Author's Note:
Let me say this upfront—I didn't skip the upload of any chapters, so don't worry!
Just dive into this one—I promise it's going to be an interesting ride. Can't wait to hear what you think!
...
Inside the deep, metallic silence of the Batcave, the only source of illumination was the cold glow of multiple monitors casting their light over Bruce Wayne's face.
The cowl was off, tossed aside without care. His usually collected expression was strained with conflicting thoughts, a storm hidden behind the steely blue of his eyes.
On the massive central screen, the news blared with jubilant headlines.
> "BREAKING NEWS: Joker Banished to the Phantom Zone — Gotham Breathes Again!"
The news anchor's voice trembled with passion, almost celebratory.
> "This day may be marked in history as the beginning of Gotham's new era. The Joker, the Clown Prince of Crime, is no more. Not killed—but banished to an interdimensional prison known as the Phantom Zone, an act spearheaded by the Justice League… or rather, by Ethan Carter."
Bruce's jaw tightened.
Another channel. Same story.
> "...It is confirmed—after the League's controversial yet unanimous vote, the Joker has been removed from the earthly realm. Forever. The streets of Gotham tonight are louder than New Year's Eve..."
He clicked again. His eyes didn't blink as he watched GNN News.
> "This just in—confirmed reports from the Justice League: the Joker has been banished to the Phantom Zone. After decades of terror, death, and chaos, the Clown Prince of Crime is finally gone."
The anchorwoman smiled brightly.
> "And yes, you heard that right. Gone. Not imprisoned, not killed… but removed from our world entirely. This action, led by none other than Justice League's strongest—and arguably most mysterious—member, Ethan Carter."
The screen shifted to an aerial shot of Gotham's Narrows, where people were lighting fireworks, some holding banners that read "Gotham Day of Peace", "No More Joker", and "Thank You, Ethan!"
Another report began on DCN (Daily Central News).
> "Celebrations are underway all across Gotham City. Citizens are calling this the dawn of a new age. Streets are filled with cheers, bars are giving out free drinks, and online forums have exploded with messages of relief and joy."
A reporter appeared live on the streets of Park Row, where people gathered as if it were New Year's Eve.
> "I'm standing here with several Gotham residents celebrating tonight's news. Sir, how do you feel?"
A heavyset man with a toothy grin raised his drink.
> "This is the best day of my life! Joker's gone, baby! Banished! Like some comic book villain!"
Another woman chimed in, her eyes teary.
> "My brother died during the gas attacks three years ago. He was just sixteen. This… this feels like closure."
On The Meta Report, the screen split between three pundits:
A defense analyst
A political commentator
And a famous ex-villain turned motivational speaker, Harley Maxwell.
> "Let's call it what it is," the analyst said. "This is justice in a new form. The system failed repeatedly. If anything, Ethan Carter showed us what the League is capable of when bureaucracy doesn't hold it back."
The political commentator shook her head.
> "But is that good? What happens when we let a group of enhanced individuals decide who stays and who gets removed from the planet? That's not justice—that's tyranny in disguise."
Harley Maxwell laughed.
> "Listen, I was a villain. I cleaned up. But if you ask me whether Joker deserved a cosmic time-out? Hell yes."
Bruce's fingers twitched. Every screen repeated it.
All with the same message.
"Joker Banished to Phantom Zone."
"Ethan Carter — Savior of Gotham?"
"Phantom Zone Justice: The Future of Peacekeeping?"
"A Day of Justice."
"Peace at Last."
Same story. Different anchors. But all singing the same tune.
His fingers clenched into fists.
> "People across Gotham are calling this 'Joker Banishment Day'. There are already calls to make it a local holiday. Fireworks, parades, and online tributes are spreading faster than wildfire—"
> "Some say more of Gotham's villains should be banished, to finally bring peace to the city..."
Trending hashtags right now: #GoodbyeJoker, #ThankYouJusticeLeague, #EthanCarterForPresident...
A split screen appeared. On one side: ordinary citizens crying with joy. On the other, celebrities and politicians giving statements.
> "It's about time someone did something."
"Ethan Carter is a man of action. The League made the right call."
