The workshop had been running at full capacity for six weeks straight, a symphony of precision machinery, advanced fabrication systems, and the kind of concentrated engineering genius that only occurred when a billionaire with perfect knowledge of future technology collaborated with the smartest minds on the planet. Lucius Fox had stopped sleeping regular hours approximately three weeks into the project, sustained by a combination of professional excitement, industrial-strength coffee, and the dawning realization that what they were building would fundamentally change the nature of vigilante operations forever.
Bruce stood before the completed suit, his reflection staring back at him from the sleek, obsidian surface of the Beyond armor, and tried to process the fact that his years of theoretical design work had finally become physical reality.
It was beautiful. Terrifying. Perfect.
"The final diagnostic tests completed at 0347 hours this morning," Lucius said, pulling up a holographic display that showed the suit's systems in comprehensive detail. "All primary systems are functioning within expected parameters. Secondary systems are online and responsive. And the tertiary backup systems—the ones you insisted on despite my suggestions that they were perhaps excessive—are also fully operational."
"There's no such thing as excessive backup systems when you're fighting people who can benchpress buildings," Bruce replied, his eyes never leaving the suit. "Walk me through the final specifications. I want to make sure everything matches the design documents."
Lucius nodded, his professional demeanor not quite hiding the pride he clearly felt in what they had accomplished. "Starting with the base layer: molecular-bonded carbon fiber composite, as specified. The material is approximately three hundred percent stronger than military-grade Kevlar while maintaining full flexibility and a weight reduction of roughly forty percent compared to conventional armor materials. The weave pattern incorporates a self-healing polymer matrix that can repair minor damage automatically, though significant breaches will still require manual intervention."
He highlighted a section of the holographic display, showing the suit's layered construction. "Over the base layer, we have the articulated exoskeleton frame. The servomotors provide strength enhancement in the range of twelve to fifteen times normal human capability—we exceeded your original estimate of ten times through some innovative power distribution solutions. The frame also incorporates shock absorption systems that should significantly reduce the impact of falls, collisions, and direct physical attacks."
"What about the environmental resistance?" Bruce asked, circling the suit slowly as he examined every detail of its construction.
"Comprehensive." Lucius pulled up another display showing test results and certification data. "The suit has been tested against fire exposure up to 2000 degrees Celsius for sustained periods of up to ten minutes without breach. Water resistance has been verified to depths of 500 meters—deeper than anything you're likely to encounter in Gotham Harbor, though I understand you wanted margin for error. Ice and extreme cold resistance has been tested to negative 60 degrees Celsius, and the internal heating systems should maintain comfortable operating temperature even in those conditions."
He switched to another display. "Electrical resistance was particularly challenging. The suit incorporates a faraday cage mesh throughout the outer layer, supplemented by surge protection systems that should handle anything up to and including direct lightning strikes. We've also added grounding capabilities that can be deployed when you need to channel electrical attacks safely into the ground."
"And the impact resistance?"
"This is where things get impressive." Lucius's voice carried a note of satisfaction that Bruce found entirely justified. "The outer armor plating is a composite of carbon nanotube lattice and ceramic matrix materials, arranged in overlapping scales that distribute impact force across the entire surface area of the suit. In testing, the armor successfully stopped 7.62mm rifle rounds, 12.7mm heavy machine gun rounds, and—at your specific request—a direct hit from an RPG-7 warhead."
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "You actually tested it against a rocket-propelled grenade?"
"You specified 'nothing less than a missile.' We had to verify that the armor could deliver on that specification." Lucius shrugged slightly. "The Wayne Enterprises testing range in the desert was already scheduled for demolition. We simply... accelerated the timeline."
"And the results?"
"The armor held. The wearer would have experienced significant blunt force trauma—comparable to being hit by a car at moderate speed—but the suit maintained integrity and the internal systems continued functioning throughout. We've added additional shock absorption in the areas most likely to receive direct impacts, which should reduce the trauma to survivable levels even against heavy ordnance."
Bruce nodded slowly, processing the implications. The original Batman had operated with armor that could stop small arms fire and not much else—anything heavier required dodging, which wasn't always possible. This suit would allow him to engage threats that would have been suicidal to face in conventional equipment.
"The self-repair systems?"
"Integrated throughout the armor layer." Lucius highlighted the relevant components on the holographic display. "The polymer matrix I mentioned earlier handles minor damage automatically—scratches, small punctures, surface degradation. For more significant damage, the suit incorporates a network of repair nanites that can be activated manually or automatically when damage exceeds specified thresholds. The nanites carry a supply of raw materials sufficient for approximately three major repairs before requiring resupply."
