“Listen up,” Bruce said, calling Slade Wilson, Dick Grayson, and Damian Wayne together in the grand living room, “Tim is holed up at ARGUS. Some issue with temporal shifting within the Phantom Zone.”
The boys looked at him, slack-jawed.
“I don’t pretend to understand it,” Bruce said, “But Waller said it. So it’s probably not true. My best guess is she’s keeping Tim at ARGUS to study the effects of the Phantom Zone. Hopefully Tam as well, if the mission was successful.”
“We’re down a man,” Dick noted.
“But you also have the man who beat the Batman,” Slade gloated, jabbing his thumb into his chest.
“Let’s not revisit that,” Bruce said, jaw clenched, as he relived Oswald’s death.
Dick cast a nasty glance towards Slade.
“Sorry. Just thought that’d increase confidence in this team,” Slade said.
“This is not a team,” Bruce said.
“This sure 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. A large area carved out underground, near the subway system. Slade, you will take on the big one-”
“Bane,” Slade smiled, “Will do.”
“Dick, you’re on Catwoman.”
“I get to hit a girl, yippee,” Dick said, sourly.
“She took out Tim before he knew what hit him, she’s not to be overlooked,” Bruce said.
“Leaves Mr. Frost for me,” Damian said.
“Mr. Freeze, yes,” Bruce nodded, “And only Mr. Freeze. As soon as he is defeated, I want you out of there. You’re not equipped to handle the rest of them. Mr. Freeze has held back in our past encounters. I figure you can take him. I’m having Lucius craft a temporary suit for you.”
Damian beamed, finally having a job.
“What will you do as soon as you defeat him?” Bruce asked.
“Leave,” Damian said.
“Perfect. We make our move at 22:00.”
“Two hours,” Dick made sure everyone knew.
Bruce’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He excused himself into the entryway. Glancing at the caller ID, he smiled. Selina Kyle. He hadn’t talked to her in forever. He quickly accepted the call.
“Hey Wayne,” she purred.
“Ms. Kyle,” Bruce said.
“I’ve missed you,” Selina puted in a smooth tone.
“I’ve been busy,” Bruce explained.
“Too busy for a night with a woman like me?” Selina asked.
“I’m sorry, Selina, I really am,” Bruce sighed, “When can I see you again?”
“Tonight.”
“Pardon?”
“I need you,” Selina said, “I need you now.”
Now, Bruce was certainly intrigued about Selina “needing” him, but he had his mission.
“I have something tonight as well,” Bruce said, “Selina, you can’t just spring this on someone.”
“You’re missing out, big shot,” Selina said, dryly.
“Tomorrow,” Bruce promised, “8 o’clock dinner. My place.”
“Wonderful,” Selina said, still not entirely thrilled.
“Maybe a little action for dessert?” Bruce hoped.
“We’ll see.”
Selina hung up without another word.
“Dammit,” Bruce muttered.
“Who was that?” Slade asked, approaching from behind.
“A woman I’ve been seeing,” Bruce said, “And I could’ve made it to home plate with her tonight.”
“Mission is more important,” Slade argued.
“I never said it wasn’t,” Bruce nodded, “All I want tonight is Riddler off the streets.”
“So let’s catch this rat bastard.”
Bruce looked Slade in the eye, “Let’s.”
- - -
1 HOUR AND 57 MINUTES LATER…
“Nightwing?”
“In position.”
“Damian?”
“Position.”
“Slade.”
“Ready to roll.”
“Good,” Batman said, perched atop a building, overlooking an empty street. The ground was wicked with moisture, and the air was thick with vapor. In the middle of the street below was a manhole.
“Batman, it is 22:00,” Nightwing said over the comms.
“Commence with the plan,” Batman ordered. He leapt off the building, aimed his grapple gun at the manhole, and fired. It found its mark in the center of the manhole and Batman yanked back, pulling it out of place. He then slowed his fall to the hole with his cape and slipped right through, letting his grapple gun pull the cover back into position. He scanned his new surroundings. A storm drain tunnel, marked up with all kinds of graffiti.
“Everyone make it?” Batman asked. He was met with three yeses. “Move to Phase 2.”
Batman crept through the tunnel, constantly running detective vision. For a while, all he saw behind the tunnel wall was sediment. Finally, he reached a spot where behind the tunnel was a plate of steel. He took a can of corrosive gel from his utility belt, gave it a good shake, and sprayed it onto the wall. His usual explosive gel was too loud for this specific mission, but this would do the job. The gel ate through the concrete. Upon reaching the steel, it slowed, but still made its way through. Batman gripped the edges of the small hole and pulled with all his might, stretching it out until it was wide enough to slip through.
The room was filled with all sorts of crates. Weapons, no doubt. A quick scan indicated they were indeed firearms.
“I’m in the compound,” Batman whispered.
“Damian and I are in as well,” Nightwing responded.
“Same here,” Slade said.
Batman peered as far as he could with his detective vision. He finally managed to spot a heat signature.
“Marking a hostile,” Batman said, tapping the temple of his cowl.
The heat signature suddenly appeared in Nightwing’s lenses. Damian and Slade were equipped with goggles that also received this information.
“Looks like Bane,” Slade noted, “That’s my target.”
“Do not move on hostile,” Batman said, “We wait until are hostiles are identified.”
“Right,” Nightwing seconded.
Batman glanced up at the ceiling. No rafters. Riddler knew who he was up against.
