane with precision. She glanced back toward Dante as she adjusted a dial on the control panel.
"We're about ETA in one hour," Zinda called back, her voice calm but focused.
Dante, glancing up from where he sat, gave a quick nod. "Good to know. Gives me some time to mentally prepare." He cracked his knuckles, clearly more excited than nervous.
Zinda chuckled, but something about his accent caught her ear. "You're American, aren't you?"
Dante flashed a grin. "Yeah, born and raised. I'm from Redgrave, just outside New York."
Zinda nodded, adjusting the plane's trajectory slightly. "Redgrave, huh? Never been. I'm from Kansas. My mother was Polish, and my father was American. When the war broke out, I went to Europe, trying to join the Blackhawk group. Didn't have much luck until Poland got occupied by the Krauts. That's when I really stepped up my game."
Dante shook his head, impressed by her story. "Must've been tough, losing Poland like that."
Zinda's voice held a tinge of sadness, though she kept her tone steady. "Yeah, it was. But you do what you can when the world's falling apart."
There was a moment of silence before Dante turned his attention to Natalie Reed, who was sitting nearby, reviewing the floor plans of the German camp. He leaned over, curious. "And what about you? What's your story, Natalie?"
Natalie didn't look up from her plans, her voice steady and matter-of-fact. "I'm from Stalingrad."
Dante raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Stalingrad, huh? So, you're Russian?"
Natalie glanced up, her eyes hard but not unfriendly. "Russian-born, yes. But when Stalingrad was under siege, I was sent to the States. Became a citizen, and now I'm here."
Dante nodded thoughtfully, taking in her words. "Hell of a journey. Stalingrad... that must've been a nightmare."
Natalie's eyes darkened for a moment as she nodded. "It was. But the nightmare didn't end there. That's why I'm fighting now."
Dante leaned back, resting his arms behind his head. "I can get behind that. No use sitting around while the world burns."
Zinda, still piloting the plane, chimed in. "We've all lost something in this war. That's why we fight. That's why we don't stop until we win."
The plane hummed with a brief silence after Zinda's words, the reality of the mission settling over everyone. Dante, though always ready for a fight, couldn't help but feel a certain camaraderie with these women. They'd been through hell and back, much like him, and yet they kept moving forward, one mission at a time.
As they neared enemy territory, the distant coastline of German-occupied France began to appear in the dawn light. The German camp was just ahead, and the real battle was about to begin.
Dante, ever the confident devil hunter, grinned to himself as he prepared mentally for what was coming. Taking out anti-aircraft batteries and bulletproof watchtowers? Piece of cake.
But deep down, he knew that this mission, like every other, was more than just a fight. It was about something bigger—fighting for the future, for a world that had been twisted out of shape by war and chaos.
Zinda's voice came through the cockpit again, breaking the moment of silence. "We're almost there. Get ready, Dante."
Dante stood up, stretching out his arms and cracking his neck. "Ready as I'll ever be."
The plane pressed on through the early morning mist, and as the camp loomed closer, the anticipation in the air was almost tangible. The mission was clear: disable the defenses, rescue the Blackhawk comrades, and turn the tide of the war.
Dante grinned once more, ready for whatever came next.
XXXX
The Blackhawks' plane touched down on a dirt road a few miles away from the German prison camp, the roar of the engines fading into the early morning stillness. The area was quiet, but the tension in the air was palpable. Dante, Zinda, and Natalie disembarked, moving quickly to set up a temporary scouting position, hidden by the surrounding trees and low hills.
As soon as they were on the ground, Natalie pulled out her binoculars and crouched behind a small ridge, her sharp eyes scanning the camp's perimeter. The sky was still a dark shade of gray, the first hints of dawn creeping across the horizon. The camp itself was a cold, steel monstrosity, heavily fortified and bristling with defenses. Guard towers stood tall at each corner, and barbed wire fences surrounded the compound like the teeth of a predator.
The distant hum of anti-aircraft batteries was unmistakable, a clear threat to any aerial assault. Guards patrolled the perimeter, their movements precise and methodical. The watchtowers, as Natalie had mentioned earlier, were outfitted with bulletproof glass, making any attempt to take out the guards from a distance a fool's errand.
Natalie lowered her binoculars, her face grim as she turned to the others. "Heavy activity. Just like the intel said—anti-aircraft batteries around the perimeter, and guards everywhere. We're going to have to be careful."
Dante, leaning against a nearby tree with his usual nonchalance, gave her a nod. "Careful's my middle name," he said, flashing a grin. "So what's the plan? I go in, take out the defenses, and you two swoop in for the rescue?"
Zinda, who had been watching from behind, crossed her arms and glanced at the camp. "More or less. You take out the batteries and watchtowers, we slip in quietly, get our comrades out, and be gone before the Germans know what hit them."
Dante cracked his knuckles, clearly itching for action. "Sounds like a plan. I'll make sure the towers and batteries are out of commission."
Natalie looked at Dante, her expression serious. "It won't be easy. The guards are on high alert, and the second they think something's wrong, the entire camp goes into lockdown."
Dante smirked. "Good thing I specialize in keeping things quiet. Most of the time."
Zinda gave him a sidelong glance. "Let's try to keep it quiet this time, alright?"
Dante shrugged. "I'll do my best, but no promises."
Natalie handed Dante a pair of binoculars and pointed toward the far side of the camp. "Take a look. You'll see the main anti-aircraft batteries positioned there, and the towers we need taken out. If we take out those key defenses, the camp will be vulnerable."
Dante raised the binoculars to his eyes, scanning the camp with a practiced eye. He spotted the anti-aircraft batteries—hulking, metal monsters manned by Axis soldiers. The watchtowers stood at regular intervals, each one with a clear view of the surrounding area, making it difficult to approach without being seen.
"Got it," Dante said, lowering the binoculars. "Looks like fun."
Natalie, serious as always, nodded. "Once you take out the defenses, signal us. We'll move in as soon as the coast is clear."
Zinda took a deep breath, adjusting her flight jacket. "It's going to be tight, but we've pulled off worse."
Dante grinned, spinning his sword Rebellion before resting it on his shoulder. "You two just focus on getting those prisoners out. Leave the fireworks to me."
With the plan set, the trio prepared to move. Dante gave one last nod to Zinda and Natalie before making his way down the hill, disappearing into the shadows as he began his mission.
The real fight was about to begin, and Dante knew one thing for sure—this camp was about to get a wake-up call like no other.
XXXX
As Dante made his way down the hill, the faint light of dawn casting long shadows over the rugged terrain, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself. Subtlety was never his strong suit—he was more of a "kick the door down and see what happens" kind of guy. But today, he needed a different approach.
The mission required him to be quiet, strategic—at least at first. But Dante knew there was a sweet spot between total stealth and all-out chaos, a balance he liked to call controlled chaos. He'd still get to have his fun, but without blowing the entire operation before it started.
As he neared the edge of the German prison camp, he paused behind a large rock, taking in the scene. The camp stretched out in front of him, heavily fortified with guard towers, barbed wire fences, and the hulking anti-aircraft batteries Natalie had mentioned. Guards moved in well-rehearsed patterns, patrolling every few minutes.
"Alright, Dante," he muttered to himself, resting Rebellion on his shoulder. "Time to put on a show without blowing up the theater. Controlled chaos—just enough to keep things interesting."
He scanned the area again, thinking about how to make his move. There were plenty of ways to cause a distraction, but the key was to disable the anti-aircraft batteries and take down the watchtowers without setting off a full-scale alarm. Dante wasn't much for tiptoeing around, but he knew when to hold back… mostly.
"Let's see," he muttered, crouching lower and creeping toward the first watchtower. "How do I grab your attention without blowing this whole thing wide open?"
As Dante moved closer to the watchtower, an idea struck him. The guards in the tower were heavily protected by the bulletproof glass, but the surrounding environment was his playground.
"Guess it's time for a little creative destruction," Dante grinned, gripping Rebellion tighter.
He quickly scaled the side of a nearby building, keeping low as he moved across the rooftop. Below, a convoy of German soldiers was preparing for a patrol, loading up supplies near one of the anti-aircraft batteries. With a well-placed move, he could knock out the power to the battery and stir enough chaos to make sure the guards were distracted long enough for him to take out the towers.
"Time for the fireworks."
