Link ???
Agents ???
The sight unfolding before them defied all logic. Batman's movements, his abilities—everything about him seemed far too advanced for the era of humanity they were living in. Whether friend or foe, every soul in the room was utterly paralyzed by the mind-bending spectacle playing out in front of them.
Just as Link's tentacle was inches away from delivering the final, lethal blow to Batman's head, an incredible shift occurred. Batman's entire form suddenly distorted. His outline blurred, his body pixelated as though he had become a glitch in reality. The once-solid figure of the Dark Knight now appeared fractured and indistinct, like a mosaic or a scrambled digital image. His silhouette flickered, making it impossible to focus on any one part of him.
The deadly tentacle passed right through him—no resistance, no impact—before slamming violently into the steel-reinforced alloy wall behind him with an ear-shattering bang.
The force of the impact cracked the wall, sending debris and sparks flying. But Batman remained untouched. It was as if he wasn't even there, his entire form ghostly and intangible, leaving the onlookers—both the madhouse's agents and Link—stunned.
For a moment, it seemed as though Batman had transformed into a hologram, an image with no substance. But then, in the blink of an eye, reality snapped back into place. Batman became fully visible again, his body solidifying right before their eyes. Without hesitation, he swung his fist, the gauntlet sparking with electrical energy as it tore through the air.
The punch landed squarely on Link's face with a sound like thunder. The sheer force of the strike sent Link staggering back several feet, his body thrown off balance by the overwhelming power behind the blow. Sparks exploded around them as Batman's electrified gauntlet connected with Link's skull, the crackle of energy reverberating through the chamber.
Link was stunned. He shook his head, trying to regain his bearings. The madness of the situation made him question everything he knew about his opponent. Could this really be the same Batman he'd faced before? The Batman who was once limited by human technology, human strength, and human abilities? The figure standing before him now seemed beyond human.
The madhouse agents, too, couldn't make sense of it. Every agent in the room was frozen in shock, struggling to process what they had just witnessed. This wasn't the tactical genius they had come to fear. This was something otherworldly. Something far beyond the realm of ordinary science.
For his entire life, Link had believed that Batman's power lay in his intellect and his gadgets, in his ability to outthink and outmaneuver his enemies. But now? Now, he wasn't so sure. This power—this ability to become intangible, to phase through objects as if he were made of smoke—was something entirely new.
If, in the past, Link had suspected that Batman might have dabbled in some form of esoteric martial art or ancient technique, what he had just seen threw those notions out the window. Batman's power could no longer be explained through any form of conventional knowledge.
The truth was more terrifying than any martial arts secret: Batman's latest upgrade was rooted in cutting-edge science. The suit he was wearing was called the "Alan System," a technological marvel named after the legendary speedster, Barry Allen—the Flash.
As many in the DC Universe knew, Barry Allen was one of the most powerful beings to ever live, his abilities tied to the mysterious Speed Force. The Flash's primary power was his speed, but that simple attribute had been honed and perfected over years to grant him a myriad of abilities. One of the most famous of these was the ability to vibrate his atoms so quickly that he could phase through solid objects. By oscillating the molecules of his own body, the Flash could pass through walls, evade attacks, and even become immune to physical damage altogether.
Batman, ever the resourceful strategist, had stolen this very concept from his old ally. But in true Batman fashion, he had refined it, modified it for his own use. The Alan System in Batman's armor allowed him to achieve the same effect, enabling him to pass through matter, becoming untouchable. However, unlike the Flash, Batman didn't have super-speed. The Alan System worked through a different principle: it allowed Batman to blur the atomic structure of his entire body, rendering him temporarily intangible. While it wasn't as fast or versatile as the Flash's power, it was still a devastating tool in combat.
For a moment, Link's mind raced. He tried to wrap his head around what he had just seen. But before he could fully process the situation, Batman launched into another series of strikes, his fists crackling with energy. Each punch landed with the precision and force of a trained warrior, driving Link further and further back.
