What is this Dimensional Chat???

The Darkest Knight, once Bruce Wayne, was no longer a man—he was a harbinger of despair, wielding the twisted powers of the Dark Multiverse. His empire stretched across the shattered remnants of reality, a kingdom of eternal night. Wherever his shadow fell, hope withered and died.

But not all light had faded.

From the ruins of a dying world, a warrior of defiance emerged—Anti-Crisis Wonder Woman. Unlike her original counterpart, she had been forged by crisis itself, infused with the divine power of Element X, her very existence a beacon against the darkness.

Through her Lasso of Truth, now infused with the raw might of the World Forge, she had created a link between all of history and the souls that shaped it. It was a torrent of Anti-Crisis energy, a force strong enough to tear through the Darkest Knight's domain.

Now, their paths converged.

The battleground was a twisted mockery of justice—a once-grand hall now desecrated by the Darkest Knight's rule. Stained glass that had once depicted heroes now showed only horror. Chains of dark matter coiled around ruined statues of fallen champions.

At the chamber's heart, he stood.

A foreboding figure, wreathed in endless shadow. His armor pulsed with dark energy, a nightmarish fusion of Bat and God, reality itself warping around him.

Anti-Crisis Wonder Woman stepped forward. Her golden armor gleamed against the darkness, her Lasso of Truth glowing with a light that could not be silenced.

"You've twisted the ideals of justice, Bruce," Diana said, her voice unwavering. "This world suffers because of your choices. I won't let you take another life."

A slow, mocking chuckle echoed from the shadows. The Darkest Knight grinned.

"You think you can stop me, Diana? You're just a flicker of light in an endless abyss. I have broken gods. I will break you just the same."

Without warning, he struck.

Darkness coiled around his arm like living tendrils, lashing toward her with unrelenting fury.

Diana reacted in an instant—her blade met the abyss. The God Killer Sword and her Golden Lasso burned against the dark, their clash igniting the chamber with a battle beyond mortal comprehension.

Every blow shattered the world around them. Every clash of sword and shadow sent shockwaves rippling through dimensions.

But even as she pushed forward, the Darkest Knight did not falter.

If anything—he laughed.

"You still don't understand, do you?" he sneered, his voice laced with something dangerous.

The shadows twisted. The darkness howled.

And then, he unleashed everything.

A maelstrom of pure darkness erupted from him, the embodiment of every nightmare, every fear, every tragedy across the multiverse. It drowned the battlefield, swallowing everything in a vortex of eternal night.

Diana did not retreat.

Instead, she reached deep within—the Amazon warrior, the goddess, the protector of all life.

With a single word, she called upon the spirits of the Amazons.

Their voices rang out through the Lasso, binding reality itself against the Darkest Knight's chaos.

The darkness recoiled.

For the first time—he staggered.

The shadows around him trembled, losing form. His monstrous eyes widened in disbelief. Was this… fear?

Diana raised her sword.

This was her moment.

She prepared to cast him into the heart of a dying red sun, where even his darkness would be obliterated forever.

But then—a presence.

A ripple in the abyss.

From the depths of darkness, a figure emerged.

A towering silhouette, cloaked in futuristic crimson armor, stepped forward. The metal rippled like smoke, as if its very existence flickered between dimensions.

A power unlike any she had faced before radiated from him.

Diana's grip on her sword tightened. "Who are you?"

The figure did not answer immediately. Instead, he walked forward without hesitation, moving past Diana—straight to the Darkest Knight.

The fallen Bat looked up, chuckling weakly.

"Heh… Why are you saving me, stranger?" he muttered, his voice strained. But there was something in his tone—a knowing recognition.

His dimming red eyes narrowed as he studied the figure.

And then—his grin widened.

"I see… I see it now… You're just like me."

The figure remained silent, his presence alone shifting the very air around them.

Diana's instincts screamed danger.

This was no ordinary being.

The Darkest Knight's smirk grew.

"She had her one chance to finish me. But it looks like Lady Luck is on my side."

The crimson figure finally spoke, his voice unnatural, rippling like a distorted echo.

"Leave him be, warrior."

Diana turned, instincts flaring, her grip tightening around the God Killer Sword as she faced the stranger cloaked in crimson, smoke-like armor.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice steady but ready to strike.

The figure did not answer. Instead, they walked right past her, ignoring her presence entirely.

They knelt beside The Darkest Knight, who lay weakened on the ruined battlefield, his breath ragged, his once-mighty shadows barely clinging to his form.

The stranger's voice was calm yet laced with an unsettling authority. "You're not finished yet, Darkest Knight. Your power is far too valuable to waste. And I have waited for this moment for a very long time."

