DC X LOTM: A Beyonder in DC

The peak of the Himalayan stronghold stood shrouded in the cold embrace of dawn. The air was sharp, biting into flesh like a blade, but Alex Kent barely felt it. He had endured worse during the Trial of the Mountain, where the League of Assassins had forced him to traverse treacherous, frozen terrain without supplies, weapons, or assistance. He had survived, proving his worth.

Now, he stood within the heart of the League's hidden sanctuary, surrounded by assassins who watched him in silence.

The chamber was carved from the mountain itself, its stone walls adorned with torches that cast flickering shadows across the gathered warriors. Ornate banners, marked with the League's insignia, hung from the towering pillars. At the center of it all sat Ra's al Ghul, his piercing emerald eyes studying Alex with an unreadable expression.

The leader of the League reclined upon an ancient throne, his fingers steepled. He had seen many warriors attempt to earn their place among his ranks. Most had failed. Alex, however, had not only survived but had done so with a level of cunning and skill that set him apart.

Beside Ra's stood Talia al Ghul, her arms crossed, her gaze sharp as a blade. She had been watching him closely since he arrived, testing his limits, analyzing his strengths. Now, she observed with a faint smirk, as if amused by what was about to unfold.

Alex remained still, his posture relaxed but not careless. He had spent years pretending to be something he was not—this was no different. The League believed they were inducting a new assassin, another blade in the dark.

But in truth, he was here for far more than that.

Ra's finally broke the silence.

"You have proven yourself worthy," he declared, his voice calm yet commanding. "Few survive the Trial of the Mountain. Even fewer do so without breaking. You are one of those few, Kane."

Alex inclined his head slightly, just enough to acknowledge the compliment without appearing overly eager. "I did what was necessary."

A flicker of amusement crossed Ra's' face. "A true assassin understands necessity. Strength alone is not enough. Discipline. Willpower. Loyalty. These are the true marks of one who serves the League."

At his signal, Talia stepped forward, holding a ceremonial dagger. Its curved silver blade gleamed in the torchlight, the intricate engravings on the hilt marking it as an artifact of the League's ancient traditions.

"Kneel," Ra's commanded.

Alex hesitated for the briefest moment—long enough for Talia to notice, but not long enough to arouse suspicion—before lowering himself onto one knee. He kept his movements controlled, measured.

Talia extended the dagger toward him.

"This blade represents your commitment," she said, her voice smooth. "Your loyalty to the League of Assassins. Once you take this oath, there is no turning back."

Alex reached out, his fingers closing around the hilt. The metal was cold against his skin, its weight familiar yet symbolic. He met Ra's' gaze.

"I swear," he said evenly, "to serve the League of Assassins. To uphold its code. To bring death to those who stand in its way."

Ra's studied him for a long moment. Then, slowly, he smiled.

"Rise, Kane."

Alex stood.

"You are now one of us," Ra's declared. "Welcome to the League."

A murmur spread through the assembled assassins, an acknowledgment of his acceptance. Some regarded him with respect. Others with suspicion.

Alex tightened his grip on the dagger.

He had taken the first step. Now, the real game began.

The Training Begins

The days that followed were brutal.

Even after proving himself, the League did not grant him rest. Each morning began before sunrise, with relentless drills that pushed his body to its limits.

Combat training was overseen by the League's most skilled warriors. Alex sparred against multiple opponents at once, forced to adapt to unpredictable attacks. His reflexes were tested, his endurance pushed beyond human limitations.

He was careful.

Too much skill would draw attention. Too little would invite doubt.

So, he allowed himself to improve at a believable pace. He took hits when necessary, stumbled just enough to appear mortal. The League was watching, and he could not afford mistakes—not the wrong kind, at least.

Talia, of course, was always watching him closely.

"You fight well," she observed one evening after a particularly grueling session. "But your technique lacks refinement."

Alex smirked, wiping sweat from his brow. "Or maybe I just don't like fighting fair."

Talia raised an eyebrow. "An assassin should never fight fair. We fight to win."

"Then I'm already ahead of the lesson."

She chuckled. "Perhaps."

They circled each other, the tension between them growing. Alex knew she was testing him, pushing for weaknesses—not just in his fighting style, but in his mind.

He gave her nothing.

The League's First Assignment

One week into his training, Alex was summoned to Ra's al Ghul's personal chamber.

The room was vast, its stone walls lined with ancient scrolls and relics. At its center stood a grand table, maps spread across its surface.

Ra's stood before it, studying a parchment depicting Gotham City.

"You have survived your training," he said without looking up. "Now, it is time for your first mission."

Alex stepped closer. "What do you need me to do?"

Ra's tapped a name written in bold ink—Elias Thorn.

"A traitor," Ra's said. "A man who once served the League but has since betrayed us. He sells our secrets to the highest bidder. We cannot allow such disloyalty to go unpunished."

Alex nodded. "You want him dead."

"More than that," Ra's said, finally looking at him. "I want you to make an example of him. The world must know that betrayal has consequences."

Alex understood immediately. This wasn't just an assassination. It was a message.

"Where is he?"

"Gotham," Ra's said. "He hides behind his wealth and his guards, believing himself untouchable. Prove him wrong."

Alex tilted his head slightly. "When do I leave?"

Ra's smiled faintly. "Tonight."

Alex gave a slow nod. "Consider it done."

As he turned to leave, Ra's spoke again.

"And Kane," he said smoothly, "do not disappoint me."

Alex smirked over his shoulder. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Gotham City – The Hunt Begins

Gotham was a world away from the frozen peaks of the Himalayas.

The city pulsed with life, neon lights illuminating its streets while shadows stretched long between its towering skyscrapers. Crime thrived in the alleys, whispered deals exchanged in the dead of night.

Alex moved unseen through the rooftops, dressed in dark tactical gear, his hood pulled low. The League's robes would only draw attention—he needed to be a ghost, unnoticed and unstoppable.

Elias Thorn's penthouse stood at the heart of Gotham's underworld. Guards patrolled the perimeter, their weapons at the ready. They were trained, but predictable.

Alex observed their patterns, tracking movements. Too many guards at the entrance. Too many eyes.

A frontal assault would be foolish.

Instead, he slipped into the shadows, teleporting through a blind spot near the building's ventilation system. A quiet infiltration.

Inside, the corridors were dimly lit, the muffled sound of conversation filtering through the walls.

Alex moved swiftly. Guards fell before they even realized they were under attack—silent strikes, pressure points, quick takedowns. Within minutes, the path to Thorn's office was clear.

The door was locked.

Alex placed a hand against it, sensing the mechanism inside. A simple lock.

Click.

The door swung open.

Thorn sat behind his desk, swirling a glass of whiskey, oblivious to the danger.

Alex stepped inside. "Busy night?"

Thorn's eyes widened. He reached for a gun—

Too slow.

Alex was already there, twisting the weapon from his grasp and slamming him against the desk.

"W-wait!" Thorn gasped. "I can—"

Alex pressed the dagger to his throat. "You sold out the League."

Thorn trembled. "It—it was just business! I can fix it—"

Alex leaned in. "Not my problem."

Thorn barely had time to scream before the blade silenced him.

Blood pooled onto the desk.

Alex exhaled slowly, wiping the dagger clean.

The League would be satisfied.

But he wasn't here to serve them.

This was just the beginning.

-----------------------------------------------------------GIVE ME MORE POWER STONES!

Also for anyone's confusion no the League doesn't know mcs true identity. Its a mistake on my part. I am just to lazy to edit this 😅