Lois Lane sat tied to a chair at the center of the luxurious restaurant, now eerily quiet and transformed into a stage for madness. The fine décor stood in stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded. Her eyes burned with frustration as she glanced toward the man calmly sipping his drink beside her.
Ashborn Black, ever composed, didn't seem the least bit concerned about the gun-wielding maniacs around them. His posture was relaxed, still smiling.
"What are you playing at?" Lois hissed. "Seriously, what is this?"
Ashborn turned to her with a small smile. "Isn't it obvious?" He took another sip. "The hostage."
Lois's eye twitched. "You are enjoying this!"
She turned to the nearby Joker, calling out with a sarcastic tone. "Hey, can you atleast be a gentleman and give me the same treatment as the other hostage? You know, equal treatment and all that?"
But it wasn't the Joker who answered. Ashborn raised a hand in a mock-courteous gesture. "Ah, but you see, Ms. Lane, you are the damsel in distress. A little rough treatment is expected—adds to the drama. And let's be honest, your rebellious spirit doesn't exactly earn you sympathy points. Meanwhile, I'm just a humble businessman enjoying Mr. Joker's performance. We're not the same."
Lois stared at him, baffled. "You're insane."
The Joker, however, threw his head back and laughed. "I like this guy!"
Ashborn gave a slight bow, like an actor at the end of a scene, before returning to his upright, poised stance.
Lois gave up. There was no reasoning with him. She couldn't tell if Ashborn Black was a genius… or just a lunatic.
Meanwhile, Joker's goons continued their work, herding the other guests to the lower floor. Soon, the upper dining hall was left mostly empty, save for a few goons, Harley Quinn, the Joker, Ashborn, and the increasingly annoyed Lois.
Then, down below, it happened.
A blue blur zipped through the lower floor like lightning, striking fast and precise. One by one, the Joker's thugs were knocked out cold, left groaning or unconscious in moments. A voice—firm and familiar—echoed through the room.
"Get out of here! I'll handle the rest."
Superman had arrived.
The hostages didn't need to be told twice. They ran. Among them, Lex Luthor slipped away, his sly smile betraying that this was all still part of some deeper plan.
And Bruce Wayne, unnoticed in the shuffle, broke away from the crowd and disappeared into a side room—ready to return as someone else.
Back upstairs, Ashborn turned to the Joker, swirling his drink idly. "You should check on your goons."
The Joker's head tilted. "Why?"
"Because," Ashborn said, "Superman will start with them. Then he'll come here. That'll be your cue. The announcement for the show."
Joker stared at him, brows raised. Then he turned to Harley Quinn, who was already tapping on her earpiece.
"…Boys?" she called. "Report?"
No answer.
"…Terry? Jaws? Lenny?"
Nothing.
The Joker's expression slowly shifted from curiosity to manic delight. "Ohhh. Oh yes. The big scout is coming!"
With an excited grin, he yanked Lois Lane to her feet, wrapping one arm around her and pointing a gun to her head.
"All right, curtain's up!" he shouted. "Boys! Positions! The guest of honor is almost here!"
The remaining goons tensed, raising their weapons. Harley's smile faded, focus taking over. The room became a powder keg of anticipation.
Ashborn calmly stood on the side, drink still in hand, his smile unwavering as a goon pointed a gun to his head.
Soon, the grand double doors of the restaurant creaked open with a low groan, and a gust of wind signaled the arrival of Metropolis's champion. Superman floated inside, his red cape fluttering, his eyes immediately scanning the scene.
Lois Lane was being held at gunpoint by the Joker, and not far from her, Ashborn Black stood just as calmly—with a gun to his head as well. Yet unlike Lois, who showed signs of tension, Ashborn looked… relaxed. Too relaxed.
Superman's brow furrowed slightly at the sight, but now wasn't the time to think about that.
"Joker, you picked the wrong city. You should've stayed in Gotham," Superman said, voice firm and low.
The Joker cackled, completely unfazed. "Oh, but I needed a change of scenery, you know? And Metropolis? It just screams opportunity."
With a flourish, he grinned. "Now, I was just about to present your options, Supes. Two thrilling choices. First—"
But the Joker didn't finish.
A blue streak flashed across the room. In the blink of an eye, all of the Joker's goons were on the floor, groaning or unconscious. Harley Quinn included. Then with a sonic crack, the Joker himself was slammed into the ground, hard enough to crack the tile.