“Nothing to grapple to above,” Batman stated, “Will have to move stealthily along the ground.”
A minute later, Nightwing picked up another enemy on his scanner, and promptly marked it for the others.
“A dull heat signature,” Slade remarked.
“Mine,” Damian hissed.
“Calm, child,” Batman restated, “Do not engage.”
Batman slithered along the wall as if he himself was a shadow. He reached the doorway and took a peek through the wall with his detective vision.
“Cameras in the hall. Potential motion sensors.”
He reached down to his belt and tapped a button, emitting a highly concentrated EMP blast with a radius of roughly twenty feet. The cameras were down.
“What if I don’t have fancy camera shut-down tech?” Slade inquired.
“Don’t be seen,” Batman said. He moved into the hall quickly, slipping past the cameras before they came back online. At the end of the hall was another storage room. This one was much smaller. And it contained no run-of-the-mill weapons. Instead, there was otherworldly tech. Strange belts, helmets, blasters. All of it.
“Slade, what is this?” Batman said, projecting what he was seeing onto Slade’s goggles.
“Weapons from other planets,” Slade responded without hesitation.
Batman did a double take.
“Nygma’s been gathering them, preparing for the worst. These are unlike anything you’ve ever seen. If it comes down to it, he can use these to defeat you,” Slade explained.
“They can’t be-”
“Slade isn’t lying,” Nightwing cut in, “When I was away, one of my missions involved alien tech. Just never thought there’d be a whole lot of it. Especially not in one place.”
“I can disable the weapons,” Batman said immediately.
“No. You can’t. You have earthly methods of tampering,” Slade said, “These require something more powerful. At least I figure that’s true.”
“Who said anything about tampering?” Batman grunted, snatching a golden belt, “I can tear them apart.”
“We have a mission, Batman,” Nightwing reminded him, “A mission targeting Riddler and his crew. Not a mission to destroy munitions.”
He wasn’t wrong. Batman set the belt back down, and exited the room into another hallway. In the next room was another heat signature.
“That’d be the main room. Riddler’s lair,” Slade said, “So that’s probably Riddler.”
“Which leaves Catwoman,” Nightwing followed up, “Where the hell is my target?”
“Down below, I’d wager,” Slade said, “Batman, if you can get into the main room without being spotted, there’s an elevator in the corner that leads to the barracks. You’ll find Catwoman there.”
Batman crept into the main room without making a sound. He saw a man facing a large monitor. He’d been in this room when he was captured. This was the Riddler. Completely unassuming. He could end his crime spree here. But the mission came first.
In the main room, there were still no rafters. Instead, there were electrical wires that sometimes drooped off of the ceiling. Batman whipped around the doorway, crouched in the nearest corner, and shimmied up the walls. When he reached the ceiling, he leapt for the wires. He gripped them with all his might, and swung himself to the other corner which contained a steel shaft. The elevator. He glanced down the shaft, clearing up his detective vision. The fourth and final heat signature was revealed. All hostiles were marked.
“Attack.”
Batman fired his grappling gun at the back of Riddler’s chair. It tore through the fabric, nearly skewering Riddler himself. He then yanked himself forward and slammed his heel into the chair, knocking it over.
“A brilliant way to begin your operation,” Riddler grunted, pushing the chair off of him.
Batman kicked Riddler in the ribs while he was down.
“Not even letting me get back up?” Riddler groaned. He rolled over on his back and sighed.
Nightwing bolted out of a side room and rushed into the elevator. Damian followed from the room, wearing a dark armored suit with black headgear. He streaked past Bruce and headed towards Mr. Freeze.
Batman nudged Riddler back on to his chest and yanked his arms behind his back. He pulled out a pair of powerful handcuffs from his utility belt, opened them, and then clamped them around Riddler’s wrists.
“Oh damn you, Batman!” Riddler suddenly burst out, “You stopped my wonderful plan! Whatever shall I do now?”
Batman took a step back from Riddler.
“Come now, Bruce,” Riddler smiled crookedly, “You think I didn’t plan for this?”
The cuffs around his wrists came undone and slid off of his back. He stood up and dusted off his tailored emerald suit, and ran his fingers through his rust-colored hair.
“You think I didn’t plan for anything and everything you’d throw at me?”
Batman brushed off these comments and readied his fists again.
“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.
“Engaging Catwoman,” Nightwing reported in.
“Weak,” Damian sneered, “Mr. Freeze is defeated.”
“Call me out like that, then,” Nightwing grunted. Batman could hear punches, kicks, and scratches over the comms.
“Focus,” Riddler demanded, pointing back and forth between himself and Batman, “We were in the middle of something.”
“No. We were just finishing up,” Batman growled. He fired his grapple gun again, this time aiming for the question mark. The mark dodged to the side, then swung down, slicing the cord to the grapple hook.
“Try harder,” Riddler begged.
“Bane is down,” Slade announced.
“When your target is down, stay with them,” Batman said.
“Fath- Batman, I can help,” Damian insisted.
“I don’t need it,” Batman assured. He raced at Riddler. The mark began whirring intensely.
In mere seconds, Batman did calculated the angular velocity of the mark. It measured out to roughly one yard. 2 pi times 36 inches. 226.08. Then he took into account how long it took to go around a complete circle. 2.749 seconds.
Batman squeezed his eyes shut and slid through the spinning mark, seizing his small window. He emerged on the other side untouched. Popping up, he socked Riddler in the jaw.
Riddler fell on his rump, rubbing his jawline.
