The New Ultimate DC RPG

[Batman]

"TALK!"

The glass window of Selina Kyle's bedroom exploded on impact. Before either of Maroni's capo hitmen could react to the startling noise, many of the glass shards sliced and stuck into the back of the nearest one's neck. The grown man literally screamed in pain, failing to realize that the glass he was scrambling to remove was the least of his worries. Because directly behind him, to his partner's horror, a darkened horned silhouette was rising off of the floor. And judging from the loud growl that echoed across the room, the figure was more than a little angry. Still holding the dazed Officer Kyle down, the interrogator tried to yell out a quick warning to his friend. "Holy s***! Charlie, look out!"

It was too late. A strong arm launched out of the darkness and wrapped itself around the hitman's neck, causing the terrified thug to shoot two random bullets of his weapon into the air, grazing the ceiling with a spark. The interrogator could only watch helplessly as his partner was then spun around, grabbed, and twisted by the waist in such a forceful way that the weapon dropped to the ground, following a sickening crack that could only end in a crippling. But there was no time made to absorb the shock, when a hard right hook could be heard connecting to it's victim's jaw, sending 'Charlie' flying across the room with little effort. The last cry of agony could be heard when he crash landed headfirst into Selina's mirror, and simply fell limp.

As the interrogator turned back to the vigilante, there was no remorse to be seen. Batman immediately set his sights on the gun pressed against Selina's temple. His priorities turned as he assessed her injuries quickly, noticing she was bleeding profusely from the shoulder and appeared slightly beaten, with multiple lacerations already appearing across the face. In his line of work, he had seen all that there was to be seen in vicious acts of murder - victims with multiple stab wounds, gunshots, even a corpse who had been severed apart and partially eaten. But in that moment, The Dark Knight realized that there was nothing that sickened him more than the idea of such violence against women. And doubly so, as a victim in the midst of a home invasion, where she would be most vulnerable.

It was the ultimate tell of a true coward.

"Drop the gun."

The thug wouldn't move, even if he was scared witless. If anything, his grip tightened on the weapon, pressing it harder against Selina's skin. "No, you... you come near me, and she's dead."

The viewpoint of Batman's cowl screens, and the technology that could monitor the suspect's heart rate, suggested that he wasn't lying. But before he had smashed his way in here, the vigilante's cowl microphones had caught a small portion of the interrogation they had been instigating against Officer Kyle. For all intents and purposes, Maroni didn't want her dead more than he wanted the information that she carried. And despite her protests, the interrogator had done all that he could to keep her alive and conscious enough to talk. Even if Batman's sudden appearance had compromised this priority, there was still a small window of opportunity presenting itself.

He could still save Selina Kyle. He just had to convince the mobster that the threat against her life scared Batman enough to stop with any continued interference. Which meant that even if it went against his nature, he had to approach the situation in a way that didn't intimidate the aggressor. "Then I'm leaving."

Slowly backing towards the window, Batman watched the mobster's confusion take over. The criminal hadn't expected that - neither the reaction itself, or how easily he had managed to provoke it from the vigilante. The hardened, threatening demeanor that the mobster had posed was beginning to lose it's strength, the more that the danger that Batman's presence represented seemed to fade away. Which meant one of either two things - the stories of the so-called Dark Knight's aggression were fabricated lies, designed to the spook common thugs into submission.

"You serious? You're really gonna-..."

Or they were real, and the criminal was playing right into his hands.

It wasn't a second later that he had grabbed the gunman's trigger finger, but at least two had passed in order to ensure Batman could break it in three different places. Shooting his knee into the side of the gun, the fluidity of the vigilante's movement forced Maroni's capo to watch as it flew into the air, hitting the wall and breaking apart in a swift and sudden movement. He looked back at Batman with shock and horror, but not before feeling himself being forced into the wall, at the mercy of an iron-tight grip clasped around his jaw. The Dark Knight was on him in a second, staring directly into his eyes with an unfathomable anger.

"Tell Maroni that the next time he sends a vermin like you to beat up on a woman, I won't just throw him out of a top-floor window. I'll toss each and every one of you out with him."

The message was simple and clear. Wasting no time to incapacitate the gunman, Batman slammed the back of his skull hard into the bedroom wall, creating a web-like ripple crack that revealed itself once he slid onto the floor, very clearly unconscious.

With both men taken out of action, the vigilante quietly turned to face Selina Kyle, still visibly weakened and laid across her own nightstand. Her face didn't even emote, suggesting that she was slowly going into shock from the considerable loss of blood trickling out of her shoulder. Approaching her cautiously, so as to not startle the victimized cop with his fearsome presence, Batman gently placed his hand around the back of her shoulder to plug the wound. It was clear that the bullet had gone through and exited, meaning that she needed immediate medical attention.

"Ms. Kyle... Selina. Can you hear me? Are you able to speak?"

 

[Eddie Brock]

"Tell Maroni that the next time he sends a vermin like you to beat up on a woman, I won't just throw him out of a top-floor window. I'll toss each and every one of you out with him."

The message was simple and clear. Wasting no time to incapacitate the gunman, Batman slammed the back of his skull hard into the bedroom wall, creating a web-like ripple crack that revealed itself once he slid onto the floor, very clearly unconscious.

With both men taken out of action, the vigilante quietly turned to face Selina Kyle, still visibly weakened and laid across her own nightstand. Her face didn't even emote, suggesting that she was slowly going into shock from the considerable loss of blood trickling out of her shoulder. Approaching her cautiously, so as to not startle the victimized cop with his fearsome presence, Batman gently placed his hand around the back of her shoulder to plug the wound. It was clear that the bullet had gone through and exited, meaning that she needed immediate medical attention.

"Ms. Kyle... Selina. Can you hear me? Are you able to speak?"

A crash, gunshots, excited voices. All little more than white noise now as I feel myself slowly slipping away. There's a new voice - a familiar one, yet not belonging to either of Maroni's men. I try to focus on the voice, but it sounds like little more than a low rumbling. Suddenly, a new sensation! Fingers poking, prodding, sending little shockwaves of pain through my tender wound. The voice becomes louder, clearer. I realize he's talking to me.

With a pained cry, I open my eyes. Batman. We've met. That's why I recognize the voice. I don't know how he found me, how he saved me. I don't particularly care. I'm hanging onto consciousness as well as I can. I need to warn him!

"Nygma!" I blurt out. "We've been blown! Nygma's in danger! If Maroni...has him...he's going to..." I stop abruptly as the pain becomes too great for me to speak any further. I wince and groan loudly, slamming the back of my head against my nightstand.

 

[Batman]

With a pained cry, I open my eyes. Batman. We've met. That's why I recognize the voice. I don't know how he found me, how he saved me. I don't particularly care. I'm hanging onto consciousness as well as I can. I need to warn him!

"Nygma!" I blurt out. "We've been blown! Nygma's in danger! If Maroni...has him...he's going to..." I stop abruptly as the pain becomes too great for me to speak any further. I wince and groan loudly, slamming the back of my head against my nightstand.

Batman watched her try and scramble to warn him about Nygma. But even in her current state, there was something more in Selina's voice than simple panic or concern for her partner. She sounded... genuinely worried. Something more was going on with them, before all of this craziness. Before Maroni's grip began to tighten around the both of them. Scanning her vital signs with the lenses of his cowl, he realized that it didn't matter at the moment. Her frantic mind was only pumping more blood out of the wound, and the more that she lost, the greater the danger that she was in. She's slipping. Need to get her relaxed.

"Then Maroni failed. Lieutenant Nygma is fine."

