DC: A Cop in Gotham

Chapter 39: TRIGON

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Dean originally believed that the final boss of this major crisis was Groudon, but he had not anticipated that beneath the surface, hidden within the chaos, there lurked a far greater and more malevolent force—one that did not even belong to this dimension.

Trigon, the Demon Lord of the Hell, was a being born from the most wicked malice of an alternate realm. His origin story could be described as the villainous version of the legend of Long Aotian. On the very day of his birth, all the members of his clan were mercilessly wiped out. However, this event did not mark his downfall; instead, he rose from the bloodshed and took dominion over the planet he called home, ruling it with an iron fist.

Later, three divine beings attempted to put an end to Trigon's ever-growing evil. They devised a plan, using the legendary artifact known as the "Heart of Darkness" in an attempt to purify the darkness within his soul. Yet, their plan backfired in the most catastrophic way imaginable. Instead of being purified, Trigon absorbed the boundless demonic power sealed within the Heart of Darkness, making him even stronger than before.

Once he had obtained such overwhelming power, the very first thing he did was to exact a horrifying punishment upon the three gods who had sought to change his destiny. With sheer cruelty, he transformed them into nothing more than the fabric of his garments—mere pieces of cloth wrapped around his waist, a humiliating and eternal reminder of his triumph.

However, despite his godlike power, Trigon was still bound by the laws of the multiverse. He was too powerful to simply break through the dimensional barriers and descend upon other universes directly. Thus, he devised another method, one that was far more insidious and calculated.

His strategy involved summoning women from different universes, forcibly impregnating them with his bloodline, and then sending them back to their original worlds. This way, his demonic offspring could spread his influence throughout the entire multiverse, expanding his evil far beyond his own dimension.

But this was not the only method he employed. Over the centuries, Trigon experimented with numerous ways to expand his dominion, one of which included the infamous Lazarus Pit. It was none other than Trigon himself who created this mysterious and powerful pool, its waters infused with a fragment of his own power. The Lazarus Pit became known for its miraculous ability to grant immortality and even resurrect the dead, allowing those who bathed in its waters to escape the grip of time.

Yet, as with all things tied to Trigon, this gift came at an unfathomable cost.

The Lazarus Pit, revered as a divine treasure in many legends, was, in reality, a gateway to corruption. Every person who soaked in its waters unknowingly had their soul imprinted with Trigon's mark. The dark essence of the Demon Lord would remain dormant at first, but over time, it would seep into the very depths of their being, tainting their soul and gradually twisting their mind until they became a mere puppet of his will.

Ra's al Ghul, once a man with noble ambitions and a desire to create a perfect world, found his ideals warped into something far more sinister. Under Trigon's influence, his philosophy shifted to one of utter destruction—he believed that only by completely annihilating the old world could a new, utopian society be built upon its ashes. And should Trigon desire it, Ra's al Ghul could be reduced to nothing more than his most loyal and devoted servant at any given moment.

Trigon had placed the Lazarus Pit upon Earth with no grander purpose than one might place a pawn on a chessboard, using it simply as another tool in his far-reaching schemes. Yet, to his surprise, this insignificant pawn soon presented him with an unexpected opportunity.

…

The overwhelming illusion solidified, coalescing into the terrifying form of a crimson figure. Standing atop Groudon's head, his palms slightly outstretched, Trigon commanded the very forces of reality itself. Without so much as a word, the golden Lasso of Truth that had been tightly restraining Groudon suddenly unraveled and fell away, as if bowing in submission to the demonic overlord.

His upper body was bare, revealing a physique that seemed sculpted by the gods themselves, while the golden cloth wrapped around his waist fluttered ominously in the wind. Atop his head, two massive, sharply pointed horns jutted out with an imposing and almost regal presence. His six glowing red eyes blinked in unison, and with each flicker, waves of red ripples spread through the air, effortlessly nullifying the divine impact of Wonder Woman's attack.

"Diana, you have grown stronger," Trigon praised, his voice deep and resonant, echoing with eerie amusement. "You have taken yet another step toward power. Only 999 more to go before you can stand on my level."

"Trigon!"

Superman, fully aware of just how dangerous this being was, knew that he could not hesitate. At this moment, he was the only one who could buy even a fraction of time. Without a second thought, he shot forward at full speed, aiming a devastating punch straight for Trigon's face.

