Judgment of the Endless (MarvelxDC)

The command center of the warship Sanctuary II was a dimly lit, oppressive chamber of blackened metal and jagged architecture, where the cold glow of holographic displays flickered like dying stars.

Seated at the heart of it all, upon a throne carved from the remnants of conquered worlds, was Thanos—the Mad Titan.

His massive form, adorned with golden armor, was tense with barely restrained impatience, his deep-set eyes fixed on the projection of the Earth below.

Across from him, standing amidst the shifting shadows, was Darkseid. Unlike Thanos, the Lord of Apokolips exuded no visible frustration—only the unwavering, godlike patience of one who had seen countless civilizations crumble beneath his heel. His hands, clasped behind his back, were as motionless as stone.

His piercing red eyes glowed faintly, observing the battle unfolding across Earth with an air of detached inevitability.

The holograms surrounding them displayed various battlefields across the planet. Cities were burning, the skies choked with smoke. The armies of Apokolips and Thanos' Chitauri forces were wreaking havoc. And yet…

Thanos exhaled sharply, his fingers gripping the armrests of his throne. "Not a single Infinity Stone has shown itself," he growled, his voice thick with irritation.

Darkseid did not turn to acknowledge Thanos immediately. His gaze remained on the largest display, which showed Wonder Woman obliterating his Parademons mid-air before flying toward New York. Only after several moments did he finally speak.

"Patience, Titan," Darkseid rumbled, his voice carrying the weight of eternity. "Desperation is unbecoming of a conqueror."

Thanos' expression darkened. "I have scoured the cosmos for these stones. I have reduced entire civilizations to dust in their pursuit. Now, we lay waste to Earth, and yet—nothing."

He leaned forward, his deep voice dripping with controlled fury. "Either they have been hidden, or they no longer exist."

"They exist," Darkseid replied coldly. "That much is certain." He turned his head slightly, fixing Thanos with a knowing gaze. "But unlike your simplistic pursuit of power, the Anti-Life Equation has always eluded me in ways beyond mortal understanding. Power—true power—does not simply reveal itself. It must be willed into submission."

Thanos' jaw tightened. He hated Darkseid's cryptic, condescending manner. He was a warlord who had reshaped reality with brute force and unbreakable will.

And yet, something about the way Darkseid carried himself—the unshakable confidence of an entity who had already won—made Thanos hesitate to lash out.

Darkseid stepped forward, his presence alone making the air seem heavier. "You search for the stones. I reclaim what was already mine." He raised a hand, and a booming signal echoed through the chamber.

A massive figure emerged from the darkness, his hulking form kneeling in submission before his master. Steppenwolf—the feared general of Apokolips.

His imposing armor gleamed in the dim light, and his grotesque, horned helmet only made his monstrous visage more imposing.

"My lord," Steppenwolf intoned, his deep voice reverberating through the chamber.

Darkseid's gaze did not waver. "The time has come. Retrieve the three Mother Boxes we left upon this world."

Steppenwolf's golden eyes flickered with a dark hunger. "At once, my lord."

Without another word, he rose to his full height, turned on his heel, and strode toward the warship's massive airlock. The doors groaned open, revealing the endless void of space—and the distant, war-ravaged Earth below.

Steppenwolf stepped forward, then plummeted.

The skies above Earth were already chaotic, streaked with fire and filled with the sounds of war. But for those living in the depths of the Atlantic Ocean, the coming of Steppenwolf was an omen of unspeakable dread.

He descended like a meteor, his armored body engulfed in red-hot flames as he pierced the atmosphere. The very air screamed as he cut through it, his velocity increasing, his target locked.

The ocean loomed closer.

Then, with an earth-shattering crash, Steppenwolf struck the sea.

The force of the impact sent cataclysmic shockwaves rippling outward. The ocean floor cracked. Colossal waves erupted in every direction, powerful enough to be felt as far as the African and South American coasts.

A monstrous column of water shot toward the sky, momentarily breaching the clouds before collapsing back down with titanic force.

