Sell you a Bridge chapter 232

April 22nd 2016 Gotham City 9:00 PM EDT

I  took a minute or two by myself on that roof to get my head on right. My  perfect memory was biting me in the ass because I couldn't scrub the  image of that sobbing little girl in a barbed wire cage from my head no  matter what I did, but I was able to focus and breathe through it until I  was centered. Outer Body had taught me to weather some pretty awful  shit mentally, even if the damage didn't stick around. It was a useful  lesson here, and Zee's time with me had helped me a lot as well.

I  recognized how brutal and reckless I'd been killing Parademons, and  while the demons themselves weren't a threat, the New Gods around here  definitely were. Gilotina had proven their bullshit god powers were hax  enough to actually hurt me, so I absolutely wasn't taking my defense for  granted here, and rampaging around like a pissed off five year old on a  sugar crash wasn't exactly the best way to make sure I didn't leave  myself open. But once I was focused and centered I lifted off the roof  and flew out in search of another one of the powerful energy signatures.  After getting rid of Gilotina there were nine left, and I was taking on  a second now.

They were pretty spread out, and I couldn't  see them physically, though from my aura vision I could tell Morana,  Jim, Adam, and Blood had all engaged with at least one of the bastards.  The others were mostly wading through floods of Parademons from what I  could tell. The nearest signature to me was one of the bigger ones  though, so I headed right for it, and while I did, tear a bloody swathe  through the Parademons in my way this time too, I didn't lose myself  like last time and forget to watch my back.

When I  eventually reached the owner of the signature I readied myself  for...whatever he could do. The New God I found when I arrived for  battle was...ugly. Like really ugly. Broad and flat face surrounded by a  man of matted hair, yellowed uneven teeth and deep set red eyes  gleaming like coals from the shadow of a hanging caveman brow. Despite a  build like a smashed beer can though, the god was actually pretty tall,  eight feet or so, and his aura blazed with hate and rage and a  bloodlust similar to the one Gilotina had possessed, but so much  thicker.

There was one difference though. Gilotina's aura  had been thick with a lust for battle and a berserk rage, but there had  been no real positive emotion, save for those few choked down flashes of  joy during our battle. This guy...his aura was thick with happiness and  revelry as he grinned around nastily at the invasion of my city. I  wasn't going to use my psychometry here, not again, but I didn't think I  needed to. This asshole wasn't just driven to hurt people, it was FUN  for him, and honestly, I needed a simple target at the moment.

His  twisted grin fell on me. "Ah, a champion of the realm. I do hope you're  an entertaining one. I have not been impressed with the caliber of  warrior on your backwater planet. I'm feeling generous today, so I'll  tell you my name before you die. I am Kalibak, firstborn son of  Darkseid, god of ruinous battle. I don't care about your name, but if  you feel the need to state it for posterity perhaps you'll manage to  impress me enough to remember some of it."

The New Gods  voice was as rough and ugly as the rest of him, but despite being a big  ugly asshole I was actually kind of worried. This asshole was STRONG.  Like...probably stronger physically than anyone else I'd met. The weird  club thing he had at his side didn't exactly look like it was flimsy  either, and I conjured Tartarus into my hand without a second thought. I  wasn't making the mistake of holding back on one of Darkseids kids. I  was going to hit him all out with everything I had from the getgo.

I  reached out with my power, and despite knowing how much this would  suck, I shifted myself to my demonically strengthened state, bypassing  the points cost. My head started to throw almost immediately, so I  didn't wait for an invitation or anything, I flashed across the distance  between as and swung my keyblade down on Kalibaks head like a ten ton  hammer. A ten ton hammer he proceeded to catch on his mace with  seemingly no effort at all, despite me putting every ounce of power I  had into the swing.

The next thing that happened was that I  came to a surprising and fairly painful realization. Kalibak wasn't a  swordsman, or even a mace wielder. His weapon was there as a big stick  to hit people with, and judging by the bolt of power that it fired off  (missing me entirely thankfully) debilitating enemies and catching them  by surprise. His actual combat style however, was not dependent on the  mace, a fact that became clear as he released the haft of the thing with  one hand, somehow managing to hold me at bay with just the one as he  got a massive hand around one of my legs and yanked me out of the air.

I  felt my body jerk desperately as he pulled me from my slight and swung  me down, right into his swinging foot, which smashed into me to hard the  shockwave shattered fucking windows on some nearby buildings. Needless  to say I felt that shit even through my armor, and it was nothing like  the light taps Gojo gave me when we were training. I felt several of my  fucking ribs crack on impact as the force of both the swing and kick met  against my torso. I managed to ghost out of the asshole's hand before  he swung again, but still he had seriously fucked me up with just that  one hit.

