Pain and Rex were old friends by now. But this was something completely different. It wasn't the agony of a broken jaw or a bullet wound. This was sneakier. Like rust, it sneaked in, slowly eating away at him from the inside.
His body was acting strange. He could feel it, the beat of his heart pounding with something off. Ever since the fight with the Unchained had forced him to heal, something had broken. Or maybe it had cracked. It didn't matter. He wasn't invincible, just unstable. Great, progress.
He stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror of the safehouse bathroom. Shirt off, his skin crawled with faint, twisted crimson veins that pulsed like a heavy metal heartbeat. Not normal. Not human. Not even Devil Trigger territory. This was a new, unwanted mutation, and it sure didn't ask for his permission.
He glared at himself, lost in the freak show until Evelyn's voice cut through the silence.
"You hiding from yourself again?"
He didn't bother to look at her. "Not hiding, doc. Just thinking."
She stepped closer, arms crossed, giving him that look. Fresh bandages were on her side, but her eyes were sharp enough to cut glass. The woman never quit, no matter how injured she got.
"Since when do you think, Devil Boy?"
"That's the issue. Lately, I can't stop thinking."
He finally faced her. Forget the mirror. "Level with me, Evelyn. How long until I'm not me anymore?"
She took her time to answer. She stepped forward, close enough that their reflections blurred together in the broken glass.
"You're scared."
He snorted. "Nah."
"Liar."
He tried to laugh, but it came out hollow. "Look who's been around me too long."
She pressed on. "You think I don't see it? Every fight, every time you barely get by, you lose a piece of yourself. You're so busy breaking their chains that you don't notice you're making your own."
God, he hated that she was right. Dominion wanted to mold him into their monster. Lex wanted him on a leash. The League had him under a microscope. And him? He was turning into something completely different—but it didn't feel like a victory.
It felt like he was slipping away.
"Don't get to choose how I evolve, doc."
"Bullshit."
He blinked. "What?"
"You're Rex. The guy who spits in the face of anyone who tries to cage him. Now you're telling me you'll just let this happen?"
He threw his arms up. "What do you want from me, Evelyn? I fight, I win, I bleed, but it never ends. They keep coming—bigger, meaner. I'm just one guy."
"You're more than that." She poked him in the heart. "You're the only one not playing by their rules."
Her voice softened, but her stare could melt steel. "You can't check out now. Not after all this."
He closed his eyes, letting out a breath that felt like it had been stuck for years.
"You know the worst part? Sometimes I can't tell if I'm fighting them or myself."
She grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at her. "Then let me remind you."
The air crackled, not with tension, but with something real, human.
She wasn't saving him. She was pulling him back from the edge.
"I don't care how much you change or how many powers you obtain on," she said. "You're still Rex. The stubborn, cocky pain-in-the-ass who drives me crazy."
He actually smiled, feeling it for once.
"But you're also the guy who stood between me and a bullet. The man who never bends. Don't start now."
For the first time in days, the chaos in his head quieted. It was still there, sure. But it felt quieter, as if someone had finally found the volume control.
He grabbed her hand, feeling grounded, just for a moment.
"Thanks, doc. You're way better at pep talks than I am."
"Someone has to be." She grinned, stepping back. "Now throw on a shirt, showoff. Nobody's impressed."
He flexed with fake swagger. "You sure?"
She rolled her eyes. "I've got syringes, Rex."
"Message received."
Later, in the safehouse "war room." Really just a battered table buried in papers, gadgets, and enough caffeine to take down a horse. Gotham's grid flickered in holograms, red zones practically shouting for attention.
Evelyn traced a line across the chaos. "Dominion's not backing off. They've sped things up. You rattled their cage."
"Good. Maybe they'll stop hiding."
She shook her head. "Nope. They'll just bring out the heavy artillery. Lex is laying low, but don't kid yourself—he's still in the game."
Rex leaned back, boots on the table, hands behind his head. Classic.
"So, what's the plan?"
Her eyes locked onto his—sharp, dangerous. "We hit first."
He raised an eyebrow. "You mean offense?"
"No, Rex. I mean demolition. One piece at a time. You've been on defense long enough. Time to flip the script."
"Now you're speaking my language." But her next words hit harder than he expected.
"You need to evolve, Rex. But on your terms. You can't wait for them to trap you again."
He sat up, the grin fading into something serious. "I'm not taking their Catalyst, Evelyn. You know that."
"I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to choose your evolution. You don't need their shortcuts. You never did."
He nodded, absorbing her words like truth. She was right. He wasn't done evolving. But it wasn't going to be through shady deals and artificial power-ups. He would earn it the only way he knew how. Through grit. Through scars. Through sheer, stubborn defiance.
The night stretched on. Plans were made. Targets set. But in the midst of the tactical prep, their bond grew stronger. No speeches, no theatrics. Just two people sitting in the eye of the storm, ready to tear it apart from the inside.
As dawn approached, Rex stood by the window, watching the city's first light claw its way through the smog. Evelyn joined him, leaning against the frame.
"You ever wonder what it's like to just…stop?" she asked quietly.
"Every day," he admitted.
"Would you, if you could?"
He thought about it. The fights, the scars, the endless cycle of conflict. Then he thought about her. The anchor. The spark that kept him from losing himself.
"Nah," he said, smirking. "I'd be bored out of my mind."
She laughed, soft and genuine. "Figures."
They stood in silence, letting the city breathe around them.
Rex ignored the system message, focusing on the present. He wasn't just reacting anymore. The next move was his. And the Dominion wouldn't see it coming.