Shadow Monarch in DC

The Chaos World -

Arthur Blackwynd, the Shadow Monarch look like a man who had conquered this world, but what he just did was deliver the eternal rest it deserved for so long. Shadow armor wrapped around him and it was not simply wornn it was bound to him, an extension of his presence, the faint edges of it bled into the air around him, dissolving and reforming in slow, controlled currents of darkness. His ashen white hair had grown longer over time, now falling freely, stirred by a wind that did not exist, and his eyes burned with a steady violet glow.

Behind him, the remnants of an annihilated existence stretched endlessly.

Before him, nothing remained.

"My liege," Bellion’s voice carried forward, calm and unwavering, he stepped forward just enough to be acknowledged by his Monarch "The task has been completed in full. There are no surviving remnants. No hidden forces remain in this world."

There was no pride in his tone, no unnecessary emphasis.

A brief pause followed before he added, with the same composure, "This world will not see blood again."

Arthur’s gaze remained fixed on the horizon, and for a moment, it almost seemed as though he might speak to the world itself rather than the one who addressed him.

Then, slowly, he exhaled.

"Good work," He shifted his stance slightly, the shadows along his armor rippling in response,

"This place was... more persistent than expected," he said, his voice calm, "A world this large doesn’t die easily, even when it’s already halfway there it seems."

His eyes narrowed slightly, the violet glow sharpening just a fraction.

"Especially when something is helping it."

"Some of them were hidden well," Arthur continued, his gaze settling over his Marshals one by one. "Buried beneath layers of concealment magic that didn’t belong to them."

A faint pause followed, and though his expression did not change, his voice turned colder.

"Yogumunt’s work."

"With his magic, it was a bit troublesome," Arthur went on, "But it didn’t matter in the end,"

There was no arrogance in the statement. "We found them anyway."

Arthur’s shoulders eased just slightly, the tension of a year-long hunt finally releasing in a subtle, nearly imperceptible shift.

"We are done," he said, "we’ve stayed here long enough."

He lifted his gaze, not toward the horizon this time, but beyond it,

"The dimensional crack is next."

There was no hesitation in the statement, he knew what waited there.

Knew what kind of reception they would receive.

A faint smile touched his lips,

"They won’t be pleased to see us."

Now he turned fully to his Marshals, the faint glow of his eyes meeting theirs,

"I assume none of you find that particularly discouraging."

It was a statement that expected only one kind of answer.

And it came.

"Of course not, my king."

The response rose in unison, steady and absolute, without hesitation or doubt.

Galatea stepped forward slightly, her posture relaxed in a way that would have seemed careless if not for the power she can display. She tilted her head, a faint, unimpressed smile forming as she glanced over the empty wasteland behind them.

"For all their supposed power," she said, her tone filled with amusement, "they’ve done an excellent job of staying out of sight."

Her eyes flickered back to Arthur.

"A year of dismantling their scattered forces here, and not one of them bothered to show up."

Beru shifted beside her, his form lowering just slightly, a quiet, irritated sound slipping from him.

"Cowards," he muttered in disdain.

"They’re neither absent nor careless," Arthur said calmly. "They’re waiting for us with their actual armies."

"This," he continued, gesturing faintly to the endless ruins of the world they had spent a year erasing, "was never meant to be defended directly."

His gaze sharpened again, becoming thoughtful now.

"It was a fragment. A scattered extension of their strength, left behind for a purpose, most likely to test our combat prowess."

"And now that scattered piece of strength is gone."

There was no triumph in his voice, only acknowledgment of what that meant.

"They know that."

Arthur stepped closer, the shadows at his feet shifting with him, "And when we step into that crack," he went on, his tone lowering just slightly, "they won’t ignore us anymore."

His eyes met theirs again, steady, unyielding.

"They’ll will attack us in full power, and they won’t fight us alone like the Monarch of Iron Body."

The reality of what awaited the Shadow Legion becoming clearer without needing to be overstated.

Arthur’s gaze moved across each of his Marshals, ensuring they understood.

"For example, if I’m occupied," he said, "they’ll take advantage of it and target my strongest soldiers."

"That’s how they fight, so don’t expect a noble fight with the likes of them."

A brief silence followed before he spoke again,

"You shouldn’t engage them alone, if you are encountered by a Monarch you must move in pairs. Always."

"You need to remember that a Monarch can kill you if you give them the opening, for good. And I don’t intend to give them that kind of victory by losing my best soldiers."

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then, almost as one, his Marshals inclined their heads in understanding.

Arthur watched them for a second longer before turning away once more, his gaze lifting toward the sky and the shadows around him became restless.

"...Let’s move," he said quietly.

**

THE DIMENSIONAL CRACK -

The Monarchs gathered once again, four of them, they stood upon a suspended mass of blackened stone that hovered without anchor

"So we simply watched him take them all."

The voice came sharp, irritated. The speaker stood slightly removed from the others, their form shifting subtly, as though he struggled to maintain a consistent shape like a ghost.

"The Chaos World is gone," he continued, his gaze moving across the others with open dissatisfaction. "He claimed every last remnant of our armies there."

"And we did nothing, even my spells failed.."

Another Monarch shifted slightly, "We knew what he was doing," they added, "But we still let him grow stronger and for what?"

They all got silent, none of them could deny it.

Then, quietly someone else spoke "And what exactly would you have preferred?"

The Monarch who spoke stood at the center of the group, his presence markedly different from the others. There was a certain chill to him,

"That we intervene?" he continued, "That we step into a world already under his control and challenge him while he consolidates his strength?"

A slight tilt of his head followed, his gaze settling on the one who had spoken first.

"And risk the possibility that one of us does not return like the Monarch of Iron Body?"

The distorted Monarch’s form sharpened subtly in response, irritation written all over his face.

"He was occupied," he argued. "That was the moment to strike."

"You speak of risk, but we know what he has become, and yet we chose to stand aside while he added significant numbers to his army."

"That was an opportunity!"

"And a trap," the cold Monarch replied without hesitation.

The words landed cleanly, cutting through the argument before it could fully take shape.

"You continue to view him as an isolated target," he said, "As though his focus on that world made him vulnerable."

A subtle pause followed.

"He is never vulnerable in the way you are describing."

"You witnessed what became of the Monarch of Iron Body," he continued, his voice lowering just slightly, the chill around him deepening in response.

They all got silent, because there was nothing to add to that.

"I believe no one here wants to be another victim." the cold Monarch asked, their tone returning to its earlier calm.

His eyes moved between the others again, ensuring the point was understood.

"We lost nothing of significance.. And in return," he continued, "we avoided an unnecessary confrontation with a foe who has already proven capable of eliminating one of our own with ease."

The distorted Monarch’s form steadied slightly, that frustration fading, though not entirely gone.

"...You’re placing a great deal of faith in avoidance," they said.

"No," the cold Monarch replied evenly. "In timing.. you see, the Dragon Monarch’s directive was clear," he added, "We do not engage him recklessly, The Shadow Monarch is not a foe to be tested by being impulsive,"

"...So we wait," they said again,

"We proceed as planned," the cold Monarch confirmed.

"He will come here," they said.

"And when he does, it will not be to a battlefield he controls."

Then, slowly, the distorted Monarch inclined their head.

/-\

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