In a shattered, post-apocalyptic world where the sky bled rust-red and the ground was scarred by craters older than memory, a rhythmic scrape echoed across the desolation: metal grinding against stone, slow and deliberate, like a funeral march.
Far off, through the haze of ash and heat shimmer, a trio of figures emerged from the ruins. Leading them was a towering woman—easily eight feet tall—her skin a deep, electric blue that seemed to drink in the dying light. Crimson tattoos spiraled across her arms, chest, and thighs like veins of molten lava, accentuating a body that was equal parts lethal grace and raw power: broad shoulders, sculpted muscles that flexed with every step, and curves that spoke of both seduction and destruction. She moved with the confidence of someone who had never known defeat.
Beside her strode a more brutish figure—shorter but denser, built like a siege engine. His skin was a mottled gray-blue, one massive arm replaced by something grotesque: a biomechanical limb of jagged black metal and pulsing red veins, ending in claws that dripped viscous fluid. His face was hidden beneath a hood of tattered cloth, but the way he carried himself screamed predator.
Pulling up the rear was a smaller man—stocky, bearded in thick brown curls that reached his chest, one eye covered by a scarred leather patch. He dragged a massive steel cart behind him, not on wheels but on runners forged from scrap. The cart groaned under its load: weapons, chains, strange glowing artifacts. Every scrape of metal on rock announced their approach.
Who were they? Survivors? Conquerors? Something worse?
To understand, we must step back—months earlier, before the world ended again.
---
Jin's small, dimly lit apartment felt almost… domestic. Almost normal.
He sprawled on the worn couch like a man who'd been hit by a truck and decided to stay down. A thin line of drool escaped the corner of his mouth, pooling on the cushion. In the same room, on the narrow bed pushed against the wall, Ace slept peacefully—curled into a tiny ball, breathing soft and even, looking every bit the innocent child she rarely got to be.
"Hm…" Jin stirred, cracking his back with a series of satisfying pops that echoed in the quiet night. He sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and glanced at the bed. For the first time in years—maybe ever—someone who wasn't Beta or a temporary ally was sharing his space. Not a lover. Not a teammate. A daughter.
"Good morning, Mister Parker," Beta's voice chimed softly from the corner speaker, polite as always.
Jin grunted in reply, shuffling to the window. Outside, Gotham's perpetual night pressed against the glass—streetlights flickering like dying stars. "I want my bed back…" he muttered groggily, eyes lingering on Ace. The thought flickered—push her out, reclaim the mattress—but he crushed it. No. He was a father now. Not like Duff Smith with his absentee bullshit, not like Whitebeard with his grand pirate family drama, and definitely not like Rick Sanchez with his multiversal chaos. A real father. The kind who stayed, even when she hated him for it.
"Okay… priority one: keep her from overloading and frying her own brain with those powers." He moved to the cluttered workbench, papers scattered like battlefield maps. One sketch showed a delicate tiara; another, a spiked heavy-metal choker with a giant crayon "NO" scrawled across it in Ace's angry handwriting. A third: a bracelet design, inspired by that one time Reed Richards had slapped a power-dampener on him during some interdimensional nonsense.
"God, this is gonna be annoying…" Jin sighed, lighting a cigarette with a flick of his lighter. He cracked the window, letting cool night air mix with smoke. The nicotine hit like an old friend. How long had he been in this universe? Two months? Four? Three? He'd stopped counting. But for once… he wasn't miserable. He had something resembling a family. He could skip heroics for a date, sleep in, maybe even pretend life wasn't a constant multiversal dumpster fire.
"Still feels like someone's watching me every damn day…" he muttered, unease crawling up his spine.
He spun suddenly—pure instinct—punching the empty air in the middle of the room.
Thud.
A solid impact. His fist met something invisible.
"We need to talk," a deep, gravelly voice said.
Jin exhaled smoke through his nose, retracting his fist slowly. "Batman."
The Dark Knight materialized from the shadows like he'd always been there. Cape pooling around him, eyes narrow slits behind the cowl.
"You know what you did four weeks ago."
"Self-defense."
"Murder."
"Extreme self-defense." Jin flicked the cigarette into the trash without looking. "You don't have your boyfriend to chase tonight?"
Bruce's eyes narrowed further. "Ace. Former associate of the gang that fought Superman. She comes with me, and—"
Pow.
Jin's fist cracked against Bruce's armored forearm—barely deflected. This time, Jin's eyes weren't dead or tired. They burned with something primal, dangerous.
"Don't. Touch. My. Daughter. Bruce."
Bruce straightened, assessing. "How do you—"
"I know every damn plan. Every weakness. Failsafes? Please. I'm worse than him." Venom dripped from the words. "And trust me, Waller would kill for the files you died to protect."
Bruce studied him for a long moment. "…What's your price?"
Jin smiled—sharp, superior. "A house outside the city. Gear for working with mediums. No bugs. No surveillance. Ever."
A beat.
"Deal. But she joins the junior league."
"Teen Titans? Justice League Young Guns? Whatever you're calling the kiddie squad these days?"
"Yes."
Jin exhaled. "Done."
Bruce turned, vanishing through the window as silently as he'd arrived.
---
The next morning, sunlight—rare in Gotham—filtered through the school gates. Ace, dressed in normal kid clothes for once (jeans, hoodie, sneakers), held Jin's hand tightly. He looked like he'd crawled out of a survival horror game: scarred jacket, stubble, eyes that had seen too much.
"Why do I have to go to school?"
"Because yes. And because I'm the dad."
"I'm a medium."
"And I'm a guy who jumped from a normal universe to comics to some weird animation-live-action-comic mashup. Suck it up—my argument's better." He smirked with paternal pride.
Ace gave him her signature deadpan stare.
BOOM.
A distant explosion rocked the street. Rubble lifted into the air, vibrating with unnatural energy.
"And there goes another Tuesday…" Jin muttered.
Ace raised a small hand. The debris froze mid-air, then dropped harmlessly.
"You're welcome," she said flatly.
Jin scooped her up in one arm. "Today you eat whatever you want, kid."
He started running—away from the school, away from safety, toward whatever chaos waited.
But something ancient stirred inside him. A tingle. Hairs on his arms standing straight.
Spider-Sense?
No. Worse.
In the distance, through the smoke and ruin, he saw her.
Double.
Watching. Silent. Obsessed. Red eyes glowing faintly.
"No…" Fear—real fear—clutched his chest.
Then a crimson bolt screamed from the sky.
It struck.
Jin and Ace vanished in a flash of vapor and light.
Death?
Or something higher. Something absolute.
---
Well, do we make Jin date Varang and Absolute Wonder Woman?
Yes.
No.