It was a momentary lie, considering he didn't know exactly what state Nygma was in. But it was a good enough guess that Batman would know for sure soon, considering the Lieutenant was alive enough to be able both hack into The Oracle and send him a warning message to get here. Something in itself that the vigilante still didn't know how to react to.

Trying to convey an ease in his voice, Batman came closer to Selina's face, slowly lifting her head off of the nightstand with his gloved palm. He wasn't particularly experienced with a situation like this, but he knew enough to ensure that she wouldn't die like this. Not while a bastard like Maroni could still gloat about it.

"Listen to me. You're losing alot of blood, so I'm going to try and move you over to the bed. Then I'm calling an ambulance. I need you to nod if that's alright."

 

[Eddie Brock]

Batman watched her try and scramble to warn him about Nygma. But even in her current state, there was something more in Selina's voice than simple panic or concern for her partner. She sounded... genuinely worried. Something more was going on with them, before all of this craziness. Before Maroni's grip began to tighten around the both of them. Scanning her vital signs with the lenses of his cowl, he realized that it didn't matter at the moment. Her frantic mind was only pumping more blood out of the wound, and the more that she lost, the greater the danger that she was in. She's slipping. Need to get her relaxed.

"Then Maroni failed. Lieutenant Nygma is fine."

It was a momentary lie, considering he didn't know exactly what state Nygma was in. But it was a good enough guess that Batman would know for sure soon, considering the Lieutenant was alive enough to be able both hack into The Oracle and send him a warning message to get here. Something in itself that the vigilante still didn't know how to react to.

Trying to convey an ease in his voice, Batman came closer to Selina's face, slowly lifting her head off of the nightstand with his gloved palm. He wasn't particularly experienced with a situation like this, but he knew enough to ensure that she wouldn't die like this. Not while a bastard like Maroni could still gloat about it.

"Listen to me. You're losing alot of blood, so I'm going to try and move you over to the bed. Then I'm calling an ambulance. I need you to nod if that's alright."

He could be lying about Nygma, trying to calm me down. For the time being, I'm okay with buying into the lie, though. Besides, even if Nygma isn't safe, Batman was able to save me, so why wouldn't he able to save him? It's becoming harder to focus, harder to think. I hear Batman's question and merely nod as requested.

 

[Byrd Man]

Screech to a halt outside Selina's apartment. Pulse racing. Take the steps two at a time. Shots fired, pull out my piece and come through the door.

Blood and gunpowder thick in the air. Batman standing over Selina.

Lower my gun, rush over to them.

"What the hell happened here?"

Please don't let her be dead.
​

 

[Saved]

Gotham City
Midnight

"Ow! OW! Not so tight!"
"Oh, come on, man. Have some dignity."
"I'm going to plea police brutality, you know that?"
"See, there's one problem with that," I tell him with a grin. "I'm not a police officer."
Putting the heel of my boot against the man's shoulder, I stabilize my body and pull hard on the rope wrapped around his body. "That should hold you," I tell him as I tie a knot. "Until the cops get here, that is. Then they can deal with you."

"Yeah, like they'll have a case." The criminal replies smugly. "All they'll know is I was here after hours, was fasely battered and tied up for them to find. There's no proof I did anything illegal." I roll my eyes, irritated by his banter. No, it's not even banter. It's bull.

Taking his hair in my hand, I jerk his head to the side. "See that camera up there?" I ask as I point directly toward the device dangling from the ceiling. "That's been on the whole time. It saw you break in, stuff the jewelry in the bag, and then attempt to leave."

"Haha, yeah, but it also saw you beat the crap out of me."
"I wouldn't count on that." I tell him happily as I walk toward the broken window. "Stationary cameras like that are usually fixed in one place. When I beat you into next Tuesday, I'm pretty sure we were convieniently out of the field of view." Leaping through the opening, I land on the sidewalk outside, carefully avoiding the glass shards scattered about. "Hope you enjoy your stay at Blackgate." I tell him with a smile before running off into the cover of darkness.

"Man that was fun," I tell myself under my breath. Ducking into an alley, I leap onto a fire escape and make my way to the roof of the building. "The fourth B&E of the week, and I still got along without any difficulty. Man, I can't believe crime is so bad here - these guys are idiots."

Reaching the top of the building, I maintain my pace, running swiftly across the roof and leaping off the side onto the next structure. "If I can take these guys down as easily as I can, I wonder how Batman feels about this stuff. Haha, he probably doesn't even have to think when he does it - must be like second nature, to him. I wonder if he'd ever consider a partner? Him and I, working together to clean up Gotham? Wow... that'd be like, world's finest- the dynamic duo! The-"

The sudden sound of screams stops me midsentence. Moving into a short jump, I nimbly halt my sprint, and make my way to the ledge of the building to have a look. As I peer out over the side, I see a wall of fire strangely centered in the middle of the street below. "What the... gas main?" I ask, trying to make sense of the scene.

Suddenly, a car errupts in flames. Then another, and another after that. "What's going on down there?" Pulling a rope coiled on my belt, I securely tie it to a metal pipe and grab hold of it tightly. "Never done it from this height before, but - hey, why not?" I take a leap and instantly I feel my stomach sink. As the ground approaches fast my body goes slightly numb. The wind is abrasive against my face, making it difficult to keep my eyes open.

Note to self: Eye protection.​

About four seconds pass and the ground seems like it's coming in fast. Just when I think I've made a mistake, the line goes taught, and I hold on for dear life. Pulling up, the rope stays together and I swing forward above the madness below with ease and control.​

Letting go of the rope, I do a double flip in the air to slow my momentum just a bit. Landing in front of one of the flaming cars, I raise my head and begin examining the area closely. People run past me, ignoring me as if it was normal to see a caped figure in the middle of the street.​

"RUN!" One exclaims, brushing past me in terror.
"He's crazy! CRAZY!"
"From hell! It's the devil, I tell you! THE DEVIL!"​

What are these people freaking out over? Maybe this isn't a gas leak after all. "Um... at ease, citizens," I start, addressing the fanatic public as they continue to run in fear. "Wow, that was lame. Alright, maybe I'll just keep the monologues to Superman and stick to the quiping."​

"Ah, you must be this mysterious Bat-girl I've heard so much about." A voice calls out from behind. I spin around fast, arrogently keeping my hands at my side.
"Batgirl? Who's to say I don't prefer Batwom-" As I face my opponent, my eyes go wide in shock. I feel my stomach become heavy in my gut as my skin sudddenly becomes cool and moist.​

"What's the matter? All out of jokes?" ​

My eyes stay fixed on the attacker as he draws closer to me, walking with a casual pace. I stare on in disbelief, both amazed and terrified at the spectacle before me. A burning man? How is this possible? Is this guy just an illusion or is he for real?​

"N-No," I stammer, the words leaving my lips as if by instinct. "I've got plenty." I say with false confidence, raising my hands as I prepare for a fight.​

"Oh, good. I was hoping I'd run into one of Gotham's heroes tonight." ​

Wonderful. He's looking for a fight. Yeah, no - that makes this a lot easier. "Well, you found it." I tell him boldly. How am I suppossed to stop this guy? All I've got are some stolen police accessories and a rope. It's not like I've got a fire extinguisher wrapped around my waist. Gotta stall for time. Maybe I'll figure something out as I go. ... Oh, great. Now I'm using improv as a method of martial arts. This is going to go over real well...​

"So, what do you call yourself, hot stuff? The human match-stick? Flamer?"​

"Name's Hot-Streak," he says proudly, raising his hands above his head. "I think you're gonna have to change your name, though."
"Why's that?" I ask, knowing I'm not going to like the answer.
"I don't think Batgirl is a fitting name for you. Nope, when I'm through with you," his hands suddenly ignite into two fiery orbs, glowing in the dark Gotham air. "I think you'll have to call yourself Deadgirl." ​

Yeah, just like I expected. I hate it when I'm right.​

****​

As the battle begins below, a lone figure watches from atop one of the city's many spires. Silently he sits back, waiting to see the outcome of the skirmish beneath.​

"Well ... This should be quite entertaining."​

 

[Batman]

Screech to a halt outside Selina's apartment. Pulse racing. Take the steps two at a time. Shots fired, pull out my piece and come through the door. Blood and gunpowder thick in the air. Batman standing over Selina. Lower my gun, rush over to them.

