The interior of Shao-La monastery defied every expectation Matt had formed during their brutal climb. Where he'd anticipated ancient stone and flickering torches, he found polished marble floors and walls that seemed to pulse with their own inner light. The air itself felt different here, charged with energy that made the Beast stir restlessly in his soul.
"Impressive," Sandra murmured, her voice echoing in the vast entrance hall. "Not what I expected from a hidden mountain monastery."
The monk who had greeted them, tall, gaunt, with those unsettling ancient eyes, gestured for them to follow. "Expectations are often the enemy of understanding," he said. "Come. The Princess awaits."
Matt caught Sandra's subtle reaction to the title. Princess? In a monastery?
They walked through corridors lined with artwork that seemed to shift and move when he wasn't focusing directly on it. His senses picked up details that shouldn't exist, the sound of wind through chambers that were clearly enclosed, the scent of ocean spray at impossible altitude, heartbeats that didn't quite match human rhythms.
"This place is wrong," he said quietly to Sandra.
"Wrong how?"
"Everything. The acoustics, the air pressure, even gravity feels different." Matt paused, extending his senses carefully. "It's like we're not entirely in the same dimension anymore."
Before Sandra could respond, they arrived at an enormous set of doors carved with symbols that hurt to look at directly. The monk touched one of the carvings, and the doors swung open silently.
The chamber beyond took Matt's breath away. It was massive, easily the size of a cathedral, but somehow still felt intimate. Gardens flourished in impossible patterns across the floor, water flowed upward in spiraling fountains, and at the center sat a woman who redefined everything Matt thought he knew about beauty.
She couldn't have been older than twenty-five, with skin like polished ivory and hair so black it seemed to absorb light. But her eyes held depths that spoke of centuries, and when she moved, it was with a grace that made even Sandra look clumsy by comparison.
"Welcome to Shao-La," she said, her voice carrying harmonics that resonated in Matt's bones. "I am Princess Shao-La von Darragon, though most here simply call me Teacher."
Sandra stepped forward, offering a respectful bow. "I am Sandra Wu-San, also known as Lady Shiva."
The Princess's eyes widened with genuine interest. "Lady Shiva. Your reputation precedes you, even to these remote heights." Her gaze shifted to Matt. "And you are the one she follows. How... intriguing."
"Matthew Gordon," Matt replied, matching Sandra's bow. "Though I've recently taken the name Red."
"Red..." The Princess tasted the name, rolling it around like fine wine. "And what brings Red and the legendary Lady Shiva to my sanctuary?"
Matt sensed this was a test as much as a question. "O-Sensei suggested we might find answers here. About balance. About controlling power without being consumed by it."
"Ah, O-Sensei." The Princess smiled, and the expression transformed her entire face. "That old master still remembers our ancient compact. Good." She studied Matt with those impossible eyes. "But you haven't answered my real question. Why does Lady Shiva follow a blind young man? What makes you worthy of such allegiance?"
Sandra spoke up before Matt could answer. "Because he's more than he appears. Because he killed Ra's al Ghul with his bare hands. Because he turned a group of vengeful assassins into something better through sheer force of will."
"You...really?" the Princess murmured in disbelief. "Show me."
"Show you what?" Matt asked.
"Your power. The thing that makes you different from other men."
Matt hesitated. The Beast had been restless since entering the monastery, responding to something ancient and primal in this place. Releasing even a fraction of its strength could be dangerous.
"I'd rather not," he said carefully.
The Princess laughed, a sound like silver bells and distant thunder. "Wisdom to match strength. Even better." She rose from her seat with fluid grace. "Very well. You may remain as guests while I consider your request for training."
"Just like that?" Sandra asked, suspicion clear in her voice.
"You defeated my guardians without killing them, despite their attempts to harm you. You show respect for power while demonstrating restraint. Most importantly..." The Princess fixed Matt with that penetrating stare. "You carry something ancient in your soul. Something that recognizes this place for what it truly is."
"Which is?"
"A bridge between worlds. A sanctuary for those who exist between human and something more." She gestured toward the gardens. "Rest. We will speak again when you have acclimated to our unique... atmosphere."
As they were led to their quarters, Matt caught Sandra's elbow gently. "You know her?"
"I know of her reputation. Princess of some distant world, gave up a throne to become the galaxy's most sought-after thief and assassin." Sandra shrugged. "I thought it was legend. Apparently not."
Their rooms were simple but comfortable, with walls that seemed to breathe and windows that looked out on views that definitely weren't the mountains they'd climbed to get here. Matt settled onto a meditation cushion, trying to center himself despite the surreal environment.
A soft knock interrupted his concentration. Sandra entered without waiting for permission, carrying two cups of tea that smelled like nothing he'd ever encountered.