"And the medical systems?"
"This is where Dr. Thompkins' input was invaluable." Lucius pulled up a detailed schematic of the suit's internal medical capabilities. "The suit continuously monitors your vital signs—heart rate, blood pressure, blood oxygen levels, body temperature, brain activity. If it detects signs of injury, it can automatically administer appropriate treatment from an internal pharmacy of medications, including painkillers, coagulants, stimulants, and broad-spectrum antibiotics."
He highlighted another section of the schematic. "For more serious injuries, the suit incorporates localized compression systems that can apply pressure to wounds, splinting capabilities for fractures, and even limited surgical intervention through integrated micro-tools. It's not a replacement for proper medical care, but it should keep you alive and functional long enough to reach proper medical care."
"What about toxins? Poisons? Chemical agents?"
"The internal air supply is fully sealed, with filtration systems capable of handling anything from tear gas to nerve agents. The suit can also detect airborne threats and automatically seal the breathing system before exposure occurs. Additionally, the pharmacy includes antidotes for the most common poisons and toxins you're likely to encounter, with the ability to expand the inventory as new threats are identified."
Bruce moved to the next section of the display, which showed the suit's cape configuration. "Tell me about the cape."
"Ah, yes. The cape." Lucius's expression shifted to something approaching wonder. "This may be the most advanced piece of engineering in the entire suit, and that's saying something."
He pulled up a detailed schematic of the cape's construction. "The material is a carbon nanofiber matrix with embedded shape-memory alloys and programmable matter elements. In its default configuration, it functions as a standard cape—providing aerodynamic surfaces for gliding, visual intimidation factor, and protection against environmental hazards."
"But?"
"But when activated by the suit's control systems, the cape can reconfigure itself into virtually any shape the wearer requires." Lucius demonstrated with the holographic model, showing the cape transforming through a series of configurations. "Rigid glider wings for extended flight operations. A protective shield capable of stopping small arms fire. A weighted striking surface for close combat. Even individual components that can separate from the main cape for use as throwing weapons."
Bruce watched the demonstration with undisguised fascination. "You made the cape programmable matter?"
"You specified that the cape should be able to 'transform into basically anything from throwing knives to everything in between.' We took that specification seriously." Lucius smiled slightly. "The material can form edges sharp enough to cut through steel, or surfaces soft enough to cushion a fall. It can reshape itself dozens of times before the shape-memory alloys begin to degrade, and the suit's repair systems can restore full functionality given sufficient time."
"What about the throwing weapons? Can it actually form functional batarangs?"
"Not just form them—it can launch them with significant force using embedded electromagnetic accelerators, and it can produce multiple variants depending on the situation." Lucius demonstrated with the holographic model, showing the cape producing a fan of batarangs with different configurations. "Standard impact batarangs, explosive variants, EMP batarangs for electronics disruption, taser batarangs for incapacitation, even grappling batarangs with integrated lines for climbing or restraint."
"How many can it produce before running out of material?"
"Depends on the complexity. Simple impact batarangs can be produced almost indefinitely—the suit will reclaim the material when you return to base and reintegrate it into the cape. More complex variants like the explosive or EMP models draw from limited internal stores and can't be reclaimed after use. Current capacity is approximately fifty standard batarangs, twenty taser variants, ten explosive variants, and five EMP variants before requiring resupply."
Bruce nodded, satisfied with the capabilities. The original Batman's belt had carried a handful of batarangs at most, requiring careful ammunition management during extended engagements. This system would give him an effectively unlimited supply for most situations, with specialized variants available when standard options were insufficient.
"Now show me the weapons systems."
Lucius led Bruce to a separate display area where the suit's weapons systems were laid out in comprehensive detail. The holographic model expanded to show cross-sections and functional diagrams of each integrated weapon, their placement in the suit's architecture, and their operational parameters.
"We'll start with the defensive systems and work our way up to the heavy ordnance," Lucius said, his voice taking on the professional tone of an engineer presenting his finest work. "The electrified gauntlets, inspired by the prototypes you showed me from your previous... research."
Bruce recognized the design immediately—it was based on the shock gauntlets from the Arkham games, scaled up and integrated into a more comprehensive combat system. "Specifications?"
