On the spaceship, inside the medical pod.
Dane beckoned Clark to place Jason and his mother on the operating table.
He rested his palm on Jason's body, and a ray of light radiated downward, revealing Jason's internal organs as if viewed through an X-ray.
"The collarbone and ribs are broken in multiple places. One rib has pierced the lung," Dane said grimly.
"It's a miracle he's still alive."
After a moment of thought, Dane made a gesture, and cast a spell on Jason. The laughter finally subsided.
"The Anomaly Exorcism magic seems to neutralize the laughing gas effect. A simple fix," Dane muttered.
Thank you again, Solomon's wisdom—it works wonders.
He performed the same spell on Jason's mother, clearing her system of the laughing gas as well.
When he was done, Dane order: "Cortana, prepare for orthopedic surgery."
"Understood, Dane," Cortana replied.
Clark stared at him, puzzled. "Cortana?"
"What's wrong with the name?" Dane shrugged.
"You can name an AI?" Clark asked.
"Of course. Why not?"
"When did you two get so... familiar?"
"Just today. Cortana has been teaching me some things."
"Oh. Well, she's certainly smart. Kryptonian AI technology is incredibly advanced."
"Thank you for the compliment, Dane," Cortana interjected.
"You're welcome," Dane replied casually.
Clark glanced at Dane as he moved confidently about the ship. For a moment, Clark felt like a bystander. Luckily, he still had his father to lean on for support.
"By the way, who are these people?" Dane asked casually. He'd only caught a brief explanation earlier and hadn't learned their names.
"The boy is Jason, and this woman is his mother. That's all I know," Clark replied.
"Oh, Jason?" Dane repeated, his expression suddenly changing as realization dawned.
He stared at the boy on the operating table. "Jason? As in... that Jason?
Could this be the Jason Todd he was thinking of? The second generation Robin? For those unfamiliar with DC lore: Jason Todd was the second Robin. After his death, he was resurrected as the Red Hood. He's also a central character in the game Batman: Arkham Knight, appearing as the dashing but vengeful Arkham Knight.
He though, In the DCEU timeline, the second Robin had seemingly died within the past two years.
In Batman v Superman (BvS), a glass case in the Batcave held a tattered Robin suit, marked with the words "Hahaha, joke's on you, Batman" in yellow paint—a grim relic of Jason's fate.
The only person capable of driving someone like the Joker to such lengths had to be connected to Batman. This had to be that Jason.
Dane patted Clark on the shoulder, a look of satisfaction on his face. Clark scratched his head, confused.
See? It all connects back to Batman, doesn't it?
After robine was recovered, they brought him to meet Bruce Wayne in good condition.
......
The Streets of Gotham
Batman sped down the streets of Gotham, relentlessly pursuing the car ahead. The Batmobile tore through obstacles, smashing facilities and buildings without hesitation.
Inside the Batmobile, Batman's jaw was set, his cold chin locked in a tense grimace. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, as though he might rip it apart.
There was a fire burning in his chest—a fire of vengeance that could only be quenched with the blood of his enemy.
Just then, his car phone rang. The caller ID read: Director Gordon. He answered.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Gordon's voice thundered through the speakers.
"I'm after the Joker," Batman replied coldly, his eyes fixed on the road.
"No, you're destroying the city!" Gordon shouted. From a live helicopter feed, he watched in horror as the Batmobile plowed through Gotham's infrastructure and citizens' private property. His temples throbbed.
"Can't you be more careful? Just a little bit?"
"He's getting away," Batman retorted sharply.
Without another word, he pressed a red button. The front of the Batmobile split apart, revealing a massive cannon at its center.
Gordon saw the live feed and froze, muttering under his breath, "Holy... shit..."
With a deafening boom, the rocket fired. The car in front was hit, sending it rolled several times before finally skidding to a stop, miraculously landing upright.
Inside the wrecked car, the Joker stirred, his body battered but strangely exhilarated. He wasn't in pain—at least, not the kind he noticed. He gazed through the cracked windshield as Batman's silhouette emerged.
"That's it, baby! That's it!" the Joker shouted gleefully. "Come here! Come here!"
Batman obliged. He stormed toward the Joker, grabbed him by the lapels of his purple suit, and lifted him into the air.
"You killed him!" Batman growled, his voice filled with rage."
