February 2027

Westchester County, New York

The Batcave

Hours bled into each other, the passage of time marked only by the steady hum of the Batcave's machinery and the quiet, rhythmic tapping of the keyboard. Y/N sat hunched over the Batcomputer, his eyes fixed on the screen, his face illuminated by the cold, sterile glow of the monitor.

His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed with frustration, his gloved fingers rigid over the keyboard. Again. He ran the calculations again.

The screen flickered as the system processed his latest attempt. A moment of anticipation hung heavy in the air. His fingers curled into tight fists as he waited, barely breathing

Then...

FAILURE.

The word flashed in bold, red text across the monitor, taunting him

Y/N let out a sharp exhale through his nose, gripping the edges of the console so hard his knuckles turned white beneath his gloves. His shoulders tensed, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears.

Another failure. Another dead end.

He had gone through every conceivable sequence, every possible enzyme, every mutation that could counteract the vampiric infection in Kate's blood, and every single one had failed

He wasn't just trying to cure her... He was trying to cure all of them.

And right now, he had nothing.

A muscle twitched in his jaw as he reached for a small vial of Kate's blood, holding it up to the dim light of the cave. The liquid inside was dark. Thicker than it should have been. Under a microscope, it was even worse. Twisting, alive, changing.

It was the curse of vampirism, woven into every cell, clawing through her like a parasite.

He set the vial down, swallowing the frustration threatening to consume him. His eyes flicked toward the reinforced glass cell, where she still sat... or what was left of her.

She wasn't speaking now. Not like before.

At least, not in a way he could understand

Kate was curled in the corner of the cell, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her breathing shallow. She looked cold, despite the fact that vampires couldn't feel the temperature. Occasionally, her lips would part as she muttered something... whispers too quiet for him to catch.

Sometimes it was her voice.

Sometimes it was Elisabeta's.

It was breaking him.

Y/N turned back to the console, rolling his shoulders to force the tension out of them. He had to keep trying.

For Kate.

For everyone.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, inputting another enzyme sequence, another desperate attempt

The screen processed the data, scanning the genetic structure of the infected blood, running calculations faster than the human brain ever could. Y/N's pulse quickened as he watched the progress bar inch forward, analyzing... searching... matching...

Then...

FAILURE.

The red text burned into his retinas.

He clenched his jaw so tightly it ached.

Still wrong. Still useless. Still... not enough.

The Batman's voice inside his head growled at him, dark and unrelenting

Batman: You're wasting time. She's slipping further away. If you can't save her... who the hell can?

Y/N exhaled sharply, pressing his fingers to his temples. His eyes felt heavy, the exhaustion pressing into him like a weight, but he couldn't stop. Wouldn't stop.

He reached for another vial, loaded it into the scanning dock, and ran another simulation.

The system whirred.

Processing....

Calculating...

Failing...

Again...

Again...

Again...

The frustration clawed at his chest, but Y/N didn't break. He didn't scream, didn't punch the console like he wanted to.

Because there wasn't time for anger.

There was only time to keep trying.

And that's exactly what he would do

Y/N sat motionless for a long moment, his fingers still hovering over the keyboard, his mind spinning. There had to be a way.

And then... it hit him.

Blade...

The Daywalker.

A dhampir.

The perfect fusion of vampire and human. He had all of their strengths, the speed, the power, the heightened senses... but none of their weaknesses. No aversion to the sun, no weakness to silver or Holy Water. He was the only being alive who had successfully resisted the curse, bending it to his will rather than succumbing to it

Y/N's eyes flicked toward Blade, who was leaning against the Batcave's stone walls, arms crossed, watching everything in cold silence.

His blood.

Blade's blood was the key.

Y/N turned back to the console and stood swiftly, his mind already racing ahead of his body

Y/N: I need a sample of your blood

Blade lifted an eyebrow, shifting slightly but not moving from his spot.

Blade: You think my blood's gonna fix this?

Y/N's expression was hard, his voice even harder

Y/N: It's the best shot I've got

Blade exhaled sharply, pushing off the wall. He didn't trust people easily. Hell, he barely trusted anyone. But seeing Y/N, this Batman, work the way he did... he respected it.

Without another word, Blade pulled out a silver-coated dagger, rolled up his sleeve, and cut deep into his forearm.

A single drop of his blood hit the metal tray beneath him. It was darker than human blood... thicker, richer, stronger.

The Batcomputer ran the scan within seconds, analyzing the properties of the dhampir's unique genetic structure.

Y/N wasted no time, extracting the sample and carefully injecting it into a separate vial containing Kate's infected blood.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then...

BOOM

The vial exploded.

A sharp, high-pitched shatter rang through the cave as glass ripped through the air. Y/N barely had time to shield his face as the sample dish was obliterated in an instant.

Smoke curled from the remains of the vial, the entire containment unit sparking from the sheer instability of the reaction.

Y/N exhaled slowly, staring at the scattered fragments.

It was too unstable.

Blade's blood was too potent, too strong to mix with the virus as it was.

But... that didn't mean it wouldn't work. It just meant he had to stabilize it.

He had to tame the storm.

Y/N wiped the glass off his gloves, already running calculations in his head. His body was exhausted, his mind stretched thin, but there was no time for failure.

He turned to Alfred, his voice measured

Y/N: Get me another vial

Alfred hesitated for a brief moment before nodding, already moving toward the medical station.

Y/N turned back to the Batcomputer.

This was it.

He was going to fix this

The world only saw one side of him.

To the public, he was Y/N Wayne, the billionaire playboy, the face of Wayne Industries, the enigmatic heir to an empire of wealth. He was the man seen at charity galas, rubbing elbows with New York's elite, smiling for cameras, effortlessly charming when necessary.

But this?

This was who he truly was.

A mind sharpened like a blade, a force of intellect that could rival the greatest minds in the world.

With an IQ of 192, Y/N's intelligence was nearly six standard deviations above the average human. A genius in every sense of the word. His mind wasn't just wired for business... it was wired for war.

Law. Forensic science. Biology. Chemistry. Physics.

There was nothing he hadn't studied, no field of knowledge that he hadn't forced into his mind through relentless training and discipline.

And now, all of it was focused on one goal.

Finding the one anomaly in Blade's blood that separated him from the curse of vampirism.

