“Who’s there?” the enforcer called out, gripping his strange looking gun by the handle.
A wing-ding zipped through the air and wrapped itself around the enforcer’s ankles. A spry figure sprung down from above and kicked the enforcer across the face. The enforcer was out cold.
“Nightwing and Robin,” Nightwing answered.
“Asshole,” Robin spat at the enforcer.
“Whoa there,” Nightwing said, putting a hand on Robin’s shoulder.
Nightwing reached down to pick up his steel wing-ding as Robin surveyed the area.
“How are we going to go about this?” Robin inquired.
“Take out the enforcers,” Nightwing responded.
“Every single enforcer?” Robin asked.
“How many can there be?” Nightwing shrugged.
“You are ignorant, Grayson,” Robin said.
“Cool,” Nightwing said, “Listen, Robin, this island is just around 50 square miles. It’ll take most of the day, but we can do this. And what better place to be right now? Look at that sunrise.”
The sunrise was indeed beautiful. But Robin wasn’t interested in the creamy oranges, reds, and yellows. He was interested in saving his father.
“We move quickly,” Robin said.
“Of course,” Nightwing nodded, “Take out goons, gather their weapons, get the news back to Bane that his home is safe.”
Robin picked up the enforcer’s weapon, and examined it. It was like nothing he had ever seen. A very bulky gun. There was no trigger, and no clear entry point for ammunition. He hefted the gun up and aimed it at a decrepit sign. Something in his mind told him exactly what to do. He squeezed the barrel of the gun.
A massive burst of sunrise colored energy flowed from the front of the gun, and deleted the sign from existence.
“Solar powered,” Robin observed.
“How did you-?” Nightwing started.
“I just knew,” Robin bragged.
“Well put it away. And careful not to set it off.”
“Yes. I will be careful…” Robin said, snickering.
“What are-?”
Robin aimed the gun at Nightwing.
“Whoa.”
Robin moved in on Nightwing.
“Damian, wait. No. Put that down. You don’t want to do this.”
“For too long, you have denied my greatness,” Robin growled, “No more.”
They stayed in place, eyes locked intensely.
Then, Robin dropped the gun, and fell to the ground cackling.
“Damian?” Nightwing asked, voice wavering, “Damian you good?”
“I got you!” Robin cried.
“Jesus! Damian! That is NOT okay! NOT funny!” Nightwing yelled, frustrated.
All the things that Damian deemed “lame”, “unfunny”, or “corny” came rushing to Dick’s mind. Of course this would qualify as his sense of humor.
“You- You thought I was going to blast you with the sun!” Robin convulsed with laughter.
“Oh my God. Damian. I hate you.”
Robin finally calmed down, and got back to his feet.
“I thought you were all about the mission,” Nightwing said, seething.
“Quiet, Grayson. You are only- how you say- butthurt?” Robin quipped.
“You have a screwed up sense of humor,” Nightwing said, scooping the gun up off the ground, “Remind me to never work with you again.”
Nightwing stormed down the road, letting the gun dangle from his fist. Robin got right behind him.
They had a big day ahead of them.
- - -
Tim smiled at Tam through the glass. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been here. All he knew that Tam was adamant about only staying a week, not the five that they’d been asked to stay.
“Soon,” Tam mouthed as she sighed.
“Soon,” Tim nodded. He was a little bit worried about how Bruce, Dick, and Damian were faring against Riddler. Spoiler: not great.
His containment capsule was nothing fancy. Two decently sized gray rooms with one-way windows except for the one connecting him and Tam.
Tim wished with all his might that could he break through the glass. Reach through and touch Tam. He hadn’t felt her for years. Then, their reunion had been brief.
There was a loud buzz, followed by a quick hiss and release of steam. One of the walls slid open, and Dr. Michael Holt walked in in a full hazmat suit.
“A week already?” Tim asked.
“No,” Dr. Holt said, “Just news. And… not the good kind.”
Dr. Holt had to focus in. He has an assignment. He couldn’t let emotions get in the way. Like Waller taught him.
“Out with it,” Tim said, preparing for the worst.
