DC/Sandman : Discord

The moment Discord stepped into The Threshold, he felt it—a pulse in the air, a rhythm not unlike a heartbeat but more intoxicating, more deliberate. This realm was alive, not in the way that flesh was, but in the way longing breathed through every fiber of existence. The walls shifted, gleaming with mirrors that showed not just reflections, but the truest, rawest wants of those who gazed upon them. 

He let out a low whistle, strolling forward as the floor rippled beneath his steps. "Oh, my dear, dear sibling… You certainly know how to make an entrance."

From the endless corridors of shifting light and shadows, a figure stepped forward—graceful, ambiguous, a living manifestation of temptation itself. Desire. Their golden eyes gleamed as they observed him, lips curving into a slow smirk.

"So," Desire mused, crossing their arms, "you finally decided to pay me a visit. I was beginning to think you were afraid of what you might find here."

Discord chuckled, his grin flashing like lightning in the dark. "Afraid? Never. Intrigued? Always." He spun on his heel, arms outstretched. "And oh, Desire, your realm is exquisite. It breathes with need, with hunger. You truly do know how to weave a world out of longing."

Desire tilted their head, studying him. "And what do you long for, Discord?"

He paused, then met their gaze with something unreadable in his golden eyes. "Change." The word was soft but electric. "I long for things to break, reform, become something new. But you… you crave something more personal, don't you?"

Desire's smirk deepened, but Discord saw the flicker of something beneath it. He had laid a card on the table, and Desire knew it.

"You're fun," they said at last. "And dangerous."

Discord bowed theatrically. "I try."

They shared a knowing look, and then, with a flick of his wrist, he was gone.

---

The moment Discord stepped into The Grey Lands, he felt the weight. It pressed against him, not with malice, but inevitability. The air was thick with silence, but not an empty one—this was the silence of sobs swallowed down, of echoes that never fully faded. The ground was uneven, shifting under his feet as if refusing to grant solid footing.

"Ah," he murmured, rolling his shoulders. "Now this… this is heavy."

From the fog, she emerged. Despair. Small, hunched, her eyes deep pools of sorrow. Unlike Desire, who radiated a confident pull, Despair simply… was. A certainty that settled in the bones.

"You came," she said, voice barely more than a whisper.

Discord spread his arms. "Of course I did. How could I ignore my youngest sister's grand debut?"

She looked at him, unreadable, then lowered her gaze. "They run from me. They pretend I don't exist. Until they can't."

Discord stepped closer, crouching so he was at her level. "They may run," he said, voice softer than before. "But you will always find them in the end. That is not weakness, dear sister. That is inevitability."

Her fingers twitched in her lap. "Do you run from me, Discord?"

He tilted his head, considering. Then, with a small, knowing grin, he replied, "No. But I don't linger, either."

A moment passed between them, something fragile, something real. And then Discord stood, stretching. "Well! I do love a first meeting. Such tension, such possibility. I look forward to seeing what you both become."

He turned, preparing to leave, but paused. His golden eyes flickered with amusement, with something deeper. 

"One day, dear siblings, you will be greater than even you know."

And with that, he was gone, leaving only echoes of laughter and the faintest ripple of uncertainty in his 

---

Mount Olympus trembled with the echoes of battle. Smoke rose from the valleys below, the scent of charred earth and burnt offerings thick in the air. The war between the Titans and the newly risen Olympians had been waged in skirmishes, neither side yet able to claim total victory. The young gods fought with fire and fury, but the Titans had ruled for ages unchallenged, their grip on existence rigid and unmoving.

And where there was stagnation, there was opportunity.

Discord strolled through the carnage like a composer listening to an unfinished symphony, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. The Olympians were on the back foot, their desperation making the battlefield hum with potential. He could feel it in the air—change was brewing, but it needed a push. A gentle, inevitable nudge.

And so he found himself walking paths long forbidden, towards a presence older than even the Titans themselves. Gaia.

She resided within the deep heart of Mount Orthus, where the land still pulsed with primordial power. The cavern he entered felt alive, roots twisting and shifting as if aware of his presence. He smiled, inhaling deeply. Earth. Growth. Change waiting to happen.

A voice, ancient and knowing, filled the space. "You should not be here, Discord."

He turned lazily to face the vast form of Gaia, her presence manifesting as towering stone and flowing vines, her gaze both weary and unyielding.

"And yet, here I stand," Discord mused, spreading his arms. "Do you not wonder why?"

She studied him, the earth itself shifting with her contemplation. "I have seen your work. The war above does not need your meddling."

Discord chuckled, stepping forward. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong, dearest Gaia. This war desperately needs me. Your children, the Titans, sit on their thrones as though they are eternal. They are unmoving, unchanging, and—if we're being honest—a touch boring."

