You're a meta-human." Superman's voice was quiet, the words leaving his mouth after a long stretch of silence. For a moment, neither of them moved. David had already started turning to leave when those words reached him, and they made him pause mid-step.
He stood there, back to Superman, his body still. Ever since he had regained the memories of his past life, he had known more about this world than most—knowledge carried over from a life where this reality had been nothing more than a comic book… So, he knew not to speak about these abilities.
"Yeah." That was all he said, his tone flat, before he continued walking. He left the words hanging behind him, leaving Superman with nothing else to hold onto.
The Man of Steel wanted to help, but what could he possibly say to a man who had just lost his daughter? His background check on David had told him enough—the man was a single father who had raised his little girl entirely on his own. And now she was gone.
"I'm sorry…" Superman whispered, his voice low as his eyes lingered on the grave where Sarah now rested—or rather, what remained of her crushed body. For a long moment, he stood in silence, the burden of failure pressing heavily on his chest. Then he drew in a deep breath, lifted his gaze to the sky, and with a rush of wind, rocketed upward, vanishing into the horizon.
David, meanwhile, returned to his empty home. The silence inside pressed against him, broken only by his own steady breathing. He turned his focus inward, reviewing everything he had gained from the template. With every breath, his body shifted, transforming, molding itself into something far beyond human.
His physical strength was climbing toward the level of Yujiro Hanma—the monster of a man whose punches were said to reach Mach 70 and beyond. A man who could casually shrug off lightning strikes, whose mere gaze could strip a person bare, reading them like an open book. David's body was reshaping itself into that same terrifying standard, each passing moment bringing him closer to it.
But the most important gain of all was Yujiro's talent itself, along with every skill and ounce of experience that came with it. With that talent coursing through him, David could now instantly master nearly anything he encountered, picking up techniques as if they were second nature.
And it wasn't just Yujiro alone. His talent had fused with Gojo's, merging two monstrous forces into one terrifying whole. Yujiro, a man whose raw strength eclipsed nearly everyone, and Gojo, whose Six Eyes and Limitless bent the very laws of space.
To put it in perspective, Yujiro stood above fighters like Toji, who had once managed to bring down a teenage Gojo. Now imagine Yujiro's power combined with Gojo's techniques. That was David. A Toji with the Six Eyes and Limitless at his disposal. A nightmare given form.
David's mind itself had evolved into something inhuman. Like a living supercomputer, it could absorb and process staggering amounts of information in moments. Thanks to his overwhelming fusion of talents, his processing power even surpassed Gojo's, allowing him to perceive and react at levels no ordinary being could ever comprehend.
Since curse energy didn't exist in the world of DC, David's power adapted, molding itself to the rules of this universe. Instead of cursed energy, he found himself able to tap into the emotional spectrum—the very same source of power that fueled the Lantern Corps.
Unlike the Lanterns, however, David required no ring, no external tool to channel it. His body and mind naturally gravitated toward the negative emotions that thrived within him. Fear. Anger. Greed. Sorrow.
Each emotion resonated with a color in the spectrum—Yellow for Fear, Red for Anger, Orange for Greed, and Gray for Sorrow. But where others would struggle to control even one, David's new talent allowed him to draw on all four at once. The energies did not exist separately within him but bled together, merging into something far darker.
These four emotions combined to form his own unique counterpart to cursed energy, a hybrid power unlike anything the DC world had ever seen.
Thanks to his two templates, David was also able to tap into Green, the aspect of willpower. That willpower didn't stand apart from his power; it merged directly into his curse energy, blending with it and layering over it until the two moved as one. The result was simple and direct: his curse energy was reinforced, strengthened by his willpower, and carried more weight each time he drew on it.
For now, he was still weak—at least compared to what he intended to reach—but he would keep growing until he stood as strong as the two combined. Even at this stage,
By the way, he was already more than capable of being considered a true hero. He could switch the Six Eyes off and on at will, a simple choice whenever he needed it. After today, though, he planned to keep them active at all times, leaving them open as his default from this point forward.
This was the DC verse, and David had no intention of ever leaving himself defenseless. Even with the ultra-instinct-like ability he had inherited from Yujiro, he refused to take unnecessary risks. He knew better. This was a world where someone like Batman, with no powers at all, was still able to slip past Superman's senses, outthink gods, and prepare counters for beings far above human. If someone like that existed, then caution was not optional.
So, David turned on the television, letting the background noise fill the silence of his home while he sat with a notebook in hand. He began to take careful notes.. After today, he had made up his mind: he would make sure the world understood one thing clearly—his daughter's death had not been for nothing.
In truth, that message wasn't really for the world at all. It was for himself. He couldn't allow her death to lose meaning, and he wouldn't let himself forget the promise he silently made every time he thought of her.
The news was currently reporting on a war taking place in Jarhanpurian, a conflict officially titled The Boravian–Jarhanpurian War. It was described as a series of invasions into Jarhanpur by its neighboring country, Boravia. David, however, already knew the truth. These wars were not simply acts of aggression between two nations; they were being secretly manufactured by Lex Luthor himself. It was all part of Luthor's long-term strategy to undermine the public's faith in Superman by dragging him into political turmoil.
David calmly wrote down notes, marking Jarhanpurian as a place he would need to visit in the near future. Yet before he could go further, breaking news interrupted the broadcast. The screen cut to Lex Luthor, who was addressing the world directly. Luthor revealed to the public a recording—Superman's parents' message to their son when they sent him to Earth.
They sent Superman to Earth not to be their hero, but instead they urged Superman to take a harem and conquer Earth. As the broadcast spread, public faith in Superman wavered; people were shaken by the possibility that their greatest hero had been destined for domination rather than protection.
David, though, ignored it completely. He had already known exactly how events like this would play out. There was no surprise for him, only confirmation of what he expected.
Instead, he sat down and reviewed everything he could remember about the DC universe. He ran through a list in his head of people to watch closely—names that demanded caution: Batman, Lex Luthor, Amanda Waller, Vandal Savage. Those were the figures on Earth he had to either keep an eye on or remove before they could become obstacles.
Beyond the planet, his memory reached farther. He recalled beings whose very existence spelled catastrophe: Brainiac, Darkseid, Trigon, Doomsday. These were not mere criminals or corrupt officials; they were cosmic-level threats, entities that could one day turn their attention toward Earth. The less any of them knew about him, the better.
With that in mind, he made a mental note to prepare contingencies. If and when a mind like Brainiac ever decided to capture or catalogue him, David wanted plans already in place—measures to ensure he wouldn't be studied, imprisoned, or dismantled.
The less Brainiac had to work with, the better. He made a mental note of that and moved on. He also concluded that The Joker would have to be eliminated—get that clown out of his life for good. There were other people on his list to kill, too, but for now that collection of names would suffice.