“Nightwing, do you see a girl with white hair down there?” Slade asked.
“Busy,” Nightwing squealed.
“Permission to abandon target and search for my daughter?” Slade requested.
“Denied,” Batman said.
“Team falling apart?” Riddler wondered.
“Not even close.”
Batman picked up the sphere off the ground. It had folded back up, no longer posing a threat.
“More alien weaponry?” Batman inquired.
“You knew,” Riddler nodded, “Yes. Yes it is. Slade Wilson, I suppose. And he’s here. The one you denied. I must warn you, he’s going to do it anyways.”
Sure enough, Slade came out from a back room. He wasn’t dressed in his Deathstroke suit, but instead wore simple clothing. Not even body armor.
“Bold move, Slade,” Riddler called out. Slade stopped for a moment to turn to Riddler and flip him off. He then continued to the elevator.
“Slade! You need to stay with Bane!” Batman roared.
“I need to find my daughter,” Slade said, descending the shaft.
“Wholesome,” Riddler commented.
“What do you have on the others?” Batman demanded, turning his attention back to Riddler.
“Pardon?” Riddler raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t play dumb.”
“You’re right,” Riddler smiled, “Dumb doesn’t suit me.”
Batman pressed his foot on Riddler’s chest.
“Wayne, take a step back here,” Riddler pleaded, “Why would I tell you my plan?”
“Because you don’t want me to level your base,” Batman threatened.
Riddler paused a moment, considering Batman’s words.
“No,” he finally said.
Batman retrieved a detonator from his belt.
“Get on with it,” Riddler dared.
“Team, clear out,” Batman instructed, “This place is about to blow.”
“When are you going to give up the act?” Riddler chided, trying to disguise his growing despair.
“Catwoman down. Evacuating,” Nightwing responded.
“Not leaving til I get my daughter.”
“Meeting with Nightwing,” Damian said.
Damian ran over to the elevator and waited for Nightwing to arrive.
“This is no act,” Batman said to Riddler.
Nightwing and Damian immediately ran to the side room they had originally come out of.
“One chance here, Riddler,” Batman said, “Tell me what you have on Bane, Mr. Freeze, and Catwoman. Do it and I leave your base. All your hardwork.”
“But I still go to jail,” Riddler said.
“Of course,” Batman nodded.
“Then what’s the point?”
“Three.”
“What is the point?” Riddler began to chuckle.
“Two.”
“I suppose it’s time-”
“One.”
“-that you give up the act.”
Batman sighed in defeat and put the detonator back on his belt.
“Your explosive gel has a distinct smell,” Riddler explained, “Nuanced, but definitely there. I can’t sense it. Plus, this base is directly under a community center. You wouldn’t allow that refuge to cave in.”
Batman was almost impressed.
“And get this!” Riddler cackled, “You had half your team clear out! All for a bluff!”
Bane stormed into the room, clearly in a bad mood.
“Have at the Batman,” Riddler said.
Batman hurled the golden sphere at Bane. Directly in his eye. Bane recoiled.
“Bane, this is an esteemed guest,” Riddler said, “Use all of your power.”
“Sir, it’s all downstairs,” Bane reminded him.
“That’s no problem,” Catwoman purred, slinking out of the elevator with a black case. She tossed it to Bane, who opened it, revealing miniature syringes with a formula that Batman immediately recognized as Venom. Bane injected himself with three of them, and screeched in pain.
Catwoman rushed Batman. Her sleek suit slid past Batman, only to spin into the air and kick him three consecutive times. She swung her fingers across his face. Energy pores on her fingertips activated, sending purple blasts into Batman’s skin. He stumbled back, clutching his cheek.
On the other side of the Room, Bane began to grow. First, the areas around the injections welled up. A sickly purple, nearly a polar opposite to Catwoman’s bright purple “claws”. Almost as if he’d been stung by wasps. Then it began to spread. The purple mellowed out as his arms bulged.
Batman kicked at Catwoman’s stomach, only for her to grip his shin and spin herself over it. She brought her leg up to collide with Batman’s chin.
“Nightwing, I need you back in here,” Batman finally managed to say.
“And Damian?” Nightwing asked.
“Stays away from this.”
Bane’s transformation was almost complete. His entire body was shredded with muscle, and he stood a full foot taller. Now, the Venom prodded at his brain, hoping to turn him to a slobbering idiot. But this- this was refined. No longer the primal drug. This instead enhanced his mind, giving him clarity.
Bane stomped over to Batman and yanked him off of the ground. He held him over his head victoriously. For a few moments, there was a strange tranquility in the room. Batman didn’t struggle. He couldn’t. He was shocked. Bane was strictly focused on holding Batman up. Catwoman was gazing up in awe. And Riddler was beaming. He had won.
“I beat you, Batman,” Riddler said giddily. His breath was escaping him rapidly. This was it. The final moments of the Batman.
Bane dropped Batman, and raised his knee.
This was truly it.
Nightwing saw Bane drop Batman. He flung an Escrima stick as hard as he could, and it found its mark in Bane’s groin.
Bane released the most inhuman sound and collapsed, letting Batman fall to the floor unharmed.
“Cheap shot,” Catwoman hissed, pouncing at Nightwing.
“Round Two?” Nightwing grinned.
Then, Batman saw Damian enter.
“No!” Batman barked, “Back outside.”
“Everyone is so stubborn,” Riddler said.