Without missing a beat, Dante leaped from the rooftop, landing silently behind a guard near the battery. He twirled Rebellion in his hand and, with a swift and precise strike, cut through the power cables feeding the battery. Sparks flew, and the machine let out a low whine as it powered down.
The nearby guards immediately looked over, confused by the sudden power failure. That's when Dante made his next move.
With a swift motion, he tossed a grenade—one he'd swiped from a guard earlier—into a stack of supplies near the convoy. The resulting explosion wasn't massive, but it was loud enough to draw the attention of the soldiers, who immediately rushed toward the blast zone.
"That should do it," Dante muttered as he moved back toward the watchtower, slipping through the chaos like a shadow.
With the guards distracted and the battery powered down, Dante climbed the watchtower, using the confusion below to his advantage. The bulletproof glass might have stopped bullets, but it wasn't going to stop Dante.
As he reached the top, Dante tapped the side of the glass with Rebellion, cracking it slightly. Then, with a grin, he kicked the glass in, sending shards flying. The guards inside barely had time to react before Dante disarmed them with a few swift strikes, knocking them out cold.
With the watchtower neutralized, Dante signaled to Zinda and Natalie using a small flare gun he found on one of the guards. A faint red trail shot into the sky, just as the last remnants of the morning darkness began to lift.
"That's one down," Dante said, grinning as he looked toward the next watchtower and battery. "Time to move on to the next."
As the camp descended into controlled chaos, Dante knew he was just getting started. He moved through the shadows, disabling batteries and taking down towers with surgical precision, all while keeping the guards guessing. The confusion he caused was enough to keep the Germans from raising the full alarm—but not enough to let them regroup.
He smirked as he headed toward the next target. "Subtlety might not be my strong suit, but controlled chaos? Now, that's my style."
The mission was in full swing, and Dante was right where he wanted to be—in the eye of the storm, creating just enough havoc to get the job done.
XXXX
As Dante moved toward his next target, the camp was already descending into chaos. He could hear the shouts of confused soldiers and the rumbling of machinery as the anti-aircraft batteries began to fail, one by one. The flare he had sent up was still lingering in the sky, a silent signal to Zinda and Natalie to begin their infiltration.
Far away from the explosions and chaos Dante was causing, Zinda Blake and Natalie Reed watched the flare burn brightly against the dark sky. It was their cue to move.
"That's Dante's signal," Zinda whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the camp's machinery.
Natalie, her eyes sharp and focused, gave a curt nod. "Let's go."
The two women crouched low and moved quickly through the dense underbrush, approaching the heavily fortified German prison camp. Despite the confusion Dante was sowing on the far side of the compound, this wasn't going to be easy. The camp was still bristling with guards, and the intricate layout made it a labyrinth of steel fences, patrols, and watchtowers.
They slipped past a pair of distracted guards, using the shadows to their advantage. The thick fog of early morning hung over the camp, muffling their movements and providing them with just enough cover to remain unseen.
As they reached the outer fence, Zinda pulled out a set of wire cutters, making quick work of the barbed wire barrier. Once inside, the real challenge began: navigating the camp's interior, which was a veritable maze of buildings, guard posts, and steel barricades.
Natalie, crouched behind a stack of crates, pulled out her binoculars and scanned the area ahead. "It's like a rat's nest in here," she muttered. "We're going to have to move fast if we want to reach the prisoners before the guards figure out what Dante's up to."
Zinda, ever confident, smiled grimly. "We'll get through it. Dante's keeping them busy. We just need to stick to the shadows and avoid getting caught in any of their patrols."
The two women moved deeper into the camp, using the guard towers and buildings as cover. Every corner they turned seemed to reveal another fork in the road, another set of high walls or watchful guards. The layout of the camp was designed to confuse any intruder, and Zinda knew they didn't have much time before the Germans realized something was wrong.
As they passed a checkpoint, Natalie's sharp eyes spotted a map hanging on the wall of one of the nearby buildings. "That's what we need," she whispered, pointing it out to Zinda. "That map should give us the layout of the camp."
Zinda nodded. "Let's grab it."
They waited until the patrols shifted, then slipped into the building through an open window. Inside, the room was dark and cramped, but the map was pinned to the wall, right next to a series of communication devices and radios. Zinda quickly unpinned the map and stuffed it into her jacket.
Just as they were about to leave, the crackle of a radio transmission came to life, the German guards speaking in tense tones. Though Zinda didn't speak German fluently, she recognized a few words.
"They're catching on," Zinda muttered. "They know something's up with the batteries."
Natalie glanced out the window, scanning the area for a clear path forward. "We need to move, fast. The prisoners are probably held in the barracks at the far end of the camp. But we've got patrols circling that area."
Zinda and Natalie slipped out of the building and continued through the maze-like camp, using the map they had taken to guide them. Every step was calculated, every movement made in silence as they avoided detection. The closer they got to the barracks, the tighter the patrols became, the guards moving in increasingly frantic patterns as Dante's chaos on the far side of the camp intensified.
"Almost there," Zinda whispered as they neared the prisoner holding area. But just as they approached the final checkpoint, the sound of marching footsteps echoed from around the corner.
Natalie grabbed Zinda's arm and pulled her into the shadow of a nearby building just as a squad of German soldierspassed by, their rifles at the ready. They held their breath, waiting for the soldiers to pass, before slipping out of the shadows and continuing toward the barracks.
The camp felt like it was closing in around them, the maze of steel walls and watchtowers making every turn a potential trap. But Zinda and Natalie pressed forward, determined to reach the prisoners before the Germans could regroup.
As they reached the barracks, Natalie glanced back at Zinda, her voice low but firm. "Now comes the hard part."
Zinda grinned, her hand resting on the grip of her pistol. "Hard part? I thought that was Dante's job."
With a nod, the two women prepared for the next stage of their mission—freeing their comrades from the heart of enemy territory. They could only hope that Dante's controlled chaos would buy them enough time to pull it off.
XXXX
Dante wiped the sweat from his brow, a satisfied grin plastered across his face as he destroyed the last of the anti-aircraft batteries. The watchtowers were down, the guards either neutralized or too disoriented by the chaos to put up much of a fight. The camp's defenses were crumbling, and Dante had played his part in ensuring the mission would succeed.
But now, with the biggest threats eliminated, his focus shifted. He needed to find Zinda and Natalie. The camp was a maze of steel, concrete, and barbed wire, and even Dante could tell it wasn't going to be easy to navigate. Still, he had a knack for getting where he needed to be.
He strode confidently into the deeper parts of the German camp, sticking close to the walls, careful to avoid being spotted by any roving patrols that hadn't yet been drawn away by the chaos he'd caused. His movements were fluid and quick, slipping from shadow to shadow, his ears trained for any sign of Zinda and Natalie.
The deeper he ventured into the camp, the more he realized just how labyrinthine it truly was. High fences and narrow passageways wound in every direction, making it easy for someone unfamiliar with the layout to get lost. But Dante had an advantage: the controlled chaos he'd set in motion meant fewer guards were on their usual routes.
As he pressed himself against a wall, he heard the faint, whispered voices of Zinda and Natalie just ahead. Peeking around the corner, he spotted them nearing the barracks, trying to remain unseen as they moved cautiously through the maze. They were close to their goal, but trouble was looming.
A lone German guard suddenly stepped out from a side path, his rifle already trained on them. He barked an order in sharp, angry German, clearly demanding their surrender.
Zinda and Natalie froze for a moment, exchanging tense whispers about how to take the guard down without alerting the rest of the camp. It was a delicate situation, and they couldn't afford to slip up now.
Dante, watching from the shadows, grinned to himself. This was his chance. While the guard was focused on the two women, he moved silently, slipping behind the man with the stealth of a predator stalking its prey. Without hesitation, Dante raised the hilt of Rebellion and brought it down on the back of the guard's head, knocking him out cold before he even knew what hit him.
The guard crumpled to the ground, unconscious but alive.
Zinda and Natalie whipped around in surprise, both looking relieved to see Dante standing over the fallen guard.
"Well, look who decided to join the party," Zinda said with a smirk, her eyes gleaming with amusement.
Dante gave them a cocky grin, resting Rebellion on his shoulder. "You didn't think I'd let you two have all the fun, did you?"
Natalie, ever practical, glanced at the guard before looking back at Dante. "Good timing. We were just about to handle him ourselves."
Dante winked. "No need to thank me—just doing my part."