He worked like a machine. His fingers moved across the Batcomputer's interface at a relentless pace, feeding data, scanning genetic structures, running calculations. His brain was moving faster than the computer itself, dissecting the problem even before the simulations could confirm his theories

Kate's blood was infected.

Blade's blood was immune.

The vampire genes inside Blade were somehow suppressed, kept in check by an unknown factor. That's what Y/N needed to find.

The separation process was a nightmare. Blade's DNA was unique... an almost impossible fusion of human and vampire genetics. The virus should have consumed him, but it didn't. Something inside his anatomy prevented it

Y/N barely looked up from his work, his eyes scanning the genetic sequences flashing across the Batcomputer's screen. He was running calculations, running tests...running out of time. Kate's blood was destabilizing, the vampiric infection spreading through her like wildfire.

But the answer was right in front of him.

With Blade

He turned toward the man, his expression intense

Y/N: How are you... not like them? I know you got all of their strengths but none of their weaknesses. I want to know how

Blade was silent for a moment, standing there like a statue, his arms crossed over his broad chest. His gaze, hidden behind those dark sunglasses, was unreadable. But when he finally spoke, his voice was steady, matter-of-fact, with a weight behind it that spoke of years of pain, loss, and war

Blade: My mother... she was bitten by a vampire while she was pregnant with me. I was born... different

That was the key.

Blade's very existence was the anomaly Y/N had been searching for. A natural-born Daywalker... the bridge between the living and the undead.

But if that was true...

Then maybe, just maybe, Y/N could recreate that anomaly. Synthesize it. Stabilize it.

Maybe he could save Kate

Y/N had been breaking it down, analyzing every last drop of Blade's blood, trying to isolate the compound that made Blade what he was. A vampire, yet not a slave to the thirst.

And then... he found it.

His heart pounded in his chest as he adjusted the molecular structures on-screen, watching the data shift in real-time. His fingers flew across the keyboard, isolating the compound, purifying it. It was there... the missing piece

A cure

His gloved hand trembled as he reached for a vial, carefully mixing the synthesized agent with Kate's infected blood. The moment the two substances merged, Y/N saw... something alive.

Under the microscope, the infected blood twisted and curled, tendrils stretching like a jellyfish in water. For a moment, it looked like it would reject the antidote like all the others before it.

And then... it stabilized.

The movement slowed, the infection stopped its rampage. The blood was normal again.

Y/N's breath caught in his throat

He leaned back slightly, his eyes locked onto the screen, then to the vial in his hand. He had done it. His voice was barely above a whisper as he exhaled, his grip tightening around the vial

Y/N: Stable...

He had finally done it. The weight on his shoulders, the crushing despair of watching Kate succumb to the infection, all of it seemed lighter now

But it wasn't over.

Not yet.

He poured the antidote into a blood bag, sealing it tightly before turning on his heel and heading straight for the containment cell

Kate, or rather, what was left of her sat curled in the corner, her long, raven-black hair cascading over her face. She had barely moved in hours, her breathing ragged and shallow. But Y/N knew she wasn't asleep

She was waiting.

The moment he stepped inside, she stirred. Her head lifted slightly, and piercing red eyes gleamed in the dim light

Kate: He is coming... he is coming to get me once he brings La Magra back...

Y/N didn't say a word. He merely watched her, his heart aching at how unfamiliar she seemed. Her face, the woman he loved, twisted into something both terrifying and tragic.

Instead of answering, he threw the blood bag toward her.

Kate caught it on instinct, her fingers trembling as she brought it to her lips. The hunger, the insatiable, burning need for sustenance took over. She drank without hesitation, savoring the taste.

But then... something changed

Her expression twisted, her brows furrowing as she pulled back slightly, as if tasting something foreign. Her breath quickened, her body tensed. And then, suddenly...

She screamed.

The sound tore through the Batcave, a mixture of agony and something... else. Her body convulsed violently, her back arching against the cold metal of the containment cell. Her fingers dug into the ground, her nails scratching at the stone

Y/N's heart nearly stopped

He took a step forward, but he couldn't open the door, not yet. Not until he knew what was happening

She screamed again, her body was thrashing, fighting, and then, just as suddenly as it had begun...

She went still.

Her breathing slowed. Her muscles relaxed.

And then... color returned to her skin.

The ghastly pale hue that had overtaken her complexion faded, warmth spreading across her cheeks again. The veins on her neck and temples disappeared. Her irises, once blood-red turned back to their original blue.

And then, the last thing Y/N checked... the bite mark on her neck.

Gone.

His breath caught in his throat.

It worked

Without hesitation, Y/N unlocked the cell and rushed inside. He didn't care about the risk anymore. He fell to his knees beside her, his hands already moving to cup her face, brushing strands of hair away

Y/N: Kate...

His voice was barely above a whisper as he checked her pulse... steady. Her breathing... normal

And then, slowly... her lashes fluttered.

Y/N felt his chest tighten as she stirred awake, her expression confused, dazed. And then, her gaze locked onto his.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. A tense, almost fragile stillness between them

Then, in a breathless whisper...

Kate: ...Y/N?

His lips parted, relief crashing into him like a tidal wave

Y/N: You're okay... you're okay, Kate...

He barely had time to process before she surged forward.

Her hands grasped at his collar, pulling him in as their lips met in a desperate, fervent kiss. Y/N immediately reciprocated, his hands sliding up to cradle her face as if she might disappear if he let go.

It was raw, filled with every unsaid word, every moment of fear, every ounce of love.

When they finally pulled apart, Kate let out a shaky breath, her forehead resting against his

Kate: I... I thought I was gone

Y/N swallowed hard, pressing another kiss to her temple before whispering

Y/N: I... I didn't want to think it but... I thought that too...

She exhaled softly, her grip tightening around him.

Y/N then pulled back slightly, his expression hardening

Y/N: This isn't over

As Y/N helped Kate out of the containment cell, her legs wobbled slightly, still weak from the ordeal. He wrapped an arm around her waist, supporting her weight as they stepped into the dimly lit Batcave.

That's when they saw him.

Blade stood a few feet away, his arms crossed, leaning slightly against one of the Batcomputer's server towers. His dark sunglasses hid his eyes, but the slight tilt of his head showed his surprise. Shock, even.

Kate blinked, still groggy

Kate: W-Who...?

Y/N kept his arm around her but nodded toward Blade

Y/N: Kate, this is Blade. He helped us

Kate's brows furrowed as she looked between the two men.

