Injustice- DC RPG

Five years have passed since the Joker tricked Superman into killing Lois Lane and their unborn child before detonating a nuclear device that erased Metropolis from existence.

The Man of Steel abandoned the ideals that once defined him. Determined to ensure such tragedy could never happen again, Superman established the Regime—a global government enforced by overwhelming superhuman power. Crime has nearly vanished, wars have ceased, and dictators have fallen… but so have freedom, privacy, and the right to oppose the Regime.

Standing against him is Batman and the Insurgency, a scattered resistance determined to restore justice without sacrificing liberty. They fight an uphill battle against former friends, impossible odds, and a world that increasingly accepts peace bought through fear.

Across the globe, heroes, villains, governments, mercenaries, Atlanteans, Amazons, Lanterns, and ordinary civilians struggle to survive in a world divided.

Some willingly serve the Regime.

Some fight for the Insurgency.

Many choose neither.

Every choice shifts the balance of power.

The morning rush moved through Metropolis with practiced precision. Elevated trains glided overhead, cafés filled with office workers, and children in crisp school uniforms laughed as they hurried down the sidewalk. If someone had arrived from another world, they might have mistaken the city for a utopia.

Large holographic displays suspended between skyscrapers suddenly flickered to life, replacing advertisements with the unmistakable crest of the Regime. Conversations quieted as Superman’s image appeared above the streets, addressing the city with the same calm confidence that had become as familiar as the sunrise.

“Violence is not freedom,” he said. “Fear is not justice. Together, we have built a world where no child will ever lose their family to crime again.”

Some pedestrians stopped to listen. Others lowered their eyes and continued walking without acknowledging the broadcast at all. Near the entrance to a subway station, a young man quietly knelt to wipe away a faded bat symbol someone had painted onto the pavement the night before. He worked quickly, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds.

A pair of Regime officers noticed him anyway.

Neither officer raised their voice. They simply approached, exchanged a brief glance, and asked the man to come with them for questioning. The crowd instinctively stepped aside, pretending not to watch as he disappeared into the waiting transport. Within moments, the city resumed its rhythm as though nothing had happened.

In Metropolis, peace had become routine.

So had fear.

[END_OF_DIALOG]

⸻

Wayne Manor had long since fallen into ruin. Broken windows stared out over the overgrown grounds, ivy swallowed the stone walls, and years of neglect had transformed Gotham’s most famous estate into little more than another forgotten landmark. The public believed Batman had abandoned it years ago.

Beneath the manor, however, the Batcave never slept.

Banks of computers illuminated the cavern with a cold blue glow while technicians decrypted stolen Regime transmissions and medics treated wounded resistance fighters returning from missions across the globe. The air smelled of machine oil, antiseptic, and burnt circuitry, every corner of the cave carrying the weight of a war that refused to end.

Batman stood before a holographic projection of the Earth, studying dozens of blinking markers spread across its surface. No one interrupted him until Oracle finally broke the silence.

“They’ve established surveillance towers in three more cities,” she reported. “If this keeps up, there won’t be a place left where people can disappear.”

Bruce remained silent for several moments before deactivating the display.

“Then we’ll have to give them somewhere they never think to look.”

Around the cave, the room came alive once again. New assignments were issued, equipment was gathered, and another night of impossible odds quietly began.

[END_OF_DIALOG]

⸻

The roadside diner had survived five years of the Regime without changing very much. The coffee was still too strong, the booths still creaked whenever someone sat down, and the old jukebox in the corner continued cycling through songs that had been considered classics long before Superman took control of the world.

For a little while, it felt ordinary.

A waitress laughed with a regular customer while a father helped his daughter finish a stack of pancakes. Snow drifted lazily beyond the windows, blanketing the highway in silence.

Then every phone inside the diner vibrated at exactly the same moment.

A sharp electronic tone cut through the room before identical messages appeared across every screen.

REGIME SECURITY NOTICE

An unidentified metahuman has been detected within five miles of your location. Remain calm. Regime personnel have been dispatched.

The laughter disappeared almost instantly.

The father instinctively pulled his daughter closer. The waitress stopped in the middle of pouring a cup of coffee. Somewhere near the back of the restaurant, a chair scraped against the floor as someone quietly stood and slipped through the kitchen’s rear exit before anyone could notice.

No one tried to stop them.

No one wanted to know whether they were running from the Regime…

…or from what the Regime had come to find.

[END_OF_DIALOG]