The Blood Pool treatment method was considered outrageous and abominable in ancient times.
But in the modern age, things were much easier.
No need to slaughter villages or raze cities just to collect blood—hospital blood banks had plenty of fresh stock. As long as you paid, there were even unemployed people fighting each other for the chance to donate.
Blood coagulates quickly, of course.
Back in ancient Egypt, the solution was wasteful and exhausting—burning endless firewood to keep the pool warm.
Nowadays? Much simpler.
Just wrap resistance wires around the pool and flip a switch—constant temperature achieved.
"Undress her and put her into the pool."
Thea tested the temperature—it was just right—then gestured for Batman to stop spacing out and get Talia inside already.
"Me?"
Batman blinked. He was used to giving orders, not receiving them. He usually had everyone spinning in circles. Being bossed around for once threw him off. Looking left and right—everyone here except Damian was female—he reluctantly accepted that he really was the most suitable candidate.
Thea knew this kind of opportunity didn't come often.
Naturally, she made sure to boss Batman around as much as possible.
"These are Egyptian hieroglyphs?"
Batman gently placed Talia into the blood pool, then examined the carvings on the walls.
"That's right. Calling it a spell isn't fully accurate—this is closer to a ritual."
Thea infused magic into the wall inscriptions. Once the walls fully lit up, the blood in the pool began to move slowly, forming the beginnings of a vortex—its center being the unconscious Talia.
Thea walked to the control panel and powered up the heating system.
"Maintain this temperature. The blood will stimulate her natural recovery. Change the entire pool in three days.
Are you planning to stay here, or…?"
"I'll return to Gotham and come back in three days."
Batman looked at this bizarre blend of ancient ritual, medieval magic, and modern technology. It made no sense—but Talia's condition had visibly improved. He quietly relaxed, left Barbara and Damian behind, and flew back to Gotham alone.
"Bruce… maybe I'm getting old and deaf, but are you telling me to repair a temple in Turkey under your name and Wayne Enterprises' name?"
Lucius Fox, wearing the most bewildered expression, stared across his CEO desk at Bruce Wayne.
"You understood correctly, old friend…"
Bruce—back in a suit instead of the Batsuit—felt his face twitching. But a promise was a promise. As someone who kept his word, he had to follow through.
A week had passed since Thea began healing Talia. Bruce's instruments confirmed her gradual improvement. Talia had even woken up two days earlier—they had exchanged a few words as a family. His debt to Thea had become overwhelming. Even if he had wanted to brush this off, now he had no choice but to treat it as his own mission.
Thea had already secured channels in Turkey. Several local officials were overjoyed after receiving massive payments.
Anything that let them tear down national heritage while lining their pockets? They loved it!
The Prime Minister—the one official with a shred of patriotism—only agreed after confirming they wouldn't build a base or station troops there.
In summary:
"Do whatever you want publicly. Our government saw nothing, heard nothing, and has absolutely no relation to what you're doing."
With Turkey settled, the next hurdle was convincing the U.S. government while Bruce served as the scapegoat.
Even Batman—with the highest IQ on Earth—knew that stepping forward himself would bring one tidal wave of criticism after another.
But seeing a healthy Barbara, a smiling Gordon, and Talia recovering in Star City alongside Damian…
He felt it was worth it.
What was a little humiliation? He had plenty to spare.
Determined, Bruce headed straight to Wayne Enterprises to consult Lucius on how to push this through.
"So that place has new energy buried beneath it?"
Lucius lowered his voice.
"No…"
Bruce shook his head. It was just rocks. Unless rocks suddenly generated electricity, there was nothing there.
"Then some world-ending weapon? An ancient superweapon?"
Lucius, thinking of Bruce's other job, began filling in fantasy details himself.
"Sorry. I scanned it with three types of radiation and two spectrums. There's nothing there."
Bruce's forehead nearly split into three black lines.
Did Lucius think he hadn't considered that? He had used every scientific method available. It was just barren land visited by tens of thousands of tourists a year.
Lucius rubbed his bald head.
Not energy.
Not weapons.
Then why the hell—
Are you here to mess with me first thing in the morning?! Even if you're my boss, I should still yell at you!
Seeing his displeasure, Bruce explained that Talia and her child had been hidden away, and only recounted Gordon and Barbara's ordeal.
Lucius knew about Gordon's suffering—and learning that Barbara was alive and well genuinely made him happy. But knowing that the responsibility originally meant for Gordon had somehow ended up dumped on him… that was depressing.
Still, he understood the stakes.
If Gordon showed up, his career would be destroyed.
If Wayne Enterprises took the hit, the "damage" was spread across thousands of people.
For one man, it was fatal.
For a corporation, it was a haircut.
Lucius shot Bruce a resentful glare.
"You really know how to cause trouble. Fine—I'll make it happen."
After sending Bruce-the-menace out of his office, Lucius urgently convened the Board.
Bruce—blocked from joining due to political resistance—had his shares held in trust by Lucius, giving Lucius the right to vote.
The meeting results were neither good nor bad. Of the twenty-something directors, more than half were secretly controlled by Thea, and she had already instructed them to abstain.
Lucius expected fierce opposition to the proposal, but most people simply stayed silent. The plan passed—barely, but passed nonetheless.
With no choice but to accept reality, Lucius launched lobbying efforts using Bruce and Wayne Enterprises' names.
Government efficiency was always sluggish, so Lucius gathered several PR elites to discuss strategy.
They didn't understand why they were promoting something completely unrelated to their business—but to their credit, the Western contract spirit was strong.
They were paid by Wayne Enterprises, so they'd do whatever Wayne Enterprises needed.
Push a temple? Sure.
Push Mars? They'd figure something out too.
And surprisingly—
with enough people brainstorming, the fire grew bright.
They eventually came up with a bold but highly effective publicity strategy.