“Fun, huh?” Dick asked, dusting some bits of gravel from his elbow.
“Fun,” Damian nodded.
The brothers had made it back to Wayne Manor after a night of minor crime stopping. Damian was just getting out of the dark hoodie he has worn on patrol. A carjacker had been made a very unhappy crook. A shoplifter had to return their loot.
Overall, a successful night.
A night that was about to go sideways.
Bruce Wayne walked through the front door. With Slade Wilson in tow. He lacked his Deathstroke suit, instead wearing plain white shirt, pants, and shoes.
“Father, watch out!” Damian warned, rushing towards Slade. He sprang up in the air, readying a powerful kick.
“Boys, wait,” Bruce said, catching Damian mid-leap.
“I just locked this guy up,” Dick complained.
“And I got him out,” Bruce said, “He’s going to help us take down the Riddler.”
“Sure, totally,” Dick scoffed, “It’s not like he’s ON THE RIDDLER’S PAYROLL OR ANYTHING!”
“Dick, he was only working for the Riddler because the Riddler took his daughter hostage,” Bruce explained.
“Does Deathstroke seem like a family man to you?” Dick asked, “Like a father?”
“Do I?” Bruce countered. Dick lowered his head.
“I am only here to help rescue my daughter. Once that is done, I will return to captivity,” Slade confirmed.
“Bruce, when has trusting the bad guys ever worked?” Dick asked in a soft tone.
“Waller equipped him with an implant in his neck,” Bruce said.
“You let her put a bomb in him?” Dick exclaimed.
“A shock collar,” Slade corrected, “Of sorts.”
“He steps out of line, I set off the device, rendering him unconscious,” Bruce said, “I will have the detonator on me at all times.”
Dick sighed, “Fine. When are we gonna do this thing?”
“Tomorrow night, preferably,” Bruce said.
“He is staying the night?” Damian asked, incredulously.
“He is,” Bruce nodded, setting Damian down.
“Your father will set the device on a timer, so that I am not able to kill you all while you are sleeping,” Slade said.
“Comforting,” Dick said.
“Dick, Tim will be back tomorrow. Then we can all face off against Deathstroke together,” Bruce said, “For now, we need to rest up. Slade, you get the couch.”
Bruce put Damian on his shoulders and started up the stairs.
“Homewrecker,” Dick growled at Slade. He followed Bruce and Damian.
“Dick.”
Dick turned around to look at Slade, “Was that an insult or you calling after me?”
“Calling after you,” Slade said.
“Well what do you want to talk about, Deathstroke?” Dick asked, walked back to Slade.
“I don’t like this. I don’t like seeing those I’ve affected with my violence after the job is done,” Slade admitted, “The look in your father’s eyes when he remembers his friend’s death. It’s haunting.”
Dick stood silently.
“I’m not saying I’m ashamed of my actions,” Slade said, “I do what I do to make money and survive. But I am saying that… well- I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”
“Figure it out, Slade,” Dick said.
Slade swallowed.
“My father has been clawing his way out of a dark pit. Inside of him. He’s been winning the fight against his demons. He’s more cheery than he’s ever been. Hell, it’s almost off-putting. But it’s good for him. And here you come barging into his home. You. The man who killed his friend who was escaping his demons as well. Don’t send him back to the dark place. Or I won’t hold back.”
Slade stepped back, nervously.
“I’m not the boy I once was,” Dick stated, “Not even the man I once was. I’m something different. I’ll be the happy Nightwing when I can be. But when the time comes? I’m more than happy to go dark. You don’t want to see my dark.”
“Jesus, kid, you know how to welcome a guest,” Slade gulped.
“Goodnight, Slade,” Dick said, heading upstairs.
- - -
Tim looked at his hand. It felt as if it wasn’t even there. What was? There?
Tim blinked and the world, or lack thereof, swirled around him in frames. One of his earpieces shuddered. He wasn’t sure if it was sending out a pulse or protecting him from a prolonged death by radiation poisoning.
Not sure what to do, Tim just floated. He reflected on what had led his life to this point. It began with saving the life of Bruce Wayne. Not by jumping in front of a bullet, or taking down an assailant. Those were what saving Bruce would lead to.
To save Bruce Wayne, Tim had to become Robin. Something he had always wanted to do, regardless. Quickly deducing the identities of Batman and the two Robins, Tim approached Bruce Wayne and volunteered to take up the mantle of the fallen Jason Todd. Of course, he had allowed time for Bruce to grieve. A whole few months. In those months, Bruce nearly went mad. Incredibly violent. More violent than after Oswald died. He needed a light to balance his darkness. Tim provided that light.