Y/N exhaled, running a hand through his hair

Y/N: It's because of him that I managed to cure you

Blade's head tilted slightly, as if studying her. Then, with a slow exhale, he muttered

Blade: Damn...

He stepped closer, glancing between Y/N and Kate, then down at the blood samples on the nearby workstation

Blade: I've spent years hunting these things. Killed thousands. Stopped them from spreading, from taking over. And you... 

He looked directly at Y/N now.

Blade: ...You found a cure.

Blade was silent for a long moment. Then, a slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head

After that, a static-filled voice cut through the cave's quiet hum.

Blade lifted his communicator, his fingers tightening around it as a familiar, smug voice bled through

Frost: Hey, Blade. I heard you were looking for me

Deacon Frost...

Blade's jaw clenched as he listened, his grip on the device tightening

Frost: Well, as you know, we got your friend Karen. How's old Whistler doing? Oh, wait... you didn't let him turn, did you? Bummer...

Y/N said nothing, his expression hardening as he turned to the Batcomputer. His fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard, his mind working like a machine. He needed a location. Fast

Y/N: Keep him talking...

Y/N muttered to Blade, his eyes fixed on the data stream in front of him.

Blade's lips pressed into a thin line. He took a slow breath, controlling his anger

Blade: Frost. You really think I'd trust your word?

A dry chuckle echoed through the communicator

Frost: I just wanted to give you some... reassurance. I won't do no wrong to her. I promise you I won't hurt her if you show up to my location

Y/N's screen flickered, the trace running through multiple rerouted signals. He was getting close... almost there

Then, the line shifted

Frost: The catacombs of Westchester. No funny business, or else...

The call cut off.

Y/N froze. His hands hovered over the keyboard, then slowly withdrew. He had what he needed.

Silence settled in the cave.

Alfred, who had been standing behind them, finally spoke

Alfred: What are you going to do, sir?

Y/N inhaled deeply, his eyes flicking toward the blood samples, the antidote formulas still processing. His mind was already made up

Y/N: Start producing as much of the antidote as you can. If Dracula's there, I believe we've got a shot at ending this. Two birds. One stone

A weight hung in the air.

Alfred hesitated before speaking again, his eyes shifting toward Kate, who was standing nearby, watching silently

Alfred: And if Dracula is indeed there, sir... will you...?

Kate didn't need to hear the rest of the question. She knew exactly what Alfred was asking.

Y/N's one rule.

The rule that defined him. The rule he swore never to break.

Y/N's gaze was distant for a moment. Then, his eyes locked onto Alfred's

Y/N: Dracula might look like a man... but he's a monster. And tonight... I'll bury him once and for all

He exhaled

Y/N: I have a plan...

Later that day...

Westchester Catacombs

The air inside the catacombs was thick with dampness, the scent of old stone and decay pressing against Blade's senses as he moved deeper into the shadows. His footsteps were light, calculated. Every nerve in his body was on high alert. He had been walking into traps his whole life... this was no different.

Then, a voice.

Soft. Familiar

???: Eric?

Blade's blood ran cold.

His grip on his sword tightened as he turned, his other hand instinctively reaching for his pistol. But the moment his eyes settled on the figure before him, something inside him faltered.

A woman stood there, framed by the dim light that barely reached the cavern's depths.

Black, curly hair. Smooth, dark skin.

She looked exactly as he remembered her. Exactly as he imagined her in his dreams, in his nightmares.

His mother...

Blade's sunglasses slipped down his nose as he stared, disbelief flickering in his normally unreadable expression.

Blade: But you died...

The woman, Vanessa took a step forward, her eyes full of something unreadable

Vanessa: I came back, Eric. That very same night. And Deacon welcomed me into his arms

Blade's muscles tensed.

Then... 

A sharp, electric jolt tore through his back.

His body seized up as pain exploded through him. His sword clattered to the stone floor as his limbs spasmed. He barely had time to turn before another surge of electricity shot through him, sending him crashing to his knees

From the shadows, Deacon Frost stepped forward, twirling a high-voltage taser in his hand

Frost: Jesus Christ...

It felt ironic... a vampire saying that name out loud

Blade gritted his teeth, pushing against the pain, his body screaming at him to move.

Frost crouched beside him, feigning disappointment

Frost: I thought you'd be happy, man! Finally being reunited with your mother...and you act like this?

Blade lunged, only for another set of goons to rush him, jamming electrified batons into his sides.

His vision blurred as his body convulsed. He barely kept himself from screaming.

Frost just laughed

Frost: Blade, c'mon... it's over. She belongs to me, buddy

Blade collapsed onto his hands and knees, his breaths ragged. His body felt like it was being ripped apart from the inside.

Frost leaned in, his smirk widening

Frost: You spent your whole life looking for the vampire who bit your mother.

He spread his arms, grinning

Frost: Well... here I am

Blade's blurred vision flicked toward Vanessa. She didn't move.

He wasn't sure if it was his mother looking back at him anymore.

Another shock and Blade's body went still. The world spun, and darkness crept into his vision.

The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was Frost's voice, dripping with amusement.

Frost: Here we are... one big happy fucking family.

The Bank of Erebus...

Deep within the catacombs, hidden beneath centuries of secrecy, stood a temple older than any of the buildings above it, a place known only to the creatures of the night. The Bank of Erebus, a sacred chamber built by the Pure Bloods, those born into vampirism, not turned by infection

These were no fledglings, no thralls or desperate creatures clawing for scraps of immortality. These were the direct descendants of the ancients, proud, powerful, and untouched by the filth of human mortality. They had no need for the daywalkers' crude methods, nor the desperate feeding of lesser vampires.

Tonight, they had gathered for a ritual unlike any before.

Tonight, they stood before their king.

At the center of the grand temple, draped in darkness and moonlight that filtered through ancient cracks, stood Count Dracula.

The legend. The king of vampires.

Clad in regal black, his presence alone commanded silence. His eyes, deep pools of crimson, burned with the weight of countless lifetimes. He lifted his hands as he addressed his congregation, his voice echoing through the cavernous chamber

Dracula: Welcome to the Temple of Night

His words were slow, deliberate, laced with an authority that sent shivers down the spines of even the most powerful Pure Bloods

Dracula: Your forefathers built this sacred place for one singular moment in history... to usher in the Blood Tide

Murmurs swept through the crowd, anticipation thick in the air. They had spent centuries in the shadows, waiting for this night. For his return.

