The city was beginning to take on a different feel for Kian. Every corner seemed to whisper with potential, with opportunities for power—dangerous power. He could feel it deep within him now, the ever-growing ambition to control not just Gotham, but everything that could be used to his advantage. He could already see it, the landscape of the world shifting under his command, and the Bat Family and the Justice League standing as the only real obstacles left between him and total domination.
And for all of their might, for all their power, there was one thing they all had in common: vulnerabilities.
He had spent the last several days meditating, thinking about the suit, thinking about the arsenal he would need. A part of him wanted to ensure that he was prepared for anything—and everyone. The strength to match the strongest, the mind to outthink the smartest, and the speed to strike before any of them had a chance to react.
Kian wasn't naive. He knew Gotham would change, and soon. His enemies would start to notice the ripple effects of his actions, and while the Bat Family might be too preoccupied with each other, there was still the looming presence of Superman and the larger heroes, those who worked on a global scale. He didn't fear them. In fact, he found their weakness, the one thing that could level the playing field in his favor.
Kryptonite.
He'd gathered a small amount over the last few weeks, during various operations he'd orchestrated through his mercenaries, his trusted agents who operated under the radar. But now, the next step was clear—he needed to weaponize it. He wasn't just interested in using it for himself; he needed to make sure that if the need arose, his most trusted allies were equally armed.
Deathstroke, Deadshot, and—if all went according to plan—Red Hood. They would be invaluable assets in his war for control. But even they weren't beyond the reach of someone like Superman. Having a bullet designed to incapacitate or kill Kryptonians would be an absolute necessity.
It was time to find someone who could forge weapons out of kryptonite, and Kian knew just the man to call.
Kian sat at the edge of his desk, the steady hum of the city below him filling the silence. His fingers drummed lightly against the polished surface, eyes focused on the secure line in front of him. The voice on the other end of the phone was cool, professional, and immediately gave Kian the feeling that he was speaking with someone who had been in the game far longer than most.
"Caden," Kian said, his voice calm and to the point. "I need your services again."
Caden, an old acquaintance from his previous days as a mercenary, was one of the best at what he did. A blacksmith by trade, Caden had honed his craft into the creation of specialized weapons. If anyone could forge kryptonite into the kind of weaponry Kian required, it was him.
"I know what you're thinking," Caden replied with a dry chuckle. "You want something special made. Something lethal. Kryptonite, right?"
Kian didn't hesitate. "Exactly. I want it turned into ammunition—bullets, preferably. Enough for me, enough for Deathstroke, enough for Deadshot. And when Red Hood joins, he'll need a set too. Make sure each one is tailored to their needs. Make them powerful."
Caden's voice took on a thoughtful tone. "Kryptonite's tricky. You want to make bullets that'll hit hard, but not burn up in the process. And too much exposure to the metal can affect the integrity of the weapon itself. I can do it, but it'll take some time to get it right."
"I'll give you all the time you need," Kian said. "But I need it done."
There was a long pause before Caden spoke again, his tone serious. "I'll start with the basics first. Bullets, blades, and some heavy-duty rounds for the big guns. You'll have them within the week."
Kian's eyes narrowed slightly, considering the situation. He could feel a sense of certainty settle into his chest. This was one more step in his preparation—a step that would give him and his associates a fighting chance against the most dangerous threats in the world. He could already see how the pieces were falling into place.
"Good. Keep me updated, Caden."
The line went dead, and Kian leaned back in his chair. His mind was already running through the next stages of his plan—his empire was growing, and every element had to be in perfect balance.
He would need to continue to strengthen his position. Red Hood was one part of the equation, but other potential allies were out there. People who might see the same logic in his approach, who might understand the need for a strong hand to guide Gotham, to guide the world, to make sure that no one—no hero, no villain—could ever challenge his rise.
The days that followed were a blur of meetings, subtle manipulations, and coordination with his growing network. Kian was in constant motion, ensuring that his plans were moving forward without hiccups. But no matter what he did, he kept coming back to one central thought: The suit.