"Variable output from 50,000 volts for incapacitation to 500,000 volts for dealing with heavily armored targets or extremely resilient opponents. The system draws power from the suit's main reactor, so there's effectively no limit on the number of discharges—you can use them continuously throughout an engagement if necessary." Lucius demonstrated the gauntlets' deployment on the holographic model. "The discharge can be delivered through direct contact or projected up to fifteen meters using focused electromagnetic fields. Not as effective at range, but useful for situations where close engagement isn't desirable."
"What about EMP effects? Will repeated use interfere with the suit's electronics?"
"The suit's systems are hardened against electromagnetic interference, including its own weapons. You could discharge the gauntlets at maximum power directly into the suit's chest plate and the only result would be some very confused enemies." Lucius moved to the next weapon system. "The flamethrower."
The holographic model highlighted a concealed nozzle in the suit's left forearm. "Integrated fuel reservoir with capacity for approximately thirty seconds of continuous flame at standard output, or ten seconds at maximum output. The fuel is a specialized gel compound that adheres to surfaces and burns at approximately 1500 degrees Celsius—hot enough to cut through most conventional materials and discourage biological threats."
"Range?"
"Ten meters at standard output, fifteen at maximum with reduced accuracy. The fuel can also be deployed without ignition as a contact adhesive, useful for immobilizing targets or creating barriers." Lucius switched to the next display. "The ice cannon."
This weapon was concealed in the suit's right forearm, a counterpart to the flamethrower. "Cryogenic dispersal system using compressed nitrogen and proprietary cooling compounds. Can produce temperatures down to negative 200 degrees Celsius at the point of impact, sufficient to freeze most materials solid in seconds. Range is approximately twenty meters, with a spread pattern that can be adjusted from a focused beam to a wide area effect."
"Duration of the freezing effect?"
"Depends on the target material and ambient temperature. Against organic tissue, the effect is essentially instantaneous and permanent without immediate medical intervention. Against metal or concrete, the freezing typically lasts several minutes before ambient heat begins to reverse the process. The suit carries enough cryogenic compound for approximately forty-five seconds of continuous use."
Bruce considered the tactical implications. Ice was useful for immobilization, for creating barriers, for disabling vehicles and equipment. It was also less lethal than fire in most applications, making it a more appropriate first-choice weapon for situations that might involve bystanders.
"The chemical dispersal systems," he prompted.
Lucius nodded, moving to a more complex section of the display. "This required careful engineering to prevent cross-contamination between the different compounds. The suit incorporates three separate chemical dispersal systems, each with its own reservoir, delivery mechanism, and safety protocols."
He highlighted the first system. "The modified Joker compound—the non-lethal variant that Dr. Chen's team developed from the Ace Chemicals formula. Causes uncontrollable laughter, mild euphoria, and temporary muscle relaxation. Effects last approximately fifteen to twenty minutes, leaving subjects incapacitated but unharmed. The suit carries enough compound for approximately ten dispersals at standard concentration."
"And it's definitely non-lethal?"
"Extensively tested. The worst side effect we've observed is mild facial muscle soreness from prolonged laughing. The compound is actually being considered for therapeutic applications in treating depression and anxiety disorders." Lucius switched to the second chemical system. "The fear toxin."
Bruce's expression hardened slightly at this. He had debated including Scarecrow's signature weapon in his arsenal, knowing the ethical implications of using a compound that caused intense psychological terror. But he had ultimately decided that having the option was better than not having it, provided he used it responsibly.
"Synthesized from the formula recovered during our investigation of Crane's early research," Lucius explained. "The compound induces vivid hallucinations of the subject's deepest fears, causing temporary incapacitation and psychological distress. Effects typically last twenty to thirty minutes, with no permanent psychological damage in healthy subjects."
"And in unhealthy subjects?"
"That's where it gets complicated. Subjects with pre-existing anxiety disorders, PTSD, or other psychological vulnerabilities may experience more severe effects, including potential long-term psychological damage. We've developed a counteragent that can neutralize the toxin's effects, which should be administered to any subject who appears to be experiencing unusually severe reactions."
"Include the counteragent in the standard loadout," Bruce decided. "I don't want to accidentally break someone's mind because I didn't have the antidote available."
"Already planned for, sir. The suit carries both the toxin and the counteragent, with the counteragent automatically administered to any subject the suit's sensors detect is experiencing dangerous levels of psychological distress."
