Chapter 55: I'm not Batman, Bane's Special Move
————————————————————
Ultra-low temperatures create an absolutely static world, a realm where everything comes to a halt—motionless, frozen in time. And yet, despite their stillness, the frozen remain alive, locked in a suspended state until the ice melts away.
Under Mr. Freeze's pulse gun at maximum power, half of the laboratory had transformed into a solid block of ice. The entire scene gleamed with crystal clarity, an unnatural yet mesmerizing beauty that only true cold could create.
In the past, Victor Fries would have taken a moment to admire his work. There was something satisfying in the way the ice sculpted the environment into a pristine, frozen masterpiece. But tonight, he had no time for appreciation. There was still much to be done.
His visor flickered with data, scanning the surroundings, and the information fed back to him revealed an anomaly—something was still moving.
That shouldn't be possible.
"Using pulse rays of this power against an unprotected human, Dr. Victor, I can only assume you're trying to kill me."
The voice came from above. Hidden in the shadows of the ceiling beams, Dean clung to the factory's support structure, his body perfectly positioned behind the glare of a hanging light. The backlighting obscured him completely, preventing Mr. Freeze from pinpointing his exact location. But in a battle like this, it hardly mattered.
Because the pulse ray was not a weapon that needed precision. It was an area-of-effect attack, and once it spread, there was nowhere to hide.
Without hesitation, Mr. Freeze adjusted his aim, turning the massive barrel of his gun upward. A new wave of glacial energy surged forth, spreading ice rapidly toward the ceiling beams, encasing everything in thick frost.
Forced to move, Dean leaped nimbly from one beam to another, dodging in swift, calculated motions. He never stayed in one place too long, knowing that the second he stopped, he would be frozen solid.
"You remind me of a very unpleasant person," Mr. Freeze said in his usual cold, mechanical tone. "I plan to deal with him sooner or later. But for now, you will be my test subject."
Dean's eyes narrowed slightly at the words. He had a strong suspicion of who Freeze was referring to.
"Attacking an officer of the law, Dr. Victor?" Dean called out, his voice calm but edged with warning. "That's a direct violation. As someone working for a government-sanctioned violent agency, I now have the right to respond with violent methods."
His movements, though still fluid, were slowing. Even without a direct hit from the pulse ray, the sheer drop in temperature was affecting his body. Every breath he took burned his lungs with biting cold, and his limbs were beginning to stiffen.
But Mr. Freeze, on the other hand, was thriving in this environment.
A long time ago, a specific cryogenic compound had permanently altered his cellular structure, forcing his body to adapt in a way no human ever had before. He had undergone what could be called an "ultimate evolution"—a transformation born not out of choice, but necessity. His body had reshaped itself to remain active only in freezing temperatures. The cost? He could no longer function in normal, warm conditions.
Since that day, Victor Fries had never once felt the warmth of the sun on his skin.
Bang! Bang!
Two gunshots echoed through the frozen air. The bullets struck Mr. Freeze's helmet, leaving only faint, shallow marks.
"Impressive marksmanship," he admitted, his voice completely indifferent. "But useless. Guns cannot harm me. Perhaps your wooden sword could do the trick, Demon Cop?"
For ordinary people, room temperature was comfortable. But for Victor Fries, it was lethal. That was why he had designed a suit—a cryogenic exoskeleton—to maintain his body temperature at freezing levels at all times. It also provided him with heavy armor, making standard firearms practically ineffective.
Dean sighed, shaking his head.
"I know that guns are the lowest-tier weapons in Gotham. You supervillains, on the other hand, all have your own 'miraculous' gear—most of which, I might add, are homemade." He clicked his tongue in mock frustration. "It really bothers me that all the best talents in this city seem to end up in Arkham instead of somewhere useful."
Despite the biting cold creeping into his bones, Dean's movements didn't stop. Instead, he reached into his system warehouse and pulled out two grenades.
"That's exactly why I came prepared with some 'unconventional weapons.'" He smirked as he pulled the pins. "Be careful, Dr. Victor—I made sure to save a spot just for you."
With a flick of his wrist, he sent the grenades arcing through the air, their trajectory perfectly timed and placed to land where Mr. Freeze stood.
But the cryogenic scientist wasn't fazed in the slightest.
With practiced ease, he pulled out a smaller pulse pistol from his belt, aimed, and fired.
The blue energy streaked through the air, striking the grenades mid-fall. By the time they hit the ground, they were no longer explosive devices—they were nothing more than two solid, frozen blocks of ice.
Dean whistled softly.
"Not bad, Doctor. Your aim is just as sharp as your brain."
The arc of the thrown grenade was marked precisely in Mr. Freeze's visor. His specialized glasses, designed to protect his retinas and enhance his vision, tracked the movement effortlessly.
Without hesitation, he lifted his large pulse gun, taking precise aim.
"Thank you for the compliment," he said in his usual cold, mechanical tone, "but unfortunately for you… I see you."
A blue pulse ray erupted from the barrel, striking its target with pinpoint accuracy.
And this time—there was a young body encased inside the glacier.
