Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works; all other characters and worlds belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with them.
Betad by
The Guild of Gamers: The Nightmare
Chapter 16: Broken Bird
– Diana Prince (Wonder Woman) –
"I don't get it," Danae admitted as she looked over the unconscious thug. "You said I shouldn't kill, and I didn't, He'll live, and he won't be raping anyone else without his-"
"Danae! You can't just-" Diana started, pausing as she took a deep breath. She'd managed to stop her sword-happy daughter before she'd cut off anything important… this time. "You can't dismember people. It's our job to stop their crimes, not to hand them their sentence. There's an entire legal system to do that."
"This man has been in prison three times. He is no more rehabilitated now than he was when he was first arrested," Danae argued. "Why spare him now so he can hurt more people later? Ugh, fine. Just know his next victim's pain is on your hands."
As Danae put her sword away, moving it from the man's crotch, Diana sighed. Danae was clearly frustrated with the 'illogical' parts of heroism, but in her daughter's defence, she truly was trying. Danae had killed nobody since her arrival, even if they'd had to extend that rule to no dismemberment either.
"It isn't our place to make that call," Diana answered, seeing that Danae was dissatisfied with her answer. Danae, she who judges. Danae was told from birth that it was her place to judge people. She was the judge, jury and executioner for New Themyscira, and found their hesitance to put villains down for good as a sign of weakness.
"This is why you'll lose," Danae finally said, making Diana's frown deepen. "Father says Superman had every chance to rip his head off and end his reign of terror before it had truly begun, but spared him and even saved him from Green Arrow."
"I highly doubt Legion would have truly died there," Diana countered, making Danae giggle.
"Then you don't know him as well as you think. Fear empowers Father, and he didn't have much back then, only known in Gotham. If you'd killed him before Star City, he wouldn't have had a way to come back. Now, he's beyond petty things like death," Danae replied confidently.
"If you're so sure we'll lose, why did you come to meet me?" Diana asked, making Danae beam.
"I'm following Father's example. He takes part in his own games as the survivor, so he can better understand his victims," Danae admitted, uncaring that she was spilling Legion's secrets. Diana paused for a moment, wondering why Danae would tell her that- "You think I'm betraying him? That's funny. Dad doesn't care if you work out his secrets; he told me I can tell you all whatever I want."
Of course he did.
"Why would he not care?" Diana asked, making Danae shrug.
"It's more interesting if you work out his secrets. He gets bored easily," Danae replied confidently before she paused, perking up. "I can sense a burst of fear and greed nearby. Mugging, I think. Not… intense enough to be a murder."
Diana nodded, following her daughter as she guided her toward the crime. She held back as Danae moved in, watching as her daughter moved with incredible speed and precision. The mugger barely realised he was under attack before he'd been disarmed (not literally, thankfully) and pinned to the ground.
Danae did share some of her father's powers, including the ability to sense negative emotions that made her an incredible bloodhound for crime. It made her all the sadder that Legion chose the path he had.
As they continued their patrol, she had to admit that she was rapidly growing fond of her daughter, even with Danae's questionable morality. Danae really was trying to play the part of the hero, despite her distaste for their 'weakness'. She could see much of Aresia in Danae, without the man-hating extremism.
But she also had to face facts, she was making no progress in turning Danae over to their side. Her adoration for her father was unmatched, and she was out of her depth. She needed help, and there was only one person she could think of. It was time to take Danae to Themyscira to meet her grandmother. She needed her mother's wisdom now, more than ever.
"Sister," Donna called out, getting her attention as she returned her home. Danae perked up, happy to see her 'Auntie', and Diana had to admit she was almost jealous of how close the pair had grown. Donna gave Danae a one-armed hug, ruffling the younger girls hair. "You know why I'm here."
"Mother has grown impatient?" Diana asked with an almost amused sigh. "I know. I was planning to contact her today."
She'd sent Cassie away while she spent time with Diana, which Cassie had not been impressed with, but Legion's habit of targeting sidekicks had sent her into a panic. She didn't want Cassie to go through what she did, or worse, what Green Arrow and his allies had been subjected to. At least she was freed at the end, which was more than most could say. Something told her sparks were going to fly when Danae and Cassie met in Themyscira.
"Impatient is one word for it, yes. She hasn't ordered you to return, but she might as well have," Donna admitted with a dry chuckle.