"What the hell happened here?"

Please don't let her be dead.

He had heard Nygma's footsteps from outside the door, readying a batarang in his hand on the off-chance that it was another one of Maroni's men. But the truth of the matter was, when it came down to presence, the Lieutenant didn't make a particularly good mobster. So by the time he had made it into the doorway of the bedroom, Batman was in the midst of begrudgingly placing the weapon back into a pouch of his belt. The evening seemed to be full of nothing but close calls. Paranoia's setting in. Dammit.

Quickly indicating Selina's bleeding shoulder, the vigilante quickly scooped her up into his arms, ignoring the excess blood that washed over the front of his armor. "She's been shot. Bullet went through the shoulder, managed to sever a deep artery."

Placing Officer Kyle's body straight across the bed, Batman tapped the side of his belt and ripped several cloth bandages off of a miniature roll. But rather than properly wrap them around her shoulder, knowing it'd be useless to do so, he proceeded to bunch them up until they were thick enough, and applied them to the shoulder under a pressurized grip. The amount of blood gaping out of her wound only stopped by a few pints, but it was something.

With a sense of despair, the vigilante ran the odds of Selina's survival through his head. Gotham General was on the other city of the city, and any given scenario across the East End could only mean a delay in an ambulance's arrival. Gotham City was not a place to find immediate medical assistance. So that was already a risk within itself, but the trying circumstances made it even worse. If any of the hospital's staff could identify her and manage to bring word back to Maroni, she'd be helpless towards another murder attempt. She'd be right where he'd want her...

"She needs to see an emergency room in the next twenty minutes. But if that's not going to be an option,"

"We need a plan."

 

[Byrd Man]

"She needs to see an emergency room in the next twenty minutes. But if that's not going to be an option,"

"We need a plan."

A plan?

Walk over to Selina. Nearly unconscious. Sheets crimson wet. Don't die. Idea clicks in my head.

"I have an idea, but you're not gonna like it."

Lean down, stroke her dark hair. Don't die.

"We can take her to the Crime Doctor. Yeah, don't look at me like that. She actually exists."

Don't die, Selina. I love you.

 

[Batman]

"I have an idea, but you're not gonna like it."

Lean down, stroke her dark hair. Don't die.

"We can take her to the Crime Doctor. Yeah, don't look at me like that. She actually exists."

Batman was silent. Contemplative. Annoyed, mostly, but he had enough of a grasp on the situation to know that they running out of options. He also knew that Nygma had been working on a series of undercover dealings with the Maroni and Valestra mobs, so his credibility towards such information wasn't in question. It was moreso a combined conscience of their morality, Nygma's desperation, and his trust. Was the Lieutenant really going to hand his partner over to someone working off of a payroll from the mob?

Could he really just stand by and allow that to happen?

"You're right. I don't like it."

Looking back, however, the vigilante seemed more willing to consider it than he was letting on. This wasn't the first time that he'd have had to resort to usual methods - and if he didn't take the option, Selina Kyle was less than half an hour away from an early grave. It left him with a clear choice to make. Her life, or his morality.

"But let's consider the hypothetical. If we're to take her to this 'crime doctor', it means we're seriously considering handing her over to the mob. Anything that goes wrong - anything that happens to her within this risk - would be on us, and no one else. Can you live with that?"

 

[Byrd Man]

"But let's consider the hypothetical. If we're to take her to this 'crime doctor', it means we're seriously considering handing her over to the mob. Anything that goes wrong - anything that happens to her within this risk - would be on us, and no one else. Can you live with that?"

"Can I live with that? Look at me. I'm this close to being put in the nuthouse. I get another death on my hands, I'll go ahead and give my service pistol a *******. It's either the Crime Doc, who is quiet, discreet, and will keep her mouth shut for the right price...or we take her down to Gotham General where Maroni and his men will send a hit squad as soon as someone leaks word about her being in the hospital. Is this situation hopeless and completely ****ed? You bet. Is this plan risky? You bet your ass. But the longer we stand here debating what to do, she gets closer to dying. I don't see a whole hell of a lot of options, so I'm going with one I know. It's time to nut up or shut up, Batboy. It's either the Crime Doctor, or we go ahead and put Selina out of her misery with a bullet to the head."

Standing toe to toe with Batman. Not budging an inch. Heart racing mile a minute. Please don't die.

 

[Eddie Brock]

"Can I live with that? Look at me. I'm this close to being put in the nuthouse. I get another death on my hands, I'll go ahead and give my service pistol a *******. It's either the Crime Doc, who is quiet, discreet, and will keep her mouth shut for the right price...or we take her down to Gotham General where Maroni and his men will send a hit squad as soon as someone leaks word about her being in the hospital. Is this situation hopeless and completely ****ed? You bet. Is this plan risky? You bet your ass. But the longer we stand here debating what to do, she gets closer to dying. I don't see a whole hell of a lot of options, so I'm going with one I know. It's time to nut up or shut up, Batboy. It's either the Crime Doctor, or we go ahead and put Selina out of her misery with a bullet to the head."

Standing toe to toe with Batman. Not budging an inch. Heart racing mile a minute. Please don't die.

Batman and Nygma argue. Their voices sound eerily distant. Nygma, to his credit, isn't backing down, though. If anything, his voice is getting louder and more emphatic. I can't really understand what they're saying. It's taking every ounce of strength I have to stay conscious, let alone observe my surroundings. As Nygma's voice continues, I let my thoughts wander.

From the darkness, a memory emerges. I'm nine years-old. It's a Tuesday morning. Mom didn't come into my room to make sure I'm awake. I get dressed and brush my hair on my own. I make my way to the kitchen. No brown-bag lunch waits for me there. Mom always makes lunch for me the night before school, so I can pick it up on my way out the door. I turn to her bedroom door. It's ajar.

Dropping my backpack onto the kitchen floor, I walk over to my mother's bedroom. The window's open, and a cool breeze rolls in. The old hinges creak as I swing the door open. Mom's lying in bed, no covers and still clothed. She doesn't make a sound. I walk tentatively over to her. Her left arm hangs limply off the side of the bed.

"Mom?" I whisper, not wanting to disturb her. I'm at the foot of her bed now. Softly, I take her foot in my hand and shake it lightly. "Are you awake?" She says nothing. I inch forward now, nearly tripping over her high heels left on the floor beside her bed. "Mom?"

Her alarm goes off. Startled, I nearly fall backwards. Mom doesn't move. I allow a few seconds to pass, but the only noise in the apartment is the ringing of the alarm and my distressed breathing. I stand up straight, reaching out towards Mom.

"Mom?"

She's in full view now. Her mouth hangs open, drool running down her cheek onto the pillow. Her forehead is coated in a thin layer of sweat. Her tank top, too, is sweat-stained. A piece of rubber tubing is tied tightly around her right bicep, and a needle hangs from her arm. It's then that I notice that her chest isn't rising and falling as it should. Listening closely, the only sound of breathing I hear is my own.

I'm frozen in time.

"Aaaagh," I groan. The pain brings me back to the present. Nygma and Batman continue to debate over how best to deal with me.

