Chapter 82: Oh no! What have i done...

Chapter 82: Oh no! What have i done...

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The Shapeshifter-controlled Batwing soared over Gotham at an incredible speed, slicing through the air with a thunderous roar. The super high velocity caused a ripple of exclamations across the city. Gotham's citizens were no strangers to Batman's car prowling the streets, but rarely—if ever—did they see Batwing tearing through the sky in broad daylight.

Many of the smarter criminals, who had learned the art of "off-peak crimes", purposely chose daytime to commit their misdeeds, banking on Batman's nocturnal habits. But the moment they looked up and saw the bat-shaped aircraft streaking through the sky, their confidence shattered instantly.

"Leave the money! Batman's here! RUN!" someone shouted in terror, scattering a group mid-heist.

"Who the hell said Batman doesn't work during the day?! Curse you!" another one yelled, abandoning his loot.

Meanwhile, Dean controlling the Batwing was oblivious to the mass panic his airborne display had caused. His mind was preoccupied with something far more troublesome.

Not all heroes outside the Justice League were fools. Sharp eyes were already tracking the impossibly fast aircraft speeding through the clouds. One of them, easily able to keep up, closed the distance swiftly.

"Hey! Batman?" A cheerful, confident voice rang out alongside the Batwing. "I'm Supergirl. My cousin asked me to subdue a monster ten days ago—said it was important for Kryptonians. I heard it's in your hands, so I came to find you."

Kara Zor-El, clad in her iconic red and blue suit, flew effortlessly at the Batwing's side. Even as the Shapeshifter-augmented Batwing pushed its limits at 2,300 kilometers per hour, it was still nothing in front of a Kryptonian like her.

Dean, sensing trouble, shifted the green ring to the left fuselage. Damn it… Kara's timing was too unlucky. He'd just barely convinced Superman to stand down, and now his cousin shows up. If Kara found out what he was doing, a fight was inevitable—and fighting a Kryptonian was absolutely not in Dean's plans.

And this wasn't the naïve Kara from the pre-Flashpoint days. In the New 52, she was a fully trained Kryptonian warrior. Not only had she slept under the yellow sun for decades, but her physical strength was formidable, her solar reserves possibly exceeding Clark's. She could use devastating Ultra Bombs without breaking a sweat.

Dean had no choice but to play along. He adopted a calm, electronically synthesized tone, mimicking the Batwing's onboard AI. "Batman is on a mission. I am the Batcomputer. Regarding your request—Superman has already filed the report. The construction of Gotham's new district is complete. Groudon has been relocated elsewhere. Unfortunately, conquest is impossible, he can't be claimed."

Kara frowned. "That's not what Kal said!"

She hadn't taken the mission seriously at first—after all, it had been ten days since Clark mentioned it. But Dean's cold, flat refusal sparked her rebellious side.

"Well, if you won't let me… I'll find it myself! Let me see where that thing is… Aha! Found it! What a handsome, big dinosaur

I like it!"

With that, Kara's bright eyes locked onto Groudon. Using her x-ray vision, she spotted the glowing red titan calmly shaping the earth far away. Excited, she ditched Dean and zoomed off toward Groudon like a rocket.

Meanwhile, Groudon, content with his quiet post-Atlantis War life—was napping by the sea, expanding the land whenever he felt like it. With Manaphy no longer pestering him, things were… peaceful, if a little dull. But the last thing he expected was another Kryptonian.

What no one knew was that Groudon had secretly protected Manaphy during their journey into the DC Universe. The act had weakened him, allowing Trigon to take advantage back then. But Manaphy had saved Groudon in return—earning his eternal respect.

And now, just as he was finally enjoying his retirement, a girl landed on his massive back.

"Hey, big dinosaur, let's be friends!" Kara smiled, patting Groudon.

From the distance, Dean let out a long breath. "Finally… I'm safe. Sorry, Groudon, but I had to throw a Kryptonian your way. Better you than me…"

With Kara gone, Dean started descending. His ten-minute transformation timer was up.

Landing the Batwing, the green light shimmered, and Dean returned to his human form. The Omnitrix's screen flashed yellow—charging mode.

Dean quickly looked for cover. He needed time—time to recharge the Omnitrix before the inevitable all-hero chase came crashing down on him.

But just as he took a step, a cold, pained voice rang out behind him.

"There's no sign of erosion in your soul… but why, why would you do something like this?"

Startled, Dean spun around. Raven stood there, her hands clasped tightly. Her violet eyes were filled with pain and confusion.

If Dean's soul wasn't corrupted by Trigon, yet he still attacked Superman, it meant only one thing—Dean had chosen this path. And that… was not something magic could fix.

