Chapter 56: Talon
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Thick, icy air leaked from the cracks in the armor, spilling out like a living entity, spreading across the ground in waves, rolling and twisting like liquid mist. The heavy cold smothered the air, making every breath sting.
Mr. Freeze's body was hurled to the ground like discarded scrap metal, his frozen armor crashing against the hard floor with a sharp, metallic clatter. The Dimension Demon loomed over him, his towering form radiating an unnatural heat in stark contrast to the cold mist surrounding them.
He lifted his leg and delivered a swift kick, flipping Mr. Freeze onto his back with ease.
Although the agony of a broken spine would eventually be dulled by the numbing cold, the raw pain contorting Victor Fries' face was unmistakable.
The shock of his lower body going numb struck him harder than the physical injury itself—it was a sensation he hadn't felt before, a loss of control that filled him with something he hadn't experienced in a long time. Fear.
"I hope this helps you 'cool down,' Professor Fries," the Dimension Demon said, his deep, gravelly voice reverberating through the freezing air. His six glowing eyes bore down on the man beneath him, devoid of pity or hesitation.
"Now, let's start our conversation again, this time, on equal footing."
From his vantage point above, the Dimension Demon peered down at the fallen scientist, his posture relaxed yet menacing. The eerie, green flames flickering around his massive, crimson body slowly extinguished, vanishing as though they had never existed.
He moved with a casual ease, as if he had merely done something routine. Yet, the truth was far from ordinary—Dean had just shattered Victor Fries' spine, rendering him crippled.
Despite his predicament, Mr. Freeze soon composed himself. Lying helpless on the icy floor, he stared up into the six merciless, burning eyes of the Dimension Demon—and to Dean's mild surprise, he laughed.
"You're flawed… just like him," Fries chuckled, his voice hoarse but laced with grim amusement. "You and Batman… both the same. Human, yet pretending not to be."
Dean tapped Freeze's helmet with his thick fingers, his tone flat and unamused. "People are all flawed, Dr. Fries. So let's stop talking about him and focus on something more important."
His six eyes narrowed, the glow intensifying. "Robin he was here first. What did you do to him?"
Dean had checked the second floor earlier, yet there were no signs of Robin anywhere. That in itself was intriguing. It meant Robin had never made it up the stairs. Which could only mean one thing—there had to be a hidden area within Northern Pure Land.
Mr. Freeze, despite his situation, remained eerily calm. He knew exactly what Dean was capable of—after all, he had witnessed Black Mask meet his end at his hands. The detective's brutal efficiency was no secret, and Freeze was no fool.
He had experienced Dean's methods firsthand and, while he wasn't afraid of death, he still had unfinished business. And so, he chose to cooperate—at least, to a degree.
"I haven't seen Robin," Freeze admitted, his voice steady. "You're the third person to come here tonight. The first two were here to 'feed' him."
Dean's eyes flickered with confusion. "Feed?"
Mr. Freeze sighed, a ghostly mist escaping his lips. "You're an outsider, Demon Cop. You don't know the song."
His voice took on a distant, almost poetic tone, as though reciting something long buried in the city's history. "You might think I'm lying, but they exist. They always have. The true rulers of this city. Watching from above… waiting in the dark."
Dean's gaze darkened as the words sank in.
The Court of Owls.
Their Talon assassins could have easily taken Robin without making a sound. Everything fit.
Dean clenched his fists. "So, the Court of Owls," he muttered, his tone colder than the ice surrounding them. "Their Talon assassins could've taken Robin without a trace." His six glowing eyes fixed on Mr. Freeze, who was watching him with an expression that almost resembled amusement.
For some reason, something about this moment felt… off.
Dean narrowed his eyes at the scientist, scrutinizing every detail. Earlier, Freeze had acted like a clueless bystander, but now he spoke with certainty, almost like he had been expecting this outcome all along. It was as if he had been playing dumb before.
Had it all been an act?
Dean's fingers curled tighter.
"What's going on here, Dr. Fries?"
"As an outsider, you don't know the true horror of the Court of Owls."
Mr. Freeze's voice was low, almost a whisper, as if speaking the name itself might invite danger. His icy blue eyes, dimly glowing behind his cracked helmet, carried the weight of someone who had seen the truth and wished he hadn't.
"They build their nests in the homes of others… silently watching, waiting. No matter where you go, they see everything." His breath turned into mist as he exhaled.
"Gotham belonged to them long before Batman—and it still does."
Dean let out a dry chuckle, the glow of his six eyes flickering slightly. "That's because you let them get into your head." His voice was laced with a mixture of amusement and disdain.
"A bunch of relics playing at being gods, clinging to power they don't even deserve. They couldn't take down Batman, even if they all came at him together." He folded his arms, standing over Freeze like an executioner awaiting a confession.