 

[Batman]

"Can I live with that? Look at me. I'm this close to being put in the nuthouse. I get another death on my hands, I'll go ahead and give my service pistol a *******. It's either the Crime Doc, who is quiet, discreet, and will keep her mouth shut for the right price...or we take her down to Gotham General where Maroni and his men will send a hit squad as soon as someone leaks word about her being in the hospital. Is this situation hopeless and completely ****ed? You bet. Is this plan risky? You bet your ass. But the longer we stand here debating what to do, she gets closer to dying. I don't see a whole hell of a lot of options, so I'm going with one I know. It's time to nut up or shut up, Batboy. It's either the Crime Doctor, or we go ahead and put Selina out of her misery with a bullet to the head."

Standing toe to toe with Batman. Not budging an inch. Heart racing mile a minute. Please don't die.

"..."

Not feeling particularly argumentive, The Dark Knight's eyes shifted across the room and locked onto the two unconcious bodies of Maroni's men, lying on the bedroom floor. He had an idea, but like Nygma's, it was a risk. If it were any other time, it would have been outright unnessecary. But in order to save a life, Batman would be more than willing to make exceptions. Advancing towards the two hired guns, he knelt down and began checking the pockets of their jackets.

Nygma wordlessly stared, but his confusion said it all.

"We're going to need a car."

"Then I'll get my-..."

"We're going to need a reliable car, Nygma. Your's is still suffering from the other night's collision with the Gotham Mall."

Almost immediately, Batman ripped one of the pockets open and produced a set of keys belonging to the duo's driver. They were easily recognizable to both the Lieutenant and vigilante as the keys to a Lamborghini Murcielago. And with the promise of Maroni's typical specifications in place, there was no question that it'd be top of the line.

Rushing over to the window, Batman looked back at the two with an unwavering focus. He just hoped that whoever this Crime Doctor was, the Lieutenant knew where to find her. He'd just need to handle their transportation, and it was at that moment that the vigilante came to a very crude realization. Guess the stunt driving lessons in Monaco are about to pay off.

"Grab her, dress the wound as best as you can, and meet me downstairs in the next few minutes. I'm driving."

With that, The Dark Knight leaped out into the night and glided down to the streets below, in search of a several thousand-dollar vehicle that was about to be stolen.

 

[Byrd Man]

"We're going to need a car."

"Then I'll get my-..."

"We're going to need a reliable car, Nygma. Your's is still suffering from the other night's collision with the Gotham Mall."

"Actually, it's my unmarked police car outside. But yeah, dried blood will be hard to explain to the motor pool people."

"Grab her, dress the wound as best as you can, and meet me downstairs in the next few minutes. I'm driving."

With that, The Dark Knight leaped out into the night and glided down to the streets below, in search of a several thousand-dollar vehicle that was about to be stolen.

Five minutes later: in the back seat of the sports, car keeping pressure on Selina's wound. Batman: taking a corner at 110MPH. Please don't let her die.

"Take another right here. It's third apartment building down on the left side."

Batman looks back.

"I'm sure. I came here to visit Maroni while he was in her care. ****er cut his hand real bad on a letter opener, and was too afraid to go the regular ER, scared someone was gonna whack him while he was getting stitched up."

 

[Mr. Majestic]

Lex Luthor​

"Hello, Majestrate. Trying to learn a bit more about me, are we? Well, I can assure you that now, you are going to get very well acquainted with some of LexCorp's nasty little secrets...mainly because you're about to become one of them."

I bring up a holographic keypad and enter in a command, which starts flooding the mainframe room with an odorless nerve gas which renders paralysis.

"I hope you'll appreciate how expensive it was to engineer the gas currently entering your lungs. It will completely override your nervous system, leaving you totally paralyzed but otherwise unharmed...and fully conscious while I work on you. I'm sure the loss of your powers is only a temporary one--in fact, I'm counting on it. But if you're planning on them returning in time to save you, I should let you know, I can work extremely quickly. See you in a minute."

It appears my arrogances have got the best of me. I have been so focus on bringing down Luthor I didn’t fully think everything through. I now must pay the price. My father always said that my downfall is that I underestimating my opponents.

I attempt to make my way towards the door but none of my muscles are responding. As the paralysis takes affect and I loss complete control of my muscle function only thing I can do is recall the time when my father spoke about this day to come.

***​

“How do you think you faired in the battle me son?” He asked as i apporached.

I had landed in front of my father from just leaving the battlefield.

“Father, do you not see their bodies laying motionless on the ground?”

“That is not the reply I’m looking for my son.”


“Very well father, I believe I was superb. My actions were flawless, I read and countered all of their attacks with precision. The moment destiny cross their paths with mine the result was already writen of their defeat.”

“And what brought you to that conclusion?”

“It is supple I am the son of a Kherubim Lord I have no weakness.”

“There is much you do not know about my son. Kherubim’s have only one fault.”

He then pulled out his sword.

​

“An Engine sword forged from fragments of the Creation Engine is the only thing capable of bypassing our invulnerability.”

“I wasn’t aware of this father.”

“My son there is a lot of things that you are not aware of. That is why you are with me so you may gain the knowledge that I have.”

“I would have never thought that the very blade that once saved your life is also our one weakness.”

He then sheaths his sword.

“This sword is just one of your weakness. You are one of the most intelligent beings in the universe but yet you don’t act as one. You possess great power and because of that power you misjudge your adversaries and one day it may be the death of you.”

***​

My father couldn’t have been more correct. No longer able to stand I collapse on the floor as a large metal table and work station raise from the middle of it.

The only thing I can think of is how I, Majestrate let my father and my people down.​

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[Batman]

Five minutes later: in the back seat of the sports, car keeping pressure on Selina's wound. Batman: taking a corner at 110MPH. Please don't let her die. "Take another right here. It's third apartment building down on the left side."

Batman looks back. "I'm sure. I came here to visit Maroni while he was in her care. ****er cut his hand real bad on a letter opener, and was too afraid to go the regular ER, scared someone was gonna whack him while he was getting stitched up."

I can tell that Nygma's beginning to lose it every second that we aren't bringing her into that clinic, but his words fall on deafened ears once my eyes are drawn over to the passenger's seat. What I see is a woman in clear shock, rambling under her breath with clear hallucination. But the optical readout display in the cowl is painting a picture far more grim, telling me that Selina Kyle's blood flow is rapidly increasing every three seconds. The sensors that detect and pinpoint her exact pulse frequency reveal another danger - that her heart is being overworked trying to control it. Two scenarios are screaming out to me. She dies from the overwhelming loss of blood, or she hangs on long enough to fall directly into cardiac arrest.

Trying to ignore it. Push it out of my mind. Won't do any of us any good to lament on the fact that we may have already failed. That because of my involvement, and Nygma's carelessness, Maroni discovered her true allegiances and put her in this current state of danger. That because of all of this, John Grayson may not be the only GCPD detective I've successfully managed to get killed.

Damn it.

Continuing a curse under my breath, I pump the gas as hard as I can. Too busy taking things so personally that I don't even realize it when Nygma's tugging on my shoulder to stop. We're here. I hit the brake, turn the wheel and feel the vehicle slide, ripping the keys out of the ignition the moment that we come to a halt. Turn my attention back over to a woman who's slowly dying, and for the first time, realizing that I'm completely unsure of how to approach this.

I know how their minds would work, so I've got the momentary advantage. If I go in there myself, I at least have the assurance that they're not going to call the police on me. They wouldn't want Gordon discovering their little operation unless it was on their terms, rather than mine. In some ways, going to a mob surgeon gives us more security. And in other ways, it's clearly more dangerous. Maroni gets even a word of this, and Selina's dead.