"This will be a new era of justice."
Then came the celebrity reactions, flooding VeroVid and MetaTok.
Queen Industries' CEO Mia Dearden:
> "I support the Justice League, but careful—we're dancing on the edge of authoritarianism."
Actress Celina Vance:
> "I feel safe in Gotham for the first time. Thank you, Ethan Carter."
Senator Jennings from Star City:
> "While we celebrate today's peace, we must reflect on the long-term consequences of giving unilateral banishment power to a few…"
And then... a contrasting voice.
Lex Luthor, smug and condescending as ever, appeared in an interview.
> "While I commend the Justice League for handling Joker, let's be honest—this kind of unilateral power should terrify everyone. Who gave them the authority to decide who stays on this planet and who gets banished like trash?"
Across every platform, the world cheered.
And Bruce Wayne sat alone in the dark, watching the birth of something he feared more than Joker himself: the world's acceptance of godlike judgment.
Bruce's hand slammed against the metal table with a crack, making the screens tremble.
"Damn it."
From the shadows of the Batcave, Alfred Pennyworth stepped into the light while holding a tray with tea and that eternally calm expression.
"Master Bruce… are you alright?"
Bruce didn't turn. His voice was rough. "I couldn't stop him, Alfred. I almost had Joker. If I had just gotten there a little earlier… he wouldn't have ended up in the Phantom Zone."
Alfred placed the tea gently on a side table, watching the younger man with quiet sympathy before casting a glance at the flickering screens showing confetti and dancing children.
"You're not a god, Master Bruce. Even with all your tools, plans, and strength—you can't be everywhere. You can't stop everything."
Bruce finally turned, eyes burning. "That's not what this is about."
He pointed to the screens—cheering crowds, dancing children, laughing adults.
"This, Alfred. They're celebrating like it's a national holiday. They're rejoicing because one man's life was erased from the planet. They're cheering the erasure of a man."
Alfred sighed, his voice gentle but firm.
"While I agree with your sentiment that all life is precious… that doesn't mean a man like the Joker—who's taken countless lives—should be free to keep playing his games. He left thousands in mourning. Some people… when they dive deep enough into the abyss, Master Bruce… there's no coming back."
Bruce stared at him in disbelief. Of all people, Alfred?
"You're saying you agree with what happened? Like his life had no value. Like any one of us could be next if the League deems us dangerous."
Alfred sighed and leaned against the console, "I don't condone celebrating any person's suffering. But Joker… he wasn't suffering. He thrived in chaos. People cheering now—it's not over his pain, but over their own liberation from fear."
Bruce blinked. He hadn't thought of it that way.
Alfred's gaze softened. "You see one man's banishment. They see their children walking the streets without nightmares. They see justice—maybe too late, but justice nonetheless."
"I'm saying… I'm not happy about it. But it's done. And you, sir, cannot undo the past. We can only move forward."
Bruce leaned back in his chair before rubbing his temples.
"It's not that simple, Alfred. The League set a precedent. Today it's Joker. Tomorrow… who? His goons? Other criminals? What if someone more influential becomes a target? What if this Phantom Zone technology falls into the wrong hands?"
His voice dropped lower.
"What happens when people start using it to silence dissidents instead of villains? What happens when someone suggests politicians, journalists, or metahumans should be removed?"
Alfred regarded him silently, then said with a calm finality, "Then leave those questions for the future, Master Bruce. Right now, you need to eat something before you collapse from anxiety."
Bruce blinked at him. "Did you just... deflect with food?"
Alfred raised a brow. "You've been brooding for four hours without a sip of water. I'm intervening before your guilt trips spiral into a conspiracy board with red yarn."
Bruce stared.
Alfred smirked ever so slightly. "It's not the end of the world, Master Bruce. Not yet. Plan all you want—but don't forget to live."
Bruce looked back at the screen. The news continued, now focusing on children in Joker masks burning them like an exorcism of fear.
'People will forget the cost… they always do,' he thought.
But he couldn't.
Not when he could already see the shadows on the horizon.
"We deal with those problems when they come, not if. You can't predict every misuse of power."
