Despite the confusion swirling in his mind, the Red Devil would never get the answer.
His vision went black.
And then—nothing.
Poof!
Rorschach casually tossed the limp body to the ground like a discarded ragdoll.
"He… He actually killed that monster?"
"No way. That can't be real… right?"
Raven, Beast, Darwin—all the young mutants who had been paralyzed with worry—stood frozen, eyes wide in disbelief.
Just seconds ago, Rorschach was about to be teleported to his death, turned into another victim of the Red Devil's infamous "skyfall."
But in a single breath, the tables had turned.
And the Red Devil was dead.
The reversal was so fast, so brutal, no one could process it.
"Azazel!"
The Black Emperor's expression finally cracked. Surprise and fury flared across his face.
It wasn't just the loss of a powerful mutant—Azazel was one of his most dependable enforcers, a weapon that had executed countless deadly tasks without fail. He was irreplaceable.
Yet now, reduced to a corpse in front of him.
But the pain faded as quickly as it came.
The Black Emperor's eyes locked onto Rorschach again—this time, filled not with rage, but desire.
Here was a true gem.
A mutant with raw power, precision, and the kind of cold efficiency Shaw prized above all.
Yes… if he could recruit this one, Azazel's death would be a bargain.
Sorry, old friend, Shaw might've thought. You've already served your purpose.
But that's who Shaw was: ruthless, calculating. Every piece on the board was expendable if it meant checkmate.
"You killed Azazel!" Riptide's voice cracked with disbelief. His usual smug calm was gone, replaced with fury and panic.
He raised his hand, conjuring a cyclone in his palm—
Swoosh!
But before he could release it—
Thwip!
Rorschach flicked his wrist. A dagger flashed from his hand, slicing the air like a silver comet.
Where did that come from?!
Simple—Rorschach had prepared. Once Charles and Erik left, he quietly equipped himself for this.
Under the force of more than ten tons of strength behind the throw, the blade reached supersonic speed almost instantly.
Splat!
Riptide's eyes widened.
He looked down.
The dagger had punched straight through his chest, pinning him like a specimen.
His mouth opened to speak—"You… You…"—but only blood came out.
His body crumpled to the ground.
Dead before he hit it.
Silence.
Total, stunned silence.
Everyone stared, stunned at the carnage.
Riptide—who could whip up tornados with a flick of his wrist, who once obliterated entire buildings without breaking a sweat—was gone.
Just like that.
The Red Devil was terrifying, yes, but Riptide? His destructive power was arguably greater.
And yet… neither of them lasted more than a minute.
They had no chance.
But for Rorschach, this was nothing unexpected.
Many mutants, no matter how flashy or devastating their powers, were incredibly vulnerable.
Magneto, for instance—he once ripped apart a football stadium in a tantrum. Yet he was nearly brought down by a single bullet.
Professor X? The world's most powerful telepath. But take away Cerebro, stick a helmet on him, and he's just a man in a chair. One stab away from death.
Riptide had the same weakness—his powers took time to activate.
But Rorschach? He didn't give people time.
"Worthy of Rorschach!"
"So damn cool!"
After the shock, excitement surged through the mutant recruits.
Two out of three attackers were down—and Rorschach had taken them both alone. No hesitation. No wasted movement.
He was like a myth given flesh.
Even those who had once doubted him were now staring in awe. He made them feel something rare in moments like this: safe.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
A slow applause broke the tension.
Shaw.
His face was still.
But his hands clapped slowly, deliberately, eyes never leaving Rorschach.
He wasn't mourning.
He was impressed.
"Incredible," Shaw said, stepping forward. "Do you even realize who those two were? Do you have any idea what they were capable of?"
"And you—" he gestured at Rorschach, "—you didn't even blink."
He gave a short, almost admiring laugh.
"You're wasting your time here. A new era is coming, and we need men like you to lead it. Come with me. Together, we'll reshape the world."
The offer hung in the air.
A king offering a crown.
Rorschach tilted his head slightly. His gaze was calm.
"You're right," he said. "A new era is coming."
Shaw smiled. Victory, he thought.
But then—
"The difference is… you're not the one leading it."
Shaw's smile faded. Just a fraction.
"Not me?" he scoffed. "You're not going to tell me you think it'll be you?"
Rorschach didn't answer immediately.
He didn't need to.
He already knew.
With the powers of the Homelander, with knowledge of this world's future, and a mind trained for war—who else could it be?
But he wasn't going to stand there and monologue like some cliché villain.
That was Shaw's thing.
Rorschach just stood tall, cold, unwavering.
Because he knew—
This wasn't the end.
It was just the beginning.
............
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