Rico wears his darkest fantasies on his sleeve. He already partakes in them. But deeper than that, past the superficial sexual gratification and trappings of power and money, is something that he can't have but desperately craves.

What emerges from the chrysalis of dark energy is Rico, but different. He's kneeling, head bowed, wearing an elaborate golden eagle on his chest. The Chief Judge. The ultimate authority in Mega City One, the city he loved and owned. His shoulderpads catch the light of the fires of Apokalips, and reflect a strangely warm gleam. It's gold - he's covered in real gold, from his chain and badge to his shoulders, to anyone who would recognize it.

The most striking difference is that he looks older. More mature, more settled into his body but no less confident, and radiating an imposing presence that pulls heavy on the atmosphere around him. He gets up to his feet to face Eclipso, slight lines pulling at the corner of his mouth as he smirks, casual and languid in every hard angle of his body.

"How about you shut your drokking mouth, lady? I don't have to bend the knee to anyone. You don't own me. You didn't make me."

Slowly, consideringly, he turns away as he spits at her, waving a dismissive hand behind him in a deliberate show of careless disdain.

"I'm not just property anymore - I'm a person now. I don't jump for you. Not anyone, and not anymore."

He snaps his finger and points at the nearest legionnaire, his voice layered with an impossible authority.

"But you on the other hand... Kneel."