"Strength without restraint is destruction; restraint without strength is surrender."
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The Cave hummed with tension. The massive screen showed still images of the night's events: Joker broken, Harley standing quietly behind King and Gotham's streets eerily still.
Every member of the family was present — armor glistening with rain, masks half-off, faces shadowed by the glow of Oracle's monitors.
The Debate
Dick Grayson leaned against the table, arms crossed. "We all saw it. Joker ran. Joker never runs. Whatever King is, he isn't normal."
Jason scoffed, dropping his helmet with a clang. "Yeah, no kidding. He's a walking nuke. The way he looked at me, I swear he was about to lecture me on table manners again. And worse? I listened."
Stephanie cracked a nervous smile. "Kinda sounds like Gotham needs that. Honestly, watching Harley just… drop the mallet? That was huge. I mean, we've tried, and she just—"
"—is unstable." Tim cut in, sharp and precise. "King didn't cure her. He disrupted her. That's temporary at best. If Joker gets his hands on her again…"
Damian scowled, gripping his sword. "You're missing the point. His restraint is unnatural. He could have killed Father with that strike. He didn't. That choice was deliberate."
Cass didn't speak. She just gestured: one finger, then a fist — strong but still.
Duke frowned. "Okay, but we're glossing over the obvious. He tore open the sky. With a punch. That's metahuman-plus. And we don't even know his origin. He could be alien. He could be a weapon built by Luthor. He could—"
"—be a gift." Damian interrupted. "We've been drowning in monsters for years. Maybe Gotham deserves one of its own, but on our side."
Kate Kane shook her head. "Or maybe Gotham doesn't survive a man who doesn't play by rules. Batman terrifies criminals because they know his line. King doesn't have one."
Jason barked a laugh. "You call lecturing me about etiquette a lack of line? Guy's got more rules than Bruce — he just won't explain them."
Barbara finally cut in from the console. "Look, I've scoured every database. No records. No aliases. He doesn't exist. Which makes me wonder… does he even want to?"
All eyes turned to Bruce. The silence was heavier than the stone walls.
The Judgment
Bruce said nothing for a long while. Then his gravel broke the quiet. "He's dangerous. I don't trust anyone who wields that kind of power and hides their past. He won't be ignored."
The family stirred, but before anyone could argue, another voice cut through. Calm. Steady.
Alfred.
The butler stepped into the circle, tray in hand as though the chaos of gods and monsters were nothing more than a tea spill. "Forgive me, but I believe you're all too close to see clearly."
Jason smirked. "Here we go. Alfred wisdom hour."
Alfred set the tray down, gaze sweeping over them all. "I have watched Gotham devour men greater than kings and spit out broken shells. And yet, this man walks into our mire and does not become filth. He does not kill. He does not exploit. He uplifts. Harley Quinn is proof of that."
Kate frowned. "Or he manipulates."
Alfred's eyes sharpened. " I've seen manipulation. This was… something else. Dignity. A reminder of it. Tell me, when was the last time any of you could silence the Joker with nothing but a heartbeat?"
The silence stretched. None of them could answer.
Finally, Alfred placed a cup of tea before Bruce. "You fear him because you cannot control him. Perhaps, instead, you should consider what it means that he chooses not to control you."
Bruce's jaw clenched. But he didn't speak.
The Conclusion
The family broke into smaller murmurs — debate left unresolved, suspicion gnawing at the edges.
But Damian stayed quiet, staring at the flickering footage of King standing tall in the rain. He whispered, almost to himself, "He doesn't fight for victory. He fights for… something else."
And though no one else heard it, Alfred's lips curved in the faintest, knowing smile.
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