The Talons of the Court of Owls have no real sense of self. They are brainwashed and cryogenically frozen warriors, thawed and sent out on missions when the Court requires it—usually for assassination tasks. Once the mission is complete, they are refrozen in the labyrinthine depths of the Court's base, awaiting their next call to action.
The Talon facing Michael (Slade) right now could easily be centuries old, but that didn't make her any less dangerous. These assassins were enhanced, stronger than even the League of Assassins' ninjas, and during their indoctrination, they were taught deadly hand-to-hand combat techniques passed down through generations. Every Talon was a master of close-quarters combat, specializing in the use of blades.
Given that the Court of Owls was made up of Gotham's elite, these Talons also had no burdensome sense of honor. All their weapons were coated in lethal poison, designed to kill instantly.
For a normal person, a Talon's attack was nearly impossible to survive.
They were also masters of disguise, capable of imitating anyone's mannerisms and voice, making them even more deadly. But in their combat-ready Talon mode, they rarely spoke, preferring eerie screeches or the hooting of owls to unsettle their targets.
Their number was kept constant at 100 Talons: 99 standard assassins and one "Zero Talon," the most powerful of all. Every year, new recruits were added to replace the damaged or dead, with children or young adults tricked into joining, subjected to the brainwashing ritual, and trained to continue the Court's dark work.
The Talon facing Michael now seemed to be one of the standard assassins. But if she managed to escape and report back, things would quickly spiral out of control, just as Michael had feared. The Court would know, and worse, so would Barbatos.
He needed to keep her here, force her into a fight, and kill her before she could escape.
Michael had an idea.
"The Court of Owls eats dirt!" he suddenly shouted, flipping both middle fingers at the Talon.
Cindy covered her face in disbelief while the others—Barbara, Vicki, and Pete—looked at each other, utterly baffled by what they had just witnessed.
"Eat… dirt…" Michael's insult echoed through the wrecked cars, bouncing off the metal husks as the wind and rain tried, and failed, to drown out the sound.
The Talon, who had been about to take flight, froze. Slowly, her gaze fell back on him.
As the Court of Owls' mindless tool, the Talons themselves didn't care about insults. But insulting the Court—the aristocrats who ruled from the shadows—triggered something in her conditioning. One of her core directives was to serve and protect the honor of the Court, no matter the cost.
Michael's insult had hit that nerve.
"For the Court!" she screeched, and in an instant, a dark figure hurtled through the air toward Michael, her cloak flapping loudly as she swooped down with lethal intent, moving with the rain like a predator from the sky.
Michael didn't take pride in goading her into the fight—he wouldn't feel at ease until the Talon was dead. He remained fully focused, hyper-aware of every movement.
Whoosh, whoosh!
Two white flashes streaked through the rain, lined with black. Her bladed gauntlets shot toward his neck—standard Talon tactics. Like an owl hunting a mouse, she aimed to snap his neck, just as owls do with their prey before gutting them.
Michael ducked the attack, angling his body so her claws scraped against his twin swords instead. Sparks flared for a brief moment before fading in the rain.
He sidestepped, creating space between them while mentally noting her abilities.
"Sharp claws, goes for the throat and gut. Just like in the comics," he thought, dodging a follow-up strike.
The Talon's hood was designed to cover her entire face, and the round lenses in her mask acted like telescopic lenses. That likely meant her peripheral vision was compromised.
Michael, despite only having one eye, relied on his enhanced memory and combat instincts to fill in the gaps around him. His helmet caused minimal obstruction, giving him an edge. He chose to stay at her side, testing to see if she had any blind spots.
People without long-term plans often fall into short-term danger, he mused. This was his chance to test her weaknesses. If he ever faced multiple Talons, he'd need all the information he could get.
Sure enough, just like an owl, she didn't move her body—she simply turned her head, rotating her neck at an unnatural angle to face him again. Michael logged another mental note.
Everything seemed to slow down in that moment. The rain appeared to fall more leisurely, and the crimson glow of Michael's one eye locked onto the Talon's round lenses as they stared each other down.
Without warning, Michael lunged forward. His twin swords slashed down—one vertically, one horizontally. The Talon flipped back, agilely avoiding both attacks before immediately lunging back at him, this time drawing twin daggers from her waist.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Metal clashed against metal as they traded blows, sparks flying between them. Raindrops were flung into the air with every movement, splashing against the wrecked cars surrounding them.
Despite her agility, Michael could tell that the Talon had a weak lower body. She rarely attacked with her legs, and while her upper body was fast and strong, her footwork was flawed. However, she compensated by using her outfit to glide short distances, moving unpredictably.
Michael continued cataloging her strengths and weaknesses.
"Good weapons. Poison-tipped. Quick movements. But low strength, minimal armor, poor defense."
Switching tactics, Michael pulled out a shotgun and fired at close range. The Talon managed to dodge—she seemed to sense his movements even before he drew his weapon, moving in anticipation of the shot.
Despite the intense fight, Michael had the situation under control. The Talon wasn't as strong as her comic book counterparts. He could have killed her already, but instead, he was using the opportunity to gather intel.
With his combat experience and superior physiology, she had no chance against him. Michael took his time, testing various weapons against her. He even pulled out a grappling hook, using it to briefly duel her mid-air.
After about a minute of intense fighting, Michael had all the information he needed.
Now, there were no more secrets. This Talon—and every other Talon in this world—had no hidden tricks left for him.
The rain intensified, and Michael shoved the Talon away with a forceful kick. She showed no signs of retreating, but her breathing remained steady, like his.
Both were enhanced fighters, able to fight for extended periods without tiring. But Michael had gathered the necessary data. His mind processed every detail, laying out the optimal strategy to end the fight.
"It's over."
Michael drew a knife and stopped dodging her next strike, allowing her dagger to graze his side. In the same motion, he drove his knife into her chest, pushing the blade deep into her heart.
Shhhhiiiiiing!
The sound of her life leaving her body was almost like a balloon deflating.
In one swift motion, Michael twisted the knife and tore it sideways, splitting her heart in two.
Blood gushed out in a crimson arc, spraying into the air like a macabre fountain. Amidst the rain and blood, the Talon's body fell limp, collapsing into the muddy ground with a sickening splash.
Michael glanced down at the white streak left on his side where her poisoned blade had scraped against his armor. It hadn't penetrated the material—everything had gone exactly as calculated.
He sheathed his knife, his eye still focused on the lifeless body before him.
The battle had ended exactly as expected.
Still, there was one final thing to confirm.
Michael crouched over the corpse, watching the wounds intently. After several minutes, he pulled out a grenade, stuffed it into the body's chest cavity, pulled the pin, and walked away without looking back.
BOOM!
The explosion scattered the Talon's remains across the junkyard, leaving nothing but charred pieces. There was no way the Court of Owls could piece her back together now.
And with that final explosion, Michael confirmed the last piece of information he needed.
In this alternate version of Earth-11, the Court of Owls didn't have the technology or the resources to use Electrum—the resurrection metal. They couldn't bring this Talon back.