Gotham's air was never clean. It was always filled with strange toxins from a rogue's gallery of supervillains, the smoke of greedy corporations and God knew what else. Thick, heavy clouds perpetually choked the sky, clouds that probably weren't entirely natural. Yet, despite it all, one thing remained undefeated, humanity's stubborn ability to make light of any situation.
The people had learned to use the cloud cover as a canvas. Powerful lights from rooftops and towers projected brilliant, shifting art shows onto the gloomy night sky. You could see these displays from most parts of the city, except for the space directly above the GCPD. That spot was reserved for a specific light show.
Most citizens were so used to the nightly displays that even the Bat-Signal rarely drew a second glance. This made it easy to spot newcomers and some even said that was how pickpockets and muggers picked their targets.
One young man was not even trying to hide his look of wonder. He was around eighteen or nineteen, his bright green eyes fixed on the heavens. This was Elias.
He continued walking, somehow navigating the crowded sidewalk without collision despite looking up. At one point, a man deliberately tried to shoulder-check him but Elias sidestepped at the last possible moment without even looking.
While his eyes were on the sky, not all of his mind was occupied. His consciousness operated like a radar, constantly sensing the mental signals around him. His focus would occasionally dip into the surface thoughts of those who came too close and read those thoughts. It was surprising how many people wanted to shove the happy-looking stranger and how many were simply irritated by his visible joy. But none of them could touch him, he was always faster.
His tall, lean frame was covered with a plain t-shirt, a worn jacket and durable cargo pants. Every so often, his gloved hand would drift into his jacket, subtly checking the presence of either his hidden combat knife or the snub-nosed revolver he carried. It wasn't a gesture of fear but a simple reassurance that his tools were where they should be. On his back he also had a simple backpack.
A small sigil written on the of his jacket collar glowed for a moment, invisible to normal human's eye. It was a simple spell amplifying psychic connection. Then he felt a familiar mind connect to him.
"Stop touching your weapons." The voice shot directly into his mind. Even in the mental landscape, its age and authority were obvious.
It was the voice of his mentor and the man who had raised him, his father Dr. Alistair Wren.
"Sorry dad." Elias responded mentally. "First time you've let me carry them. I'm excited."
"I don't even know why I permitted it. You don't need them that much outside of active missions."
"Of course I need them." Elias countered. "What if I'm attacked by a criminal or something? How would you feel about me fighting someone unarmed?"
"I am generally against corporal punishment but I will make an exception if you keep acting like that." Dr. Wren's mental voice was dry and sharp.
"Okay, sorry."
"Did you find anything?!"
"I just got here. So, no."
"Try to move faster. And please, attempt to not get distracted by every flickering light."
"I'll try."
He felt the psychic connection sever. With Dr. Wren's presence gone, he had a few moments of freedom to be distracted without an internal critic.
He wandered aimlessly, taking in the bizarre architecture of Gotham. The city seemed deeply committed to its gothic aesthetic, which he had to admit was pretty cool.
He walked through the streets carelessly or it seemed like it, his mind remained sharp. He sensed three minds beginning to tail him, their intentions a blend of aggression and opportunity. He didn't mind. In fact, it made him happy.
He pulled his hands from his pockets and began to focus. His mind reached into that strange, extradimensional wellspring of energy connected to his consciousness, drawing a bit of energy and storing it in his hands. Simultaneously, he used his energy manipulation power to apply pressure, compressing the energy. It would take a few seconds but he probably had the time.
Once he was sure both hands were charged, he turned down a side street, heading for a quieter, emptier part of the city. The alley he chose was a classic Gotham, dirty, a little smelly and lit by a single, flickering bulb. His mental radar also didn't feel people in that area. Perfect.
The three men followed him in. One, a hulking guy with a broken nose, drew a pistol. The other two, thinner and twitchier, brandished a switchblade and a crowbar.
"You lost, kid?" the big guy said.
"No, not really." Elias said with a smile.
"That's good. I love a confident guy." the leader replied. "Now, wallet, phone, jacket."
"Is this like a game? Am I supposed to make a sentence with those words?" Elias asked.
"You want me to rough him up, boss?" the one with the crowbar asked.
"Nah, I got this." The big guy raised the pistol, leveling it at Elias's face. "Take off your jacket, take your wallet and phone out and hand them over. Or my friend here is gonna rearrange your bones."
"Safety's on." Elias pointed out casually, aiming a finger-gun at the weapon from the side. He made sure his finger wasn't pointing toward the guy just the gun.