And as he spoke, Blade and Karen were dragged into the chamber.

Blade was barely standing. The effects of the thirst tore through his body, his muscles trembling, his breath ragged. His serum, the only thing keeping him from becoming what he hated, had long worn off. He had resisted for hours, but the hunger was creeping into his bones, his mind clouded by the scent of blood all around him

Karen, bound and helpless, was forced to watch as he was thrown to his knees before the altar.

Quinn and Mercury rummaged through Blade's discarded gear, their laughter echoing in the chamber. Quinn lifted Blade's punching dagger, running his fingers along its deadly edge.

Meanwhile, Mercury held up Blade's sword, her lips curling into a smirk as she handed it to Deacon Frost.

Frost unsheathed the weapon, testing its weight in his hands, before grinning at Blade. With a quick flick of his wrist

SLASH

A thin red line appeared across Blade's cheek.

Frost chuckled, admiring the clean cut

Frost: Still sharp, I see

Blade didn't react. He just stared at Frost with barely contained fury, his breathing heavy, his eyes dark.

Frost crouched down, gripping Blade's hair and jerking his head up to meet his gaze

Frost: How long has it been since you had your serum? Twelve hours? More? I bet you're real thirsty right now...

Frost rose to his feet, motioning to his goons

Frost: Take him to the sanctuary. It's time he was bled.

A couple of goons' hands grabbed Blade, dragging him across the floor. He fought, but weakened by the thirst and the earlier torture, he was powerless against them

Dracula watched as Blade disappeared into the sanctuary.

He did not care for Frost's petty games, nor his ambitions. The so-called La Magra was nothing but a child's dream compared to his real power.

But the Daywalker's presence here was significant.

For Dracula's plans, for the ritual.

For her.

Dracula turned, his piercing gaze sweeping across the Lost Ones, his own faction, his own personal children of the night. They stood at the edge of the temple, dozens of them, creatures more ancient and terrifying than even the Pure Bloods

He motioned with a single, commanding gesture

Dracula: Come, my children of the night...

And as the shadows swallowed him, the hunt began

The antechamber above the temple was bathed in eerie crimson light. Flickering torches lined the walls, their flames casting long, wretched shadows that danced like specters across the ancient stonework. The scent of blood hung thick in the air.

At the center of the room, Blade was bound to an iron frame, his arms stretched outward like a crucifix. His wrists had been slit, the deep red lifeblood draining from his veins, dripping down into the temple below

His strength was fading fast. He could feel it leaving his body in slow, agonizing pulses, each drop a piece of him stolen.

Beneath him, the Pure Bloods, the eldest, most powerful of their kind stood in a perfect circle. Their faces, once proud and cold, were now contorted in a strange, desperate expression as Blade's blood rained upon them.

Then...

A violent bolt of lightning tore through the chamber, striking the first of the Pure Bloods. The vampire let out a hideous, inhuman scream, his body convulsing. Then another. And another.

One by one, the Pure Bloods began to shake violently, their mouths stretching wide in silent agony as the ritual reached its terrible climax.

The ancient prophecy was unfolding. The Blood God was awakening.

The temple trembled as La Magra, the long-dormant spirit of vampires was starting to awake

And then, something even more unnatural began.

Their flesh melted away.

Their bodies twisted and contorted, their skin flaying as an otherworldly force took hold. Great, skeletal wings burst from their backs. Their mouths became twisted howls of torment as their souls were forcibly ripped from their physical forms.

They became wraiths.

Spirit-Wraiths.

No longer bound to their bodies, they took flight, their spectral wings beating against the temple air, their translucent forms writhing and flickering like ghosts caught in a storm. They swarmed like a hurricane, their anguished cries filling the temple as they circled a Frost

He stood at the eye of the storm, his arms raised in triumph, his head tilted back as the wraiths flew through him, one by one, each spirit merging with his being.

Their power was his. Their essence became him.

The storm reached its peak And then, silence...

The wraiths were gone. The chamber stood still.

Frost opened his eyes... but they weren't his anymore.

His pupils had vanished, replaced by endless pools of darkness, swirling with red 

He breathed in. Power. Endless, insatiable power.

Mercury, his lover, stepped forward hesitantly, looking at him, her usual smirk replaced by uncertainty.

She reached out a hand, touching his cheek. His skin was still smooth, still Deacon Frost, but something was wrong. Different

Mercury: Deacon?

Then, a slow, knowing smile crept across his lips.

Frost: Not anymore.

La Magra had awakened. And he was inside Frost now

In the sanctuary up above, Blade hung from his bindings, his body weak and trembling. The thirst clawed at his mind, a relentless hunger that gnawed at his insides. His veins burned, his mouth dry, his muscles aching from the loss of blood.

But he wasn't done yet.

His head lolled to the side, and that's when he saw her.

Vanessa.

His mother.

She stepped forward from the shadows, her black curls cascading over her shoulders, her golden skin now pale, her once-warm brown eyes glowing red with the curse that had claimed her long ago.

Her voice was soft, almost loving

Vanessa: Oh Eric...

Blade exhaled slowly. His mother. The woman he had dreamed about for years, imagined holding him as a child, whispering lullabies into his ear. The woman he had thought dead for his entire life.

And yet, here she was.

He clenched his jaw. 

No. Not his mother. Not anymore.

His fingers searched the ground, barely brushing against something hard. He forced his eyes downward, among the ancient bones littering the sanctuary's floor, he saw one sharpened to a jagged point.

A weapon

Summoning the last reserves of strength left in his drained body, Blade grasped the bone, tightening his grip until his knuckles cracked.

Then, with a burst of fury, he lunged, slamming her against the wall.

Her eyes widened in shock as her back hit the cold stone, Blade pinning her in place. The jagged bone hovered inches from her chest.

For a moment, there was only silence between them.

Then, she smiled.

A soft, knowing smile

Vanessa: You wouldn't hurt your mother, right, Eric?

Blade's breath was ragged, his vision blurring. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, the thirst still raging inside him.

But his grip on the bone didn't falter.

He swallowed hard. Then, softly...

Blade: No...

Her smile widened.

For the briefest of moments, she thought she had won.

Then, he whispered...

Blade: I must release you.

And with one brutal thrust, he drove the bone into her chest.

Her eyes went wide. A gasp escaped her lips

Her body erupted into embers, flames licking at her form as her flesh disintegrated into blackened ash, swirling in the air like burnt paper.

