Chapter 3: A Dark Night in Gotham
DC universe (Earth-2609th)
1993, Gotham City
The night had settled over Gotham City like a shroud, the darkness thick and impenetrable, save for the occasional flicker of neon lights and the dim glow of street lamps. Gotham was a city with a reputation—a reputation that echoed in every alleyway, every shadowed corner, and every whisper of the wind. It was a place where the line between hero and villain was often blurred, and where danger lurked around every corner. This was no Smallville; Gotham was a city that thrived on its own chaos.
As Clark Kent, clad in his newly upgraded lead-lined suit, approached Gotham, he felt the oppressive atmosphere closing in around him. Even from afar, he could see the towering skyscrapers piercing the night sky, their windows glowing like the eyes of a watchful beast. The city was alive, teeming with activity, but it was a different kind of life—dark, mysterious, and filled with an air of foreboding.
Clark had never been to a city like this before, but he had read about it. Gotham was infamous for its crime rate, its corruption, and the seemingly endless parade of villains that called it home. This was the territory of Batman, the Dark Knight, a hero who was as much a part of the shadows as the criminals he fought. Clark couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement mixed with a tinge of nervousness. Tonight, he was going to walk in those shadows—a seven-year-old boy testing his abilities in a world far more dangerous than the one he knew.
As Clark skimmed across the surface of the water, using his "Run Through Water" skill, the SS system chimed in, bringing him back to the task at hand.
[Clark, as we approach Gotham, it's important to review our safety measures. The city is known for its high crime rate, and while your abilities are advanced for your age, caution is paramount.]
Clark nodded inwardly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I know, SS. This isn't Smallville. I need to be careful, stick to the shadows, and avoid drawing attention to myself."
[Correct. Your primary objective is to observe and learn. Engage only if necessary, and always prioritize restraint. The suit is equipped to block 85% of Kryptonite radiation, but it offers limited protection against other threats. Avoid situations that could expose you to significant harm, especially encounters with Gotham's more dangerous criminals.]
Clark took a deep breath, feeling the familiar weight of responsibility settle over him. "Understood. I'll stay out of sight and focus on gathering information. This is about learning, not taking unnecessary risks."
[Additionally, the lead-lined suit's capabilities are best suited for stealth and defense. While it enhances your ability to blend into the environment, it is not invulnerable. Your speed and strength are assets, but they must be used with precision. Remember, the goal is to return home safely and unnoticed.]
The SS system's words were a sobering reminder of the task ahead. Clark knew he was powerful, but he was also aware that he was still just a boy—albeit a boy with the potential to become something much greater. Gotham was a proving ground, a place where he could test his limits, but it was also a place where one wrong move could lead to disaster.
As he neared the city, the skyline grew larger, the buildings looming like silent sentinels. Clark slowed his pace, the sound of his footsteps on the water fading as he reached the edge of Gotham's harbor. He took a moment to steady himself, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and anxiety.
"Alright, Gotham," he thought, his determination solidifying. "Let's see what you've got."
---
Clark crept through the darkened alleys of Gotham, his senses heightened and his heart pounding with anticipation. This was it—his first real foray into crime-fighting. He could feel the city's pulse, the energy of a place that never slept, where danger was just around every corner. As the Dark Knight Superboy, he was ready to prove himself. Or at least, that was the plan.
He kept to the shadows, just as the SS system had advised, his lead-lined suit blending into the darkness. The city was eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that only made the smallest sounds—like a distant shout or the clink of a bottle—seem even louder. Clark moved quickly, his super speed allowing him to cover ground silently, but he was also careful not to move too fast. He didn't want to draw attention to himself, especially in a place as dangerous as Gotham.
Suddenly, he heard it—the unmistakable sound of trouble. From down the alley, the sound of a struggle reached his ears. Clark's heart raced. This was his chance.
He darted toward the sound, his mind racing with the lessons he had learned. Stay calm, assess the situation, and only intervene if absolutely necessary. But as he rounded the corner, he realized that he was about to face his first real challenge.
A gang of three thugs was cornering a young man against the wall, their intentions clear. The young man looked terrified, clutching a small bag to his chest as he tried to back away. Clark knew he had to act fast, but he also knew that this was not going to be as easy as he had imagined.
"Alright, SS," Clark thought quickly, "any advice?"
[Focus on disarming the attackers without causing unnecessary harm. You must control your strength carefully. Remember, your primary objective is to protect the victim while ensuring minimal collateral damage.]
Clark nodded, taking a deep breath. He was ready. Or so he thought.