“The Phantom Zone Energy is potentially fatal,” Dr. Holt recited, as if giving a classroom presentation, “Once any portion of the Phantom Zone breaches our world, it adopts deadly properties. Your friend soaked in it for years.”
“She’s going to-?”
“If she keeps herself hooked up to the device we equipped you with before heading in, she should keep the Energy at bay,” Dr. Holt hoped, “But it’s anyone’s guess. You are welcome to leave, but she needs to stay longer.”
“She stays, I stay,” Tim insisted.
- - -
“I am one of five. He who receives me will perish. He who sent me will become king. What am I?”
Bruce looked up, nothing even resembling an answer in his mind.
“I’ll get out.”
“Are you a religious man?” Riddler asked.
“I’ll get you.”
“I’m not looking to get introspective and controversial with this religion topic.”
“You can’t contain me.”
“It’s just- if you were, this answer would come easily.”
“A stone.”
“Perfect. So you are a man of religion.”
“And when I get you.”
“How do feel about God?”
“I will make you pay for your sins.”
“The way you speak… do you feel that you are God?”
“Not just your sins against me.”
“Judge?”
“But against everyone you’ve ever harmed.”
“Jury?”
“And you’ll wish you had never been born.”
“Executioner?”
With that, the tube surrounding Bruce shattered into microscopic bits. Riddler immediately produced a gun and placed it against his own skull.
“Let’s see it, my Lord,” Riddler dared him.
“You’re more insane than the Joker,” Bruce said, still reeling from the shock of his release.
“This isn’t insanity,” Riddler said, frowning, “Actually, I’m offended you would suggest that.”
“Then what is this?” Bruce said, getting to his feet.
“A calculated risk.”
“You miscalculated,” Bruce growled, wrapping his finger around the trigger that Riddler held out for him.
“You do this. You kill me. You kill yourself too.”
Bruce tightened his grip on the pistol.
“Batman. He is the hero that rises above. Doesn’t kill. Doesn’t use guns. So go ahead. Shoot me now. End me. Bruce Wayne will survive. But Batman?”
“You miscalculated,” Bruce repeated.
He tried to land a kick on Riddler, but Riddler slid back, dodging it with a grace of an Olympian. He then easily retrieved the gun from Bruce, spun it around, and jammed it against his captive’s temple, switching positions.
“Me? I’ll do it. You know I will. That’s what I’ll end up doing, anyways.”
“Why not get it over with?”
“Is that what we’ve become?” Riddler asked, “Two boys begging to die? Or has that been the case all along? Are you still that frightened boy in the alley? Am I still the boy too bored with this world?”
“You’re dodging the question with a meaningless tangent,” Bruce dared to say.
“You think my query is meaningless?” Riddler mused, “Or is that your way of building your walls higher and higher? Sheltering yourself from the truth. You want to die.”
Bruce said nothing.
“Look my in the eyes and say it,” Riddler ordered.
Bruce glared straight into Riddler’s soul, “You listen to me, Nashton. I don’t want to die. I have plenty to live for. You may think you’ve won. You’ve set up my girlfriend as a liar. You’ve forced my hand- made me work with the man who killed my friend. Now you’ve captured me. But you haven’t won. Right now, beyond these walls, my family is working to bring you down.”
Riddler said nothing.
“So know I speak the truth when I say that I’ll live on forever. To stop the psychopaths like you. The Batman is Eternal.”
“You keep calling me crazy,” Riddler said, “It’s starting to get on my nerves.”
“You asked me if I was a religious man, Nashton,” Bruce said.
Riddler raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not. Raised Catholic. But I stopped believing that some man in the sky determined my future.”
Bruce thrust both arms forward, knocking Riddler’s shins out from under him.
“My destiny is not determined by God. Not by Joe Chill.”
He stepped on Riddler’s chest.
“Especially not by you.”
He reached down and swiped the pistol from Riddler’s side.
“I.”
He disassembled the pistol with ease.
“Am.”
The loose pieces fell to the ground.
“Batman.”
He struck Riddler square in the face.
