That's the name of his soul, KOTC for short.
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Alone in his room at Wayne Manor, Jorno lounged on his bed, his expression as blank as ever. Over the past few weeks, he had grown used to the absurdity of the technology surrounding him—Wayne Tech had a flair for the ridiculous—but even this was strange.
A screen appeared, seemingly from within the bedframe, hovering above him. Jorno blinked, his curiosity piqued. The screen flickered to life, and after a brief pause, bold letters formed: "Hello."
Jorno sat up, intrigued by the sudden greeting. "Hello," he responded, though his tone was casual, not quite matching the situation. There was a strange silence. Then, after a brief delay, the screen changed: "Why are you searching for me?"
Jorno frowned. "Me? If I bothered you, I'm sorry." His voice was soft, unassuming.
The screen stayed blank for several moments, as if processing his response. Finally, new words appeared: "You are not Bruce Wayne, nor Alfred Pennyworth, despite that, you are there. Who are you?"
It can hear me? Jorno thought. Weird... but convenient.
He leaned back against the pillows, thinking about how to respond. "Jorno Jovanna. Nice to meet you," he said plainly, still unsure what—or who—he was dealing with.
Another long silence followed. Jorno was just about ready to dismiss the conversation entirely when the screen flickered back to life: "I see. You are quite hidden. Regardless, I do not wish to join you. But I warn you, I've received a signal—it's rather dangerous."
Jorno's eyes narrowed. A signal? Before he could ask for clarification, the screen changed again, displaying a 3D model of something grotesque: a winged creature with leathery skin, glowing red eyes, and sharp talons. The text below identified it as a Parademon.
"Man… talk about terrifying," Jorno muttered, though he couldn't help the odd smile that crept onto his face. Something about this threat excited him.
"Yes. Terrifying. These are the foot soldiers, and they self-destruct upon death. While I detest working with you, I shall assist."
Jorno absorbed this information, glancing at the model of the creature. Self-destructing soldiers? He didn't need to be told twice—this was serious.
I should tell Mr. Wayne about this, he thought.
The screen flickered one last time. "Goodbye for now."
And just like that, it retracted back into the bed, vanishing without a trace. Jorno stared at the empty space where it had been, his mind churning. If what the screen had said was real, there would be work to do soon.
The Next Day: Trust in the Shadows
A day later, deep in the basement of Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth stood side by side, watching as Jorno casually munched on a bag of candy corn, seemingly unfazed by the grand spectacle around him.
"Are you certain you want to do this, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, his tone laced with concern. "This... trust maneuver... is it wise?"
Bruce glanced over at Alfred. He could see the unease in his old friend's eyes, but Bruce had already made up his mind. "It'll be fine. Besides, if we want to build trust, we need to show initiative. He needs to see that we're willing to work together."
As he spoke, the sound of mechanical movement filled the cavernous space. The hangar doors rose slowly, revealing the sleek, black form of the Batwing—its long, bat-shaped frame a symbol of both fear and power.
Jorno's eyes widened slightly, betraying a hint of awe. "Whoa..." he whispered under his breath. He wasn't particularly fond of the color black, but even he couldn't deny how impressive the jet looked. It's like something out of a dream.
"It's even cooler inside," Bruce said, climbing into the cockpit with an ease born of habit. He gestured for Jorno to follow, and after a moment, the boy joined him, still clutching his candy corn.
The Batwing's engines roared to life as the craft lifted off, gliding out of the Batcave and soaring through the hidden exit beneath a waterfall. Bruce set the jet to auto-pilot, leaning back as the city of Gotham became a distant blur beneath them.
Alfred remained in the Batcave, watching the jet's ascent on the monitors. Something about this felt... different. Bruce often went out on missions, but now? Now he had Jorno with him, and that changed things. There was a certain idealism creeping back into Bruce's actions—something Alfred hadn't seen in a long time.
On the Flight
Inside the cockpit, Bruce's thoughts drifted back to the previous night. The gala had been uneventful—just another parade of Gotham's elite, none of whom held any importance to his mission. Even Jim Gordon, Bruce's trusted confidant, had been too preoccupied to attend, busy with personal matters involving his daughter.
But Bruce hadn't gone to the gala for them.
The real reason for his attendance had been a simple note, left for him in the most subtle of ways. He'd checked the surveillance footage and confirmed his suspicions: Diana Prince had been there, albeit briefly, and she had left the note behind—making sure to stare directly at the camera before leaving.
The note contained strange coordinates. Numbers that led not to Gotham, but to the ocean. Bruce had spent the entire night decoding the message, knowing that Diana wouldn't leave such information without reason.
As the Batwing soared toward their destination, Bruce replayed his theories in his mind. He'd pieced together Diana's identity—Wonder Woman—from her brief visits to Gotham and the few clues she had left behind. If his guess was correct, she wasn't just an Amazon warrior—she was one of the most powerful beings alive.
And he needed her.
But Bruce also knew that as a man, there were certain places he could not go—certain realms and cultures that wouldn't accept him. That's where Jorno came in. He might not fully understand it yet, but bringing Jorno along wasn't just a tactical decision; it was a necessity. Diana might recognize his importance, and besides, this was far more humane than the alternative—studying or weaponizing the boy's abilities without his knowledge.
The Batwing cruised over the ocean, the coordinates from Diana's note leading them closer to an unknown location.
"Why are we going out here?" Jorno asked, breaking the silence, his voice calm yet curious.
Bruce glanced over at him, his mind still swirling with thoughts of Diana, the Parademons, and the looming invasion. "There's someone I need to meet. Someone who might help us."
Jorno nodded, munching on his candy corn as he stared out at the vast ocean below. "Cool," was all he said.
Bruce's eyes flicked back to the horizon. This was the beginning of something larger, something that would change everything. And as much as he hated to admit ______________________________________________________________________
[Auther: So, here I'm moving the story fast, why? Because I've already given Jorno nearly 3 weeks to adapt, he needs some...character development.