Ascension Code: Reborn in the DC Universe - Chapter 106

Paris, October 2nd — 1:55 AM.

The Eiffel Tower, the eternal symbol of the City of Lights, was completely covered in mutant vines of the colossal plant. Thick branches, covered in black thorns and fleshy red flowers, spiraled around the iron structure, tightening like living snakes. Each contraction made the metal groan and creak, bolts snapping, beams twisting slowly. The ground around the tower trembled with the subterranean movement of the expanding roots, cracking the asphalt and causing benches and lampposts to topple like toys. The area’s population had already been evacuated hours before, but the chaos was still total: distant sirens, helicopter spotlights cutting through the darkness, and the sweet, nauseating smell of sap mixed with the ozone of released energy.

Suddenly, the plant began to release a dense, greenish gas that rose in slow clouds from the pores of the flowers. Some police officers who were still manning barricades on the outskirts inadvertently inhaled the vapor. At first, nothing happened. Then their faces contorted. An involuntary, painful smile spread across their mouths, stretching their facial muscles until they ached, as if their skin were about to tear. Their eyes widened, pupils dilated. They began to laugh—a mad, uncontrolled laugh, like inmates in a lunatic asylum in the midst of a crisis. Their bodies writhed in violent spasms, knees buckling, hands clutching their chests as laughter mingled with cries of pain. One of them fell to his knees, laughing and crying at the same time, tears streaming down his face as his body shook uncontrollably.

In the dark sky, two figures approached at high speed. Martian Manhunter flew with Aquaman hanging from one of his elongated arms. In the other arm, Aquaman gripped his golden trident tightly, its blades gleaming in the dim moonlight. Martian Manhunter hurled Aquaman with surgical precision toward the tower. The king of Atlantis cut through the air like a projectile, his green cape billowing. He crashed forcefully against the vines, his trident spinning in a wide arc. The sharp blades cut through the lines of vegetation covering the tower, green sap gushing like blood. Thick branches snapped with damp cracks, opening a narrow path into the structure. Aquaman entered, his feet pounding on the metal floor. Inside the tower, dozens of people still trapped screamed, bound by vines that tightened around their arms and legs. Aquaman didn’t hesitate. His trident spun again, cutting vines with surgical precision as Martian Manhunter closed in. The Martian’s arms transformed into long, strong green tentacles. They wrapped their arms around people’s waists, carefully but firmly pulling them out of the tower and towards a safe area already prepared for evacuation.

While Aquaman continued destroying the remaining vines, his trident gleaming with each blow, chaos ensued in Paris.

Taipei, October 2nd — 7:56 AM.

The Flash moved at supersonic speed. The Flash, a red and yellow blur, raced between the mutant vines that covered an entire nuclear power plant. His feet struck the ground so fast they left trails of fire on the asphalt. Thick branches tried to whip him, but he was faster. Each stride destroyed dozens of vines, explosions of sap flying in all directions. However, the vines clinging to the main boiler tightened with increasing force. Metal creaked. Thin cracks began to form on the boiler’s surface, radioactive steam escaping in thin jets. The Flash stopped for a fraction of a second, his eyes wide with disbelief. Nuclear catastrophe was about to unfold before his eyes—a radioactive cloud was beginning to form, glowing a sickly green.

Then a silvery beam shot overhead at impossible speed. It was Captain Atom. The hero flew straight into the spreading radioactive cloud. His glowing body entered the toxic mass and began to suck the nuclear energy into itself. The cloud rapidly diminished, being absorbed by the hero’s body until it disappeared completely. Captain Atom floated in the air, his body pulsing with contained energy, and gave a quick nod to Flash before flying to the next critical point.

Star City, October 2nd — 4:57 PM.

The mutant plant covered the great Star City bridge like a colossal snake. Thick, thorny branches coiled around the steel structures, tightening with increasing force. The metal groaned, bolts snapping one by one, the entire bridge creaking as if about to collapse. In the middle of the bridge, a yellow school bus was trapped: a thick branch wrapped around the vehicle, slowly crushing the metal. Children and adults inside screamed, glass shattering, metal bending with horrible sounds.

Green Arrow and Red Arrow rushed across the bridge, bows already in hand. They aimed with trained precision at the base of the nearest plants. Explosive arrows flew, hitting their targets squarely. Incendiary explosions erupted, orange flames devouring the vines, sap burning with a pungent smell. Part of the calamity was contained, but the main branch holding up the bus did not give way.

Inside the bus, there was total panic. The branch tightened, crushing the roof and making the vehicle groan. Loud screams echoed from within.

