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"If you build it, he will come."
- Shoeless Joe Jackson (Field of Dreams)
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<(Omniscient POV)>
Batman moved swiftly through Gotham's shadowed rooftops and tall skyscrapers, scanning the city below with his eyes as if contemplating his next move. The N26 pill had pushed his cognitive function beyond its usual limits, sharpening every instinct, heightening every calculation. Even someone like him—already well beyond human—felt the shift. And now, with that enhanced clarity, he was on the verge of unmasking the traitor inside Wayne Enterprises. The one who sold him out. The one who let David Cain and the Court of Owls into a lab that was supposed to be untouchable.
He had thought of going after Pamela first. The urge to find her had been strong. He had a rough idea of where she was, even what might have happened to her after the attack. But even that—especially that—wasn't enough to overrule the precision of his mind. Logic had cut through emotion like a blade. Based on what he'd pieced together, Pamela wasn't in immediate danger. Whatever had happened... she was still alive. And she'd understand why he had to do this first.
Because the real threat wasn't her situation—it was what had been taken. The diluted Compound V-enhanced xenobots were missing, and if Bruce didn't get them back soon, this world's future was at serious risk. Whatever the thieves were planning with it, it wasn't good. It couldn't be. One doesn't steal something like that to cure the sick.
He'd designed the xenobots with fail-safes. Booby-traps hidden in the code, molecular dead ends meant to backfire if anyone tried to weaponize them. But in the DC Universe, brilliance wasn't rare; geniuses could be found around every street corner like drug dealers simply biding their time for a deal. Someone WILL eventually find a way to make them work.
And even if they didn't, failure didn't make bioweapons less dangerous. After all, look at the Hulk. A "failure" of the super soldier serum—yet in the Marvel world, he was one of the most dangerous beings that could even make gods quake in their boots. Bruce wasn't about to risk that kind of chaos here. No, he would find the traitor, and then he'd break them if he had to. But he would make sure they talked. And once he got what he needed..., he would deliver "vengeance" one way or another.
"Cortana," Batman whispered, "are you done with the task I assigned you?"
"Yes, I am," Cortana responded without delay. "I've been cross-referencing employee movement logs using the parameters you supplied. Based on that, I've isolated a short list of potential suspects. Three names came up. Two have solid alibis—verified to be with their families at the time of the breach. That leaves one: Dr. Anne Carver. She's a licensed psychologist, recently brought on as a contract advisor for select projects involving live human trials... She is the most probable traitor responsible for the sabotage." She explained.
Batman's eyes narrowed beneath the cowl. Every employee that Wayne Enterprises hired was supposed to be vetted thoroughly by a proprietary system he'd built for background checks that wasn't just advanced but was almost surgical. Developed by him, enhanced by Cortana, and supplemented with some of her less-than-sanctioned data channels and digital assets, it was designed to catch everything by analyzing and breaking down every single digital footprint of his prospective employees. It was a blatant disregard of their privacy, yes. But it was necessary since he didn't want exact stuff like this happening on his watch. After all, it wasn't like he was going to sell their data for money or abuse it for some twisted personal pleasure, right?
So, the idea that someone high enough in the chain had slipped through… that he had missed something wasn't just unexpected, it was unacceptable. He had expected the traitor to be some pencil-pushing nobody or a disgruntled security agent who was offered more money than he had ever seen, but definitely not an actual researcher taking part in experiments. Therefore, Bruce intended to correct that failure immediately if possible.
Suddenly, Cortana's voice urgently interrupted, "Bruce, we have an emergency. Arkham Asylum has experienced a mass breakout. Reports indicate that about half of the inmates might be able to escape before the cops could even mount a substantial enough defense."
Batman paused, recalibrating his strategy in an instant. "A prison-breakout out of nowhere? That's surprising... and extremely convenient for the ones responsible for the corporate sabotage at the Conclave, so much so that it almost sounds like it's planned. Well, I guess Cain's desperate," he muttered, already recognizing the incident for what it truly was—a distraction.
And yes, his mind, pushed to the edge of its full efficiency by the N26, had already pieced together the most likely culprit behind the strike on his conclave.
He couldn't be entirely certain since this wasn't a world where logic always held sway—but all the signs he had picked up till now pointed to David Cain. The method, the precision, the pattern, the way he wasn't noticed by a single camera or even his drones patrolling the area... it was his signature. And if Bruce was right—and he was rarely wrong—then Cain wasn't acting alone. He had help. Backing. Someone with reach. Resources. Possibly an entire organization embedded deep within Gotham's underbelly. The Court of Owls, maybe? They fit the profile almost too well.
But even with all that in mind, Bruce couldn't ignore the prison break. If he did, Gotham would be crawling with psychopaths by nightfall. This wasn't just another prison. Arkham didn't house ordinary criminals. It held monsters—people who'd make someone like Pablo Escobar look like a street-level thug.
He knew exactly what this was—Cain's move to stall him, to drag him off the real trail. And it was working. But Bruce didn't have the luxury of ignoring chaos. Gotham had seen progress this past year. His progress. Hard-earned. Fragile. And he wasn't about to let a pack of lunatics tear it all apart. Not now. Not again. He refused to become just another mainstream version of Batman who was locked in an endless cycle of violence with no real outcome to show for it.
So even knowing it was a trap, a calculated distraction... he made the call. Deal with the breakout first. Secure the city. Then get back on Cain's trail—before it vanished entirely and hopefully kill him and every single Court of Owls motherfucker out there like he should have done at the very start.
"Begin tracking every known associate and financial arm tied to the Court of Owls. I want full intel—when they breathe, when they sleep, what they eat for breakfast. Everything. And keep it limited to stealth drones only. As for Dr. Anne Carver, assign one to her as well. If Cain's involved—and he likely is—he's the reason they've been able to avoid our surveillance. The man's awareness is nearly inhuman. Hyper-attuned to his environment. If he warned Carver or any Court operatives about our standard drones, then stealth is the only advantage we have left." Bruce said before clicking his tongue, silently swallowing his anger towards his previous teacher.
"Understood, sir," Cortana acknowledged, though there was a slight pause in her voice. "But... are you certain you want to go alone, Bruce? Maybe it's time to call in backup. According to the most recent report, Arkham Asylum had 4,238 registered inmates. If even half are attempting to escape, that's over 2,100 individuals. Armed mentally unbalanced individuals and hardened criminals."
"You're underestimating me, Cortana," he said with a small chuckle.
"Not even slightly. I'm estimating you exactly right," she shot back. "And just so we're clear, I'm not worried about your physical health or your life. I'm worried about your mental health. Taking on that many unstable, violent criminals, some of them will die. And according to all the online reports and research I have access to, that kind of weight doesn't come off easily. You are tough, but you are still human, at least from where it matters. I don't want to see you spiral down into depression, sir. At the very least, backup could give you someone to lean on. Even Batman needs support now and then."
"...No. I'm not dragging the girls into Arkham. There are things in there that they shouldn't have to witness. Alfred's not field-ready, and Slade's still off on his family trip." He shook his head. "But go ahead and alert the Colony. Have them set up perimeter teams at the major exits and access points. If anyone slips past me... they can clean it up." With that, he engaged the thrusters in his boots and gauntlets, lifting off into the air.
"... Fine," Cortana responded after a beat, just long enough to register her hesitation. "Sir, I know today hasn't been exactly easy on you, but just... don't make it messier than it needs to be."
"Your advice is noted," I said, leveling out in the sky. "But here's the thing you might've missed about me, Cortana—I'm more of an NC-17 kind of guy than PG-13." He smirked beneath his helmet. "So yeah—things are about to get bloody."
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