The red warning signal on the screen flashed with an urgent intensity, a clear indication that no defense could prevent the incoming attack—only swift evasion could save Batman from the imminent danger. But the enemy had arrived with terrifying suddenness. One moment, Charlie was deeply engrossed in activating detective mode to scan the room for clues; the next, a hulking figure had burst through the wall, catching him entirely off guard. The milliseconds it took to process the situation were all it took for the assailant to close the distance.
Batman was struck squarely in the chest by the massive figure. The impact was like being hit by a freight train, sending him hurtling backward with tremendous force. He crashed through the wooden door, splintering it into pieces, and tumbled into the living room, his armored body skidding across the floor before coming to a halt.
The figure that had attacked him loomed in the shattered doorway. He was a monstrous sight to behold, his once-human form grotesquely transformed by some unnatural force. He wore only a strained white vest that barely contained his swollen, muscular body; the fabric stretched to its limits by the bulging mass of his torso. His facial features were horrifically distorted—his eyes, bloodshot and bulging, seemed ready to pop out of their sockets. His breathing was heavy and labored, his chest heaving with each rasping breath, sounding like the snarl of a cornered beast.
This grotesque visage made it nearly impossible to recognize any trace of the man's original identity. However, the advanced scanning system in Batman's helmet quickly initiated a facial recognition analysis. Despite the nightmarish alterations, the system swiftly identified the attacker.
"Ferb?" Charlie whispered in disbelief as the name appeared in the corner of his HUD.
It was almost inconceivable. Ferb, the mild-mannered owner of the coffee shop who had recently gone missing, was now standing before him as a monstrous parody of his former self. The infection—whatever it was—had twisted him into something far beyond human.
"You think you can take her from me? Never!" Ferb snarled, his voice slurred and thick as though speaking through a mouthful of gravel. "Not while I'm here!"
Charlie's mind raced, trying to make sense of Ferb's words, but there was no time to ponder. Ferb let out a wild, guttural scream, and with terrifying speed, he charged at Batman once more.
Batman reacted instantly, side-stepping just in time to avoid Ferb's wild swing. The force of Ferb's charge was so great that it sent him barreling into the wall, which cracked under the impact. Batman countered with two precise strikes to Ferb's vital points, each blow delivered with the expertise of a master martial artist. Any ordinary man would have been incapacitated, nerves paralyzed by the strikes. But Ferb was far from ordinary now—he barely flinched, his eyes burning with feral rage.
Ferb was not just strong—he was fast. His movements were swift and unpredictable, and the warning indicators in Batman's HUD flashed rapidly as the infected man launched another flurry of attacks.
Batman dropped low, sliding between Ferb's legs to evade a crushing blow, and as he came up behind him, he flicked his wrist, sending a bat dart flying. The dart embedded itself in Ferb's palm, but instead of falling back, Ferb merely looked at it with an almost mocking expression—until the dart detonated in a burst of electricity. Sparks flew as Ferb's massive body convulsed, the smell of burning flesh filling the air as black smoke curled from his skin.
Batman rose to his feet, prepared to deploy his next gadget, when a sudden, dull thud reverberated through the room.
Charlie's gaming headset, equipped with advanced surround sound, allowed him to hear every noise as though he were right there in the suit. He could tell from the sound's direction and intensity that it had come from behind him.
But it was almost too late.
The back wall of the house exploded inward as another figure crashed through, sending debris flying in all directions. A shrill, piercing cry filled the air as the new attacker—a woman with wild, tangled black hair and long, claw-like nails—lunged at Batman with deadly intent.
There was no time for evasion. Charlie's reflexes kicked in, and he quickly pressed the right button to initiate a defensive maneuver. Batman raised his arm just in time to block one of the woman's slashing claws, but the other raked across his chest, leaving a deep gouge in the outer layer of his suit. The scratch exposed the reinforced fabric and armor beneath, a testament to the sheer force behind her attack.
Batman reacted swiftly, delivering a powerful backhand to the woman's face, which sent her reeling backward. As she staggered, the facial recognition software identified her—it was Chloé, Ferb's wife—the missing woman.
Even as he registered her identity, Charlie saw another red warning flash across his screen—Ferb was charging at him again, and Chloé had already recovered and was lunging at him once more.
The infection that had transformed the couple was far from ordinary. It had made them something more than human, endowing them with both tremendous strength and a terrifying level of instability.
The intensity of the infection had granted them superhuman abilities, but it had also pushed them to the brink of physical collapse. Their attacks were relentless, their speed almost unnatural. To an expert fighter like Batman, their techniques were riddled with flaws—openings that he could have exploited easily in any normal circumstance. Yet their sheer speed and the resilience of their mutated bodies made them formidable foes. Every strike that should have incapacitated them only seemed to drive them into a deeper frenzy.
Batman was forced to use every ounce of his skill, his movements a blur of precision and agility as he deflected and countered their attacks. His dark silhouette moved like a shadow through the chaos, his cape swirling around him as he dodged and evaded with inhuman grace.