Blade didn't move. He just watched, expression unreadable, as the last remnants of Vanessa Brooks were carried away by the stale underground wind.

And then... she was gone.

Nothing left.

Only dust.

Blade collapsed to his knees, his body shaking from the loss of blood. His vision darkening, the world around him blurring as his mind teetered on the edge of unconsciousness.

His breathing was ragged, each inhale feeling like fire in his lungs. The pain was unbearable. The thirst was worse.

Footsteps.

Then a soft voice...

Karen: Blade?

He barely registered her beside him. His limbs felt numb, his strength completely drained. His wrists, still slick with freshly spilled blood, trembled as he tried to keep himself from completely falling forward.

She knelt beside him, concern etching her face.

Karen reached out, gently touching his face, her fingers brushing against his skin

Blade: Gotta stop...

Blade's jaw clenched. His fangs touching his lowe lip, the thirst clawing at his mind like a rabid beast.

Blade: Gotta... stop...

His words were slurred. Karen checked his eyes.

His pupils were dilated, rimmed with crimson. The telltale sign of someone on the verge of losing control

Karen: You're hypovolemic. You're bleeding to death.

He barely nodded. He knew that. He knew he was moments away from passing out completely.

His voice was weak, strained

Blade: Serum... need... serum...

Karen hesitated. She knew what he needed.

But she also knew... he didn't have any left

Not here. Not now.

Her fingers curled into fists as she glanced around the room, heart pounding. There was only one way to save him.

She looked back at Blade.

Karen: I want you to take some of my blood.

Blade's head snapped up slightly, his breath hitching. He shook his head.

Blade: No...

His voice was hoarse, but firm.

Karen leaned in, her lips so close to his ear.

Karen: Look... just do it

Blade shuddered. The scent of her pulsing, warm, human blood filled his senses, calling to him. The beast inside begged for release.

His hand shot forward, grasping her by the shoulders, pulling her flush against him. His breath was hot against her skin.

Karen tilted her head, offering herself freely.

A second passed.

Then, Blade's fangs sank into her throat.

She gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders as the sharp sting turned into something else. Her breath hitched, her pulse racing beneath his lips.

It was intense. Erotic even...

The sensation sent a shiver down her spine, her body instinctively pressing closer. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she felt his mouth move against her neck, drinking from her, taking her in.

Karen: Don't stop... don't stop...

Blade growled, deep and guttural, his grip on her tightening. The more he drank, the stronger he felt. The thirst that had once been his greatest weakness was now fueling him, revitalizing him.

His veins burned with newfound power. His muscles coiled, his strength returning in full force.

And then...

With a final, feral roar, Blade threw his head back.

His eyes snapped open, blazing red.

His body thrummed with power. He clenched his fists, feeling the raw energy surging through his veins.

He was back.

And nothing was going to hold him down now

Beneath the sanctuary, deep in the heart of the catacombs, Deacon Frost stood tall, reveling in his newfound godhood. His form pulsed with unnatural energy, his crimson eyes gleaming. His veins coursed with raw power, his body infused with the very essence of La Magra, the Blood God.

He flexed his fingers, his nails elongating into black talons, his lips curling into a satisfied grin. He could feel it... the hunger, the power, the absolute dominance over all other vampires.

He had ascended.

And soon, the world would kneel.

Then...

A knock at the door.

Frost furrowed his brow, glancing toward the massive stone entrance

Frost: The hell...?

He flicked his wrist, motioning for a few of his vampires to check it out.

The goons approached, moving with cautious confidence.

The one in front reached for the handle...

BOOM!

The door exploded inward, sending stone and shrapnel flying like deadly projectiles.

The shockwave sent others hurtling backward, crashing against the walls and columns. A thick cloud of dust and smoke swallowed the entrance, obscuring their vision.

Through the debris, a silhouette emerged.

A dark figure. A monster in his own right.

The cape billowed, the horned cowl cast in shadow, the outline of a predator stepping into his hunting grounds.

Then, through fire and the flames, he passed through the door, as if to get their attention

Batman

Frost's face twisted in pure rage

Frost: Run... that... bastard... down!

The remaining vampires rushed forward, their inhuman screeches echoing through the chamber, their fangs bared

Dracula emerged from the dark recesses of the temple, moving like a wraith. His crimson cloak trailed behind him like liquid night, and his glowing red eyes locked onto Batman with unwavering intensity.

And he was not alone.

His proxies followed

Meanwhile, Blade made his entrance.

He dropped dead center into the heart of the temple, stone cracking beneath his impact. The room was vast, with ancient vampire runes carved into the walls, surrounding the massive altar where Deacon Frost stood basking in his godhood. The purebloods were no more, their souls now part of La Magra, and Frost stood as their host

Blade's eyes snapped up to him. His fists clenched. His rage burned inside him

Blade: FROOOOOOOOSSSSST!

The cry shook the temple.

Frost slowly turned. His smug smirk widened, fangs gleaming under the dim, hellish glow of the chamber.

Frost: Kill him.

Immediately, Quinn stepped forward, cracking his neck, rolling his shoulders. His cocky, shit-eating grin was on full display. He was different from the others. He had history with Blade.

The bastard had lost two of his hands before... to Blade

Now, he had both again.

Quinn wiggled his fingers, one hand gripping Blade's own punching dagger, the other flexing eagerly.

Quinn: Wait! I owe you, man. I got two new hands, Blade. And I don't know which one I wanna use to kill you with

Blade didn't move. He barely even blinked.

Then... 

With lightning-fast precision, he hooked a single finger through the metal ring at the end of his vest, pulling out a retractable strangle-wire.

Quinn's eyes widened

SHINK!

His head came clean off

As the dust settled, Blade snatched his sunglasses out of mid-air and with practiced ease, he slid them on

https://youtu.be/poYY1eSCFc8

Meanwhile...

Y/N sprinted through the ancient tunnels, the air thick with the scent of blood, stone, and death. The echoes of inhuman screeches chased him, the pounding footsteps of Dracula's undead horde closing in behind him.

He wasn't running from them. He was leading them away.

The Bank of Erebus was no longer the battlefield he needed. Blade was handling Frost, and if things went south, Y/N needed to ensure that Dracula,the true monster, was far from interfering.

