A/N: This story is based on the 1990s and early 2000s DC Animated Universe, mainly Batman: The Animated Series, Superman: The Animated Series, and Justice League Unlimited.
It begins a little over a year before the Justice League is formed.
——— In the void, there was no ground, no sky or anything.
There was no sense of direction of place.
Yet somehow, a soul stood in it.
Across from it, a divine entity.
It did not possess a clear form; it simply was.
The soul clapped his hands once, as if concluding the meeting.
“Alright, no need for the incoming speech, You will say I can’t go back and since we are both clear how it came to this” he said.
“Let’s get into business.
You’re going to frame my death as a good thing, that is a rare opportunity, or something along these lines…skip it.
Just give me reality warping, make me super rich, and for the world…” He paused, already thinking ahead.
“Hmm…” The entity did not respond.
He began pacing anyway, as if the void had a floor to walk on.
“Let’s see.
A modern setting would be good and convenient like the one I lived in.
I want a simple world.
Low effort, high reward, you know?
I’ll just relax, live rich, maybe mess with some people for fun, that should be enough to make up for it.” “You interrupt me before I finish.” The voice did not echo.
It simply existed, forcing itself into everything.
“I won’t accept such insolence in…” “Chill,” the soul cut in, raising a hand casually.
“I’m saving you time and effort despite everything you did.
You give me powers, I live a new good life, and forget about you.
Now, where was I… ah right, maybe I’ll…” His words stopped.
His mouth moved, but nothing came out.
The void seemed to tighten, the entity’s presence shifting in a way that made something instinctive inside him recoil.
“I have had enough of you, insolent bastard.
I am your god.
I decide what goes, not you.
Whatever you think I am and whatever you think I should do, it is wrong.
You don’t know anything.” The soul’s confidence was gone.
“I have changed my mind about my original plans for you.
You gave me a fitting fate for you bastard.” Panic flickered the soul’s chest as he tried to speak again and failed.
The entity continued regardless.
“You want a reality-warping ability?
I will give you that.” Relief sparked in the soul.
“But with conditions.” It died just as quickly.
“You are not allowed to use it for your benefit arbitrarily.
You will live by working and serving others at all times.
You will carry the will of your master and if you fail, you are punished for it.” The god paused for a moment then added “But I am a fair god, you may ignore an order if it would directly harm you.” The god went silent as if enjoying the soul reaction before continuing again “If you remain without a master for more than one month, you will die and come to my hell, where I will enjoy torturing you.” The void seemed to darken further, as if acknowledging the promise.
“And as a bonus, for how well behaved you have been… you will begin as a nobody.
A rat in the streets.” A pause followed, almost deliberate.
“A much more fitting life for you.” His voice returned all at once.
“Isn’t this just being born without freedom?” he shot back immediately.
“Like a genie?
This is just a slavery with extra steps!” The answer came instantly.
“You earned this fate for all your transgressions.” The soul froze then spoke quickly with a bow “Oh great one.
I apologize.
I didn’t mean to offend.
Truly, I…” “You are thousands of years too late for an apology.” The void collapsed.
“Get lost.” There was no transition, no gentle fade.
One moment he existed in nothing, the next cold struck him first.
Then the smell, rot, dampness and stale trash.
He blinked, disoriented, standing in a narrow alleyway boxed in by cracked walls and trash.
He looked down.
Nothing.
He was completely naked.
“What the hell is this reincarnation?” His voice sounded thin, almost foreign to his own ears.
He ran a hand through his hair, short, uneven and dirty.
His body felt wrong.
Ribs pressed against pale skin, his limbs thin to the point of discomfort.
“this is not fair,” he muttered, glancing around the empty alley.
“People are way more insolent than me, and it is not like I am wrong about it.” A gust of wind slipped through the narrow space, and his body reacted instantly, shivering as the cold bit into him.
He looked down again, as if hoping reality had corrected itself.
It had not.