Dean sighed with relief when he recognized her. "Raven. Where's… the others?"

Raven shook her head. "I teleported here alone… I traced my father's aura. Nightwing and the others… I left them behind."

Dean's eyes narrowed. So… the entire Titans are in motion now…

"Good thing I made preparations in advance," Dean muttered under his breath.

Seeing Dean's reaction, Raven felt deeply confused. Dean didn't look like someone on the run or a desperate fugitive being hunted down by the League. Instead, he had the calmness and confidence of Nightwing watching his carefully laid plan unfold step by step, progressing exactly as intended.

Raven's breathing gradually calmed as she thought about this. Her deep purple eyes, hidden beneath her hood, locked onto Dean with sharp focus.

"It seems… you're hiding something from us, Dean… Nothing happened to Superman, right?"

Hearing this, Dean patted his face lightly with both hands and forced a smile. "Ah, I forgot… The moment I relaxed, I slipped out of character. I really can't be seen by anyone else right now. But don't worry, Raven, I'm fine. Your father… Trigon… is sealed well inside the Omnitrix."

Indeed, even when the Omnitrix was damaged, it was still capable of trapping a fragment of Trigon's soul. And now, after being completely repaired by the Horse Talisman, the electronic space created within the Omnitrix had become even more stable and secure. Trigon could no longer break free or even verbally harass Dean. In fact, the situation had reversed—Dean now teased Trigon regularly, often provoking him with taunts and leaving halfway through just to watch him rage.

Sensing the firm seal, Raven felt a noticeable weight lift from her heart. With a wave of her hand and a softly chanted spell, she opened a small rift leading to hell, planning to retreat and return to the safety of her room.

However, just as she turned, Dean called out to stop her.

"Raven, wait… Don't be in such a hurry. While the Omnitrix still has more than six minutes left to charge… I have something I want to ask you—about dimension demons."

Unlike Raven, who was born with a demonic heritage, other heroes would need time to locate Dean. But Dean had no intention of wasting this window. He planned to use every second to strengthen himself.

Raven glanced back, hesitant, but ultimately did not reject him. Silent and composed, she floated over to Dean's side and followed him as he led her into one of Batman's secret safe houses.

"Batman has a lot of these safe houses scattered around Gotham," Dean explained, walking quickly through the shadows of the alley. "It's for emergencies… a place to grab equipment anytime. Once you understand how these places are designed, it's not hard to find them. I found several while patrolling Gotham before."

Dean walked straight to a seemingly unremarkable wall, removed the light switch cover, and revealed a hidden fingerprint lock. Calmly, he reached into the system warehouse and pulled out a transparent glove embedded with a complete fingerprint sample—Nightwing's.

"This… I collected when I helped Barbara clean her wheelchair."

Because while Batman was making plans to deal with Dean, Dean had been preparing countermeasures against Batman too.

Once inside, the safe house door slid shut, completely cutting off Superman's line of sight. Superman—hovering high above—could only raise his head to the sky and sigh helplessly.

"Well… might as well treat this like a test for the new recruits. When Dean gets overwhelmed, I'll show up dramatically and save the day… Give everyone some credit points."

Inside, the safe house was sparse—just a single bed—and shelves stacked with weapons: batarangs, bat grapples, bat tear gas grenades… Dean didn't hesitate, pocketing everything useful.

Finally, they sat down, facing each other.

Dean spoke earnestly, "Raven… I know that dimension demons have terrifying potential. They can grow as powerful as Trigon himself. But honestly, I know nothing about magic. The Omnitrix… it's just technology. It can copy a body, but it can't inherit knowledge."

He took a deep breath. "So… I want to learn from you."

It was true—dimension demons weren't just physically strong. They wielded hellfire that could burn even the undead. Dean had been sitting on this treasure trove, never knowing how to unlock its potential. But now, Raven might just be the key.

Of everyone on Earth, no one knew Trigon better than Raven. Time and time again, she had confronted her father, balancing the line between familial love and endless enmity. Her mastery of dark magic was unquestionable. She was, without a doubt, the best teacher Dean could ever find.

Raven, too, did not want Dean to walk down the same dark path her father had taken. So she regarded Dean's request seriously—this wasn't a joke.

"The magic I practice… it's dark magic, Dean," Raven warned softly. "It's not light magic."

In the DC Universe, magic had a price. Every spellcaster understood that all power came with a cost. Magic sources weren't truly ownerless; somewhere, someone allowed mortals to borrow power—for a price. Using dark magic, in particular, would inevitably affect the user's psyche. It was what ordinary people called 'black magic.' No one could escape its toll.