A sudden wave of dark energy pulsed from the figure's hands.

Before The Darkest Knight could react, tendrils of living shadow erupted, coiling around his body like a serpent. His muscles seized, his breath hitched—his very essence being drained.

His crimson eyes widened as he felt his **own darkness being pulled back into him—**but not as he expected. It wasn't healing him. It was binding him.

"What... what are you doing?" he rasped, struggling against the unseen force. "Who the hell are you?"

The figure chuckled—a deep, layered sound, as if multiple voices spoke at once.

"I am a collector of powers, The Darkest," the figure replied, their words echoing ominously. "And you, Darkest Knight, are a prize worth taking."

The Darkest Knight's smirk wavered. He felt it now—this wasn't salvation. This was theft.

"You're not saving me," he snarled, struggling as his own shadows betrayed him, twisting around him tighter. "You're taking my power!"

"Correct."

The collector rose to their full height, now towering over The Darkest Knight, whose formidable presence had been reduced to a weakened husk.

"With your power, I will unleash a darkness unlike anything this multiverse has seen. You, in the end, will be nothing but a vessel. A shell."

The realization hit him like a blow—he was being hollowed out.

Diana moved.

Her golden Lasso of Truth flared to life, blazing like a miniature sun. "I won't let you do this!" she roared, lunging forward.

The collector didn't even look at her—they merely raised a hand.

A wall of pure darkness erupted, slamming her back. The impact sent her skidding across the shattered ground, her armor sparking against the cold stone.

"You should have known better than to interfere with forces beyond your comprehension," the figure said, their tone almost... amused.

Diana gritted her teeth, forcing herself up. "I don't need to comprehend it to stop it."

The collector turned back to The Darkest Knight, tightening their hold.

The last of his power slipped from him.

He shouted in fury, thrashing against the tendrils as his darkness bled away, siphoned into the crimson abyss of the collector's armor.

His entire body trembled—not with fear, but with rage.

"No!" The Darkest Knight snarled, his voice now hoarse. "I refuse to be your pawn!"

The collector smirked. "You already are, knight. This is your destiny."

And then—Diana struck.

Summoning every ounce of her strength, she lashed out with her Lasso of Truth.

The golden rope cracked through the darkness like lightning, severing the tendrils that bound The Darkest Knight. A blinding shockwave tore through the battlefield.

For an instant, the collector faltered.

For an instant—The Darkest Knight saw his chance.

"Assist me!" he roared, pushing against the last vestiges of his drained power.

Diana didn't hesitate.

She surged forward, channeling the might of the Amazons, the Old Gods, and the warriors who came before her into a single unbreakable force.

The Lasso's golden energy collided with the collector's darkness, creating a chain reaction that sent the shadows recoiling violently.

The Darkest Knight, weakened but far from broken, seized his moment. He reached deep, drawing on what little remained of his will.

And in a final defiant act—he forced his own darkness to collapse inward, cutting the connection.

The collector staggered back, their hold shattered.

A low growl escaped them. "Impossible...!"

For the first time—they had been denied.

The battlefield fell silent.

The collector stepped back, the air around them shifting unnaturally, their form already beginning to fade into the abyss.

But they weren't finished.

Their voice was venomous, laced with a promise of destruction.

"This isn't over, Darkest Knight."

Their crimson eyes burned as they turned to Diana.

"And you, Princess—if you continue to get in my way, I will take your power next."

A violent burst of energy erupted from them, forcing Diana and The Darkest Knight to shield themselves.

By the time the darkness settled—the collector was gone.

The battlefield was in ruins.

The Darkest Knight, breathing heavily, staggered but remained standing. His power was diminished—but not gone.

Diana stepped beside him, her golden armor shining even in the broken remnants of the Hall of Justice.

He turned to her, his crimson eyes still burning—but with something different.

Determination.

"I will find a way to reclaim my power," he said, his voice steadier now. "And we will stop that creature together."

Diana studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable.

"I don't know if I can trust you, Bruce," she admitted at last, "not after everything you've done."

She let the words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of history.

Then, her eyes flickered toward the shadows where the Collector had vanished.

"But that man is dangerous. He blindsided us today. He could do it again."

Her fingers curled into a fist.

"So, for now—we fight together."

She stepped forward, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Like the old times."

The Darkest Knight stiffened.

For so long, he had existed in solitude, drowning in his own abyss, believing himself beyond redemption.

But now—for the first time in eons—something stirred within him.

Not rage. Not hunger.

Something close to hope.

But in the distance—the storm was far from over.

To Be Continued…