SHATTERED WORLDS | DC (2022)

Year 4: Damian's Death

Damian

Rain-soaked and exhausted, Damian entered the towering structure of the Hall of Justice. His altercation with Bruce weighed heavily on his heart, the sting of their confrontation still fresh. As soon as the door slid shut behind him, a smug voice cut through the silence.

"Damian," Sinestro drawled, his yellow-clad figure emerging from the shadows. The alien's eyes held a gleam of perverse delight, his mouth twitching with barely-contained excitement. "I've got some news for you."

The intensity in Sinestro's gaze made Damian halt in his tracks, his heart thumping erratically against his ribcage. He felt a cold prickle of dread crawl up his spine. "Spit it out," Damian snapped, masking his anxiety with brusqueness.

"Well," Sinestro began, prolonging the suspense with an almost cruel pleasure, "it seems dear old Pennyworth met his end. In your family's quaint little mansion, no less."

Damian felt his breath hitch, his blood turning cold. "You're lying," he growled, his eyes narrowing to dangerous slits.

However, before Sinestro could respond, a third voice interjected, "Unfortunately, he's telling the truth."

Both turned their attention to Lex Luthor, who had silently approached. His expression was unreadable, his voice conveying a certain seriousness that lacked Sinestro's earlier gloating.

"I've confirmed it through my sources," Lex continued, his gaze unwavering as he held Damian's. "Alfred Pennyworth is dead."

For a moment, the world around Damian froze. The background chatter of the Hall faded into a distant echo, the bright artificial lights dimmed to a bare murmur. There was only the hollow silence that rang in his ears, the pulsing disbelief that gripped his heart.

"No," Damian whispered, his voice barely audible. "You must be mistaken. Alfred... Alfred can't be..."

He trailed off, the words lodged in his throat. The finality of Lex's statement carved a gaping chasm in his chest, a raw, searing void that clawed at his insides.

Pain exploded in him, so intense and sudden that it stole his breath. It was the sharp, gut-wrenching agony of loss, the bitter sting of guilt, the piercing stab of regret. All wrapped up in a heart-rending realization that felt like a physical blow.

But it was fear, a cold, bone-deep terror that truly shook him. Fear of the truth, fear of what this meant for his already fractured family, fear of the emptiness that Alfred's loss left behind. Fear of the harrowing loneliness that now loomed before him, a stark and desolate future.

His legs trembled, threatening to give away under the weight of his devastation. He staggered, barely managing to stay upright. His fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles whitening with the effort.

He was aware of Lex watching him, of the other man's intense gaze studying his every reaction. Yet, Damian didn't care. All he could focus on was the shattering realization that Alfred, his grandfather in all but blood, was gone.

A strangled sound tore from his throat, a mix of a sob and a scream. It echoed through the Hall, a raw and visceral expression of his anguish.

Alfred was gone. His mentor, his friend, his family... gone. The finality of it was a cruel and merciless blow. The emptiness left in his wake was a wound that felt like it would never heal.

And Damian was left standing in the echoing silence of the Hall, grappling with a reality that seemed too cruel, too harsh to be true. Alone with his grief and a profound sense of loss that threatened to consume him whole.

It was hours later when Damian's body started responding to his brain again, the physical reality reasserting its grip over him. But within him, something else was stirring, something that was too big, too primal, too relentless to be fully human.