He finally burst into an open cavern, a vast underground chamber that had once been a crypt. The jagged ceiling was lost in the darkness above, torches lining the walls with flickering firelight. Broken stone coffins littered the ground, shattered headstones half-buried in the ground

He stopped... because in the span of mere seconds, he was no longer the hunter.

He was the hunted.

From the shadows, dozens of glowing red eyes appeared... Vampires. Feral, twisted, starved things. They moved like spiders along the walls, their bodies contorted, bones protruding through their pale flesh. Some were newborns, their forms barely human, others were ancient creatures, their bodies resembling withered corpses, but with inhuman strength and speed.

And standing at the entrance of the cave, blocking his escape, was Dracula.

The Count stood in regal stillness, his crimson eyes glowing in the dim light, his presence exuding absolute authority over the damned creatures surrounding Y/N. His mouth curled into a smile.

Dracula: Cornered, little Bat.

Y/N didn't respond.

He only stood there. Unmoving. Silent.

Dracula took a slow step forward, his cape flowing like liquid shadow.

Dracula: You fascinate me. Do you truly believe you are a predator in my domain?

The vampires closed in, circling, their growls reverberating against the cavern walls. Their hunger was palpable, their fingers twitching, their bodies coiling like beasts ready to pounce.

Still, Y/N did not move.

Then...he exhaled. And with one smooth motion...

He threw his cape back, revealing the arsenal strapped to his body.

Rows upon rows of syringes lined his torso, thighs, and waist... filled with a translucent liquid that gleamed under the torchlight.

The antidote.

A death sentence to them all.

Y/N slowly lifted his gaze. And then... he smirked

The first vampire lunged.

Y/N sidestepped, twisting his body in a swift motion, his hand lashed out, jamming a syringe into the creature's neck. The vampire let out a choked gasp, its body convulsing violently as the antidote coursed through its veins.

With a snarl, its fangs retracted, its glowing red eyes faded to their human color, and the monstrous claws dulled into normal hands.

Y/N didn't stop to watch.

Another leaped from above, snarling. He spun, ducked low, and plunged a second syringe into its ribs. The vampire screeched, writhing as it fell to the ground, its body slowly reverting back to human form.

The others saw, but they did not care.

They all charged

Y/N moved like a shadow, dodging their strikes with precision, twisting his body at impossible angles, slipping between them like smoke. With every calculated movement, his hand snapped forward, jabbing another syringe into an exposed neck, an unguarded side, a reaching arm.

One by one... they fell.

His gauntlets were now slick with sweat and blood, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. The vampires' shrieks echoed through the cavern, their suffering short but agonizing as their bodies fought against the infection.

Then... they overwhelmed him.

Fangs snapped at his throat. Claws tore at his armor. A dozen of them pinned him down, piling over him, forcing him to the ground

He felt teeth scrape against his cowl, jaws closing in on his flesh

So, they forced his hand...

A thick cloud erupted from his belt. The garlic bomb. The pungent, toxic mist exploded outward, coating the vampires, seeping into their lungs, noses, and eyes.

They screamed. Convulsed. Clawed at their own throats.

They collapsed, coughing, retching, blinded.

Y/N didn't waste time.

He drove his fists into their chests, jabbing the last of his syringes into their exposed skin. Each impact was swift, each injection precise. Until, finally the cavern fell silent.

Y/N stood amidst the pile of unconscious, now human bodies. Chest heaving. Hands trembling.

He then looked down at his belt.

No more antidote

He exhaled sharply, then turned.

And in the darkness, one figure remained standing

Dracula stalked forward, his red eyes gleaming in the dark cavern. The scent of garlic and blood still hung in the air, but he didn't falter

Dracula: All of this... and for what? There is no salvation from my curse, Batman

Y/N didn't answer.

His hand flicked, and in an instant, a batarang sliced through the air, not aimed at Dracula, but at the cavern wall behind him.

BOOM!

A controlled explosion sent shards of stone cascading down, dust filling the air in a thick cloud. Dracula hissed, recoiling from the blast, his supernatural senses were sharp, but even he couldn't see through the storm of debris.

And by the time the smoke cleared, Batman was gone.

Dracula's jaw clenched, his sharp nails digging into his palm

Dracula: Running will not save you, Dark Knight...

The catacombs stretched endlessly, a labyrinth of ancient stone and death. Y/N weaved through the narrow passageways, his boots barely making a sound against the damp ground.

Behind him, Dracula moved like a phantom, his strides unnaturally fluid, his presence an overwhelming force of darkness pressing down on the tunnels.

Y/N ducked under a collapsing archway, his cape billowing as he slid over loose rubble. A sharp wind brushed past his cheek. Dracula's claws missing him by mere inches.

Y/N turned a corner, then another. He was leading him deeper, further into the maze.

But Dracula was relentless

He lunged towards Batman, sending them crashing into a wall

And just like that, they were in the Batcave.

Y/N groaned, the wind knocked out of him as he landed hard on the cavern floor. Before he could move, a clawed hand wrapped around his throat.

Dracula stood above him, his inhuman strength pinning Y/N down, his cape billowing behind him like the wings of a great beast. His eyes burned with hellfire, and his fangs gleamed under the cave lights

Dracula: Impressive dwelling

Dracula mused, surveying the cavernous lair with an amused grin. He turned his gaze back to the helpless Dark Knight beneath him

Dracula: It shall be your tomb

But then, a voice echoed through the cave.

A voice they both knew.

Kate: Stop!

Dracula's head snapped toward the source.

Kate.

She stood near the Batcave's elevator, her silhouette illuminated by the faint blue glow of the Batcomputer. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, her lips parted slightly, her fangs visible.

Had she turned?

Dracula's expression shifted... not to anger, but to awe. His grip on Y/N loosened as he took an uncertain step forward.

But Dracula saw someone else.

Elisabeta.

His lost love. His reason for madness.

Kate took a step forward, her voice softer, sultry, playing into his twisted fantasy.

Kate: My love... I'm here.

Dracula's face broke into an enraptured grin, the darkness in his soul melting into adoration. He moved forward, hands trembling, as if afraid she'd vanish into thin air

Dracula: At last, we are reunited

Kate tilted her head, feigning affection.

Kate: Spare this Bat now...

She purred

Kate: Let's show him our love...

Dracula didn't hesitate. He reached for her, hands brushing against her face, eyes locking onto hers as he leaned in... his lips nearly touching hers.

Then...

A whisper against his ear

Kate: Bite this...