Damian ran right by the fighting and over to the room with Mr. Freeze. He sat down by the machine of a man. He was just waking up. When he saw Damian, he began sobbing.
“Please! No! I don’t want to do this anymore!”
Damian stared at the man, quizzically. He felt… compassion. For a villain. Perhaps his father was rubbing off on him. He wouldn’t let it happen again. But for today, he felt as if it was necessary.
Damian placed a hand on the fishbowl of a helmet that Mr. Freeze had.
“I don’t want this! Any of this!” Mr. Freeze continued to cry.
“Why do you do it?” Damian asked.
“I- I have to!” Mr. Freeze let out, voice breaking, “Or my wife-”
“He has your wife,” Damian said, putting pieces together.
“He’s keeping her alive,” Mr. Freeze said, “He’s doing what I couldn’t. But if I mess this up…”
“Your wife. Slade’s daughter. He have Bane’s sister? Catwoman’s brother?”
In that moment, Mr. Freeze realized what Damian was after. And he realized he wanted to help. This was his way to redeem himself. Even if it meant letting go of his wife. He couldn’t go on being the villain.
“He- he has Bane’s home,” Mr. Freeze whispered, “A small island nation. Santa Prisca. Used to be an island strictly for a prison. The prisoners revolted, forming their own country. Bane is their leader. Riddler abducted him and placed his own goons on the island to keep its citizens under his thumb.”
“And Catwoman?”
“A clean slate. Her record cleared. She’s made bad decisions. The authorities are on her heels. With this, she can get right back to going after valuables.”
Damian stood up to leave. He turned around with a soft expression. “Thank you.”
Mr. Freeze smiled.
Back in the main room, Batman and Nightwing were struggling to contest with Bane, Catwoman, and Riddler, who had recovered his question mark weapon.
“Batman, we leave now!” Damian hollered, running into the fray.
Slade came up from the elevator, holding a girl who looked to be in her younger twenties by the shoulders. Her silky white hair fell messily over her face.
“I second the kid!” Slade yelled, “We got my daughter, now let’s get out before Riddler gets us!”
“Fleeing from me?” Riddler batted his eyes, “I’m flattered.”
Deathstroke whispered directions in his daughter’s ear. She sprinted away. Deathstroke engaged in the fight.
Batman took on Catwoman while Nightwing dealt with Bane by using ranged attacks. Slade and Damian teamed up on Riddler.
Slade shoved Riddler over to the child, who returned him with a spinning kick. Slade gripped Riddler’s head and bashed it into his knee. Damian leapt on Riddler’s back and put him in a chokehold.
“Batman, I think I like this one!” Slade said, pointing to Damian.
“Justice!” Batman reminded Damian, “Not vengeance!”
But all of Damian’s compassion and restraint had been used up with Mr. Freeze. He was going all out.
Batman abandoned his fight with Catwoman and ran to Damian. He pried his son off of the Riddler.
“I had him!” Damian complained.
“You were going to kill him,” Batman corrected.
“What he deserved!” Damian argued.
“How long until you realize: We. Don’t. Kill.”
Catwoman sprang into the air and kneed Batman in the back of the head.
“Ever think about starting?” Catwoman purred.
Slade punched Catwoman in the face, “I got no problem with it.”
“Slade,” Batman said, warningly.
Sparks flew from Catwoman’s straight black face. She removed her mask, revealing-
“Selina,” Batman said, heartbroken.
“Please,” Selina said, voice dripping with judgement, “We were no lover affair for the ages. You were a rich boy who wanted in my pants. And I played you. Played you hard.”
“But-”
“Snuck into your Batcave. Learned all about your gadgets. How to combat them. Render them ineffective. And then there was tonight.”
“You knew this was coming,” Batman said to Riddler.
“I’ll always be ahead of you, Batman,” Riddler said, “I think it’s time to end this.”
With that, part of the ceiling opened up, directly above Batman. A clear tube dropped down around him.
Damian pounded on the glass to no avail.
“Imagine that,” Riddler cackled, “I even knew you’d be standing right there for the end of it all.”
“So sorry Bruce,” Selina said.
“Batman!” Nightwing yelled, running over.
“Nightwing! Take them and get out. We’ve lost tonight. But we never lose to the war.”
Nightwing slung Damian over his shoulder and ran out the way they came in.
Slade stared down Riddler.
“You’re free to go,” Riddler said, “I only ever wanted to take down the Batman. I have no need of you. Or Dick Grayson. Damian Wayne.”
“Your hubris will be the end of you, Nashton.”
“Nygma,” Riddler said bitterly as Slade exited the lair.
Bane and Catwoman looked down at the ground, not sure what to do next.
“You got me,” Batman said, “Now what?”
Riddler whipped around, a sudden sick glee in his eyes, “Riddle me this-”
NEXT TIME ON BATMAN:ETERNAL
“Slade’s out of the picture now that he has his daughter,” Dick sighed, “No telling when Tim will return. We’re on our own.”
“Nightwing and Robin,” Damian stated.
“I think it’s your dad who officially dubs you Robin,” Dick pursed his lips, “How about Sparrow?”
- - -
“I turn around once, what is out will not get in. I turn around again, what is in will not get out. What am I? Come now, this is simple."
“A bee in the hand, what in the eye?”
“You leave home. Running. You make a right, then turn left twice. Then, you make one last left. And you see two men in masks. Who are they?”
- - -
"What does Riddler have on you?” Batman asked.
“He has nothing on us!” Bane thundered.
“Your home."