Grab her body and scoop her up into my arms. At this point, I can't even care less. The risk is worth taking if it means even a fraction of a chance against the odds. I will not lose her like I lost Grayson - I have to maintain hope. Otherwise, this is a war that isn't worth fighting.

Pull Selina's body out of the vehicle and exchange a glance with Nygma from a backseat. He has a stake in this, and it's put us on even ground. Even if no words are said between us from this point forward, we both understand, in that moment, what needs to be done. We're ready to give our lives before letting Maroni win.

"You're gonna have to lead the way. She doesn't have long."

 

[J'adore]

"Don't worry, kid. you stay here with me. My partner Ellen Yin and Commissioner Turpin of the MPD is going in. Then, when I say, you jump in and save Fred."

As Maggie stepped out the car, the two doors at the front opened. Out from the driver's seat stepped a slim, young woman, with jet black hair and pale white skin. She had thin eyes and long thin fingers, which clutched a gun with a tight grip.

Then, from the front passenger seat, stepped out a tall, muscular man. His skin tanned and his eyes a damp gray. The man's trench coat was a dull beige, which was in contrast to the young Chinese woman's ruby red blouse and slick black pants.

"Maggie, I'll call you when we're ready for your 'back-up'."

The young Chinese woman opened the back passenger door and spoke to Maggie.

"Sure thing, Ellen. Be careful in there, remember Turpin said you're on your last thread or it's Gotham for both of us." Maggie firmly warned Ellen Yin. Ellen nodded and shut the door again, walking behind Commissioner Bard.

Linda watched as the two entered the warehouse, armed and ready.

"Who kidnapped him?" Linda spoke with no emotion.

"She calls herself Repulse."

​

 

[Spike_x1]

"I am so pleased that you could find time for a meeting with me, considering your busy schedule, Mr. Cobblepot."

Despite what many of the men and women in his new organization thought, Bane was not at all beyond cooperating with the other gangsters in Gotham, provided that they still served his purposes. He was not truly obsessed with personally controlling every aspect of organized crime in the city; alliances were not out of the question, assuming that his rivals in the underworld were smart enough to make them before it was too late.

"A gifted player knows when not to sacrifice his pawns in a futile effort, Mr. Bane. I have seen from the sidelines what you and your forces have done to the lower, street level operations of the likes of Falcone and Maroni. My friend here, Bird Colossimo," Cobblepot gestured to his blond haired bird trainer leaning against the far wall, "has personally talked to some of the witnesses of your acts that you put in the hospital for peddling their wares on street corners. They say that you've bottle necked many of the illegal activities of your mob rivals, causing a good deal of stress. Maroni in particular has been acting quite paranoid and irrational lately." The sleek, yet stout man sipped from the glass of fine cognac that Bane's servants had given him. "You have proven yourself capable of feats that, singlehandedly, I had not thought possible. And now that you have built yourself a small army and have them backing you up..." Cobblepot's voice trailed off before he gave a light chuckle. "A war with you would not benefit anyone. Cooperation is far less messy; I have supplies that I'm certain you could find uses for, while the manpower you have at your disposal could help with my drug smuggling and--"

"No drugs. No human trafficking." Bane stated with a non-negotiable tone, his large hands on his hips and his monstrous frame towering over Cobblepot even more than it would over a man of average height. "I grew to manhood in the hellish prison of Peña Duro, and I have seen first hand the effects that those have had on the human spirit. They can be worse than death."

"But--"

"I have no qualms with any other part of your operation and I will provide aid to you in those areas, but if you wish to continue your human and drug trafficking, you will do so without my help."

Oswald growled under his breath for a brief moment before resigning to Bane's terms. Even with the large brute's restrictions on their deal, it was still very much a win-win scenario for Cobblepot if he went through with it. If he protested, however, Oswald surmised that he likely wouldn't leave this room alive, even with Bird behind him and his bodyguards standing just outside the door of Bane's meeting room.

"I believe that we have a deal." As he put his empty glass down on its coaster and raised his hand to Bane in agreement, Cobblepot was almost taken aback by the sheer size of the hand that engulfed his in the handshake.

**********​

Later, after the penguin-like man had left, Bane wished to remain alone in the meeting room. Clasping his hands behind his back, he stared out the floor-to-ceiling window. "My Talia," he sighed, "You will be avenged soon." Even as thoughts of his vengeful mission pushed him forward, Bane could not help but think back to how this had all come to pass; the mask he now wears, the mask Wayne wears, Talia's betrayal and death, and Gotham City herself. Bane had found he had become a shattered reflection of Bruce Wayne and his Batman persona, both men striving to control Gotham in their own way. Perhaps that was Fate's cruel irony for Bane; to become more and more like his hated foe.

But was there a point to any of it in the end? After finally crushing Wayne... what next? There would be little point in ruling Gotham after that. How Bane wished that the Bat would simply show himself already and bring these drawn out events to a close!

Suddenly the building shook as an explosion rang out several floors below. He's here! Fate brings him to meet me at last! Barging open the doors to his large balcony, Bane was met with roaring flames. The Batman was being far more aggressive than Bane had predicted, and he couldn't be more pleasantly surprised.

That was when he saw the intruder who had caused the explosions, standing out on Bane's balcony and looking quite enraged. "You're not Batman." He made no effort to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

 

[Eddie Brock]

Grab her body and scoop her up into my arms. At this point, I can't even care less. The risk is worth taking if it means even a fraction of a chance against the odds. I will not lose her like I lost Grayson - I have to maintain hope. Otherwise, this is a war that isn't worth fighting.

Pull Selina's body out of the vehicle and exchange a glance with Nygma from a backseat. He has a stake in this, and it's put us on even ground. Even if no words are said between us from this point forward, we both understand, in that moment, what needs to be done. We're ready to give our lives before letting Maroni win.

"You're gonna have to lead the way. She doesn't have long."

One moment, I'm moving. The next, I've stopped. Something - someone - touches me, but I'm only vaguely aware of it. I can faintly see lights and colors moving past my closed eyelids. The colors are muted, and they eventually surrender to the darkness. Memories continue to emerge.

"What?" Mrs. Jordan says in a shocked tone. She's the mother of my best friend, Joanie. I must have been six years-old. Joanie and I are playing with her dolls in the living room. Mrs. Jordan is standing at the threshold to the kitchen, talking in a hushed voice over the phone. "When did he--? Oh, God."

I look at Mrs. Jordan and smile pleasantly. She doesn't return the gesture.

"What can I do?" she asks, her voice barely breaking a whisper. "Should I bring her now? Okay." Mrs. Jordan hangs up the phone and moves slowly into the living room. "Selina?"

She would explain to me in the car that my father was gone. I prodded her to explain further, but she didn't have the heart to tell me. At the hospital, the man from child services would explain that my father had been found dead that morning. I was going to live with my mother. I didn't know it - or didn't understand it - then, but my father had gone out drinking after I went to sleep. He drank himself to death, and I was blissfully unaware as I went over Joanie's house to play in the morning.

On that day, the Selina I once knew died. She died again the day I found my mother lying in her bed, overdosed. All my life, I experienced things which would forever change how I viewed the world. I have died and been reborn many times before.

This may prove to be one of those days - if I live to tell the tale.

 

[Byrd Man]

Grab her body and scoop her up into my arms. At this point, I can't even care less. The risk is worth taking if it means even a fraction of a chance against the odds. I will not lose her like I lost Grayson - I have to maintain hope. Otherwise, this is a war that isn't worth fighting.

Pull Selina's body out of the vehicle and exchange a glance with Nygma from a backseat. He has a stake in this, and it's put us on even ground. Even if no words are said between us from this point forward, we both understand, in that moment, what needs to be done. We're ready to give our lives before letting Maroni win.

