The crumbling chamber became a whirlwind of desperate action as the Justice League launched their final assault. Wonder Woman, with a fierce battle cry, charged towards Michael, her sword a blur of silver. Superman, shaking off the last vestiges of the magical lethargy, flew to intercept, hoping to create an opening. Batman, moving with his usual stealth and precision, deployed a series of smoke bombs and flash grenades, aiming to disorient their magically enhanced foe.
But Michael, wielding the ancient tome with an almost casual arrogance, countered their every move with effortless ease. "Let the might of the Amazon shatter against the fragility of glass!" he intoned, and a shimmering, invisible barrier slammed into Wonder Woman, halting her charge with a jarring force that sent cracks spider-webbing across the stone floor.
"Let the speed of the alien be ensnared by the roots of the earth!" he read again, and thorny vines erupted from the ground, lashing out at Superman, forcing him to veer away from his intended path.
Batman's attempts at disorientation proved futile. "Let darkness reveal all!" Michael declared, and the smoke dissipated as if blown away by an unseen force, the flash grenades freezing mid-air before clattering harmlessly to the ground.
Zatanna, her voice raw with emotion, unleashed a barrage of her most potent spells, the incantations tearing through the chaotic energy of the chamber. "Evol ruoy sgnidnib esreveR!" she cried, attempting to break the hold of Klarion's magic.
But Michael simply chuckled, a chillingly dismissive sound. "Such quaint reversals, ma chérie. But you are playing with words I now command." He read a line from the tome: "Let all magic that seeks to undo be utterly undone!"
Zatanna's spells flickered and died mid-cast, the arcane energy dissipating harmlessly into the air. Her face paled with despair. Her own magic, her most trusted ally, was useless against this perversion of the written word.
While the more powerful members of the League engaged Michael directly, Green Arrow, his options dwindling, noticed the shadowy tendrils still binding the Flash. A desperate idea sparked in his mind. He nocked a specialized arrow – not kryptonite, but one tipped with a concentrated concoction of rare herbs known for their disruptive effects on magical energies, a long shot based on his limited understanding of the arcane.
"Barry, hold still!" Oliver yelled, firing the arrow with pinpoint accuracy.
The arrow struck one of the shadowy tendrils binding the Flash. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the tendril began to flicker and dissolve, a faint wisp of black smoke curling into the air. The other tendrils followed suit, weakening their hold on the Scarlet Speedster.
"Oliver!" Flash gasped, finally able to move his limbs, albeit still sluggishly.
Seeing this small victory, Batman changed his tactics. He began deploying a series of EMP devices, hoping to disrupt any technological or energy-based amplification Michael might be unknowingly benefiting from.
"Let technology become inert!" Michael countered, and the EMP devices sputtered and died before their energy fields could fully deploy.
The battle was a frustrating exercise in futility. Every attempt the League made was met with a direct, often devastating, counter from the power of the tome. Michael moved with an unnatural grace, his eyes glowing with malevolent intelligence, anticipating their every move as if he were reading the script of their actions before they even occurred.
"You fight with such… predictable heroism," Michael sneered, deflecting Superman's heat vision with a shimmering barrier conjured from a line about unbreakable force. "Always trying to save the day. How tiresome."
He turned his attention back to Zatanna, who was now attempting to reach him emotionally, her voice filled with heartbroken pleas. "Michael… the man I love… he wouldn't do this. He wouldn't hurt us."
For a fleeting instant, the emerald glow in Michael's eyes softened again, a flicker of the pain she recognized. He hesitated, his grip on the tome momentarily slackening.
But then, a subtle shift in the atmosphere of the chamber occurred. A faint, childlike giggle echoed from the shadows, a sound that sent a chill down Zatanna's spine. Klarion the Witch Boy, finally revealing his presence, stepped out of the darkness, Teekl perched on his shoulder, his emerald eyes gleaming with mischievous delight.
"Such touching sentimentality," Klarion said, his voice a melodic whisper that carried an undercurrent of cruel amusement. "But your little knight is far too busy writing his own exciting new chapter to be bothered with your dreary little footnotes."
His presence solidified the magical hold on Michael. The moment of vulnerability vanished, replaced by a renewed surge of cold arrogance. Michael's eyes burned with an unwavering emerald light, his smile returning with a chillingly cruel intensity.
"Indeed," Michael said, his voice now completely devoid of his former warmth. "The story is mine to tell now. And the ending… well, that remains to be written." He raised the tome, his gaze sweeping over the battered and desperate Justice League. "And I think it's time for a dramatic… rewrite."