Zinda gestured toward the barracks. "We need to get inside. The prisoners are being held there, but we don't have time to scale the walls or risk alerting more guards."
Dante nodded, already getting an idea. "Leave it to me."
With a swift motion, Dante swung Rebellion in a wide arc, the blade glowing with demonic energy as it cut effortlessly through the steel wall of the barracks. The metal screeched as it gave way, and in seconds, a large hole was carved into the side of the building, wide enough for Zinda and Natalie to enter without having to worry about scaling or breaking in through the door.
"After you, ladies," Dante said with a flourish, stepping back to let them pass through the newly-made entrance.
Zinda gave him an approving nod. "Not bad, Dante. We'll take it from here."
As they slipped inside the barracks, Dante followed close behind, knowing that this mission was far from over. The prisoners were close, but the camp wasn't done fighting back yet. They were going to need to move fast if they wanted to get everyone out before the Germans fully regrouped.
"Let's get these people out of here and blow this joint," Dante muttered, his grin still firmly in place. "I've got a feeling the real party's just getting started."
With the barracks breached and the prisoners within reach, the final stage of the mission was underway.
The trio made their way deeper into the barracks, navigating through the dimly lit corridors of the prison camp. The sound of distant shouts and clanking metal echoed faintly through the compound, but for now, they remained undetected. The tension was palpable as they descended into the heart of the prison, where the Blackhawk members and other prisoners were being held.
As they reached a large, fortified door, Zinda peered through a small hole in the metal, her sharp eyes scanning the cramped cell beyond. She caught sight of the Blackhawk members, bruised but alive, shackled to the walls in a makeshift cell.
"There they are," Zinda whispered, her voice a mix of relief and determination.
Dante, standing beside her, glanced at the heavy door. He knew what came next. "Alright, time to make an entrance."
With a confident smirk, Dante stepped up to the door, his boots thudding against the concrete floor. Without a second thought, he lifted his leg and delivered a powerful kick, sending the door flying off its hinges with ease. The loud crash echoed through the barracks, but in this controlled chaos, it barely registered amid the confusion.
Zinda and Natalie quickly moved inside, rushing to check on their Blackhawk teammates. The prisoners, though battered, were conscious and, more importantly, alive. Zinda helped free them from their restraints, while Natalie checked the others, making sure they were fit to move.
Dante, meanwhile, scanned the room. Among the various prisoners, his eyes landed on a man wearing a distinctive green uniform. The soldier was lean and muscled, with sharp eyes and an air of quiet determination despite his battered appearance.
Curious, Dante approached the soldier, his usual casual tone cutting through the moment. "What's your name, soldier?"
The man, though clearly exhausted, raised his head and met Dante's gaze. "Name's Jackie Johnson. Easy Company." He gave a brief nod, as if that was explanation enough. "I was supposed to rendezvous with my unit after a stealth mission in Berlin. Got snagged by the Krauts on the way back."
Dante raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Berlin, huh? Tough break. Guess you ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Jackie smirked despite the circumstances. "Story of my life."
Dante nodded, sizing up the soldier. There was something about Johnson—he had the look of a man who could handle himself in a fight. "Well, Jackie, looks like your luck just turned. We're busting you out of here."
Jackie's eyes flickered with a mix of relief and readiness. "Good to hear. Been waiting for an exit."
As Zinda and Natalie freed the other prisoners, Zinda turned to Dante. "We've got the Blackhawk members and the rest of the prisoners. They're shaken up, but they can move."
Dante glanced around, making sure everyone was ready. "Alright, we'll get them out of here, but we need to move fast. The longer we stick around, the more likely the Germans will regroup."
Natalie nodded. "Agreed. We've caused enough chaos, but it's only a matter of time before they figure out what's going on."
With their mission almost complete, Zinda rallied the prisoners, keeping them close as they prepared to make their escape. Dante, Jackie Johnson, and the rest of the team formed a protective perimeter, ready for anything that might come their way.
Dante, ever the optimist, cracked his knuckles. "Let's get these people out and back to the good guys. After that, maybe we can blow this place sky-high."
Zinda smirked. "You always want a big finish, don't you?"
Dante grinned. "What can I say? I like to leave an impression."
With their comrades and prisoners in tow, the team moved quickly and quietly toward the exit, the shadows of the prison camp stretching out before them as they made their way toward freedom.
XXXX
The group moved quickly through the camp, urgency driving every step. With the Blackhawk members and the rest of the prisoners freed, they had to make their escape before the German forces had time to regroup. The compound was still in chaos thanks to the disruptions Dante had caused earlier, but time was running out.
As they exited the main part of the prison, they rounded a corner and stumbled right into a group of German guards. The soldiers, stunned for only a second, immediately raised their rifles, barking orders in German.
But before Dante or anyone else could make a move, Jackie Johnson sprang into action. Despite his battered appearance, his fists flew with the precision and power of a professional fighter. In a matter of seconds, Jackie had delivered a series of devastating haymakers, knocking out the guards before they could fire a single shot.
"Nice moves," Dante commented with an impressed nod. "Boxing?"
Jackie grinned, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Heavyweight champion out of Harlem. Joe Louis is my idol."
Dante smirked. "The Brown Bomber, huh? Not a bad choice."
Feeling the adrenaline, Dante decided to show off a little of his own. As more guards rounded the corner, he launched into a fluid display of martial arts, dodging their attacks and dispatching them with a series of well-timed strikes and kicks. It was flashy, quick, and efficient—classic Dante.
Jackie, watching Dante move with surprising grace, nodded in approval. "Not bad. Where'd you learn that from?"
Dante wiped off his hands as he walked over, still smirking. "My pops. Taught me everything I know."
Zinda, already checking the area for more threats, gestured for the group to keep moving. "Save the compliments for later. We're not out of here yet."
With that, they continued their hurried escape, exiting the camp under the cover of the early morning fog. Once they were a safe distance away, the group gathered behind an outcrop of rocks to catch their breath and plan their next move.
Jackie, leaning against a boulder, took a moment to explain the mission he had been on before he was captured. "I was part of a stealth mission in Berlin. We were gathering intel on a major invasion Vandal Savage is planning. The invasion is supposed to start at 0900 hours today."
Natalie narrowed her eyes, her voice tense. "Where is the invasion supposed to take place?"
Jackie shook his head, frustration evident in his tone. "That's the problem—I don't know. I was supposed to find out, but I triggered an alarm by accident. It forced me to escape Berlin and regroup with my unit, but the Krauts intercepted me on the way."
Dante, checking his watch, frowned. "It's 0630 now. We've got less than three hours."
Jackie nodded grimly. "That's the good news. We've still got time to link up with Easy Company before the invasion. What I do know is that the invasion is launching from an airfield somewhere here in Caen. If we can find that airfield, we might be able to stop the invasion before it even gets off the ground."
Zinda exchanged a look with Natalie, her brow furrowed in thought. "If we can take out their air support, we'll cripple the invasion before it even begins. But we need to move fast."
Natalie nodded, already running through potential options. "Jackie, can you lead us to where Easy Company is?"
Jackie straightened up, determination in his eyes. "Absolutely. If we link up with them, we'll have the firepower we need to take down that airfield."
Dante, looking around the group, couldn't help but feel the familiar thrill of an impending fight. He cracked his neck and flexed his fingers. "Looks like we've got ourselves a little time to crash their party."
Zinda smirked, holstering her weapon. "Then let's not waste it."
With the plan in place, the group set off, moving quickly toward their next goal: finding Easy Company and stopping Vandal Savage's invasion before it could begin.
The clock was ticking, and the real battle was just around the corner.
XXXXSome time later, The group had fled the German prison camp, the cold morning air biting as they regrouped in the safety of the forest outskirts of Caen. The adrenaline from their escape still lingered, but the reality of the situation was setting in. Zindaturned to Dante and Jackie Johnson, her expression resolute.
"From here on out, it's just the two of you," Zinda informed them. "Most of the Blackhawks and the other prisoners aren't in great shape after their time in the camp. We need to get them back to our safehouse and give them shelter."
Jackie nodded in agreement, his eyes hardening as he recalled the suffering he'd witnessed and endured firsthand. "Yeah, I get it. They're in no condition to fight right now. They need some time to recover."
Natalie stepped forward and handed Dante a small radio. "Take this. When you and Jackie link up with Easy Companyand locate that runway, contact us immediately. We'll coordinate an airstrike to intercept the airborne invasion."