Without another second to lose, Clark sprang into action. He dashed forward, faster than the thugs could react, and aimed a punch at the first one. Unfortunately, he underestimated his speed and strength—his fist connected with the thug's shoulder, sending the man flying into a stack of garbage cans with a loud crash.
CLANG!
"Oops," Clark muttered to himself, wincing as the sound echoed down the alley.
The remaining two thugs stared in shock, clearly not expecting their friend to be launched like a human cannonball. But they quickly recovered and charged at Clark, brandishing knives. Clark braced himself, remembering what the SS had said about controlling his power.
He dodged the first thug's swing, sidestepping with super speed, but as he tried to grab the second thug's arm to disarm him.
CRACK!
"AHHHHHH!!"
Clark accidentally squeezed too hard. The thug yelped in pain, dropping the knife as his arm was twisted at an awkward angle.
"Sorry!" Clark blurted out, genuinely apologetic, before realizing that apologizing probably wasn't what superheroes usually did.
The third thug, now the only one left standing, seemed to realize that he was outmatched. He took one look at his buddies—one groaning in a pile of trash, the other cradling his injured arm—and decided that maybe tonight wasn't his night. He turned and bolted down the alley, disappearing into the darkness.
Clark let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He had done it—sort of. The young man who had been cornered was now looking at him with a mix of awe and confusion, clearly unsure of what had just happened.
"You… you saved me!" the man stammered, clutching his bag even tighter. "Who… what are you?"
Clark paused, realizing he hadn't thought this far ahead. He couldn't exactly say, "Hi, I'm a seven-year-old superhero in training." So instead, he just gave the man a reassuring smile and said, "Just someone who wants to help. You should get out of here, it's not safe."
The man nodded quickly, still shaken, and hurried off, leaving Clark alone in the alley with two groaning thugs and a lot of questions.
"Well, that could've gone better," Clark thought, feeling a bit deflated.
[Indeed,]
the SS system chimed in, its tone a mix of assessment and advice.
[Your approach was effective but lacked precision. Your strength needs further refinement to avoid causing unnecessary injury. Additionally, your timing was slightly off—you reacted quickly, but your control over your movements needs improvement to avoid unintended consequences.]
Clark sighed, looking at the mess he had inadvertently created. "Yeah, I kinda figured that out when I sent that guy flying."
[Nevertheless, your intentions were commendable, and you successfully prevented harm to the victim. The key takeaway is the importance of balance—balancing your strength with control, and your speed with precision. With continued practice, you will improve.]
Clark couldn't help but smile a little at the SS system's attempt to put a positive spin on things. It had been a messy first outing, but he had learned a lot. And most importantly, no one was seriously hurt—except maybe that first thug, but he'd be okay eventually.
Determined not to let the night end on a sour note, Clark decided to keep patrolling. He knew there was still much to learn, and the only way to get better was through practice. The SS system silently agreed, offering guidance and monitoring his every move as he continued to navigate the shadowy streets of Gotham.
---
For the next three hours, Clark patrolled the city, fully alert and focused. He encountered five more situations that demanded his intervention, each one slightly more difficult than the last. But with each challenge, he improved. He refined his strength, adjusted his speed, and approached every scenario with a calm, strategic mindset.
The second fight was smoother—Clark managed to disarm two muggers without sending them flying. He delivered precise, controlled blows that left them stunned but unharmed, and they quickly surrendered without further resistance.
The third encounter involved a carjacking, and Clark was able to stop the thief by simply lifting the car off the ground and setting it down a few feet away, making it impossible for the thief to drive off. The carjacker, realizing he was outmatched, fled without further incident.
By the fourth encounter, Clark was starting to feel more confident. This time, he faced a group of vandals trying to break into a storefront. He used his speed to disarm them and his strength to subdue them without causing any serious injuries. It was the first time that night that everything went exactly according to plan.
The fifth and final crime involved a small-time crook trying to rob a convenience store. Clark's intervention was quick and effective; he used a burst of super speed to snatch the gun from the crook's hand before the man even realized what was happening. The store owner thanked him profusely, but Clark, mindful of staying under the radar, simply nodded and disappeared into the night before anyone could get a good look at him.
As the clock neared midnight, Clark decided it was time to call it a night. He was tired, both mentally and physically, but a quiet satisfaction bubbled within him. He was learning, adapting, and improving with each encounter. The Dark Knight Superboy was slowly but surely carving out his place in Gotham's shadows.
