(A few hours ago)
Inside the Gotham Grand Royal Hotel, the atmosphere of high-society elegance had been replaced by the acrid scent of tear gas and the neon-green residue of the Joker and his accomplices. The GCPD, led by the weary Commissioner Gordon, were busy zip-tying the last of the Joker's theatrical goons. The "Auction of the Century" had ended not with a gavel's strike, but with the crash of flashbangs and the cackle of the Clown Prince of Crime.
Batman stood at the center of the ballroom, his cape a jagged shadow against the gold-leafed pillars. Beside him were Green Arrow and Black Canary. They had successfully neutralized the Joker and Harley Quinn, but the victory felt hollow.
"Something's missing," Batman rumbled, his cowl-eyes scanning the room.
"Yeah, my patience," Oliver Queen muttered, rubbing a bruised shoulder. "Two clowns made a fool out of us, threw a flashbang in our face and then Harley threw a literal pie at my face."
According to the auction manifest, the centerpiece of the night—an artifact known as the 'Orb of Malphorus'—was gone. Very little was known about the object, save for its ancient provenance and undeniable magical signature. The presence of Jason Blood at the event had been the Bat's first clue; Blood didn't attend parties unless there was something old and dangerous involved.
"The thieves weren't pros," Batman noted, analyzing the security footage on his gauntlet. Two staff members, Morty Sanders and Joyce Rickleton, had vanished during the peak of the chaos right through the balcony.
Soon after, Green Arrow and Black Canary departed for Star City, leaving Batman to return to the Batcave. As Alfred served a silent dinner, the Bat-computer finished its deep-dive into the suspects' lives. Sanders and Rickleton were clean—no priors, no radical associations—nothing but diligent citizens. Even their subsequent police statements, analyzed for micro-expressions by the computer, rang true. They were innocent, which meant the real culprits were wearing their faces.
The meditation on identity was cut short by a shrill alarm. A red icon pulsed over the Diamond District. High-level arcane activity. Batman didn't hesitate; he vaulted into the Bat-plane and reached for the encrypted comms. He needed a specialist for this one.
—---------
(Now)
The Diamond District was a war zone.
Klarion the Witch Boy floated in the center of the intersection, his pale skin glowing with a sickly, translucent light. He was chanting in a dead tongue, a language of grinding stones and ghost-whispers that seemed to vibrate the very atoms of the surroundings.
From the cracks in the asphalt, the shadows themselves began to bleed upward. They detached from the ground, twisting into a literal army of darkness—lithe, eyeless creatures with claws like obsidian shards.
Jake, currently in his draconic-hybrid form, was locked in a brutal dance with Teekl. The cat-familiar in its hulking, humanoid tiger form, its muscles rippling like coiled steel under striped fur, lunged. The creature was a blur of orange and black, claws swiping at Jake's throat. Jake caught the beast's wrists, the impact sending a shockwave through his boots that cracked the pavement beneath them.
"Down, kitty!" Jake roared, his voice a guttural draconic rasp. He pivoted, using his momentum to hurl the massive cat into a parked luxury sedan, the metal folding like paper upon impact.
But the reprieve was short-lived. The shadow demons swarmed him, their cold, ethereal bodies clinging to his scales like leeches. Jake took flight, his powerful wings snapping open with a sound like a thunderclap. He ascended twenty feet, rolling mid-air to shake off the demons, and unleashed a concentrated torrent of dragon fire. The white-hot flames incinerated the shadows, turning them to ash, but for every dozen he destroyed, twenty more crawled out of the darkness.
Meanwhile, Lao Shi and Etrigan the Demon fought back-to-back. Etrigan was a whirlwind of rhythmic violence, his hellfire-enchanted blade shearing through shadow-flesh with terrifying efficiency.
"The witch-boy's toys are thin and frail,
Against my steel, they shall not prevail!" the demon bellowed, punctuating his rhyme by decapitating three demons in a single, fluid arc.