Dante took the radio with a smirk, sliding it into his coat pocket. "You got it. Just make sure you're ready for when things get loud."
Zinda offered Dante and Jackie a nod of encouragement. "We're counting on you two. This invasion can't be allowed to happen."
With that, Dante summoned his devil arm motorcycle, Cavalry, the demonic engine roaring to life with a low, growling hum. The sleek bike materialized next to him, its glowing tires radiating a faint energy that made it clear this wasn't an ordinary motorcycle.
Jackie raised an eyebrow as he eyed the motorcycle, clearly impressed but trying to keep his cool. "That's one hell of a bike."
Dante grinned, throwing a leg over Cavalry and settling into the seat. "Yeah, she's a beauty. Hop on—it'll be a lot faster than walking."
Jackie, without missing a beat, climbed onto the back of the bike. He adjusted himself, his body still aching from the time spent in the prison, but he wasn't about to let that slow him down. "You sure this thing can handle both of us?"
Dante revved the engine, the tires spitting out a burst of glowing embers. "Trust me. We'll be flying before you know it."
With a final nod to Zinda and Natalie, Dante twisted the throttle, and Cavalry surged forward, tearing through the forest with a speed that made the landscape blur around them. The trees became streaks of green and brown as they raced toward their next objective—finding Easy Companyand stopping Vandal Savage's invasion before it could begin.
As they sped along, Jackie leaned slightly to talk over the wind. "You always ride into battles like this?"
Dante, his eyes focused ahead, smirked. "More often than you'd think. Get ready, because things are about to get fun."
With the sun slowly rising on the horizon, the race against time had begun. Dante and Jackie were on a mission to link up with Easy Company and stop a plan that could change the course of history. But as always, Dante welcomed the challenge with his signature grin.
The road ahead was uncertain, but the destination was clear.
XXXX
The sun was beginning to rise, casting long shadows across the French countryside as Dante and Jackie Johnson sped down the dirt road on Cavalry, the demonic motorcycle humming beneath them. They had been traveling for a while, cutting through the fog and weaving through narrow paths in search of Easy Company.
Jackie, perched behind Dante, kept his sharp eyes on the horizon, scanning the area. It wasn't long before he spotted movement in the distance. A group of soldiers, hidden among the trees, doing some early morning scouting. He recognized them immediately.
"There they are," Jackie said, tapping Dante's shoulder and pointing ahead. "Easy Company."
Dante nodded, twisting the throttle slightly to veer right, heading toward the group. As they approached, they slowed down, and Easy Company—a hardened, battle-tested unit—immediately aimed their rifles at them, ready for anything.
One of the soldiers, a giant of a man known as Bulldozer, took one look at Dante's red coat and sleek motorcycle and scowled. "Who the hell is this guy? He looks like he's with the Krauts."
Dante snorted, clearly amused but unfazed by the accusation. Before he could respond with his usual sarcasm, Jackiestepped forward, raising a hand. "Stand down, Dozer. Dante's with me. He helped me break out of the German prison camp after they nabbed me on my way back from Berlin."
Sgt. Rock, the tough-as-nails leader of Easy Company, narrowed his eyes, scanning Jackie and Dante. After a moment, he barked an order. "Lower your weapons."
The soldiers obeyed, though a few still eyed Dante warily. Rock stepped forward, his rugged face stern but relieved to see Jackie. "How you holding up, Jackie?"
Jackie winced slightly, rubbing his side. "Bruised ribs, but I'll be fine. Nothing that'll slow me down."
Rock grunted, looking him over. "You had us worried. What the hell happened in Berlin? You were supposed to RV with us ASAP."
Jackie sighed, pulling out a rolled-up map from inside his uniform and handing it to Rock. "Hit a bit of a snag, Sarge. Ended up getting captured before I could make the rendezvous. But I did manage to grab this before things went sideways. It's a map of an airfield the Germans are using. Somewhere near here."
As Rock studied the map, Dante casually glanced around at the members of Easy Company. His eyes scanned the group, and he froze when he spotted a familiar face in the crowd. There, wearing a military uniform and looking a little worse for wear, was Green Lantern—John Stewart.
"Well, well," Dante said, walking over with his trademark grin. "If it isn't Green Lantern himself. You're a sight for sore eyes, buddy. Flash would've killed me if I hadn't found you."
Green Lantern looked up, meeting Dante's gaze, his own expression softening into a smile. "Dante. Took you long enough to find me."
Dante chuckled, glancing at John's uniform. "Nice threads. Any luck with your ring recharging on its own?"
Green Lantern shook his head, his face serious. "It doesn't work that way. The ring needs its personal battery to recharge, and I don't have mine right now. I've been stuck without it since I ended up here."
Dante scratched the back of his head, looking disappointed. "Damn. Guess we're gonna have to do this the old-fashioned way, then."
Before they could exchange more words, Sgt. Rock folded up the map and tucked it into his pocket. "Alright, listen up," he barked, his voice commanding. "We've got intel on the airfield Vandal Savage's forces are using to launch their invasion. We need to locate it and shut it down before they get those planes in the air."
Dante and Jackie exchanged a glance, both ready for the next step.
"Let's move," Rock ordered, his tone brooking no argument. "We've got less than three hours to stop this invasion."
As Easy Company rallied, Dante and Green Lantern stood side by side, ready for whatever came next.
Dante cracked his knuckles, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "Looks like we're about to kick off something big. You ready, Lantern?"
Green Lantern, despite his lack of a charged ring, nodded firmly. "Always."
With the mission clear and the clock ticking down, Dante, Green Lantern, Jackie, and Easy Company prepared to locate the airfield and stop Vandal Savage's plans before they could wreak havoc on the Allied forces. It was going to be a fight, but they were ready.
XXXX
Easy Company had been scouting the fields for what felt like hours, trying to pinpoint the location of the elusive airfieldthat Vandal Savage was planning to use for the invasion. The sun was climbing higher in the sky, and with less than two hours left before the invasion was set to begin, the tension was thick.
Sgt. Rock stood on a small hill, scanning the horizon with his binoculars. His brow furrowed in frustration as he handed them to Jackie Johnson. "We've cased the whole damn area. There's nothing here."
Jackie, though battered and tired, remained resolute. He adjusted the binoculars and swept his gaze over the terrain again. "I'm telling you, it's here somewhere. I studied every detail during my captivity. This is the spot."
Green Lantern, still without his ring's power, stood nearby with his arms crossed, eyes narrowing. "The problem is, this hill we're standing on—it's not even on the map Jackie gave us. It's like it doesn't exist."
Dante, who had been standing off to the side, deep in thought, suddenly knelt down. His eyes darted across the ground as he pressed his hand against the earth. His instincts were telling him something wasn't quite right. After a moment, he rapped his knuckles against the ground.
"Hold up," Dante muttered, knocking again. A dull, hollow thud echoed from beneath the ground.
Sgt. Rock raised an eyebrow. "What the hell is he doing now?"
Dante, without missing a beat, stood up and drew his fist back. "Trust me. This hill's a phony."
Before anyone could react, Dante smashed his fist into the ground, cracking the earth and sending a cascade of dirt and debris into the air. His blow tore open a large hole, revealing a hidden underground structure. Dante fell through with a loud crash, disappearing into the hole.
Sgt. Rock's eyes went wide. "What in the blazes—?"
From below, they heard Dante's voice, followed by a pained grunt. "Damnit... every time."
Green Lantern knelt by the hole, peering down. "Dante, you good down there?"
Dante stood up, brushing off the dirt. A sharp object had skewered his side during the fall, but he pulled it out with a wince. His nigh-invulnerability kicked in, the wound closing up almost immediately. He glanced up at the others, unfazed. "Yeah, yeah. It's just a scratch. The good news is, this hill's fake. Probably why it wasn't on the map."
Sgt. Rock nodded, still amazed by what had just happened. "Hell of a way to make a point."
Dante turned and pointed down the dimly lit underground corridor that stretched out ahead of him. "And there's your airfield. Hidden right under our noses."
The rest of Easy Company made their way down into the hidden base, carefully moving through the passage. The air was thick with the smell of machinery and oil, and the sound of distant engines roared from deeper within the complex.
