The Dark of You ( DC/Overlord) [No Ainz/Nazarick]

[Stimpak Medic]

Disclaimer: No Nazarick/Ainz in this. Also, this is a friendship fic. Not a shipping fic.

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Prologue: Saving Carne Village

"Rao knows I tried. But broken and alone, I bowed to the beast inside. I turned into a monster. A wrecking ball in a world of porcelain. I broke my vows I made to myself, and everyone else. As sure a the sunlight that empowered me, I should not have been forgiven, and rightfully I have not been. But still, I will do what I can to right my horrible wrongs.

Sometimes I even scare myself with what I did. What I am capable of doing.

They call me Superboy Prime.

Right now, there's this lame Batman wannabe doing what a billion other villains have tried to do before him. Remake reality in his fancy.

So as I fight this Bat God who wishes to redo all of reality in his image, I can only think of one thing.

I can't go back, but I can go forward.

This is why I will defeat him. He is what I could be if I did not hold back. If I did not realize my deadly flaws.

We clash, and we are evenly matched. His crisis energy from all of time and space, versus my determination and unbridled power. They clash, each trying to overcome the other, but we cannot find closure to our conflict.

He offers me a universe where everything is how it was, but no. I won't falter. If such a place exists, he wouldn't touch it.

And so, I come to a final conclusion.

I must destroy his multiverse to weaken him severely. My fight isn't to beat him. We can't beat each other. However, I can do what only I can. Change the story. Turn his nightmare multiverse against him. Turn his narrative back at him, in one final attack.

I clench my fist, and the powers of all my love, my hope, my pain, my sorrow, and my fear condense into one power. A power that can alter even fate itself. I can't stop what I've already put into motion, and so I pull back my fist with the power to make things right. Then I release my punch, and all goes white.

---

Clark woke from what he assumed was a nightmare. Sweat poured off his forehead and every part of his body. It was a horrible feeling. Knowing something horrible had happened, but not knowing exactly what. The last thing he remembered was letting loose the strongest punch he had ever thrown at the Batman Who Laughs and the very essence of his dark multiverse.

He remembered the feeling of changing the past, present, and future of all those universes. Changing the very story itself, then nothing. Waking up here, wherever this was. It was as if he had left a DVD in his player before leaving the room for an hour, not knowing what had occurred whilst he was gone.

A yellow sun shone down on him. The bruises and lacerations from his multiverse-spanning battle slowly healed, and he stood from the thick green grass where he had been deposited. His solar armor, made from the Anti-Monitor's remains, was gone, and all he had on were the tattered bottoms of his costume and silver boots.

All around him were the sounds. The sounds of a living, breathing, real world.

He let out a breath he didn't even know that he had been holding in.

He clenched his right fist, extending his arm out, flexing his muscles, then stretching. His body felt incredibly tight. As if he were clenching his muscles excessively.

"Relax..." He said softly to himself, letting the noises and sensations slip by him like a sleek stone in a stream.

Slowly, everything seemed to come together. A vague memory flashed through his mind. A hooded figure in a gray robe. Red eyes, a thin gray body. Spiked bone protrusions and a row of sharp teeth.

"Doomsday!" Clark grit his teeth, grinding them against each other. Something wasn't right. Doomsday didn't have that powerset, and also, why did Doomsday not attack him? Instead, he sent him to this world.

No matter how he thought about it, it didn't make sense. Doomsday didn't do things like that. Doomsday didn't think this far. The Doomsday he knew about wasn't stupid, not by any proper sense of the word, but he still would not act like this. Something was dreadfully wrong with this whole situation.

Something bigger was happening, and he was left out of it. His nerd brain began working at full capacity.

Why would Doomsday do this? Doomsday must be trying to get him out of the way, throwing him into this universe. He could punch his way out of the universe. He could do that. But he wouldn't. Universe hopping without a guide or an anchor was excessively dangerous, and he wasn't that stupid as to try without a goal.

Another thought hit him like a right hook from the Monarch. Then it hit him again.