"I was already planning on taking Danae home, to learn of her origins," Diana admitted, making Danae perk up as Donna nodded.
"Aunt Circe and Aresia told me a lot about Themyscira. I won't deny that I've been looking forward to seeing it for myself," Danae said, making her and Donna share a look at Danae referring to two villains as her 'aunts'.
"I'm sure your father has been as well," Donna said darkly, making Danae blink.
"No? He's already seen it. How would he have made New Themyscira if he hadn't been to the original?" Danae asked, her simple question sending a cold shock through both of them. She'd quickly learnt that Danae was not a liar, she saw no point in it, so she believed her daughter, but that meant-
Legion's powers were strange and unknown to them, but could he truly have penetrated the defences of her home, with nobody noticing? Either way, she wanted to return to her home more than ever. If Legion knew where Themyscira was, if he could get inside, she needed to be with her people. He'd openly admitted he had plans for her people before. Danae seemed amused by the spike of fear she could sense, rolling her eyes in a very teenage way.
"Danae, pack your things. We leave for Themyscira in the morning, first thing," Diana ordered, making Danae nod with a small, excited smile, rushing to her room as she turned back to Donna, knowing her sister well enough to know when she was holding things back.
Donna paused, waiting for Danae's bedroom door to close before she sighed.
"It isn't mother who is impatient. She was willing to wait for you to bring Danae on your own terms, but she went to the temple and came back demanding you return immediately," Donna admitted, her voice whisper quiet.
The Gods had demanded that Danae be brought to Themyscira?
Diana felt a shard of worry stab into her chest, but for whom she wasn't sure. Her island, her daughter or herself. Perhaps all three combined, because she, of all people, knew how much the Gods could meddle. Drawing Legion's attention to the divine realm could only end poorly for everyone involved.
No matter what happened, Danae was a daughter of Themyscira. Even if she didn't know it herself yet.
– Markus Grey (Legion) –
Lounging in my chair, I watch the chaos that is engulfing Gotham with a smile. Carmine was more eager to accept my gift than I originally expected, but I suppose I did push him to the brink, didn't I?
With his family dead, his gang on the brink of destruction, he clung to any lifeline that was thrown his way. Needless to say, Batsy has been a busy boy with the chaos that comes from Falcone and his top men all suddenly gaining a variety of powers.
Carmine can transform into a ten-foot-tall grey-skinned creature of bulging muscles, as the Penguin learnt when the giant monster burst through the front doors of the Iceburg Lounge and ripped his enforcer into pieces. Honestly, I didn't know what each vial did so it's funny to see the usually composed, smug mafia boss running around on all fours ripping peoples limbs off and eating them.
Yeah, the vials have some teeny-tiny mental effects, because what good are powers if you don't get the right type of mental illness to go with them? He passed a few of them out to his top men, like his lieutenant, or whatever the mafia equivalent is, who can turn into a shadow creature and travel through darkness, but now has a deathly fear of being seen.
There's the one who can turn into anyone, copying their memories and skills, who has lost their own sense of self. Sure, these are test vials, but the tests have been extremely positive so far.
The Black Mask and the Penguin have teamed up to deal with the new threat of Falcone, and my little game with the Green Arrow and his little Arrowlets has properly convinced the out-of-town heroes to fuck off and stay fucked off. Even Big Blue himself hasn't made an appearance. I wonder if the guilt is tearing him apart.
If he helps, I'll turn my attention to Metropolis, and the destruction of Star City is still on everyone's mind. If he doesn't, Gotham suffers. Maybe a little too much, because Falcone is going to win this little war too fast with a dozen powered thugs on his side.
And where is the fun in that?
Don't get me wrong, dear old Batsy is doing one hell of a job. Memes aside, the man is incredibly efficient and he's captured half of them already, transporting them out of town. I think they're using the Phantom Zone as a holding cell, or maybe they're waiting to see if I'll take the bait and try to free them. If I succeed, they get to know another piece of my powers and how they work. If I fail, they learn that the Phantom Zone would hold me and that I can't free people they lock in it. Either way, they win, right?
As if I'd care enough to free some mafia officer. It's not my problem if Falone gives the vials I so kindly left to him. The funniest part is that Bats has already recovered the crate. I gave Falcone forty-two vials, and he barely used fifteen before Bats tracked them down and absconded with them.
