Shadow Monarch in DC

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Arthur sat back on the couch, a comfortable silence surrounding him as he relaxed in his dimly lit living room. The glow of his system interface was the only light as he stared at his stats, allocating his hard-earned ability points with ease.

"Damn," he muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I feel more powerful than ever." His fingers flicked through the menus effortlessly, adding points to his strength and intelligence, feeling the surge of power course through him with every allocation. "I've been pushing myself, but it feels like I could take on anything now."

[Name : Arthur Blackwynd

Job : Soulwarden

Title : Bane of the Unworthy (+20% attack against those who harbor evil intent)

Level : 40

Fatigue : 0

HP :3800 MP :4700

Strength : 45>100

Health : 27>84

Agility : 20>50

Intillegence : 22>100

Sense : 20>50

Available abbility points : 90>0

Passive skill : Tenacity Level 1

Job specific skill : Shadow Extraction

Skills : Bloodlust level 1]

He leaned back, stretching as the weight of his recent battles still clung to his body. His muscles were sore, but it was a satisfying kind of pain the kind that comes from pushing beyond limits. The tower… the battles… they all seemed like nothing now.

Arthur's gaze drifted to the window, the view of Jump City sprawled out before him. A sudden, thought-provoking chill ran down his spine. He couldn't shake the feeling that the tower still had more to offer, more to throw at him. "I should head back to that tower, finish what I started. But…"

His voice trailed off, the thought of the Joker still gnawing at his mind. A grimace twisted his face as he recalled the madman's chaotic presence, the twisted games he had played, and the danger he posed.

"Seriously, Joker?" Arthur let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "What the hell's in level 50, Darkseid? Do I get to fight gods next?" His tone dripped with sarcasm, but the unease underneath his words was unmistakable.

He knew better than to underestimate whatever lay ahead. Even though his power had grown exponentially, there were forces in this world or in the tower that could rival or even surpass his own. He just had to be ready for them.

"I'll deal with whatever comes next. Bring it on," he muttered, before standing up, his body flexing with newfound strength. His hand instinctively went to his sword, the Greatsword of the Lowborn, hanging on the wall nearby.

Arthur sat in his living room, idly flipping through his phone. The peaceful silence was welcome after the chaos of the Tower. The weight of his thoughts pressed down on him, but it was a comfort compared to the battles he'd been facing. He wasn't sure what to expect next, but it was a welcome reprieve.

Suddenly, a chill in the air made his senses snap to attention. Something was off—something he couldn't quite put his finger on, but the atmosphere shifted. He felt a presence behind him, darker and familiar.

He didn't even turn around; he didn't need to. His voice was steady, even though his mind raced. "So... it's you, huh?"

From behind him, a soft voice rang out, cool and collected. "It's been a while. Guess you're finally home."

Arthur turned to see her: Raven, standing at the threshold of his living room, her dark cloak swaying as she slowly lifted her hood. Her violet eyes locked onto his with an intensity that immediately reminded him why he had been avoiding her in the first place. He raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

"You've been stalking me, haven't you?" he asked, crossing his arms.

Raven didn't seem bothered by his accusation. Instead, she let out a quiet, almost amused sigh. "I did. And I sense that the power inside you... it's even stronger now."

Arthur's smirk faded as he sighed, rubbing his temples. "I know, Raven. I've been training. I get it."

But Raven wasn't finished. Her voice, quieter now, held an undercurrent of curiosity. "You... you killed a thug not long ago, didn't you?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed. The mention of the event stirred something inside of him—something dangerous, something that kept him from fully embracing the mantle of a 'hero'. "I did. But that's not the point, Raven. I don't want to be a part of your crusade. I don't want to be the 'good guy'. My sense of justice is... not ideal." He looked at her with a mixture of frustration and resolve, hoping she'd understand.

Before he could finish, Raven stepped forward, her expression unreadable, though something about her tone softened. "I don't care about that," she said, her voice firm, but not unkind. "It took me years to learn how to control my abilities and emotions... years of solitude, pain, and struggle." She paused, then added, "But I've learned, and I know what you're capable of. You could help people—more than just your own personal goals."

Arthur was still unconvinced. He started walking toward his Greatsword, resting against the wall near the window. As his hand hovered over the hilt, he looked back at her, turning his body halfway. "Why are you here, exactly? I'm sure you're not here to debate morals with me."

Raven hesitated for a moment, then her lips curved into a rare, small smile—more genuine than any smile Arthur had seen from her before. "That's true. I still want you to join us. I know where you could put your abilities to good use." She paused again, as if weighing her words carefully. "And for that, I've called in a... helper, someone I'm sure you'll appreciate."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the unexpected statement. "A helper? What are you talking about?"

Before Raven could elaborate, a sharp, almost arrogant voice broke in, cutting through the air between them like a blade.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the mysterious, brooding hero in the making." The voice was unmistakable, sarcastic, and laced with a certain rough charm. Arthur turned to find a man standing right behind him, his hand resting heavily on Arthur's shoulder. The man had an air of chaos about him, a presence that demanded attention even in the face of Arthur's growing irritation.

Arthur's brow furrowed. "Who the hell—"

The man grinned, his tousled hair framing his face, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His smile was wild, mischievous, almost too confident. "Constantine. John Constantine, at your service." He gave Arthur a once-over, then a knowing wink. "We're going on a trip."

Before Arthur could protest, Constantine placed a hand on his shoulder, the grip surprisingly strong, and without warning, the world around Arthur warped and twisted. The air crackled, and the next thing Arthur knew, his feet were no longer touching the ground.

"Wait what are you ?!" Arthur's voice was drowned out by the sudden onslaught of dizzying motion.

"Relax," Constantine said with a smirk, "I'm taking you to a nice place. Nothing too crazy... well, nothing too crazy for you, mate."

Arthur's vision swirled, and he tried to pull away, but the magic surrounding him was too strong. He had no choice but to let it happen. The man didn't even give him a chance to voice his rejection before the two of them disappeared, leaving Raven standing quietly behind them, her gaze unreadable.

Arthur didn't know where he was going but from the look in Constantine's eyes, he knew it wouldn't be good.

As they disappeared into the ether, Raven's quiet voice followed them. "Don't worry, Arthur! This is just for you to find your..."

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If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Solo leveling in Westeros. 

AND 

If you wish to read more or simply support me than check out my patreon at 

"https://www.patreon.com/FrenzyAren" 

You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want