He created a suit for himself as Robin. A dark domino mask to match Batman, but with reds and yellows to honor past Robins. Bruce had been slow to accept, but Tim’s passion and intellect finally landed him the spot. So he fought crime as Robin. His suit was fantastic. He remembered that. Wings that would extend from his torso up to his wrists when he spread his arms. High tech scanners in the mask. Smooth movements.
But he had destroyed it. He wanted to become a hero of his own. He was Red Robin. A dark cowl and a golden harness across his chest, with his brand new insignia in the middle. He couldn’t stay separated from his hero for long. He floated back to Batman. He worked with him more. More. Helped with the Deathstroke and Black Mask crisis. While working on the Instantaneous Transportation Stations with Tam. He focused on Deathstroke and Black Mask while early in the planning of the I.T.S. What if? What if he had caused this? A flaw in his calculations while not paying attention?
No.
Even if he did, it wouldn’t matter. Not if he could find Tam. And save her.
Tim’s mind shook. A pulse had returned. It returned with a signature. A heat signature.
Tamara Fox.
Tim shot across the Phantom Zone. Faster than he had ever traveled. Faster than anyone has ever traveled. For the moment, he was the fastest man alive.
He could see her. Her bright eyes and her pointed chin. Her frizzy hair that shot out in all directions. Her thin, bare, and untattered body. All this time in the Phantom Zone and nothing had changed. Well, her hair had grown out quite a bit. But she looked well fed. What was there to eat?
“You’re alive,” Tim said, eyes welling up.
“So are you,” Tam smiled back.
Tim embraced Tam, squeezing her as hard as he could.
“Clothes,” Tam whispered into Tim’s ear, “I’d like to get some clothes before we start hugging.”
“Yeah,” Tim laughed in a short burst, with tears streaming down his face, “Yeah that’d be smart.”
Tim hugged Tam one more time.
“You sure you’re not just hugging me because I’m unclothed?” Tam snickered.
“All this effort and this is the reception I get,” Tim joked, not letting go. Though he did ease up. He just held onto her arms, careful to not let go.
Suddenly, the Phantom Zone around them faded. The nothingness faded, giving way to room Tim had stood in only hours earlier.
The room was quickly sucked dry of all radiation. Michael Holt strode into the room moments after.
“It worked,” Michael noted, sizing up Tam.
“C’mon man, don’t look,” Tim scoffed, “She’s naked.”
“That’s rich coming from you, Drake,” Tam snorted.
“Mr. Drake, I am simply observing a being that survived in the Phantom Zone for 354 days. Nearly a year,” Michael Holt responded.
“But can we get her some clothes first?” Tim asked.
“Can we?” Tam raised her hand.
“Of course,” Michael nodded, “One of my partners is getting some as we speak. Ms. Fox, after you get dressed, you will be taken to a holding cell. We will provide comfort as you request it. However, you will be held here as we study you.”
“Study me?” Tam squinted, “No thanks.”
“She’s not staying here,” Tim said, “That’s for sure. She can come back to Gotham. Or go wherever. But she won’t be held here.”
“She is of great interest to not only ARGUS, but me personally,” Michael explained.
“I’m going home. I’m going to see my father.”
“No, Ms. Fox. In time, you will see your family. But we will need at least five weeks,” Michael stated.
In an instant, Tam’s fists were engulfed in purple energy.
“That!” Michael exclaimed, eyes sparkling, “That is why you must be studied!”
Tam stared at her fists in astonishment, “What-?”
“Energy. Perhaps from the Phantom Zone. Who knows what can be done with this energy?” Michael beamed.
“No,” Tam glowered.
“Ms. Fox-”
“Enough Ms. Fox,” Tam said.
“Tamara, that energy could be deadly to yourself or others,” Michael said, suddenly stern-faced, “You must stay here at least as long as it takes for us to deduce what that energy is.”
Tam looked at Tim sullenly. She didn’t want to endanger him with the energy.
“One week,” Tam said.
“Tam-” Tim pleaded.
“I’ll see my father in one week. Don’t tell him about me yet. It can be a surprise,” Tam smiled, putting a hand on Tim’s shoulder, “I’ll be fine here.”
“Wonderful,” Michael said, clasping his hands together.
“Then I’m staying too,” Tim said.
“If you insist,” Michael said.
Hannah Polovich came rushing into the room with loose fitting gray clothes for Tam. She beamed upon seeing Tim.