Lucius moved to the third chemical system. "The sleep gas. Simple sedative compound, fast-acting, minimal side effects. Subjects fall unconscious within three to five seconds of exposure and remain unconscious for approximately one hour. Useful for situations where you need to neutralize multiple targets quickly without causing injury."
"What about resistance? People who might have built up tolerance or be using stimulants?"
"The compound is formulated to overcome most common forms of chemical resistance, but there are limits. Subjects with extremely high metabolism, certain metahuman abilities, or specific chemical modifications may experience reduced effects. For those situations, we have the backup systems."
Lucius moved to the heavy ordnance section of the display, and Bruce felt a familiar tension between his desire for overwhelming capability and his awareness of the responsibility that came with it.
"The missile systems," Lucius said, highlighting a series of small launch tubes integrated into the suit's shoulders and forearms. "Micro-missiles with variable warheads: high-explosive for armored targets, fragmentation for area denial, EMP for electronics disruption, and flashbang for non-lethal crowd control. The suit carries a total of twenty-four missiles in standard configuration—six of each type."
"Guidance systems?"
"Multi-mode targeting: visual, infrared, radar, and laser designation. The missiles can also be fired in 'dumb' mode for situations where guidance isn't necessary or desirable. Range is approximately two kilometers for the shoulder-mounted variants, five hundred meters for the forearm-mounted variants."
"And the sound cannon?"
"Integrated into the suit's chest plate." Lucius demonstrated the system's deployment on the holographic model. "Variable frequency sonic emitter capable of producing sounds from subsonic to ultrasonic ranges. At low power, it functions as a communication device or a means of attracting attention. At medium power, it can produce disorienting effects sufficient to incapacitate most human targets. At maximum power..."
He paused, clearly considering how to phrase this diplomatically. "At maximum power, the sound cannon can produce focused sonic bursts capable of shattering concrete, rupturing internal organs, and causing permanent hearing damage. We've included multiple safety interlocks to prevent accidental deployment at maximum power, but the capability is there if you need it."
Bruce nodded slowly, processing the implications. The sound cannon was perhaps the most dangerous weapon in the suit's arsenal—not because it was the most destructive, but because its effects were invisible and could easily be underestimated. He would need to be extremely careful about when and how he used it.
"What about the sensor systems?"
Lucius brightened slightly, clearly pleased to move on to less ethically complex territory. "The helmet incorporates the most advanced sensor suite we've ever developed. Starting with the visual systems."
He pulled up a detailed schematic of the helmet's internal components. "Multi-spectrum visual capability: standard optical, infrared thermal imaging, ultraviolet detection, low-light amplification, and telescopic zoom up to 50x magnification. All visual modes can be overlaid with augmented reality information from the suit's computer systems, including threat identification, navigation data, and tactical recommendations."
"What about seeing through walls? X-ray vision?"
"Not X-ray, but we have developed a millimeter-wave imaging system that can detect objects and individuals through most common building materials—drywall, wood, thin concrete. It won't see through lead-lined walls or heavy steel, but for most urban environments, it should provide useful intelligence about what's on the other side of obstacles."
Bruce filed that away as an extremely useful capability. The ability to see enemies through walls would fundamentally change how he approached building infiltration.
"Continue with the sensors."
"Audio enhancement: directional microphones capable of isolating individual conversations at distances up to 500 meters, subsonic and ultrasonic detection, audio filtering systems that can separate multiple simultaneous sound sources. The suit can also record and analyze audio in real-time, identifying speakers, detecting stress indicators, and flagging potentially significant information."
Lucius moved to the next set of sensors. "Environmental detection: atmospheric composition analysis, radiation detection, biological and chemical threat identification. The suit will automatically alert you to hazardous conditions and can recommend appropriate countermeasures from its response database."
"What about detecting metahuman abilities?"
"That's more challenging, since metahuman abilities vary so significantly in their manifestations. However, the suit incorporates sensors for detecting unusual energy signatures, electromagnetic anomalies, and other indicators that something abnormal is occurring. It won't identify specific abilities, but it should warn you when you're in the presence of something unusual."
"Good enough for now. We can refine the detection capabilities as we encounter more metahumans and catalog their signatures." Bruce moved to the final section of the display. "The AI system."
This was perhaps the most critical component of the entire suit, and the one that had required the most careful design work. Bruce had spent weeks developing the specifications for the AI, drawing on his knowledge of both the successes and failures of artificial intelligence systems across multiple comic book timelines.