"Just another group of Gotham's wannabe tyrants, using outdated tricks to stay relevant."
Despite his words, Freeze could tell that Dean was calculating something beneath the surface. Dean was never careless—he might dismiss them outwardly, but inside, he was already devising a way to tear them apart.
Dean exhaled through his nose. "Fine. If the Court of Owls really is behind this, then I'll deal with them the same way I deal with the rest of Gotham's filth." His voice grew colder.
"They're the root of this city's decay, and I was going to deal with them eventually."
In his mind, he was already fitting the pieces together. The Court of Owls had ruled Gotham from the shadows for centuries, thriving off secrecy. In the original timeline, they had managed to instill fear in Batman, not because they were truly stronger, but because they had an edge—a knowledge gap built over hundreds of years. That secrecy had been their greatest weapon, their shield against Gotham's heroes.
But that wouldn't work on Dean.
He wasn't just another detective piecing things together—he was a time traveler. And if there was one thing he never lacked, it was information.
If the Court of Owls thought they could pull their usual tricks on him, they were in for a brutal reality check.
Originally, he had planned to wait. Let Penguin take office as mayor, use him as a pawn, and then wipe them out one by one. But now? They had made the mistake of getting in his way.
That meant only one thing—he'd crush them now.
"But there's still one thing I don't understand, Dr. Fries," Dean said, shifting the topic. His glowing eyes burned through the frost. "From what I know, the Talon assassins aren't supposed to function well in low temperatures. Their bodies shut down in the cold." He gestured around them at the icy, fog-filled room. "This place is freezing. And yet, they were still able to move freely."
A long silence followed.
Dean took a slow step forward, lowering his voice. "That means… they didn't come here against your will." His gaze sharpened. "They came with your permission."
Mr. Freeze's expression didn't change, but Dean saw the slight shift in his eyes—the tiniest flicker of hesitation. That was all the confirmation he needed.
"You made a deal with them." Dean's voice dropped to a whisper, but it was laced with the sharp edge of certainty. "Did it have something to do with your wife?"
The moment the words left his mouth, he knew he had struck a nerve.
Victor Fries' jaw tightened ever so slightly, and for the first time since their conversation started, he averted his gaze. He said nothing.
Silence.
It was a dead giveaway.
Dean narrowed his eyes. So that was it. Nora Fries—the only person in the world Victor had ever cared about. His entire existence revolved around her. It made sense that he'd strike a bargain with the Court of Owls if it meant getting her back.
And yet… despite being backed into a corner, Victor refused to speak.
Even with his spine shattered. Even knowing he was powerless against Dean. Even with his entire future hanging in the balance—he refused to betray whatever secret he was keeping.
Dean sighed, rubbing his temple. "Fine." He crouched down, tying Freeze's hands behind his back with a grip that was far from gentle. "If you won't talk, I won't force you to." His fingers twitched slightly, and with a wave of his hand, he summoned his system storage, tossing every last one of Freeze's cryogenic weapons inside. The frozen pulse guns, the coolant canisters—all gone in an instant.
No more leverage.
Dean hauled Victor Fries up, dragging him like dead weight.
Freeze, despite everything, laughed.
"You think this will work?" His voice was hoarse, but there was something bitterly amused about it. "You want to use me as a bargaining chip to trade for Robin?" He let out another raspy chuckle. "You really think the Court of Owls will trade with you?"
Dean ignored him, pulling the scientist toward the door without hesitation.
"Don't be stupid," Freeze continued. "The Court of Owls doesn't make deals—they only make executions. They have no reason to trade me for Robin." His voice hardened. "Why would they exchange their perfect bait for a crippled, useless old man?"
Dean's steps didn't falter, nor did his grip loosen.
Freeze exhaled sharply, watching him. "You still don't get it."
Dean didn't respond.
Freeze let out a final, tired breath. "They aren't going to negotiate," he murmured. "They're going to kill you."
Dean remained silent.
Then, without looking back, he muttered, "If they try… they'd better succeed."
He continued dragging Freeze forward, disappearing into the icy darkness.
A sharp, rhythmic sound echoed through the air.
Ding. Ding. Ding.
It was faint at first, nearly blending into the eerie stillness of the room, but it steadily grew clearer. The sound of metal tapping against metal.
Dean's muscles tensed. His enhanced hearing pinpointed the source of the noise—it was coming from the staircase behind him.
Without hesitation, he turned around, eyes glowing dimly in the shadows.
Then he saw it.
Perched on the edge of the window directly across from him was a massive owl. Its round, soulless eyes reflected the dim light, and its talons gripped the sill with unnatural stillness. As if sensing his gaze, the owl let out a long, piercing hoot.