Lao Shi, the Dragon Master, moved with the grace of a man half his age. His hands traced intricate patterns in the air, manifesting shields of golden flames to deflect Klarion's red magical lightning.
"You're getting sloppy, Klarion!" Lao Shi taunted, though sweat beaded on his brow.
"Sloppy? I'm just bored!" Klarion shrieked, his eyes wide and manic. With a flick of his wrist, he intensified the storm. Bolts and bolts of jagged red energy rained from the sky. One struck Etrigan square in the chest, sending the demon skidding across the street. Another caught Lao Shi off-guard, shattering his barrier and throwing him into a brick wall.
Klarion descended like a predatory bird, his fingers crackling with energy as he hovered over the fallen Dragon Master. "The Orb. Where is it? Give me the damn Orb!".
Lao Shi looked up, blood trickling from a cut on his nose and forehead. He grinned, teeth stained red, and slowly raised his middle finger.
The Witch Boy's face contorted in rage. "Fine. Let's see how much shock your old heart can take!" He unleashed a continuous stream of magical electricity, the air smelling of ozone and burning skin.
From high above, Jake saw his grandfather collapsing under the torture. The sight shattered his restraint. A primal, ancient heat surged from the core of his being, drowning out the human part of his mind.
"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Jake roared.
The transformation was violent. Jake's bones lengthened and thickened with a series of wet, heavy cracks. His red scales hardened into armor-plated shingles, and his wingspan doubled. Within seconds, a seven-meter-long Western Dragon stood where the boy had been. He let out a roar so profound it shattered the windows of every building within three blocks and caused the very earth of Gotham to tremble.
The shadow demons froze, their instinctual fear of the apex predator overriding Klarion's command. Jake didn't give them a chance to recover. He took a deep breath, his chest glowing like a furnace, and exhaled a sea of dragon fire that swept across the district. Teekl, sensing the impending doom, tried to leap away, but Klarion hurriedly snapped his fingers, teleporting the cat to his side just as the flames turned the intersection into a kiln.
Jake turned his slitted, glowing eyes toward Klarion. The dragon moved with surprising speed for his size, his massive tail swinging like a wrecking ball. Klarion threw up a shimmering red shield, but the raw physical power behind the strike sent him hurtling through the facade of a nearby building.
As the dust settled, a familiar roar filled the sky—not of a dragon, but of jet engines. The Bat-plane banked sharply over the district, firing a series of specialized canisters. They didn't explode; instead, they emitted a high-frequency sonic pulse designed to disrupt magical resonance.
"Etrigan, move!" Batman's voice boomed over the plane's external speakers.
The hatch of the Bat-plane opened, and a figure draped in a tuxedo and top hat stepped out into the open air. Zatanna didn't fall; she drifted down on a platform of invisible energy.
"Tlah eht ssenkrad! (Halt the darkness!)" she chanted, her voice clear even over the roar of the fires.
The remaining shadow demons dissolved instantly, turned back into harmless puddles of ink. The dark clouds from the sky and the shadowy darkness around the district swept away.
Klarion burst his way out of the ruins, his clothes tattered and his hair standing on end. He looked at the dragon, the demon, the magician, and the Bat-plane circling overhead. The frustration on his face was palpable, a childish tantrum magnified by god-like power.
"It's not fair!" he screamed, his voice cracking. "I just wanted my toy! You always ruin everything!"
He raised his hands, and the air around him began to warp and distort. The raw dark energy he began to channel was so intense it started to pull debris toward him like a localized black hole.
"Jake, stay back!" Lao Shi warned, leaning on Etrigan for support. "He's going to vent!"
The dragon Jake lowered his head, his throat glowing a dangerous, brilliant gold. He wasn't backing down. Beside him, Zatanna began a complex counter-spell, her hands moving in a blur, while Batman prepared the Bat-plane's heavy ordinance.
The battle in the Diamond District was far from over; it was merely entering its final, most destructive act.