The Batcave was quiet in a way that felt heavier than usual.
Not the calm kind of quiet.
Not the peaceful kind.
This was the kind of silence that pressed down on the chest and stayed there.
Bruce Wayne sat alone in front of the main computer, his body still, his hands resting on the edge of the tal table. The glow from the large screens painted his face in pale light, sharp lines and deep shadows cutting across his features. He looked older like this. Not weak, not tired, but worn. Like stone that had taken too many hits over too many years.
On one of the screens, a news broadcast played.
A woman sat behind a desk, her voice calm, practiced, and serious.
"…the world continues to ask questions in the aftermath of the tragedy," the anchor said. "Many are wondering where Superman has been since that day."
"If Superman was not involved," the woman continued, "then why has he not appeared to defend himself?"
"And if he has nothing to hide," she said, "why hasn't he been seen since the day of the tragedy?"
Bruce did not move.
He did not change expression.
His face remained calm, controlled, almost empty.
But his mind was anything but still.
He had gone over this again and again.
Every report.
Every rumor.
Every piece of Evidences that he had been getting, both directly and indirectly.
Bruce was not blind. He knew how manipulation worked. He knew how fear was planted and fed, how doubt was shaped until it felt like reason.
Nothing that had been shown to him was complete proof.
Bruce admitted that to himself.
There were gaps.
Assumptions.
Leaps that required belief instead of fact.
And yet.
Bruce leaned back slightly in his chair, eyes never leaving the screen.
Even a small chance was too much.
If there was even a ten percent chance that Superman could turn against humanity, just ten, then that was already unacceptable. Superman was not a threat because of his intent. He was a threat because of what he could do.
Power like that did not need evil to beco dangerous.
It only needed to change its mind.
Or lose control.
Or decide, even for a mont, that humanity was in the way.
Bruce's thoughts shifted, sliding into another shape as they always did lately.
Gaius.
Tony.
And Naruto.
The others who had co from another world.
They claid their reason for coming to this world was to kill Doomsday.
Doomsday.
Bruce had taken that word seriously.
He had researched everything tied to it. Myths. Legends. Ancient warnings. Modern theories. Weapons hidden in the dark. Aliens whispered about in classified files.
Nothing fit.
No device.
No army.
No monster.
Nothing on Earth matched the na Doomsday.
Nothing except one thing.
Bruce's eyes flicked to another screen. An old satellite image of Superman hovering above the planet, small against the curve of the world, yet sohow larger than everything beneath him.
Superman.
A being who could fly across the world.
A being who seed almost omnipresent.
A being no force on Earth could stop.
If a Doomsday existed, and they said it had to be killed, then it ant the being capable of creating such a Doomsday..
Bruce could not ignore the possibility that it was already here.
That it was already watching.
That it already wore a friendly face.
The decision had been forming for a long ti.
Now it settled into place.
Bruce reached forward and turned off the screen.
The news anchor vanished mid-sentence. The images disappeared. The Batcave sank deeper into darkness, lit only by distant monitors and soft blue system lights.
Bruce stood.
His joints protested faintly as he rose, a reminder he did not ignore. He was strong. Still fast. Still sharper than most n half his age.
But he was not young.
He knew his body. He tracked every change. Every fraction of a second lost. Every recovery that took just a little longer than it used to.
This was his peak.
Not because he was at his strongest, but because this was the last mont where his strength, experience, and preparation still lined up.
It would not get better.
Ti would only take from him.
Bruce walked deeper into the cave.
The ground beneath his boots shifted from stone to reinforced tal as he approached a massive structure standing in the shadows. Slowly, as he drew closer, lights activated along its surface.
A suit of armor stood there.
Huge.
Heavy.
Built not for speed, but for survival.
This was not a symbol. Not a display piece.
This was a weapon.
Designed for one purpose.
To fight Superman.
Bruce stopped in front of it, looking up at the armored fra. Thick plates layered over dense systems. Reinforced joints. Power units built to take punishnt no normal machine could survive.
He raised a hand and pressed a control.
The armor ca to life.
A deep hum rolled through the cave as systems powered on. Servos whined softly as they tested movent. Lights flickered across the suit's surface, running checks and syncing components.
Bruce stepped onto the platform.
chanical arms moved with slow precision, locking pieces into place around him. The weight settled over his shoulders, his chest, his arms.
It was heavy.
Even for him.
Bruce welcod that.
This armor would keep him alive long enough to do what needed to be done.
As the helt sealed shut, the world narrowed to data and sound.
Bruce's breathing echoed softly inside the suit.
He turned his thoughts to the next step.
He knew Superman was capable of seeing and hearing from far away, almost like a form of omnipresence. So he would do sothing to draw his attention. And Superman would see the Bat-Signal.
The signal was more than a call.
It was a challenge.
A warning.
A declaration of war.
Powering it would force Superman to make a choice.
Co and face him.
Or stay away, and prove the doubts right.
Either way, Bruce would have his answer.
Footsteps echoed behind him.
Light ones. Familiar ones.
Alfred Pennyworth stood at the edge of the platform, his posture straight, his expression tight with understanding. He had seen the signs. Bruce had been gone too long. Even Tony had left the cave earlier.
Alfred knew this mont before he fully saw it.
