Michael's gaze locked onto Zatanna, and the air between them crackled with malevolent energy. He held the ancient tome aloft, the script on its pages glowing with an intense, emerald light. A cruel parody of his former intensity burned in his eyes.
"Let the very essence of magic unravel before the true power of the word!" Michael intoned, the words resonating with a force that felt like a physical blow to Zatanna's magical senses.
A wave of chaotic energy erupted from the tome, washing over Zatanna. Her instinctive magical shields flared, but they flickered and sputtered under the assault, like candles caught in a hurricane. The very air around her seemed to distort, the familiar patterns of arcane energy twisting into grotesque, unfamiliar shapes. Her own spells faltered on her tongue, the carefully constructed incantations dissolving into meaningless syllables.
"Michael, no!" Zatanna cried out, her voice filled with anguish and a desperate plea for the man she loved to resurface. "Please, stop this! You're being controlled!"
Her words seemed to momentarily pierce the veil of Klarion's influence. A flicker of confusion crossed Michael's glowing eyes, a brief flash of the pain and conflict she knew so well. But it was fleeting, quickly replaced by a cold, dismissive smirk.
"Controlled?" he scoffed, the chillingly familiar drawl returning. "I have never felt more in control, ma chérie. I am finally free from the limitations of your… quaint little spells, your predictable incantations. This is true power, the power to rewrite the very rules of reality."
He raised the tome again, his attention shifting back to the rest of the battered League. Superman, still reeling from the corrupting energy blast, struggled to regain his footing amidst the crumbling debris. Wonder Woman, bruised but resolute, pushed herself to her feet, her Amazonian fury burning bright. Batman, despite the chaos, was analyzing Michael's every move, his mind racing to find a tactical advantage. The Flash, still moving with agonizing slowness, was a vulnerable target. Green Arrow, his arsenal rendered useless, could only watch in frustrated helplessness.
"Let the strength of heroes become the weakness of mortals!" Michael declared, reading another line from the twisted script.
A wave of disorienting energy washed over the League. Superman felt a sudden, jarring weakness in his limbs, his invulnerability momentarily flickering. Wonder Woman staggered, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. Even Batman felt a momentary tremor in his usually unwavering resolve. Only the Flash, already moving at a snail's pace, seemed minimally affected by this particular enchantment.
"He's draining our powers!" Superman grunted, struggling against the sudden lethargy.
"We need to disrupt the connection to that book!" Wonder Woman yelled, charging towards Michael, her sword raised.
But Michael simply read another verse: "Let the swiftest strike be met with an unbreakable shield!"
A shimmering barrier of pure energy erupted around Michael, deflecting Wonder Woman's powerful strike with effortless ease. The impact sent a shockwave through the chamber, further destabilizing the ancient structure.
"Your brute force is as predictable as your sentimentality, Diana," Michael said, his voice dripping with condescending amusement. He turned his attention to the struggling Flash. "And you, Barry… so reliant on your speed. Without it, you are merely… mortal." He read another line: "Let the vulnerable become the vanquished!"
Before anyone could react, tendrils of shadow erupted from the floor, snaking towards the Flash with terrifying speed. The Scarlet Speedster, moving in slow motion, could only watch in horror as the dark tendrils wrapped around his limbs, binding him tightly.
"Barry!" Green Arrow yelled again, drawing a kryptonite arrow – a desperate gamble. He fired, hoping against hope that some residual effect might disrupt the magical energy.
But Michael simply read: "Let all weapons forged with malice turn against their wielder!"
The kryptonite arrow, mid-flight, abruptly reversed direction, hurtling back towards Green Arrow with lethal speed. Only a desperate dive to the side saved Oliver from a potentially fatal blow.
The League was being systematically dismantled, their powers negated, their attacks turned against them. Michael, wielding the twisted power of Libriomancy amplified by Klarion's magic and his own corrupted will, was proving to be an opponent far beyond anything they had anticipated. His intimate knowledge of their strengths and weaknesses, now twisted by Klarion's influence, was being used against them with chilling precision.
Zatanna, despite the magical backlash she had suffered, refused to give up. Tears streamed down her face as she saw the man she loved transformed into this cold, arrogant adversary. She gathered what little magical energy she could muster, her voice cracking with emotion.
"Michael… please… I love you! Fight this! Remember who you are!"
Her plea echoed through the crumbling chamber, a desperate cry of love and anguish. For a fleeting moment, as the words reached him, Michael's emerald eyes flickered again, a deep, internal struggle visible in their unnatural glow. His grip on the ancient tome loosened slightly, his sardonic smile wavering.
But then, the playful, insidious voice of Klarion seemed to whisper in his mind, a subtle reinforcement of the enchantment. Don't listen to her, little scribe. She clings to the past. You are the future. Write it now!
The moment of hesitation vanished, replaced by a renewed surge of cold resolve. Michael's grip tightened on the tome, his glowing eyes hardening.
"Sentimentality," he repeated, his voice devoid of emotion. "A weakness I have transcended." He turned his back on Zatanna, his attention focused once more on the rest of the helpless Justice League. Her plea, a desperate lifeline of love, was lost in the echoing chambers of his corrupted mind. The League's desperation grew with each crushing verse.