Kathoom darted out like a bullet—faster than any dog could chase.
Bruce had just left the Batcave with Diana when Kathoom apparated by his side, looking as if he'd just returned from a pleasant vacation.
"How about it? Did you miss me?" Kathoom grinned. "Did you shed a few tears for me when I wasn't looking?"
"I heard you got strung up and beaten by the Merciless," Bruce asked, feigning curiosity. "Did it hurt?"
"Fake news!"
Kathoom flapped his wings dismissively. "That loudmouth Diana must've been spreading rumors. And here I thought about giving her a gift."
He produced a white lasso from his feathers—the very same Lasso of Lies that the Merciless had used to bind him. Now that the Merciless was dead, the lasso was his spoils.
"For you," Kathoom said, tossing the lasso to Diana. "This thing's useless to me. You might as well add it to your collection."
He smirked, imagining her future child playing with the legendary lassos: her mother's Lasso of Truth, her father's Lasso of Secrets, and the Lasso of Lies from their eccentric "Grandpa Owl."
"Enough chit-chat."
Having delivered his gift, Kathoom urged Bruce to hurry back to the Batcave. He had seen firsthand the abominations the Merciless had created there: Zombie Bruce and Zombie Kathoom.
"I wouldn't mind the zombie version of you," Kathoom admitted, "but that zombie owl? Hideous. It's an insult to my likeness. I won't let it exist!"
The Merciless's madness had exceeded even Kathoom's expectations. Originally, Kathoom thought the villain intended to use a Mother Box to animate the zombies. Instead, the Merciless had connected them directly to the Source Wall through stasis energy.
"This complicates things," Kathoom mused. "If their power comes from the Source Wall, who knows if Voldemort or Homelander could even stand against it?"
He could only hope those two wouldn't disappoint him.
The trio—two humans and one owl—soon arrived at the Merciless's desecrated Batcave.
The sight was nothing short of horrifying. Blood spattered everywhere, transforming the cave into a gruesome crime scene.
Oddly, there were no bodies—no victims, no corpses, nothing. In the center of the bloodied floor was a humanoid outline where the blood had been wiped away, as if someone had once lain there.
"Big guy," Kathoom remarked, inspecting the outline. "If I had to guess, that was Pigface Professor getting killed—at least once."
Bruce immediately understood.
Incarnates like the Pigface Professor could only be killed permanently by another Incarnate. Otherwise, no matter how many times they were "killed," they'd keep resurrecting.
"Who did it?" Bruce asked, though the answer was already obvious.
The culprits were undoubtedly Zombie Bruce and Zombie Kathoom.
In the center of the lab, the workstation used for creating bodies still stood. Bruce approached and found a phrase scratched into its surface:
"Who am I?"
The etching wasn't deep, but the chaotic scrawl betrayed the writer's turmoil.
"Looks like it was scratched in with fingernails," Kathoom observed, fluttering over for a closer look.
"A freak given life, plunged into an identity crisis, slaughtering aimlessly to find itself," Kathoom muttered. "How cliché. If I had to bet, it'll come looking for us next."
He groaned theatrically. "Heaven help me—I didn't even do anything this time!"
"What now?" Diana asked, baffled by the scene. Her primary concern was whether they could still send the Pigface Professor back to his world.
"Don't worry!"
Kathoom pulled out a notebook from his feathers. It had once housed fragments of Voldemort's and Homelander's personas. Kathoom had preserved it as a contingency plan, and now it seemed his foresight was paying off.
Flipping through the blank pages, Kathoom yanked out one of his own feathers, transforming it into a quill. He scribbled a single phrase:
"I am Bruce Wayne."
Bruce shot him a glare.
"Why not use your own name?" Bruce asked. "How many times have you impersonated me now?"
"And you've never impersonated me?" Kathoom countered, smirking. "Hypocrite."
Bruce shook his head and let it slide.
As soon as Kathoom finished writing, faint words began to materialize on the page:
"Help... me…"
The handwriting resembled a 16-year-old Tom Riddle's.
"Looks like our dear Tom is in quite a bind," Kathoom chuckled. Voldemort's persona had apparently been implanted into Zombie Bruce's mind. But with the Source Wall's power intervening, even Voldemort couldn't maintain control.
"Something stronger is devouring his existence," Kathoom remarked, showing little sympathy. A fragment of a fractured soul like Voldemort's was hardly worth saving.
Still, he was Kathoom's property. If he had to perish, it would at least be on Kathoom's terms.
"Don't worry, I'll save you!" Kathoom scribbled, adding a baiting follow-up: "Where are you? I'll come get you right now!"
"I... don't know…"
Voldemort's handwriting grew shakier, as if he were struggling just to communicate.
"He wants to leave…" the writing continued. "He wants to leave this world. And he's almost succeeded!"
Leave the world?
Bruce's first instinct was disbelief. Even with power from the Source Wall, crossing worlds wasn't so simple. And Kathoom, for all his quirks, wasn't omnipotent.
Then it struck him: crossing worlds didn't necessarily mean traversing the multiverse. It could simply mean traveling between internal DC universes—a feat Bruce himself could now perform.
"What's his goal?" Kathoom pressed. "Is he looking for allies or more power?"
"I don't kn—"
Before Voldemort could finish, the writing ceased entirely.
Kathoom called out several times to no avail. He even tried switching to Homelander's fragment but was met with silence.
"Bruce!" Diana suddenly exclaimed.
A faint yellow glow surrounded her—an effect of the mysterious Yellow Crystal's wish-granting powers.
"All the Incarnates are gone!" she declared. "I can feel it. The world has returned to normal!"
Her face lit up with joy, a radiance of satisfaction as she realized she had finally corrected her previous mistake.