The prototype was nearly done, and soon he would need to begin the process of integrating it fully. He had to test it—push its limits—and see just how much it could do. The strength of it, the flexibility, the protection—it would be his shield against anyone who thought they could stand in his way.
But he wasn't going to let the suit define him. His true power lay in his mind, in his vision. And soon, that power would be multiplied by the weapons he'd acquire, the army he'd amass. It was all coming together.
Later that evening, Kian sat alone in his office, his mind shifting between thoughts of Jason Todd and the future of his empire. He'd gotten what he needed—an understanding of where Jason was, what he was doing, and how to pull him into the fold. But there was still more to consider.
The kryptonite ammunition would be ready soon. Caden had promised. It was just a matter of time before he could arm his forces. And once that happened, Kian's grip on the city would become unshakable. The mercenaries would be ready, the suit would be ready, and all the pieces would be in place.
Except one, Kian thought as he stared at the map of Gotham stretched across his desk. Jason Todd.
But he wasn't worried. He had time. And once Jason was with him, his team would be complete.
By the time Vincent returned with a report about Jason Todd, Kian was already preparing for the next phase. The pieces were in place. Gotham was waiting.
And soon, the world would be too.
Kian had always prided himself on his patience. It was one of the traits that had allowed him to survive in the dangerous world he had once inhabited, and now it was something he could use to his advantage. He didn't need to rush. He didn't need to force things into motion. The game, the city, the world—it would all bend to his will in time. He just had to keep pushing the right pieces in the right direction.
The next step, however, was critical.
Jason Todd.
Vincent had assured Kian that they were getting closer, that Jason would soon be at his doorstep, whether by force or persuasion. But Kian knew this wouldn't be like the others. Jason Todd wasn't just any mercenary or street-level thug. He was once a member of the Bat Family—someone who had the capacity for both chaos and discipline. Kian had no illusions about how difficult it would be to bring him into the fold. But that was why he needed him.
Jason would be a wild card, an unpredictable element in his carefully laid-out plans. But it was exactly that volatility that Kian could use. With Jason in his corner, the final pieces of his empire would click into place.
For now, though, there was little he could do but wait. The rest of his mercenaries were busy, ensuring the streets of Gotham stayed under his control while his enemies continued to move in the shadows. The Bat Family might be distracted, but they wouldn't stay that way forever. And Superman, for all his invincibility, was always lurking, ready to defend what he saw as the greater good.
Kian's mind wandered back to the kryptonite bullets. They were the final safeguard, his ace in the hole. He could feel the weight of them—each one a message to anyone who dared to stand in his way. A tool, a weapon of last resort. If Superman or any of the Justice League ever crossed his path, Kian would make sure they understood that he wasn't just playing a game anymore. He had the means to win.
The sound of his office door opening snapped Kian out of his thoughts. He didn't need to look up to know who it was. Vincent had a particular way of moving—quiet, efficient, but always with purpose.
"Talk to me," Kian said, his voice steady, his gaze focused on the map of Gotham laid out before him.
Vincent stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "We found him."
Kian's pulse quickened, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he nodded slowly. "Where?"
"Old Gotham Warehouse District. Like we thought. He's been operating out of there for the last few weeks. Small-time jobs, low-tier gangs, a few runs on the black market. It's almost like he's laying low. But there's one thing that stands out—he's been making waves. People are talking about him. The word on the street is he's starting to gather a reputation."
Kian leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping thoughtfully on the edge of his desk. "That's good. A reputation is something that can be used. Tell me, Vincent, how far do you think he'll go before he decides to take action?"
Vincent paused before answering. "He's starting to make his move, but he's still operating solo. He's cautious. Smart. But he's getting more aggressive with every passing day."
Kian's lips curled into a small smile. "Then it's time to move faster. Make contact. Convince him. Let him know that he's better off with me than against me."
Vincent gave a sharp nod. "Understood. I'll set it up."