"You're gonna have to lead the way. She doesn't have long."

"Gotcha."

Pull my gun out and go forward. Batman behind, Selina in his arms. Up the second floor of the ratty apartment building. 3F, knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Thick-accent, Eastern European.

"Enver Hoxha."

Password: Albanian dictator who ruled from '41-'85.

"Derr i pavlefshëm!"

Door swings open. Middle-aged lady with glasses.

"Hello, doctor."

Eyes widen at Batman.

"Djall!"

Tries to slam the door. Stop her with my foot.

"This isn't about him, Doc. This is about what he's holding."

Doc eyes bloody blanket and Selina.

"...I will do it. But double cost."

"****, lady, I'll triple it if you don't tell a soul about this."

"About what? I no remember Bat-man, police, or bloody lady. Come on in."

Turn to Batman and nod.

"They may be a cowardly and superstitious lot, but they all speak the international language of money. Now hurry up and get her on the table."

 

[Green Lantern]

The first man's head appeared over the horizon of the building, and Dick let loose the throwing star. As the sharp steel points ripped into the flesh of his knuckles, the Triad man screamed in agony. The gun fell from his hand clattering noisily on the street below. With the star embedded in his right hand, now pouring blood, the man held on for dear life with his left hand, trying desperately to ignore the pain shooting through his other arm. Dick ran over to the hanging man, and looked down at his agonized face, his partner had dropped to the fire escape landing, knowing that he'd better not wait for the other man to fall, and as Dick's face appeared above him, he cursed in Japanese and fired three shots at the teenager. Again his aim was poor and two of the three shots went into the back of his partner. The man fell to the landing, all the life gone from his eyes, as the two rounds pierced his heart. As his friend looked up again, Dick was gone, again.

Dick breathed slow and deep as he hid behind an air conditioning unit on the roof. The noise of the unit masked whatever sound his breaths made as he heard the other man climb the noisy metal ladder. About a minute passed, but it seemed like an eternity. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the fear was setting in. What the hell am I thinking? These men have ****ing guns. I'm just a kid with some ancient weapons and sparring gear. I must be ****ing crazy.

He had pulled the escrima sticks from their loops on his belt, and breathed deeply one last time to calm himself as he heard the soft thud of booted feet on the padded roof top. He quickly spun out of his hiding spot and let one of the carbon sticks fly at his opponent. The man coughed and fell to his knees as the stick hit its mark, leaving a bright red welt right on the man's Adam's apple. Dick approached the man as he tried to get up from his knees, as his throat started to open again. Through water filled eyes, the man barely saw Dick's foot as the teen delivered a solid roundhouse kick to his right eye socket.

 

[Saved]

(BATGIRL)​

Jumping to the ground without a seconds hesitation, I hit the hard asphalt with the bony part of my shoulder. Without time to let out a yelp, I roll to my right, seeking refuge beneath a parked car as a fireball is hurled toward me. Missing it narrowly, the orb explodes in a cluster of hot, searing flames just inches from my face. The heat singes my skin, and I feel the mask over my face begin to sting as it heats up from the blast.​

"Aw, come on, Batgirl," the fiery felon laughs. "I want to fight, not play hide and seek." ​

Easy for you to say, bucko. You've got super-powers. Man, it's times like these I really start to hate myself. I'm prepared to fight criminals, not meta-humans. Jeez, to be honest, I thought they were a myth. No one actually believes those stories.​

"Alright, if you don't come out, I'll have to make you."
Right; I'm in the middle of a supervillain fight. Guess I'll have to hold off on the internal monologue a bit. Might do me some good to actually keep my focus on the present and not my thoughts.​

Rolling out from under the car, I grab the taser from my belt and take aim as I crouch behind the hood of the vehicle. Using the best precision I have, I line up the top of the weapon with the fire-creep's torso, aiming for the biggest portion of his body.​

"Hey, flameface!" I shout, getting his attention. "Do me a favor, would you?" As my finger pulls back on the trigger, two wire cables project from the front of the device. Moving quickly through the air, the cables find their target with ease, hitting him just below the belt. As the metal hooks dig through his pants and into his skin, I hold down on the button and send a powerful charge through the wires and into his body. "Shut the **** up." ​

As the charge surges through his body, his eyes widen and his hands reach down toward the hooks lodged in his body. As the taser continues to send it's electric pulse into him, his muscles twinge and convulse, causing him to drop down to his knees. The fiery aura about him begins to dissipate as he loses control, changing to a faint smoke that wafts up into the air.​

"Yeah, not so tough now, huh?" I grin as I move in closer. With my free hand, I reach to my belt and pull out one of the plasticuffs, preparing to restrain him. "Alright, you're through. Can't wait to see how they decide to lock you up. I'll bet they cover you in some kind of fire ******ant gel - or maybe they'll just put you in a tank of water for the rest of your life. Yeah, haha, then they can call you 'pool boy', or maybe-"​

"Y-You know something?" Hotstreak asks softly, looking up and staring into my eyes. "You're gonna pay for that." Before I can take another breath his body ignites in a blaze once again, burning away the cables and freeing him from the taser's shock. As he rises to his feet, a wide and haunting grin comes across his face. He stares at me with malice, his brown irises suddenly changing to red.​

"Oh..." I say, taking a step back as I drop the taser to the ground. "So...you're okay... good, heh heh."
"Oh, yes - I'm just fine. I'll bet you're sorry you did that, now, huh?" I nod unintentionally - sorry, I'm kinda focused on what he's gonna do next to concentrate. "You know what you're about to be? ... An ash-hole."
" ... okay, now I'm really sorry I didn't incapacitate you."​

"You're a real talker, aren't you? Ha ha, don't worry," he says as he steps closer toward me. "I'll fix that problem ... permanently."
"So ... I'm gonna guess you failed witty banter at the supervillain academy, huh?" His teeth clench together as he raises his hand, igniting a ball of flame within his palm.
"Shut UP!" He growls as he begins his assault, hurling multiple orbs of burning fire at my body. "I can't wait to smell your burning flesh!"​

"Wow," I say as I evade his attack, jumping and flipping without stop as I continue to dodge his advances. "You've really got some issues, huh?"
"Laugh now, Batgirl ... While you can."​

He does have a point, I can't keep this up forever. Sooner or later I'll get tired - and that's when he'll get the best of me. I've got to think of a plan; something clever and improvised. What stops a man made of fire?​

As I scan my surroundings, I analyze every object within the viscinity. I see the parked cars, the mailbox at the street corner, and the traffic lights just before that. It's a wide open plane, that's for sure - there just doesn't seem to be anything useful. We're no where near the pier or the docks, so that's out of the question. And there's never a random fire-truck around when you need one.​

Suddenly, an idea comes to mind - I almost feel as if a lightbulb just appeared above my head. As I search the sidewalk across the street, the object I seek suddenly catches my eyes.​

That's it! Fire hydrant. Now all I have to do is keep him distracted long enough to get to it ... oh, and, you know - figure out how to open it. Life's never easy...​

Jumping over the trunk of one of the cars, I land in the middle of the street, beginning to make my way toward the fire hydrant across the way. "Hey, Hot-freak!" I call to him, hoping to enrage him more. "Nice goatee - if you're going for the trashy backstreet boy want-a-be, you're doing an awesome job!" ​

"What?! I'll kill you!"
"That's right, einstein,"I whisper under my breath as he runs toward me. "Play into my hands..."​

 

[Eddie Brock]

Martian Manhunter

J'onn J'onnz touches down gently in front of the high school, maintaining his invisibility. Never before has he been asked to pursue a target so young, but J'onn doesn't make it a habit to question orders. Rather, he takes on his human form - which has become so familiar to him by now - and resumes visibility. He makes his way through the front doors, where he is stopped by a hall monitor.

