This story is inspired by DC's Absolute Universe.
"Absolute Lovers: Legacy"
This Earth is similar to the one we know, but darker—harsher and far more brutal. Jason Todd never returned from the dead, Ra's al Ghul treats Damian with ruthless cruelty, the Teen Titans' roster is entirely different, and Batman operates with uncompromising violence. The cause of this shift is Darkseid, whose oppressive presence hangs heavy over this universe.
Two imposing figures walked side by side through the stone hallways of Nanda Parbat, flanked closely by a teenager shrouded in a dark cloak. One was Ra's al Ghul, Master of Nanda Parbat; the other was Trigon, a towering, muscular man with long black hair and eyes that reflected death itself. His aura was suffocating—like a apex predator poised to strike. No one dared draw near, save for Ra's, who possessed the resolve to walk beside him. Shrouded beneath the cloak was Raven, a sixteen-year-old girl with raven-purple hair, intense blue eyes, and an unreadable face.
Trigon and Raven were in Nanda Parbat to inspect an old debt. Years prior, Talia had been unable to conceive, so Trigon lent his dark magic to assist her. In exchange, Ra's promised to construct a legion in his name. Now, Trigon had arrived to evaluate his investment.
“Sixteen years have passed since our bargain, Al Ghul. I trust you have made significant progress.”
“I assure you, Lord Trigon, the results will exceed your expectations. Would you care to test the new vanguard?”
“I would. That is why my daughter accompanies me—I wish to observe her lethality.”
“Then follow me, Lord Trigon.”
Ra's led them to the central arena. Five hybrid soldiers—part human, part cybernetic—entered the grounds. Three male, two female, each engineered purely for slaughter.
“Are you certain you wish to expose your daughter to such carnage?” Ra's asked.
Trigon chuckled darkly. “You should worry for your men, Al Ghul. You are about to lose five of your finest.”
“If they fall here, they were never fit to serve.”
Two hundred assassins ringed the gallery in absolute silence, watching intently. Raven stepped into the pit, her face remaining entirely void of emotion. As she entered, her gaze briefly landed on Talia al Ghul and the young boy standing beside her.
Trigon gestured forward, signaling Raven to engage.
Her eyes flared crimson as dark magic engulfed her cloak. Taking three deliberate steps forward, her appearance shifted dramatically: her dark cloak transformed into an armored red-and-purple hooded ensemble fitted with a corset, starkly contrasting her pale skin and crimson eyes. She looked regal and terrifying in equal measure, yet her expression remained entirely impassive.
The five cyborgs surrounded her, weapons drawn. Raven didn't flinch. As the heavy brass gong echoed across the courtyard, all five attackers lunged through the air simultaneously. Raven merely closed her fist. Mid-air, the five cybernetic warriors imploded, bursting like crushed metal cans. She lowered her hand without a word, treating their lives as utterly meaningless.
“Pathetic,” Trigon remarked to a stunned Ra's. “Though I cannot blame your craftsmanship; Raven’s power is absolute. That is why she is my favored child. Now, show me what your grandson can do.”
Ra's motioned for the arena floor to be cleared of debris for Damian’s trial.
In the center of the bloody sand stood a boy near Raven's age, wielding twin steel katanas. Trigon and Raven observed from the high balcony.
“Let us make this interesting,” Ra's commanded. “Bring out five modified warriors.
Five augmented soldiers rushed the arena. Before they could register their target, Damian moved in a blur of superhuman speed, severing their vitals in seconds. Even Trigon raised an eyebrow.
“Five more—infused with Bane’s Venom compound!” Ra's ordered.
The colossal soldiers charged, but Damian maneuvered around their brute strength, dismantling them with terrifying efficiency.
Raven’s eyes widened slightly.
“Now, unleash the Lazarus subjects,” Ra's declared.
Two warriors infused with distilled Lazarus waters stepped forward—beasts capable of regenerating from lethal strikes endlessly.
Damian struck them down repeatedly, but they kept rising. The battle devolved into a grueling war of attrition. The revived soldiers fought like unfeeling machines, but Damian matched them with lethal precision and sheer willpower. Mid-fight, a sweeping blade tore through Damian's tunic, exposing a torso covered in deep scars and fresh wounds.
Raven stared. For a fraction of a second, as he parried a strike, Damian’s emerald-green eyes locked onto hers. The connection stirred something unfamiliar inside her—an instinctual empathic pull. Through the Force of her abilities, she recognized a soul that carried the same weight of suffering as her own.
After nearly an hour of continuous combat, Damian systematically dismembered the subjects' limbs, rendering them unable to fight. Drenched in sweat and blood, he stood triumphant, exhausted but unbroken.
Ra's stepped onto the bloodstained floor with open arms. For a moment, Trigon and Raven assumed he intended to acknowledge his grandson's performance. Instead, upon reaching him, Ra's struck Damian across the face with enough force to knock him to the stone ground.
“Those test subjects were expensive, Damian. You know the price of inefficiency: two days in the labyrinth. Talia! Chain your son.”
Even Trigon quietly concluded that Ra's was a fool, blind to the true potential standing right in front of him.
Because Trigon opted to remain overnight to review the remaining unit schematics, Raven stayed in Nanda Parbat.
Late into the night, Raven tossed and turned on her bed, unable to clear her head of the boy. His speed, his endurance, his eyes—emerald green, filled with quiet defiance. It was a new sensation: empathy. Driven by a desire to understand it, she slipped silently into the compound’s subterranean maze.
Incapacitating the guard outside the cell, she pushed open the heavy wooden door. Damian hung chained by the wrists, shirtless, his back bearing fresh lash marks.
He raised his head, watching her silently.
Raven approached slowly, keeping her eyes fixed on his.
“Does it hurt?” she asked softly, reaching out to brush a finger gently near a wound on his chest.
“You are different from other humans,” she murmured.
That caught his attention. “How so?”
“You are neither fragile nor weak. I see absolute resolve in your eyes, and your body carries the history of a war. You are... fascinating.”
For the first time, Raven’s stoic expression gave way to genuine intrigue.
As her hand touched his jawline, Damian flinched slightly, pulling back.
“If you find me so fascinating, why not unchain me? I'll show you what I'm truly capable of.”
Raven was no fool—she recognized his intent immediately. Yet, curiosity won out. With a flick of her wrist, black magic shattered his bindings.
Damian rubbed his wrists. “Name's Damian, by the way.”
Free of his bonds, Damian gestured for her to follow. He retrieved his swords from the unconscious guard, gathered supplies and clothes from a neighboring chamber, and navigated directly toward the munitions depot where Ra's kept high-grade explosives.
“What are you doing?” Raven asked.
“Burying this place,” Damian replied.
Before she could stop him, Damian struck a match and dropped it into the powder line
He grabbed Raven, pulling her back seconds before the room detonated in a brilliant flare of fire and collapse.
Alarms blared across Nanda Parbat as the explosion blew out an entire structural wall, revealing a sheer thirty-meter drop down a cliffside toward a rushing river below.
Before Raven could process their situation, Damian seized her wrist and pulled her over the edge, plunging thirty meters down into the icy dark water below.
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