Kian knew that bringing Jason into the fold wouldn't be easy. The boy—no, the man—had a long history of pain and betrayal. The League of Assassins had once claimed him as one of their own, and he had risen out of the ashes of death, the ghost of a former Robin. His transformation into the Red Hood had been one of vengeance, a quest for personal justice that left nothing but a trail of destruction in its wake.
It was a dangerous thing to make someone like Jason Todd an ally. But it was also a necessary one.
Kian had worked with killers before, had even been one himself. But he had never been someone who let emotion cloud his decisions. And Jason's anger, his hate, his desire for revenge—those were things Kian could use. They could be molded into something stronger, something useful. Jason wasn't a hero, but neither was Kian. He didn't need another hero on his side. He needed someone willing to cross every line, burn every bridge, if it meant winning.
The next few days passed in a blur of activity, all leading up to one pivotal moment. Kian was receiving reports from every angle—his men were sweeping through Gotham, eliminating any opposition to his control, while also making sure the Bat Family remained unaware of the growing storm.
His thoughts continued to return to Jason Todd.
The Red Hood was a loose cannon, a wild card. He could be a significant asset—or he could be a thorn in Kian's side. But Kian had learned that every asset needed to be carefully managed. Jason wasn't going to just fall into line like the others. He was a force of nature, and that kind of force needed a delicate touch.
And Kian had the patience to wait. He could wait for the right moment, the right opening. All he had to do was be strategic.
It was two days later when the call came in.
Vincent's voice was clear, but there was a hint of something else in it—something like excitement, or anticipation. Kian picked up the phone immediately.
"We've got him," Vincent said, his voice low. "Red Hood. He's been cornered. We've got him locked in, but he's… not cooperating."
Kian's heart skipped a beat, but his voice remained steady. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."
When Kian arrived, he found Jason Todd bound to a chair in an underground warehouse—a place that had become one of Kian's many safehouses. Jason's eyes were fiery, his jaw clenched in defiance as he glared up at Kian, refusing to show any sign of fear.
Kian approached slowly, examining Jason with cold precision. "You've been a difficult man to find, Jason. But I'm not here to fight."
Jason sneered. "Then what do you want? You want me to join your little team of misfits? Not gonna happen."
Kian chuckled, walking around him like a predator circling its prey. "Misfits? Hardly. I'm offering you a chance to be part of something much bigger than whatever little crusade you're on. You have the skill. The drive. But you're wasting it—running around, killing anyone who crosses your path. You're better than that."
Jason's eyes flared with anger. "Better than what? You? Some self-righteous puppet who thinks he can control everything? You don't know anything about me."
Kian stopped in front of him, leaning in close. "I know exactly what you are, Jason. I've watched you. I know what drives you. You've been pushed to the edge of sanity, and now you're trying to burn the world down. But there's a place for someone like you. With me, you can have the power to reshape everything. And you won't have to keep fighting alone."
Jason's defiance wavered for just a moment, and Kian could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes. But before Jason could respond, Kian added, "You don't have to be a hero, Jason. You just need to be a force of nature. The world doesn't need more heroes. It needs someone who can reshape it."
Jason remained silent for a long time, his eyes narrowing as he processed the offer. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and filled with barely contained anger. "And if I refuse?"
Kian smiled. "You won't."
Kian had made his offer. Now it was time to see what Jason would do with it.
But even as he walked away, Kian couldn't shake the feeling that Jason Todd was the final piece of his puzzle. If Jason joined him—if he could be convinced—then Kian's rise to power would be unstoppable.
And yet, there was a part of Kian that felt uncertain. Not about the power, not about the strategy, but about the people who would follow him. Jason Todd might be dangerous, but was he dangerous enough to break free from his past?
The game was changing. The pieces were falling into place. And soon, very soon, Kian would have everything he needed to take control.
The question was: would Jason Todd stand with him? Or would he break from the fold and become the very thing Kian had worked so hard to avoid?