Damian and Barbara teleported back to Wayne's mansion, where Dane was waiting for them.
"What happened?" Damian asked.
Dane hesitated for a moment, then said, "The Scarecrow is dead. He was killed by... your brother."
Damian's brows furrowed. "Brother? Which one? Jason? He's not my brother."
"Who the hell are you?" Barbara blurted out, as She glanced around, recognizing the surroundings. Of course she knew this place—it was Wayne Manor, and she had trained here many times before.
Dane smirked slightly, as if enjoying the drama. "Let me introduce you. This kid," he said, gesturing toward Damian, "is the future legal heir of the Wayne Group—Damian Wayne. Also Bruce Wayne's biological son."
"It can't be!" Barbara exclaimed. "Bruce never said anything about it," she added, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Because he doesn't know!" Damian cut in, his tone sharp and irritated. He unmask, revealing his face. His expression was an unhappy scowl, one that seemed to be his default.
Barbara faltered, her gaze fixed on Damian. The resemblance to Bruce was striking.
"He looks exactly like him," she murmured, her voice barely audible.
Damian noticed her reaction and rolled his eyes. "Back then, Bruce and my mom had a moment, and then he ran off, leaving her to deal with the consequences. She gave birth to me at my grandfather's house."
Barbara looked embarrassed as she thought that this could indeed be something he could do. His reputation as a playboy was well-known, and no one could guarantee he wouldn't end up causing... complications.
She decided to change the subject, turning her attention to Dane. "And who are you? Why are you here in Bruce's house?"
Dane gave a small smile, clearly prepared for the question. "I have two identities. The first is as Dane Davis, the billionaire president of Pioneer Technology. You may have heard of it."
Barbara furrowed her brow, searching her memory.
"The second identity," Dane continued, his voice taking on a dramatic tone, "is Shazam. Well... let's call it being a god."
Barbara blinked, taken aback. "god? Shazam?" she repeated, her skepticism evident.
Dane nodded, unfazed. "I'm here on behalf of the Justice League. I've come to invite Bruce to join us."
Barbara looked at it closely, and finally remembered. She had seen Dane Davis on the news—he was hailed as the fastest self-made billionaire of the year.
She hadn't paid much attention at the time; as Batman's personal secretary, her focus was on fighting crime, not keeping up with tech entrepreneurs. But this... Shazam and Justice League talk? It was hard to process.
Barbara wanted to dismiss it as lunacy, but the memory of how she and Damian had been teleported here in an instant gave her pause. Maybe... just maybe, he wasn't lying.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps. Alfred appeared, rushing into the room. He froze when he saw Barbara and then exclaimed in surprise, "Miss Barbara, you're here!"
"What's going on, Alfred?" Barbara asked.
Alfred's surprised expression quickly shifted to one of concern. "Lord Wayne hasn't been in contact for some time. We feared you'd been captured by the Scarecrow, so..."
Barbara sighed, finishing his thought. "So Bruce went into the criminals' stronghold alone and got himself into trouble?"
Before Alfred could respond, Dane interjected. "Let me guess—he's in a bitter battle right now?"
Alfred nodded anxiously. "Yes, sir. He's at the Penguin's Northern Ice Factory."
Dane glanced at his watch. "We were supposed to meet him earlier. It seems Bruce has been wasting time. It's clear he can't handle this on his own."
He suddenly tilted his head slightly, as if listening to someone. Then, he spoke again. "Clark, did you hear that? Tell Diana to come along."
"Who are you talking to?" Damian asked, looking puzzled.
Before Dane could reply, two figures appeared: Clark Kent, also known as Superman, and Diana Prince, the mighty Wonder Woman.
"So," Clark said with an eager smile, "we finally have a job to do?"
Diana remained silent, but the determination in her eyes was unmistakable.
Dane sighed, shaking his head. "Actually, in our line of work, having no job is the best-case scenario."
Clark looked embarrassed and scratched the back of his head. Well, last time I tried to deal with the Joker, he got away, so I'm itching for a win.
Dane's addressed the group. "Let's get down to business. Batman can't handle this incident on his own—we need to intervene directly. Superman, head north to the Ice Factory and rescue him."
Clark's face lit up with confidence. "Leave it to me!"
"Hmph. You look capable, but are you sure you can handle it, big man?" Damian quipped, his voice laced with habitual mockery.
Clark, unfazed by the jab, simply smiled. He had faced countless doubters over the years, and a child's taunts were hardly enough to rattle him. But Clark's response was nothing short of calm and composed.
He smiled at the boy, then tugged off his coat, revealing the iconic blue suit beneath. "I'll take care of it," he said.
With that, Clark's feet lifted off the ground. His movements were smooth, defying gravity as if it were second nature.
Damian's eyes widened in astonishment, while Alfred and Barbara looked equally stunned, their expressions a mix of awe and disbelief.
Clark gave them a final nod and shot out the window with a resounding whoosh, disappearing into the sky.
Diana stepped forward, her calm demeanor contrasting with the whirlwind of emotions around her. "What's my mission?" she asked.