There was a moment of confusion as the thug glanced down at his firearm. Elias took it. He brought his thumb down like the hammer of a gun and released the stored energy. He used his telekinesis power to put more force on the power, shaped and launched it, sending a telekinetic bullet straight from his finger. It struck the pistol with enough concussive force to not only disarm the man but to shatter the gun's internal mechanisms.
In the stunned silence that followed, Elias fired the second charged shot from his other hand at the ground. The telekinetic bullet tore a small, deep crater right between the big guy's feet. That froze the three forcing them to raise their hands up.
"Hands up, please." Elias said calmly, now holding two finger-guns trained on them. "You were robbing me. So, by the established rules of karmic payback, I am going to reverse that."
"Wh-what?" the leader stammered, clutching his injured hand.
"I'm robbing you back." Elias clarified, his smile never fading. "Now. Wallets, phones, belts. And I like that knife. Hand it over."
The robbers hesitated. Elias sighed internally. He focused his mind on the three and let out a low-powered psychic shriek, just a sharp, painful jolt directly into their synapses. A wave of dizziness washed over him but it was fleeting, vanishing as quickly as it came. The robbers held their heads in pain then looked at Elias in fear.
"You felt that? That was me." Elias said, his voice calm. "I can do a lot worse. So, how about you do what I say and we all get through this with our brains unscrambled?"
Panicked, the three men scrambled to grab their belongings, holding them out with trembling hands. As the last of the psychic dizziness faded, Elias's radar pinged. Someone else was on a nearby rooftop, hovering just at the edge of his range. A watcher.
"Put it all on the ground." Elias instructed, then nodded to the one with the switchblade. "You, add the knife to the pile. I like that knife. You with the crowbar... you can keep it. Looks cheap anyway."
They complied, creating a small heap of wallets, phones, and jackets, with the blade on top.
"I had so many games on that." the knife guy mumbled, looking mournfully at his phone.
"You did? Fine, you can keep your phone." Elias conceded. "Actually, you all can keep your phones. Don't really need them."
The three looked confused but relieved, quickly snatching their devices back.
"By the way." Elias said, his tone shifting to conversational. "You wanna hear something funny?"
The three just exchanged nervous glances.
"I said, do you want to hear something funny? I didn't hear an answer." Elias pressed, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.
"Y...yes." they stammered in unison.
"I didn't charge my hands." Elias said, finally lowering his finger-guns.
"What?" the big guy asked, confusion overriding his fear.
"The finger-gun thing. I need to charge it. I didn't after those two shots. My hands are empty right now."
"Wait... you can't shoot us right now?" the leader asked, a flicker of anger returning to his eyes.
"Right now, with my bare hands? No." Elias confirmed, his smile still plastered on his face.
"You motherfu…" The big guy took two aggressive steps forward but in a blur, Elias's snub-nosed revolver was in his hand, aimed squarely at the thug's chest.
"But I can shoot you now." Elias clarified.
The big guy didn't back away, but he held his hands up. Elias skimmed the surface of his thoughts, a messy, aggressive plan to lunge, disarm him and turn the gun around.
The thug suddenly surged forward, grabbing Elias's wrist and trying to wrench the revolver free. Elias was ready. He let the man struggle for a single, futile moment, his own grip like iron, then used his free hand to jab two fingers hard into the man's eye.
"Ah!" the guy yelped, stumbling back and clutching his face.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" Elias asked, the gun never wavering.
"P-please don't shoot." the big guy begged, his bravado utterly shattered.
"Okay. But now I also want your phone. Just yours. You two can keep yours."
The leader just nodded, tears of frustration in his eyes as he tossed his phone onto the pile.
"By the way." Elias continued, as if they were just catching up. "You guys seen an assassin around? No? How about a giant, flying bat?"
"We have a Batman!" one of them said.
"No, I know that guy. I mean a mutated bat that flies and shits everywhere."
The crowbar guy nodded. "He means Man-Bat."
"That thing shits on people?!"
"No, we haven't." the big guy groaned, still holding his eye. "That thing attacks sometimes but we're never around."
"How about that fear-toxin guy? Scarecrow?" They shook their heads. "You don't know shit. Why do you even live in Gotham if not for this cool stuff?"
"Everything's cheap." the knife guy piped up.
"Oh yeah, you're right. The housing market must be great here."