I backed off. This wasn't a great development.  I'd been so confident in my augmented strength I'd forgotten there WERE  people stronger than I was. This asshole made Lobo look limp wristed,  but honestly that didn't matter. This was on me. I wasn't a head on  fighter. I relied on skill not power. I'd gotten so up my own ass about  being able to throw a proper punch that I'd forgotten to make sure I  threw them properly. The only small upside was the shooting agony in my  ribs (which were healing already, thank you two hundred fifty points of  vitality) at least distracted from my splitting headache.

Kalibak  came shooting in at me, ready to do some more damage. But, having  remembered I wasn't a brawler, I split myself into a dozen clones and  scattered. He grabbed the nearest only for it to pop, and then waded  into the others looking for me. I was, of course, invisible and  intangible, having been smart enough not to actually be one of the  clones that he could see. Still, my clones weren't made for taking hits,  even with my armor, and dissipated after a single blow. The reflexes  helped them each dodge a few hits, but they couldn't hold out for long  against a warrior like Kalibak.

But  then, they didn't need to. I needed more information to deal with  Kalibak, and the clones were letting me see his combat style a bit more  so I could get a handle on how he fought. I'd need to know how he worked  if I wanted to beat him. His method of fighting was...simple, but  brutally efficient. Kalibak was a walking wrecking ball. He DID have  technique, and a pretty good one too, but it was all about economy of  violence. The quickest most brutal way to hurt someone.

A  combination of mace blows, grabs and short, sharp attacks that took  advantage of his size and strength to do some real damage. By the time  he managed to catch and destroy all the clones I had a basic idea of how  to fight him. Which was to say...don't. I could learn and counter the  brawling style Kalibak was using given some time, but I didn't have  that. I wasn't suited to this battle at all.

I  drew my gun, still invisible, and aimed it at his head. A pair of  opened Holes closed the distance to point blank range as he glared  around looking for me, and I fired six times into his skull. It  was...less effective than expected. He roared with anger and pain, but  much like Klarion, Kalibak was a small representation of a much larger  being, an unlike Klarion, there seemed to be some horror and death mixed  in there. Say what you would about the Witch Boy, he was pure chaos,  and while unpleasant apparently much more vulnerable to this kind of  thing.

I  stayed back and watched, trying to come up with some countermeasure to  this fucking beast of a man. This was an issue. I was an assassin in  terms of capability. Powerful surgical strikes. I wasn't built for...I  looked down at my armor. I had something for this. I hadn't used it in  ages actually, but I did have a martial art rattling around in my head.  The gun wasn't really suited for Kalibak but brute force could work,  even if I had less of it than him. I just needed to apply it right.

I  focused on the armor, on the shape, and with another pulse of pain in  my head I sharpened the tips of my fingers into claws. The armor was  liquid metal, and the shape of it was technically controllable to a very  small level. Then I flew back in towards Kalibak. I dismissed Tartarus,  as much as I wanted the keyblade in play, I didn't have any practice  using my Doom Fist with a weapon.

I  knew the whole style perfectly, even without Outer Body, I'd gotten a  master level education in the art. With the insight I'd gained from  watching Kalibak tear apart my clones I'd gotten a decent idea how to  avoid his blows, and given I was still invisible, when I went solid  behind him, he didn't react in time. I channeled all that demonic force  into my finger tips and rammed them into his flesh.

There  was a roar of pain as my hands tore into flesh, but I was already gone  before the response landed, intangible again. The Doom Fist focused all  my force and power (of which there was now quite a bit) into my fingers,  and it was an excellent tool for an assassin. I spent the next five or  ten minute ripping holes in Kalibak. He was a dangerous enemy, but he  was also literally pure force. He had no counter to fighting a ghost  ninja, and once I went back to my roots, it was only a matter of time  before I finished the fight.

My  head was pounding like a steel drum, but I was managing the pain for  the moment, and as he got more and more angry I got closer to finishing  it. Finally he gave me his back in an opening I couldn't pass up and I  dove in to put him down. All my speed, power, and force drove into the  tips of my fingers, and I used the Doom Fist as it was truly meant to be  used. I drove my hand through Kalibaks back and tore out his still  beating heart. He staggered, his feet coming off the flying disks he was  using, and tumbled about fifty feet to the ground, a fall that was  pretty much his equivalent of falling from a standing height.

I crashed down next to him, nearly incoherent from pain and power  overuse, but still cognizant enough to watch his aura for tricks. It was  disappointing but not unexpected to see his spirit flow out into the  larger construct I saw when shooting him, but as I fell to my knees I  couldn't complain. As a god Kalibak couldn't be killed so easily, but  here and now he was dead. I let his heart roll limply from my fingers as  I collapsed to the ground, blacking out. I needed a minute.