The ancient ruins of the Amazon loomed around them, half-consumed by the relentless grasp of nature. Thick vines coiled around shattered stone pillars, and eerie green mist slithered across the damp ground, carrying whispers of long-forgotten spells. The air was thick with the residual energy of battle, the clash of magic and steel leaving behind scorch marks, shattered earth, and the decaying bodies of beasts summoned from the abyss.
Crucifier stood at the heart of the destruction, his blood-red eyes surveying the battlefield. His once-proud warriors, the Great Ten, barely clung to life. The eldritch magic of the Enchantress had torn through their immortal bodies like rot through wood, erasing flesh, twisting bone, and seeping into their very souls.
They had won, but at a steep cost.
With a sharp motion, Crucifier raised his hand and sliced his palm open with a clawed nail. Blood—deep, dark, and shimmering with power—spilled forth. The moment it touched the air, it pulsed like a living thing, radiating an unnatural glow.
"Drink." His voice was not a request.
Kong Kenan, once the Superman of China, trembled as he barely managed to lift his gaze. Half his body had been erased by Enchantress's curse, his usually formidable form reduced to a tattered husk of what it once was. He could feel the abyss creeping closer, gnawing at what remained.
"My lord…" he rasped, his voice weak but still carrying the resolve of a hero. "You can't… It will weaken you."
Before his rebirth as a vampire, Kenan had been a symbol of hope—a manufactured Superman, a man sculpted into a hero through genetic experimentation. He had started as a bully but had grown into something more. Even now, as a creature of darkness, he still clung to the ideals of heroism.
But those ideals made him hesitate.
He wasn't alone. The other members of the Great Ten, barely standing, shared his hesitation. Crucifier could see it in their eyes—the quiet, desperate wish that perhaps it was better to die here, to let their suffering end before they became monsters that would bring suffering to others.
Crucifier sighed, kneeling beside them as he let the glowing blood drip into their open mouths. He did not resent their reluctance. If anything, he admired it.
"They will learn," he thought to himself as he watched them drink. "Given time, those feelings will belong to us."
A slow, taunting chuckle slithered through the mist.
"I didn't think you cared," Enchantress mused, her voice dripping with amusement. "Aren't you a failure as a being of darkness?"
Crucifier turned to her, his expression unchanging. She was beautiful in a dangerous, untamed way—long, raven-black hair flowing over her emerald robes, dark eyes gleaming with madness, lips curved in an amused smirk. She was a creature of chaos, of raw magic and unchecked destruction.
And now, she was his ally.
"I am what I choose to be," he replied, his ruby eyes glowing in the dim light.
At his side, one of his warriors—his most devoted—spoke in his defense.
"My lord does not believe that darkness means we must destroy each other and thrive on betrayal," the warrior said, voice carrying a strength that belied his weakened state. "It only means we exist in the dark as they exist in the light. We have lost too much ground because of that misunderstanding. If we stood together, the light would be forced to recognize us as more than monsters. They would have to compromise instead of branding us as unnatural."
His words carried the weight of belief—of conviction.
For the first time in the entire battle, Crucifier's expression cracked. Passion burned through his normally composed exterior as he clenched his hand into a fist.
"We are painted as villains," he muttered, voice thick with emotion. "Because we let them. Because we refuse to see what could be if we simply stood together."
Enchantress arched a brow, tilting her head as she studied him. This man—this vampire—had been calm throughout the entire battle, never revealing his emotions. Yet here he was now, impassioned, raw, utterly human in his drive.
If he weren't what he was, she might have mistaken him for a hero.
"Not a bad answer," she admitted, crossing her arms. "But changing people on this side is harder than the light. We don't live by ideals. We live by power. And right now? You're nothing more than a tiny little bug."
Crucifier did not flinch. He did not waver.
"I hold no such grand schemes in my mind," he said simply. "I am satisfied with this humble dream of mine."
Behind him, the Great Ten began to rise, their bodies rejuvenated, their connection to their master stronger than ever. The crimson glow of his blood pulsed in their veins, fighting against the eldritch corruption that had nearly consumed them. They had survived. And now, they were stronger.
It had cost him 20% of his power.
But it was worth it.
Crucifier turned to face Enchantress fully, his expression unreadable once more. "Will you stand with me?"
She smiled—a slow, dangerous thing that promised nothing and everything at once.
"With you? No," she said, stepping closer. "But beside you? For now, yes."
That was good enough.
The heroes would come. Eventually, they would realize what had transpired deep within the Amazon.
But by the time they arrived, it would be too late.
The cold, sterile glow of the Batcomputer illuminated Batman's weary face as he analyzed the updated security feeds. His cape hung heavily over his shoulders, his mind operating on little rest. Hours had passed—countless hours of debating, convincing, and fighting with government officials who refused to grasp the gravity of the situation.
But finally, they listened.
The vampire infestation was spreading too fast. Too wildly. They couldn't rely on standard procedures anymore. The government agreed to his plan—surveillance was upgraded to the highest level of technology available, and the supercomputer behind the system had been optimized to track irregular movements across the country.
New training programs were in place. The police and the military were being restructured, retrained, and armed with the latest anti-vampire weapons. The world was preparing for war—one they barely understood.
But none of it mattered to Bruce right now.
Because he had just lost two of his closest allies at the worst possible time.
Bruce's fingers tightened into fists as his body trembled from the shock. He felt an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel—helplessness.
Tim.
Dinah.
He had sent Tim away, told him to be careful, and now… gone.
