"It's lucky we didn't take the tram." Cindy said to Eugene next to her. She stroked her blonde hair, which was wet and stuck to her forehead, and focused her eyes on the dashboard. "At this rate, we'll be there in about half an hour."
Eugene looked out the window at the rain. Not far away, on the viaduct, there was a trolley car that had stopped in mid-air because of the city's power supply. He wondered if there was anyone inside, if anyone was waiting for them to go home.
If the worst were to happen, these people would never be able to get home.
Eugene had thought about it before. Everyone else had homes, but he only had a rented room. He seemed to be alone forever.
"If I had the opportunity to leave after things are over here and find a way to go to Earth 0, what would you do?"
He turned to Cindy and asked her a leaping question, keeping out of earshot of the fussy reporters and looking away from the power outage.
Cindy thought for a moment, then shook her head. "This is my world. When you say Earth 0, is this your home?"
"No, it's not. My home is a little farther away... It's just a place I know better." He fumbled. There were not many cigars left in the case.
'Where is your home?
Cindy said the same thing. Then she stopped the car because she saw a small supermarket on the side of the road.
They get out of the car, she knocks the lock off with a long stick very skillfully, and they go inside and search and continue their conversation.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it has a number, maybe it doesn't."
She stuffed a couple of brightly colored alcoholic drinks into her backpack and set her sights on the puffed food, saying casually as she rummaged through the bag.
"Why don't you stay here and we can be partners for a long time."
"Your world is numbered Earth-minus 11 in the bloodfield, representing the eleventh world of the Dark Multiverse, and Barbatos cannot be defeated here, he is the God of the Dark multiverse. If I want to stop this crisis once and for all, not only do I have to hide it from them here, I have to travel to Earth-0. It's the only way I can save myself."
Eugene spoke out. These emotions and thoughts had been running around in his head for so long that he needed someone to share them with him. He didn't need any real help, just to listen to what he knew.
Cindy's hand paused in the air for a moment. Then she nonchalantly held the puffed food with the tomato on it in her arms.
"Really? It looks like you've got a lot to explain to me..."
...
Chief Gordon regained consciousness from the darkness, touched the back of his head and recalled what had happened before.
He was pulled into the car by a group of men, but not before he scratched the license plate of a black van into his glasses as he fell to his knees in the mud.
He stuck it in a crevice between the rocks on the side of the road. If someone could spot it, they might be able to track down his position.
But that was a long shot. After all, the bats had left the city. Who else could do it?
Although he was optimistic about some of the young men in the police department, it was only optimistic. He knew that even if the police found the glasses, they might not be able to trace them back here.
After all, he had no idea where he was. The men in black had knocked him out when they got into the car.
Now he was in a dark room, but it was not a cell, as he had imagined. On the contrary, the bed beneath him was so soft that you could feel the silks when you touched it.
This did not make him feel relaxed. Being an old policeman, he could sense that his surroundings were very damp and eerie. It was supposed to be underground.
Glancing at his watch, he's only been unconscious for a little over an hour, not enough time for those vans to leave Gotham, so he's still in the city.
He slowly picked himself up, with everything intact except for his gun and the handcuffs still around his waist.
It was as if he had been invited as a real guest, albeit in a more forceful manner.
He fumbled around in the dark and clicked the bedside lamp, which lit the small room with a soft glow.
On the bedside table, there was a glass of water, a bottle of painkillers and aspirin, with a prescription note and doctor's order on it, and his name on the patient's side.
They had picked it up from his house! They broke into his house!
'That's right, Barbara! Gordon remembered what the woman in black had said to herself, that they had gone to the police station with another party!
He got up and, instead of taking his medicine, walked quickly to the door.
Pressing on the handle, he twisted it, and the door opened.
Of course, not surprisingly, there are still several women in black guarding the door.
'Where is my daughter? Let me see her! '
Gordon, frantic, grabbed a woman by the door, but was soon pulled away by more hands.
"Chief Gordon, our boss is waiting for you."
Just then the woman who had punched him earlier came around the corner of the hallway. She walked slowly up to Gordon at almost the same pace with every step. She smiled at him without a smile.
Gordon realized that he was in a cold corridor, with a pale light overhead and a wall of tile, as if he were in a hospital.
'Where's my daughter?
The woman rubs her temples like a headache and sighs, "You'll know when you meet our boss."
Gordon wrenched himself away from his captors, straightened his trench coat, patting it against the nonexistent dust as if his clothes had been soiled by them. "So what are you waiting for? Lead the way."
The woman did not mind, and turned her head back to the way she had come.
Gordon looked carefully around him, but there was nothing to be seen except to reinforce his conviction that he was somewhere underground.
The corridor was very long, so white that one could not see the end of it, and on either side were small rooms, but the doors were closed and one did not know what was inside.
After several twists and turns along the passage, and after Gordon had lost her way, they finally came to a door of a larger size.
It was made of solid wood, beautifully trimmed with gold and enamel, and bore reliefs of the three Fates, with a vivid expression.
The woman knocked on the door, then stepped back to raise an eyebrow at Gordon and gesture an invitation.
Gordon walked in undaunted.
In this room, he felt as if he had arrived in the study of Wayne's mansion, surrounded by tall shelves filled with books, and not far away, a fireplace was burning brightly.
There were family portraits on the walls, soft wool carpets on the floor, elegant handmade sofas in front of the fireplace, sculptures by masters in the room, and even the best aroma of black tea from the teapot on the coffee table.
All this made him doubt his previous judgment that this was the mansion of some great family and not some underground labyrinth.
That is, until he sees a huge desk not far from the fireplace, behind which sits an unexpected figure.
Even when he was alone, the man sat upright, his hair meticulously pulled back, he was wearing a fine handmade suit, he had a rose in his breast pocket, he was gently stroking his white cat, and he was smiling at Gordon.
He was old, much older than the last time Gordon had seen him. His black hair was now white at the temples, and his face and the backs of his hands were wrinkled.
But the only thing that did not change were his eyes, still as calm and commanding as they had been ten years before.
"Gordon, my old friend, welcome to my family," he said.
"Falcone...."
For a moment Gordon could only utter the name, looking in amazement at the figure, and the name was too deeply involved for words.
For the first ten years of his working life, Falcone had been the mountain above his head, the man who had been involved in everything in Gotham, the bars, the restaurants, the gas stations, the movie theaters, even the hot dog stands that pushed carts down the road.
He ran Gotham's dark Order, where everyone lived under the thumb of a mob family.