Kate slammed a syringe into his neck, injecting the antidote directly into his system.

Dracula staggered, his body locking up as he gasped. But then—nothing. No convulsions. No burning flesh.

It didn't work.

A low chuckle rumbled from Dracula's throat, growing into full-bodied laughter.

Kate's eyes widened

Dracula grinned, his fangs sharp as daggers

Dracula: You may have cured my human victims of their disease... but no earthly medicine can cure a supernatural affliction

And in a blur of movement, he backhanded her across the room.

Kate crashed against the elevator doors, her body hitting the metal with a sickening thud before collapsing to the floor.

Y/N gritted his teeth

Dracula turned, only to see Batman already grappling up to the upper platforms of the Batcave

Dracula: Go on, run!

Dracula sneered, his voice booming across the cave walls. His body began to hover off the ground, levitating with unnatural grace

Dracula: I am beyond human, Batman!

His arms stretched outward as if embracing his own power. His voice turned into a monstrous roar

Dracula: I AM EVIL INCARNATE! I AM THE PRINCE OF...

Then he saw it.

Batman stood on one of the metal walkways above, positioned near a large, cylindrical machine, one that Dracula recognized immediately.

The Wayne Industries SL5.

The device from the Energy Expo.

Dracula's confidence shattered into realization

Dracula: ...Darkness?

Y/N: Rise and shine

As he presses a button, the cave was instantly flooded with sunlight.

A pillar of golden-white light erupted from the SL5, its artificial solar energy washing over Dracula like the dawn of judgment day.

Dracula screamed in agony. His skin blackened and cracked, his eyes boiling in their sockets. The sheer power of the light seared through his flesh, sending him staggering backward, his arms raised in vain against the unrelenting brilliance

The only thing keeping him alive was the shadow Batman was casting over him.

Dracula's head snapped toward him, the truth clicking together in his mind.

His crimson eyes flickered, horror dawning in them

Dracula: You're... Y/N Wayne?

Y/N took a step forward, his shadow growing, wings spreading

Y/N: I'm the Batman. And you're dust

Batman then grapples away, leaving Dracula completely exposed.

The solar light engulfed him.

Dracula shrieked, his form writhing as the light burned away centuries of immortality. His flesh peeled back in layers, his bones turning to ember and ash

Then, dropping down, Batman hits him with one last powerful punch, sending a shockwave of bones and dust all around the cave

Only his skull remained

Meanwhile...

Blade was hurting.

Bruised. Bleeding. Slower than he should've been.

And Frost wasn't even breaking a sweat.

The so-called Blood God stood before him, his eyes glowing crimson, his skin pulsing with unnatural power. Every attack Blade threw, every cut, every stab... it didn't matter. Frost would heal immediately

Blade snarled, rolling to his feet. His knuckles tightened around his sword as Frost grinned at him, arms spread wide, inviting him to try again

Frost: What's the matter, Daywalker? Getting tired?

Frost moved fast... too fast. Before Blade could react, a fist slammed into his gut, lifting him off the ground.

Another hit, his ribs cracked.

Then a backhand sent him crashing into a stone pillar, dust exploding around him. Blade coughed, spitting blood. This was bad.

Above them, Karen stood on the ledge, desperate. She could see it. Blade was losing

She reached into her pack, grabbing the serum she'd been developing. It wasn't a cure... in fact, it did the opposite. It overloaded a vampire's blood regeneration, making it expand faster than their bodies could handle

Karen took a deep breath, then shouted down to him

Karen: Hey, Blade!

Blade looked up just in time to see something flying toward him. A pack of syringes.

He snatches them mid-air.

Blade then rolls the syringes in his hand, eyes narrowing

He throws one and it hits Frost right in the abdomen. The Blood God staggered just for a second. His hand drifted to the wound, eyes narrowing

Frost: That all you got?

And then he charged.

But Blade didn't hesitate.

With perfect precision, he hurled the rest of the syringes at Frost.

They struck home the chest, the abdomen again and the thigh. Frost staggered, but kept moving. His red eyes widened slightly as something felt... off.

Blade watched, waiting, his grip tightening around the last syringe in his palm.

Frost landed, skidding forward and grunted. The serum was working.

His body tensed, shaking, his veins bulging under his skin. His face contorted in confusion, then pain. He stumbled, gasping.

Blade exhaled through his nose

And then, he said it...

Blade: Some motherfuckers are always trying to ice skate uphill...

Then he kicked the last syringe. It spun through the air and embedded itself right in Frost's forehead

Frost's eyes went wide

Blade took a step back as Frost's body began to inflate

Red...

Redder...

Boom!

Frost exploded, chunks of blood and flesh splattering across the temple walls

A couple of minutes later, Blade and Karen stood on the temple steps, watching the sunrise.

The golden light spilled across the skyline, washing away the blood and darkness of the night before.

Karen took a deep breath, turning to Blade

Karen: I need to get back to the lab. Study more of your blood. If I'm going to cure you...

Blade cut her off

Blade: It's not over.

Blade looked out over the city, his jaw tight, his eyes hidden behind his shades

Blade: Keep your cure. There's still a war going on... and I have a job to do. You want to help? Make me a better serum

A couple of days later...

Manhattan, New York

Sanctum Santorum

The flickering candlelight cast twisting shadows across the dimly lit study. The air was thick with the scent of incense, a strange but fitting combination in the heart of the Sanctum Sanctorum.

Y/N Wayne sat across from Doctor Stephen Strange, their armchairs positioned on opposite sides of a low, circular table. Strange, ever the composed sorcerer, studied him with a piercing gaze

Between them sat two cups of tea, untouched.

Y/N hadn't said much yet.

The silence stretched.

Strange finally spoke, his voice measured

Dr. Strange: You look troubled, Wayne

Y/N exhaled, rubbing his temples

Y/N: Yeah. That's one way to put it

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees

Y/N: I just spent the last few days fighting a vampire king, an army of his followers, and a blood god. My girlfriend nearly turned. My city was inches away from being overrun. And if it weren't for Blade, we'd all be dead right now

Strange tilted his head, intrigued

Dr. Strange: Dracula and La Magra

Y/N nodded

Y/N: So... you knew

Strange took a slow sip of his tea

Dr. Strange: Of course

That didn't surprise Y/N. Nothing surprised him anymore

Y/N: Then you understand why I'm here. The world isn't ready for this kind of threat. Hell, neither was I

He looked Strange in the eye

Y/N: But next time? I will be

Strange set his cup down

Dr. Strange: You want to prepare for future supernatural threats

Y/N: Not just me... I want to put together a team. One that specializes in supernatural anomalies... things that people like Captain Marvel, Thor... or maybe even Superman wouldn't know how to deal with

Strange raised an eyebrow

Dr. Strange: The Avengers already exist, Y/N. You've helped rebuild them. Why not expand them?