“You made it,” Hannah said.
“How else would I be here?” Tam questioned, throwing on the clothes.
“It’s just good to see you’re both alive,” Hannah said, “Come with me. I’ll take you to your rooms.”
The two of them followed Hannah out of the room. Michael collapsed in a rolling chair and breathed a sigh of relief.
“I don’t know how you do it, Amanda,” Michael grunted.
“Waller,” Amanda Waller’s voice corrected over an intercom, “Not Amanda.”
“Sorry,” Michael said pointedly, “Waller.”
“You did your job, Dr. Holt,” Waller stated, “You did well.”
“I manipulated them,” Michael said, “This hard-edged, stone-faced, emotionless man- it’s not me. I’m not just your tool, Waller.”
“Of course not,” Waller agreed, “But you wanted on this job. You wanted to know more about the Phantom Zone, and harness its energy. To do so, you need to help me discover more about Timothy Drake and Tamara Fox. How they were affected. It will require manipulation.”
“And what are you going to tell Tim’s friends and family?” Michael asked.
“You mean Batman?” Waller mused.
“Yeah,” Michael nodded. He had also figured out Batman’s identity quickly.
“I’ll make something up. It will be dealt with. You focus on learning all you can from Timothy and Tamara.”
- - -
Dick wiped the crust from his eyes as he entered the kitchen, wearing his loose fitting Batman pajamas. It was dimly lit, with counters running along the sides of the small room, with cupboards above them, and an island in the middle. He threw open a cupboard full of…
“Grocery run,” Dick noted.
“My bad,” Slade said from behind Dick. Dick leapt a few feet into the air.
“Christ, Slade,” Dick panted, clutching his chest.
Slade stirred a mug full of coffee, “I made some myself some breakfast. Didn’t eat it all.”
Slade pointed over to a plate with some leftover scrambled eggs that sat in a sink.
“Thanks,” Dick scowled. He stared down Slade for a moment, then moved for the plate. He fished it out the sink, and scraped the eggs into his mouth with his hand.
“Anytime, kid,” Slade said, sipping his steaming coffee.
“So I’m still alive,” Dick said, wiping the remains of the eggs from the corners of his mouth.
“And what’s that tell you about me?” Slade smiled.
“That my dad knocked you out with a quick shock,” Dick said.
“Or perhaps you’re not my target,” Slade raised an eyebrow, “Because if I wanted you dead-”
Slade slid his coffee cup against the island, gripped the sides of the island and the counter, hefted himself up, and kicked Dick in the chest. Dick stumbled back, hitting his tailbone against the oven. The oven fell open, and Dick slumped to the side. Slade gripped his head and thrust it into the oven.
“-You’d be dead,” Slade finished. He released Dick, stood back up, and continued drinking his coffee.
Dick pulled himself out of the oven, and screamed, “What the hell man?”
“Just proving a point,” Slade said.
Dick stormed away.
Bruce came hustling in only moment later. “What’s going on?” he demanded.
“Cup-a-jamoke,” Slade lifted his mug.
“And the scream?” Bruce growled.
“Your son,” Slade said, “I tossed him into the oven.”
Bruce was on Slade in a moment, gripping his next, and shoving him against a counter.
“Come off it!” Slade grunted, tossing Bruce to the side, “I let him out.”
“Bruce, I’m fine,” Dick said, back in the doorway, “He’s just an asshole.”
Bruce walked away from Slade, “Don’t try anything like that again.”
NEXT TIME ON BATMAN: ETERNAL...
“This looks like a team,” Slade pointed out.
“I will never be on a team with a killer like yourself,” Bruce said, “This is a team-up. Not a team. Different things entirely.”
“Okay, okay, so this is a team-up. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“What’s the plan, Bruce?” Dick asked.
“We launch a full assault on Nygma’s headquarters. Tonight. We make our move at 22:00."
- - -
“For every piece of fancy tech on that belt, I have one better,” Riddler bragged, drawing a golden sphere from his pocket. He ran his finger down the ball. It unfolded as if it were an apple being peeled. The strips of gold intertwined to form the hook of a question mark, suspended a few inches away from the core of the sphere.
Batman flicked a few Batarangs at Riddler. The hook spun with a mind of its own, deflecting the Batarangs with ease.
“Fun,” Damian nodded.
The brothers had made it back to Wayne Manor after a night of minor crime stopping. Damian was just getting out of the dark hoodie he has worn on patrol. A carjacker had been made a very unhappy crook. A shoplifter had to return their loot.
