Chapter Text
Deep within the galaxy, in the void where time has no hold, there was a stone of immense power. But this wasn’t just any artifact—it was something far older, something sentient. It had existed before the stars began to burn, formed in the heart of a world at the brink of destruction. A collision of forces had given birth to it—a mix of creation and chaos.
Some believed the stone was a fragment of a god’s heart. Others thought it was a weapon forged in a war too vast for anyone to comprehend. Whatever its origin, the stone became its own being. It had no master and no name, though in whispers across the universe, it was called The Wanderer .
The Wanderer had a purpose. It sought out those whose desires ran deep—hearts that longed not for power or greed, but for healing, redemption, and connection. For countless ages, it drifted across the stars, listening for the wishes of warriors, kings, and heroes. It would appear to those in need, the cave it resided in shifting from planet to planet, always moving forward, always searching.
But there was a catch. The Wanderer didn’t understand the fine details of a wish. It granted what it heard, not what was meant. And sometimes, a stray thought or a fleeting desire could lead to dangerous consequences.
Heroes fascinated it the most. Their courage, their selflessness, their struggles—they were everything The Wanderer was drawn to. But its gifts? They came with a twist. It didn’t hold back or think about the aftereffects. The stone granted wishes with a single-minded certainty, leaving the hero to deal with whatever came next.
After eons of drifting through the galaxy, The Wanderer found something new—a signal, stronger than before, coming from a world it had passed by once before: Earth. But this time, the pull was different. There was a deep ache beneath the surface, a powerful longing. The heroes who protected this planet were unlike others it had encountered, their hearts filled with both power and vulnerability.
Curious, The Wanderer moved closer.
Earth’s protectors were intriguing—Superman, Wonder Woman, and others. The Wanderer could feel the depth of their desires, the ones they kept hidden, even from themselves. So it made its way toward them, the cave shifting once more, this time appearing on the moon, near a grand structure known as the Watchtower.
It had found them.
And soon, their wishes would be heard.
**
The cold silence of the moon surrounded them as the League made their way through the mysterious cave. Its jagged walls shimmered under the distant lights of the Watchtower. Batman, as always, led the way, scanning the cave for any sign of danger. His mind, sharp as ever, was focused on the task at hand, though the weight of the past still clung to him.
Superman walked behind him, guilt gnawing at him. He glanced at Batman, the memory of their fight burning in his mind. He had tried, time and again, to make things right, but Batman never let him in.
"Bruce," Superman started, his voice quiet, careful. "About what happened—"
"It’s over," Batman cut him off, not even sparing a glance. His voice was cold, distant. To the League, he wasn’t Bruce. When the cowl was on, he was Batman. Nothing more, nothing less.
Superman wasn’t ready to let it go. "It matters," he insisted, his voice lowering. "I said things… things I never meant. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I need you to know I didn’t mean any of it."
**
FLASHBACK TO MISSION
**
The battle had been brutal. One of the hardest they’d faced.
The air crackled with tension as Superman, under the influence of a dark force, turned from a symbol of hope into the League’s worst nightmare. His eyes burned red, glowing with an unnatural light as he hovered above the battlefield, power unchecked. And, as always, Batman was the first to face him.
It was always Batman.
Standing in the wreckage, shadows clinging to him, Batman faced the storm. His cape whipped in the wind, the darkness around him swallowing the flickering lights of destruction. The others fought on, pushing back the forces that swarmed them, but Batman’s focus never left Superman. He was always calculating, always preparing.
Superman’s voice cut through the chaos, cold and unyielding. "You really think you can stop me?" His tone was laced with disdain. "You’re not like us, Bruce. You never were."
Batman didn’t flinch. "Clark, you can fight this."
With a crash, Superman landed in front of him, the ground splintering beneath his feet. "Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I’m tired of pretending you’re anything more than a liability."
The words hit like a punch, sharper than any blow. But Superman wasn’t finished.
"You’d be more useful if you stayed out of the way. Kept yourself safe for once. Stop throwing yourself into every fight. You’re slowing us down, Bruce. You’re a liability."
Batman’s fists tightened, but he didn’t respond. He knew this wasn’t truly Superman speaking. But the words—those words—they cut deeper than he wanted to admit.
Superman stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "Maybe someone should keep you from getting in over your head. We don’t need you running into every battle."
For a moment, Batman faltered. The idea of being sidelined, reduced to nothing more than a mind behind a screen—unable to fight, unable to act—it was worse than any physical blow. Superman, or rather, the force controlling him, had struck at Batman’s deepest fear. Not being able to do the one thing that defined him: fight for justice.
The fight that followed was relentless. Superman didn’t hold back. Batman, despite all his skill, was forced on the defensive. Each blow hit harder, each moment more desperate. It wasn’t until Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter arrived that they were able to break the control over Superman. But the damage had been done. The words still echoed, long after the battle had ended.
**
Present Day: The Cave
**
Batman turned slightly, just enough for his eyes to catch the light. "This isn’t the time. We need to focus."
The cave’s walls hummed faintly, glowing with a strange, pulsing energy, but Superman’s attention was elsewhere. The guilt, the weight of what had happened, twisted inside him. He needed to fix this. He had to.
"It’s not just about that," Superman pressed. "I… I said terrible things. Things I would never—"
"Clark." Batman’s voice sharpened, a warning. "Drop it."
But Superman’s frustration flared. “I just wish you could understand, Bruce! How it feels for the rest of us. I just… sometimes I wish you weren’t human. I wish you could see things the way we do.”
The words were out before he could stop them, raw and full of regret. The cave fell into silence, only the faint hum of energy filling the space. Batman turned to face him fully, his body tense, his expression hidden beneath the mask. The weight of Superman’s words pressed down like gravity.
Behind them, Martian Manhunter stood, quiet and still, his own thoughts heavy. He had been alone for so long, the last of his kind. The burden of being the only Martian left in the universe was something none of the others could ever understand. Not even Batman, with all his burdens, knew what that isolation felt like.
I wish I wasn’t the last, J’onn thought. A wish he had never dared speak aloud. I wish I wasn’t so alone.
The cave began to pulse with light, reacting to the unspoken desires filling the air. The walls shimmered, vibrating with energy.
Batman’s eyes flicked from the glowing walls to Superman, his expression unreadable. "Typical," he muttered. "Good job, Clark."
Superman opened his mouth to respond, but the light from the cave surged, and a wave of raw power erupted from the core, spiraling toward them.
The energy hit Batman first. His body froze, stiffening as the edges of his form began to blur. Superman’s eyes widened in horror as Batman’s shape wavered, melting, collapsing into a shifting mass.
"Bruce!" Superman’s voice broke the silence, his hand reaching out, but it was too late.
Batman’s body dissolved into a puddle of formless matter.
The wish had been granted.