The boys looked at him, slack-jawed.
“I don’t pretend to understand it,” Bruce said, “But Waller said it. So it’s probably not true. My best guess is she’s keeping Tim at ARGUS to study the effects of the Phantom Zone. Hopefully Tam as well, if the mission was successful.”
“We’re down a man,” Dick noted.
“But you also have the man who beat the Batman,” Slade gloated, jabbing his thumb into his chest.
“Let’s not revisit that,” Bruce said, jaw clenched, as he relived Oswald’s death.
Dick cast a nasty glance towards Slade.
“Sorry. Just thought that’d increase confidence in this team,” Slade said.
“This is not a team,” Bruce said.
“This sure 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. A large area carved out underground, near the subway system. Slade, you will take on the big one-”
“Bane,” Slade smiled, “Will do.”
“Dick, you’re on Catwoman.”
“I get to hit a girl, yippee,” Dick said, sourly.
“She took out Tim before he knew what hit him, she’s not to be overlooked,” Bruce said.
“Leaves Mr. Frost for me,” Damian said.
“Mr. Freeze, yes,” Bruce nodded, “And only Mr. Freeze. As soon as he is defeated, I want you out of there. You’re not equipped to handle the rest of them. Mr. Freeze has held back in our past encounters. I figure you can take him. I’m having Lucius craft a temporary suit for you.”
Damian beamed, finally having a job.
“What will you do as soon as you defeat him?” Bruce asked.
“Leave,” Damian said.
“Perfect. We make our move at 22:00.”
“Two hours,” Dick made sure everyone knew.
Bruce’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He excused himself into the entryway. Glancing at the caller ID, he smiled. Selina Kyle. He hadn’t talked to her in forever. He quickly accepted the call.
“Hey Wayne,” she purred.
“Ms. Kyle,” Bruce said.
“I’ve missed you,” Selina puted in a smooth tone.
“I’ve been busy,” Bruce explained.
“Too busy for a night with a woman like me?” Selina asked.
“I’m sorry, Selina, I really am,” Bruce sighed, “When can I see you again?”
“Tonight.”
“Pardon?”
“I need you,” Selina said, “I need you now.”
Now, Bruce was certainly intrigued about Selina “needing” him, but he had his mission.
“I have something tonight as well,” Bruce said, “Selina, you can’t just spring this on someone.”
“You’re missing out, big shot,” Selina said, dryly.
“Tomorrow,” Bruce promised, “8 o’clock dinner. My place.”
“Wonderful,” Selina said, still not entirely thrilled.
“Maybe a little action for dessert?” Bruce hoped.
“We’ll see.”
Selina hung up without another word.
“Dammit,” Bruce muttered.
“Who was that?” Slade asked, approaching from behind.
“A woman I’ve been seeing,” Bruce said, “And I could’ve made it to home plate with her tonight.”
“Mission is more important,” Slade argued.
“I never said it wasn’t,” Bruce nodded, “All I want tonight is Riddler off the streets.”
“So let’s catch this rat bastard.”
Bruce looked Slade in the eye, “Let’s.”
- - -
1 HOUR AND 57 MINUTES LATER…
“Nightwing?”
“In position.”
“Damian?”
“Position.”
“Slade.”
“Ready to roll.”
“Good,” Batman said, perched atop a building, overlooking an empty street. The ground was wicked with moisture, and the air was thick with vapor. In the middle of the street below was a manhole.
“Batman, it is 22:00,” Nightwing said over the comms.
“Commence with the plan,” Batman ordered. He leapt off the building, aimed his grapple gun at the manhole, and fired. It found its mark in the center of the manhole and Batman yanked back, pulling it out of place. He then slowed his fall to the hole with his cape and slipped right through, letting his grapple gun pull the cover back into position. He scanned his new surroundings. A storm drain tunnel, marked up with all kinds of graffiti.
“Everyone make it?” Batman asked. He was met with three yeses. “Move to Phase 2.”
Batman crept through the tunnel, constantly running detective vision. For a while, all he saw behind the tunnel wall was sediment. Finally, he reached a spot where behind the tunnel was a plate of steel. He took a can of corrosive gel from his utility belt, gave it a good shake, and sprayed it onto the wall. His usual explosive gel was too loud for this specific mission, but this would do the job. The gel ate through the concrete. Upon reaching the steel, it slowed, but still made its way through. Batman gripped the edges of the small hole and pulled with all his might, stretching it out until it was wide enough to slip through.
The room was filled with all sorts of crates. Weapons, no doubt. A quick scan indicated they were indeed firearms.
“I’m in the compound,” Batman whispered.
“Damian and I are in as well,” Nightwing responded.
“Same here,” Slade said.
Batman peered as far as he could with his detective vision. He finally managed to spot a heat signature.
“Marking a hostile,” Batman said, tapping the temple of his cowl.
The heat signature suddenly appeared in Nightwing’s lenses. Damian and Slade were equipped with goggles that also received this information.
“Looks like Bane,” Slade noted, “That’s my target.”
“Do not move on hostile,” Batman said, “We wait until are hostiles are identified.”
“Right,” Nightwing seconded.
Batman glanced up at the ceiling. No rafters. Riddler knew who he was up against.
“Nothing to grapple to above,” Batman stated, “Will have to move stealthily along the ground.”
A minute later, Nightwing picked up another enemy on his scanner, and promptly marked it for the others.
“A dull heat signature,” Slade remarked.
“Mine,” Damian hissed.
