Chapter 50

"…Is what you said true?" Superman finally asked, his voice tense.

Without a word, Ashborn reached into his shadow and pulled out a sleek black card. A license to kill—valid anywhere on Earth. And yes, he had it made last night, personally signed by every world leader.

Seeing the card, Superman fell silent.

He had always stopped others—and himself—from killing for one simple reason… it wasn't his call to make.

Superman didn't interfere when governments sentenced criminals to death. He didn't challenge the system. His role was to enforce the law, even when he knew deep down that the people making those laws weren't always right.

After a long pause, he spoke, his voice softer. "Everyone is capable of changing… you know that?"

Ashborn met his gaze and gave a small nod.

"Indeed…" Ashborn said. "But twist metal too much, and it's bound to break."

He met Superman's gaze. "Sometimes, what we see is the best we're ever going to get. Sure, there are villains, here on Earth and out there, who might change for the better one day. But many? They never will."

His eyes flicked toward Batman.

"Take the Joker, for example. In my opinion, the only thing Joker truly fears… is Batman disappearing. Meaning, the only thing keeping him the way he is—is Batman himself."

Ashborn crossed his arms. "So, if you really want to save him… then Batman needs to disappear. Let an Ironbat or something take his place."

Batman's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"

"Die before Joker," Ashborn said coldly. "And the next time he's about to blow something up—don't show up. In fact, no one should. You're the reason that guy exists."

His glare bore down on Batman.

"Every life the Joker takes from this point on? I'm putting them on your head." His voice didn't rise, but the weight behind his words pressed down on the room.

"You could have stopped that mad clown a long time ago. Even crippling him would have made him harmless. But for some reason, you're harsher on struggling minions—people forced into crime just to survive—than you are on him."

Silence, no one said a word for they had never thought they would see the day where Batman would be put in such a position. 

"I'll be watching you," Ashborn continued. "Three more strikes and you can forget about suiting up again."

He took a step closer, his gaze unyielding.

"The fact that you cripple people forced into crime while letting the Joker run free makes me wonder about you. So here's some advice—get therapy. Before I force you to."

He tilted his head slightly. "And you should know about my bag by now. I could pull out something that would make you spill your entire heart to a therapist. So do it on your own free will… or I will make sure you get the help you need."

Then, his eyes shifted to the rest of them.

"Hal," Ashborn said, turning to the Green Lantern. "I'll deal with the blue aliens later. For now, I want to get everyone ready to be equipped with a Lantern Ring—one that suits their abilities."

Then, his eyes flicked back to Batman.

"And one more thing—conquer that fear." His voice was firm but not unkind. "Fear itself isn't evil. It all depends on who is using it."

With that, he turned to leave. "Well, I'm out. Got a list to make." He took a step but then paused, glancing back at Batman.

"My money… and the keys to my new home?" Batman silently handed him a card and a key, the latter attached to a small piece of paper with his new address written on it. Ashborn took them, gave a nod, and walked away.

Ashborn said nothing else. His shadow twisted, forming a dark portal before him, and he stepped through.

A moment later, he emerged before a secluded mansion, far from civilization. A long, winding road stretched through dense forest, climbing up a hill to reach the grand three-story estate.

"Why is Gotham always so damn dark…" Ember muttered as she flew out of Ashborn's shadow, eyeing the mansion.

Ashborn barely glanced at her before handing her a card. "Here. Go buy whatever you need. I need to check what my shadows dumped into my inventory."

Ember took the card, staring at it with a strange look. What exactly would she, the Phoenix Force, possibly need to buy?

Ember simply slipped the card away, saying nothing as Ashborn stepped forward and pushed open the door.

As soon as he did, shadow soldiers rose silently from his own shadow, spreading out and vanishing into the dark corners of the mansion, and the nearby land, blending seamlessly with the surrounding shadows.

Stepping inside, Ashborn took in his new home. Dust coated nearly every surface, spiderwebs stretched across the high ceilings, and the air carried the scent of time long forgotten.

Old furniture, belonging to whoever had once lived here, filled the space, each piece covered with white cloths, adding to the abandoned atmosphere.

"I want to throw everything out and start from scratch," Ember said. Ashborn nodded in agreement—until he realized Ember's definition of throwing everything out was very different from his own.

She held out her palm, and the furniture began to warp and reshape itself.

Ashborn sighed. "That's not throwing things out—that's recycling."

Ember simply shrugged, clearly unbothered.

By the time she was finished, the entire interior of the mansion had transformed. The walls and furniture radiated a deep, burning red, glowing like embers whenever the sunlight hit them.

Ember turned to Ashborn expectantly. "What do you think?"

Ashborn, looking vaguely sick, stared at the overwhelming sea of red.

"This place looks disgusting." With those blunt words, Ashborn activated [Shadow Monarch Force], and in an instant, the mansion's interior shifted—transforming into something far grander.

Something that looked almost like a… castle.

"From the outside, this place already had a castle vibe," Ashborn said, stepping back to admire his work. "So, I figured if people step inside, they should be greeted with something worthy of a royal castle."

Ember glanced around, taking in the transformation.

The ground was now covered with a luxurious red-and-gold carpet, intricate phoenix patterns woven throughout.

Above them, ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a warm golden glow that made the entire space feel rich and refined.

Exotic plants lined the halls, releasing a unique fragrance that filled the air, subtly relaxing the body and lifting the spirit.

It was… amazing. She opened her mouth to say as much—then stopped herself as Ashborn spoke first.

"I'm thinking of calling this place Grand Castle," Ashborn said with a smile. "Grand because, well, it looks grand. And castle because… it's a castle. What do you think?"

Ember stared at him with a blank expression.

"You don't like it?" Ashborn frowned. "Maybe it needs more edge. How about Shadow Monarch Castle? No, wait—Shadow Life Giver Manor? Or maybe just Ashborn Home?"

He kept rattling off more names, each one more ridiculous than the last.

Ember's eye twitched. "Just stop it," she said, cutting him off before he could go any further.

"Abyss Manor? No… this place doesn't really have a dark theme." Ember said her eyes scanning the place while thinking of a good name.

"Something like Fireheart Manor or Phoenix Manor would fit better—given all the phoenix symbols you put here."

Ashborn frowned, glancing at the intricate phoenix patterns woven into the décor. After a moment, he gave a reluctant nod. "…Yeah, that makes sense."

"Phoenix Manor it is, then."

With that settled, he began walking around the place, casually pulling various items out of his shadow, and placing them where they belonged.