Dane reached behind his back, producing a capsule-like container filled with a glowing blue liquid. "The Scarecrow has set up a device—he's calling it Tempest—in Simon Stark's facility. Its purpose is to disperse his fear gas across the city. This capsule contains a neutralizer. Your mission is to deliver it to the device and disable the gas."
Diana nodded, her response succinct. "Understood."
Damian turned his attention to Diana, his tone skeptical. "You won't screw this up, will you?"
Diana smiled at Damian—a warm, radiant smile that was almost disarming. Even Barbara found herself momentarily captivated by her presence.
Without a word, Diana shrugged off her coat, revealing the gleaming golden battle armor beneath.
Wrapping her lasso around her hand, she cast it into the air. The golden rope shot upward, disappearing into the clouds as if it had latched onto something unseen.
With a powerful tug, Diana lifted herself into the sky, her ascent as graceful as it was impossible.
Damian stared, his mouth slightly open, before muttering under his breath, "Holy shit."
For the first time in a long while, he genuinely doubted everything he thought he knew. Turning to Dane, his expression was one of utter disbelief. "This isn't scientific!"
Dane smirked, leaning back casually. "It's a pity, kid, but this isn't science—it's magic."
Damian looked like he was about to argue but stopped himself, instead folding his arms with a frustrated huff.
Dane turned his attention to a nearby console, typing in a sequence of commands. "Now, let's get back to business," he said, his tone sharp and authoritative.
"The Scarecrow has a backup plan. I've assigned Wonder Woman to deal with it." He glanced at Damian before continuing. "Superman is already rescuing Batman, so here's your mission: you're heading to Arkham Asylum. Neutralize anyone taking the opportunity to stir up trouble."
Damian raised an eyebrow, but Dane's tone left no room for questions.
"And most importantly," Dane added, "the Joker must be dealt with. Permanently. That lunatic cannot be allowed to walk away this time."
Damian's eyes narrowed, a flicker of dark understanding crossing his face.
Barbara and Alfred exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing.
Dane finished typing and turned to Damian. "Well? What's your answer?"
A moment passed before Damian responded, his voice sharp and confident. "OK!"
Without hesitation, he activated his suit, the mask snapping into place. As he moved to leave, Barbara called after him, "Damian, be careful!"
------------------
Northern Ice Factory.
Batman and Nightwing stood back-to-back, surrounded by a heavily armed mercenary regiment.
Batman cast a sharp, disapproving look at Nightwing. "I told you to go back to Blüdhaven."
Nightwing, ever the optimist, responded with a wry smile. "And miss all the fun? Come on, Bruce. When will you ever just say, 'Thank you,' or admit you need help?"
Despite the desperate situation, Batman allowed himself a rare, subtle smile. "Never. Don't count on it."
Nightwing had been tracking an illicit shipment of munitions in Blüdhaven when his investigation led him to Gotham. Seeing the chaos unfolding, he'd decided to stay and assist Bruce. Unfortunately, like Batman, he had fallen into a carefully laid trap.
From the shadows, the Penguin emerged, flanked by Black Mask and Two-Face. Their laughter echoed ominously through the factory.
"Hahaha! Two bats for the price of one!" Penguin cackled, clapping his gloved hands together in delight.
Two-Face stepped forward, flipping his coin. "Let's leave your fate to chance, shall we? Heads or tails—it all ends here."
Black Mask, as ruthless as ever, cut through the theatrics with a wave of his hand. "Enough! Kill them. Now."
The mercenaries raised their automatic rifles in unison, the sound of magazines snapping.
Batman's expression darkened as he quickly swept his cape around himself and Nightwing, using its reinforced, bulletproof material as their defense.
"Stay close," Batman muttered. Nightwing's bodysuit offered minimal protection against gunfire, and his unarmored head made him an easy target.
The mercenaries opened fire, a deafening hail of bullets echoing throughout the factory.
But before the first round could land, someone—descended from above.
A flash streaked through ceiling above shattered as a figure plummeted to the ground. The hail of bullets collided with an immovable force, ricocheting harmlessly in all directions.
When the dust settled, a man stood in the center of the chaos, his posture unshaken, his presence larger than life.
The flowing red cape. The unmistakable blue suit. The confident, almost boyish smile that could only belong to one person. It was Superman.
The mercenaries froze, their weapons suddenly feeling useless in their hands. Penguin stumbled back in shock, his monocle falling from his face.
Black Mask scowled, his grip tightening on his weapon. "Shoot him!" he barked, but his voice faltered.
Superman turned his gaze toward Batman and Nightwing, his expression calm and reassuring. "You guys okay?"
Nightwing blinked in disbelief, then let out a low whistle. "Man, I've got to say, your timing is impeccable."
Batman, ever the pragmatist, simply nodded. "We'll talk later. Right now, we have work to do."
Superman's smile grew. "That's what I'm here for."
He turned toward the mercenaries, his eyes glowing faintly red. "Now, let's make this quick, shall we?"