"Boom!!!"
With a deafening explosion, a cloud of dust burst forth from the doorway, enveloping the group in a gray haze. The mix of dirt and rainwater on their already wet clothes quickly turned into a thick layer of mud.
A sign, blasted loose by the explosion, flew toward Michael (Slade), landing at his feet. It was broken, but he could still make out the word "Laboratory."
"Looks like Falcone hasn't been too concerned with housekeeping. His 'New Rome' is far from the cleanliness of ancient Rome," Cindy remarked as the dust began to settle. She dusted herself off, observing their surroundings. "But hey, it does give off a bit of an archaeological vibe."
"Are you sure this is the path Falcone's men used to take Commissioner Gordon? This place looks like it hasn't seen life in decades," Michael said, raising his gun as he peered cautiously into the research facility. His helmet's visor showed only shades of red in the darkness.
"I'm not certain. I couldn't find any fresh tracks today, but there might be another entrance in the junkyard," Cindy replied. She took a few steps forward, stepping over debris that crunched loudly beneath her boots.
Their helmet's night vision functioned well in the dim environment. But aside from their group, the scene within the laboratory was one of utter desolation—burnt documents, shattered typewriters, and all manner of destroyed equipment littered the floors. Whatever could be broken had been thoroughly wrecked.
"Seems like this is the right place after all."
Michael suspected Vicki Vale's uncanny luck was at work here. All she wanted was to film her promised news special, and somehow, fate had led them to this spot. It wasn't hard to guess that wherever they went from here, there would be plenty of action for her to film—probably enough to cut a whole "news blockbuster" by the time they were through. Given how bizarre everything had become, they wouldn't likely find another path even if they searched—such was the effect of Vicki's luck.
When Vicki needed a gas mask, she conveniently found one in the Batcave. When she needed money, she stumbled upon gold.
Vicki seemed to function like an uncontrollable force of fortune—a double-edged sword. While sometimes that luck came with risks, Michael found he needed it, especially given the dire circumstances. His own luck had been pretty abysmal—one minute in a dingy apartment, the next, thrust into Gotham's gunfire and chaos, with the world itself on the verge of destruction. It felt like the universe was treating him like the unluckiest man alive.
So for now, Vicki was his good-luck charm. If things ever became completely impossible to handle, maybe fate would intervene in their favor. Until they found Bryce (Batwoman), the true child of destiny, he would have to rely on Vicki's weird brand of fortune.
Michael's only hope now was that whatever monsters awaited inside wouldn't be too numerous.
"We're going in. You keep them safe," Michael holstered his gun and drew his long blade, ready to lead the group into the lab.
Cindy, quick to react, pressed a finger to his chest armor, pushing him back with a shake of her head. She withdrew her own twin blades, stepping ahead to take point.
No way she'd let a man take the lead—what kind of face would she have left after that?
Michael shrugged. If she wanted to lead the way, that was fine with him. After all, it didn't really make much difference whether he was a few steps ahead or behind.
With their helmet's night vision enabled, the pitch-black interior was no challenge for Michael and Cindy. However, the others—Barbara, Vicki, and Pete—had to rely on the camera's lighting to see.
Though the power in the facility still functioned, the lighting on the first floor had been destroyed. Wires dangled from the walls like entrails spilling from a gutted animal, sparking occasionally.
Barbara's first impression was one of utter devastation. The facility looked as though it had been ravaged by a typhoon, with almost everything in sight broken beyond repair.
Gotham's hidden history lay in ruins around her. Such a place should never have existed in this city.
Vicki had already begun filming, though she instructed Pete to focus on capturing environmental footage for now, saving any commentary for later.
This was the uppermost level of the underground research lab, and theoretically, it was supposed to be the safest part. But from what they were seeing, Michael suspected that something dangerous had escaped from below.
At that moment, Cindy, scouting ahead, sliced through something with her blades. A shadowy figure flying at her was cut cleanly in two, landing with a squelch on the floor.
The thing wasn't dead yet—it writhed on the ground. Cindy glanced down at the wriggling form. It looked like a large black maggot, about the size of a human hand.
"What the hell is this?" she muttered, stomping on it with her boot, grinding it into a puddle of greenish goo.
"Looks like a giant maggot," Michael observed as he caught sight of the creature. It was clearly the result of some twisted genetic experiment.
"I'm starting to hate this place already," Cindy grumbled. She wiped her blade clean on the remains of a shattered desk, her blade covered in the strange, jelly-like innards of the mutant creature. Without wasting any time, she moved forward again, as more of the black maggots continued leaping out from the shadows.
"We need to find the passage to the lower levels, through the lab area, and down to the living quarters," Michael said, slicing through another wriggling creature.
"There's a hallway about 200 meters at our 11 o'clock," Cindy replied after a quick glance ahead. Her combat instincts and experience made her sharp as ever.
The group began moving toward the hallway, and as they progressed, the number of black worms increased, swarming in greater numbers. Cindy switched to a shotgun to expedite their progress through the writhing horde.
The creatures seemed endless, swarming in the dark. Killing them all would be impossible. Their best option was to move quickly.
As they approached the hallway, the infestation grew even denser, confirming Cindy's suspicion—they were nearing the source. The creatures must have come from the experimentation area.
And that meant containment had failed. The lunatics running this place had clearly been experimenting with far more dangerous creatures than just oversized maggots.
Thanks to Cindy and Michael's protection, the group made it to the door without incident. It creaked open with a slight push.
As soon as the door swung wide, something lunged from the ceiling, attacking Cindy with claws and fangs. It latched onto her armor, claws screeching against the metal.
But Cindy didn't panic. A world-class mercenary, she was used to sudden attacks. She drew a blade and thrust it through the creature's skull, the blade piercing its eye socket and exiting the back of its head with a sickening crack.
The creature fell limp, its body crashing to the ground.
The thing resembled a hairless monkey or ape, with thick, crab-like shells covering its joints—clearly another twisted creation, likely meant to hunt the black worms.
But this time, it had picked the wrong prey.
Cindy calmly decapitated the creature, ensuring it wouldn't get back up anytime soon. Even if it had regenerative abilities, it would take time to recover, giving them enough time to pass.
"So…what do we call this thing? Shell-monkey? Beetle-ape?" Cindy asked as she examined the bizarre creature's head. Its teeth were horizontal, much like an insect's.
"Who knows? Probably just some experiment number," Michael replied, leading the others through the corridor.
Cindy shrugged and continued clearing the way. With military experiments, it was easy to imagine they had used humans as subjects—who needed monkeys when there were people available?
"Was that…a person?" Barbara asked in horror. Aside from the creature's vaguely humanoid features, she never would've guessed it had once been human.
"Just a guess," Michael said, shutting the door behind them and glancing at the mangled corpse.
Barbara remained silent, overwhelmed by a sense of sadness. The madness of humanity's self-destructive tendencies never ceased to appall her.
Vicki, on the other hand, was eagerly jotting down notes. This confirmed some of her theories about Deathstroke's mysterious origins. She immediately instructed Pete to zoom in on the creature's corpse for a close-up and capture its twisted form from every angle.
She smiled inwardly, certain that once viewers saw this special report, they'd fall in love with her all over again.