"Haha, Creator, did you really think it was going to be that simple?" An evil laugh echoed through the air as everyone turned toward the source. Omen floated above them, his expression twisted with madness. This wasn't the original—this was the clone he left behind on Earth.
Batwoman clenched her jaw, her fists tightening at her sides. She had made sure the clone couldn't follow them. Every step, every countermeasure had been in place… so how was this possible?
Her eyes drifted back to the original Omen, only to see him staring at her with a betrayed look.
"Why? Why would you come here?" Omen said, his voice low but shaking with fury. "After everything I did to make sure I'd never return to Earth?"
Once he had a moment to think, the anger took over. They had won. They had him beaten. Yet they risked everything—on what?
Sure, it looked like they were close to ending him, but let's be honest. Neither he nor they knew for certain that death would stick. So why take the chance? Why throw everything away on a gamble that might not work? They were willing to risk the entire universe… and for what?
"You could have put me to sleep for the rest of time… you could have sealed away my powers and left me here," Omen shouted, his voice cracking with frustration. "Am I the only one who actually wants to stop me?"
"Haha, but they couldn't do that," the clone said with a mocking laugh. "Not while we clones were out there, running wild. They had to act fast—to erase you before we became unstoppable. And the reason they couldn't stop you today? That's on you. You shut out the outside world and ignored us, thinking this place would cage your sins. But while you were playing warden to yourself, we were free to move however we wanted."
Omen clenched his jaw, glaring at the clone for a long moment… before suddenly breaking into laughter.
"You got me. Good one," Omen said, joining the clone in laughter, at himself, mostly. Because, in the end, it really was funny. He had found peace. For the first time in what felt like forever, he believed he was living in a world where, slowly, his desire to hear others scream would fade, killed by its own repetition. The thrill, he thought, would die out on its own.
And when the Justice League showed up, he was happy. Genuinely happy. They were finally going to end him, and his joy had soared higher than ever, only for it all to come crashing down.
The funniest part? The very people who should have been the ones to stop him… were about to free him. All because of his own carelessness, for leaving behind those damn clones. He was angry at them, sure—but mostly, he was furious with himself.
"We do want to stop you… But we also want to help you," Batwoman said as she stepped toward Omen, her voice calm and resolute.
Omen was crying. For all the horror he'd unleashed, his humanity was still alive… and it was in pain. More than anyone, he truly wanted to be stopped—because deep down, he didn't want to keep enjoying any of it.
"YOU!" Omen snapped, lunging toward Batwoman with murder in his eyes. The rage was raw, real, but before he could strike, Batwoman stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.
Omen's eyes went wide. He felt it—a sharp sting in his chest. Something had pierced him… Batwoman had pierced him with something.
"But you're suffering… the good inside you is trapped, crying for it all to end," Batwoman said, her voice trembling as her body shook in horror at what she had just done.
Around her, the Justice League stood frozen, stunned in silence. None of them could believe what Batwoman had done, least of all herself.
"I'm sorry… I couldn't keep my promise," she whispered, her voice barely audible, choked by guilt.
Omen's clone, watching from above, stared wide-eyed as the original body began to crumble. The clone's mouth opened, but he couldn't speak. The connection—gone.. In an instant, he vanished. And across the universe, so did the rest of them.
"No… this was all I wanted… and this." As Omen's body was broken down atom by atom, he gave in to one final impulse. At the end of the day, he was still a slut. He leaned forward and kissed Batwoman. It was quick, fleeting, but sincere. When he pulled back, his lips curled into a soft, peaceful smile as his body disappeared completely.
Batwoman stood frozen, eyes wide and vacant. She had taken a life, no matter how justified, no matter how noble others might claim it to be. That fact clung to her like a weight, heavy and suffocating. Her limbs refused to move, her mind echoing with what she'd just done.
And deep inside, she knew one thing. Omen might not be truly gone.
Batwoman had entered the Phantom Zone with a clear mindset—she might be forced to kill Omen. She was Batwoman, and she always came prepared. If Green Arrow could design an arrow capable of erasing someone on the atomic level, then she, too, could create a failsafe of her own.