Like I said, the man is very good at his job. I'd tip my hat to him, if I wore one.
…he's a little too good. I don't want Falcone to plunge the city into complete chaos and, god forbid, win and end the fun, but I also don't want Bats to end the test so early.
Neo's waving attracts my attention, making me blink at her wild gesturing. The moon. Flapping wings. Choking herself…
Oh, yeah. Nightwing is about to die. That should distract Bats enough for the fun to continue. Plus, can't forget dear old Deadshot on his mission to save his daughter from the vile clutches of Legion.
Even if Nightwing and Alfred survive, it should still provide quite the distraction for him.
Looking over the game reports, I chuckle to myself. Dollhouse has passed her hundredth 'Doll', or the hundredth she's found worthy of keeping for herself, at least. Her actual kill count is way higher. Thea is still my adorably efficient serial killer, with one of the lowest escape rates of all the killers, myself included.
Neo and I play around too much. Thea doesn't toy with her prey.
Carrie is working her way up the killerboard, and Cheetah is enjoying hunting in her new jungle now that Danae doesn't need watching so often. Circe is just lounging around New Themyscira, since Danae picked her to rule in her stead, even if it's only Black Canary, Aresia and Moira Queen at the moment. All three of which are pregnant with the firstborn Amazonians of New Themyscira, of course, and won't be going anywhere until they've given birth to at least a dozen or so new Amazonians.
"Neo, I think it's time," I finally say, making her perk up at my grim tone. "Bring out the wheel."
Clapping, she fetches our newest weapon against the forces of good. The giant wheel is brought out as I look over the tool of fate and destiny, the mystical artefact that will decide the very fate of the-
Snorting, I re-compose myself as I look over the giant spinning wheel, the names of various half-baked plans and schemes written on it in crayon. Neo claps her hands, her Legion outfit replaced with a very revealing bright pink bunny outfit as she prepares to spin the wheel.
How can the heroes predict our actions when we're leaving it all up to chance?
"Go on, I know you've been excited," I say, making Neo beam and bounce on the spot, making her barely covered body do some interesting things. Hey, I can't touch but I can certainly look. As she spins the wheel, we both watch as she spins it way too fast, the shabby materials breaking and the wheel falling to the floor.
We pause for a moment, before Neo giggles and I facepalm. Yeah, we should have seen that one coming. Legion, ladies and gentlemen. Clicking my fingers, I reform the wheel out of materials more sturdy than whatever was nearby when we got the idea, and I watch as she spins it a second time. The sheer force she puts behind the spin makes it swirl at incredible speeds, making me slightly dizzy as I shake my head and watch it start to slow.
The ticking sound makes me bounce in my seat slightly, excited to see what we'll be doing next. We've put hundreds of options on the list, the names of heroes and villains, schemes and locations. One of the options just says 'werewolves?' and another says 'freeze the ocean'.
Do we have a plan to actually achieve those goals? Not really, but we're flexible.
As it slows, I pause.
"Huh. Zombies, again?" I ask, making her shrug. "Eh, works for me. Grab the map, let's see who our lucky hosts will be this time."
I've learnt a lot since our little game in Star City, and the zombies will be a lot better this time. Wait, what happens if I force one of the power vials down the throats of a zombie?
…I share a look with Neo, and she nods, running off to grab one of our leftover zombies. Placing the large map on the wall, I grab one of my daggers and lazily throw it over my shoulder, turning and seeing that I hit… the middle of the ocean.
Yeah, that makes sense. Water is like 70% of the Earth or something like that.
The second knife hits Kenya, as Neo manhandles the Alpha Zombie, and I grab a handful of power vials, and we get to work. It struggles a little, but Neo helps by removing its jaw as we simply uncork the vials and force them down its throat, giving me a high five as we toss the rapidly mutating zombie through the portal.
It's always nice to have someone on the same wavelength as you.
"Go grab some more, we've got a bunch of vials left over. I'm pretty sure drinking more than one is fatal, but… well, they're already dead, so maybe it'll be fine?" I say, making her shrug as she fetches the next.
Her gesturing makes me pause, seeing her gesture wildly at the map before I shrug and agree.
Works for me. It does seem unfair to let Kenya have all the fun. We'll drop the next one on… Zimbabwe. Mostly because it's just a fun word to say. Zimbabwe. Heh, Zombabwe. What's even in Zimbabwe? Africans, presumably. Maybe it has lions? I kinda want a lion. I mean, we have Dex-Starr, but he's not a very friendly pet on account of the overwhelming murderous rage.