Link's tentacles flailed wildly in response, lashing out in an attempt to regain control. But Batman was relentless, dodging the attacks with ease, his body phasing in and out of reality with each move. It was as if Link was fighting a shadow, something that couldn't be touched.
With each strike, Link could feel his armor cracking, the once-impenetrable shell he relied on beginning to shatter. As he stumbled back, trying to recover, he glanced down at his chest—and his eyes widened in horror.
Two small, circular devices had been attached to his armor. Each one bore the unmistakable bat symbol, glowing ominously against his chest.
Boom!
The explosions were deafening. The twin devices detonated in a brilliant flash of light and heat, sending Link flying backward. His body careened through the air, slamming into the far wall with a bone-crunching impact. His armor, once gleaming and pristine, now hung in shattered fragments around his body, the pieces falling away to reveal burned and bloody flesh beneath.
His once formidable presence was reduced to a broken, charred husk, his body barely able to stand. Burned black from the explosions, Link forced himself to rise, defiant even in the face of inevitable defeat.
The room was silent, everyone watching the final moments of the battle unfold. But Link wasn't finished. As his body trembled, several new tentacles sprouted from his back, each one writhing and coiling as though preparing for a final, desperate attack.
Batman stood ready, his cape billowing dramatically around him, as he prepared to deliver the finishing blow.
But then, something unexpected happened.
A quiet, almost imperceptible sound cut through the air—the sound of flesh tearing.
Everyone's eyes widened in disbelief.
The tentacles, rather than attacking Batman, had turned inward. They had coiled together into a single, spear-like point and pierced through Link's own chest, impaling his heart.
For a moment, the world seemed to freeze.
Batman paused, clearly taken aback by the unexpected turn of events.
Charlie ???
Confusion washed over the room. Link had impaled himself. His own tentacles, once his greatest weapons, had been turned against him. He had taken his own life.
Though Link was clearly at the end of his strength, no one had expected this. It was a shocking twist, even to those who knew the battle had already been lost. The tentacles protruding from his back now jutted out from his chest like grotesque spears, blood pooling around the wounds as Link slumped to his knees.
His breathing was ragged, shallow. Blood trickled from his mouth, staining his lips as he turned his gaze toward Batman. His voice, weak and strained, carried a venomous finality.
"This time... you've won. But don't celebrate too soon... your victory is temporary."
He coughed, blood speckling the floor as he turned his attention toward the group of agents standing nearby.
"And you... you don't understand anything... nothing at all..."
A hollow, dry laugh escaped him as he rasped his final words.
"Everything…"
His voice faded, and with one last breath, Link collapsed. His lifeless body remained kneeling on the floor, his head tilted to one side, his eyes staring blankly into the distance.
The room fell into an oppressive silence.
Batman, his hands retracted into the folds of his cloak, stood like a dark sentinel in the center of the carnage. His armor, mostly hidden beneath the wide cape, now appeared even more mysterious and imposing. The agents watched him, awestruck by the display they had just witnessed.
Without a word, Batman turned and strode toward the exit, his long, sweeping steps filled with an air of authority. His presence was so commanding that the agents instinctively parted to give him room, stepping aside as though they were guards in a grand hall. Anyone watching might have thought Batman was walking away from his own domain rather than leaving the madhouse.
As Batman neared the door, one of the younger agents, finally breaking free from his daze, raised his voice.
"Stop!" he called out, his gun trained on Batman's back.
The moment the words left his mouth, Batman halted. Slowly, he turned just enough for the dark outline of his bat-shaped helmet to become visible, casting a shadow over half his face. His gaze, though unseen, radiated a cold intensity that sent a chill through the room.
The young agent faltered. The weight of Batman's silent stare was unbearable.
"Uh... it's okay," the agent stammered, lowering his weapon nervously. "You've... worked hard."
Batman's gaze lingered for a brief moment longer before he turned and continued his exit, his cape swirling behind him as he disappeared through the door.