What if... What if the memory about Doomsday was fake? What if it had been planted there by someone? Sure, his mind was incredibly strong, and your average telepath or mind warper wouldn't have a shot in Hell at anything in his head, but if it was The Batman Who Laughs, with the powers of both Perpetua and Doctor Manhattan, that might be possible.

"Darn. Not enough information." Clark grumbled, clenching and unclenching his fist several times in front of him. It was a fist that could make real changes, but it was a fist he wouldn't use anymore if he couldn't help it. It was a power that was too dangerous, too volatile.

The sun was providing him with all the energy he was missing from his fight with the Bat God. It was slow, but it was all coming back. The power used to alter the very base information of reality, to change the very stories and narratives the Bat God had so carefully created, left him dry, but the sun would return that power. It was only a matter of time. A cut above his left eye sealed closed, and the dried blood flaked off and fell to the grass.

'I guess the first thing I have to do is find out just where I am, and what I should be doing.'

With that thought in mind, Clark began walking through the grasslands towards a forest in the distance. After a little more than twenty minutes, Clark found himself on a road to a village. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of men and women in their day-to-day work. There were no sounds of cars, trucks, televisions, or any electronics, for that matter. As he walked down the dirt path through the woods, he saw in the distance a small town poking its roofs through the trees and bushes. As the forest faded away somewhat, the ground made way for an open village square. However, something was dead wrong.

In the small village of stone and wood cottages, what looked like well-armed medieval soldiers were slaughtering the townsfolk.

'I gotta stop this.' Clark's mind was slower than his body.

With a loud Crack of the sound barrier breaking, Clark shot forward as a blur.

Within no more than a second, the entire group of attacking soldiers were unconscious and disarmed in a pile in the small town center.

Clark hovered above them, arms crossed while looking down at his good work.

Slowly, but cautiously, the surviving villagers stepped out of their hiding places, only to see the strange sight of a young man of barely nineteen years of age floating above a large pile of slumped disarmed soldiers. The soldiers' armor and weapons were tossed into a pile farther away from them, their weapons snapped and crunched into small, palm-sized balls.

The young man had no shirt, revealing his pale, incredibly muscular, toned torso and arms. He had short black hair, blue eyes, blue tight material that might have been full chaps, and silver boots.

It was so absurd. One second, the soldiers were attacking them, and then in the blink of an eye, they were defeated by this strange young man. Was he a wizard? He had to be, as only wizards and their strange magics could do such a thing.

An old man cautiously and slowly walked out of what looked to be the town hall, which really was no more than a somewhat larger cottage.

"Greetings and our Deepest thanks, young man. I am the chief of this Carne Village. Are you a wizard from E-Rantel sent to help us?" The man, with an elderly body and brown hair, said, stopping at a polite distance from Clark. The man wore a fiber brown shirt with brown pants. Gray boots were tightly laced on his feet, and his body was firm, likely from many years of hard work.

Clark floated down in front of him. The man seemed to be good, and he had an almost Pa Kent air to him, so Clark had a good impression of him.

Landing and stepping forward, hand out for a handshake, Clark spoke.

"Nice to meet you. My name is Clark Kent. You can also call me Prime. I'm not a wizard, just very far from home haha." Clark finished with an awkward smile and weak laugh.

"Well met, Mr Kent. I hope you don't take offense to my asking this, but are these soldiers still alive? I don't think the survivors of this attack can handle them if they wake up."

"None taken. These guys won't be waking up for a day or so. Enough for me to figure out what's going on. Would you mind talking inside? It's not that being outside is bad... It's that I'm not good with attention." Clark responded, giving another awkward smile before letting the chief's hand go.

"Of course, Mr Kent. Is there anything that I can give you in return for saving our village? We don't have much, but I'll do my best." The old man replied, turning towards the hall. Of course, he was a little nervous about the soldiers waking up, but if this powerful traveler said they wouldn't wake up, then he wouldn't question their savior further.

Inside the cottage, Clark and the man sat down at the table. The man stood up and bowed to Clark. Now that we have time, I would like to thank you again, good sir. We don't have much silver, but I will be sure to gather it for you if you want it." The bowing man said.