Gaia's gaze darkened. "They are my children."

"And yet, even a mother knows when to let the old make way for the new," Discord said smoothly. "Cronus and his ilk do not grow. They hoard power like dragons upon gold, fearing what change might bring. But the Olympians?" He grinned. "They are chaos incarnate, desperate, striving. Hungry."

Gaia remained silent, the weight of his words pressing upon her as the earth trembled slightly.

"Consider this, great Mother Earth," Discord continued. "You have always been the force that nurtures life. But life must evolve. Life must move forward. Will you truly stand by as the world is trapped in an endless cycle of Titan rule? Or will you help shape something new?"

The cavern rumbled, and for the first time in centuries, Gaia considered. The Olympians fought for survival, for a world that was still uncertain. But uncertainty meant possibility. And possibility meant growth.

Finally, she exhaled, a wind sweeping through the cavern, her voice a whisper and a command. "What must be done?"

Discord's grin widened. "Oh, my dear Gaia. I thought you'd never ask."

He leaned closer, his voice silken with promise. "You aid the Olympians, and I'll ensure that your other children—the ones imprisoned in Tartarus—see the light of day once more."

Gaia's expression shifted, her ancient gaze unreadable. The weight of eternity hung in the balance, but Discord could already feel the scales tipping. And he would be there, at the center of it all, watching as the world reshaped itself anew.

---

The heavens cracked with the roars of battle, a war waged between the Titans and the Olympians. Lightning split the sky as Zeus clashed against Cronus, the air thick with the scent of blood and burning earth. Mountains crumbled, seas raged, and the world trembled under the weight of divine fury. The Titanomachy was at its peak, a storm of power and will clashing in an unrelenting tempest.

And from his throne in the realm, the Endless of Discord watched with delighted fascination.

Seated upon a throne that twisted and shifted like a liquid shadow, Discord rested his chin on his palm, eyes alight with mischief and satisfaction. He observed the chaos below as if watching the finest performance ever staged, every scream, every clash of steel, every broken oath composing a grand melody in his mind.

With a smirk, he extended a hand, and a violin materialized in his grasp, dark as the void and etched with spiraling golden veins of entropy. He lifted it to his chin and, with a slow drag of the bow, began to play.

The melody was not beautiful in the traditional sense—it was erratic, unpredictable, a song of upheaval and conflict. Each note pulsed through the air, resonating with the frenzied battlefield below. His music did not guide the war; it simply was the war, a reflection of its inevitable destruction and rebirth. It wove into the howls of gods and mortals alike, a symphony of discord written across the heavens.

As he played, his three eldest creations stood at his side, enraptured. The First Disruptor, cloaked in shadow and madness, tapped his fingers against his palm, keeping time with the music. The Second oldest Disruptor, golden-eyed and draped in contradiction, swayed to the melody with a knowing smile. The Third, ever silent, merely watched, his presence a promise of what was yet to come.

With a final flourish, Discord brought the bow to a halt. The last note hung in the air, reverberating through the cosmos before fading into silence. He exhaled in satisfaction, his lips curving into a grin as he gazed at the battlefield once more. The Titans were faltering. The Olympians, bolstered by Gaia's will, were ascending.

He leaned back, eyes half-lidded with pleasure.

"Oh, how I do love a good performance."

And the war raged on.

---

The battlefield of the Titanomachy was a maelstrom of divine fury. Zeus and his siblings, wielding the power of their newfound dominion, pressed against the crumbling ranks of the Titans. Lightning scorched the sky, the earth cracked under the weight of battle, and the ocean churned as Poseidon clashed with his ancient foes. The war was reaching its crescendo, the final notes of a masterpiece of destruction.

Discord leaned forward from his throne, fingers steepled, his grin widening as he felt the tension in the fabric of existence. The chaos had never been richer.

Then, a ripple. A fracture. A momentary distortion in the cosmic order.

Discord's golden eyes widened slightly, his amusement momentarily replaced by curiosity. He felt it, deep within the realms of nascent power, a darkness stirring, not born of mere conflict, but of something greater. A force destined to redefine the nature of divinity itself.

He closed his eyes and listened—not to the war, not to the gods, but to the universe itself.

And there it was.

A scream that was not a scream. A cry that was not a cry. The echo of a god newly born, of a force unshackled from the old ways. Darkseid.

The name was not yet fully formed, but its essence was undeniable. Uxas, the son of Yuga Khan, had begun his dark ascension.

Discord chuckled, the sound like the chime of shattered glass.

"Oh, now this is interesting."

The war of the Titans raged on, oblivious to the shadow now creeping into the universe, a shadow that would one day eclipse all.

And Discord, ever the orchestrator of upheaval, could not wait to see how this new force would shape the grand symphony of disorder.