The Joker grinned. "To be precise, I killed him and his mother. A family reunion, wouldn't you say?"
Batman didn't wait for more. He punched the Joker in the stomach, sending him crashing to the ground.
The Joker doubled over, coughing and laughing. "Is that all you've got? Little Bat... or is Little Robin not worth fighting for anymore?"
Fueled by anger, Batman tackled him, pinning the Joker to the ground. He unleashed punch after punch, each one heavier than the last, leaving the Joker bruised, bloodied, and unrecognizable.
Despite the beating, the Joker's smile only grew wider. His eyes gleamed as he looked up at Batman, like an artist admiring his masterpiece.
"Yes... that's it," the Joker crooned. "Hate me! Regret your failures! It's your fault Robin died... your arrogance... your powerlessness!"
Batman's fists hammered down harder, his breathing ragged, his vision blurred by rage.
"Kill me," the Joker hissed, his voice a mix of triumph and desperation. "Kill me with your hatred!"
But Batman couldn't do it.
The sound of sirens grew louder. Gordon and his officers arrived, pulling Batman off the Joker. It took five or six officers to restrain him.
"No!" the Joker screamed as they dragged him toward a police car. "Let him finish it! Just one step more! Kill me, you coward!"
The Joker struggled but was too weak to resist after the beating and the chase. He was thrown into the police car, his opportunity lost.
As the Joker was driven away, Batman collapsed onto the pavement. He stared at the darkened sky, silent and defeated.
First Barbara. Now Jason. How many more lives would he fail to protect?
Gordon approached him, recognizing the despair in Batman's hunched figure. Without a word, he patted Batman's shoulder and stepped away, instructing his officers to leave the area and give him space.
Years of partnership had taught Gordon one thing: Batman was strong. He wouldn't break. And he didn't need comforting words—not now.
They had worked together for years, and Gordon knew the kind of man Batman was—strong, resilient, and unyielding. He wouldn't be brought down, and he didn't need comforting words.
After a few moments, Batman rose to his feet, his grim expression once again calm and composed. Without a word, he climbed back into the Batmobile.
The engine roared to life, and with a deafening whine, the Batmobile sped away, disappearing into the shadows of Gotham.
-----------------------
At the same time, Jason Todd, who was in the medical pod, opened his eyes. Gasping, he jerked his upper body upright, only to be overwhelmed by sharp pain radiating through every inch of his body.
"Please lie down. You've just undergone surgery and need to rest," said a calm, feminine voice, startling him.
Jason turned his head toward the source, his eyes scanning the unfamiliar cabin. He exhaled in relief when he saw his mother lying safely on the operating table nearby.
Taking a moment to gather himself, he glanced down at his body. His brows furrowed deeply as he noticed tubes running in and out of him, pumping an green liquid into his veins.
"What is this?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
"These are organic macromolecular concentrates," the voice replied matter-of-factly. "They are designed to repair damage to your lungs, mend broken bones, and regenerate muscle tissue."
Jason's frown deepened. "Who are you?"
"I'm Cortana, the intelligent AI operating this ship."
Jason blinked. "Ship? What ship?"
Jason was keenly aware of the point, but Cortana didn't answer, and the hatch opened, and a strong man dressed in red entered.
Before Cortana could respond, the cabin hatch slid open with a faint hiss, and a tall, muscular man in strode in confidently.
"Looks like you're recovering well," the man said with a grin.
Jason didn't recognize him, but it was clear this man—and whoever else was involved—had saved him and his mother. After a moment's hesitation, Jason muttered, "Thank you..."
"You're welcome," the man replied with a wave of his hand, then added with a chuckle, "but I'm not the one who really saved you."
Dane stepped aside, gesturing toward another man entering the room—Clark, still dressed in his iconic blue and red suit.
Jason's eyes widened. He recognized Clark now—this was the man who had stood unfazed in the face of a hail of bullets.
"Just you know, he's Superman, and I'm Shazam."
"Superman?" Jason echoed, glancing at Clark with a strange expression, though he refrained from saying more.
But Clark looked embarrassed, and he looked at Dane helplessly: "Dane, this name is really a bit deliberate..."
Dane's expression didn't falter. "Sorry, I'm Shazam," he said dryly. "I have no idea who you're talking about."
Clark sighed again, his embarrassment deepening, while Jason watched the exchange, still processing the situation.