"The devil's power comes from hell. Both my father and I are the same," Raven continued, raising her hand. She tore open a rift into hell itself. From within the flaming abyss, several dark tentacles slithered out and gently supported Raven as she floated in mid-air.

Dean grimaced, the overwhelming stench of sulfur filling the room. "So… if I want to use this power, I have to… what? Absorb it from hell itself?"

Raven nodded slowly. "Yes. That's the rule. Magic power doesn't appear out of thin air. All magic drawn from hell is backed by hell itself. You need to claim a part of it… a piece of hell… before you can use that power."

Dean's brow furrowed. That… was troublesome. He didn't have the time or the strength to launch a conquest of hell itself. As far as he knew, one day on Earth was but a minute in hell. If he went down there and came back, the Justice League would've already destroyed him three times over.

Raven saw through his hesitation. Her voice softened. "Of course… most demons can't claim territory in hell either. That's why the… vassal system… was born. By pledging loyalty to a stronger demon, the weak can use hell's power. They form a contract… pay a price… and in return, they borrow strength."

Dean thought of John Constantine. That bastard had been tricked when he first learned magic. Later, though, Constantine turned the tables—he realized the value of his soul. Signing dozens of contracts with different demon lords, he kept them in check, playing them against each other to delay the day he'd have to pay the price.

But Dean wasn't Constantine. He didn't know any big players in hell. The only one—Trigon—was his enemy. If they met, it would be swords drawn. Constantine's "loan shark" tricks wouldn't work here.

"But… can hell really hold so many powerful demons?" Dean asked. "Especially someone like Trigon? Would he really share power with anyone else?"

Raven's eyes darkened, her voice almost a whisper. She wanted to tell Dean that she… she had her own little territory in hell. If Dean became her vassal, he could access her power freely. But she didn't dare say it aloud… Instead, she forced herself to keep explaining.

"My father… he didn't get his power by conquering hell. That would've put him in direct conflict with the Lords of Hell. No… he used another way. He created his own dimension… his own hell."

And that… that was why Trigon was a dimension demon, not a mere hellspawn. He carved out his own realm—a world where he alone ruled.

Dean's eyes lit up. "Then… that means… I don't have to conquer hell at all, do I? As long as… I create my own exclusive territory…"

And when it came to that—Dean grinned. He already had a territory.

Raven was genuinely surprised that Dean had thought this far ahead: "It is… understandable. But it's really difficult, and it also means… you have to become a conqueror."

"No, no, no—Raven, that's where you're restricted by your own upbringing." Dean shook his head with a grin. "Development has never been achieved solely through plunder. There's another path—a more sustainable one. Farming!"

Dean's eyes brightened as he leaned in. "Raven, teach me… how to make the world itself supply me with magic."

Raven blinked, caught off guard by the unusual choice of words, but she quickly understood. "It's simple… just imprint your mark upon it," she said softly. "Come to think of it, you already have a demiplane that belongs to you, don't you? That's exactly what the gods do… They nurture a demiplane, cultivating it until it becomes their source of power."

For the first time, Raven felt relieved about Dean's demonic potential. If Dean was already thinking this way—walking the path of gods rather than devils—then there was almost no chance he would fall into darkness. Maybe… just maybe… she wouldn't have to seal another Trigon in the future.

Dean smiled faintly. "It's a feasible method, sure… but it still takes time. Is there no shortcut? No… quick method?"

At that moment, Dean felt like Sun Wukong standing before the gate of Heaven, eager to learn everything but with no time to spare. Thankfully, Raven wasn't like Patriarch Bodhi or the Riddler. She didn't spout cryptic nonsense. She simply told Dean the truth.

"You said… after transforming, you could turn anger into hellfire. That means you already possess a power similar to mine, you're capable of channeling emotions into strength." Raven's voice softened. "You've learned to tap into anger… now, try exploring other emotions… or even find new ways to use anger."

But even as she explained, Raven felt conflicted. She didn't really want Dean to know this method. Because while power gained from emotions was undeniably strong, it also came with the same instability as emotions themselves. It could easily spiral out of control, or worse… turn him black.

Yet Dean's eyes gleamed with excitement. The Omnitrix's charging cycle was nearly complete, and he couldn't wait. The moment it flashed green, Dean activated it—transforming right in front of Raven.

In a brilliant burst of green light, Dean's body twisted and grew into the form of a Dimension Demon. His towering figure reached nearly three meters. To avoid smashing his head into the ceiling and to give Raven room, Dean curled up, hugging his own knees like a giant kid squatting awkwardly in the corner of the safe house.