“Calm, child,” Batman restated, “Do not engage.”
Batman slithered along the wall as if he himself was a shadow. He reached the doorway and took a peek through the wall with his detective vision.
“Cameras in the hall. Potential motion sensors.”
He reached down to his belt and tapped a button, emitting a highly concentrated EMP blast with a radius of roughly twenty feet. The cameras were down.
“What if I don’t have fancy camera shut-down tech?” Slade inquired.
“Don’t be seen,” Batman said. He moved into the hall quickly, slipping past the cameras before they came back online. At the end of the hall was another storage room. This one was much smaller. And it contained no run-of-the-mill weapons. Instead, there was otherworldly tech. Strange belts, helmets, blasters. All of it.
“Slade, what is this?” Batman said, projecting what he was seeing onto Slade’s goggles.
“Weapons from other planets,” Slade responded without hesitation.
Batman did a double take.
“Nygma’s been gathering them, preparing for the worst. These are unlike anything you’ve ever seen. If it comes down to it, he can use these to defeat you,” Slade explained.
“They can’t be-”
“Slade isn’t lying,” Nightwing cut in, “When I was away, one of my missions involved alien tech. Just never thought there’d be a whole lot of it. Especially not in one place.”
“I can disable the weapons,” Batman said immediately.
“No. You can’t. You have earthly methods of tampering,” Slade said, “These require something more powerful. At least I figure that’s true.”
“Who said anything about tampering?” Batman grunted, snatching a golden belt, “I can tear them apart.”
“We have a mission, Batman,” Nightwing reminded him, “A mission targeting Riddler and his crew. Not a mission to destroy munitions.”
He wasn’t wrong. Batman set the belt back down, and exited the room into another hallway. In the next room was another heat signature.
“That’d be the main room. Riddler’s lair,” Slade said, “So that’s probably Riddler.”
“Which leaves Catwoman,” Nightwing followed up, “Where the hell is my target?”
“Down below, I’d wager,” Slade said, “Batman, if you can get into the main room without being spotted, there’s an elevator in the corner that leads to the barracks. You’ll find Catwoman there.”
Batman crept into the main room without making a sound. He saw a man facing a large monitor. He’d been in this room when he was captured. This was the Riddler. Completely unassuming. He could end his crime spree here. But the mission came first.
In the main room, there were still no rafters. Instead, there were electrical wires that sometimes drooped off of the ceiling. Batman whipped around the doorway, crouched in the nearest corner, and shimmied up the walls. When he reached the ceiling, he leapt for the wires. He gripped them with all his might, and swung himself to the other corner which contained a steel shaft. The elevator. He glanced down the shaft, clearing up his detective vision. The fourth and final heat signature was revealed. All hostiles were marked.
“Attack.”
Batman fired his grappling gun at the back of Riddler’s chair. It tore through the fabric, nearly skewering Riddler himself. He then yanked himself forward and slammed his heel into the chair, knocking it over.
“A brilliant way to begin your operation,” Riddler grunted, pushing the chair off of him.
Batman kicked Riddler in the ribs while he was down.
“Not even letting me get back up?” Riddler groaned. He rolled over on his back and sighed.
Nightwing bolted out of a side room and rushed into the elevator. Damian followed from the room, wearing a dark armored suit with black headgear. He streaked past Bruce and headed towards Mr. Freeze.
Batman nudged Riddler back on to his chest and yanked his arms behind his back. He pulled out a pair of powerful handcuffs from his utility belt, opened them, and then clamped them around Riddler’s wrists.
“Oh damn you, Batman!” Riddler suddenly burst out, “You stopped my wonderful plan! Whatever shall I do now?”
Batman took a step back from Riddler.
“Come now, Bruce,” Riddler smiled crookedly, “You think I didn’t plan for this?”
The cuffs around his wrists came undone and slid off of his back. He stood up and dusted off his tailored emerald suit, and ran his fingers through his rust-colored hair.
“You think I didn’t plan for anything and everything you’d throw at me?”
Batman brushed off these comments and readied his fists again.
“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.
“Engaging Catwoman,” Nightwing reported in.
“Weak,” Damian sneered, “Mr. Freeze is defeated.”
“Call me out like that, then,” Nightwing grunted. Batman could hear punches, kicks, and scratches over the comms.
“Focus,” Riddler demanded, pointing back and forth between himself and Batman, “We were in the middle of something.”
“No. We were just finishing up,” Batman growled. He fired his grapple gun again, this time aiming for the question mark. The mark dodged to the side, then swung down, slicing the cord to the grapple hook.
“Try harder,” Riddler begged.
“Bane is down,” Slade announced.
“When your target is down, stay with them,” Batman said.
“Fath- Batman, I can help,” Damian insisted.
“I don’t need it,” Batman assured. He raced at Riddler. The mark began whirring intensely.
In mere seconds, Batman did calculated the angular velocity of the mark. It measured out to roughly one yard. 2 pi times 36 inches. 226.08. Then he took into account how long it took to go around a complete circle. 2.749 seconds.
Batman squeezed his eyes shut and slid through the spinning mark, seizing his small window. He emerged on the other side untouched. Popping up, he socked Riddler in the jaw.
Riddler fell on his rump, rubbing his jawline.
“Nightwing, do you see a girl with white hair down there?” Slade asked.
“Busy,” Nightwing squealed.
“Permission to abandon target and search for my daughter?” Slade requested.
“Denied,” Batman said.
