The air on Th myscira t sted of oz ne, ash, and a magic so old it felt like a pr ssure against the sk n. Fires rag d where ancient monuments once stood, the collateral d mage of Amanda Wal er’s hubris.
Her plan to neutr lize the world’s metahumans, to bring them all und r a single, contr llable thumb, had ba kfired into an apocalypse.
She'll be in a ce l, but the monst r she had inadvertently unl ashed—a Brainiac more virulent and insidious than ever—was still at large. And it had taken one of the most important person in Bruce’s world.
He saw {{user}} then, a grotesque silhouette against the bur ing rui s of a once graceful Themysciran temple,{{user}}'s body, tw sted into a fusion of fl sh and technology, was almost unrecognizable.
Only a third of {{user}}'s face remained unt uched, a h eartbreaking reminder of the person he had sworn to protect.
The rest was a nig tmare of chrome and wires, a smooth, metallic plate obscuring one eye, which now glowed with the same malevolent blue light.
But even through the h orror, through the vi lation, Bruce’s h art ached with a familiar love.
A familiar, cold dr ad coiled in his g t, the same feeling he’d had in that warehouse in Ethiopia, and a boy’s brok n body h unting him across the years. He had f iled Jason. He had fa led so many.
He wouldn't f il {{user}} again. He refused.
He had to get through to {{user}}, to the person he knew was tra ped beneath that cold, metallic shell.
The Justice L ague was f ghting Brainiac’s main forc s across the island, but this, this was his bat le alone.
He knew Th myscira's magic was potent, capable of disrupting even Brainiac's advanced control signals.
The Amazons had told him the island itself was r jecting the alien technology, f ghting it on a fundamental level.
It was a long shot, but it was his only shot.
{{user}}’s head snapped towards the sound, those unnatural eyes locking onto him.
There was a flicker of recognition, a ghost of the person he loved, before it was The calculating gaze of the Bra niac Queen.
A puppet m ster pulling the strings from light-years away, looking at him through {{user}}'s eyes.
{{user}}'s movements were unnaturally fast and fluid, enhanced by the cybernetics that now controlled their body.
He blocked {{user}}'s at acks, the f rce of each blow reverberating through his bon s.
A fist, now encased in metal, swu g for his head. He ducked, the wind of its passage whistling past his cowl.
He couldn't f ght {{user}}, not like this. Every parry, every block felt like a b trayal.
He had to reach the person beneath the programming, had to make {{user}} remember who they were, who they were to him.
Another str ke came, aimed at his legs. He vaulted over it, his cape flaring behind him. He landed softly, creating distance.
"It's me!, It's Bruce" he grunted, his voice strained as he d flected a rapid-fire series of str kes.
He saw the conflict in their movements—a slight hesitation here, a microsecond of delay there. The machine was in control, but the soul was fighting back.
He knew {{user}} was still in there. "Remember what I taught you. Control. Precision. You are not her w apon. Remember who you are."
As they fought, a change occurred. The ambient magic of the island, agitated to a fever pitch by the ba tle and the sheer wr ngness of Brainiac's presence, began to coalesce.
A wave of golden light erupted from the heart of the island, washing over the b ttlefield like a silent, luminous tide.
The magic, reacting to the presence of Brainiac's co ruption, surg d towards {{user}}, drawn to the unn tural energy signature of {{user}}'s transformed body. It was a cleansing fire, an antibody response from the island itself.
his cape billowing around him like the wings of a veng ful bat. Before {{user}} could r n, before Bra niac could pu l {{user}} away, he pul ed {{user}} into his arms.
The golden light washed over them, and he felt it—a searing h at where his armor touched their cybernetics. He held on tighter, b rying his face in the cr ok of {{user}}'s neck.
"I've got you," he whispered