“I am a super malnourished, homeless, naked guy,” he said flatly.
“What the hell am I supposed to do here…” But his mind had some information, embedded like an instinct.
The structure of his ability, the limits imposed on it, the invisible framework he was now bound to operate within.
Reality warping to his immediate surroundings with the slavery contract.
He also can’t resurrect the dead nor kill or brainwash people.
He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to think.
“No arbitrary benefit,” he murmured.
Another gust of wind hit him.
“This should not count,” he decided firmly.
“This is not for me.
This is public service.
I am protecting society from seeing an ugly malnourished naked guy.” He raised his hand, focusing.
He needed something basic.
Just underwear.
Reality changed.
And then pain followed.
He collapsed to his knees instantly as something split through his head, a violent, crushing pressure that felt like his skull was being forced apart from the inside.
His vision blurred, his body trembling as the sensation overwhelmed him.
“AAAH..!” His fingers scraped against the concrete, grounding himself through sheer instinct.
“You petty bastard!!” he shouted hoarsely.
“You omnipotent and this is where you draw the line?
Underwear?
Really?
This is the hill you die on?” There was no answer.
Of course there wasn’t.
The pain lingered, pulsing in waves that refused to end quickly, before finally receding enough for him to breathe again.
He stayed there for a moment, hunched and shaking, before forcing himself upright.
“I need clothes,” he said, more to himself than anything else.
“This is absurd.” But now he understood.
If something as small as underwear triggered that response, then anything more substantial would only be worse.
He didn’t even dare to imagine what could happen to him.
This meant he needed to change how he approached it.
He said quietly.
“Fine.
You petty bastard” He needed to find away around this fucked up rules.
But a voice interrupted his thoughts.
“What the fuck happened to you?
They robbed you of everything except the underwear?
This place is getting worse by the day.” He turned his head slowly.
A burly man stood a few steps behind him, broad-shouldered, hardened face, a gun resting casually in his hand.
The burly man clicked his tongue.
“How the hell am I so unlucky today?
The only guy I find is a robbed and fucked bum.
Dammit.” [A rude robber.] The man thought Still half on his knees, the man in the alley blinked once and then smiled.
“Well,” he said, voice steadying, “this is your lucky day.” The robber’s expression flattened instantly.
“Get lost before I shoot you.” The man pushed himself up quickly, raising both hands in a placating gesture.
“Hold on, just hear me out.
I’m not a human.
I’m a genie.
I can grant you a wish.” The robber stared at him for a full second, then muttered, “Great.
A lunatic.” “I’m not,” the man said quickly.
“Let’s do this.
I’ll grant you two wishes as long as your first wish is to allow me to be presentable.
Clothes, basic dignity.
You say yes, and our contract is established.” The robber didn’t even bother hiding his lack of interest.
“Go on,” the man pressed, voice quick, persuasive.
“Just agree.
Try it.
Worst case?
I’m insane.
Best case?
You’re rich.
Statistically, you should be very interested right now.” The robber exhaled, already regretting the conversation.
“fine.
I agree.” The moment the words left his mouth, purple light flared.
It gathered around the robber’s hand, wrapping over it like a living mark before fading just as quickly.
The robber jerked, staring at his hand which had a mark now.
“What the…” “Great,” the man cut in smoothly.
“Now say you want me to be presentable so we can move to the next wish.” The robber hesitated, eyes flicking between his hand and the near-naked stranger in front of him.
“I want you to be presentable.” Reality bent.
The change was immediate.
The man’s posture straightened as if something invisible adjusted his structure.
His hair cleaned itself, dark strands falling neatly into place.
His body filled out, malnourishment vanishing as muscle settled under his skin, his height stretching just enough to command presence.
Fabric formed around him into a suit that fit as if it had always been his.
He adjusted the sleeve, testing the feel.
The robber stared.
“What the hell?” The man smiled faintly.
“I told you I’m a genie.