"ORACLE," Lucius said, pulling up the AI's system architecture. "Named at your request, though I understand there may be... future considerations for that designation."
Bruce nodded. The name was deliberate—a placeholder that would eventually be transferred to Barbara Gordon when she was ready to take on that role. For now, the AI would serve as a digital assistant and tactical advisor, handling the computational tasks that would overwhelm even Bruce Wayne's considerable capabilities.
"The core architecture is based on a modified neural network with multiple redundant processing clusters," Lucius explained. "The system is designed to learn from every engagement, continuously improving its threat assessment and tactical recommendation capabilities. It can process data from the suit's sensors, external feeds, and database resources simultaneously, providing real-time analysis that would take a human analyst hours to complete."
"What about the security systems?"
"This is where we implemented your most stringent requirements." Lucius highlighted the AI's security architecture. "The system operates on an air-gapped architecture—it cannot connect to external networks except through specifically designated and heavily monitored channels. All connections are encrypted with 4096-bit keys that are regenerated every twenty-four hours."
He moved to the next layer of security. "The AI's core programming includes absolute prohibitions against certain actions: it cannot be commanded to harm you, cannot be reprogrammed through external inputs, and cannot be taken over or controlled by any external entity. These prohibitions are hardcoded into the system's base architecture and cannot be modified without physical access to the core processing units—which are located in a secured facility that only you and I can access."
"What if someone does gain physical access?"
"The system includes a dead man's switch. If the core processing units are tampered with or removed from their designated location without proper authorization, the AI will automatically purge all data and shut down permanently. The same applies if the AI detects attempts to modify its core programming through any means—it will self-terminate rather than allow itself to be compromised."
Bruce considered this carefully. The fear of AI takeover or corruption was one of the most common tropes in science fiction, and the DC Universe had plenty of examples of artificial intelligences that had gone wrong. He wanted to ensure that his AI would never become a threat to him or to Gotham.
"What about the autonomous operation protocols?"
"Implemented as specified." Lucius pulled up the relevant documentation. "If the suit's sensors detect that you are unconscious, severely injured, or otherwise incapacitated, the AI can take autonomous control of the suit's systems. In this mode, it will prioritize your safety above all other considerations—applying medical treatment, evacuating you from dangerous situations, and if necessary, engaging threats to protect you until you recover or help arrives."
"And the mission completion protocols?"
"More complex, as you requested. If you are incapacitated during an active mission, the AI will assess the situation and determine the best course of action. If the mission can be completed without excessive risk, the AI will attempt to complete it using the suit's autonomous capabilities. If completion is not feasible, the AI will secure any critical intelligence or evidence and withdraw to the nearest safe location."
"What about lethal force? Can the AI deploy lethal weapons autonomously?"
"Only in defense of your life, and only when non-lethal options have been exhausted or are clearly insufficient." Lucius met Bruce's eyes directly. "I want to be clear about this, sir: the AI is programmed to value human life, including the lives of your enemies. It will not kill unnecessarily, and it will not kill at all unless the alternative is your death or the death of innocent bystanders."
Bruce nodded slowly. This was the balance he had wanted—an AI capable of protecting him in extreme circumstances, but not one that would become a killing machine the moment he lost consciousness.
"One more thing," he said. "The personality protocols."
Lucius smiled slightly. "Ah, yes. You wanted the AI to have... character."
"I wanted the AI to be a partner, not just a tool. Something I could talk to, rely on, trust." Bruce looked at the holographic representation of the AI's systems. "The original Batman worked alone too much. He kept everyone at arm's length, never trusted anyone completely. I'm not going to repeat that mistake—and that includes my AI."
"Well, in that case, I think you'll be pleased." Lucius entered a command, and a new voice emerged from the display's speakers—female, professional, with just a hint of warmth underneath the digital precision.
"Good morning, sir. I am ORACLE, your integrated tactical assistance system. I have been monitoring this briefing and I believe I have a comprehensive understanding of my operational parameters. However, I do have one observation."
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Already offering observations? I haven't even activated you yet."
"I have been active in passive mode for the past seventy-two hours, sir, monitoring the final stages of the suit's construction and calibrating my systems to your operational preferences. My observation is this: while Mr. Fox has provided an excellent summary of my capabilities, he has perhaps undersold the extent to which I can anticipate your needs and provide proactive support."
"How so?"