Green Arrow and Red Arrow tried firing more arrows, but the main branch held firm. Suddenly, one of the branches whipped violently, striking both archers and throwing them far across the bridge. They rolled across the asphalt, groaning in pain.

POV of the Injustice League — Central Hideout

In the underground hangar, the Joker laughed hysterically while his runic gloves gleamed. He moved his fingers with mastery, controlling dozens of plants at once through the floating mirrors. In Paris, the Eiffel Tower creaked. In Taipei, the nuclear power plant nearly exploded. In Star City, the school bus was crushed. Each gesture created a new catastrophe.

“Poor heroes… nothing they do is ever enough, is it?” he said between maniacal laughs, his thin body writhing with pleasure, white makeup cracking at the corners of his mouth. “It’s not too much!”

Poison Ivy, crouched beside the colossal tree in the center of the hangar, slowly stroked the base of the trunk, her green fingers gliding along the pulsating bark. She looked at the Joker with a satisfied smile.

“It’s impressive how you manage to juggle multiple scenarios.”

The Joker turned his face to her, his yellow eyes gleaming with insanity, still laughing.

“I’ve gotten used to juggling my multiple personalities, darling!”

On the Star City bridge, the Joker made a simple gesture with his right hand. A thick branch of the mutant plant moved, wrapping itself around the top of the school bus. Green Arrow and Red Arrow fired explosive arrows, but the blasts barely scratched the surface reinforced by the Society’s energy. With a simple flick of his fingers, the Joker commanded the plant to hurl the bus off the bridge. The vehicle flew through the air, spinning slowly, children screaming inside.

The two archers ran desperately to the edge, their eyes wide with horror, watching the bus plummet towards the water below.

However, before the bus hit the river, a giant baseball glove, constructed of bright green energy, appeared in the air and intercepted the vehicle perfectly. Green Lantern — Guy Gardner — floated there, holding the bus with the construct. He flew over the archers, gave a relaxed military salute with two fingers to his forehead, and shouted:

“You guys should train more!”

The bus was safely pulled to the opposite bank. The heroes on the bridge breathed a sigh of relief, but the Joker, back in his hideout, only laughed louder, his fingers still dancing in his runic gloves.

The global catastrophe continued. And the Unjust Society still had many tricks up its sleeve.

POV Erick

The pain arrived like an invisible tsunami, crushing every synapse in Erick Smith’s—Forge’s—brain with a force he never imagined possible. Removing the mind-inhibiting implant had truly been a terrible idea. The thought came weakly, almost lost amidst the inferno unfolding inside his skull. He had removed the device weeks ago, thinking it was a Martian transfusion. Now, focused on Count Vertigo’s psychic attack, he realized his fatal mistake. Vertigo’s power, once a controllable wave, now multiplied within his head like a virus feeding on his own strength.

He tried to resist. He clenched his teeth inside his helmet, the darkened visor reflecting the muddy swamp water that still trickled down his armor. His gloved hands gripped the sides of his helmet so tightly that the E10 creaked. Focus. Channel. Block. But Count Vertigo’s mental attack was no longer simple pressure—it was a storm of incandescent needles driven directly into his brain tissue. Each needle burned, piercing his frontal lobes, hippocampus, visual cortex. The pain was excruciating, physical and psychic at the same time: as if someone had driven red-hot iron wires through his eyes, down his spine, and exploding in every nerve. His vision began to flicker, black edges devouring the world. The elemental fire in his chest roared, trying to fight the invader, but only fueled the blaze—the internal plasma amplified the signal, making each needle hotter, deeper.

He fell to his knees in the damp mud of the riverbank. The heavy armor sank several inches into the wet ground, black water rising to his waist. The helmet’s HUD flashed red, synaptic overload alerts flashing in sequence. Pain. Pain. Pain. It wasn’t just discomfort. It was a breakdown. Forge’s mind, that cold, calculating machine he had built since birth, began to fragment. Memories flashed uncontrollably: his cradle in Gotham, the first Venom A test, the desperate kiss with Starfire in Central Park, Artemis’s sweaty body against his in the mansion’s gym. Everything mixed with false images—the Joker’s laughter, roots devouring Smith Manor, his girls trapped in bloody vines. The lacerating pain shattered barriers he thought unbreakable. His muscles trembled inside the armor. A muffled scream escaped his throat, distorted by the helmet’s vocoder.