Right before I met you, I was dealing with a petty asshole who turned me into a malnourished homeless guy.
Can you imagine how horrible that is?” The robber blinked.
“Did someone waste a wish to do that?” The man’s expression didn’t change.
“You can’t imagine the weird shit people do.
I’ve seen it all.
Been through it all.
Trust me, you don’t want to see half the things I’ve seen.” He paused, tilting his head.
“You’re basically in heaven compared to that.” The robber fell silent, processing.
The man clapped once, light and controlled.
“Now, let’s move to your second wish.
Though I should mention, there are rules.
I can’t kill someone, can’t affect minds, all the usual genie limitations.
I can’t turn you into a king or rewrite the world completely.” He spread his hands.
“But if you want gold, money… I can give you a lot of it.” He leaned in just a fraction.
“But be careful.
Too much of something and it loses its value.
Inflation and all.
You don’t want that.
I have seen countries go bankrupt because of this kind of wish.” The robber opened his mouth, then closed it again, clearly out of his depth.
“What… what should I even ask for?” “Before that,” the man said, raising a finger, “Where are we?
And what’s the currency here?” The robber frowned.
“You don’t know where you are?” “The asshole who stripped me threw me here,” the man replied casually.
“I have zero clue.
But I consider not needing to learn a new language a lucky coincidence.” “Right… this is Gotham,” the robber said slowly.
“We use USD.” The man tilted his head.
“Gotham…” A pause.
“By any chance, do you have a guy in a bat costume going around here scaring people in the night?” The robber nodded.
“I see,” the man murmured.
“That petty bastard, he actually threw me into DC Gotham.
He wants me to have a fake life as well!!” The robber blinked again, increasingly unsure of what kind of situation he had stepped into.
“About my wish…” “Oh, right.” The man snapped back immediately.
“Sorry, we got sidetracked.” His hand moved to chin in a thinking pause as he said.
“I’d advise something like this: one billion dollars, stored in a foreign bank account under your name.
Fully legal, clean money.
You access it through a debit card with no limit.
That way, you avoid inflation, avoid suspicion, and live comfortably.” He added, almost as an afterthought, “I’ll naturally use your information, name, age, the usual to make it legitimate.
Any objection?” By now, the robber’s eyes were shining.
“That’s… that’s perfect,” he said quickly.
“Do it!” The man’s smile widened.
“Done.” At the exact same moment, a heavy metallic box fell from above without warning.
It struck the robber directly on the head.
There was a sickening, final impact.
The body collapsed instantly, the head completely crushed.
“I forgot to mention the ironic consequence… That’s why you don’t trust genies.” the man said.
The man stared at the scene for a second, his expression twisting into mild distaste.
“I probably should have made the case a little lighter,” he muttered.
“The damage is a bit excessive.” He stepped forward calmly while avoiding the pooling blood, crouched, and opened the metallic box.
Inside, neatly placed, was a sleek credit card.
He took it.
Stood.
Turned away.
“In your face, you petty god,” he said under his breath as he began walking out of the alley.
Pain exploded in his head.
He staggered mid-step, hand snapping up to clutch his skull as the now-familiar agony tore through him again.
Something etched itself into his mind.
New rules.
‘You cannot kill your master intentionally.’ ‘You cannot pretend to be a genie or any wish-granting being.’ At the same moment, the credit card in his hand vanished.
Gone.
Just like that.
He froze, breathing uneven, eyes narrowing as the pain slowly receded.
Then he exhaled through his teeth.
“You petty fucker.” ——— A/N: 1- Since it looks many don’t have patience.
God interference is not common nor a plot hole.
It will be explained slowly overtime in the future.
God appears in the first two chapters to set annoying restrictions before the actual story.
2- Characters can and will lie to each other.
Don’t take every word at face value and think it is changing the canon.
3- It is canon in DC comics and even mythologies that gods are selfish, petty, prideful, and idiotic (their brains wired for super complex technologies or magic only).