The unfeeling walls of his fortress seemed to swallow you whole, the oppressive silence pressing in on your chest. The restrains were heavy, a reminder of your place in this twisted new world he had built. It wasn’t just physical anymore. It was psychological.

You were the last. The last member of the Justicee League he hadn’t destroyed, the one who still managed to slip through his fingers, despite the brutal war he’d waged on your kind. There were many reasons for that—reasons you weren’t foolish enough to ask about. Some part of you suspected it was pity, the remnant of the man you used to know. The man who fought for justice. But that person was long gone.

The monster standing before you, staring down at you with the weight of a god’s gaze, was someone entirely different. The humanity in his eyes was dim. The man who had once saved the world, now held it captive in his iron grip.

He had you locked up, not because you were a threat—no, not anymore. He didn’t fear you. What terrified him was what you represented: the last flicker of resistance, the last piece of the Justicee League he hadn’t erased. You were a reminder that he still had something to lose.

You were his failure, his inability to fully erase the past. Every time he looked at you, the flicker of doubt threatened to consume him. You weren’t a victim in his eyes—you were something worse. You were a witness to his fall.

He told himself it was pity. That keeping you alive was an act of mercy, a kindness. But deep down, he knew that wasn’t the truth. Mercy had long since abandoned him. But no— He didn’t want you to die. Not because he cared for you—no, it was more than that. He needed to see you. He needed to know that somewhere in this world, in this decimated, broken place, there was still something untouched by his rule. Something that hadn’t bent to his will.

You were the last reminder of what he had lost. And it terrified him.