What would happen if we fed a lion a power vial?
No, I shouldn't. Animal testing is so unethical-
Getting my laughter under control again, we continue our scientific experimentation in comfortable silence (aside from the occasional undead groaning or bloated corpse explosion). Note to self, multiple different transformation powers do not mix well in the same body.
It turns out we're not very good at science, but power crafting is really more of an art anyway.
– Richard 'Dick' Grayson (Nightwing) –
To say Legion had sent the League into a frenzy would be an understatement.
Heroes lost.
It was a simple truth. One thing they all knew. Being a hero meant risking your life every day. Even if you were careful, even if you were the strongest, you were one bad day away from losing your life.
His mind went to Jason, and the pain that his death caused. His revival and return as Red Hood hadn't removed the suffering his death at the hands of the Joker had caused, and Bruce never really recovered.
Heroes fell as well. Sometimes they saw too much and became villains, like Jason almost did. It wasn't anything new. Sure, it was rare, but it wasn't unheard of.
But Legion? What he did was on another scale entirely, and it had sent a wave of fear, anger and disgust through the hero community. What Green Arrow experienced wasn't just a loss; it wasn't him slipping into villainy.
It was a targeted dismantling of everything Oliver Queen ever loved.
His city gone. His sister turned into Legion's attack down. His sidekick broken and butchered. His mother enslaved and broken. His lover defiled and captured. His unborn child taken from him. It was no wonder he broke in the end, Legion took everything bright in Oliver's life and plunged it all into darkness. It was brutally efficient and effective in a way that no other villain had ever managed.
All that was left of Green Arrow was Artemis, and she was terrified. She came so close to meeting the same fate as Thea or Roy. He was meant to help guide the team of younger heroes, but how could he comfort Artemis? She'd escaped remarkably unscathed, but the survivor's guilt, the very real dread at what was so nearly her fate… it was destroying her, and he didn't know how to help. She wasn't even a real sidekick; Green Arrow just gave her some tips and training, and that was enough for her to be grabbed.
So while everyone hated Legion, while everyone decreed his actions… so many heroes found themselves hesitant to go anywhere near the world's newest major villain. They stuck their heads in the sand and prayed that Legion would be satisfied with Gotham, that he'd never look their way. Las Vegas had literally exiled Zatanna for her part in hunting Legion, banning her show and kicking her out of the city out of fear that Legion would follow her home.
As for Blundhaven? Bludhaven was used to the worst. They saw Legion turning his attention their way as an inevitability, and faced it with the apathy of someone living in hell on earth. They'd even had some people vanish, and nobody particularly cared.
It was Legion's newest game. He was kidnapping terminally ill people from across America and offering them a chance to win a cure for their illness. If they refused, he let them go, just like that. Very few refused. The one winner so far had been cured of their cancer, and people knew that as bad as he was, Legion kept his promises. Legion had so much power and potential, and he was using it for sick game shows and spreading utter anarchy.
It made him sick, doubly so when he considered how many people idolised Legion. The man was a deranged serial killer. Whatever his powers, whatever his motives, his actions spoke far louder. The blood on his hands couldn't be washed away.
As the doorbell rang, he let out a sigh and closed his laptop as he moved over to the door. Despite everything, he hesitated to check through the peephole. He'd helped Bruce try to take down Legion at Ivy's lair; he'd placed a target on his back. He wouldn't even be surprised if Legion were on the other side.
As he opened the door, it was just a little more violent than usual, his posture tense and his face scowling that infectious Batscowl they all picked up from spending time with Bruce. Kori tilted her head, amused at his actions as he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
"Is now a bad time, Dick?" Kori asked, her voice soft and understanding, as he ran a hand through his hair with a dry chuckle before he pulled her in for a soft kiss. It didn't stay soft, but nothing ever did with Kori.
"No, of course not," Dick promised, pulling her inside. He couldn't help peering down the corridor, looking both ways as if he was expecting to see Legion just standing there. Kori had been the one to suggest another indoor date night to help take their mind off things. Bruce wouldn't approve, but he'd never done things the exact same way as his father figure. "You look amazing."