"Time flows differently in the Phantom Zone," Superwoman said softly, stepping forward to stand beside her. "If it hasn't already happened… then maybe Omen is truly gone."
But just as the weight of those words began to settle, everyone froze. Before their eyes, a body began to take form—slowly, piece by piece.
Everyone's pupils shrank in disbelief. Omen—who had just been erased from existence—was reforming before their very eyes, as if death itself had no hold over him. The fragments of his body slowly reformed, defying everything they understood.
To make matters worse, the Phantom Zone itself began to stir. A deep, ancient pressure spread through the air as the god-like being that slumbered within its core began to awaken, disturbed by the impossible resurrection unfolding before it.
"We-we have to leave! If we stay here any longer, we'll go insane!" Doctor Fate shouted, his voice strained as he raised his hands and cast a powerful spell to shield their minds from the Phantom Zone affecting their minds..
"We can't leave everyone behind!" Superwoman cried out, her voice cracking with urgency.
Doctor Fate turned sharply to Zatanna, who nodded and immediately began casting a spell. Cyborg joined her, merging her tech-based systems with the arcane energy, stabilizing the rapidly shifting Phantom Zone long enough for the portal to Earth to open.
In a flash, countless shimmering gateways formed across Phantom City, appearing near every broken soul who had been trapped there. One by one, they were pulled through the portals, vanishing from the gray nightmare and reappearing aboard the Watch Tower.
There was no time to hesitate. The pressure was mounting, reality beginning to twist from the awakening presence. The League began to retreat—but Batwoman, eyes fixed on the half-reformed Omen, suddenly lunged forward.
She reached out and grabbed hold of his still-forming body, her hand trembling as she made contact.
"W–why would you bring him along?!" Green Arrow shouted, glaring at Batwoman in disbelief.
Batwoman didn't flinch. Her voice was calm, but firm. "If Omen were to go completely insane… who would be able to stop him then?"
The question hit hard, silencing Green Arrow mid-breath. Because the Omen they'd fought—despite everything—had still clung to some trace of humanity. He wanted to be stopped. He had let them win.
But what if that part of him was gone? What if next time, there was nothing left to hold him back?
"Put him in a deep slumber. With all of his clones gone, we have nothing to worry…" Before Superwoman could even finish or turn to face those they had rescued from the Phantom Zone, a sudden blast of heat vision slammed into her chest, launching her across the room and crashing her into the Watch Tower wall with a deafening thud.
Gasps filled the air as every head whipped toward the source of the attack, only for their hearts to sink.
Sitting back in a chair, legs crossed with a mocking grin stretching across his face, was yet another Omen clone.
"You thought we clones didn't foresee the possibility of our creator being killed? Of course, we did. So, we created a robot and embedded our minds into it. Naturally, we included our powers as well…" the clone said with a twisted grin. "We'll make our main body suffer—even if he's long gone. We'll spread evil across creation in his name and image… and ensure that all the blame falls on him."
The clone's laughter erupted, wild and unhinged. It was a laugh so maddened, so manic, that it seemed like his head might explode from the sheer force of it.
"Well then… goodbye. We're watching," he said at last, before his body detonated.
The explosion wasn't massive—just precise. Just powerful enough to erase every trace of his existence, leaving not even a fragment behind.
"…" Batwoman's mind raced as she processed what it all meant. With Omen no longer connected to the clones, and the clones having backed up their minds into computers, it meant they could never be truly killed. Unless every single machine and each robotic body were destroyed, the clones would continue to exist. In a terrifying way, they had become just like the original.
They were only lucky, for now, that their wrath was aimed solely at Omen.
"We're fucked," Val muttered, her expression blank. She couldn't even guess how many of the clones had uploaded their minds. If only ten had done it, that was still ten fully independent intelligences—each with its own agenda, thoughts, and strategies.
It was safe to assume that an army of robots could soon come knocking on their doorstep—an army fueled by countless powers and abilities, all under the clones' control.
"Fuck." A depressed sigh broke the heavy silence, drawing everyone's attention toward Omen. He was lying on the floor, completely naked, staring up at the ceiling with a hollow, vacant look. His expression said everything—he was clearly unhappy to still be alive. He didn't even try to move, as if the weight of existence had drained the very last bit of energy from his body.