His eyes moved over the armor, the systems, the preparations already in motion.
"No," Alfred said quietly, but firmly.
Bruce did not turn.
"Master Bruce," Alfred continued, stepping closer. "You know you cannot win this."
Bruce's voice ca through the armor, deep and altered.
"I don't need to win," he said.
Alfred shook his head. "This isn't strategy. It's suicide."
Bruce paused.
Just for a mont.
"I am older now than my father ever was," Bruce said. "Every day after this is borrowed ti."
Alfred's hands clenched at his sides.
"This may be the only thing I do," Bruce continued, "that truly matters."
Alfred tried again, his voice softer but no less urgent.
"You don't have to do this alone. Let Mr. Stark help. Let Sir Gaius help."
The na hung in the air.
Bruce was silent for a longer mont this ti.
Then he answered.
"I don't trust them, Alfred."
The words landed hard.
Alfred opened his mouth to respond, but nothing ca. He had no argunt left. He had known Bruce his entire life, and he recognized that tone.
The decision was already made.
Alfred turned away slowly, seemingly aged, his back looking weary.
Above, in the manor, Tony Stark noticed Alfred leaving the hidden entrance.
Tony frowned slightly.
He did not follow imdiately. Instead, he headed toward another part of the Wayne Manor, where Gaius stood near a window, looking out at the night.
They exchanged a glance.
Nothing needed to be said.
They both understood.
Tony broke the silence first.
"He's going to fight him," Tony said.
Gaius nodded once.
"Even without full proof," Gaius replied.
They had studied this world carefully. Its history. Its patterns. Tony had shared everything he knew, comparing this world to his own.
Batman's past was thoroughly investigated, and Knowing his identity as Bruce Wayne made the investigation even more complete.
When faced with uncertainty and extre risk, Batman did not wait.
He acted.
Tony exhaled slowly.
"Should we step in?" he asked, They had been in this world for a long ti, and Gaius and the others were probably feeling cooped up. Gaius could certainly endure it, but staying put served no purpose. Even Tony himself felt confined, having spent the entire ti studying the Mother Box. He wanted action.
They had already tried to find Doomsday but couldn't locate him, only discovering evidence pointing to Superman, an evil force capable of catastrophic damage to the world. So Tony turned to Gaius, asking if they should act now and confront Superman directly, since there was nothing else that matched the power and threat of Doomsday but him.
Gaius considered it.
Then he changed the image on the tablet Tony had given him earlier, the device with all the investigation results. Tony had given it to Gaius so he could stay inford. Gaius handed the tablet back to Tony.
Tony took it, turned it, and saw Lex Luthor's face on the screen.
"Yes," Gaius said. "But we'll deal with him first."
Tony raised his eyebrows slightly, not really surprised. From his investigation, he already knew most of it: Lex Luthor had caused the Capitol bombing, stirred up hatred toward Superman, and made it look like Superman was responsible for the deaths.
Tony nodded.
"He was behind the Capitol bombing," Tony said. "He's been pushing this narrative from the start."
"And he's been watching us," Gaius added.
Tony sighed. "Of course he does."
J.A.R.V.I.S. had investigated and discovered that Lex had already looked into them, and now Lex knew they were in Wayne Manor.
They both knew what had to be done.
Tony glanced toward the hallway.
"Should we bring Naruto and the others?"
Gaius shook his head.
"They stay here," he said. "Naruto protects them."
Tony accepted it without argunt. After all, Mindy and Saeko weren't powerful enough, and neither was Alfred. Knowing that Lex now knew they were here, they might send soone to attack the manor.
Before moving, Tony tapped the tablet again. The screen shifted to a live feed.
Batman, clad in the armor, moved through the Batcave, testing balance, adjusting systems, preparing himself. Tony used the Iron Man armor left behind, its eyes serving as caras.
Tony watched silently.
Jarvis had noticed the scans Batman ran before. Tony did not ntion it.
Call it even, after all, they had used Batman's equipnt to study the Mother Box and stayed in his manor.
High above the city, night settled over LexCorp Tower.
The lights of tropolis stretched out below like a field of stars.
On the helipad, Lex Luthor stood alone, hands clasped behind his back, coat fluttering slightly in the wind.
A helicopter approached.
Its blades cut through the air as it landed.
The door opened.
Lois Lane stepped out.
A gunman stood behind her.
Lex turned and smiled.
"Plain Lo in the morning," he said lightly. "Lola in slacks."
He walked closer.
"Lois Lane."
Lois t his gaze without fear.
"I proved what you've done," she said.
Lex chuckled. "Wow. You're feisty."
He began to walk around her slowly, talking as he moved, and pull her closer to the edge.
"You knew sothing about LexCorp tals, hm, Miss Lois Lane?"
Lois said nothing.
Lex continued, voice calm and asured.
"Next category. Circles. Round and round."
He stopped.
"No, no. Wrong. It's Euclid."
He smiled wider.
"Triangles."
He stepped behind her.
"The shortest distance between point A and point B is a straight path."
He leaned close.
"And I believe the straight path to Superman…"
His hand touched her shoulder.
"…is a pretty little road called Lois Lane."
Then he shoved her.
Lois fell.
The night swallowed her scream.
End of Chapter
~~~
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