Yet, with nothing but a slight shift of his stance, Trigon raised an arm and casually intercepted Superman's punch with his elbow, as if it were nothing more than a gentle breeze. Without pause, he opened his mouth and exhaled a wave of searing flames, colliding with the frigid breath that Superman instinctively retaliated with. The battlefield was instantly engulfed in the furious clash of fire and ice.

In the next moment, beams of supernatural energy burst forth from Trigon's six eyes, each one targeting a different trajectory. His sheer numerical advantage allowed him to counter Superman's heat vision with ease, turning what should have been a battle of equals into a lopsided struggle.

The impact of Trigon's magic vision sent shockwaves rippling through Superman's body. A sudden weakness overtook him, his strength seemingly draining away. Fortunately, the nourishing rays of the sun above quickly began restoring his vitality, dispelling the strange enfeeblement that had threatened to overtake him.

Trigon shook his head slowly, exhaling a sigh filled with disappointment. "Superman… You are still so weak. You have not evolved, not even slightly. You remain forever dependent on the crude brute force gifted to you by the sun. How can a mere mortal like you ever hope to compare to my great darkness?"

His words dripped with mockery, his six eyes filled with nothing but disdain. Of all the heroes in the Justice League, it was Superman's potential that Trigon had once held in the highest regard. Yet now, after all this time, the Kryptonian still failed to live up to even the smallest fraction of his expectations.

"Enough of your nonsense, Trigon! Leave our world at once!" Superman roared, his frustration boiling over. Without waiting for a response, he launched himself at the demon once more, determined to fight to the bitter end.

Trigon did not even bother to glance at Superman. He stood there, unmoving, as if the Kryptonian's efforts were beneath his notice. Even when Superman's fist collided directly with his face, landing a blow powerful enough to shatter mountains, the demonic entity remained unfazed.

"Haha… Hahaha…!"

Despite the impact causing his neck to twist at an unnatural angle, Trigon's face twisted into a grotesque grin, his laughter echoing with a chilling, otherworldly resonance. It was the kind of laughter that could send shivers down even the bravest warrior's spine. A laughter that did not belong to the realm of mortals.

The eerie sight caused Superman's expression to harden. His muscles tensed, his instincts screaming at him that something was very, very wrong. For the first time in a long while, he felt something akin to dread creeping into his heart. "What are you laughing at, Trigon?!" he demanded, his voice edged with frustration.

"I laugh because you—Superman, the so-called strongest hero of this world—cannot even muster the strength to harm me," Trigon sneered, his deep, demonic voice filled with both mockery and condescension. "And yet, you still dare to call yourself a 'Superman'?"

With an almost lazy movement, Trigon turned his head, the bones in his neck audibly realigning themselves. One of his many faces now pointed directly at Superman, his six burning red eyes locked onto him with an intensity that could pierce through steel. Then, with a taunting smirk, he raised a clawed finger and gestured at the Man of Steel in a beckoning motion. "Come on, try again," he challenged, his voice dripping with amusement. "Maybe this time, put a little more effort into it? Or do you need to bask in the sun for a while first?"

Superman's pride flared at the provocation. His fingers clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white as his entire body surged with power. He refused to back down from this monster. His blood boiled, the challenge igniting a determination within him that could not be extinguished.

Without another word, Superman shot into the sky at a speed that broke the sound barrier in an instant. He ascended rapidly, his body absorbing the full force of the sun's golden rays. Every cell within him became supercharged, filling him with raw, immeasurable strength. If Trigon wanted to see his full power, then so be it. Superman would give him exactly that.

Just as he prepared to dive back down and deliver the full might of his renewed strength upon Trigon, a sharp voice cut through the air, halting him mid-flight.

"No, Superman! Stop!"

Batman's commanding voice rang out, filled with urgency. His tone was not just a warning—it was a desperate plea.

Trigon's expression immediately darkened, the amusement vanishing from his face in an instant. His crimson eyes flickered with irritation as he let out a low growl.

"Tch… So close," he muttered, disappointment dripping from his words. His clawed fingers curled slightly, frustration evident in his posture. "I was this close to harvesting a soul overflowing with regret. What a shame." His gaze landed on the Dark Knight, narrowing with an almost predatory glare. "You truly are a sinful man, Batman," he declared.

Yet Batman, ever the tactician, completely ignored Trigon's words. His focus remained solely on Superman. Without hesitation, he pulled up a holographic data graph, projecting it in front of the Kryptonian. The numbers and seismic readings on the display were staggering.