Overall, a successful night.
A night that was about to go sideways.
Bruce Wayne walked through the front door. With Slade Wilson in tow. He lacked his Deathstroke suit, instead wearing plain white shirt, pants, and shoes.
“Father, watch out!” Damian warned, rushing towards Slade. He sprang up in the air, readying a powerful kick.
“Boys, wait,” Bruce said, catching Damian mid-leap.
“I just locked this guy up,” Dick complained.
“And I got him out,” Bruce said, “He’s going to help us take down the Riddler.”
“Sure, totally,” Dick scoffed, “It’s not like he’s ON THE RIDDLER’S PAYROLL OR ANYTHING!”
“Dick, he was only working for the Riddler because the Riddler took his daughter hostage,” Bruce explained.
“Does Deathstroke seem like a family man to you?” Dick asked, “Like a father?”
“Do I?” Bruce countered. Dick lowered his head.
“I am only here to help rescue my daughter. Once that is done, I will return to captivity,” Slade confirmed.
“Bruce, when has trusting the bad guys ever worked?” Dick asked in a soft tone.
“Waller equipped him with an implant in his neck,” Bruce said.
“You let her put a bomb in him?” Dick exclaimed.
“A shock collar,” Slade corrected, “Of sorts.”
“He steps out of line, I set off the device, rendering him unconscious,” Bruce said, “I will have the detonator on me at all times.”
Dick sighed, “Fine. When are we gonna do this thing?”
“Tomorrow night, preferably,” Bruce said.
“He is staying the night?” Damian asked, incredulously.
“He is,” Bruce nodded, setting Damian down.
“Your father will set the device on a timer, so that I am not able to kill you all while you are sleeping,” Slade said.
“Comforting,” Dick said.
“Dick, Tim will be back tomorrow. Then we can all face off against Deathstroke together,” Bruce said, “For now, we need to rest up. Slade, you get the couch.”
Bruce put Damian on his shoulders and started up the stairs.
“Homewrecker,” Dick growled at Slade. He followed Bruce and Damian.
“Dick.”
Dick turned around to look at Slade, “Was that an insult or you calling after me?”
“Calling after you,” Slade said.
“Well what do you want to talk about, Deathstroke?” Dick asked, walked back to Slade.
“I don’t like this. I don’t like seeing those I’ve affected with my violence after the job is done,” Slade admitted, “The look in your father’s eyes when he remembers his friend’s death. It’s haunting.”
Dick stood silently.
“I’m not saying I’m ashamed of my actions,” Slade said, “I do what I do to make money and survive. But I am saying that… well- I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”
“Figure it out, Slade,” Dick said.
Slade swallowed.
“My father has been clawing his way out of a dark pit. Inside of him. He’s been winning the fight against his demons. He’s more cheery than he’s ever been. Hell, it’s almost off-putting. But it’s good for him. And here you come barging into his home. You. The man who killed his friend who was escaping his demons as well. Don’t send him back to the dark place. Or I won’t hold back.”
Slade stepped back, nervously.
“I’m not the boy I once was,” Dick stated, “Not even the man I once was. I’m something different. I’ll be the happy Nightwing when I can be. But when the time comes? I’m more than happy to go dark. You don’t want to see my dark.”
“Jesus, kid, you know how to welcome a guest,” Slade gulped.
“Goodnight, Slade,” Dick said, heading upstairs.
- - -
Tim looked at his hand. It felt as if it wasn’t even there. What was? There?
Tim blinked and the world, or lack thereof, swirled around him in frames. One of his earpieces shuddered. He wasn’t sure if it was sending out a pulse or protecting him from a prolonged death by radiation poisoning.
Not sure what to do, Tim just floated. He reflected on what had led his life to this point. It began with saving the life of Bruce Wayne. Not by jumping in front of a bullet, or taking down an assailant. Those were what saving Bruce would lead to.
To save Bruce Wayne, Tim had to become Robin. Something he had always wanted to do, regardless. Quickly deducing the identities of Batman and the two Robins, Tim approached Bruce Wayne and volunteered to take up the mantle of the fallen Jason Todd. Of course, he had allowed time for Bruce to grieve. A whole few months. In those months, Bruce nearly went mad. Incredibly violent. More violent than after Oswald died. He needed a light to balance his darkness. Tim provided that light.
