(General P.O.V)

(5000 years ago)

A village lay in the middle of a white landscape.

Winter had hit hard this time, the snow falling onto the sturdy huts and covering the roofs with a fresh coat of crunchy ice flakes.

Cries could be heard from within a hut. Cries of a woman giving birth.

A few minutes later, a man stepped out with a bundle of something in his hands.

A dozen villagers all wearing thick fur and carrying hunting spears bowed in subservience at the chief.

The chief looked on proudly before revealed to them what he had in his hands.

"Vandal...the bringer of hope. The bringer of a new dawn."

He declared, presenting his new born to the village.

Everyone cheered.

Hidden behind layers of space, Batmite rubbed his hands with a conniving smile.

"I realized something...I need to play the long game. Despite going to so much trouble to bring his soul into this world, the disgraced king failed once more."

Then he looked at the child,

"But you...you will be a valuable instrument."

That same night, Batmite stopped a massive blizzard that would have devastated the village and forced them to relocate.

*******

In a deep jungle with trees draped in thick vines and foliage, the muddy ground crumbled under a foot, as something big and heavy ran chased after something small.

The sabertooth tiger's chest rumbled with a roar as it lunged after the fleeing figure, which turned out to be a teen, no older than 13.

The powerful lunge enabled it to clear the distance, claws and sharp teeth ready to rip apart the small annoyance that had wondered into its den when an arrow sank on it's neck.

Hunting calls and whistles sounded out as the hunters lying in wait attacked the tiger.

Meanwhile the young Vandal had stopped and stared at the tiger in its dying throes. The trap had been successful. He'd managed to lure the apex beast where he wanted.

He, curiously, like many times before watched it's eyes. It held so much fear in its gaze. No might or the almost unopposed strength it had once displayed.

Vandal couldn't understand how a powerful creature could be bowed so easily by death. Death was the great equalizer.

The others were proud of their strength, their hunting skills, their huts, their winter gatherings, their beautiful daughters, their dutiful sons.

However, to him it was all meaningless. To him the measure of life was not on how you lived but how long you evaded death.

Which is why he was never afraid to live. He was never afraid to test himself. And each time he escaped death...his soul would be fulfilled.

(Unseen by anyone)

Batmite cackled, rolling with glee on the floor of an impossible place.

A place in between the material and the ethereal.

"He's coming along nicely! Hey this is almost as fun as messing with Batman. Speaking of, time for our scheduled weekly tort- I mean meeting!"

Batmite made sure to always arrive at critical junctures in Vandal's life.

He orchestrated events that would ensure this Vandal was not just a Savage when born...but a smart brute.

One who would question the why and the how instead of just the what. The small boy grew up to be a legend.

One hailed as unkillable (Batmite was careful not to change Vandal's meeting with the meteor that gave him his abilities)

700 years after everyone Vandal had known was dead, the healthy man who looked not a day over 30 ventured forth into the world.

His legend would spread wide and his influence in human history could be felt on every corner of the globe.

It came to be that he would meet a fortune teller in his travels.

One who would inform him of his destiny. Of the reason why he was chosen by the glowing rock from the sky.

"You are the light to his darkness." Madame Xanadu would begin, eyes rolled back to her head as she swayed in place.

"Whose darkness?"

Vandal had asked.

Was it the presence he felt watching him at all times?

The chamber had been filled with smoke from burning incense, different alchemical compounds and other spell casting paraphernalia.

"The king of death. He who lounges as the bridge between the spirit world and the walking world. You shall rise up to oppose him. If he is the king of death, then you shall be the king of life."

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Savage had finally figured out his ultimate mission. He had been chosen for a noble course.

One that would usher in a new age of prosperity. Free from the whims of unworthy gods and monsters.

An age where humanity would ascend to it's rightful place in existence under him. An existence free of Death.

Batmite clapped for himself at a well done job.

He had given a mass murderer a cause. He had given an immortal something they would gladly live for. In some ways a conviction strong enough to die for.

He had given a savage purpose.

(Current Day)

Vandal Savage felt his immortal form unravel as his skin burned, his flesh melted and his bones turned to ash.

Pain. Agonizing pain that he had forgotten millennia ago due to the nature of his physique, now assaulted his frayed nerve endings.

The torrent of energies surrounding Klarion and him, tore them apart as the Scythe of the Spirit King forcefully split the Gillian in half, causing the souls imprisoned within to escape.

And with it the purest essence of non-existence Vandal had ever tasted.

He knew that death was coming for him. He could feel a tug on his very soul as the gates of hell opened up and beckoned him in.

But then his contingency plan activated.

Deep within his soul was a mark. A void left behind where death was supposed to be.

For every creature contained that sliver of unlife.

Except for him.

And now he would fill that void with something else. A status of power that would put him above gods, demons and Death itself.

He had no idea if this would work before except for an instinctual feeling that it would.

A feeling he had had his entire life.

A sensation that would urge him to move forward, to stop, to kill, to pillage,to rape, to save, to rescue...

This time it told him one thing.

Devour it all.

A massive magic formation built under the island with the Lazarus Pit as it's core lit up as the final preparations commenced.

The nature of the Lazarus Pit was to restore. The Magicka within it, potent to even bring back a soul on the verge of moving on.

The island rumbled as the waters of the Lazarus pit lost their glow.

