The battlefield lay still for a moment—just enough for the wind to carry the smell of blood through the air. Gargi's eyes narrowed as she watched frost creep over the ground in jagged veins.
Gargi's thoughts:
How…? Purple goblins could wield toxins and flames, but ice is unheard of. It can't be…
Zatana's smile widened like she'd been waiting for that realization. "Oh, you finally figured it out?"
She spread her arms, the pink crown on her head gleaming as her aura flared. "You thought you were the only hybrid here? Look at me—I carry the blood of the Blue Goblins and the Purple Goblins. Ice in one hand, poison in the other. I am Princess Zatana, and you… are just another victim."
Gargi's voice was low but steady. "That doesn't mean you get to do this."
Zatana's laugh was sharp, cutting through the cold. "Do this? I'm not just going to hurt them, Gargi.
Your people will serve mine. They'll work until their bones snap, and when they beg for death, I'll still keep them alive—just long enough to break what's left of their spirit."
Gargi stepped forward, eyes blazing. "Then I'll kill you before you touch a single one of them."
In an instant, she was a blur—her fist crashing through the ice wall Zatana conjured between them.
Shards exploded in every direction as Gargi's knuckles slammed into Zatana's chest, the impact echoing across the battlefield. The purple princess flew back, skidding across the frozen ground before crashing into a mound of snow.
Zatana's Past:
The Strongest
But Zatana had never been one to stay down.
Her story was etched in blood from the start. She had been born frighteningly strong—so strong that her parents feared her. They abandoned her at the gates of the Purple Goblin village.
She grew up feral, a child who bit, clawed, and lashed out at anyone who came too close.
It was then that an elder warrior—the Purple Guardian—took her in. He recognized the raw power in her mixed blood, but the rest of the tribe only whispered that she was cursed.
One day, to silence the doubters, the Guardian put her in a ring against twenty older, armed warriors. "She'll fight you all, bare-handed. If she loses, she leaves."
The match was chaos. Zatana didn't dodge—she welcomed the attack. She ducked under a spear, shattered a jaw with her elbow, and stomped a blade into the dirt. Minutes later, she stood alone, bloodied but unbowed, surrounded by groaning bodies. Her bare hands dripped crimson.
The Purple Guardian only laughed.
From that day, Zatana was leader in all but name. She was worthy because she was the strongest.
Present Time
The memory dissolved into the cold air as she rose from the snow where Gargi had sent her flying. But when Gargi blinked—Zatana was gone.
A whisper of movement behind her. Too late.
A cold palm pressed against Gargi's back. Frost shot through her spine as Zatana's voice purred in her ear: "Your strength means nothing if you can't keep up."
The next moment, pain exploded in her chest. An ice spike burst through from behind, its jagged tip stained crimson. Blood spilled down her armor, steaming in the cold.
Gargi staggered forward, her vision blurring. She reached for the spike, but a second sensation spread through her veins—a burning heat, unnatural and deadly.
"Poison," Zatana whispered, stepping back with a smug smile. "I told you. Ice… and poison."
The ground swayed beneath Gargi's feet. Her knees buckled, her breath came in short, ragged bursts. She could feel the toxin racing through her blood, every heartbeat pushing it deeper.
But even as her strength faltered, her grip on her axe didn't loosen. She turned her head toward Zatana, eyes still locked with fury. "I… won't… fall."
Zatana tilted her head, amused. "Oh, you will. And when you do, I'll make sure your people watch every moment."
The purple goblin army around them began to chant her name. "ZATANA! ZATANA! ZATANA!"
The world around Gargi blurred—snow, blood, and the jeering faces of her enemies melting into one indistinct haze. With a guttural roar, she ripped the ice spike from her chest, blood pouring freely. She took one shaky step toward Zatana.
Zatana only smirked and raised her hand again. Frost began to swirl, the ground beneath Gargi's boots cracking and freezing solid.
Above them, the air condensed into the shape of a massive, barbed spear of ice, its shadow falling over Gargi like the blade of an executioner.
To Be Continued…