He created a suit for himself as Robin. A dark domino mask to match Batman, but with reds and yellows to honor past Robins. Bruce had been slow to accept, but Tim’s passion and intellect finally landed him the spot. So he fought crime as Robin. His suit was fantastic. He remembered that. Wings that would extend from his torso up to his wrists when he spread his arms. High tech scanners in the mask. Smooth movements.
But he had destroyed it. He wanted to become a hero of his own. He was Red Robin. A dark cowl and a golden harness across his chest, with his brand new insignia in the middle. He couldn’t stay separated from his hero for long. He floated back to Batman. He worked with him more. More. Helped with the Deathstroke and Black Mask crisis. While working on the Instantaneous Transportation Stations with Tam. He focused on Deathstroke and Black Mask while early in the planning of the I.T.S. What if? What if he had caused this? A flaw in his calculations while not paying attention?
No.
Even if he did, it wouldn’t matter. Not if he could find Tam. And save her.
Tim’s mind shook. A pulse had returned. It returned with a signature. A heat signature.
Tamara Fox.
Tim shot across the Phantom Zone. Faster than he had ever traveled. Faster than anyone has ever traveled. For the moment, he was the fastest man alive.
He could see her. Her bright eyes and her pointed chin. Her frizzy hair that shot out in all directions. Her thin, bare, and untattered body. All this time in the Phantom Zone and nothing had changed. Well, her hair had grown out quite a bit. But she looked well fed. What was there to eat?
“You’re alive,” Tim said, eyes welling up.
“So are you,” Tam smiled back.
Tim embraced Tam, squeezing her as hard as he could.
“Clothes,” Tam whispered into Tim’s ear, “I’d like to get some clothes before we start hugging.”
“Yeah,” Tim laughed in a short burst, with tears streaming down his face, “Yeah that’d be smart.”
Tim hugged Tam one more time.
“You sure you’re not just hugging me because I’m unclothed?” Tam snickered.
“All this effort and this is the reception I get,” Tim joked, not letting go. Though he did ease up. He just held onto her arms, careful to not let go.
Suddenly, the Phantom Zone around them faded. The nothingness faded, giving way to room Tim had stood in only hours earlier.
The room was quickly sucked dry of all radiation. Michael Holt strode into the room moments after.
“It worked,” Michael noted, sizing up Tam.
“C’mon man, don’t look,” Tim scoffed, “She’s naked.”
“That’s rich coming from you, Drake,” Tam snorted.
“Mr. Drake, I am simply observing a being that survived in the Phantom Zone for 354 days. Nearly a year,” Michael Holt responded.
“But can we get her some clothes first?” Tim asked.
“Can we?” Tam raised her hand.
“Of course,” Michael nodded, “One of my partners is getting some as we speak. Ms. Fox, after you get dressed, you will be taken to a holding cell. We will provide comfort as you request it. However, you will be held here as we study you.”
“Study me?” Tam squinted, “No thanks.”
“She’s not staying here,” Tim said, “That’s for sure. She can come back to Gotham. Or go wherever. But she won’t be held here.”
“She is of great interest to not only ARGUS, but me personally,” Michael explained.
“I’m going home. I’m going to see my father.”
“No, Ms. Fox. In time, you will see your family. But we will need at least five weeks,” Michael stated.
In an instant, Tam’s fists were engulfed in purple energy.
“That!” Michael exclaimed, eyes sparkling, “That is why you must be studied!”
Tam stared at her fists in astonishment, “What-?”
“Energy. Perhaps from the Phantom Zone. Who knows what can be done with this energy?” Michael beamed.
“No,” Tam glowered.
“Ms. Fox-”
“Enough Ms. Fox,” Tam said.
“Tamara, that energy could be deadly to yourself or others,” Michael said, suddenly stern-faced, “You must stay here at least as long as it takes for us to deduce what that energy is.”
Tam looked at Tim sullenly. She didn’t want to endanger him with the energy.
“One week,” Tam said.
“Tam-” Tim pleaded.
“I’ll see my father in one week. Don’t tell him about me yet. It can be a surprise,” Tam smiled, putting a hand on Tim’s shoulder, “I’ll be fine here.”
“Wonderful,” Michael said, clasping his hands together.
“Then I’m staying too,” Tim said.
“If you insist,” Michael said.
Hannah Polovich came rushing into the room with loose fitting gray clothes for Tam. She beamed upon seeing Tim.
“You made it,” Hannah said.
“How else would I be here?” Tam questioned, throwing on the clothes.
“It’s just good to see you’re both alive,” Hannah said, “Come with me. I’ll take you to your rooms.”