Superman landed with a solid thud, the tension in the room completely flipped. He approached Lois with a reassuring smile.
"Are you okay, Ms. Lane?"
Lois, still shaken but smiling faintly, gave him a familiar look. "My hero."
Behind them, the Joker staggered up, his green hair messy, his makeup smudged.
"Well that was rude," he whined, holding his ribs. "Is that how heroes behave these days? Interrupting people mid-monologue? No class, really."
Superman turned to face him, eyes stern and unwavering. "Metropolis isn't a place for your lunacy, Joker."
Joker put on a mock-hurt face. "Lunacy? That's a little harsh. I like to think of it as... creative disruption."
Then with a flourish, he pulled a dagger from inside his jacket and pointed it toward Superman. "The world needs more lunatics. Keeps things interesting."
Superman stepped forward without hesitation. It was a knife. A joke. There was nothing it could do to him.
But then—the Joker pressed his thumb on the handle.
The outer shell clattered to the floor, revealing a glowing, green blade—Kryptonite.
Superman stumbled back as the sickening wave of weakness swept through him. His knees buckled slightly. "K-Kryptonite…"
The Joker didn't wait.
With a manic cry of glee, he lunged forward and plunged the blade into Superman's abdomen.
"What's the matter, Boy Scout? Not feeling so super anymore?" the Joker howled with laughter as Superman collapsed, clutching his bleeding side, weakened and gasping.
Lois screamed, fear flashing across her face—for the first time tonight, she truly felt fear.
The Joker raised his blade, the tip aimed downward. "Now then…" he whispered, "where to stab you next? Heart? Spine? Somewhere poetic?"
But just as he was about to strike—
BANG.
The Joker screamed, spinning away and clutching his bleeding hand. The Kryptonite dagger clattered uselessly to the ground.
Both the Joker and Lois turned, eyes wide.
Ashborn Black stood where he had been the entire time, same relaxed posture, same polite smile, but now holding a pistol, still aimed forward.
He tilted his head slightly and spoke with the same soft tone.
"An unexpected turn of events," Ashborn said. "The drama you've been looking for, Mr. Joker… right?"
The Joker stared at him in disbelief, still clutching his ruined hand, while Lois blinked, stunned. Superman, barely conscious, looked up at Ashborn as if trying to understand what just happened.
Ashborn simply smiled and swirled the drink in his other hand. The restaurant was eerily silent, save for the shallow breathing of a wounded Superman and the distant sirens approaching outside.
Ashborn lowered his smoking pistol slightly, still standing with unnerving composure. He looked at the Joker, who was writhing in pain and clutching his bleeding hand.
With the same polite smile etched across his face, Ashborn tilted his head.
"What do you think of my performance?"
The Joker, despite his bloodied form and fractured body, let out a dry, wheezing laugh.
"Pretty good… But you ruined the ending."
Ashborn's smile widened just a bit.
"I gave it a surprising twist." He lifted his glass in mock cheer. "The hostage... is the last one standing."
The Joker was still chuckling when he shifted his weight ever so slightly, trying to reach for something. But Ashborn didn't wait.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Three shots echoed in rapid succession.
One slammed into the Joker's shoulder, the other two buried into his legs. The madman collapsed fully, his laughter choking into a sharp cry of agony.
Ashborn didn't blink. He exhaled softly.
"Another twist would make the moment boring."
Across the room, a groggy Harley Quinn stirred. When she saw the Joker down, her voice rose in a shriek.
"Puddin'!!"
Her eyes flared with wild rage as she stumbled up and charged at Ashborn, teeth bared.
Ashborn didn't flinch. He simply waited.
When Harley got close enough—BANG.
The bullet struck her thigh, sending her tumbling forward with a pained yelp. She hit the ground hard, arms scrambling.
She tried to rise, but—
BANG.
A clean shot to her shoulder knocked her flat again, a pained scream escaping her lips as she collapsed, twitching.
Ashborn lowered his weapon once more, exhaled softly through his nose, and resumed his casual stance, as if nothing extraordinary had happened.
The smoke from the gun curled upward in lazy spirals.
Superman, still weak but conscious, looked at Ashborn with visible confusion and a tinge of awe. Lois, on the other hand, simply stared at Ashborn in a stunned silence, trying to decide if he was the hero of the night.
Ashborn glanced at them both, his voice smooth as ever.
"Shall we call that curtain closed?"