Just as he was about to head back to Smallville, something caught his attention. As he passed by the alley behind a large theatre, he noticed something that made his heart skip a beat. There, in the dimly lit alley, a man and a woman were being confronted by a mugger. The man had his hands raised, trying to shield the woman and a small boy who stood beside them. The mugger's hand was shaking as he pointed a gun at the family, demanding their valuables.
Clark's eyes narrowed as he spotted another crime in progress down a dimly lit alley. He'd already handled five crimes tonight, so this was just going to be one more notch in his belt. A man, a woman, and a small boy were cornered by a mugger with a gun. Nothing he hadn't seen before. The family looked terrified, and Clark knew he needed to act fast.
"Another one?" Clark thought, feeling a surge of determination. He had dealt with similar situations all night, and this one was no different—or so he assumed. Without a second thought, he dashed forward, ready to put an end to this mugger's night.
[Clark, wait! That family—] the SS system suddenly piped up, its tone more urgent than usual.
But before the SS could finish its sentence, Clark had already sprung into action. He dashed forward, a blur of speed, and with one swift motion, he disarmed the mugger, sending the gun flying out of his hand. A quick flick of his wrist, and the mugger was down, groaning on the ground with his arms tied behind his back using some old rope that Clark had found nearby.
Clark dusted off his hands, feeling pretty good about himself. "Another job well done," he muttered. But just as he was about to leave, the SS system chimed in urgently.
[Clark, listen. That family—]
Clark didn't even let the system finish. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Get them out of the alley and make sure they're safe. I got this, SS."
But then he caught sight of the family's faces. The man's expensive suit, the woman's pearl necklace, the boy's wide, fearful eyes… Suddenly, it clicked.
"Wait a second," Clark thought, his brain catching up with what his eyes were seeing. "Is that…?"
[Clark, I was trying to warn you! That's the Wayne family!]
the SS system finally managed to say, its voice laced with a mix of exasperation and panic.
Clark froze. "Wait… THE Wayne family? Like, the Waynes who… Oh no."
A heavy silence fell over the alley. The Waynes stared at Clark, their expressions a mix of shock, confusion, and gratitude. Clark stood there, suddenly unsure of what to do or say. He had just stopped the event that was supposed to lead to the creation of Batman. And now he was standing in front of Thomas, Martha, and little Bruce Wayne, feeling like the biggest goof in all of Gotham.
The mugger, still groaning on the ground, added to the awkward atmosphere with his occasional "Ow, my back…" but no one paid him any attention.
Clark rubbed the back of his neck, trying to think of something—anything—to say that wouldn't make the situation even more awkward.
"Uh… you're welcome?" he offered weakly, immediately cringing at how lame that sounded.
Thomas Wayne, looking very much like a deer caught in headlights, nodded slowly. "Thank you… um… whoever you are."
"Yeah, no problem, Mr. Wayne, sir," Clark replied, his voice going up an octave in his nervousness. "Just doing my job, you know, stopping crimes and, uh… saving lives. Yep. That's what I do."
Martha Wayne, still holding Bruce close, gave Clark a bewildered smile. "Well, you certainly did that. We're very grateful… uh, what should we call you?"
Clark blinked, realizing he hadn't thought of a name. "Oh, I'm, uh… Dark Kn— I mean, Super— I'm… just a guy! You know, a guy who stops crime. That's me!"
The silence that followed was almost deafening. Even Bruce, who had been staring at Clark with wide eyes, seemed to sense how weird the whole situation was.
[Clark, we need to leave—now!]
The SS system advised, trying to break the awkward tension.
[This timeline is already altered. The longer we stay, the more complicated things could get.]
Clark nodded a little too enthusiastically. "Right, yes, I should, uh, go. You folks take care now, okay? Stay safe, and, um, don't go walking in dark alleys at night! It's dangerous!"
Before the Waynes could say another word, Clark zipped off into the night, leaving the family standing there in stunned silence. He didn't stop until he was miles away, his heart pounding in his chest.
"SS, what did I just do?" Clark finally asked, his voice a mix of panic and disbelief.
[You may have just changed the course of Gotham's history,]
The SS system replied, sounding equally stunned.
[But let's not dwell on that right now. We should focus on getting back to Smallville and reassessing our approach to crime-fighting. Preferably one that doesn't involve altering major timelines.]
Clark groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Well, tonight sure didn't go as planned."
[No, it did not. But on the bright side, you did stop a crime, and the Waynes are safe. So… progress?]
Clark couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. "Yeah, I guess that's something. But man, I really need to work on this whole superhero thing."
With that, Clark sped off into the night, his mind racing as fast as his feet. He had a lot to think about, but one thing was for sure—being a superhero was way more complicated than it looked in the comics.