Tendrils of dark green sickly energy twisted and churned from the depths as something formed from within the torrent.

All the spirit energy gathered by the circle before the dome was destroyed, Klarion's Chaos Lord essence and the Gillian's corrupted Reiryoku, all were the ingredients.

A storm of multicolored energy gathered around a black soul.

All these energies fused into the soul of a mortal man turned god.

And when it was supposed to fail, Vandal felt his benefactor; just like the time he had helped him gather Spirit energy for the first time to study it, he felt his influence once more.

The storm of power was promptly sucked into the soul.

The Island cracked in the middle, the ancient bedrock filled with magic failing to stand up to the awakening of something grand.

Davian watched as the crack spread along the training yard, separating it into two sides.

He jumped into the air and created an energy platform to stand on before turning to the floating Cheshire. Or rather Deadman.

"During my fight, I felt you save some shadows from the Gillian's attacks."

Deadman stiffened, thinking Davian would reprimand him.

"That was Good Work. Save as many as you can and take them away from here. This is not the day most die."

Davian stated, surprising the disembodied soul within Cheshire.

Deadman opened his mouth...then closed it. There was no need for words. He gazed at the strong back of the man before him and turned to leave.

Once he was gone, Davian's breath hitched slightly as a pillar of rainbow colored energy burst out through the cracked ground.

He looked at his hands and saw them shake.

The power he was feeling from this... abomination...it sent his flight instincts into haywire.

Never had death felt so...close to him. Not even the first time he died.

This wasn't a regular enemy something told him there was something eerily off about him.

Only one of them would be leaving here alive.

"Can you feel it Davian?"

The deep and soft baritone belonging to one Vandal Savage,entered his ears as the rainbow colored pillar of light receded.

A man was revealed. No, calling him a man was a disservice.

His skin glowed golden, his hair waved in the air behind his head in a hypnotic fashion. His red eyes seemed to contain a certainly pull.

He was shirtless, much like Davian. Tall and huge, with a halo of gold light surrounding his back.

His most distinctive feature was the black boney skull on his face.

Shades orbited around him, screeching in defiance to what this being was.

Unreasonable hate colored Davian's soul.

A snarl of rage escaped his mouth.

"What have you done Savage?! You meddle in powers you know nothing about. You've become an abomination."

The new Vandal laughed, hands stretched to his sides.

"So you can feel it!"

He replied, his voice booming out through the shattered island.

"The bond between us. The unbroken connection between life and death."

Davian blinked and felt Vandal Savage presence next to him. His skin crawled with the power this abomination contained within itself.

Davian clamped down on the urge to swing out his sword and kill this thing. He had to wait.

He was angry for playing right into Vandal Savage's hands and now the immortal was a monster who simply couldn't be exorcised, a man who simply couldn't be killed.

Not that Davian was planning anything less than death for him. He had killed beings that claimed they couldn't die before. He just had...to wait for a little while longer.

Savage looked up at the shrouds orbiting around them.

"They fear and hate me so much because of what I represent. I am the killer of death. I bring life and to them I break the natural order something fierce."

He laughed once more, his lips stretched out to reveal perfect teeth.

The immortal turned his gaze to stare at Davian, whose face was occupied by an impassive expression.

His eyes were set on a spot past the Island.

On the ocean, Shiva stood on a small boat, watching the island next to an unconscious Ra's Al Ghul.

Infinity Island was no more.

Davian could see the last of the boats retreat to a safe enough distance. Nothing living was left on the island except for the two of them.

No point in holding back now.

"Oh? I thought you would have much to say to me."

Savage addressed Davian.

"As your natural opposite..."

A normal human fist could travel at 15mph. A boxer's fist could travel at 20mph.

Davian's fist burned the air in its path towards Vandal Savage, travelling at more than 100 times as fast as a normal punch.

Savage received the blow with his left palm, fingers closing over the fist. The presence burst that would have normally followed was nullified.

"That was rude. I saw how furious you got at being interrupted. Yet you do the same. A bit hypocritical, isn't it?"

The immortal said, squeezing the hand.

"Shut up."

Davian growled out, throwing a disgusted look at the Immortal.

"Unlike me, you have nothing of worth to share with the world."

Savage's face scrunched up in a rictus of anger and hate.

Davian continued, uncaring of the mounting anger within the immortal,

"I called Klarion a leach but you are worse than that. You're a parasite."

"A worm who stumbled into his power and now thinks what he says goes. You hail yourself to be my equal but you're wrong Savage. Death has no equal."

For the first time ever...Davian fully released his Reiatsu.

The stones under them shattered as gravity itself inverted in a zone around them.

The water rose up in a massive curtain, swirling into a tornado with them in the middle.

Savage looked around in surprise, then his eyes snapped back to Davian.

"I can do that too."

He declared, causing his Reiatsu, no weaker than Davian's, to rumble out from within his core.

Both Reiatsus fought for dominance and the environment suffered for it.

The island that had previously been rocks floating in the water was now nothing but a whirlpool.

The sky above the two had dark voluminous clouds that spat out streaks of lightning down upon them.

Deadman, from a boat sailing away couldn't believe his eyes.

No one could.

"How can two men wield such power? It's... unnatural."

One of the Shadows he had managed to save stammered out.

Deadman had to disagree with him. It was natural.

It was Davian Mabuz.

"Good luck boss."

He said too low for anyone else to hear.