As they neared the end of the corridor, the group stopped, taking cover behind a series of crates stacked near the entrance. From their vantage point, they could see soldiers milling about, lining up along the massive runway. Several War Wheels—the same kind Dante and Green Lantern had encountered a day ago—were being loaded onto large planes, clearly preparing for takeoff.
Dante, crouched behind the crates, scanned the scene with a mix of excitement and determination. "There's your invasion force. Looks like they're getting ready to roll out those death machines."
Sgt. Rock's face hardened as he surveyed the scene. "We've got to shut this down, and fast."
Dante reached into his coat and pulled out the radio that Natalie had given him. He quickly tuned it to the frequency and held it up. "Time to call in the cavalry."
He pressed the button and spoke into the radio, his voice low but urgent. "Zinda, Natalie, it's Dante. We found the airfield. Repeat, we found the airfield. They're loading up War Wheels and getting ready to launch the invasion."
A brief moment of static passed before Zinda's voice crackled over the radio. "Copy that, Dante. We'll coordinate an airstrike and hit them hard."
Dante smiled, glancing over at Green Lantern. "Hope you're ready for another round with those War Wheels."
Green Lantern gave a determined nod. "Always."
Easy Company were taking cover, continuing to watch as the German soldiers continued their preparations. The clock was ticking, but with the airstrike inbound, they had a fighting chance to stop Vandal Savage's invasion before it could begin.
XXXX
Behind the cover of the crates, Sgt. Rock quickly assessed the situation as the Axis forces were preparing to launch their invasion. Time was slipping away, and with less than an hour until the invasion was set to begin, calling for backup wasn't an option. Not this close to the deadline.
One of Rock's men, known for his wild streak, Wild Man, leaned in and whispered, "Maybe we could string some mines across the tarmac, blow 'em up when they start to take off?"
Green Lantern, crouched beside the group, shook his head, his sharp eyes focused on the scene unfolding in front of them. "Too late for that. Look."
Everyone followed his gaze, and their expressions darkened. A sleek black car rolled up on the tarmac, and the soldiers nearby snapped to attention. The car door opened, and out stepped Vandal Savage, dressed in a finely tailored military uniform, exuding power and control.
The soldiers saluted him sharply, one of them calling out, "Heil mein Führer!"
Vandal Savage, standing tall, surveyed the preparations with a cold, calculating gaze. "Is everything prepared?" he asked in a clipped tone.
A lieutenant stepped forward, standing stiffly. "Just as you ordered, mein Führer."
Savage nodded, his expression unreadable. "Excellent. I will personally lead the invading force. Ensure nothing delays our departure."
Without another word, Savage ascended the ramp leading to the largest of the planes, flanked by his lieutenant. The doors to the plane's cargo hold began to close as the engines roared to life, signaling that the invasion was imminent.
From their hiding spot, Green Lantern muttered, "It's the big man himself."
Sgt. Rock narrowed his eyes, his jaw set with determination. "Let's hit them, and hit them hard."
Without hesitation, Easy Company opened fire, their rifles cracking in unison. Dante, with his signature twin pistols, Ebony and Ivory, joined the fray, firing off precise shots as Axis soldiers scrambled to return fire.
The lieutenant turned to Vandal Savage, panic in his voice. "Commanders! We're under attack!"
Savage, unfazed, glanced at the chaos. "We must proceed with the launch. If we delay, we lose the war." He climbed aboard the plane as the soldiers continued their desperate attempt to hold off Easy Company's assault. The cargo doors of the plane sealed shut, and the engines revved louder as the plane began moving down the runway, picking up speed.
Dante's sharp eyes tracked the plane as it prepared to take off. His mind raced, and a crazy plan formed in an instant. "I'm going for the plane!" he shouted, holstering his pistols. "Cover me while I stop their boss from world domination."
Jackie Johnson stared at him, wide-eyed. "Are you crazy?"
Dante flashed his trademark grin. "A little. Hop on, G.L., we've got a plane to catch."
Without hesitation, Dante summoned his devil-arm motorcycle, Cavalry, its tires glowing with demonic energy. He hopped on, gesturing for Green Lantern to join him. Lantern, without his ring but with plenty of resolve, climbed on behind Dante.
"Hold on tight," Dante said with a smirk, revving the engine. "This is gonna get bumpy."
Sgt. Rock barked orders to his men, their focus split between taking out the Axis soldiers and providing cover fire for Dante and Green Lantern. As bullets whizzed past them, Bulldozer glanced at Rock and muttered, "Those two are out of their minds."
Sgt. Rock, still firing, didn't even glance back. "A little crazy's what we need in this war."
Jackie, watching as Dante and Green Lantern sped toward the plane, shook his head in awe. "Godspeed, Dante."
As Dante dodged enemy fire, weaving between debris and tarmac obstacles, he spotted a makeshift ramp—a pile of crates and rubble that could be just enough to give them the lift they needed. Dante gunned the engine, his grin widening as he shouted, "Hold on, G.L.! Here we go!"
With perfect timing, Cavalry launched off the ramp, sending Dante and Green Lantern flying through the air, the plane just below them. They landed with a hard thud on the cargo bay door, just as it began to lift off the runway.
Dante, barely fazed by the impact, jumped to his feet, ready for what came next. He glanced at Green Lantern with a cocky grin. "Told ya we'd catch it."
Green Lantern stood, shaking off the dust. "Now let's finish this."
With Dante and Green Lantern standing atop the plane as it gains altitude, this unconventional team up are ready to storm the cabin and stop Vandal Savage before the invasion can be launched.
XXXX
The plane had just lifted off, its engines roaring as it gained altitude. Dante and Green Lantern crouched on the top of the fuselage, the wind whipping against them as the plane soared into the sky. The duo slid down the side of the plane, using their agility to navigate the slick metal surface until they reached one of the windows.
Dante, ever the improviser, smashed the glass with a quick punch. "Hope Savage doesn't mind us coming in uninvited," he muttered as he climbed through, landing inside the plane's cargo area with a thud.
Green Lantern followed suit, sliding into the window and landing softly beside him. The two quickly assessed the dimly lit interior, which was packed with equipment, supplies, and several Axis soldiers stationed near the front of the plane, unaware of their intrusion.
Lantern scanned the area, his tactical mind already racing with options. "We've got two priorities: sabotage the engines and stop Savage before they reach their destination."
Dante smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Sabotage, huh? You know I'm all about causing a little chaos. You want me to stir things up?"
Green Lantern nodded, his expression serious. "You distract the soldiers and cause some trouble. I'll head for the engines and see if I can disable them."
Without another word, Lantern moved toward a nearby vent. He quickly removed the grate and began climbing into the narrow air duct, his lean frame making it easy to slip through. He paused, glancing back at Dante. "Remember, we need to keep this plane from ever reaching its target. Don't blow it up until we're sure Savage is down."
Dante gave a mock salute, grinning. "Don't worry. I'll keep it nice and chaotic, just the way I like it."
As Lantern disappeared into the vent, Dante straightened up and cracked his knuckles. "Alright, time to make some noise."
Moving with a casual but deliberate pace, Dante strode toward the group of Axis soldiers stationed at the far end of the cargo bay. They were busy preparing for the next phase of the invasion, unaware that a storm of trouble was about to come crashing down on them.
Dante pulled Ebony and Ivory from their holsters, twirling the twin pistols with practiced ease. "Hey, boys," he called out, drawing their attention. "How about a little in-flight entertainment?"
The soldiers barely had time to react before Dante opened fire, his shots ringing out in rapid succession. The bullets tore through their ranks, sending them scattering in a panic. The chaos was instantaneous—soldiers shouted orders, grabbing for their weapons, but Dante moved too quickly. He ducked behind crates, leaping over obstacles and firing from cover, making himself a hard target to pin down.
Dante's grin never left his face as he kept the soldiers off balance. He was the perfect distraction, and he loved every second of it. "Come on, fellas! You can do better than that!"
Meanwhile, Green Lantern crawled through the tight, narrow ventilation shaft, moving silently toward the plane's engine room. His thoughts were focused on the task at hand—sabotage the engines, cripple the plane, and prevent the airborne invasion from happening. He knew Dante could handle the soldiers, but they only had a small window of time before the plane reached its target.
As Lantern reached the end of the vent, he carefully removed the grate and peered down into the engine room. The sound of the engines humming filled the air, and he could see the intricate machinery that powered the plane. There were several technicians inside, monitoring the systems, but Lantern had a plan.