Y/N: Because this isn't their fight. Most of them don't believe in this stuff, and the ones who do? They aren't equipped for it. The supernatural requires a different kind of soldier. People who know the rules. Who've lived in the dark long enough to understand it

Strange studied him for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded

Dr. Strange: You've already chosen your candidates, haven't you?

Strange gestured for him to continue

Y/N: First, Blade. Obviously

Strange nodded approvingly

Dr. Strange: A logical choice

Y/N: Second, Moon Knight

That made Strange pause

Dr. Strange: Which one? Marc Spector or... which one of his personalities?

Y/N smirked

Y/N: Whicherver picks up the phone first

Strange let out a small chuckle

Dr. Strange: He would be... unpredictable. But effective

Y/N took a breath before saying the last name

Y/N: And third... Zatanna Zatara

Strange's expression didn't change, but there was a knowing glint in his eye

Dr. Strange: Ah... that's interesting

Y/N's smirk faded

Y/N: She's the best at what she does...

Strange leaned back

Dr. Strange: And she was once more than that to you, wasn't she?

Y/N tensed

Y/N: That was... a long time ago

Strange let it go, for now

Dr. Strange: And the team's purpose?

Y/N sat up

Y/N: Containment. Elimination, if necessary. The supernatural world is only getting bigger, Strange. More things are creeping out of the shadows. I need to make sure they don't reach the light. You out of all people should know this

Strange considered this. Then, finally, he nodded

Dr. Strange: Then we'd better get to work

Shadowcrest, San Francisco

The portal swirled shut behind them, leaving Y/N Wayne and Doctor Strange standing in the moonlit backyard of Shadowcrest.

The estate loomed before them, a Gothic masterpiece of stone and shadow, its towering spires and ornate archways blending magic and architecture in a way that defied reality itself. The air here was thick with arcane energy, buzzing like a silent hum against Y/N's skin

He exhaled

Y/N: Wow... She told me she lived in a big house. I didn't expect a mansion

As soon as the words left his mouth, movement caught his eye.

A figure appeared on the front porch, stepping into the light.

Her

Y/N froze.

The last time he saw Zatanna Zatara, the air between them had been filled with a promise—one he never got around to keeping.

And judging by the hard glare on her face... she hadn't forgotten

She walked toward them, boots clicking against the stone steps, her raven hair catching the moonlight just right. The same intense blue eyes. The same confidence in her stride.

The same fire

Y/N: Z...

Before he could finish

SMACK

Her hand cracked across his face, hard enough to make Strange raise an eyebrow.

Y/N barely flinched

Y/N: Was it something I said?

Zatanna crossed her arms, her expression sharp

Zatanna: How about the words, "I'll call you"?

Y/N winced

Zatanna: You had me worried... Thomas

The use of his middle name hit like a dagger to the ribs.

Strange let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying himself.

Moments later, the three of them sat in a grand, dimly lit parlor, surrounded by shelves of ancient tomes, artifacts humming with magic, and a fireplace that burned with blue flames instead of orange. A floating candelabra hovered above them, casting flickering shadows against the high-vaulted ceiling.

Y/N leaned back in a velvet armchair, rubbing his jaw where Zatanna had slapped him earlier. Still stung.

Zatanna, sitting across from him, kicked her boots up onto the coffee table between them, arms crossed

Zatanna: So, let me get this straight...

She glanced at Strange

Zatanna: ... You two want to put together a team focused only on the supernatural?

Strange gave a curt nod

Y/N: Look, Z... you know me. You know who I really am even if we didn't share a single word over the last few years. You know what I was going through... when the world was going through the Blip. I've fought against super soldiers, crime bosses... clowns... but Vampires? That was something else.

Zatanna arched an eyebrow

Zatanna: You don't say...

Y/N leaned forward, elbows on his knees

Y/N: I've spent the last week fighting things that shouldn't exist. I watched people... good people get turned into monsters. I watched the literal King of Vampires try to claim the world alongside a Blood God. And if it wasn't for Blade, or the fact that I had access to solar radiation in my basement...

Zatanna studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable

Zatanna: And you want me to help with that?

Y/N: I need your help with that

Strange cleared his throat, giving her a knowing look

Dr. Strange: You've been watching the world, Zatanna. You've seen the signs. The balance has been shifting for some time now. Something is coming

Her smirk faded slightly

Dr. Strange: ...The supernatural world is no longer hiding in the shadows. It's growing bolder. The walls between realms are thinning. What happened in New York was just the beginning

Y/N nodded

Y/N: We need a team that can fight this war before it gets worse. Blade's in. Moon Knight, too. And if you're willing...

Zatanna looked down, drumming her fingers against her thigh, deep in thought

Zatanna: I got a couple of names names you might be interested in...

Somewhere in Texas

The portal shimmered open, a swirling gateway of orange light, and the three figures stepped through, their boots crunching against the dry dirt of a forgotten graveyard. The air smelled of burnt leather and gasoline, the scent of something old and powerful lingering on the wind.

The moon hung low and heavy, casting long shadows over cracked tombstones and rusted iron gates.

Zatanna led the way, her trench coat billowing behind her, while Y/N and Strange followed closely. They were here for one thing

 The Ghost Rider

As they moved through the graveyard, a single lantern flickered in the darkness.

An old man stood there, leaning on a shovel, his beard long and unkempt, his face lined with age. He looked like he'd been here long before the graves were dug. His accent was thick, his voice gravelly as he spoke

Zatanna: Excuse me... are you...

Caretaker: Johnny Blaze? No... I'm afraid he's over there

He gestured toward a lone figure, standing at the edge of the graveyard, staring into the horizon.

Y/N and the others turned.

There, a man in a leather jacket stood with his back to them, his motorcycle beside him, the chrome reflecting the moonlight.

Even from a distance, they could feel the heat coming off him.

Zatanna exhaled

Zatanna: Mr. Blaze? I believe you'll want to hear what we have to say to you...