Glass shattered into a thousand shimmering shards as Batman and Red Hood smashed through the cathedral-like window of the League's stronghold. The moonlight pierced the dense shadows of the chamber, illuminating a horrifying sight below:
Ra's al Ghul lay crumpled on the obsidian floor, blood trailing from his mouth, nose, and an eye swollen shut. His regal robes were torn, stained crimson. Above him, straddling his chest like a rabid animal, was Rex—no longer just the detective, no longer even Nightwing. His fists were raw, knuckles split open, his chest heaving with a rage that did not belong to the man they once knew.
Batman froze. Red Hood raised his gun but didn't fire.
Alfred's voice crackled through Batman's comms: "What's happening, sir?"
Batman didn't answer. He couldn't. Because this—this was not the Rex they came to save.
—
Ten Minutes Earlier…
Rex collapsed to his knees as the illusion of the third trial dissolved around him. The walls of a fabricated prison faded into firelight and incense smoke. The weight of a hundred years of suffering clung to his skin like ash. His eyes were red, not just from exhaustion—but from something deeper. Something unchained.
He had relived every failure.
Every person he couldn't save.
Every friend who died.
And then—he had seen it. That one thing he had buried: the face of his brother, screaming for help as flames devoured their home. And he, young Rex, too afraid to go back in.
"I'm sorry…" he whispered to no one.
Ra's al Ghul stood before him, watching, calm as ever. "You have seen your truth, Rex Mallory. The part you've hidden even from yourself. Now… who are you?"
But Rex didn't answer. He just moved—with a roar that echoed like a cannon shot, he lunged at Ra's, tackled him to the floor. Fists flew in brutal rhythm, wild and primal. The al Ghul's guards reached for their blades—but Ra's raised a hand.
"Let him," Ra's said, even as a tooth rattled from his jaw. "This is exactly what I needed to see."
Rex didn't hear him. Or maybe he did—and didn't care. The trial had unlocked something ancient. Something vicious. His detective's mind was still there, buried under the tidal wave of rage—but it couldn't save him now.
"You made me relive every hell I've crawled out of," Rex growled. "And now you want me to what? Kneel?!"
Ra's spat blood and smiled. "I want you to understand."
Rex's next punch snapped his head back.
"You're a monster!" Rex shouted.
Ra's coughed, his breathing shallow. "And so are you. But monsters make the best warriors."
The League's assassins lined the perimeter like shadows, unmoving.
Rex raised his bloody fist for another blow—but that's when Batman and Red Hood burst through the window.
—
Now
"Rex!" Batman's voice was hard, commanding. "Enough!"
Rex froze mid-swing, chest rising and falling like a storm. His eyes flicked up to Batman—something broke in his expression. Confusion. Recognition. Shame.
He looked down at his fist… trembling over Ra's al Ghul's broken face.
"I…" he muttered. "I wasn't—I didn't…"
Jason moved forward cautiously. "Okay. Let's put the psycho down before he resurrects again."
Ra's, bleeding but grinning, coughed wetly. "Too late, Todd. This one's more fun than the last Nightwing."
Batman crouched beside Rex, gripping his shoulder. "Rex. You made it through the trial. But you can't lose yourself to it."
"I wasn't myself…" Rex whispered. "But maybe I am now."
Batman's eyes narrowed.
Ra's laughed behind them, spitting blood. "You still don't see it, do you, Detective? I chose you. Not because you were Nightwing's replacement. But because you're what Nightwing could never be: untethered. Relentless. Free."
Rex stood slowly. His fists were still shaking.
"Then you made a mistake," he said.
"Did I?" Ra's grinned, even from the floor. "You came through every trial. Your past. His past. And now, this—violence. You've tasted it, and you didn't hesitate."
Batman helped Rex away from the bleeding man. "You're not his puppet. You're more than what he tried to make you."
The League's assassins parted, forming a silent corridor.
"Leave," Ra's coughed. "Take your fractured little bat-family and go."
Rex turned back. "This isn't over."
"Oh, but it is," Ra's smiled. "Because now you know. You're not Rex. You're not Nightwing. You're something else entirely."
—
The rain was cold but cleansing. Gotham stretched out below, a jagged sea of towers and mist, alive with restless lights. Rex stood at the edge, wind tugging at his torn cape. Batman stood beside him, silent, solid.
Behind them, Red Hood waited near the Batwing, arms crossed. Barbara sat inside, watching, eyes weary but hopeful.
"You saw what I did," Rex finally said. His voice was low, uncertain. "What I almost became."
Batman's jaw tightened beneath the cowl. "You were pushed beyond the brink. Ra's designed that trial to break you. But you didn't kill him."
Rex looked down at his bruised knuckles. "I wanted to. That scares me more than anything."
"You held the line."
"No. I didn't," Rex said, turning to face him fully. "Not the way he would've. Not the way Nightwing would have."
Batman stepped forward. "You are not him. And that's not a weakness."
The silence between them stretched. Thunder rumbled over the city.
"I can't wear his name anymore," Rex said. "Not after everything. He deserves better."
Batman didn't protest. He only watched as Rex stepped forward, his silhouette cutting into the night like a blade.
"I'm not the man I was," Rex said, his voice gaining strength. "Not Rex Mallory. Not Nightwing. I've seen both of their ghosts. I carry them. But from now on—"
He turned, eyes hard with conviction.
"Call me Darkwing."
The name hung in the air, sharp and final.
Not a shadow of Nightwing. Not a remnant of Rex.
Something new.
Something forged.
Batman stared at him for a long moment… then gave a single nod of approval.
From the cockpit, Barbara whispered the name under her breath: "Darkwing…"
And far below, the city kept breathing — unaware that something new had risen to protect it. Someone born of fire, tempered by truth.
Darkwing.
Not a legend reborn.
A legend remade.