The impact zone, located in a deep trench near one of Atlantis' outer cities, churned with violent undercurrents. The water boiled with residual energy, and from the heart of the devastation, he emerged.

Steppenwolf rose slowly, his armored form glowing with an eerie heat, steam hissing from his body.

His fiery eyes peered into the darkness, scanning the ocean floor with an almost predatory gaze.

Then, without hesitation, he began his march toward Atlantis.

-

-

Deep within the grand halls of Atlantis, the war room was alive with activity. Holographic displays projected the battlefield above, showing the chaos on the surface. Generals and strategists moved swiftly, coordinating their warriors.

The war was above them—until now.

The sudden seismic tremor that rocked the ocean sent immediate panic through the chamber. Water sloshed against the transparent domes encasing the room. The lights flickered, and then, piercing through the alarms, came the voice of a frantic soldier.

"Commander! A massive energy signature has entered the ocean near the outer cities!"

Mera, the Queen of Atlantis, stood at the center of the chamber, clad in resplendent emerald armor. Her piercing eyes narrowed. "Give me visuals," she commanded.

A flickering hologram materialized in the center of the war room. It showed a massive crater on the ocean floor, steam and debris clouding the surrounding waters.

The readings were off the charts—a level of power that rivaled some of their greatest threats.

"What in Poseidon's name was that?" murmured Nereus, Mera's father and one of Atlantis' most seasoned generals.

Another officer rushed forward. "We've confirmed movement—something is coming."

As if on cue, the mist within the hologram shifted—revealing a towering, armored figure marching toward Atlantis.

A chilling silence fell over the room.

Mera's stomach twisted. She recognized the armor. She had seen nightmare visions of this figure in the ancient Atlantean archives.

"Steppenwolf," she breathed, her fingers curling into fists.

Vulko, Atlantis' chief advisor, stepped forward, his normally calm face tense. "If he's here… then this is no mere invasion. Darkseid is making his move."

Mera turned sharply to the nearest commander. "Mobilize the Royal Guard. Alert the outer cities. I want a full battalion ready to intercept him before he gets anywhere near Atlantis."

The alarm bells rang like a call to war, reverberating through the grand halls of Atlantis and beyond. Across the vast undersea kingdoms, the sovereigns of the deep heard the call—an ancient signal that had not been used in centuries.

Mera, standing at the heart of the Atlantean War Room, turned toward the nearest communication officer. "Open the deep channels," she commanded, her voice firm despite the tension in her chest.

"Send an urgent summon to the other kings. We face a threat unlike any we have seen before."

The officer nodded, activating a series of complex glyphs. Within moments, the summons had been sent.

Far across the ocean, in the remote volcanic citadels of the Kingdom of the Brine, King Ry'Korr, the monstrous, crustacean-like ruler, roared his approval as he slammed a colossal claw against his throne. "A battle worth fighting! We will answer!"

From the dark abyssal trenches, the brooding King Kadaver, ruler of the Lost Kingdom of the Deserters, gazed into the swirling currents of his domain.

He had long forsaken Atlantean rule, but this—this was a foe even he could not ignore. "Prepare my forces," he ordered his generals. "We march to war."

The proud and regal King Nereus, ruler of Xebel, wasted no time assembling his elite warriors, the Tideborn Legion. As a rival to Atlantis, he had no love for their throne, but his loyalty to the sea itself was unwavering.

"For the ocean, we shall fight."

The mighty undersea Leviathans, colossal beings from the great depths, stirred in their slumber, feeling the disturbance in the waters.

And then, like titanic shadows moving through the deep, the Kings of the Ocean converged upon Atlantis.

The ocean raged with activity as massive sea creatures, war-trained cavalry mounted on armored sharks, and battalions of elite Atlantean warriors assembled outside the grand domes of Atlantis.

The grand armies of the sea had united, forming a colossal wall of power before the invading force.

At the forefront stood Mera, her emerald battle armor shimmering with latent energy. Beside her, Nereus, Ry'Korr, and Kadaver each brandished their legendary weapons.

Then the ocean shifted.

From the distant gloom of the deep, Steppenwolf emerged.