“Team falling apart?” Riddler wondered.
“Not even close.”
Batman picked up the sphere off the ground. It had folded back up, no longer posing a threat.
“More alien weaponry?” Batman inquired.
“You knew,” Riddler nodded, “Yes. Yes it is. Slade Wilson, I suppose. And he’s here. The one you denied. I must warn you, he’s going to do it anyways.”
Sure enough, Slade came out from a back room. He wasn’t dressed in his Deathstroke suit, but instead wore simple clothing. Not even body armor.
“Bold move, Slade,” Riddler called out. Slade stopped for a moment to turn to Riddler and flip him off. He then continued to the elevator.
“Slade! You need to stay with Bane!” Batman roared.
“I need to find my daughter,” Slade said, descending the shaft.
“Wholesome,” Riddler commented.
“What do you have on the others?” Batman demanded, turning his attention back to Riddler.
“Pardon?” Riddler raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t play dumb.”
“You’re right,” Riddler smiled, “Dumb doesn’t suit me.”
Batman pressed his foot on Riddler’s chest.
“Wayne, take a step back here,” Riddler pleaded, “Why would I tell you my plan?”
“Because you don’t want me to level your base,” Batman threatened.
Riddler paused a moment, considering Batman’s words.
“No,” he finally said.
Batman retrieved a detonator from his belt.
“Get on with it,” Riddler dared.
“Team, clear out,” Batman instructed, “This place is about to blow.”
“When are you going to give up the act?” Riddler chided, trying to disguise his growing despair.
“Catwoman down. Evacuating,” Nightwing responded.
“Not leaving til I get my daughter.”
“Meeting with Nightwing,” Damian said.
Damian ran over to the elevator and waited for Nightwing to arrive.
“This is no act,” Batman said to Riddler.
Nightwing and Damian immediately ran to the side room they had originally come out of.
“One chance here, Riddler,” Batman said, “Tell me what you have on Bane, Mr. Freeze, and Catwoman. Do it and I leave your base. All your hardwork.”
“But I still go to jail,” Riddler said.
“Of course,” Batman nodded.
“Then what’s the point?”
“Three.”
“What is the point?” Riddler began to chuckle.
“Two.”
“I suppose it’s time-”
“One.”
“-that you give up the act.”
Batman sighed in defeat and put the detonator back on his belt.
“Your explosive gel has a distinct smell,” Riddler explained, “Nuanced, but definitely there. I can’t sense it. Plus, this base is directly under a community center. You wouldn’t allow that refuge to cave in.”
Batman was almost impressed.
“And get this!” Riddler cackled, “You had half your team clear out! All for a bluff!”
Bane stormed into the room, clearly in a bad mood.
“Have at the Batman,” Riddler said.
Batman hurled the golden sphere at Bane. Directly in his eye. Bane recoiled.
“Bane, this is an esteemed guest,” Riddler said, “Use all of your power.”
“Sir, it’s all downstairs,” Bane reminded him.
“That’s no problem,” Catwoman purred, slinking out of the elevator with a black case. She tossed it to Bane, who opened it, revealing miniature syringes with a formula that Batman immediately recognized as Venom. Bane injected himself with three of them, and screeched in pain.
Catwoman rushed Batman. Her sleek suit slid past Batman, only to spin into the air and kick him three consecutive times. She swung her fingers across his face. Energy pores on her fingertips activated, sending purple blasts into Batman’s skin. He stumbled back, clutching his cheek.
On the other side of the Room, Bane began to grow. First, the areas around the injections welled up. A sickly purple, nearly a polar opposite to Catwoman’s bright purple “claws”. Almost as if he’d been stung by wasps. Then it began to spread. The purple mellowed out as his arms bulged.
Batman kicked at Catwoman’s stomach, only for her to grip his shin and spin herself over it. She brought her leg up to collide with Batman’s chin.
“Nightwing, I need you back in here,” Batman finally managed to say.
“And Damian?” Nightwing asked.
“Stays away from this.”
Bane’s transformation was almost complete. His entire body was shredded with muscle, and he stood a full foot taller. Now, the Venom prodded at his brain, hoping to turn him to a slobbering idiot. But this- this was refined. No longer the primal drug. This instead enhanced his mind, giving him clarity.
Bane stomped over to Batman and yanked him off of the ground. He held him over his head victoriously. For a few moments, there was a strange tranquility in the room. Batman didn’t struggle. He couldn’t. He was shocked. Bane was strictly focused on holding Batman up. Catwoman was gazing up in awe. And Riddler was beaming. He had won.
“I beat you, Batman,” Riddler said giddily. His breath was escaping him rapidly. This was it. The final moments of the Batman.
Bane dropped Batman, and raised his knee.
This was truly it.
Nightwing saw Bane drop Batman. He flung an Escrima stick as hard as he could, and it found its mark in Bane’s groin.
Bane released the most inhuman sound and collapsed, letting Batman fall to the floor unharmed.
“Cheap shot,” Catwoman hissed, pouncing at Nightwing.
“Round Two?” Nightwing grinned.
Then, Batman saw Damian enter.
“No!” Batman barked, “Back outside.”
“Everyone is so stubborn,” Riddler said.
Damian ran right by the fighting and over to the room with Mr. Freeze. He sat down by the machine of a man. He was just waking up. When he saw Damian, he began sobbing.
“Please! No! I don’t want to do this anymore!”