“And I decide my destiny.”
He took off running. Out the way he came. But he was severely malnourished. His speed was hampered, as was his coordination.
“The bat is leaving the cave,” Riddler’s voice crackled over speakers throughout the compound.
Bane stood in Bruce’s path almost immediately. He carried a briefcase that Bruce could only assume contained Venom syringes.
“You leave early,” Bane said, “You find our company… displeasing?”
Bruce didn’t respond in words, but in actions. He raced at Bane and diverted to his fist, primed to punch the large man. But his other hand jerked forward to snatch the briefcase.
Bruce tore the case over, and sure enough, the syringes laid next to each other, ready to be used.
“Go on. Take it. See if you can handle el poder,” Bane challenged.
“I’ve been injected with this,” Bruce said, “I know what it does. I know how hard it is to control.”
Bruce then made little dashes at Bane, pricking him with the needles.
Bane grew and grew, clothes stretching until they tore, leaving only a luchador outfit made from flexible material underneath.
“Have fun controlling it,” Bruce said, leaving the behemoth moaning in pain.
“Mister Wayne!” Mr. Freeze called out, “I don’t want to do this, but until you can secure my wife---”
Bruce turned around to see Mr. Freeze staring down his freeze ray. Aimed right at Bruce.
“And I don’t want to have to hurt you,” Bruce said, “But until I can make sure my boys are safe, and Riddler is stopped---”
He rushed Mr. Freeze, who was too frightened to react. With one swift move he dropped Mr. Freeze. He then kicked the knees of his exoskeleton with all of his might, messing with the movement mechanisms.
“Don’t come after me,” Bruce warned.
Mr. Freeze gulped.
Bruce continued on his way out, thinking back to the layout he had memorized for this mission. Turning corners. Sprinting through rooms full of insane tech.
Then, in one of the rooms, he saw something strange.
The crates. They all had one thing in common. A mark.
A single identifying mark linking them all together. He didn’t have much time to stop and look. Bane had gotten to his feet and was barreling after him.
Just one glance.
One silver ring. With seven silvers dots along it.
Then Bane was on him. Bruce hurled a few crates in front of Bane, tripping him up. With that he tore out of the room.
“Is this your way of breaking up with me?” Catwoman asked, dropping from the ceiling. The black helmet covering her face slowly retracted back into itself, leaving her face exposed.
Bruce punched it. Hard.
“Such a gentleman,” Selina hissed, spitting blood at him.
She struck with her own untamed ferocity, kicking him over the head, then slashing her energy claws across his chest.
“You don’t even get the pleasure of being broken up with,” Bruce grunted, flinging Selina over his shoulder, “I’m ghosting you.”
Bruce finally made it back to his entry point. The hole he’d made it through had been patched up.
“Misdirection,” Bruce said to himself.
In the following seconds, Bane stormed into the room, roaring. Bruce stood perfectly still.
It’d worked last year with Diablo.
It’d work again.
Bane charged at Bruce, with Bruce only springing out of the way at the last second. Bane’s impact with the wall broke the shoddy repairs, opening Bruce’s escape hatch.
Bruce jumped on Bane’s back, pulling on his ears to get him to stumble away from the wall. He then shot forward, slipped through the hole, and got back on his feet.
He was in the sewers.
Free.
He ran down the tunnels, eventually reaching a manhole that he scurried out of, and back into Gotham City.
Back in the Riddler’s compound, the Dark Triad was licking its wounds.
“Find Batman.”
Mr. Freeze swallowed hard as he heard Riddler’s cruel voice over the speakers.
“Burn down all of Gotham if you have to.”
Selina wiped the blood from her mouth.
“I want him dead.”
Bane smiled. That was something he understood.
“Now.”
A wing-ding zipped through the air and wrapped itself around the enforcer’s ankles. A spry figure sprung down from above and kicked the enforcer across the face. The enforcer was out cold.
“Nightwing and Robin,” Nightwing answered.
“Asshole,” Robin spat at the enforcer.
“Whoa there,” Nightwing said, putting a hand on Robin’s shoulder.