He slipped out of the vent, landing quietly behind the technicians. They were too focused on their tasks to notice him creeping up behind them. With a quick, precise movement, he knocked out one of the guards and moved toward the controls.
"I've got to disable this without causing an explosion," Lantern muttered to himself, his fingers working quickly over the control panel. He rerouted several systems, effectively disabling the engines without causing immediate damage. The plane shuddered slightly as its speed decreased, but it was subtle enough that most onboard wouldn't notice right away.
"That should slow them down," Lantern said, wiping his brow. "Now, to stop Savage."
Back in the cargo area, Dante was in the middle of the action, ducking, dodging, and taking out soldiers with reckless precision. As the last few enemies dropped to the floor, he holstered his guns and dusted himself off, taking a moment to admire his handiwork.
"Not bad," he muttered to himself, glancing around at the chaos he had created.
Just then, the plane shuddered again, the engines whining as Lantern's sabotage took effect. Dante smirked, knowing Green Lantern had done his part. Now it was time for the final showdown.
With the soldiers neutralized and the engines crippled, Dante moved toward the cockpit, ready to confront Vandal Savage and put an end to his plans of world domination once and for all.
XXXX
Dante stood outside the cockpit door, listening in on the conversation inside. The sounds of Savage's soldiers scrambling to report the engine malfunctions were clear.
"Engines failing, mein Führer!" one of the soldiers exclaimed.
Without missing a beat, Vandal Savage calmly replied, "Activate the secondary engines. Send a few men to repair the damage."
Hearing this, Dante swiftly contacted Zinda and Natalie on his radio. "I'm aboard Savage's plane. Airstrike's a go."
Zinda's voice crackled through. "Roger that, Dante. Good luck."
With that, Dante kicked open the cockpit door, his twin pistols, Ebony and Ivory, aimed squarely at Vandal Savage and the startled soldiers inside. The soldiers fumbled with their weapons, caught off guard by Dante's sudden entrance.
Vandal Savage, seated calmly in the pilot's chair and unfazed by Dante's intrusion, slowly turned around, revealing a gauntlet sparking with electrical energy on his arm. With a single motion, he raised the gauntlet and sent a powerful electric shock into Dante. The jolt knocked him off balance, sending him to his knees as he dropped his guns.
Dante, ever the defiant, weakly chuckled, looking up at Savage with his trademark grin. "That... tickled."
Savage stood, towering over Dante, his expression cold and calculated. "Is there anyone else on board?" he asked, his voice laced with menace.
Dante, still grinning despite the pain, remained silent.
Savage sighed. "Very well. It's a long flight to America even with these jets." Without hesitation, he delivered another shock to Dante with the gauntlet, the electric current coursing through him. "Now talk."
But Dante, ever the defiant, laughed weakly. "You'll have to do better than that, pal. I've had a lot worse."
Growing impatient, Savage shocked him again, but before he could deliver a fourth blow, the sound of distant explosions and the sudden jarring of the plane caught everyone's attention. The cockpit lights flickered as commotion broke out.
Outside, the airstrike had begun. Superman, Hawkgirl, J'onn J'onzz, and Allied planes were causing havoc in the skies, targeting Savage's forces and nearby escort planes. Explosions rocked the area, and the plane shook violently as it took hits from the aerial bombardment.
Inside the cockpit, Savage's soldiers scrambled to respond. "They're attacking! We've got enemy aircraft—!"
Savage, ignoring Dante for the moment, shouted orders. "Knock them out of the sky! Focus on the primary threats!"
Meanwhile, Dante had recovered. As the soldiers rushed to their stations, Dante quickly retrieved Ebony and Ivory,, and without missing a beat, began taking out nearby soldiers with the but of the guns, moving with speed and precision. One soldier, attempting to shoot Dante from behind, was knocked out by Green Lantern, who had just arrived through the vents in time.
"Good timing, Lantern," Dante quipped, grinning as he reloaded his guns.
Lantern nodded. "Better late than never."
With most of the soldiers down, Dante turned and aimed his pistols at Savage. "End of the line, Savy."
Savage, unimpressed, sneered. "You think you can kill me? You're welcome to try."
Dante's grin widened. "Nah, I've got something else in mind."
Without hesitation, Dante fired several rounds into the control panel, causing sparks to fly as the controls short-circuited. Holstering his guns, he lunged at Savage, engaging him in close-quarters combat. Savage, despite his gauntlet, was a skilled fighter, and the two clashed in a brutal exchange of fists and gauntlet strikes.
As the fight raged, Green Lantern focused on dealing with the remaining soldiers, making quick work of them with his military training. But the plane continued to shudder and lose altitude as the sabotage took its toll.
Outside, J'onn J'onzz, sensing the presence of Dante and Lantern aboard the plane, quickly relayed the information to Wonder Woman, Superman, and Hawkgirl. "They're inside the plane," J'onn said, his voice calm despite the chaos.
"Let's get them out," Wonder Woman replied as she flew in formation with Superman.
Back inside the cockpit, Dante and Savage continued to trade blows. Savage gritted his teeth as Dante's sarcastic quips kept coming, each one getting under his skin. "You talk too much," Savage growled, throwing a punch.
Dante blocked it, smirking. "I've heard that before."
Just then, Hawkgirl smashed through the cockpit window with her mace, sending glass flying. "Let's go!" she shouted at Dante and Lantern. "Get out of here before this thing goes down!"
Dante glanced at Savage, then at the open window. "Sorry, Savy. Gotta cut this short."
With a powerful backhand, Dante sent Savage flying into the corridor, crashing through the door. He and Lantern quickly made their escape through the broken window as the plane began its final descent toward the ocean below.
Hawkgirl grabbed Lantern's hand, pulling him out, while Dante triggered his Devil Trigger, his demonic wings sprouting from his back as he flew away from the crashing plane. The plane, now a burning wreck, plummeted into the water below, the explosion sending a plume of fire into the air.
Meanwhile, in the distance, Navy ships, having been alerted by The Flash about Savage's invasion, engaged the remaining planes, catching the Axis forces off guard. The combined effort of the Allied forces and the Justice Leagueoverwhelmed Savage's forces.
As Flash watched from the ground, seeing the remaining enemy planes fall, he sighed contentedly. "I love it when a plan comes together."
XXXX
The dim lights of the warehouse flickered as Batman, flanked by Lady and Trish, walked cautiously through the entrance. The atmosphere was tense, the air thick with anticipation as they made their way deeper inside.
Lady, ever the pragmatist, glanced around skeptically. "You sure this is the place, Batman?"
Batman's gaze was fixed ahead, his voice calm and precise. "According to my calculations, the time portal Dante went through should appear here in approximately three seconds."
Lady raised an eyebrow, about to question him further, but before she could speak, a crackling light filled the room. Just as Batman predicted, the time portal tore open in the middle of the warehouse. A bright, swirling vortex appeared, and out came the displaced Justice League membersand Dante.
The first to emerge was Superman, his cape fluttering behind him as he stepped through the portal. His eyes immediately locked onto Batman, and without hesitation, Superman crossed the distance between them, engulfing the Dark Knight in a firm hug. The gesture caught Batman off guard, his body tensing momentarily in surprise, but he didn't reject it. He stood still, allowing the brief moment of relief to wash over his friend.
Superman let go, a small, grateful smile on his face. "Good to see you, Bruce."
Batman, still recovering from the unexpected hug, gave a slight nod. "Likewise."
Lady crossed her arms, looking at Dante. "So, what the hell happened back there?"
Dante, visibly tired but still wearing his usual cocky grin, sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Let's just say... it's a long story. Time travel, Nazi invasions, some crazy fighting—you know, the usual."
Trish rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her grin. "Of course."
XXXX
Some time later at the Watchtower, Dante sat in the lounge, lazily eating a slice of pizza that had been warmed up for him. Across from him, The Flash was wolfing down his own slice, the two of them sharing the kind of relaxed banter that only comes after a long, hard mission.
"Dude, I can't believe you just left all that pizza behind," Flash said between bites, grinning as he pointed at Dante's slice. "That's practically a crime."
Dante smirked. "Hey, I had to save the world. Or, you know, stop a world-dominating lunatic. Pizza comes second to that."
Flash snorted. "Sure, but next time, you could at least take it with you. Portable pizza. You know I can run while eating."
Dante chuckled, shaking his head. "I'll keep that in mind."