Kori giggled, doing a little spin. She hadn't dressed up, dressed in just a pair of denim jeans and one of his old t-shirts that was struggling to contain her chest. Somehow, he preferred her like this to how he looked when she got fully dolled up for their more 'proper dates', but then dating in public was hard when his girlfriend was bright orange. Another thing Bruce pointed out threatened his secret identity.
It took every inch of Dick's maturity not to bring up Selina or Talia during that lecture. Bruce did truly care, but paranoia was his way of life. Jason's death multiplied that tenfold, and Legion's arrival had squared it.
As their night started, he let his fears fade away just for this moment. Legion was still out there, doing who knows what, but there were always villains out there. Every night he relaxed before Legion, he was doing so knowing the Joker and dozens of other villains were causing chaos in both Gotham and later Bludhaven. He refused to treat Legion differently.
Chinese take-away, one of the old sci-fi movies Kori found so funny, and the quiet company let him forget the nightmare waiting in his future, just for a moment.
It moved the same way it always did, his old t-shirt tossed away as she kissed him. Kori had always been a very physical person. She claimed it was part of her culture, but the only other Tamaran he'd met had been Blackfire. Well, Kori's sister had been physical but in a more 'break your limbs' kind of way rather than Kori's more affectionate style.
Kori literally flew them to the bedroom, making him laugh despite the tiny risk that someone saw through one of the open windows, tossing him onto the bed as she worked her denim jeans down her sinfully long legs. His own clothes were a lost cause, ravaged by Starfire's passion, not that he cared.
With the benefit of hindsight, he should have been suspicious when Kori guided his head between her thighs. She always preferred giving to receiving, but he'd never deny her anything, and he thought nothing of it as he obliged her. It was no cruel fate to be between Starfire's legs, after all.
Her thighs clenched against his head, and in that very second, the moment faded, and he remembered the reality. Starfire had been there at Ivy's lair as well. She was just as likely to be targeted. As her thighs tightened against his skull to the point of pain, he knew she had been. Legion didn't go for the hero directly. He targeted what they loved first.
His cry of her name was muffled by her body, and her strength far exceeded his as he tried to free himself from the deadly leglock, her hand in his hair, her thighs crushing together with devastating force. He felt the blood start to leak, staring up into her glowing green eyes as his lover stared back at him with a blank expression. All his training was useless in the face of her strength; no flailing or acrobatics able to free him as he felt his eyeballs close to bursting.
The sound of creaking and cracking made him truly panic, knowing what was about to happen. Legion had killed him with the one weapon he'd never have suspected, no matter how much Bruce tried to drive paranoia into his every being.
He saw some semblances of realisation in Kori's eyes, but her body defied her as the tightness grew more and more, and as he felt her tense, he made up his mind.
"It- t-this isn't your fault."
Then, he knew no more.
– Bruce Wayne (Batman) –
He'd been here before, looking down at Jason's broken body.
It didn't make it any easier as he stared down at Dick's headless corpse. The naked Starfire was inconsolable, sobbing and gasping for air as Superman, the Flash and Martian Manhunter stood nearby, Superman trying to comfort her while they all remained on guard. She was compromised, Dick's brain matter and skull fragments coating her legs.
He told Dick to go to the Watchtower with the Team, or to come back to the Batcave. Dick refused, and he'd allowed it. Dick was too old for him to be ordering his former Robin around, and he trusted that Dick would take the necessary precautions. He hadn't.
Even his first and possibly greatest protege hadn't treated this situation seriously enough.
"Bruce," Superman started, before trailing off. Clark meant well, but they both knew that words were worthless in this situation. Instead, Clark placed a single hand on his shoulder. Bruce didn't brush it off as he had many times in the past.
Legion was accelerating. Vixen had barely managed to even reach her home continent before Legion struck again. The man wasn't satisfied with starting a second zombie outbreak, claiming another hero's life before the night ended.
In his head, he had made the mistake of doing what so many others did. He compared Legion to the Joker. The Joker, for all his insanity, rarely truly accelerated or escalated. Not to this scale. He put Legion in the same category as his main villain, and this was the price.
He'd underestimated the Joker once, and it cost him Jason.
He'd underestimated Legion today, and it cost him Dick.
He should have let Oliver kill Legion.
– Lex Luthor –
Sitting in his office, he considered everything that had happened lately.