Ordinarily, Batman avoided direct confrontation. His greatest strength lay in preparation—observing from the shadows, formulating a strategy, and striking with calculated precision. He would select the perfect tools for the job, employ the most effective tactics, and systematically dismantle his enemies.
But there was another option—one that was simpler, more direct, and brutally efficient.
Without hesitation, Batman spun on his heel, smashing a nearby window with a swift kick, and leaped out onto the lawn outside. The infected couple, driven by their frenzied state, immediately followed, crashing through the shattered glass and charging after him with blind rage.
As soon as they reached the lawn, Batman crouched low, planting his fist into the ground with a powerful strike. A smoke bomb exploded from his gauntlet with a loud bang, enveloping the area in a thick, impenetrable fog. The dark cloud swallowed the surroundings, obscuring everything in a dense veil.
The couple charged through the smoke, their eyes wild as they searched for their prey. But the lawn was empty—at least, it appeared to be.
Ferb's instinct kicked in, and he suddenly looked upward. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the figure standing high above them on the roof—
—A knight clad in pure white, standing tall and unyielding, his pristine cloak billowing in the night wind. The bright full moon illuminated him from behind, casting his silhouette in stark contrast against the inky sky.
It was Moon Knight, the form of Mark Spector.
The knight's white cloak unfurled like the wings of a crescent moon. With a swift, graceful motion, Moon Knight glided down from the roof, his legs together as he delivered a powerful kick to Ferb's chest. The impact was devastating—Ferb's massive body was lifted off the ground and sent flying backward, crashing into the earth like a fallen titan.
Chloé screamed—a high-pitched, animalistic shriek that cut through the night. She sprang forward, her clawed hands slashing through the air. Moon Knight moved with effortless precision, catching her wrist in midair, his grip like iron. With a fluid motion, he twisted her arm and drove a knee into her abdomen. The force of the blow sent her hurtling backward, her body collapsing into the flower beds that lined the lawn.
"No... You can't... You won't break us apart... No one... No one!" Ferb cried out, his voice a mix of desperation and rage as he struggled to his feet.
He stumbled forward, mumbling incoherently as he swung a powerful fist at Moon Knight. But Moon Knight was more than a match for him. He caught Ferb's fist with one hand, his grip unyielding. From the palm of Moon Knight's hand, a shockwave of energy exploded, sending ripples through the air. The sheer force of it caused his white cloak to billow like a banner in a storm, but Moon Knight himself remained unmoved, as solid and unyielding as a mountain.
With a swift motion, Moon Knight deflected Ferb's next attack and struck him in the abdomen with a backhand punch. Ferb's body convulsed as he was lifted off his feet, a geyser of blood erupting from his mouth.
"No... You can't take her... No one can... My family... Our..." Ferb gasped, his words becoming weaker with each breath.
"Who is this 'she' you're talking about, Ferb?" Moon Knight demanded, his voice cold and commanding as he stepped closer. "Is she your child? What happened?"
"Our child... Yes... No one can take her... Our child..." Ferb's voice was fading, his strength draining as the infection ravaged his body from the inside out. He tried to push himself up one last time, his hands trembling with the effort, but the toll was too great. His body finally gave out, collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud. The life that had been twisted and corrupted by the infection ebbed away, leaving behind only a broken shell of the man he once was.
Chloé, too, lay motionless in the flower bed, her wild eyes staring blankly into the night sky. The twisted, manic energy that had driven her was gone, leaving her body lifeless and still.
Charlie, controlling Moon Knight, exhaled slowly, the tension in his muscles releasing as the immediate threat dissipated. The couple had been formidable in their infected state, but they were no match for the relentless precision and power of Moon Knight. With the danger neutralized, he knew he had to return to the task at hand.
Switching back to Batman's form after the cooldown period, Charlie began to methodically extract DNA samples from the house. The scene was one of eerie silence now, broken only by the occasional creak of the house settling or the distant sounds of the city. The aftermath of the fight left the house in disarray—broken furniture, shattered glass, and the faint scent of smoke and blood lingering in the air.
Batman moved through the house with purposeful efficiency, collecting samples from the children's cups, toothbrushes, and combs he had identified earlier. Each sample was carefully stored and prepared for analysis. As he worked, the bat computer within his suit began processing the data, comparing the DNA against the extensive databases of the Ninth Division.
The minutes ticked by as Batman finished his work, his mind focused on unraveling the mystery of the child the couple had mentioned in their final moments. Who was she? And how did she connect to the horrific transformation that had overtaken the couple?
As Batman finished uploading the samples and began to analyze the data, the results started to come in. But before he could delve into the findings, a sudden, sharp ping echoed through his HUD, drawing his attention to the map display.
A large, pulsating exclamation mark had appeared on the map, marking a location not far from Batman's current position. Unlike the usual task markers, this one was bright red, oversized, and pulsing with an ominous rhythm. It was a clear sign of something urgent—something that demanded immediate attention.
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