"We need to talk," she said, settling across from him. "About this Red Sanctum of yours."
Matt accepted the tea, noting how it seemed to calm the Beast's restless energy. "What about it?"
"You appointed me as your lieutenant back there. I want to know what that means. I may respect and to a degree believe in you Matthew, but I am not an attack dog...What are you planning?"
Matt sipped the tea, considering his words carefully. "When organizations like ours lose their moral center. When the means become more important than the ends." He set down the cup. "It all crashes and burns, I won't let that happen."
"Okay...so what's the plan?"
"Structure. Rules. A code that can't be bent or broken, no matter the circumstances." Matt leaned forward, his voice gaining intensity. "We'll have a council of advisors, people I trust to challenge my decisions when necessary. You'll be the first."
Sandra, while conflicted, nodded slowly. "And recruitment?"
"No children. No one coerced or blackmailed into service. Only volunteers who understand what they're signing up for." Matt's expression hardened. "And extensive screening. Anyone with a history of harming innocents, that shows no remorse, doesn't make the cut."
"That's going to severely limit our candidate pool."
"Good. I'd rather have fifty people I can trust completely than five hundred who might turn on us when things get difficult. Compromise is an investment most ignore."
Sandra set down her own cup, studying him with new respect. "You've thought this through."
"Look at quickly the league feel apart when their dear leader died....that chaos and instability spawned from a lack of moral leadership" Matt's voice carried weight of experience far beyond his apparent years. "The Red Sanctum will be different. It has to be."
"Where and who are our first targets?"
"We will start at homebase..Gotham. Crime families. Human traffickers. Arms dealers who sell to terrorists. Verifiably corrupt officials." Matt's smile held no warmth. "People who deserve what's coming to them."
"Now you sound like the man who killed Ra's al Ghul," Sandra observed with approval.
"That man was always there, even while growing up in Gotham" Matt replied quietly. "I'm just learning to channel him in a way that's best for the most amount of people."
They spent the next hour discussing specifics, training protocols, communication systems, operational security. Sandra found herself impressed by the depth of Matt's planning. He'd clearly given serious thought to building something that could operate globally while maintaining its moral center.
"One more question," she said as they prepared to retire. "Why me? You could have chosen anyone to be your lieutenant."
Matt was quiet for a long moment. "You challenged me, phsycollogically. Because, while your reputation is filled with oceans of blood, you see strength as something to be earned, not taken...." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Because...and I know this sounds insane, but I trust you to tell me when I'm wrong."
Sandra felt something shift inside her chest, an unfamiliar warmth that had nothing to do with the strange tea. "You won't regret this decision...Red."
"I hope not," Matt replied with a slight smile. "Because if I'm wrong about you, we're all in trouble."
As Sandra left for her own quarters, Matt settled back into meditation, processing the day's events. The Red Sanctum was no longer just an idea, it was becoming reality. With Sandra's expertise and Nyssa's resources, they could build something truly formidable. But, he would have guide them and his organization away from the abyss.
The Beast within his soul stirred again, responding to his thoughts of power and purpose. But this time, Matt didn't push it down. Instead, he let it know that their goals were aligned. Justice would be served, but on their terms.
In the morning, their real training would begin. One way or another, they would change the world.
_________________________
Thomas Elliot sat in his penthouse study, surrounded by monitors displaying news feeds from across Gotham. One screen showed footage of Batman and the new Robin taking down Killer Croc. Another displayed crime statistics showing the dramatic reduction in chaos since the Joker's death.
But Thomas's attention was fixed on a different screen, one showing a young man in a red and yellow costume executing a particularly brutal takedown of a fleeing suspect.
"Interesting," he murmured, pausing the footage to study Robin's technique. The boy fought with barely controlled fury, his strikes more punishing than necessary. "Bruce, what have you gotten yourself into?"
Thomas had known Bruce Wayne's secret identity for years, ever since his alliance with the Riddler had revealed the truth about Gotham's Dark Knight. He'd said nothing, content to watch from the shadows as his childhood friend played hero.
But things had changed... The new Robin was reckless, violent, potentially unstable. And Bruce seemed oblivious to the danger he was creating.
Thomas smiled, already formulating plans. He'd been waiting for the perfect opportunity to destroy Bruce Wayne, and it looked like Bruce had just handed it to him.
His goal? Simple, to hurt Batman in the most personal and devastating way possible. Alfred, while an attractive option, wasn't sweet enough...
But the boy... it was perfect.
After all, what was more poetic than being destroyed by the very thing you thought would save you?
Thomas reached for his phone, beginning to dial the first number in a long list of contacts. If Bruce wanted to play with fire, Thomas would be happy to provide the gasoline.
In order to break a man, you first...strike AT HIS HEART!