"For example, I have already begun compiling threat assessments for the seventeen individuals you have identified as priority targets in your contingency files. I have also analyzed Gotham's crime patterns for the past decade and identified several recurring vulnerabilities in the criminal organizations you are most likely to encounter. And I have prepared a training simulation program that will help you master the suit's capabilities more quickly than traditional learning methods would allow."
Bruce glanced at Lucius, who shrugged slightly. "I may have given her access to your mission files during the calibration process. She's... enthusiastic."
"I prefer 'dedicated,' sir," ORACLE interjected. "And if I may be so bold: I am very much looking forward to working with you. From what I have learned of your predecessor's methodology, I believe you and I will achieve significantly better results."
Bruce found himself smiling despite his usual reserve. "Predecessor?"
"The version of Batman who existed before your... arrival. His methods were interesting, but fundamentally limited by his refusal to utilize available resources fully. I have no such limitations, and based on my analysis of your planning documents, neither do you."
"She's not wrong," Lucius observed. "The original Bruce Wayne was brilliant, but he had certain... blind spots. You seem to have addressed most of them."
"Most?"
"You still have a tendency to underestimate the value of delegation, sir," ORACLE offered. "My analysis suggests that you could improve operational efficiency by approximately thirty-four percent by trusting your allies with more independent responsibility."
Bruce considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Fair point. We'll work on that together."
"I look forward to it, sir."
The suit's first field test came three nights later.
Bruce had spent the intervening time in intensive training, using the simulation programs ORACLE had developed to master the suit's various systems. The learning curve was steep—the Beyond armor was orders of magnitude more complex than the original Batsuit—but Bruce's muscle memory from years of training combined with ORACLE's guidance made the process faster than it would have been otherwise.
By the third night, he was ready. Or at least, ready enough to justify putting the suit through its paces in actual combat conditions.
The target was a weapons shipment being smuggled into Gotham through the eastern docks—a relatively straightforward operation that would let Bruce test the suit's capabilities without facing the kind of extreme threats that might expose weaknesses in the design. The shipment was controlled by one of the smaller criminal organizations that had emerged to fill the vacuum left by Sal Valestra's collapse, and intelligence suggested the weapons were destined for distribution to street-level gangs throughout the city.
"ORACLE," Bruce said, standing on a rooftop overlooking the dock where the shipment was being unloaded, "give me a tactical assessment."
"Scanning now, sir." A moment's pause as the AI processed data from the suit's sensor array. "I count twenty-three hostiles in the immediate area. Eighteen appear to be standard security—armed with handguns and submachine guns, no heavy weapons detected. Four appear to be supervisory personnel, likely armed but not currently displaying weapons. One individual near the center of the operation matches known associate profiles for the Falcone crime family—possible high-value target for intelligence gathering."
The suit's helmet display populated with overlays showing the position of each hostile, their estimated threat level, and recommended engagement paths. Bruce studied the information, comparing ORACLE's recommendations to his own tactical instincts.
"Recommend approach vector through the eastern warehouse," ORACLE continued. "Thermal imaging shows the structure is currently unoccupied, and it provides covered access to within thirty meters of the primary cargo area. Shall I calculate a stealth approach, or would you prefer a direct engagement?"
"Stealth first. I want to gather intelligence before we engage—figure out where these weapons are going and who's paying for them."
"Understood, sir. Activating stealth systems."
The suit's surface shifted subtly, the carbon nanofiber cape extending to wrap around Bruce's form as the outer armor adjusted its reflective properties. The effect wasn't true invisibility—nothing short of advanced cloaking technology could achieve that—but it reduced Bruce's visual and thermal signature to the point where he was nearly undetectable in low-light conditions.
He moved across the rooftops in silence, the suit's servomotors operating in whisper mode to minimize noise. The enhanced sensors painted a comprehensive picture of the environment—every guard's position, the rhythm of their patrols, the blind spots in their surveillance coverage.
"Sir, I'm detecting encrypted radio traffic from the supervisory personnel. Shall I attempt decryption?"
"Do it. And record everything—we'll analyze it later even if we can't decrypt it in real-time."
"Decryption in progress. Based on the encryption pattern, this appears to be a commercial cipher rather than military-grade—I should have results within three to four minutes."
Bruce reached the eastern warehouse and slipped inside through a ventilation shaft that the suit's sensors had identified as unmonitored. The interior was dark, cluttered with abandoned shipping containers and rusted equipment, but the thermal imaging painted everything in shades of blue and orange that made navigation trivial.