The young agent letout a long, shaky breath as Batman vanished from sight. His hands trembled slightly as he lowered his gun completely. The tension in the room had been so thick, it felt like the very air had been sucked out of the space while Batman was present. Now, with him gone, a collective exhale passed through the remaining agents, as if they had all just survived a near-death experience.
The young agent, still reeling from the encounter, wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. His partner, standing nearby, gave him a look of sheer amazement, a mix of disbelief and admiration. It was as if his eyes were saying, You really just did that? You challenged the Bat?
But there wasn't much time for reflection. As soon as Batman left, the reality of the battlefield sank back in. The room was littered with debris, scorch marks from the explosions, and the broken, bleeding body of Link, slumped over in defeat. The agents were left to pick up the pieces of the chaos Batman had just left behind.
---
Meanwhile, on the other side of the complex, Melanie was finally starting to accept that her mission had failed spectacularly. Her original plan had been simple enough—steal the data, escape undetected, and leave the scene with no trace. But with the events unfolding around her, it was clear things had gone terribly wrong. Her teammates were either eliminated or had abandoned her, and now the only option left was to flee before it got worse.
Unfortunately for her, she wasn't alone. Ivan stood between her and any hope of escape, his eyes cold and unyielding. Melanie knew that while her abilities were primarily suited for transformation, not direct combat, she couldn't back down now. She had to make one last stand or risk capture—or worse.
Summoning her Phantom, Melanie launched the spectral figure forward in a desperate attack, hoping to buy herself enough time to slip away. The translucent form of her Phantom flew through the air, aiming directly at Ivan. But just as it was about to connect, something white and swift moved into its path.
A blur of motion, faster than Melanie could track.
Spider-Gwen—graceful, agile, and deadly—descended from above, her white suit shimmering under the faint lighting of the complex. With a perfectly timed kick, Gwen smashed Melanie's Phantom into the wall, sending a shockwave of force that cracked the concrete where it landed. The impact was brutal, the kind of force that left a lasting impression.
Before Melanie could even react, Gwen followed up with a series of fluid, acrobatic movements. She twisted mid-air, landing in a classic Spider-Man pose, her web-shooters at the ready. Two perfectly aimed streams of webbing shot out from Gwen's wrists, wrapping around Melanie and her Phantom, binding them tightly together. The silk-like threads, though thin, were stronger than steel, leaving Melanie completely immobilized.
Melanie struggled against the webbing, panic flashing in her eyes. She strained against the sticky bonds, but they wouldn't budge. Gwen's webs were unbreakable under normal circumstances, and Melanie didn't have the raw strength needed to escape.
As Melanie's desperate attempts to break free continued, Ivan took slow, measured steps toward her. The cold click of his boots on the concrete floor echoed through the room. His expression was impassive, his face a mask of indifference as he lit a cigarette, the small flame flickering briefly in the darkness.
With deliberate care, Ivan raised his shotgun, the barrel aimed directly at Melanie's head.
Melanie's eyes widened with fear, but she tried to keep her voice steady, attempting to appeal to any last shred of humanity within Ivan. "Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked, her tone softening, her voice almost pleading. "We've worked together before, Ivan. You know how much I've helped you... how much we've been through together. You don't have to do this. We can still—"
A deafening boom cut her off mid-sentence.
The blast from Ivan's shotgun echoed through the chamber like thunder. The force of the shot was so immense that it practically liquefied Melanie's head, spraying blood, bone, and brain matter across the floor in a gruesome display. Her lifeless body, still bound in Gwen's webs, sagged limp, the once-dangerous criminal now nothing more than a headless corpse.
Ivan exhaled slowly, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips as he lowered the shotgun. His cold eyes glanced down at Melanie's shattered skull, taking in the carnage without a trace of emotion. He crouched down briefly, inspecting the remains, then muttered under his breath.
"Not so pretty now, huh?"
[TL Note - it seems the service Division never removed the suit from Link's body... A bit unprofessional, but whatever]
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