"Excuse me, sir! All visitors to the school are required to check-in!" the middle-aged woman announces in a sickeningly sweet voice. She holds up a clipboard with a sign-in sheet.

J'onn reaches into his jacket's inside pocket and produces his wallet. Reaching into the hall monitor's mind, he makes her believe that he is displaying a badge for the local police force. "Detective John Jones," the Martian announces in an official tone, "Would you kindly direct me to the principal's office?"

"Of course! Right this way!" the woman leads J'onn down the hallway, walking with small shuffling footsteps. Eventually, she comes to a rather abrupt stop in front of a large door. "This is it, Detective." And with a smile, she leaves to resume her post.

J'onn enters the office and is stopped once more by a secretary. "May I help you, sir?" J'onn once again fools the human into believing that she is looking at a police badge. "I'll see if Principal Joto is available," the secretary says politely. She presses the intercom button and says, "Ms. Joto, a Detective John Jones is here to see you."

Moments later, the door to the adjoining room opens, and a small pudgy woman emerges. J'onn takes her to be Principal Joto. "My apologies for intruding in the middle of a school day like this, miss. I need to speak with one of your students: Isaiah Crockett."

"Is he in some kind of trouble?" the principal asks concerned.

"No, ma'am. That's not it, I'm afraid. There's been a terrible accident involving the boy's parents," J'onn lies. He has perfected the craft in his time on Earth. "I've been sent to inform the boy, as well as retrieving him from classes to escort him to the hospital."

"Oh, dear. That's just terrible. We'll bring Isaiah down here right away," Principal Joto promises. She turns to her secretary, who in turn starts typing rapidly on her keyboard. After a moment, the secretary pulls up Isaiah Crockett's schedule and locates him. Without a word, the secretary gets up and leaves the office.

The secretary comes back moments later, followed closely by Isaiah. J'onn exchanges a glance with the principal, and she understands the message. Both Principal Joto and her secretary disappear into the adjoining room, closing the door behind them.

"It's probably best if we take this talk outside," J'onn suggests. He places his hand on Isaiah's shoulder and leads him out into the hallway. J'onn waves kindly to the hall monitor as he opens the door for Isaiah. Once they're outside, J'onn uses his telepathy to open a communication channel with his fellow CADMUS agents. "M2 to base. I have the boy."

"What?"

Without hesitation, J'onn wraps his arm around the boy's neck and puts him into a sleeper hold. In just a few seconds, Isaiah Crockett will be unconscious and ready for extraction. The boy struggles, so J'onn tries to reach into his mind and calm him. Before he can, however, Isaiah takes hold of the Martian's arm and begins to use his power. Isaiah's hands begin to burn into his captor's skin, and something unexpected happens.

With an inhuman scream, J'onn releases Isaiah. Two smoldering handprints are burned into the Martian's skin, which begins to return to its natural green shade. Isaiah takes off running as J'onn collapses on the ground. Losing control of his shape-shifting abilities, J'onn reverts back to his true Martian form, screaming and crying in pain.

"M2, this is base. Confirm that you still have the target!"

J'onn rolls over, searing pain still coursing through his system. The burns do not heal, but he has regained most of his composure. "The target escaped," J'onn admits sheepishly. He pulls himself to his feet and takes on his Manhunter form. "Beginning pursuit."
​

 

[J'adore]

"My Dearest, Fred. Would you like me to choke you any harder?"

Numerous chains, with a glowing purple aura fuzzing around them, were wrapped tightly around Fred Danver's neck, chocking him. He struggled to break free, his hands scratching and grabbing at the chains weakly. He was hovering in the air, his self near unconsciousness.

"Repulse! Stay where you are!"

Repulse turned her head, her arm still stretched out, holding the chains in place around Fred's neck. She looked down from the high metal platform that went across the whole building, looking over the warehouse floor. She could see the two detectives blasting through the broken doors. Quickly dropping her arm, Fred suddenly slammed to the wall next to him, slamming him out of consciousness. The chains broke off him and he slid down from the wall, lying on the ground, his eyes shut.

Hovering into the air and raising both her arms to 90 degrees, Repulse smirked and hovered herself over into the air above the bottom floor of the Warehouse. The iris in her eye was no purple, her hands now buzzed purple swirls of magnetic energy. She curled her fingers slightly back, as if she was scratching the air.

Ellen Yin and Dan Turpin quickly closed the door as and aimed their guns high at Repulse.

"Stay right where you are, Ma'am."

"Guns are no use, fools." Quickly curling her fingers all the way back into her palm, a purple glow shot around the gun. Ellen and Dan tried to firmly grip their gun, but it was no use. Ellen's gun shot out of her hand, flying up to the left hand of Repulse. But Dan was stronger, he wouldn't give up.

Then, watch of Dan too started to glow a deep purple, the gun and himself shooting up into the air, under the control of Repulse herself. "I'll just have to bring you up with the gun."

Repulse lowered her hands and then Jason shot to the ground and fall speed, his large hands now off his gun. Quickly flicking back her ebony black and ruffled hair, Repulse choked out a small chuckle and hovered herself back over to Fred.

"BACKUP BACKUP!"

SMASH

The doors smashed open with a great force, pieces of scrapped metal flying everywhere. A blur of red, black and blue shoot pass Ellen, blowing her hair in all directions. The blur then slams into Dan, catching him safely. The blur of speed then forms into, Supergirl. AKA Linda Danvers. Quickly shooting up into the air, Supergirl faced Repulse, rage filled her eyes.

"And who are you...****Girl?"

Without flinching her sour faced mouth, Supergirl swung back her leg and slammed her foot right up Repulse's chin, sending her flying over the platform and darting to the floor.

Supergirl panicked, she quickly saw the body of her Dad slumped against the wall, half of his body on the floor. He was unconscious and Supergirl couldn't bare the sight of him injured. Calling him by his first name, Supergirl gently lowered herself over him. "No! Fred!"

BUDDA BUDDA BUDDA BUDDA

"We have to get him to Medical attention!" Supergirl picked Fred up in her arms, rising into the air. She quickly looked down at the broken doors, could she leave the Police officers.

Dan Turpin had regained his gun and had no hesitation shooting at the falling body of Repulse. He had manged to hit Repulse in the shoulder, sending her into instant shock.

"I'll take that." Ellen Yin saw that Repulse clutched her gun, she quickly awaited until Repulse was lower. Ellen blasted up a roundhouse quick with full force and kicked the falling Repulse with great precision, knocking her back a few meters away from Dan and her self. The gun fell out of Repulse's hand, sliding slowly to Ellen's feet. Picking the gun up, Ellen aimed her gun slowly at Repulse, who now lay on the floor, limply.

"You've got good skills, Yin. Maybe I under estimated you."

"No, Commissioner. You've just never noticed me before."

Ignoring the comment of Ellen, Dan spoke into his communicator on his jacket, communicating to Maggie from the outside, ordering her to send in Helicopters and possibly a SWAT team.

"We've got back-up coming, get Fred to medical attention!"

Supergirl nodded and swooped low, holding Fred tight. She soared out through the broken doors and up into the sky, not too high but a fairly reasonable height. She could feel tears swelling up in her eyes.

--

Back in the car, Maggie waited silently, but reluctantly. She stepped out of the car, fixing up her communicator quickly.

"Officer Sawyer from the Metropolis Police Department, Commissioner Daniel Turpin has reported for--"

CHIKK

The communicator had been shot, the wires fuzzing out of it. But not by a bullet, instead a long thin sharp piece of metal.

