Chapter 23: The Bat-Light Is On
The Shadow Spider had just sat down when Bruce spoke.
"How long can you stay in this world?" Bruce pushed a glass of water toward the figure on his sofa.
The Shadow Spider's hand, which had been about to take the glass, froze in mid-air. His white lenses widened in disbelief at the man across from him. He slowly lowered his hand, leaving the water untouched. He couldn't figure this guy out. Clearly no powers, but he seemed to know far too much.
Bruce just crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, watching the black-and-white Spider-Man quietly.
"It seems you know a lot more than I thought," the Shadow Spider said, straightening the brim of his fedora. He looked starkly out of place in the colorful living room.
Bruce didn't confirm or deny it. "The Spider-Man of this world is dead. Everyone knows that. But now, counting you, I've met two Spider-Men. Even someone slow would know that's impossible. Especially when one of them has an... art style... completely different from this world."
He glanced meaningfully at the Shadow Spider's monochrome suit and then at the vibrant room around them.
The Shadow Spider looked down at himself, then at the world beyond the window. He understood. Even though his world was always shades of gray, he knew how unique he must look here. Just like that glowing cube he'd seen—he couldn't even tell its color.
"So, you're not with Fisk?" the Shadow Spider asked, turning his head.
"Would I be a super-villain?" Bruce didn't answer directly. Instead, he tossed a question back.
Bruce's rhetorical question made the Shadow Spider laugh suddenly—a dry, short sound. "I like you," he said. This time, he picked up the glass of water and held it.
"I like women," Bruce replied flatly, not missing a beat.
The Shadow Spider paused, then chuckled again, understanding the joke. "I hate your complete lack of humor. You don't seem like someone from my world, or from this one, either." He lifted his mask just enough to take a drink, draining the glass in one go.
"Alright. I'm leaving now." He set the cup down, readjusted his mask, and stood. He didn't plan to stay any longer. In his mind, he'd already categorized the man before him as not a threat.
Of course, if Bruce knew about that classification, he'd probably disagree. He'd already put several people in the hospital in just a few days. Some of them might be permanently disabled, maybe even spend the rest of their lives as vegetables.
"If possible," the Shadow Spider said from the doorway, looking back, "I'd like to see if we could be friends."
Bruce gave no answer.
The Shadow Spider didn't seem to expect one. He shot a web from his wrist and swung off into the gathering dusk.
Bruce quietly closed the door. He was about to restart his interrupted training regimen. Compared to the middle-aged, paunchy Spider-Man in red and blue, he had a better impression of this Shadow Spider. Maybe it was because they were both detectives at heart. Or maybe because this one seemed less… chaotic. But you can't always get what you want.
Just as Bruce was about to resume his workout, he saw it. Against the dimming purple-orange sky of Queens, an extremely familiar symbol had bloomed in the distance.
In this world, the Bat-Signal was shining.
He wiped his hands on his towel. He already knew who was behind this. Who else but the Spider-Man he'd sent running with a few pointed questions?
"A little nostalgic," Thomas's voice murmured in Bruce's mind as he saw the signal through his son's eyes.
"Trouble is coming," Bruce replied silently. He knew that Peter B. Parker hadn't lit the signal just to finally answer his question. It was far more likely they'd gotten vital information from the Okmax raid… or run into major new trouble.
"Are you going?" Thomas asked. He felt it was unwise. Bruce had only the gear he'd brought with him—no support network, no one to watch his back. Walking into a situation involving unstable super-powered individuals was a risk.
Bruce turned and walked toward his bedroom, to the hidden panel holding his suit. His reply to the ghost in his mind was simple.
"My name is Bruce now. But I am Batman. How can a Batman ignore the Signal when someone lights it?"
Thomas wasn't surprised. It was the only choice any Batman would make.
On a rooftop in Midtown, Gwen and Miles watched Peter B. Parker's handiwork with deep confusion.
"Are you sure he'll come? I think my plan is more reliable. Let's just find a place to fix the key first, then fix everything," Gwen said. She thought Peter's idea was pure fantasy. Shine a bat-shaped light and a hero shows up? That was comic book logic. Their crossing into another universe had a scientific basis—a collider. But Batman wasn't even from their reality.
"Believe me, he'll come. As long as he's a die-hard Batman fan, he'll come," Peter said to Gwen with stubborn confidence.
Gwen could only nod slowly, her expression doubtful under her mask. She clearly didn't believe a Batman existed here.
"There really is a Batman! I saw him when I was with this Peter earlier. He was dressed as Batman!" Miles jumped in, eager to back Peter up. He didn't mention how that Batman had basically told them to get lost. That part wasn't important right now.
"He's here! He came!" Peter suddenly straightened up, his earlier anxiety vanishing. He pointed excitedly across the gap between buildings. "Look!"
Gwen and Miles turned. There, standing silently on the ledge of the opposite rooftop, was a dark, caped silhouette, backlit by the city glow. He was just… there. He hadn't been a moment before.
"WOW," Gwen breathed out, her skepticism crumbling in an instant. Seeing was believing. There really was a Batman in this world. Everything Peter had said was true.
(End of Chapter)
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