Nightwing reached down to pick up his steel wing-ding as Robin surveyed the area.
“How are we going to go about this?” Robin inquired.
“Take out the enforcers,” Nightwing responded.
“Every single enforcer?” Robin asked.
“How many can there be?” Nightwing shrugged.
“You are ignorant, Grayson,” Robin said.
“Cool,” Nightwing said, “Listen, Robin, this island is just around 50 square miles. It’ll take most of the day, but we can do this. And what better place to be right now? Look at that sunrise.”
The sunrise was indeed beautiful. But Robin wasn’t interested in the creamy oranges, reds, and yellows. He was interested in saving his father.
“We move quickly,” Robin said.
“Of course,” Nightwing nodded, “Take out goons, gather their weapons, get the news back to Bane that his home is safe.”
Robin picked up the enforcer’s weapon, and examined it. It was like nothing he had ever seen. A very bulky gun. There was no trigger, and no clear entry point for ammunition. He hefted the gun up and aimed it at a decrepit sign. Something in his mind told him exactly what to do. He squeezed the barrel of the gun.
A massive burst of sunrise colored energy flowed from the front of the gun, and deleted the sign from existence.
“Solar powered,” Robin observed.
“How did you-?” Nightwing started.
“I just knew,” Robin bragged.
“Well put it away. And careful not to set it off.”
“Yes. I will be careful…” Robin said, snickering.
“What are-?”
Robin aimed the gun at Nightwing.
“Whoa.”
Robin moved in on Nightwing.
“Damian, wait. No. Put that down. You don’t want to do this.”
“For too long, you have denied my greatness,” Robin growled, “No more.”
They stayed in place, eyes locked intensely.
Then, Robin dropped the gun, and fell to the ground cackling.
“Damian?” Nightwing asked, voice wavering, “Damian you good?”
“I got you!” Robin cried.
“Jesus! Damian! That is NOT okay! NOT funny!” Nightwing yelled, frustrated.
All the things that Damian deemed “lame”, “unfunny”, or “corny” came rushing to Dick’s mind. Of course this would qualify as his sense of humor.
“You- You thought I was going to blast you with the sun!” Robin convulsed with laughter.
“Oh my God. Damian. I hate you.”
Robin finally calmed down, and got back to his feet.
“I thought you were all about the mission,” Nightwing said, seething.
“Quiet, Grayson. You are only- how you say- butthurt?” Robin quipped.
“You have a screwed up sense of humor,” Nightwing said, scooping the gun up off the ground, “Remind me to never work with you again.”
Nightwing stormed down the road, letting the gun dangle from his fist. Robin got right behind him.
They had a big day ahead of them.
- - -
Tim smiled at Tam through the glass. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been here. All he knew that Tam was adamant about only staying a week, not the five that they’d been asked to stay.
“Soon,” Tam mouthed as she sighed.
“Soon,” Tim nodded. He was a little bit worried about how Bruce, Dick, and Damian were faring against Riddler. Spoiler: not great.
His containment capsule was nothing fancy. Two decently sized gray rooms with one-way windows except for the one connecting him and Tam.
Tim wished with all his might that could he break through the glass. Reach through and touch Tam. He hadn’t felt her for years. Then, their reunion had been brief.
There was a loud buzz, followed by a quick hiss and release of steam. One of the walls slid open, and Dr. Michael Holt walked in in a full hazmat suit.
“A week already?” Tim asked.
“No,” Dr. Holt said, “Just news. And… not the good kind.”
Dr. Holt had to focus in. He has an assignment. He couldn’t let emotions get in the way. Like Waller taught him.
“Out with it,” Tim said, preparing for the worst.
“The Phantom Zone Energy is potentially fatal,” Dr. Holt recited, as if giving a classroom presentation, “Once any portion of the Phantom Zone breaches our world, it adopts deadly properties. Your friend soaked in it for years.”
“She’s going to-?”
“If she keeps herself hooked up to the device we equipped you with before heading in, she should keep the Energy at bay,” Dr. Holt hoped, “But it’s anyone’s guess. You are welcome to leave, but she needs to stay longer.”