Bruce looked away, jaw clenched. "We can't let Carter's rule-by-might shape our future."
"You're right," Alfred said calmly. "But if that's what you believe… then stay vigilant. Remain the balance. You're not just Gotham's protector anymore. You're its conscience."
Bruce stared at the screen one last time—at a child lighting a sparkler under the sign: Gotham's Liberation Night.
"I just hope this conscience doesn't become obsolete, Alfred."
Alfred poured tea, the steam curling into the cave's chilly air.
"Then drink up, Master Wayne. The world may be changing… but you are still the Batman."
Bruce sighs and took a slow sip from his tea.
The warmth did little to soothe the storm in his heart.
His reflection stared back at him in the dark liquid.
His eyes closed as a vivid memory resurfaced—still fresh, still burning.
----------------------
Five hours earlier…
Star Labs, currently repurposed as the Justice League's temporary base of operations, buzzed quietly with the low hum of energy. Inside the central meeting hall, seven powerful individuals sat around a sleek, oval table.
Ethan dressed casually leaned back in his chair, his fingers loosely gripping a chilled water bottle. Around him sat Diana, Clark, Barry, Victor, Shazam, and Green Lantern.
They had gathered to discuss the Phantom Zone Proposal—a radical idea that Ethan had floated weeks ago: a place for irredeemable threats, ones that couldn't be reformed or contained.
All of them were waiting.
Waiting for one man who always walked in like a storm in a cape—Batman.
Shazam shifted in his seat and groaned dramatically. "Why is Batman taking this long? This really is like him," he said, breaking the casual conversation that had started to bloom among the group.
Flash looked at Shazam, "You'd think he'd teleport in just to scowl at us."
Ethan shook his head before turning to Hal with a teasing grin. "Why don't you fly out there and drag him back, Lantern? You've got the speed and the glow."
Hal raised an eyebrow before chuckling as he crossed his arms. "Yeah, no thanks. I already tried that once. Got a Bat-glare that still haunts me in my sleep."
Everyone laughed. The tension began to lighten—for a moment, it felt like a normal meeting of comrades.
Ethan leaned forward slightly, his expression turning more thoughtful. "Since we're still waiting… mind if I ask your thoughts on the Phantom Zone proposal?"
Superman held up a hand, his voice calm and careful. "I think we should wait for Bruce before anything serious is decided."
"I get that," Ethan nodded. "I'm not talking about the final vote. Just… personal opinions. I want to hear your honest thoughts, that's all."
There was a beat of silence… then Clark finally spoke. "I don't like the idea of us becoming judges of fate. But I also know the system fails too often. I've watched it happen."
Diana nodded. "If wielded sparingly, it could prevent unnecessary death. But it must never become a shortcut for justice."
Hal crossed his arms. "As long as it's regulated and transparent, I don't mind having options. But the execution has to be ironclad."
Victor muttered, "Every tool has potential… depends on the hands holding it."
Shazam added. "Something about sending someone to a dimension with no way out gives me the creeps."
Ethan listened before nodding at each viewpoint. "We can address all of that."
The heroes spoke up more—each weighing in with their own mixture of support, concern, and strategic caution. Victor brought up potential safeguards. Diana questioned the ethical implications. Barry asked about redemption. Shazam, being younger, seemed intrigued but wary.
Ethan listened attentively, replying to each concern with clarity. "We'll handle safeguards. We won't use it as a first solution, only as a last resort. This isn't about execution—it's containment."
Just as Victor was about to respond, his system buzzed.
"Hold on," he said, his cybernetic eye blinking. "Incoming call… it's from Batman."
Everyone sat up straighter.
Victor opened the holographic projection.
The screen flickered on to reveal a dimly lit space—what looked like an abandoned factory. Multiple men lay sprawled across the ground, unconscious and badly beaten.
Barry let out a low whistle. "Whoa. Someone had a fun night."
But Bruce's voice came through the comm, sharp and heavy. "This is no time for jokes. Ethan—evacuate your hotel and corporate headquarters immediately. Now."
Ethan stood up slowly, all humor gone from his face. "What the hell is going on, Bruce?"
Before Bruce could answer, a bloodied man on the floor coughed and spoke—his voice ragged.