Frozen mid-air, locked within a thick layer of solid ice, Dean's figure was now completely immobilized. He hung within the icy prison, suspended in time.
Mr. Freeze let out a slow, controlled breath, his cold suit releasing a faint mist as it maintained his body at subzero temperatures.
"I really didn't want to kill you, Demon Cop," he muttered, shaking his head slightly. His voice, while emotionless, carried a trace of regret. "But your master… has provoked someone he shouldn't have."
He stared at the frozen figure for a moment longer before exhaling sharply and turning away.
He didn't have time for unnecessary sentimentality.
Tonight, Gotham would experience a new era of cold, one that would mark the city permanently.
Because the undead who once emerged from ice… were returning.
The city had no idea what awaited it.
"Gotham will be a little colder from now on," he murmured, his heavy boots crunching over the ice as he began making his way toward the stairwell. His mission was not yet complete—there was still work to be done.
Yet, just as he placed his foot on the first step, a sound shattered the silence.
A voice.
A voice that should have been silenced within the ice.
"I have to admit… I don't particularly like the name 'Demon Cop.'"
The words echoed through the frozen laboratory.
Slow. Calm. Unshaken.
And impossibly alive.
Mr. Freeze's body stiffened. His head turned slowly, the red lenses of his visor narrowing as he stared at the glacier behind him.
A shadow moved within the ice.
Then suddenly—
Crack!
A deep fracture spread across the frozen shell.
With a thunderous shattering sound, a burly red figure burst through the ice, sending shards flying in all directions.
The contrast was stark—his burning crimson body standing in defiance against the overwhelming blue cold surrounding him.
Mr. Freeze's breath caught slightly, his mechanical suit hissing as he instinctively adjusted its temperature settings.
"Impossible," he muttered, disbelief creeping into his usually emotionless tone. "No creature in this world can survive at absolute zero temperatures. The moment you were hit, your cells should have completely necrotized!"
The red-skinned being rolled his neck, cracking his knuckles as he stepped forward, his movements smooth and unbothered by the cold. His voice carried a smirk, yet there was an undeniable edge of something inhuman beneath it.
"That's because…" he said, his six glowing eyes flashing dangerously, "I am not a creature from this world."
At the last possible second before impact, he had activated the Omnitrix.
And in that moment, he had transformed.
Now, he stood before Mr. Freeze, no longer an ordinary human but a Dimensional Demon.
This was not a species known for their raw physical strength—they were not like Bane or Solomon Grundy.
But their resilience?
Their sheer adaptability?
That was something else entirely.
The world in which Dimensional Demons were born and raised was nothing short of hell itself.
Natural disasters were their constant reality—they lived among blizzards, volcanic eruptions, hurricanes, relentless starvation, and endless floods. Their existence was a never-ending struggle for survival, forcing them to adapt, evolve, and become something… far beyond mortal comprehension.
Dean, now in this hellish demonic form, clenched his fists, his red body steaming in the cold air. Though impervious to the frost, the remnants of ice that had encased him still clung to his skin in chunks. He brushed them off effortlessly, his sharp claws clicking against the melting shards.
Mr. Freeze narrowed his eyes, gripping his pulse gun tightly.
"Another transformation gimmick? How boring." His voice had returned to its usual detached state.
He was not impressed.
Batman—now he was someone worth talking to.
When the two of them spoke, their conversations stretched beyond just combat. They discussed science, philosophy, morality… real topics that actually stimulated Mr. Freeze's mind.
Even when they fought, there was a mutual respect.
Because underneath that bat-shaped mask, there was a brilliant mind—a strategic thinker who understood the world in a way that very few could.
This thing standing before him?
This transformation?
It was just brute force in a different skin.
"You wouldn't think absolute zero is my limit, would you?" Mr. Freeze suddenly said, adjusting the controls on his weapon. "That's merely the limit of temperature—not the limit of intelligence."
A sudden whine filled the air as his pulse gun recalibrated.
Then, he fired.
But this time, the pulse ray was different.
It was no longer a wide-area blast—no longer an AOE attack meant to freeze the entire environment.
Instead, it was refined—a thin, concentrated beam, no thicker than a human finger.
And when it struck the Dimensional Demon's chest, it left behind a thin layer of ice.
A rare sting shot through Dean's body.
For the first time since his transformation, he felt the bite of the cold.
His six eyes narrowed.
Mr. Freeze stood firm, his weapon still aimed, his finger still on the trigger.
"I've adjusted the freezing frequency," he said simply. "Instead of blanketing the area in frost, I'm now targeting your cells directly. Freezing you from the inside, molecule by molecule."
Dean gritted his teeth, feeling a deep, unsettling chill seep into his very core.
Then, despite the pain—
He grinned.
"Not bad, Dr. Victor." His voice was laced with both amusement and acknowledgment. "That's actually pretty damn advanced."
A low, dry chuckle rumbled in his chest as he flexed his fingers, watching the thin frost begin to spread slowly across his red skin.
"I swear, the Demon Hunters would pay a fortune for a weapon like that."
There was no such thing as an "easy" supervillain in Gotham.
Every one of them had mastered their own craft, turning what some would consider a weakness into a terrifying strength.