Clark was made uncomfortable by this. He didn't want this man, who reminded him of a younger Johnathan Kent, to be bowing to him like this.

"You don't need to bow to me. I did it cause it's the right thing to do. If you want to pay me back for it, then tell me about this place. I'm from very far away, and I'm like a fish out of water. Haha." Clark laughed and ran his hand through his hair.

He was trying hard to ignore the nagging thought in the back of his head that this was all happening for a reason. That he was dancing to someone else's tune. Yet there was nothing he could do about it just yet.

"Of course. Can you wait for a moment? My wife is still hiding. We can have our talk with her, she used to make maps in her youth, and she would know the world more than an old shepherd turned chief like me." He said with some reminiscence in his voice.

" Oh, yes, let her know it's alright now."

"Thank you, Mr Kent." The elderly man replied, walking into another room down a short hallway. The sounds of a hatch being opened, followed by the conversation of the man and an elderly woman, could be heard by Clark.

The two returned moments later. The lady, who had a thin face, long brown hair and gray eyes, wearing a blue evening dress, bowed to him.

"Thank you for saving me, my husband, and everyone. I dread what would have happened otherwise." She said, and her voice, unlike her husband's thick voice, was light and calm.

"No problem, Mrs. I am Clark Kent from New England. It's far away from here. Tell me, who were those soldiers?" Clark asked.

"From what little we've seen, they're from the Empire. Our Carne Village is on the border zone between the Re-Estize Kingdom and the Baharuth Empire. Not to mention the nearby Great Forest of Tob. That's where all the monsters are." The lady said, looking to her husband for confirmation.

"Yes, that's what the lumberjack and trappers report. I heard that the Goblins have been getting restless these days. Too many adventurers are killing them. But good riddance, I'd say get the job done and kill em all already. Too many merchants and adventurers died from those nasty things."

"I agree, they arerereven attacked our herbalist transport wagon. Thankfully, the adventurers fought them off." The woman agreed.

'Oh, so it's one of those worlds.' Clark though. One where, unless subdued by a greater force, the goblin menace would be a serious issue for the day-to-day lives of farmers and traders.

It was like one of those old-school RPG games, before everything became morally gray. That was better for him. He didn't want to have to think if he was doing something bad when obliterating monsters, and he didn't wanna play goblin babysitter for every goblin out there. Best to just get rid of them.

He didn't particularly hate non-human races. Elves were cool, so were dwarves. Everyone enjoyed Tolkien and Advanced Dungeons and Dragons second edition, but goblins and ogres were kill on sight for him unless there was a really good reason not to. A really good reason.

"Let me know if you need some goblin extermination. I'll do you that favor before I hit the road again." Clark said, standing up and punching his palm softly.

" If you would, we would deeply appreciate it. Gathering herbs gets really scary with those around." The lady continued.

"Alright, can you give me a place to stay the night? I'm thinking of resting here tonight before leaving tomorrow to explore. I feel like there's a purpose to be had here." Clark responded with some hope he could get a room.

" Of course. We'll make room for you any time you come... Now, pardon my asking, but what are you going to do about the soldiers?" The chief asked, putting his hands behind his back and preparing for an unpleasant answer.

But that unpleasant answer never came.

Prime thought for a moment.

"Good question. I'll probably just fly them back to their country's capital. I'm not looking to start killing people as soon as I arrive here, unless I have to, I guess." Prime shrugged. He could kill them all; he could do that. But he didn't want to if he didn't have to. He had done enough killing of people weaker than him.

In a strange way, this was his chance to start fresh, where nobody knew where he was. He wanted to be like his hero, Superman. Not Zod. Zod had his moments, but he was pretty lame. Superman didn't kill people unless he had to. Monsters were a different story, though. He was pretty liberal with their deaths. After all, he wasn't your Grandpa's Superman.

He was Superboy Prime, and he had his own code. He was a Superman, but he was his own man, with his own systems.

And right now, deep down, all he cared about was how good it felt to be alive.