Seeing such a fearsome demon huddled like that, Raven couldn't help but chuckle unconsciously—but she quickly caught herself. No… Ravens must never allow their emotions to fluctuate too wildly.

Dean, peeking up, grinned wide. "Look at me… fire!"

With that, a small green flame burst from his palm. He wasn't showing off raw power. No, he deliberately controlled the output, holding the flame steady—tame, harmless.

Raven froze. For a brief moment, she couldn't speak. "You… how did you… control it this well? With such fine precision?"

Raven herself could do this—but only after years of daily meditation, constant self-discipline, and tireless practice. Every day, she had to sit quietly, suppressing the endless darkness within her. Only then could she achieve this level of delicate control. And Dean? He had been a dimension demon for… what, a few days? Not even two and a half days if you counted the ten-minute transformations.

Dean scratched his head, looking even more confused than Raven. "Isn't it… natural? This is my own emotion, Raven."

But the moment he finished that sentence, realization dawned on him. Raven wasn't like him. She was born a "second-generation demon," her power inherited from Trigon—tainted, evil from the start. She'd been suppressing the darkness in her heart every second of her life, just like Superman suppressing his strength. Of course… dancing in shackles wasn't as easy as being free like Dean.

Feeling a rare surge of gratitude toward Raven, Dean lowered his voice. "Raven… you suppress your heart too much. Honestly, your talent… your potential is far greater than any pure-blooded dimension demon. But… you've spent your whole life refusing to accept your dark side. And that's… wrong."

Raven blinked. "What… what did I… do wrong?" She lifted her face, eyes wide—like a little girl, quietly asking her father for guidance.

Dean smiled softly, the way a good father would. "You can't think like that. Restraining your emotions is the right thing—after all, you don't want to hurt your friends. But… you shouldn't be so harsh on yourself. You shouldn't lock yourself away."

He truly believed it. If Raven received proper guidance, she wouldn't need to suppress her power at all. She could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Doctor Fate. In fact, if she overcame the weakness of "easily turning dark," Raven could become the strongest hero of the new generation.

"You need to let yourself breathe a little. Relax… hang out with your friends… bask in the sun. Or find a place where no one's around and vent however you like. But it needs to be gradual. Baby steps. You can start… by taking off that hood. Stop hiding in the shadows all the time."

Raven didn't reply. But somewhere—deep in the spiritual dimension she had created—a red crystal suddenly cracked open. Wisps of black energy drifted out. In the past, at the first sign of such a crack, Raven would've rushed to repair it. But this time… she didn't.

The black energy didn't explode violently. Instead, it simply… flowed, quiet and serene.

Raven stood there, in front of the crystal, feeling the black air curl around her like a warm blanket. But… there was no suffocating pain. No drowning fear. Instead… she felt relief. A release she didn't know she craved.

Back in the real world, emboldened by Dean's words, Raven hesitated… then slowly reached up… and took off her hood.

For the first time, Dean saw the real face of Raven—delicate features, six golden eyes shimmering faintly, and sharp red horns curving from her forehead…

"…"

Dean's face twitched. Slowly… he reached up… and tried to pull the hood back down. But… the horns got stuck.

Raven tilted her head innocently. "What's wrong? Didn't you tell me… to do this?"

Then, Raven smiled slightly and added in a voice soft as silk, "Father."

The moment that word left her lips… Dean shivered. Cold sweat broke down his back.

No. This… wasn't right. After all this… wasn't Raven supposed to become White Raven? Why… why did she turn full demon instead?

He must've triggered the wrong flag!

"Haha… Raven… you're… really good at pranks…" Dean forced out a laugh, then quickly got serious. "Alright, enough. Change back. If your friends see you like this… they'll be scared."

Raven blinked all six eyes and looked a little disappointed. "Why? I was thinking… it'd be fun to go to the amusement park like this. Every time they go out, I'm always the one sitting alone… reading my magic books. Now that I think about it… I really shouldn't. I want to share what I like… with them."

Dean weakly raised his hand. "What… exactly do you like, Raven?"

The surrounding walls suddenly shimmered, red magic patterns crawling across every inch—forming a massive, intricate magic circle. From the depths of hell, beings peeked through, their gazes heavy and unbearable.

Raven smiled sweetly. "Of course… tentacles. They're so much cuter than cats or dogs… and they're way more… versatile."

"Ha…ha… you're right," Dean stiffly nodded.

The good news was… Raven's mind truly seemed to have opened. She was trying—really trying—to accept that hidden part of herself.

The bad news? This journey… was going to be filled with blood, violence… and lots of tentacles.

What have I done…

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