Damian stared at the man, quizzically. He felt… compassion. For a villain. Perhaps his father was rubbing off on him. He wouldn’t let it happen again. But for today, he felt as if it was necessary.
Damian placed a hand on the fishbowl of a helmet that Mr. Freeze had.
“I don’t want this! Any of this!” Mr. Freeze continued to cry.
“Why do you do it?” Damian asked.
“I- I have to!” Mr. Freeze let out, voice breaking, “Or my wife-”
“He has your wife,” Damian said, putting pieces together.
“He’s keeping her alive,” Mr. Freeze said, “He’s doing what I couldn’t. But if I mess this up…”
“Your wife. Slade’s daughter. He have Bane’s sister? Catwoman’s brother?”
In that moment, Mr. Freeze realized what Damian was after. And he realized he wanted to help. This was his way to redeem himself. Even if it meant letting go of his wife. He couldn’t go on being the villain.
“He- he has Bane’s home,” Mr. Freeze whispered, “A small island nation. Santa Prisca. Used to be an island strictly for a prison. The prisoners revolted, forming their own country. Bane is their leader. Riddler abducted him and placed his own goons on the island to keep its citizens under his thumb.”
“And Catwoman?”
“A clean slate. Her record cleared. She’s made bad decisions. The authorities are on her heels. With this, she can get right back to going after valuables.”
Damian stood up to leave. He turned around with a soft expression. “Thank you.”
Mr. Freeze smiled.
Back in the main room, Batman and Nightwing were struggling to contest with Bane, Catwoman, and Riddler, who had recovered his question mark weapon.
“Batman, we leave now!” Damian hollered, running into the fray.
Slade came up from the elevator, holding a girl who looked to be in her younger twenties by the shoulders. Her silky white hair fell messily over her face.
“I second the kid!” Slade yelled, “We got my daughter, now let’s get out before Riddler gets us!”
“Fleeing from me?” Riddler batted his eyes, “I’m flattered.”
Deathstroke whispered directions in his daughter’s ear. She sprinted away. Deathstroke engaged in the fight.
Batman took on Catwoman while Nightwing dealt with Bane by using ranged attacks. Slade and Damian teamed up on Riddler.
Slade shoved Riddler over to the child, who returned him with a spinning kick. Slade gripped Riddler’s head and bashed it into his knee. Damian leapt on Riddler’s back and put him in a chokehold.
“Batman, I think I like this one!” Slade said, pointing to Damian.
“Justice!” Batman reminded Damian, “Not vengeance!”
But all of Damian’s compassion and restraint had been used up with Mr. Freeze. He was going all out.
Batman abandoned his fight with Catwoman and ran to Damian. He pried his son off of the Riddler.
“I had him!” Damian complained.
“You were going to kill him,” Batman corrected.
“What he deserved!” Damian argued.
“How long until you realize: We. Don’t. Kill.”
Catwoman sprang into the air and kneed Batman in the back of the head.
“Ever think about starting?” Catwoman purred.
Slade punched Catwoman in the face, “I got no problem with it.”
“Slade,” Batman said, warningly.
Sparks flew from Catwoman’s straight black face. She removed her mask, revealing-
“Selina,” Batman said, heartbroken.
“Please,” Selina said, voice dripping with judgement, “We were no lover affair for the ages. You were a rich boy who wanted in my pants. And I played you. Played you hard.”
“But-”
“Snuck into your Batcave. Learned all about your gadgets. How to combat them. Render them ineffective. And then there was tonight.”
“You knew this was coming,” Batman said to Riddler.
“I’ll always be ahead of you, Batman,” Riddler said, “I think it’s time to end this.”
With that, part of the ceiling opened up, directly above Batman. A clear tube dropped down around him.
Damian pounded on the glass to no avail.
“Imagine that,” Riddler cackled, “I even knew you’d be standing right there for the end of it all.”
“So sorry Bruce,” Selina said.
“Batman!” Nightwing yelled, running over.
“Nightwing! Take them and get out. We’ve lost tonight. But we never lose to the war.”
Nightwing slung Damian over his shoulder and ran out the way they came in.
Slade stared down Riddler.
“You’re free to go,” Riddler said, “I only ever wanted to take down the Batman. I have no need of you. Or Dick Grayson. Damian Wayne.”
“Your hubris will be the end of you, Nashton.”
“Nygma,” Riddler said bitterly as Slade exited the lair.
Bane and Catwoman looked down at the ground, not sure what to do next.
“You got me,” Batman said, “Now what?”
Riddler whipped around, a sudden sick glee in his eyes, “Riddle me this-”
NEXT TIME ON BATMAN:ETERNAL
“Slade’s out of the picture now that he has his daughter,” Dick sighed, “No telling when Tim will return. We’re on our own.”
“Nightwing and Robin,” Damian stated.
“I think it’s your dad who officially dubs you Robin,” Dick pursed his lips, “How about Sparrow?”
- - -
“I turn around once, what is out will not get in. I turn around again, what is in will not get out. What am I? Come now, this is simple."
“A bee in the hand, what in the eye?”
“You leave home. Running. You make a right, then turn left twice. Then, you make one last left. And you see two men in masks. Who are they?”
- - -
"What does Riddler have on you?” Batman asked.
“He has nothing on us!” Bane thundered.
“Your home."
At long last. The clash. The Dark Triad against the Bat Family (sans Tim). Could the return of Tim Drake possibly turn the tides? In lieu of another installment next week (I have to drag this out to let my amigos catch up), I will release a piece of art.
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