"Superman, listen to me. According to the data returned from the instruments I placed throughout Gotham, at the exact moment you struck Trigon in the face—down to the millisecond—a 6.3-magnitude earthquake erupted in the heart of Gotham City," Batman stated grimly. His voice was sharp, precise, and devoid of any unnecessary emotion.

Superman's eyes widened slightly as he processed the information. His face darkened, the implications dawning on him.

"Wait… Batman, are you saying that every time we attack Trigon, an earthquake occurs?!" Superman demanded, his voice low but filled with growing unease.

Batman nodded. "Yes," he confirmed. "Right now, Trigon is connected to the very land beneath our feet. Any damage inflicted upon him is being reflected back onto the Earth itself."

A heavy silence fell over the battlefield.

Aquaman, realizing the gravity of the situation, immediately issued an order to his troops. "Atlanteans! Cease fire and retreat to the ocean immediately!" he commanded.

He knew that continuing the fight was now not only futile but catastrophic. The forces under his command, no matter how strong, were nothing but cannon fodder against a being like Trigon. There was no point in throwing their lives away when the very planet was at stake.

Just as the heroes were coming to terms with the revelation, a powerful presence descended upon them. A golden light shimmered in the air as two figures stepped forward.

Doctor Fate and Zatanna had arrived.

The instant Trigon laid eyes upon them, his demeanor changed for the first time. Gone was the smug arrogance, replaced by something far more telling—for the first time since his arrival, Trigon showed a flicker of fear.

"Nabu…" Trigon's voice rumbled, low and filled with uncharacteristic wariness. His glowing red eyes narrowed, and his massive form tensed slightly. "Do not meddle in my affairs," he warned, his tone lacking its usual amusement.

A deep, almost otherworldly voice resonated from beneath Doctor Fate's golden helmet, devoid of any human emotion.

"Wrath of the Earth," Nabu intoned. "That is the name of the force you now wield, Trigon. It is one of the two original cosmic energies newly born within this universe."

The air around them seemed to grow heavier with the weight of the revelation.

Doctor Fate continued, his voice as steady as ever. "The form you have taken before us is merely a spiritual projection—one constructed from the power of the Wrath of the Earth. This is not your true body," he stated matter-of-factly.

Zatanna's breath hitched. The implications were staggering.

Doctor Fate's hollow voice pressed on. "Because you have become one with the Wrath of the Earth, any attack made against you is an attack against this fundamental force itself. The damage dealt to you will be reflected upon the very land you are connected to. And since your influence has only just begun to spread, for now, it is limited to Gotham."

The realization struck like a thunderclap.

Trigon wasn't merely standing on Gotham's soil. He was a part of it now.

If they continued their assault, they wouldn't just be fighting Trigon—they would be destroying Gotham itself.

And with nearly 30 million people still taking refuge beneath the city, the stakes had never been higher.

!

"As expected of an antique that has been around for tens of thousands of years, a mere helmet can reveal so much," Trigon sneered, his deep, guttural voice dripping with disdain as his many eyes locked onto Doctor Fate. His crimson gaze burned with something between amusement and irritation as he mocked the Lord of Order, yet there was an underlying tension in his tone that suggested he had not expected to be so thoroughly exposed.

But then, as if his momentary surprise meant nothing, Trigon let out a dark chuckle and spread his arms wide. His demonic aura pulsed like a heartbeat, waves of red energy distorting the very air around him. "And yet," he continued, his smirk widening to reveal razor-sharp teeth, "what difference does it make? Telling them the truth changes nothing. The outcome will remain the same."

Far below, the corrupted waters of the Lazarus Pit churned violently. Its once-mystical green glow had darkened, the surface now pulsing with something far more sinister. It was no longer just a pit of resurrection—it had become a gateway, a conduit of demonic corruption.

The moment Ra's al Ghul had unknowingly informed Trigon of the existence of this powerful spiritual force, the demon lord had seen an opportunity too great to ignore. He had spent centuries searching for new ways to spread his influence across dimensions, and now, fate had handed him the perfect vessel.

With meticulous planning, Trigon had invested an immense amount of power into forging a new Lazarus Pit deep beneath Gotham's surface, ensuring that its connection to his own dark essence would be absolute. This was no ordinary pit—it was a wellspring of pure, concentrated evil, feeding into the very heart of the Earth itself.