Black Canary was one of the best. She wasn't someone who got caught easily. Which meant—this wasn't just a normal enemy.
He gritted his teeth. His heart screamed at him to go—to drop everything and hunt them down.
But he couldn't.
He had a responsibility bigger than his personal pain. He had to hold the line.
Biting his tongue, Bruce forced himself to stay and continue his work. Shazam had taken charge of the search. He had to trust his people. He had to.
Naruto's return had eased some of the pressure.
With Raven's magic covering key cities, the situation was slightly more manageable. But Bruce knew—it wasn't enough. The spells couldn't cover the whole planet. Other forces in the dark would see it as a challenge, as a power move, and react. The League couldn't afford another enemy right now.
And then… there was Naruto himself.
The memory data they extracted from him had little value—which only reinforced Bruce's biggest concern.
Naruto had made a stupid mistake.
He had let his emotions control him, pushing forward without fully grasping the consequences. He acted like he was the only one who had seen death. As if they all hadn't suffered.
Bruce had seen thousands die.
Superman had lost entire worlds.
Diana had fought in wars before she even knew him.
And yet, none of them let their emotions drive them into recklessness anymore.
Naruto had to learn from this—because they couldn't afford any more mistakes.
CRACK!
The cup shattered in Jaime's hand as he stood up, fists trembling.
"What are we gonna do about Robin?" he snapped, his voice raw with emotion. "I really can't take this shit anymore! Why the hell is this bastard vampire acting like a fucking rat?!"
His frustration burned in his words, and no one blamed him. The entire team was on edge.
Everything felt wrong.
Their leader—incapacitated.
Their friend—gone.
The enemy—unknown, unpredictable, and always one step ahead.
No one had an answer.
Across the room, Impulse stood frozen.
He wasn't speaking. He wasn't moving.
Jaime turned to him—and his heart sank at what he saw.
Impulse's body was shaking. His face was pale, eyes wide with unspoken horror.
Jaime knew that look.
It was the look of someone drowning in guilt.
"…Bart?"
Impulse didn't respond. His hands twitched.
'I killed him. I killed Tim.'
The words echoed in his mind, over and over, growing heavier each time.
The future was supposed to be terrible—but at least Tim was alive. Now…? Now he was gone.
And it was his fault.
Jaime grabbed his shoulders, shaking him out of his trance.
"Impulse, snap out of it!"
Nothing.
Then he saw it.
The tears.
Bart never cried. Never. But now… his eyes were wet, filled with so much pain that it physically hurt to look at.
Jaime felt something twist in his chest.
Without thinking, he pulled Bart into a tight hug.
"Bro, calm down." Jaime's voice was softer now, steady despite the storm raging in his heart. "We can't give up. We have to find a way. We're the Golden Dawn, man. We gotta keep looking forward."
Bart barely reacted at first. But Jaime held on, whispering reassurance while the scarab inside his armor sent soothing frequencies to calm his friend.
Bart needed to believe there was still a chance.
And if Jaime had to lie to himself just to keep them together, then so be it.
Kara hovered above the city, watching from a distance as Jaime comforted Bart. She wanted to help, she really did—but words were never her strong suit.
This was something Naruto would have been good at.
But Kara? She wasn't like him. She couldn't reach people the way he could.
So she did what she did best—action.
Back at her personal sanctuary, Kara activated the system and started crafting nano-cameras. Using her available resources, she programmed them to fly in a coordinated pattern across Africa, scanning for any sign of the vampire infestation.
Flying around had been useless—Naruto's failure had proven that. If the vampire wanted to remain hidden, it would.
But machines didn't need rest.
The nano-cameras zipped through the air, moving at insane speeds while relaying everything back to her screens.
For hours, Kara watched. Analyzed.
But she didn't find vampires.
Instead, she found something… strange.
The forests were expanding.
Kara's eyebrows furrowed. That wasn't normal—not at this speed.
She pushed the cameras higher, expanding the search range. The pattern was everywhere.
Forests weren't supposed to grow like this. Not without intervention.
"…What the hell is happening?" she muttered under her breath.
She tried tracing the source, looking for an origin point, but found nothing.
The change was too widespread—too unnatural.
This wasn't some random event.
Something—or someone—was causing this.
And she needed answers.
Kara flew toward Jump City, where she knew she'd find him.
Not the real Naruto—his clone.
She spotted him on a rooftop, laughing and talking with Mary Marvel.
He looked… happy.
Despite the pressure. Despite everything, he was smiling.
Kara's lips twitched slightly.
'That's so like him,' she thought with a small smirk. 'Charming some girl wherever he goes with that smile of his and that pure-hearted personality.'
For a brief moment, she hesitated.
Should she bother him? He already had so much on his shoulders.
But she needed answers.
She took a deep breath.
"Naruto, I need your help."
She spoke at a different frequency, ensuring only he could hear.
Naruto turned toward her, raising an eyebrow.
"Kara, you need to go back to the original. I can't help you. I have no powers at all."
Kara's eyes widened.
"…What?"
"I met Death," he admitted with a sheepish smile. "And she decided I'd learn better by actually losing my powers rather than just pretending I didn't have them."
Kara was stunned.
'Death? Like… actual Death?'
That wasn't something you just casually mentioned.
But she didn't push for details.
Instead, she redirected the conversation.
"Did something happen to the real one?" he asked.
"Nah, he's just sleeping after training too much," she lied smoothly.
She couldn't let the clone worry. The real Naruto was already carrying enough.
"I'll be going now, so take care and good night."
Without waiting for a reply, Kara flew away, disappearing into the night.