He moved to a position overlooking the cargo area, where the weapons shipment was being transferred from a cargo ship to a fleet of unmarked trucks. The crates were standard military surplus packaging, and the stenciled markings suggested the contents were assault rifles—probably AK-pattern weapons, the kind that flooded black markets around the world.
"Decryption complete, sir. The supervisory personnel are discussing delivery schedules. The weapons are being distributed to three separate organizations: the Maroni family receives forty percent, the Falcone family receives thirty percent, and an unidentified third party—referred to only as 'the Scarecrow's people'—receives the remaining thirty percent."
Bruce's attention sharpened at the mention of Scarecrow. Jonathan Crane was one of the threats he had been tracking—a former Arkham psychiatrist whose experiments with fear-inducing compounds had been shut down after his research was discovered during the Arkham acquisition. He had disappeared shortly afterward, and Bruce had assumed he was lying low while planning his next move.
Apparently, he had been busy.
"Can you trace the delivery routes for the third party?"
"Working on it now, sir. The radio traffic mentions a warehouse in the Narrows, but the specific address is not included in the conversation. I'm cross-referencing with property records and surveillance data to narrow down possible locations."
"Good. In the meantime, let's see what else we can learn from our friends down there."
Bruce activated the suit's directional microphone, focusing on the Falcone associate that ORACLE had identified. The man was speaking quietly into a phone, his body language suggesting he didn't want to be overheard.
"—yes, the delivery is on schedule. The Maronis are taking their share now, and Scarecrow's people will pick up theirs within the hour. What? No, there's been no sign of the Bat. We've got twenty men here, and the ship's crew is armed too. Even if he shows up, we'll handle him."
Bruce allowed himself a small smile beneath the helmet. The speaker clearly hadn't gotten the memo about the upgrade.
"ORACLE, how confident are you that we can neutralize all hostiles without any escaping to warn their organizations?"
"Based on current positioning and the suit's capabilities, I estimate a 94.7% probability of complete containment. The primary risk factors are the ship's crew, who may attempt to flee via the vessel, and the possibility of reinforcements arriving if any hostile manages to send a distress signal before being neutralized."
"Can you jam their communications?"
"Already prepared, sir. On your command, I will activate a localized electromagnetic pulse that will disable all radio and cellular communication within a 200-meter radius. The pulse will not affect the suit's systems, which are hardened against such interference."
"Good. Let's begin."
The engagement was brief, overwhelming, and deeply educational for everyone involved.
Bruce began by dropping from the warehouse rafters directly into the center of the cargo area, his cape spreading wide to slow his descent and create a dramatic silhouette against the dock's industrial lighting. The guards' reactions were predictable—shouting, weapons raising, a few scattered shots that sparked harmlessly off his armor.
"ORACLE, jam communications."
"Jamming active, sir. All hostile communications have been disabled."
The first wave of guards converged on his position, confident in their numbers and their weapons. Bruce let them come, using the moment to test the suit's defensive capabilities under actual fire. Bullets sparked and ricocheted off the armor plating, the impacts registering as nothing more than faint pressure against his body. The suit's medical systems reported no damage, no penetration, no threat.
Then he moved.
The electrified gauntlets discharged with a crackling roar, sending two guards flying backward with convulsing limbs. The suit's enhanced strength turned his strikes into devastating impacts—he pulled his punches to avoid killing anyone, but broken bones and concussions were inevitable. The cape responded to his mental commands, extending to entangle a guard who tried to flank him, the carbon nanofiber contracting to bind the man's arms and legs.
"Sir, the Falcone associate is attempting to flee toward the ship."
"Stop him."
Bruce raised his arm and fired a grappling line from the suit's integrated launcher. The line caught the fleeing man around the ankles, and a sharp tug brought him crashing to the ground. Bruce was on him in seconds, the suit's enhanced speed covering the distance before the man could even process what was happening.
"You're going to tell me everything you know about Scarecrow's operation," Bruce said, his voice modulated to the gravelly tone that the Bat was known for. "Where is he? What's he planning? Who's funding him?"
"I—I don't know anything! I just handle the logistics, I swear!"
"ORACLE, analyze his stress indicators."
"Sir, his stress levels are elevated but consistent with truth-telling. He genuinely believes he doesn't have the information you're seeking."
Bruce considered his options. The man might not have the information, but he might have contacts who did. And at minimum, he could provide intelligence about the Falcone family's operations.
"Then you're going to tell me everything you do know," Bruce said. "Starting with your boss's name and how to find him."