As the two continued eating, the conversation shifted to the recent events. Dante leaned back, glancing at Flash with a curious expression. "Before you showed up to help out with me and the others in WWII, what was it like for you guys? In that... alternate timeline."
Flash swallowed his last bite, his face growing a bit more serious as he thought back. "It was... weird, man. Like something out of one of those old war movies but darker. Everything was twisted. GL, Wonder Woman, Hawkgirl, J'onn, Supes, and I—we were in a world where the Axis powers won World War II. The whole thing was controlled by Vandal Savage. Never thought I'd see a world like that."
Dante listened quietly, sensing the weight of Flash's words.
"But we fought back," Flash continued, leaning forward. "We helped the resistance, met some tough-as-nails folks, and did everything we could to make sure history got back on track. It wasn't easy, but in the end, we managed to set things right."
Flash suddenly perked up, as if remembering something important. He reached into his suit and pulled out two letters. "Oh, right! Almost forgot. I was supposed to give these to you."
Dante raised an eyebrow, taking the letters. They were worn but intact, and as he looked at them more closely, his heart skipped a beat. "This... this is my mom's handwriting."
The room grew still as Dante carefully opened the first letter, meant for him. His fingers traced the familiar script as he began to read:
"My dear son, if you're reading this, it means the future where you and Vergil live has been restored."
Dante's breath caught in his throat as he continued to read, his mother's words pulling him into a moment he hadn't expected to face. The letter went on, detailing her love for both him and Vergil, her hope for their future, and her relief that the timeline where her sons survived had been preserved.
"I know I wasn't there to see you grow, but I've always believed in the strength of the Sparda bloodline. You, Dante, are my legacy. Know that whatever you face, I will always be with you in spirit. Live your life with the same courage I saw in you when you were a child. I love you, my son."
Dante's usual bravado faded, replaced by a quiet, contemplative expression. He folded the letter carefully, slipping it back into the envelope. For a moment, there was silence between him and Flash.
Flash, ever the sensitive one despite his speedster nature, offered a small, supportive smile. "You okay, man?"
Dante nodded slowly, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah... yeah, I'm good." He paused, glancing at the second letter, knowing it was meant for Vergil. "I've got some family business to take care of."
Flash gave him a pat on the back, understanding without needing any further explanation. "Whenever you're ready."
Dante, still holding the letters, felt a warmth he hadn't in years—one connected to his mother, his family, and the world he'd fought so hard to protect.
XXXX
The ruins of Dante's childhood home were still, the once grand structure now reduced to broken walls and faded memories. Dust filled the air, illuminated by the dim light filtering through the shattered windows. Dante stood in the living room, staring at the family portrait hanging above the crumbling fireplace. It was one of the few things left unscathed by time—his mother, Eva, smiling warmly, with a much younger Dante and Vergil standing beside her.
Dante's eyes lingered on the portrait as he waited. He had made the call earlier, knowing this moment was inevitable, necessary even. He had something that Vergil needed to see, something that could perhaps bring both of them closer to a peace neither had ever truly known.
The faint sound of footsteps echoed behind him, and Dante didn't need to turn to know who had arrived.
Vergil stood at the entrance, his face as stoic as ever. Clad in his long coat, katana Yamato strapped to his side, he gazed at the ruined home with the same calm, detached expression he always wore. But there was something different in his eyes—a flicker of curiosity.
"You said you had something for me," Vergil said, his voice calm but with an edge of intrigue.
Dante, still staring at the family portrait, took a breath before turning to face his brother. "Yeah. Something I think you'll want to see." He reached into his coat and pulled out the letter that had been written for Vergil, handed to him by their alternate-timeline mother.
Vergil's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the letter in Dante's hand, his natural caution kicking in. "What is this?"
Dante didn't answer right away, instead walking over to his brother and offering him the letter. "It's from her. From... an alternate version of our mother. She wrote it for you."
Vergil's gaze lingered on Dante's face for a moment, as if trying to discern whether this was some kind of trick. But he knew Dante wasn't one for playing games when it came to their family. Slowly, Vergil reached out, taking the letter from his brother's hand.
The silence between them hung in the air as Vergil opened the letter and began to read. His eyes moved over the familiar handwriting, his expression unreadable as the words sank in.
The letter was addressed directly to him, from a version of Eva who had lived in an alternate timeline where she had known a different fate. Despite that, the sentiment was unmistakably hers.
"My dear Vergil," the letter began.
"I may not know the full story of the future you have come from, the struggles you have faced, or the choices you have made. But there is one thing I do know: I loved you and your brother equally and deeply. I would have given my life for both of you, in any world, in any time."
Vergil's hand trembled slightly as he continued reading. The letter wasn't just about the past. It also mentioned Nero, his son, whom Vergil had only recently come to terms with after years of being consumed by his obsession with power.
"I know that you, like your father, have always sought strength. But strength is more than power—it is love, it is family, it is knowing when to fight and when to let go. I hope, wherever you are, that you have found that balance. And I am so proud of you, Vergil, for the man I know you've become. And Nero—your son—he is part of you. I am certain that he carries the same strength you possess."
As Vergil reached the end of the letter, his normally emotionless face showed the faintest sign of something deeper—something long buried. He folded the letter slowly, the words still echoing in his mind.
Dante, watching his brother closely, spoke softly. "I know why you did what you did. Why you were obsessed with power. I get it now. We both struggled with what happened, with losing her." His voice was calm but tinged with understanding. "But after everything—Urizen, Nero—I think it's time we finally made peace with it."
Vergil stood still for a moment, processing everything. The letter had stirred something inside him, something he hadn't felt in a long time. He had spent years seeking power, trying to fill the void left by their mother's death, and now, standing in the ruins of their home, it felt like the final piece of the puzzle had clicked into place.
When Vergil finally spoke, his voice was quieter than usual. "She... loved us both."
Dante nodded. "Yeah. And I think, wherever she is, she'd want us to move forward. To stop running from what happened."
Vergil's gaze shifted from the letter to the family portrait above the fireplace. He had always been so focused on gaining strength that he had forgotten what really mattered. But this letter, from a version of their mother who still lived, reminded him of the one thing he had always pushed away: love.
"I've spent so long chasing power," Vergil said, almost to himself. "But power alone wasn't enough. It never would be."
Dante stepped closer to his brother, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We've both had our demons, Vergil. But maybe... it's time we let them go."
For the first time in a long time, Vergil didn't pull away. He didn't say anything more, but the look on his face said enough. There was no need for words between them anymore.
As the two brothers stood in the ruins of their past, with the ghosts of their family surrounding them, they found a moment of quiet understanding. Eva's letter had bridged a gap neither of them had been able to close on their own.
The letter was a reminder: their mother's love had never been lost. And now, neither was their family.
XXXX
The remote Blackhawk Island, once a bustling airstrip and home to the legendary Blackhawk squadron, had been turned into a memorial and museum honoring the brave men and women who fought during the war. The once-hidden base was now a place of reflection, filled with artifacts, stories, and statues commemorating the Blackhawks and their efforts during some of history's darkest days.
Dante walked slowly through the halls of the museum, his boots echoing softly against the stone floor. He wasn't usually one for sentimental journeys, but this was different. As he explored the various displays, showcasing the history of the Blackhawks and their pivotal role in the war, Dante couldn't help but feel a sense of quiet reverence. These weren't just old relics—these were pieces of the past, memories of those who had fought alongside him, and people who had given everything for the future.
He stopped in front of two statues, their stony faces looking as proud and strong as he remembered them. Zinda Blake and Natalie Reed—the First Lady Blackhawks. The statues captured their determination, frozen in time, as if ready to take flight at a moment's notice.
Dante smirked wryly and raised two fingers in a casual salute. "Rest in peace, Lady Blackhawks. It's been a bash."
He stood there for a moment, lost in thought, before the sound of wings softly descending behind him caught his attention. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
Wonder Woman, her golden armor gleaming under the soft lights of the museum, landed gracefully by his side. She looked at the statues, then turned her gaze to Dante, a gentle smile on her face. "Are you alright?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.
Dante, his hands resting on his hips, gave her a half-smile. "Yeah, I'm fine, princess. Nothing to worry about."
Diana, not easily convinced, folded her arms and studied him carefully. "You've been through a lot recently. It's alright to feel something."