"It is!" the knife guy said, brightening slightly. "I bought a house with pickpocketing and petty theft, can you believe that?"
"Congratulations, man. That's the American dream." Elias said, genuinely impressed.
"Thanks."
"Hey, we're all chummy now. Can we have our stuff back?" the crowbar guy asked.
"Nope." Elias said, popping the 'p'. "You know what, take your jackets. But leave the wallets."
The three quickly did as they were told.
"So, um... nice weather, right?" the big guy tried, forcing a smile as he put his jacket back on.
"You leave your jacket." Elias said flatly.
"Oh, come on!"
"That was a nice conversation I had with that guy but what you're trying to do is both shitty small-talk and super manipulative. Jacket. Now."
The other two had to hide their snickers as the big guy sullenly dropped his jacket back on the pile.
"Okay, you guys can leave now." Elias announced.
They didn't need to be told twice, scrambling out of the alley without a backward glance.
Elias holstered his gun and turned to his new acquisitions. He focused, using his telekinesis to lift the items. Using telekinesis was a bit hard for him but for small objects, it was manageable.
He first floated the knife to his hand. He tested the edge against his thumb, drawing a thin line of blood. It was sharp. He watched the cut, it healed visibly but not explosive fast, the skin knitting together would be fully healed in a couple of minutes.
Next, he used his power to float the wallets over, open them and extract the cash without leaving finger prints. The bills fluttered in the air in front of him as he counted. About seventy-five dollars. Not bad.
While counting, he tracked the mental signal from the roof. It was moving now, descending to street level with a speed and silence that was impressive. The mind was disciplined, cautious, assessing him as a potential threat but not immediately hostile. Elias felt the presence stop directly behind him.
"How much did you get?" a male voice asked from behind.
"Seventy-five bucks." Elias answered without turning around, still casually floating the money. The man's surface thoughts were calm and analytical. He seemed to know Elias by name and was checking for possible surprise attacks.
"You might want to turn around." the guy said.
"Okay." Elias said amiably. He grabbed the cash by hand and turned.
He recognized the outfit immediately. Black and blue skin tight outfit, a blue bird emblem on the chest, two metal sticks holstered on his back. A domino mask covered his eyes, leaving a nice jawline and a head of black hair exposed.
"Hello." Elias said.
"Hey. Always like a polite criminal." the man replied, his arms crossed.
"I'm not a criminal." Elias stated to pocket his ill-gotten gains.
"I'm pretty sure that was theft."
"I have no clue what you're talking about." Elias said while pocketing the money.
"That was a criminal offense, buddy." Nightwing said.
"You guys do that every day." Elias retorted with a dismissive wave. "Trespassing, assault and battery, breaking and entering, stalking, obstruction of justice. You do it all and you do it to criminals. I just did it to a bunch of criminals, too. See? We're practically colleagues."
"You know who I am?" Nightwing asked.
"Yeah, Nightwing." Elias said, as if it were obvious. "I watch the news. And read. And, you know, browse the internet. You have some… freaky fanbases by the way."
"Do you know why I'm here?" Nightwing pressed, ignoring the comment.
"Wasting time?" Elias said cheerfully.
"We know about you, too, Elias Wren."
"We? Oh, right, the whole Bat-group thing. So, you know who I am. What of it?"
"You've done a lot of… not very legal things." Nightwing stated.
"'Not very legal'? What is that supposed to mean?" Elias asked, tilting his head in genuine curiosity.
"You know, maybe you did some things that aren't exactly legal."
"That's like saying, 'She isn't exactly pregnant.' That's not how it works. Is she pregnant or not?"
"Pregna… okay, hold on, what the hell is…" Nightwing pressed a finger to his earpiece, listening to a voice on the other end. Elias didn't eavesdrop, he didn't feel like the effort.
Instead, he turned back to his loot, using his telekinesis to float the jacket and phone over for inspection. Both were pretty useless. The phone was locked and the jacket was stained and smelled of smoke.
"Hey! Don't just leave, we still need to talk." Nightwing called out.
"I'm not leaving, just checking the loot." Elias assured him, patting down the jacket's pockets. "Oh, shit! This guy actually managed to get someone's phone number! How much you wanna bet it's a fake?"
"Listen, okay, you didn't technically do anything illegal tonight." Nightwing said, steering the conversation back on track. "That's exactly why I'm not here swinging my sticks. I'm here to talk."
"I'm cool with that." Elias said, finally giving Nightwing his full attention.