And now, that power had been transferred into Groudon.

The moment the ancient Pokémon had been placed within the pit, the transformation had begun. At first, it had simply seemed like Groudon was healing, the restorative properties of the Lazarus Pit repairing his injuries. But beneath the surface, something far more insidious was taking place.

Every drop of Lazarus water had been infused with Trigon's influence. Every crack and crevice in Groudon's form had been filled with demonic corruption. The primal force that once defined Groudon—the force of land, fire, and unyielding nature—was being overwritten. His very existence was being rewritten.

Now, as Trigon's massive form slowly descended, his many glowing eyes bore into the body of the legendary Pokémon. The transformation had reached its peak. Groudon, once a creature of divine majesty, had now become something else entirely.

His once-mighty horns had elongated into jagged, twisted spikes, their surface coated in unholy black runes that pulsed with crimson light. The magma coursing through his veins had darkened, its fiery glow now replaced with hellish green flames, burning with the energy of the demon realm. His golden eyes, once filled with primal will, were now warped into slitted, demonic green pupils, their depths swirling with the essence of corruption.

But most horrifying of all—where once there had been two, now there were six.

The original demon Groudon had emerged.

Trigon's lips curled into a satisfied smile as he beheld his new creation. "Magnificent," he whispered, his voice a mixture of pride and hunger. He had shaped many worlds, twisted countless souls, and broken the will of heroes across the multiverse—but this was true perfection.

Aquaman's expression hardened instantly. The moment the transformation was complete, he knew—this was no longer a battle they could afford to fight head-on. Without hesitation, he raised his trident high and gave a command that could not be ignored.

"All Atlantean forces, retreat! Return to the ocean at once!"

His voice boomed across the battlefield, carrying the full weight of his authority as king. Every soldier under his command immediately sprang into action. The war against Trigon had shifted in a way they had never anticipated, and now, staying here was nothing short of suicide. Arthur wouldn't allow his people to throw their lives away against a foe that not even the Justice League could defeat.

His decision wasn't just about preserving his forces. The entire world depended on what happened next.

Zatanna, still gasping from the overwhelming pressure emanating from Groudon's new form, turned to her father with desperate eyes.

"Father…" she whispered, fear creeping into her voice for the first time. "Can you… can you defeat him?"

Doctor Fate did not answer immediately. He did not reassure her. He did not offer words of comfort. He simply stood still, the golden glow of his helm reflecting the chaos unfolding before them. And then, in a voice devoid of doubt, he spoke.

"Nabu can destroy him," he admitted. "But he must not."

Zatanna's breath caught in her throat. She turned to him in confusion, disbelief flashing in her wide eyes. "What? Why?!"

Nabu's divine presence took full control of the Helm of Fate. His body straightened, his aura intensifying as he prepared to unleash the power of Order itself. His voice, now purely that of Nabu, resonated with unwavering authority.

"Because if I do…"

Batman's sharp mind had already pieced it together. His analytical instincts had never failed him, and now, the horror of the truth dawned upon him with full force.

His eyes widened beneath the cowl. His voice, always calm and calculated, now carried something else—urgency.

"Superman!" he shouted, cutting through the tension like a blade. "Stop Doctor Fate!"

Superman, caught off guard, turned to Batman in confusion. "What?! But why—"

Batman's voice was firm, unrelenting. "Trigon's power is tied to Gotham itself! The Wrath of the Earth flows through him, meaning he is linked to the very land beneath our feet!" His words came fast, each syllable weighed with the gravity of their situation. "If the power of Order destroys him now, Gotham will be hit with the full force of that destruction!"

A terrible realization settled over the heroes.

Doctor Fate, in his divine voice, confirmed their worst fear.

"There are nearly 30 million civilians taking refuge beneath Gotham. If I erase Trigon's presence now, they will all perish in the process."

The battlefield fell Into complete silence.

Trigon, now fully immersed within Groudon's form, let out a deep, rumbling chuckle. His many eyes gleamed with satisfaction, his voice dripping with triumph.

"And that," he said slowly, relishing every word, "is why you cannot win."

The Justice League—Earth's greatest heroes—stood frozen, forced to face a truth they had never wanted to accept.

They could not defeat him.

Not without sacrificing millions of innocent lives.

Trigon had won.

A hero cannot defeat the devil.

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