After pursuing an interdimensional anomaly detected in a remote village, Jon and Damian encounter a villainous figure. In a brief fit of anger, she grants Damian his deepest wish, but neither seems affected or so they believe.
The truck came to a stop in front of a crooked sign that read, “Welcome to Pine Hollow.” The letters were half-faded, and someone had spray-painted underneath: “We’re not.”
—Nice place —Jon muttered, looking out the window—. It has the same energy as an old toaster.
—Focus —Damian replied, shutting down the portable Batcomputer communicator—. Father said the energy readings were unstable.
—Your father also says they’re unstable when there are fireworks.
—And he’s almost always right —Damian shot back, stepping out of the truck with that “I’m the only adult here” seriousness.
The air smelled like damp earth and gasoline. There were no signs of life beyond the hum of an electrical pole and a cat that looked at them like, “you’re not from here.”
Jon stretched his neck. —What do you think happened this time? A dimensional rift? A Lex experiment? A superpowered cat?
—Don’t make absurd assumptions —Damian replied, though his eyebrow twitched, very slightly.
—Absurd? Dude, we’re in a town where chickens probably pay taxes.
Before Damian could answer, something glowed in the middle of the street: a white, flickering light, like a lightning bolt trapped in slow motion. The air trembled, and with a dry pop, someone fell flat on their back onto the pavement.
—Ow, my phone! —a female voice was heard.
Jon and Damian looked at each other. Jon smiled. Damian sighed.
The girl on the ground lifted her head: her hair was shoulder-length, her glasses slightly crooked, and she held her phone like it was a sacred artifact. She wore normal clothes—too normal—to be in the middle of an interdimensional mission.
—What… is this? —she stammered, looking around—. No, no, no, no. This wasn’t in my story… I was just testing the writing spell, and now… —she looked up, and her eyes locked onto the two heroes in front of her—. Wait. Why are there two guys dressed like they’re going to a superhero convention?
Jon let out a small laugh. —Technically, we are.
—What? Superheroes? Really? Oh, great! —she replied, sarcastic—. What’s next, a billionaire bat and an alien boy scout?
Damian looked at her with absolute coldness.
—I don’t see anything funny about this.
—I do —Jon said, crossing his arms with a smile—. That’s literally the description of our parents.
She looked at them, sighed, and checked her phone.
—No signal. Great. And my notes app says “textual materialization detected.”
—She paused—. You wouldn’t understand that, right?
—Let’s just say… what I write… sometimes comes to life. But it shouldn’t have crossed dimensions. I mean, that wasn’t in the contract.
Damian stepped forward. —Name?
—Uh… let’s say… the confused writer?
—You don’t look trustworthy either —she shot back with a half-smile—. You look like an angry cat with a Napoleon complex.
Jon nearly choked holding back laughter. Damian shot him a glare.
—Superboy, if you dare laugh…
The girl looked at them with a raised eyebrow. —So… is this normal for you?
—More than it should be —Jon replied, smiling.
And right at that moment, the sky above Pine Hollow began to fracture like shattered glass.
Damian frowned. —Tell me that has nothing to do with your… “notes.”
She swallowed. —Uh… depends. Is it a cosmic hole with glow and mechanical keyboard sounds?
Jon stared at her. —What the hell were you writing?
—Just… a story with a couple of attractive guys.
The silence that followed was so awkward that not even the pole cat dared to meow.
The sky kept trembling, and the air filled with a strange sound, like someone typing from the clouds.
—Tell me that’s not normal on this planet —the girl said, eyes wide.
—Depends —Jon replied—. Why does it sound like the sky is updating its operating system?
Damian just frowned. —Explain yourself. What exactly did you do?
She raised her hands. —Nothing. I mean, almost nothing. Maybe I wrote “what if I try to add emotion to the scene?” and now the universe decided drama was the same as apocalypse.
The wind blew hard, lifting dust and leaves. A glowing crack slithered through the air like a scar of light.
—Perfect —Damian muttered—. A dimensional failure caused by an irresponsible writer.
—Hey! I’m not irresponsible —she snapped, crossing her arms—. I just like experimenting.
—There are corpses that were also part of your “experiment” —Damian said in that signature Wayne cold tone.
Jon looked at him, incredulous. —Could you try not to sound like my dad when he talks to reporters?
She sighed, looking at her phone. —Great. I’m trapped in a comic with a morality complex.
And that’s when Damian, unable to hold back, said:
—At least you could try to act like someone useful.
—Useful? —she repeated, raising an eyebrow—. I was just trying to write a nice story about two people who love each other despite how different they are, but everything got ruined when I tried to add drama —she yelled.
—If that’s the case, then explain how you ended up in our world —Jon asked.
—Maybe— —the girl clutched her jacket tightly—. the story was about two heroes and the universe sent me here.
The air grew heavy. None of them wanted to dig further, because they felt they’d regret it. The phone screen glowed with a reddish light.
—Tsk, in conclusion you don’t even know how you got here or how to leave. That’s very helpful —Damian said sarcastically, removing his mask.
—It doesn’t matter, she’s so dumb I doubt she’d even dare expose me —the dark-haired boy sighed.
—You know what, junior millionaire cat? —she said with a very calm smile, the kind that’s actually scary—. Let’s see if this teaches you some humility.
She began typing quickly. The keyboard sounded like falling rain.
Jon stepped forward. —Wait, what are you doing?
—Nothing serious —she replied, sarcastic—. Just… “grant Damian Wayne’s deepest desire.”
A hum vibrated through the air. Everything paused for a moment, as if the world was holding its breath.
The sky stopped fracturing. The wind ceased.
And then, simply, silence.
—Was that it? —Jon asked, looking around.
—Seems like it —Damian replied, adjusting his cape—. I don’t notice any difference.
—Me neither —she said, biting her lip—. Maybe it didn’t work. Or maybe it did and it hasn’t activated yet… I don’t know, I’ve never tried it with sarcasm.
Jon raised an eyebrow. —Does that… happen to you often?
—Define “often” —she replied.
The portal began to close slowly, swallowing the remaining light. Damian watched it for a few seconds before speaking:
—If you can really alter reality, you could stabilize it.
—I can try —she replied, exhaling deeply. She opened her notes app and wrote something brief: “Close narrative cycle without erasing me from the plane of existence.”
The air vibrated again. A surge of energy wrapped around them. Jon grabbed Damian’s arm as the light covered them.
When it faded, only the town remained, quiet and empty. No trace of the supposed villain. Just the phone, lying on the pavement, its screen displaying one last line:
“Well, at least one of you got what they wanted… even if they don’t know it yet ;)”
Jon read it, blinking. —What is that supposed to mean?
Damian shrugged. —Nothing relevant, most likely.
But as they walked back toward the truck, something in the air still felt different.
As if the universe, silently, had decided to rewrite a page.
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