His hulking form strode with terrifying confidence, his massive axe glowing with a red, infernal light. The Parademons that had followed him swarmed in chaotic patterns, their soulless eyes glowing menacingly.

He came to a stop, his golden eyes surveying the gathered might of the ocean's kings. Then he smirked.

"I see the ocean still fancies itself an empire," he said, voice thick with mockery. "Proud monarchs of the deep, bow before me now, and I shall grant you the honor of serving in Darkseid's new order."

Mera's grip tightened around her trident. "You are not welcome here, butcher."

Steppenwolf tilted his head, amused. "Your people fell to us once before. And I see no reason why this time will be any different."

With a roar, King Ry'Korr charged forward first, his monstrous claw raised high. "FOR THE BRINE!"

The ocean exploded into chaos.

The battle was an immediate clash of titanic forces.

Ry'Korr slammed his massive claw down at Steppenwolf, the impact sending shockwaves through the water. The general of Apokolips barely moved as the attack struck his armor—then he grinned.

With a single, brutal swing of his axe, he cleaved through Ry'Korr's armored claw, sending chunks of the Brine King's exoskeleton spiraling into the water.

The massive king howled in pain as Steppenwolf seized him by the throat and, with monstrous strength, hurled him into the distant ruins, toppling an ancient Atlantean temple in the process.

From behind, Kadaver struck, wielding an abyss-forged spear that could pierce through the hardest of scales. His weapon found purchase, stabbing into Steppenwolf's side, but the warlord merely turned his head, unimpressed.

"Fool."

In a blur of movement, Steppenwolf grabbed Kadaver's spear mid-strike, yanked him forward, and drove his knee into the Deserter King's gut with enough force to break bone.

The dark king coughed out a cloud of blood, doubling over in agony before Steppenwolf backhanded him across the face, sending him crumpling to the seabed.

From above, Nereus led the Tideborn Legion, his warriors launching powerful hydromantic spears toward the invader.

Steppenwolf lifted his axe, and with a single slash, a crimson shockwave obliterated dozens of soldiers in an instant, sending their bodies spiraling into the deep like drifting corpses.

Mera unleashed a colossal tidal force, the waters bending to her will as she attempted to crush Steppenwolf in a massive sphere of pressurized ocean.

For a brief moment, the warlord was engulfed—but then, with sheer brute strength, he shattered the water prison, sending razor-sharp water blasts cutting through nearby warriors.

He turned toward Mera, golden eyes gleaming. "Impressive," he admitted. "But not enough."

Then he vanished in a burst of speed—and before Mera could react, he was upon her.

The impact of his axe against her trident sent a deafening shockwave through the ocean. Mera gritted her teeth, pushing back with all her might, but Steppenwolf was simply too strong.

His strength overwhelmed her, and with a powerful kick, he sent her crashing through a coral fortress, shattering stone and rock as she disappeared into the rubble.

With their monarchs crippled or dying, the remaining armies began to falter. The Parademons, seeing weakness, descended upon them like ravenous sharks, their claws raking through Atlantean flesh.

It was no longer a battle.

It was a slaughter.

With the battlefield littered with the wounded and the dead, Steppenwolf strode toward the grand vault—the ancient Atlantean stronghold where one of the three Mother Boxes had been kept for thousands of years.

The massive doors, reinforced with enchanted steel, stood in his path. He lifted his axe, energy crackling along its edge, and brought it down with monstrous force.

BOOM.

The doors ruptured, fragments of Atlantean metal scattering like dust.

Inside, resting atop an ancient pedestal, was the Mother Box—humming with eerie, cosmic energy.

Steppenwolf stepped forward, his hand outstretched.

The moment his fingers touched the surface, the box came alive, its surface pulsing, recognizing him—a servant of its true master.

Then, with a single motion, Steppenwolf lifted it into the air, feeling the raw power coursing through his veins.

He turned, stepping over the bodies of fallen Atlantean warriors, and let out a victorious laugh.

"The first piece falls into place," he murmured. "And soon… the others shall follow."

Far above, through the murky waters, the red eyes of Darkseid watched—and he smiled.

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