Dante shrugged, his usual bravado still in place. "Nah. I've dealt with worse. Besides, it's not the first time I've been on the edge."
"From what I observed," Diana continued, "both of your parents, Sparda and Eva, gave their lives to ensure that you and Vergil would live. It was a paternal love—one that transcended time and space. They made their sacrifices knowing that, no matter what, you two would carry on their legacy."
Dante sighed softly, looking away for a moment before giving a nod. "Yeah... I guess that's true." He paused, the usual bravado in his voice softened by reflection. "They did what they had to, even in different timelines. Same story, different endings."
Diana placed a gentle hand on Dante's shoulder, her touch a silent reminder that even the strongest warriors weren't immune to the weight of loss and legacy. "Your father believed in both of you, Dante. That love... it lives on in everything you do."
Dante gave her a soft smile, grateful for her words. "Thanks, Princess. I appreciate that."
XXXX
Later in the day, Dante found himself walking through the quiet halls of a retirement home for war veterans. The sterile smell of the place, the gentle murmur of conversations between residents and nurses—it was a far cry from the chaos and explosions he was used to. But he wasn't here for battle. He was here for a visit he'd promised himself he'd make.
A nurse walked beside him, leading him through the halls. "He doesn't get many visitors," she said quietly, smiling as they approached a door. "I'm sure he'll be glad to see you."
Dante gave her a nod of thanks as the nurse opened the door, revealing a modest room with a bed, a small table, and a window that let in the afternoon light. Sitting in a chair near the window was Jackie Johnson, a bit older and more weathered than Dante last remembered, but still strong in presence. The years had caught up with Jackie, but there was no mistaking the fire in his eyes.
The nurse stepped aside. "Jackie, you've got a visitor. He goes by the name of Dante."
As she closed the door behind her, Dante grinned and walked in, hands in his pockets. "Hey, Jackie boy."
Jackie looked up, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Dante. Figured somehow you'd still be kicking around."
Dante chuckled. "What can I say? I'm too stubborn to die. Runs in the family."
Jackie nodded, leaning back in his chair with a contented sigh. "Ain't that the truth."
Dante pulled up a chair and sat down across from Jackie, resting his elbows on his knees. "So, what's been going on since Caen? How's life treating you?"
Jackie chuckled, his eyes glinting with nostalgia. "After Caen, I went back to the front lines. Fought a few more battles with Easy Company. Made it through somehow. After the war, I settled down, raised a family. Life's quieter now, but I wouldn't trade it for anything."
Dante smiled, genuinely happy for his old friend. "Good to hear. You deserve the peace after everything we went through."
Jackie looked out the window, his voice a bit softer. "You know, I never forgot that day. What we did... stopping Savage, the planes, all of it. It still feels like a dream sometimes. Like something out of one of those old war stories."
Dante leaned back, gazing out the window too. "Yeah, I get that. But it was real. Every punch, every bullet, every sacrifice—it all mattered."
The two sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of their shared history hanging in the air. Dante had always been the type to move on, to keep running from the past, but this—sitting with an old friend, reflecting on what they'd been through—it felt right.
Then as the conversation continued, it felt less like a reunion and more like two old friends picking up right where they left off. The battles were over, but the bond between them remained as strong as ever.
XXXX
The bustling streets of Metropolis were as lively as ever. Lois Lane walked briskly, her phone pressed to her ear as she spoke to Perry White.
"Look, Perry, I know you want something big for today, but there's nothing happening out here!" Lois sighed, dodging pedestrians as she made her way down the sidewalk. "It's just another slow news day."
In the distance, Jimmy Olsen jogged to catch up with her, his camera slung over his shoulder. "Lois! You need to see this!"
Lois waved him off, too engrossed in her phone conversation. "Jimmy, not now. I'm on the phone with Perry."
Jimmy persisted, his voice growing more urgent. "Lois, seriously, you need to see this!"
Lois groaned, ready to brush him off again, but something in Jimmy's tone made her pause. She glanced up—and froze in her tracks. In the middle of the street, Dante and Vergil, the Sparda brothers, were locked in a fierce but controlled sparring session. Their swords, Rebellion and Yamato, glinted in the sunlight as they clashed, the shockwaves rippling through the air.
Dante smirked, blocking a strike from Vergil. "You've gotten slower, Vergil. Is that age catching up with you?"
Vergil's eyes narrowed as he deflected Dante's next attack, his voice as cold and sharp as his blade. "Slower? You're the one who hasn't improved. Still relying on that sloppy form of yours."
Dante chuckled, leaping back and spinning Rebellion in his hand. "Oh, come on. You've been gone for how long, and this is the best you've got? I thought you'd be more fun after all that time in the Underworld."
Vergil's expression remained stoic, but there was a glint of something in his eyes—something close to amusement. "You've always been reckless, Dante. It's what got us into this mess in the first place."
Dante's grin softened for a moment, a flicker of old memories surfacing. "Yeah… but we're not kids anymore. Guess we've both learned a thing or two."
Vergil remained silent, his grip on Yamato tightening, but his gaze softened slightly, just enough for Dante to notice. There was a silent understanding between them—a brotherly bond fractured long ago, now slowly beginning to heal. For the first time in a long time, there was no malice between them, only respect and, dare it be said, affection.
The two brothers resumed their stances, measuring each other up before charging again. Their swords clashed, a battle of wills as much as a battle of skill, each testing the other in ways only brothers could. The sound of steel on steel filled the air, the energy between them palpable.
Suddenly, a low, guttural snarling broke the rhythm of their sparring. The Sparda brothers halted, both turning to see demons materializing from the shadows, their twisted forms crawling out of the cracks in the streets.
Dante's playful grin returned. "Well, looks like the party's just getting started."
Vergil sighed, his blade at the ready. "We can finish this later."
Just as they prepared to deal with the new threat, a familiar voice rang out. "Mind if we join?"
Trish, armed with her lightning-powered pistols, strode onto the scene, followed closely by Lady, her massive bazooka resting on her shoulder. But they weren't alone.
The Justice League swooped in, each hero ready for battle. Superman landed with a thunderous impact, his cape billowing as his eyes flared with heat vision. Wonder Woman descended gracefully beside him, her Lasso of Truthglowing. Hawkgirl flew in with her mace, ready for action, while Batman emerged from the shadows, batarangs at the ready. Green Lantern hovered above, his ring glowing with energy, and The Flash zipped around, surveying the field. J'onn J'onzz hovered nearby, his eyes glowing as he prepared for the fight ahead.
Dante grinned wide, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He could feel Vergil's irritation without even looking at him. "Don't you dare say it," Vergil muttered, already knowing what was coming.
Dante twirled Ebony and Ivory in his hands, that familiar cocky smirk on his face. "Jackpot."
With that, the battle erupted. Superman used his heat vision to incinerate demons from above while Wonder Woman skillfully lassoed one of the larger creatures, yanking it toward her before striking it down with her sword. Hawkgirl swooped in, her mace smashing through demon skulls with a single blow, while Green Lantern formed massive constructs, creating barriers to protect civilians and crushing demons with sheer willpower. The Flash darted around the battlefield, knocking out enemies with speed no one could track, while Batman strategically hurled batarangs, disabling demons in quick succession.
Dante and Vergil fought side by side, their sibling rivalry melting into seamless teamwork. The brothers slashed through hordes of demons, their movements synchronized, their blades moving in perfect harmony.
Trish and Lady, joining the fray, worked effortlessly alongside the Justice League. Trish's lightning strikes electrified the battlefield, stunning demons long enough for Lady to obliterate them with well-placed rockets.
As the battle raged, Jimmy Olsen, who had been standing in awe at the edge of the chaos, fumbled with his camera. He couldn't believe what he was seeing—this was no ordinary Metropolis brawl. It was something else entirely.
Finally, as the last demon fell and the dust began to settle, Jimmy snapped the perfect picture: Dante and Vergil, the Sparda brothers, standing together with Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, the Justice League, Trish, and Lady all around them, weapons still drawn, ready for more.
Dante, still grinning, holstered his guns. "Gotta say, not a bad way to spend an afternoon."
Vergil, rolling his eyes but clearly pleased, muttered, "You always attract the strangest crowds."
As the heroes regrouped, Lois, still on the phone with Perry White, stared at the scene, wide-eyed. She finally spoke into the phone, excitement bubbling in her voice. "Perry, stop the presses. I think I've just found the story of the year."
