Soren knew that Gotham was this guy's city, and Falcone was one of his well-known early foes.
But still, this was too much.
Soren had only just arrived in Gotham City to try his skills and catch a fugitive, and now, he had to deal with this famous figure, Gotham's own Dark Knight—
Batman.
Soren, recalling the clumsy stumble earlier, silently added another note to himself.
—A rookie Batman.
Soren could feel his heart beating faster and faster in his chest.
Without thinking, he pressed a hand to his chest, his eyes glued to Batman.
Come on, even with a tiny bit of failure, this was still Batman—the coolest, most awesome, most awe-inspiring Batman in the world!
Soren had admired him for as long as he could remember.
He had cheered countless times when Batman defeated powerful enemies and often dreamed of himself riding in the Batmobile, speeding through Gotham City's streets with the Dark Knight by his side...
But, tripping over his own stuff?
No way!
The black shadow with pointed bat ears pulled out a grappling hook, expertly twirling the line before tossing it up.
The hook clanged against the wall with a crisp sound.
Then, the rope slipped right off and fell limply to the ground.
Soren: ...Pfft.
Okay, that was kind of awkward.
The Batman in front of him was quite different from the nearly perfect, all-knowing hero Soren had imagined.
Soren wanted to laugh but also felt a strange sense of respect for what this moment truly represented.
Out of all the superheroes, Batman was just a regular human being.
He was also the first person, as a mere mortal, to stand shoulder to shoulder with gods.
The strength he would later become known for—his vast knowledge, his seemingly limitless abilities—all came from his early days fighting the darkness alone.
Every scar, every broken bone, every bruise that never fully healed told the story of his journey.
This warrior, who stood at the peak of human willpower, was forged through constant life-and-death battles.
Soren thought he finally understood why Batman eventually upgraded to the grappling gun.
The man in the bat suit didn't give up after that small failure.
He immediately picked up the grappling hook and threw it again.
This time, the hook flew through the air, over the wall, and securely latched onto the rooftop.
He did it!
Soren clenched his fists in excitement, watching Batman's every move, silently cheering him on.
Come on, you've got this!
You're Batman!
Because you are Batman!
Batman never gives up!
...
The long-time crime boss had gray streaks in his hair and wore a perfectly pressed three-piece suit with spotless leather shoes.
The dark circles framed his eyes, and his pupils were black, giving off a dangerous, gloomy vibe.
Every wrinkle on his face seemed to be carved by years of bitterness and regret.
The Roman, as he was called, had a cold, icy smile on his lips, with an unlit cigar between his fingers.
He walked toward the young Batman, the sharp clicks of his shoes echoing off the concrete floor in the silence.
*Click, click.*
The Roman stopped in front of Batman, his breath like that of some venomous reptile.
"I heard there was some freak in a costume poking around in our business," he said, half-smirking as he looked Batman up and down, his eyes full of scorn, "See, being cautious never hurts. Though, I don't think some weirdo in a black suit can really do anything to me."
*Click.*
As his words faded, the sound of guns being loaded filled the air.
Dozens of barrels were now pointed at Batman, who stood at the center of the group.
But Batman didn't flinch.
He simply stared into the Roman's bloodshot eyes, completely calm.
In a rough, deep voice, like he was delivering a death sentence, Batman said slowly, "The Roman Empire will fall tonight."
The Roman burst into laughter, his face wrinkling even more, like a nest of snakes.
He waved a hand dismissively and said, "At least you're brave…"
Now!
The loud crash of shattering glass grabbed everyone's attention at once.
The crowd looked up toward the sound, only to see a six-winged, white figure break through the window.
Its six massive wings spread out behind it, and a pure, radiant light illuminated the entire warehouse.
This creature was beyond anything human imagination could grasp: its entire body was cloaked in white, with a helmet bearing a cross-shaped symbol covering most of its face.
It's long, golden-brown hair flowed down to its waist with every strand of its hair glowing in the light.
The six white wings were like giant claws, lifting the tall, human-like figure in the middle of the group.
A blue silk wrap draped from its left arm to its right leg, like a burial shroud for a holy being or an oath of defiance.
It carried an otherworldly, almost sacrificial beauty that left everyone in awe.
For a moment, no one dared to make a sound.
Everyone held their breath, afraid to disturb this rare, divine sight.
Some of the gang members stood frozen, staring in shock.
A few for them who are trembling with fear, could barely hold their guns steady.
The white figure held a golden staff and flapped its wings.
In the vast warehouse, the only sound was the soft flutter of feathers.
While the gang members were momentarily distracted, Batman immediately pressed a button on his belt—the latest gadget from Wayne Enterprises.
Moving quickly and with precision, he delivered a brutal elbow strike to the nearest person's neck.
The crowd snapped back to reality!
The henchmen opened fire, bullets flying toward Batman, who moved so swiftly that they all missed!
Chaos broke out, with pained screams and curses filling the air.
Batman weaved through the crowd, moving so fast he was almost a blur.
He dodged bullets while delivering punches and kicks to the gunmen, leaving them groaning in pain.
Could a human even move this fast?