"The name's Baxter Timmons - I'm sure you've heard of me, Maggie. Oh and just so you know, next time, it wont be a sharp piece of metal, it'll be a bullet. In your heart. But, that is if you don't follow my instructions and only my instructions. So...are we O.K then?"

Maggie's expression was now purely bitter, she didn't even open her mouth to the slightest inch.

"I'll take that as a yes then."
​

 

[Eddie Brock]

Martian Manhunter

The Martian curses under his breath in his native tongue. Never before has a target escaped so easily. And a child, no less! It was not a shining moment in the Manhunter's short career. Still, regaining control of his emotions, J'onn takes to the air, cloaking himself to the naked eye. Unfortunately, the boy had a more sizable lead than J'onn anticipated. He is nowhere to be seen.

Fortunately, J'onn does not need to rely on sight alone.

Reaching out with his mind, the Martian accesses the thoughts of every living human within a few miles.

~...wonder if he's going to call...~
~...sign this, fax that. If he only knew how much company time I spent on personal calls...~
~...of all days! Jesus, I don't even have a tire iron...~
~...happens to every guy once and a while, right? Oh man...~

~...Don't stop running! What was that thing?...~

J'onn locks onto the mental signature of his prey. His terror is palpable, and it leaves an invisible trail for the Manhunter to follow. Allowing himself to become intangible, J'onn slips unnoticed through buildings, cars, and even people in his pursuit. Finally, the panicking boy comes into sight. J'onn reaches into his mind and shuts down his powers. Isaiah doesn't even notice.

The Martian slips ahead of his target and becomes tangible once more. The boy doesn't react in time. Slamming into J'onn's chest, Isaiah falls flat on the ground with a dull thud. J'onn, however, doesn't move - merely crossing his arms as the boy raises his hands in defense. "No more," J'onn states calmly. The handprint-shaped burns on his arms are still noticeable. "You are currently discovering that your powers aren't responding. I have deactivated them."

Isaiah looks at the Martian Manhunter in fear. A tattered cape billows behind the imposing figure, clad in midnight black. He stands at approximately six and a half feet tall, with sickly green skin. His eyes burn a terrifying shade of red, and all the teeth in his mouth as exposed. Every detail of J'onn's Manhunter appearance is designed to instill terror. It's working perfectly on Isaiah Crockett.

"Resist any further, and I will be forced to perform the unsavory task of shutting down your other mental processes," the nightmarish creature threatens in a cold, calculating tone. The boy remains completely still, not wishing to call the Manhunter's bluff. J'onn unfolds his arms and announces, "Isaiah Crockett, you are wanted for questioning by CADMUS."

Another successful hunt - albeit an interrupted one.

***

"J'onn, I am told zat something unexpected happened on your last mission," Dr. Sivana explains curiously from the other side of the glass. "Is it true zat the metahuman vas able - temporarily, at least - to disable you und attempt an escape?"

J'onn opens his crimson eyes. He doesn't appreciate Sivana's choice of words. He says "disable" as if J'onn is a machine, something that can be turned on and off. Nevertheless, he answers, "Yes. The metahuman surprised me with his abilities. I should have taken a more cautious approach."

Sivana makes notes on his clipboard. "You have encountered many metahumans with a vide range of abilities, und yet none before have given you much trouble," he observes. "Even Arthur Light vasn't much of a challenge for you."

"Neither was this boy - once I knew what I was dealing with," J'onn states directly.

Sivana nods, chewing on the end of his pen. "Vell, then, how do you rationalize zat?" he asks dubiously as he points to the still-lingering burn marks on J'onn's arm. "Ve have studied your Martian anatomy extensively, und your regenerative abilities are without parallel. Yet, even after all zis time, zat particular wound has healed only marginally."

J'onn glances down at the burns. "I have no more explanation than you, Doctor."

"Mmm." Sivana pauses, never taking his eyes off the burn marks. Then, finally, he meets J'onn's gaze and continues, "Vell, it seems your race still has many mysteries left to solve. For now, might I suggest zat you simply get some rest und put zis matter behind us?"

"I already have," J'onn answers dismissively. "If you'll excuse me, Doctor, I'd like to finish up my meditation." Sivana nods, and J'onn closes his eyes. As Sivana leaves, J'onn calls out, "Assure everyone that I will be ready for the next mission."
​

 

[Green Lantern]

Dick breathed slow and deep as he hid behind an air conditioning unit on the roof. The noise of the unit masked whatever sound his breaths made as he heard the other man climb the noisy metal ladder. About a minute passed, but it seemed like an eternity. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the fear was setting in. What the hell am I thinking? These men have ****ing guns. I'm just a kid with some ancient weapons and sparring gear. I must be ****ing crazy.

He had pulled the escrima sticks from their loops on his belt, and breathed deeply one last time to calm himself as he heard the soft thud of booted feet on the padded roof top. He quickly spun out of his hiding spot and let one of the carbon sticks fly at his opponent. The man coughed and fell to his knees as the stick hit its mark, leaving a bright red welt right on the man's Adam's apple. Dick approached the man as he tried to get up from his knees, as his throat started to open again. Through water filled eyes, the man barely saw Dick's foot as the teen delivered a solid roundhouse kick to his right eye socket.

Dick threw the mans gun off the building to the street below, and watched as a semi ran over it with leaving a crumpled and useless bit of metal. Dick then jumped from the roof back down to the fire escape landing and then down to the alley. As he walked back towards the tower, he realized how stupid it was to walk everywhere. He needed a better way to get around.

Twelve blocks from the tower and he was fatigued, both mentally and physically from the night's events. That's when he was caught by surprise. A hand jetted from a dark alley and pulled him in. Before he knew what was going on, a fist drove into his stomach. It didn't hurt much with the padding, and he could tell that the person wasn't making a tight fist. He gathered his senses and saw four street toughs circling him. Triad they weren't, just random punks looking for an easy mark to mug. They didn't have a clue in heaven as to what they were getting themselves into.

"Comin home from a costoom party brat?"

"Where do you keep your wallet in those pajamas?"

"Or are you goin to a sleepover."

They wouldn't shut up as Dick surveyed his opponents.

"Didn't you know? Your mother invited me to spend the night."

The leader of the gang lunged at Grayson throwing a haymaker wildly at the teen's head. Instincts kicked in as Dick balled his left hand into a tight fist, making the muscle rock hard on his forearm. As that hand went up in a block, the other hand shot up and clamped the attacker's wrist in a lock. Dick shifted his weight to his right foot and used the momentum to throw his assailant to the ground, the bones in his wrist making a sound sickeningly reminiscent of twigs on a fall sidewalk. Dick quickly snapped a kick at the back of the man's head, sending him sprawling face first to the sidewalk. The man's front teeth splintered leaving blood and tooth fragments in a pool under his head. Two of the others took advantage of Dick's preoccupation with their leader and started hammering into him. Two fists connected with either side of the teens face, one of which drew blood as it broke the skin under his eye. Dick spun and delivered a knife hand chop to one of the men's throat, sending him to his knees. As the other one lunged at him again, he rolled forward, sending the man hurtling into trash cans from his own momentum. In all this chaos the last man had fled. Dick pulled out his escrima sticks as the man he sent to his knees got back up. As the man charged him, Dick side stepped and delivered the rod to the man's temple, drawing blood and dropping the man to his back, knocked unconscious. Finally the third man ran at him again, this time with a knife.

"Don't run with sharp objects!"

Dick delivered a side kick to the man's knee and he tumbled forward, crashing down with his face on the blade he had brandished. Dick looked squeamishly on as he saw the knife sink about an inch into the man's eye socket.

"You're liable to lose an eye."