Mr. Freeze might have suffered from his condition, but in return, he had become something far more dangerous—a scientist who had conquered the cold itself.
And in doing so, he had weaponized it.
"You are not Batman," Mr. Freeze stated coldly. "You lack his precision. His foresight. His intelligence. You are nothing more than an immature brute who thinks power alone can solve everything."
Mr. Freeze had never truly considered Dean a serious threat. It wasn't arrogance—well, at least not entirely. It was simply how things worked in Gotham.
The city's villains only truly acknowledged one hero. To them, there was only one real opponent—only one figure whose name held weight, whose presence demanded respect.
And that man was Batman.
Anyone else? They were just pretenders.
So when Dean stood there, encased in his demonic form, wreathed in faint green hellfire, Mr. Freeze simply tightened his grip on his pulse gun and exhaled. The mechanical hiss of his cryogenic suit filled the frozen air as he recalibrated his weapon once again.
"You should know something," Dean's voice rumbled.
The green glow in his six eyes burned even brighter. The dim, flickering flames danced within them, reflecting in the icy walls of the laboratory.
"I don't appreciate being looked at like a fool."
A deep, low growl rumbled from his throat.
"It makes me a little… angry, Doctor."
That single word—angry—shifted something in the air.
The green flames that had been swirling faintly around him suddenly surged, crackling like a wildfire that had just been fed pure oxygen.
The white frost that had been covering his demonic skin began to melt away, vanishing as if being devoured by an invisible force.
And then—
The flames spread.
Not outward, but inward.
Like a hungry beast, the hellfire consumed his own body, burning through the ice's lingering effects, seeping deep into his muscles and bones.
And in return—
His body reformed itself.
Regenerated.
The dead cells that should have succumbed to the absolute cold were suddenly reborn, reignited by the sheer ferocity of his emotions.
Because Demons—true demons—did not just survive on emotions. They fed on them.
The stronger the emotion, the stronger they became. And right now?
Dean was pissed.
The Dimension Demon lifted his arms slowly, flexing his claws as his body temperature skyrocketed, completely reversing the chilling effects of Mr. Freeze's targeted cryo-blast. His six eyes locked onto the scientist, and this time, there was no trace of humor left in them.
There was only wrath.
Mr. Freeze instinctively took a small step backward. For the first time in their encounter, he felt something resembling uncertainty.
Dean took a step forward. The ice beneath his feet melted instantly.
Another step. The metal beneath them groaned, expanding from the sudden, unnatural heat. The air itself was now warping around him, as if the sheer contrast of his presence was disturbing the fragile balance between fire and ice.
Mr. Freeze did not hesitate. He lifted his weapon and fired. But the pulse ray that had frozen him before did nothing this time.
The moment it struck the green flames, the energy was devoured, absorbed into the swirling hellfire that had now become an extension of Dean's very being.
The Dimension Demon didn't stop walking. Step by step, he closed the distance.
The laboratory trembled. The cold mist that had once dominated the air was now being burned away, replaced by the suffocating heat of something not of this world.
For the first time in a long time—
Mr. Freeze's environment was no longer his own. His battlefield was being turned against him. And the man responsible for it?
He was standing right in front of him now.
Towering.
Unstoppable.
A Demon in every sense of the word.
"Dr. Victor," Dean murmured, his voice low and deadly. He lifted one clawed hand, moving with impossible speed, and before Mr. Freeze could react.
He grabbed him.
Not gently. Not carefully.
But with brutal, overwhelming force.
His massive, clawed fingers wrapped around Mr. Freeze's armored waist, gripping him like a child holding a toy. At the same time, his other hand snapped forward, grabbing both of the scientist's arms and pinning them in place.
Mr. Freeze's pulse gun clattered to the ground, useless now. And for the first time in a long time.
Mr. Freeze felt powerless.
"You know," Dean said, tightening his grip, "I may not be Batman."
He slowly lifted Mr. Freeze's entire body off the ground, holding him in the air as if he weighed nothing.
The scientist struggled, but it was futile. The Demon's strength was not something he could overcome.
"I don't have the flexibility of a bat," Dean continued, his tone eerily calm.
The green glow in his six eyes intensified.
"I don't have his intelligence, either."
The air around them burned hotter.
The flames licked at the edges of Mr. Freeze's armor, though they hadn't touched him directly yet. Dean's voice dropped to a whisper.
"But I have other qualities." And with that—
He moved.
In one swift, brutal motion, Dean forced Mr. Freeze's body to straighten, arms pinned. The exact same way another infamous figure had once handled Batman himself. Mr. Freeze's eyes widened in horror. He had seen this before. He knew what was coming.
"No."
His voice was hoarse, the realization setting in too late.
"No, you can't—"
Dean interrupted him. Not with words, but with his knee. He lifted it as he drag Mr. Freeze into it.
He slam him—HARD.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
Img:
A scream ripped through the frozen laboratory, echoing off the walls with a force that could shake the very foundations of Gotham itself.
————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————
If you like the story please support me by giving powerstones, comments and reviews. Your support will be very much appreciated!