“She stays, I stay,” Tim insisted.
- - -
“I am one of five. He who receives me will perish. He who sent me will become king. What am I?”
Bruce looked up, nothing even resembling an answer in his mind.
“I’ll get out.”
“Are you a religious man?” Riddler asked.
“I’ll get you.”
“I’m not looking to get introspective and controversial with this religion topic.”
“You can’t contain me.”
“It’s just- if you were, this answer would come easily.”
“A stone.”
“Perfect. So you are a man of religion.”
“And when I get you.”
“How do feel about God?”
“I will make you pay for your sins.”
“The way you speak… do you feel that you are God?”
“Not just your sins against me.”
“Judge?”
“But against everyone you’ve ever harmed.”
“Jury?”
“And you’ll wish you had never been born.”
“Executioner?”
With that, the tube surrounding Bruce shattered into microscopic bits. Riddler immediately produced a gun and placed it against his own skull.
“Let’s see it, my Lord,” Riddler dared him.
“You’re more insane than the Joker,” Bruce said, still reeling from the shock of his release.
“This isn’t insanity,” Riddler said, frowning, “Actually, I’m offended you would suggest that.”
“Then what is this?” Bruce said, getting to his feet.
“A calculated risk.”
“You miscalculated,” Bruce growled, wrapping his finger around the trigger that Riddler held out for him.
“You do this. You kill me. You kill yourself too.”
Bruce tightened his grip on the pistol.
“Batman. He is the hero that rises above. Doesn’t kill. Doesn’t use guns. So go ahead. Shoot me now. End me. Bruce Wayne will survive. But Batman?”
“You miscalculated,” Bruce repeated.
He tried to land a kick on Riddler, but Riddler slid back, dodging it with a grace of an Olympian. He then easily retrieved the gun from Bruce, spun it around, and jammed it against his captive’s temple, switching positions.
“Me? I’ll do it. You know I will. That’s what I’ll end up doing, anyways.”
“Why not get it over with?”
“Is that what we’ve become?” Riddler asked, “Two boys begging to die? Or has that been the case all along? Are you still that frightened boy in the alley? Am I still the boy too bored with this world?”
“You’re dodging the question with a meaningless tangent,” Bruce dared to say.
“You think my query is meaningless?” Riddler mused, “Or is that your way of building your walls higher and higher? Sheltering yourself from the truth. You want to die.”
Bruce said nothing.
“Look my in the eyes and say it,” Riddler ordered.
Bruce glared straight into Riddler’s soul, “You listen to me, Nashton. I don’t want to die. I have plenty to live for. You may think you’ve won. You’ve set up my girlfriend as a liar. You’ve forced my hand- made me work with the man who killed my friend. Now you’ve captured me. But you haven’t won. Right now, beyond these walls, my family is working to bring you down.”
Riddler said nothing.
“So know I speak the truth when I say that I’ll live on forever. To stop the psychopaths like you. The Batman is Eternal.”
“You keep calling me crazy,” Riddler said, “It’s starting to get on my nerves.”
“You asked me if I was a religious man, Nashton,” Bruce said.
Riddler raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not. Raised Catholic. But I stopped believing that some man in the sky determined my future.”
Bruce thrust both arms forward, knocking Riddler’s shins out from under him.
“My destiny is not determined by God. Not by Joe Chill.”
He stepped on Riddler’s chest.
“Especially not by you.”
He reached down and swiped the pistol from Riddler’s side.
“I.”
He disassembled the pistol with ease.
“Am.”
The loose pieces fell to the ground.
“Batman.”
He struck Riddler square in the face.
“And I decide my destiny.”
He took off running. Out the way he came. But he was severely malnourished. His speed was hampered, as was his coordination.
“The bat is leaving the cave,” Riddler’s voice crackled over speakers throughout the compound.
Bane stood in Bruce’s path almost immediately. He carried a briefcase that Bruce could only assume contained Venom syringes.
“You leave early,” Bane said, “You find our company… displeasing?”