> "It's… it's too late. He's already done it…"
Everyone froze.
Ethan's eyes narrowed. His irises pulsed with faint energy as he touched Bruce's mind telepathically, bypassing the explanation entirely.
What he saw made his pupils contract.
Victor's systems pinged rapidly. "Guys… you need to see this."
He opened a new projection on the central screen.
The Joker appeared, laughing wildly in a dim, grimy room. His makeup smeared, his voice soaked in psychosis.
"Helloooo, Everyone," he said cheerfully. "Especially you… Bats. My partner in crime. My muse of misery."
He bowed mockingly.
Then his tone shifted.
"I was getting bored, honestly. The usual chaos… not cutting it anymore. So I decided to up the game. Y'know, go international."
> "Today, I have something special for your new golden boy… Ethan Carter."
The room turned silent.
> "Ethan Carter. Or should I say… Aeon… man of miracles. The one who healed a whole city! Who played tag with the Atlantean fish king. Who raised force fields like a cosmic magician. Founder of Aeon Biotech, beloved by many!"
Barry swallowed hard. "I don't like where this is going."
Ethan's expression twisted—not with fear. With rage.
Joker's grin widened.
> "You made everyone love you. Even made my Batman talk about you. So I figured… if I can't top your tricks, I'll do what I do best."
He raised a remote.
> "Make the world laugh… in horror."
The video cut to two large TV screens in Joker's room—one labeled M&C Hotel, the other Aeon Biotech HQ - Washington D.C.
> "Aeon, You cast barriers like some wizard with a god complex. It's impressive. Really."
The room's atmosphere darkened as the League exchanged uneasy glances.
"But I had to try something new. Something memorable. So, Ethan Carter or Aeon whatever you prefer… consider this my love letter to your greatness."
He held up a remote and laughed maniacally.
Then—he pressed the button.
Both monitors showed massive explosions.
The M&C Hotel erupted in a bloom of fire, glass, and smoke.
Aeon Biotech's Washington branch crumbled under a shockwave bomb.
The room fell into stunned silence.
Victor's systems beeped warnings. Barry's jaw dropped. Diana's hand covered her mouth. Even Shazam took a step back, visibly shaken.
Joker, still on the screen, giggled. "Hope you like my gift, Aeon."
He blew a kiss—and the feed cut.
Bruce's voice echoed through the another screen. "Damn it—Ethan, don't do anything stupid."
But it was already too late.
The room shook.
Everything began to vibrate.
The lights flickered.
Victor's systems sputtered. Things rattled. Screens flickered.
The very air around them thickened with pressure.
Ethan stood motionless, but power radiated from him like a collapsing star. His breathing slowed.
Shazam slowly inched away. "Uh… guys… I'm scared."
Lantern muttered, "Oh boy. This is not looking good."
Diana moved to Ethan's side, placing a calm but firm hand on his shoulder. "Ethan. Please. Breathe. Don't lose yourself."
But his eyes—once a clear, calm blue—were now burning with crimson flame.
Victor's systems rang with alerts.
> ALERT: Massive atmospheric disturbance.
Category: World apocalypse-level anomaly.
Dark storm clouds forming globally. Electrical discharges intensifying. Wind speeds rising.
The skies above the the entire world darkened as thick, roiling storm clouds blotted out the sun. Blue lightning surged across the atmosphere, casting flickering shadows over cities and seas alike.
Superman stepped forward, eyes filled with concern. "Ethan… don't do this."
But the words barely reached him.
The storm inside had broken free.
Ethan clenched his fists. The air around him crackled like glass under strain.
His voice, low and filled with wrath, shattered the silence. "He's dead."
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Author's Note:
Hey guys!
How did you like the chapter?
What do you think Joker's fate will be from here? I'd love to hear your theories.
I'll try to post the next chapter soon, so stay tuned!
Also, I've seen your comments about starting another fanfic—and after giving it some thought, I've decided to go ahead and post it. I just need to get the idea out of my system and share it with you all.
Don't worry though—this story will remain my main focus, and I'll be updating the new one more slowly.
As always, your reviews and feedback are appreciated.