But Bruce's expression was grim. Diana's reaction confirmed one thing: the Pigface Professor had left this world.
And that meant Zombie Bruce had as well.
Their inability to contact Voldemort and Homelander was another piece of the puzzle.
"The Merciless," Bruce murmured under his breath, "can't even rest in death. That monstrosity he created… if it's allowed to roam freely through the DC Universe, who knows what kind of disaster it might cause?"
"No need to worry about that just yet," Kathoom interjected, pulling out the notebook he'd been using. He laid it open in front of Diana and Bruce.
"See this?"
Kathoom extended a wing, pointing to a small square of paper nestled between the pages. It was clear the paper had been torn from elsewhere in the notebook.
"What is that?" Bruce asked.
"It's Voldemort's soul countdown!" Kathoom announced proudly. "This notebook is a Horcrux—it stores fragments of Voldemort's soul. They're inseparable."
He continued, "I used magic to give Voldemort's soul a physical form. As long as his personality isn't entirely obliterated, this paper will remain intact."
Kathoom picked up the scrap, balancing it on his wing.
Bruce watched as the paper appeared to come alive, fluttering aimlessly without any wind to guide it. Its erratic movements, however, suggested it lacked direction.
"Since Voldemort isn't in this world, the paper can't lock onto him," Kathoom explained.
The inspiration for this creation had come from the Vivre Cards in One Piece. The concept was simple: establish a connection to the owner's soul.
Kathoom had made one for himself and even one for Bruce, though he hadn't found a reason to use them yet.
Vivre Cards were designed to orient themselves toward their owners. When the owner grew weaker, the card would shrink; if the owner recovered, it would return to normal size. Should the card begin to crumble, it meant the owner was nearing death.
"See? Voldemort's card is still healthy," Kathoom said, pinching the fluttering scrap. "He made it sound like he was on his last legs, but he's far from death."
"So you're saying that Zombie Bruce hasn't fully developed self-awareness yet?" Bruce asked.
"Exactly," Kathoom replied. "Once Voldemort's personality is gone, Zombie Bruce will fully take control of his body—but not until then."
At least, that was Kathoom's professional assessment.
"Strike while the iron's hot!" Kathoom declared. "Now's the perfect time. Even if he's stolen power from the Source Wall, he doesn't know how to use it yet!"
Bruce immediately understood what Kathoom was implying. It was time to leave this world.
"So, we're going to—"
"Wait a moment!" Diana interrupted, speaking for the first time in a while.
While she lacked extensive worldly experience, she wasn't ignorant of what was happening.
"Are you leaving?" she asked Bruce directly.
"It's just temporary," Bruce replied calmly, holding up his hand. The uru metal ring he wore glinted faintly.
"I have some things to take care of. Once they're done, I'll return."
Hearing Bruce confirm his departure, Diana seemed to enter an odd state of mind.
If things had progressed normally, she would have said something simple, like:
"Since you're leaving and everything's resolved, let's call off the engagement."
Their engagement had always been a temporary arrangement, a means to an end. Now, there was no reason to continue it. Ending it would have been perfectly reasonable.
But for reasons she couldn't explain, Diana didn't say that.
"How long will you be gone?" she asked instead. "Will you be back within five years?"
Bruce froze for a moment. Why five years?
"Because you're an idiot," Kathoom quipped sarcastically from the side. "You're thirteen now. In five years, you'll be an adult."
Bruce's age was, admittedly, complicated. He had traversed numerous worlds, endured time loops—technically, he should be older than fourteen.
But at fourteen, certain things still weren't permissible.
"Five years at most!" Bruce nodded firmly. "I'll definitely be back within five years!"
"Good!" Diana nodded back, her gaze unwavering.
She wasn't the type to hesitate. Diana knew how to prioritize. Some matters couldn't be delayed.
"It's a shame you're leaving now," she said. "If only you could stay one more night."
"That's—" Bruce's eyes lit up, and he immediately rolled up his sleeves, ready to declare that staying one more night was perfectly fine.
"Forget it!"
Kathoom abruptly activated the interdimensional portal and unceremoniously kicked Bruce through it.
"Your job as a kid is to study hard. Adult matters can wait until you're grown!"
Turning to Diana, Kathoom added, "Don't worry, Diana. I'll keep an eye on our little Bat in the other worlds!"
After all, they were prison buddies. Watching out for each other came with the territory.
"Oh, right!"
Kathoom rummaged through his feathers and pulled out a small owl plush.
"I'll leave Kathoom the Third with you. This way, you won't feel too lonely in this world!"
Before Diana could protest, Kathoom tossed the plush into her hands.
With Kathoom the Third present, Kathoom himself could communicate with Diana across dimensions—a trick he'd learned from the sorceress Muun.
Though whether he would use it was another matter entirely.
"Maybe I'll make a Kathoom the Fourth and give it to Alfred," Kathoom mused as he stepped into the portal himself. "That way, Bruce won't have to keep writing letters that'll never get a reply."
With that, Kathoom vanished, leaving Diana standing alone.
The faint glow of the Yellow Crystal still surrounded her, its mysterious powers continuing to influence her.
"Goddess Diana, I wish…"
Holding the owl plush close, Diana whispered to herself, "I wish for Bruce's safety and success in achieving his goals."
Though she knew she couldn't grant her own wish, her heartfelt blessing for Bruce was genuine.
She stood silently, watching the portal for a moment. Then, suddenly, a realization struck her.
"Wait a second—"
Diana's eyes widened. Why didn't I go with him?
The interdimensional portal was still open in front of her.
An Amazon woman dares to love and hate boldly.
The words echoed in her mind.
Should I?
Gritting her teeth, Diana made her decision. Without hesitation, she sprinted toward the portal.