It wasn’t fatal. The Martian-hybrid body resisted. But he didn’t resist for long. His vision went completely black. The world vanished into an absolute void, as if someone had flipped the switch on his consciousness. The last thing he saw, before succumbing, was Aqualad—the Atlantean leader—dodging with millimeter precision the wave of water he himself had conjured. Aqualad’s body spinning in the air, tattoos glowing, as the liquid column grazed his shoulder. Then… nothing. Only darkness and the pain that still echoed like embers inside his skull.

POV Count Vertigo

Count Vertigo watched the scene from atop a thick, aerial root, his cape billowing slightly in the damp swamp breeze. An aristocratic, satisfied smile curved his lips. The Justice League’s junior team—those youngsters who dared to defy the Society—was utterly defeated. Bodies scattered in the mud: Kid Flash contorted on the ground, hands still clutching his temples, face red with agony; Artemis fallen to her side, bow loose in her hand; Starfire with her eyes closed, solar energy flickering weakly; Superboy dazed, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

Black Adam, towering like a living statue of divine rage, walked up to the Superman clone. With a casual, almost disdainful movement, the villain lifted Superboy’s muscular body by the neck and threw him onto the pile of fallen companions. The impact produced a wet thud in the mud. Black Adam turned to Count Vertigo, the yellow lightning on his chest glowing faintly, and gave a kind smile—a grotesque contrast to the violence he had just committed.

“Now there are only two left,” he said, his voice deep and calm, as if commenting on the weather.

Count Vertigo tilted his head, his mental power still pulsing through his veins like a victorious symphony. The trap had worked perfectly. The intruders were neutralized. The Society’s central control system remained secure. He allowed himself a small sigh of satisfaction, adjusting the glove on his right hand. The game continued.

POV Megan e Robin

Megan and Robin ran silently through the swampy labyrinth, their bodies low, shadows engulfing their every move. Thick vines hung like living curtains, aerial roots emerged from the black water like crooked fingers, and the dense fog reduced visibility to just a few meters. The ground was a treacherous mixture of mud and rotting vegetation that sucked at their boots with every step. They hid behind twisted tree trunks, breathing cautiously, their hearts racing but silent. The mission was clear: find and destroy the central control system while the rest of the team kept Black Adam and Count Vertigo occupied.

As they approached the location indicated by Zatara’s hologram, Megan felt a sudden chill run through her mind. She stopped behind a moss-covered tree, her green hand pressing against her temple. The telepathic link with the rest of the team… was gone. Absolute silence. She sent an urgent thought to Robin, her mental voice trembling slightly:

I lost contact with Aqualad and the others… could it be…

Robin cut off her thought firmly, his voice low but sharp, without taking his eyes off what was ahead.

“Sorry, but… that’s the task.”

He reached out and carefully pushed aside the dense undergrowth. Wet leaves and vines parted, revealing the sight they sought. The Injustice League’s hideout loomed before them, a semi-subterranean structure camouflaged by dense vegetation and giant roots. At its center, a colossal tree stood tall, its trunk covered in shimmering runes that pulsed like a living heart. Holograms and energy cables extended from its base, connecting to a central core that glowed with green energy. The Injustice League’s central control system. The plant acted as a gigantic antenna, transmitting commands to all the other mutant plants scattered around the world—Paris, Taipei, Star City, Gotham. Each pulse of the tree sent out control waves that made distant vines writhe in synchrony.

Robin smiled beneath his mask, his eyes gleaming with tactical determination.

“That’s the mission.”

But before they could take another step, the shadows around the tree shifted. Poison Ivy emerged slowly, her green skin gleaming in the dim light of the runes, her auburn hair cascading like living vines over her shoulders. A predatory grin curved her full lips. With a single thought—a mental command sent directly to the tree—she controlled the lines of vegetation around the two young people. Thick, swift vines erupted from the ground, wrapping themselves around Megan and Robin’s ankles, wrists, and waists with relentless force. The vines tightened, thin thorns lightly piercing their skin, anchoring them in place.

From atop the colossal tree, a white shape fell like a stone. The impact on the ground raised a dense cloud of smoke and mud, obscuring vision for a second. When the mist cleared, Ultra-Humanite was there—the gorilla with dirty white fur and a deformed head, swollen veins pulsing in his exposed skull. In his enormous hands, a high-caliber weapon gleamed, its wide barrel pointed directly at the two young people. The intelligent gorilla grinned, sharp teeth bared.

Poison Ivy stepped forward, her green fingers still caressing the tree trunk, her husky, sensual voice echoing in the swamp:

“Well, well, well… what do we have here?”

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