"Why did you take me out of the Phantom Zone?" Omen asked, his voice cracking, almost on the verge of tears. The torment he was being dragged through was unbearable. At this point, it felt like they were forcing him to keep living… forcing him to become this thing again.
"Because… I love you." Batwoman's voice was quiet but steady.
Omen's body went still. He slowly turned to look at her, unsure if he'd heard her right. His eyes searched hers for any sign of mockery—but found none.
Everyone else stood frozen, stunned by Batwoman's words, the weight of her confession hanging in the air like a blade.
Omen's mind went blank. He couldn't process it—someone loved him? Not just anyone… but Batwoman? Even Joker didn't love him anymore. So how… how could she? A filthy slut like him?
Was she really willing to overlook everything—the filth of his past? The things done to him before he even understood what love was?
Back when he lived at the orphanage, he wasn't seen as a child—he was high-end merchandise for women with twisted desires. He was never adopted, not because he was unwanted, but because he was too "valuable" to be taken away. Women would visit, have their way, then leave. Some found pleasure in hurting him, beating him until he cried out. Others brought toys—he was young then, and management wouldn't allow anything that could physically damage him. But that mercy didn't last forever.
What he was trying to say—without saying it—was simple. He was dirty. Damaged beyond repair.
Unlike the Joker, who was also broken in a way Omen understood, Batwoman wasn't. She was everything he wasn't—whole, strong, untainted. In his eyes, she was perfect, and he was the furthest thing from that. He was a monster. His body count was beyond comprehension, and the list of his sins could go on forever.
What on earth could Batwoman possibly see in him?
So Omen backed away from her, unable to face the weight of her words—of her feelings. Still lying on the ground, he used his hands and heels to crawl backward, like she had become some terrifying force he couldn't bear to face.
But Batwoman didn't stop. She walked toward him.
"S-stay away," Omen said, his voice trembling—not with power, but with the fear of a wounded child. In that moment, he sounded less like the monster they had all come to fear, and more like a pure, fragile boy, face to face with the big, bad wolf.
The sight left the Justice League speechless. But it also reminded them—this was the reason Omen cared so deeply for Batwoman and Superwoman. Beneath the blood and brutality, there was still a human being, shattered by the past. His trauma wasn't just buried—it was screaming now, plain for all to see.
"Be my boyfriend," Batwoman said softly but seriously. Omen shook his head over and over.
"I-I can't," Omen said, his voice cracking just before he suddenly turned and bolted, phasing through the Watch Tower walls and rocketing into the void of space. Like a frightened child—or a coward—he was running, unable to stay on Earth, unable to face Batwoman's words or the feelings they awakened in him.
But the Justice League wasn't about to let him go so easily.
Without warning, Omen found himself ripped back into the Watch Tower, his body flickering as the forced teleport stunned him. Before he could react, enchanted chains shot forward, coiling tightly around him and locking away his powers. Even before his strength had a chance to wane, layers of spells had already been cast—Doctor Fate's handiwork. A failsafe had been placed: if Omen moved a certain distance away from her, he would be teleported right back into her presence.
"Stop this," Omen said sharply, his voice laced with panic as he felt the Martian entering his mind. He didn't want this, especially not now. The deeper the Martian dug into his past, the more he feared what might be revealed. In the past, he might've brushed it off, uncaring. But now? Now he was terrified—terrified that Batwoman would see what he had been through after she'd confessed how he felt.
"Link me with his mind," Batwoman said softly, never breaking eye contact with him. Her voice was calm, but her eyes burned with determination. She saw it all—the fear in his gaze, the helplessness of a man who had never known love and had spent a lifetime convincing himself he didn't need it. No wonder he was scared. To finally feel love, only to lose it because of scars from a past he never chose… it would be a pain worse than hell.
"…" Omen's horrified eyes gradually softened, shifting from raw fear to quiet, grim acceptance. What right did a monster like him have to ask them to stop? He didn't deserve love—he never had. If Batwoman were to see the truth of his past and reject him on the spot, wouldn't that be perfect? Wouldn't that be justice? The pain of her turning away… wasn't that exactly what a monster like him was meant for?