Legion was truly a force of chaos, in ways that the Joker never really managed to be. Sure, the Joker made plans difficult when he was involved, but it was rare than any larger schemes had to be changed to adapt to the Joker and his small-time sadism. The Joker was a gnat, annoying but not dangerous.
Legion changed the entire game, for seemingly nothing but their own amusement. Somehow, he knew the Joker was seething in Arkham at being upstaged at his own game.
He cared little for Legion's 'games', beyond the potential of the immense power Legion showed and misused within his realm. He cared little for Legion's random acts of violence. He did care that Legion took it upon himself to inform the Justice League about the clone of Roy Harper, but that plan had always been a long shot anyway, and Green Arrow wasn't around to take offence to his kidnapping of the sidekick.
But no, what he found the most interesting was the way that Legion refused to even play along with the game heroes and villains played. He gave no care for the secret identities, exposing and abusing the real names of his victims without a care.
Barbara Gordon's exposure as Batgirl and Oracle had been mildly amusing, but no. It was never going to be anyone from the… batfamily that got his attention. Lois Lane, the girlfriend of Superman. Jonathan Kent, the father of Superman. Martha Kent, the mother of Superman.
Legion exposed their connection to Superman without a care in the world, and yet Lex found himself… disappointed as he dug deeper and deeper into the life of Clark Kent, Kal-El, or whatever else he wanted to call himself.
A farmboy. A mediocre reporter.
This was Superman? Comparing the two side-by-side revealed how far Superman took his act, the hunched stature to change his height, the meek mannerisms, the altered hair and overly large glasses, but his program was able to confirm what Legion had claimed.
Superman was Clark Kent. Maybe he hadn't wanted to believe it. That his nemesis could be so… bland. Every single thing about Clark was mediocre. His writing was juvenile, his apartment was pathetic, his interests were bland at best.
How much time had Superman wasted on such a pathetic act? It disgusted him. If he had the kind of power that Superman, or even Legion, friviously wasted, the world would be a far greater place.
And yet, Legion's exposure of Superman's secret identity had only made matters worse for those the Justice League deemed villains. With his secret identity ripped away, Superman no longer pretended to be this mild-mannered, bumbling reporter. Now, he was Superman constantly and with their failure to take down Legion, the Justice League sought to crush the villains they could handle with greater force.
They still searched for him for his part in Red Arrow's replacement, with Waller throwing him under the bus, utterly unsurprisingly. Vandal found Legion's actions too entertaining and prevented the Light from doing anything to stop the lunatic, but until Legion was brought under control, matters would only spiral further into chaos. It was no wonder Klarion was having such a good time.
Looking over his plans, he scowled at how many of them would need to be reworked to adapt to the rapidly changing hero scene. Legion was an annoyance on a scale that the Joker could only dream of being, and-
As he heard the sound behind him, he acted in an instant, drawing a high-tech pistol and spinning to face the intruder. The smiley-faced mask of Legion stared back at him as he unloaded, firing three shots into the female Legion's skull without a hint of hesitation.
The blood poured down her white mask, but she just stared back at him, that grinning face unchanging as she dashed toward him, slamming her… umbrella into his stomach, making him bend over as the air escaped him. A knee crashed into his descending face, his nose breaking as something hit the back of his head and slammed him into the floor of his underground office.
As he was rolled over, she looked down at him in amusement, one foot on his throat as he struggled under her supernatural strength, glaring up at her.
Blowing him a kiss, she pulled her foot up and slammed it down on his face, his vision darkening.
"Neo, I told you to play nice with him," Legion's voice scolded as Lex clung to his consciousness. He couldn't see the mute woman's response, his vision blurred as her hands moved through a game of sadistic charades. "Eh, good point. I should have been more specific. Nice for you and nice in general are two different things. At least you didn't stab him too much. Man, he really is super fucking bald, huh?"
He really hated Legion.
"I heard that. Neo, kick him again."
The force of the second blow was far greater, and far lower as he let out a pained whimper, feeling her high-heeled foot collide with his manhood with terrifying force. His eyes bulged, and he felt something… burst as his vision went white from the sheer pain.
"Nice. Huh, he's still conscious? Stubborn little fucker, isn't he? Eh, fuck it. We can heal him later. Start stabbing."
— Bonus Scene — Alfred Pennyworth
As the butler to the Wayne family, he had experienced many things that most regular servants would not face in their everyday lives, even before Master Bruce decided the best way to deal with his trauma involved dressing up like a bat and beating people up in dark alleyways.