The two of them followed Hannah out of the room. Michael collapsed in a rolling chair and breathed a sigh of relief.
“I don’t know how you do it, Amanda,” Michael grunted.
“Waller,” Amanda Waller’s voice corrected over an intercom, “Not Amanda.”
“Sorry,” Michael said pointedly, “Waller.”
“You did your job, Dr. Holt,” Waller stated, “You did well.”
“I manipulated them,” Michael said, “This hard-edged, stone-faced, emotionless man- it’s not me. I’m not just your tool, Waller.”
“Of course not,” Waller agreed, “But you wanted on this job. You wanted to know more about the Phantom Zone, and harness its energy. To do so, you need to help me discover more about Timothy Drake and Tamara Fox. How they were affected. It will require manipulation.”
“And what are you going to tell Tim’s friends and family?” Michael asked.
“You mean Batman?” Waller mused.
“Yeah,” Michael nodded. He had also figured out Batman’s identity quickly.
“I’ll make something up. It will be dealt with. You focus on learning all you can from Timothy and Tamara.”
- - -
Dick wiped the crust from his eyes as he entered the kitchen, wearing his loose fitting Batman pajamas. It was dimly lit, with counters running along the sides of the small room, with cupboards above them, and an island in the middle. He threw open a cupboard full of…
“Grocery run,” Dick noted.
“My bad,” Slade said from behind Dick. Dick leapt a few feet into the air.
“Christ, Slade,” Dick panted, clutching his chest.
Slade stirred a mug full of coffee, “I made some myself some breakfast. Didn’t eat it all.”
Slade pointed over to a plate with some leftover scrambled eggs that sat in a sink.
“Thanks,” Dick scowled. He stared down Slade for a moment, then moved for the plate. He fished it out the sink, and scraped the eggs into his mouth with his hand.
“Anytime, kid,” Slade said, sipping his steaming coffee.
“So I’m still alive,” Dick said, wiping the remains of the eggs from the corners of his mouth.
“And what’s that tell you about me?” Slade smiled.
“That my dad knocked you out with a quick shock,” Dick said.
“Or perhaps you’re not my target,” Slade raised an eyebrow, “Because if I wanted you dead-”
Slade slid his coffee cup against the island, gripped the sides of the island and the counter, hefted himself up, and kicked Dick in the chest. Dick stumbled back, hitting his tailbone against the oven. The oven fell open, and Dick slumped to the side. Slade gripped his head and thrust it into the oven.
“-You’d be dead,” Slade finished. He released Dick, stood back up, and continued drinking his coffee.
Dick pulled himself out of the oven, and screamed, “What the hell man?”
“Just proving a point,” Slade said.
Dick stormed away.
Bruce came hustling in only moment later. “What’s going on?” he demanded.
“Cup-a-jamoke,” Slade lifted his mug.
“And the scream?” Bruce growled.
“Your son,” Slade said, “I tossed him into the oven.”
Bruce was on Slade in a moment, gripping his next, and shoving him against a counter.
“Come off it!” Slade grunted, tossing Bruce to the side, “I let him out.”
“Bruce, I’m fine,” Dick said, back in the doorway, “He’s just an asshole.”
Bruce walked away from Slade, “Don’t try anything like that again.”
NEXT TIME ON BATMAN: ETERNAL...
“This looks like a team,” Slade pointed out.
“I will never be on a team with a killer like yourself,” Bruce said, “This is a team-up. Not a team. Different things entirely.”
“Okay, okay, so this is a team-up. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“What’s the plan, Bruce?” Dick asked.
“We launch a full assault on Nygma’s headquarters. Tonight. We make our move at 22:00."
- - -
“For every piece of fancy tech on that belt, I have one better,” Riddler bragged, drawing a golden sphere from his pocket. He ran his finger down the ball. It unfolded as if it were an apple being peeled. The strips of gold intertwined to form the hook of a question mark, suspended a few inches away from the core of the sphere.
Batman flicked a few Batarangs at Riddler. The hook spun with a mind of its own, deflecting the Batarangs with ease.
Things are heating up on Batman: Eternal. Next episode we finally get a confrontation with the man himself. I figured since we're reaching the last part of the season, I can do a "next time on".
Now go catch up with the other corners of the Eternal Universe.
Green Arrow: Eternal by @Eeveechu151
Superman: Eternal by @Generation Sect
Now go catch up with the other corners of the Eternal Universe.
Green Arrow: Eternal by @Eeveechu151
Superman: Eternal by @Generation Sect
