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Bateman stood above the ruins of Gotham, the storm clouds swirling ominously in the sky. The city lay at his feet, broken, bleeding, but still standing. The Dark Knight, the only real symbol of resistance left, had been crushed under the weight of his own arrogance. Yet, in the back of Bateman's mind, something gnawed at him. It wasn't enough. The transformation wasn't complete. He needed more. He needed to absorb everything—powers, lives, blood—and become the ultimate predator, the ultimate ruler. Only then would Gotham, and the world, truly kneel before him.

He had taken down Batman, but the true test of his strength lay in those who would come after. Heroes. Villains. They would all be part of his ascension, whether they knew it or not.

The Blood Bath Begins

Bateman returned to his underground lair, the secret laboratory that he had expanded into something far more terrifying. Around him, twisted experiments hummed in the background, with mutated subjects lying in containment chambers. Scientists, his newest slaves, moved with mechanical precision, preparing vials of blood and syringes.

He had made a pact with the vampires, their unholy power now coursing through his veins. They had promised him the ability to control and shape his body to his will. But it wasn't enough. The Extremis Serum had altered his cells, granted him powers, but they were only a stepping stone. He needed more than mere strength; he needed to become something legendary.

A table stood before him, and as he climbed onto it, the scientists began injecting him with a cocktail of chemicals: the Goblin Serum, the Lizard Serum, Hulk's mutagenic blood, Morbius' serum, radioactive spider venom, and so much more. Bateman felt his body twitch, his muscles expanding, his senses sharpening, his vision doubling, and his heart beginning to beat in erratic rhythms.

For a moment, everything was pure agony. But then, it shifted.

Electricity crackled through his veins, arcing like an electrical storm inside his body. He could feel the power building—raw, unrelenting, volatile. The energy surged within him, every nerve in his body humming with life. His senses exploded with clarity, hearing even the slightest change in the atmosphere. His eyes glowed a fierce red as the mutant powers infused him, altering his very genetic code.

This wasn't just an evolution—it was a god's awakening.

The Blood God's Ascension

Weeks passed, and Bateman's power grew exponentially. His body had morphed, his muscles now rippling with unnatural strength, and his mind had expanded, far beyond what it had been before. He could feel the power of each serum flowing through him. The Hulk's rage, the precision of the Goblin, the agility of the Spider, the cunning of the Lizard—these were no longer just abilities. They were a part of him.

But Bateman knew that he wasn't done. He couldn't be. His ascension was a process, and Gotham was only the beginning. He had bigger plans in mind.

His transformation had caught the attention of those in power—both heroes and villains alike. The Secret Society of Super-Villains had grown bolder under his leadership, and many of the world's greatest threats now answered to him. But there was still one thing missing. There were whispers of a far greater power, a secret that only the highest echelons of evil knew about. A weapon, something more potent than anything Bateman had ever encountered before.

In the deepest corners of the world, hidden beneath layers of illusion and deceit, lay a power that could not only defeat the heroes but make Bateman untouchable. The Bloodstone.

A New Target: The Bloodstone

The Bloodstone was said to be an ancient artifact, cursed with the power to grant its wielder god-like abilities. It was hidden away, guarded by creatures and forces that were beyond mortal comprehension. But for Bateman, that only made it more enticing. The Bloodstone was his ticket to absolute power, and he would stop at nothing to claim it.

He assembled a team—villains, mercenaries, anyone who could serve his purpose—and set off on a brutal campaign to find the Bloodstone. The journey was dangerous, filled with betrayals and near-death encounters, but Bateman's power was undeniable. He sliced through enemies with ease, his blades—crafted from a mix of the most indestructible metals known to man—cutting through steel, bone, and flesh alike.

The more he fought, the more he absorbed, not just power but souls. His thirst for dominance grew insatiable, each battle pushing him closer to his goal. As the days turned to weeks, Bateman's form shifted again, his eyes growing ever more inhuman, glowing with a malevolent light.

The Final Trial

After a bloody confrontation with an ancient order of guardians, Bateman finally stood before the Bloodstone. It pulsed with energy, vibrating with dark power. He could feel its influence, beckoning him, whispering in his mind. He reached out, his fingers brushing the surface of the stone, and the moment they made contact, he was flooded with an overwhelming surge of power.

It was as if the universe itself had bent to his will. The Bloodstone had accepted him, recognized him as its true heir. The energy coursed through him, knitting his body together and amplifying his already god-like abilities. Bateman could now control life and death with a thought, bending the fabric of reality itself. His body was no longer just flesh and blood—it was an instrument of destruction, a force to rival any hero, any villain.

A World in Ruin

With the Bloodstone now in his possession, Bateman turned his eyes back to Gotham. His experiments, his battles, his journey—they had all led him to this moment. He would remake the world in his image, a world ruled by him. The power of the gods had been unlocked within him, and nothing would stand in his way.

His first target: the remnants of Gotham. It was time to finish what he had started. He would reduce the city to ashes, not just physically, but mentally. The people would understand that hope was a lie. The heroes? They would bow to him, or they would perish.

With a snap of his fingers, the heavens themselves seemed to tremble. The Bloodstone had granted him the power to warp reality, and Bateman was its master. The world trembled at the thought of what he would do next. Gotham would fall, and then the world would follow.

But even as he stood on the precipice of his greatest victory, Bateman couldn't shake the feeling that the greatest battles were still ahead. New heroes were rising—ones who had the potential to challenge him. But it didn't matter. He was the Blood God now. And nothing—no one—could stop him.