"What are you and Dr. Wren planning in my city?"
"Finding samples for temporary mutations."
"What now?"
"Temporary mutations." Elias repeated, as if explaining to a child. "You know, inject yourself, get some monstrous traits for an hour or so, not very safe for everyone. I didn't bring any with me this time, though. They always give me terrible diarrhea afterward."
"I… did not need to know that detail." Nightwing said, his nose wrinkling in distaste.
"No but it's important! The way my shit looks, it's…" Elias started, an evil grin spreading across his face.
"No! I don't want to know!" Nightwing cut him off, holding up a hand.
"Sure, have it your way." Elias said with a laugh.
"Okay, what samples are you looking for?" Nightwing asked, visibly refocusing.
"It's a whole shopping list. I'm looking for that Man-Bat thing, his transformation seems like a fascinating unstable mutation. I want some of Scarecrow's fear toxin, Dad's working on a project to safely increase heart rate. And a blood sample from a League of Assassins member would be nice, they live for so long, there's gotta be something they do, right?"
"Batman sent me to see if you were going to be trouble." Nightwing stated flatly. "It seems like you are."
"You could always help me. You know, to make sure I don't cause any problems." Elias suggested.
"That's not how this works."
"How does it work, then?"
"You don't get to go on a hunt. You don't get to roam around Gotham collecting samples for Dr. Wren's crazy science projects."
"We prefer the term 'bio-thaumaturgical experiments' over 'crazy science'." Elias corrected. "And I'm not on a hunt. I'm going to negotiate. Do you think Man-Bat is willing to negotiate?"
As he said the name, he caught the surface of Nightwing's thoughts. Very time he mentioned the Man-Bat, a flash of a monstrous, brown-furred beast, violent and feral, followed by a different, sadder image, a tormented, humanoid bat-faced man.
"I am not joking here." Nightwing said, his voice hardening.
"Neither am I." Elias replied, all traces of humor gone from his eyes. "I always try to be peaceful about gathering information. It's other people who insist on being assholes."
"Look, Elias, we know about you and your dad." Nightwing said. "We know about Wren's record. The monster outbreaks, the unauthorized supersoldier research. The man is a walking bioterror threat. And you're his errand boy."
"All his past work is protected by law." Elias countered. "Besides I have no clue what your point is here considering we cleaned up all that shit."
"Protected by law doesn't makes it a right!" Nightwing's frustration was showing.
"And you not liking him doesn't make him evil."
"The monster outbreak that leveled a city block does!"
"That wasn't our fault and we cleaned it up." Elias shot back.
"Listen, I don't care about your excuses." Nightwing said, stepping closer. "I was sent to give you a friendly warning. If your actions endanger the people of Gotham, you will make an enemy of us. And we will do whatever it takes to make your life a living hell."
"I'll try my best." Elias said, the cheerful mask slipping back into place.
"That's not reassuring."
"Listen." Elias said and for the first time, his tone was utterly sincere. "I don't want people to get hurt. Sometimes, shit happens that's out of my control. But I promise you this, if shit hits the fan, I will do everything in my power to stop it before it reaches any innocents."
Nightwing studied him for a long moment, then let out a slow sigh. "I hope you mean that."
"By the way." Elias asked. "do you know anyone who could help me find my marks? A guide, maybe?"
"No."
As Nightwing turned to leave, Elias pushed one more time. "Is there a... I don't know, a central database you guys use? Someone who connects all the dots?"
For a split second, Nightwing's mental guard slipped. An image flashed in his mind, a young woman in a wheelchair, with eyes behind glasses and a cascade of red hair, goodlooking and a bit geeky. A name surfaced with the image Barbara.
"No." Nightwing said, the word final and sharp. He fired his grapnel gun, the hook shooting upward. In a few moments, he was hauled into the air and onto the rooftop, disappearing.
Elias waved at the empty space where he'd been.
Once alone, Elias looked at his thumb. The cut was fully healed. Without hesitation, he used his new knife to slice it open again, wincing slightly. He caught a few drops of blood and pressed them against a small, intricate sigil etched into the back of his jacket collar.
The sigil glowed faintly as it absorbed the blood, activating. The glow not visible to normal humans, only those with magical powers.
Elias focused his telepathy, channeling it through the sigil. It was a direct line, connecting his mind to an identical one back in his father's lab then to his father's mind.
"Hey, Dad. I've got a name and a face. Sending the image to you now. Can you find her? Her name is Barbara."