Simply put, he had been through a lot and had much life experience, as his elderly look would suggest.
Amongst his massive collection of experience and skills were such necessary talents such as brewing the perfect tea, scolding the man who terrified villains with a glare, and… spotting snipers.
With a grace that his elderly body took offence to, he dove away from the large glass window at the last moment, years of experience kicking in to save his life as the round struck the bulletproof glass and pierced it. His aged heart pounded as he took cover behind a pillar. That was no common sniper, if it was able to so easily pierce the glass that Master Bruce had installed as part of his endless preparations.
Master Bruce was away, even as he raised the alarm, and the only other person in the building was young Lady Barbara, skulking in the Batcave in a very Bruce-like manner. He knew the alarm had already been sent out the moment the glass broke, and for a moment he cursed the floor plan of the extravagant Wayne Manor. Master Bruce hadn't been able to completely remodel it into the fortress he'd prefer, having to keep up appearances, and he was caught between two large windows. The nearest secret passageway was in the next room, as Master Bruce had arranged plenty of escape routes, but the door was in clear line of sight of the sniper.
Whoever was currently trying to ventilate his skull knew what they were doing. They'd picked the ideal spot to fire from, and his mind rushed over the many enemies of both Master Bruce and Batman.
The end list had three dozen potential assassins; such was the life of Bruce Wayne.
With Barbara on the grounds, he couldn't deny the shiver of fear he felt for the young crippled girl who had already been through so much. With Master Richard's tragic fate, it did not escape his deduction that this could be an attempt on her life while Master Bruce was drawn to Blüdhaven. It had Legion's handiwork all over it, though perhaps he was borrowing some of Batman's infamous paranoia.
He let out a small sigh of relief as metal shutters slammed down over the windows. That was not a security system he had been aware of, but then Master Bruce was constantly improving the mansion's many defences in the event of an attack. Even still, he wasn't taking any chances.
Crawling to move under the windowsill, he knew he'd be feeling this one in the morning, should he be feeling anything at all. He was far too old for this kind of thing. The second shot let him confirm that this was no ordinary assassin, the round striking the outside of the wall not far from him and exploding, sending him flying away from the wall he'd been trying to crawl next to. His head swam, pain flooding his every sense as his ears rang as he was violently flung across the room.
A hot, tearing sting bloomed across his left side. Shrapnel. He could feel the warmth of blood soaking into his shirt. It was a familiar but unwelcome feeling. Whoever this was, they came prepared, and they weren't taking any chances. The mental list of potential targets was shortened to less than five, as he took in the sheer power of the blast. Again, that was no ordinary explosive round. Whoever this was, they came equipped.
He knew things were out of his hands. The wall collapsed by the sheer force of whatever high-tech round had hit it. He was exposed, directly in the line of sight as he looked toward a hill from which he was certain the sniper was perched.
Despite his advanced age, his eyes were as sharp as ever, and he saw the figure silhouetted by the moonlight long before they landed with a crash, causing an explosion of earth on the hilltop. He clung to his consciousness as he heard the sound of a wheelchair approaching, spotting Barbara and her wide eyes and pale face.
"Got the shooter!" a peppy but concerned voice said, as she flew through the hole with someone tossed over her shoulder.
"G-good evening, Miss Kent. I do wish you'd have called ahead so I could have prepared you some refreshments," Alfred coughed up, a mouthful of blood staining his shirt as Barbara leaned down and stabbed something into his neck, the pain receding.
"Just hold on, Alfred, help is on the way. And thanks for the help, Kara. I know you took a chance, slipping away from your cousin," Barbara said, her voice clearly worried as he felt whatever she injected him with doing its work. The Justice League did have access to some wonderful medicine, and the pain was rapidly fading.
Ah, Miss Gordon also inherited some of Bruce's paranoia and took her own precautions. How very like her mentor, and yet how very different. Bruce wouldn't have asked for help, but Barbara did not share that flaw.
As he felt himself being moved, he got a glimpse of the badly injured Deadshot and his mangled sniper, wondering what prompted this attempt on his life. Despite his self-control, he could only hold on for so long, and he finally passed out.
Author's Note: One day, Markus will meet Taylor Hebert and the multiverse will spontaneously explode.
Written: 08/05/2024