A moment later, the air shifted.
A deadly sound sliced through the silence—something cutting through the air behind him at incredible speed.
Dean reacted instantly. His instincts, honed by countless battles, screamed at him to move. Without looking, he threw out his hand, summoning Hoshikudaki into his palm in a flash of motion.
The moment the wooden sword materialized, he swung it behind him in a wide arc.
Clang!
Sparks erupted as metal clashed against wood.
The sheer force of the impact rattled through Dean's arm, but he held his ground. His feet slid back slightly across the icy floor, but he remained standing, his grip tightening around the hilt of his weapon.
His attacker, Talon, hadn't expected him to block the strike.
The assassin had moved silently, using the owl's cry as a distraction. From the moment he launched his sneak attack, it should have been a clean kill. A precise, calculated strike from behind—one meant to slice Dean's throat open before he even knew what hit him.
But Dean wasn't normal prey.
Talon's glowing eyes narrowed slightly beneath his windproof goggles. Realizing his attack had failed, he instantly switched tactics, pulling his blade back and twisting his body into a powerful spinning kick.
Dean barely had time to brace himself.
Thud!
Talon's boot struck him square in the back, sending him stumbling forward. The force was immense, nearly enough to knock him off balance. His police uniform absorbed some of the impact, but the strength behind the kick was undeniable.
Still, Dean refused to fall.
He dug his heels into the floor, gritting his teeth as he forced himself to stay upright. His glowing eyes flashed dangerously.
Talon didn't press the attack.
The assassin had achieved his goal—separating Dean from Mr. Freeze.
Now standing between them, Talon reached down with one gloved hand, gripping Victor Fries by the collar. With an ease that seemed almost effortless, he lifted the scientist onto his shoulder.
Mr. Freeze, barely conscious, didn't struggle. His shattered spine made resistance impossible.
Talon turned his head slightly, his lifeless eyes locking onto Dean.
Then, in a voice devoid of emotion, he issued a warning:
"Outsider…"
His voice was low, yet it carried through the frigid air like a whisper of death.
"Do not interfere in the battle between the Court and Wayne."
He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in.
"This is your final warning."
Then, as if delivering a sentence, he finished:
"Tell Wayne that the Court of Owls has condemned Batman to death."
The words hung in the air, cold and absolute.
Dean's expression remained blank. He stood completely still, unmoved by the threat.
Then, without a word, he raised his sword.
The wooden blade of Hoshikudaki sliced through the air, aimed directly at Talon's throat.
Talon reacted immediately.
With an inhuman level of agility, he dodged sideways in a single swift motion. The attack missed by mere inches, but the glacier behind him did not.
Crack!
The moment the blade struck, the solid ice split in half, deep fissures running through its surface like veins of shattered glass.
Talon didn't so much as glance at the damage.
Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his unreadable eyes reflecting the broken ice.
For a brief second, he seemed to analyze Dean closely—as if re-evaluating his strength.
Then, without a single wasted movement, he turned away.
Dean could feel it—Talon had already decided to leave. He was taking Freeze with him.
That, more than anything, irritated Dean. His voice was low, cold, and dangerously calm.
"Owls… bats…"
He exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around his sword.
"Who cares about you?"
Talon froze for a split second.
Dean's six eyes burned with an eerie glow, his rage simmering beneath the surface. This wasn't the first time he had felt this kind of cold fury.
The last time had been when Manaphy was taken by Vulko.
And now, it was happening again.
"I called Robin here." Dean's voice was deadly quiet, the weight behind it suffocating.
"And I will never allow anything to happen to him."
Talon's grip on Freeze tightened slightly, as if acknowledging Dean's words.
Then, without warning, he raised a gloved hand.
His fingers tore away the windproof goggles covering his face, revealing the true horror of his eyes.
Dean's breath hitched slightly.
Talon's pupils were unnatural—lifeless, yet radiating an eerie, golden glow.
Then, in an instant—
"嗗——"
A blinding flash erupted from Talon's gaze.
Two searing beams of laser energy shot toward Dean at blistering speed.
Dean moved on instinct, twisting his body into a dodge—but he wasn't fast enough. The beams grazed his right shoulder, burning through fabric and searing into flesh.
A sharp, searing pain ripped through him, but he refused to cry out. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to look up.
But when his gaze met the spot where Talon had stood—
He was gone.
The burning scent of ozone filled the air, the acrid stench mixing with the frigid cold. Dean's fingers twitched slightly. His shoulder throbbed from the burn, but he ignored it.
Instead, he let his gaze drop to the charred marks on the floor—clear evidence of what had just happened.
For a long moment, he simply stared.
Then, finally, he let out a harsh, quiet exhale. His voice was low, almost a growl.
"...What kind of owl has laser eyes?"
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