Bruce didn’t respond in words, but in actions. He raced at Bane and diverted to his fist, primed to punch the large man. But his other hand jerked forward to snatch the briefcase.
Bruce tore the case over, and sure enough, the syringes laid next to each other, ready to be used.
“Go on. Take it. See if you can handle el poder,” Bane challenged.
“I’ve been injected with this,” Bruce said, “I know what it does. I know how hard it is to control.”
Bruce then made little dashes at Bane, pricking him with the needles.
Bane grew and grew, clothes stretching until they tore, leaving only a luchador outfit made from flexible material underneath.
“Have fun controlling it,” Bruce said, leaving the behemoth moaning in pain.
“Mister Wayne!” Mr. Freeze called out, “I don’t want to do this, but until you can secure my wife---”
Bruce turned around to see Mr. Freeze staring down his freeze ray. Aimed right at Bruce.
“And I don’t want to have to hurt you,” Bruce said, “But until I can make sure my boys are safe, and Riddler is stopped---”
He rushed Mr. Freeze, who was too frightened to react. With one swift move he dropped Mr. Freeze. He then kicked the knees of his exoskeleton with all of his might, messing with the movement mechanisms.
“Don’t come after me,” Bruce warned.
Mr. Freeze gulped.
Bruce continued on his way out, thinking back to the layout he had memorized for this mission. Turning corners. Sprinting through rooms full of insane tech.
Then, in one of the rooms, he saw something strange.
The crates. They all had one thing in common. A mark.
A single identifying mark linking them all together. He didn’t have much time to stop and look. Bane had gotten to his feet and was barreling after him.
Just one glance.
One silver ring. With seven silvers dots along it.
Then Bane was on him. Bruce hurled a few crates in front of Bane, tripping him up. With that he tore out of the room.
“Is this your way of breaking up with me?” Catwoman asked, dropping from the ceiling. The black helmet covering her face slowly retracted back into itself, leaving her face exposed.
Bruce punched it. Hard.
“Such a gentleman,” Selina hissed, spitting blood at him.
She struck with her own untamed ferocity, kicking him over the head, then slashing her energy claws across his chest.
“You don’t even get the pleasure of being broken up with,” Bruce grunted, flinging Selina over his shoulder, “I’m ghosting you.”
Bruce finally made it back to his entry point. The hole he’d made it through had been patched up.
“Misdirection,” Bruce said to himself.
In the following seconds, Bane stormed into the room, roaring. Bruce stood perfectly still.
It’d worked last year with Diablo.
It’d work again.
Bane charged at Bruce, with Bruce only springing out of the way at the last second. Bane’s impact with the wall broke the shoddy repairs, opening Bruce’s escape hatch.
Bruce jumped on Bane’s back, pulling on his ears to get him to stumble away from the wall. He then shot forward, slipped through the hole, and got back on his feet.
He was in the sewers.
Free.
He ran down the tunnels, eventually reaching a manhole that he scurried out of, and back into Gotham City.
Back in the Riddler’s compound, the Dark Triad was licking its wounds.
“Find Batman.”
Mr. Freeze swallowed hard as he heard Riddler’s cruel voice over the speakers.
“Burn down all of Gotham if you have to.”
Selina wiped the blood from her mouth.
“I want him dead.”
Bane smiled. That was something he understood.
“Now.”
This is probably my proudest chapter so far.
Go catch up on other corners of the Eternal Universe!
Green Arrow: Eternal by @Mechanist Gamma
Red Hood and the Outlaws: Eternal by @HydreigonBorn37 ... That's right ladies and gents- they're back!
Superman: Eternal by @Generation Sect
Also, @The Ultimate Lucky N is working on a V for Vendetta miniseries! Go check it out!
Go catch up on other corners of the Eternal Universe!
Green Arrow: Eternal by @Mechanist Gamma
Red Hood and the Outlaws: Eternal by @HydreigonBorn37 ... That's right ladies and gents- they're back!
Superman: Eternal by @Generation Sect
Also, @The Ultimate Lucky N is working on a V for Vendetta miniseries! Go check it out!
