Chapter 353: Crisis In Gotham (Part 8)
Apeiro’s voice reached Arias like a memory. Quiet. Familiar. Not quite sound. Not quite thought.
He smiled.
"Many things."
Suddenly, the room began to give way.
The lights warped at the edges. The walls peeled like wet film. The floor lost texture. His chair lifted slightly—floating, not falling—untethered from the space around it.
Arias didn’t move.
Shapes spun across the black forming around him—limbs, faces, fragments of places that weren’t here. They twisted, broke, disappeared. Screams without mouths. Light without source. Meaning without context.
Soon though, it slowed. It was a mindscape.
The chaos around him softened, drawn inward by his stillness. Lines began to form. Angles. Structures. As if the scape, like a wild animal, recognized it had been seen.
And then it changed.
———
A battlefield.