Injustice: Gods Among Us Damian Wayne Mga Nobela at Kwento

"A mercenary-for-hire named Damian. Former special forces. He is wanted in three countries, but not officially connected to Fernando or any of his cohorts on paper." Damian. I swallowed. "He’s dead?" "He burned in the mansion. Along with the rest." I stared at the warehouse. Damian had been caught in the crossfire. A paid mercenary, dragged into a war he didn’t belong to. Just like Michael was now. "He didn’t deserve that," I said quietly. "You knew him?" "Not well. But enough to know he wasn’t supposed to end like this. Andrew used him. Like everyone else." The Chief was quiet for a moment.

Hearing Wayne's words, Damien immediately stood up and walked to Wayne. "Don't expel them? What's the use of keeping them? If they tell an outsider about me so casually, shouldn't I fire them?" Wayne raised his eyebrows and looked at Damien. "They, they did not told the outsiders that I'm not an outsider." "Not an outsider? Is he an inside person? Oh, I know." Wayne looked at Damien and said this sentence with a smile. Then he turned around and sat down in front of the desk. He began to read the documents, leaving Damien alone in a daze.

"Tutti voi, sì, cazzo, tutti voi mi avete deluso. Damien ha ucciso i nostri uomini. È entrato in casa mia e ha preso qualcuno vicino a me. Siete tutti un branco di codardi senza valore. Non ho accettato di gestire un fottuto asilo nido, (You all, yes fuck all of you have disappointed me. Damien has killed our men. He came into my home and took someone close to me. You're all a bunch of worthless cowards. I didn’t agree to run a fucking crèche,)" I began, glaring at everyone.

“What do we do now?” Damian didn’t answer immediately. His mind raced, jaw tight. “Tell the delegate…” he began, voice low, steady, but his eyes dark as fire. “…to make the Wilson server slow down.” The command hung heavy in the air. Everyone froze. No one moved. Then Damian turned away, his reflection caught in the glass sharp, powerful, haunted. He whispered to himself, “What the hell are we all becoming?” Outside, thunder cracked over the city skyline, and somewhere across town, Aria’s laptop pinged a new notification lighting up the screen.

“You really think this ends with you playing the hero? You always were arrogant. But here’s the problem—you can’t shoot me without starting a war. And we both know how much you hate chaos.” I barely breathed. My wrists ached from the rough grip of one of Evan’s men, but I refused to let them see my fear. I had learned something about Damian in the past few months—he never made empty threats. “Damian,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. His eyes flicked to mine for a fraction of a second, but it was enough. There was something there—something raw, something desperate. Then everything happened at once. Damian fired. The gunshot roared through the room, echoing off the marble walls. E

The fourth gun man asked. “No! I would never betray my brother for a cunt!” He yelled. I gestured for the fourth gun man to place the gun directly on Damian’s palm to intensify the pain. Nobody calls my whore a cunt but me. Damian yelled in pain. What a shameful sight to behold. The last gun man placed the gun on the side of Damian’s head, ready to blow his brain off. “Damian Fernandez you have been charge with planning a usurper against the mafia king Diego Fernandez by using his whore Valentina as a tool. Do you plead guilty?” The fifth gun man asked.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, but the place was nearly empty, save for an older man reading a newspaper in the corner. Damian sat at a small table by the window, his expression serious as always. He was in his late forties, with sharp features and graying hair at his temples. He looked up as Lena approached, motioning for her to sit. “What’s going on?” Lena asked, lowering her voice as she sat across from him. Damian glanced around, ensuring they weren’t being watched, before he spoke. “I’ve been talking to someone on the inside—a guy who’s been reluctant to come forward until now. He’s deep within the law enforcement apparatus that the network’s been influencing. And he

Lucian Moretti. The seats smelled like leather and danger. I curled into the corner, hugging my knees, tears finally spilling down my cheeks. The driver didn’t look back. He didn’t ask questions. Maybe that was the perk of being owned by someone like Lucian—silence wasn’t just expected, it was survival. My phone buzzed again. Lucian Moretti: They see you leave? I sniffled, typed back. Elena: Front row seats. Aria looked like she swallowed glass.

Alpha Damien replied like he was speaking to an old friend. " How does it feel to be helpless? I promise you that searching for us is a waste of time. I can only be found when I want to. Your friends can try their hacking prowess. I am way smarter than that." Wayne boasted and erupted into an evil laughter. " What exactly fo you want? Didn't you say you wanted Zeta. Where is Adrien?" " None of your business. Did you think I was going to truly return Adrien? I don't want to say it but that's fucking dumb." Wayne said.

“Not only did you get yourself badly injured, you failed on the most important mission ever! I should have put Rick as the leader not you, then maybe then, the result won’t end up in death” He roared walking back and front in one line. Damien’s head was on fire. Not only had they failed to deliver those new sex slaves and prostitute to Chris, they also lost tons able bodied men! Those men were his best friends and he was supposed to let it slide like that? Damien fisted his knuckles and threw a punch on the wall. He kept on going like that until blood gushed out from his hands. He bit his lips and rolled his back on the wall.