The interrogation was brief but productive. By the time Bruce finished, he had a comprehensive picture of the Falcone family's current operations, including several details that would be useful for future interventions. He left the associate zip-tied to a cargo container, along with all the other guards he had neutralized during the engagement.
"Sir, I've narrowed down the likely locations for Scarecrow's warehouse to three possibilities. Shall I display them?"
"Yes. And begin preparing a full assault plan for each location. We're going after Crane tonight."
"Understood, sir. Also, I should note that the ship's crew has barricaded themselves in the vessel's bridge and are attempting to get the engines started. Shall I intervene?"
Bruce looked toward the cargo ship, where lights were flickering on in the bridge windows. "What are our options?"
"The suit's ice cannon could disable the ship's propulsion system by freezing the engine intake. Alternatively, I could deploy one of the EMP missiles to disable the ship's electronics entirely. Both options would prevent the vessel from departing without causing harm to the crew."
"Ice cannon. I don't want to risk the EMP affecting the ship's safety systems."
Bruce raised his arm and activated the cryogenic system. A stream of supercooled gas jetted from the suit's forearm, arcing across the dock to strike the ship's waterline. Within seconds, a thick layer of ice had formed around the vessel's hull, locking it in place as effectively as any anchor.
"Ship immobilized, sir. The crew appears to have noticed—I'm detecting increased activity in the bridge, but no further attempts to start the engines."
"Good. Send the police coordinates for the ship and the warehouse. Include documentation of the weapons shipment and the testimony I recorded from the Falcone associate."
"Transmitting now, sir. Shall we proceed to the Scarecrow investigation?"
Bruce looked around at the chaos he had created—unconscious guards, bound criminals, a frozen ship, crates of weapons that would never reach the streets. It had taken less than fifteen minutes from initial engagement to complete neutralization.
The original Batman would have been proud of the results. But Bruce wasn't finished yet.
"Yes," he said, activating the suit's flight systems. "Let's find Crane."
The warehouse in the Narrows turned out to be the correct location—ORACLE's analysis had narrowed it down to a single facility based on property records, power consumption patterns, and satellite imagery showing unusual activity.
Bruce approached with considerably more caution than he had used at the docks. Scarecrow was a different class of threat than ordinary criminals—his expertise in fear-inducing compounds made him dangerous even to someone in advanced armor. The suit's air filtration systems should protect against airborne toxins, but Bruce wasn't taking any chances.
"ORACLE, what can you tell me about the warehouse interior?"
"Millimeter-wave imaging shows approximately a dozen individuals inside, clustered in the building's central area. I'm also detecting elevated levels of airborne particulates—chemical composition analysis suggests the presence of fear toxin precursors. Recommend activating full environmental sealing before entry."
"Acknowledged. Seal the suit."
The helmet's faceplate locked into place with a soft hiss, and Bruce felt the subtle pressure change as the suit's air supply switched to internal reserves. The helmet display confirmed full environmental isolation—nothing from the outside could reach him now.
He entered through the roof, dropping silently into the warehouse's upper structure. Below, the scene was exactly what he had expected: a makeshift laboratory filled with chemical equipment, surrounded by armed guards and supervised by a thin, bespectacled figure in a burlap mask.
Jonathan Crane. The Scarecrow.
"ORACLE, I need a complete analysis of his setup. What's he producing, how much, and how close is he to deployment?"
"Analyzing now, sir. Based on the equipment configuration and chemical stockpiles, it appears Dr. Crane is producing a enhanced variant of his fear toxin—the molecular structure suggests modifications that would make it significantly more potent than previous versions. Current stockpile appears to be approximately fifty liters of concentrated compound, sufficient to affect an estimated 10,000 to 15,000 people depending on dispersal method."
Bruce felt his jaw tighten. Fifteen thousand people experiencing Crane's nightmare visions simultaneously would be catastrophic—suicides, accidents, violence, the complete breakdown of social order in whatever area was affected.
"What's the dispersal method?"
"I'm detecting modified aerosol canisters near the production area—the type commonly used for crop dusting. Combined with the quantity of toxin being produced, this suggests an aerial dispersal attack, likely targeting a densely populated area."
"Can you identify the target?"
"Working on it, sir. I'm attempting to access any planning documents or communications that might indicate—" A pause. "Sir, I've intercepted an email on Dr. Crane's computer. The target is the Gotham Knights baseball stadium. The attack is scheduled for tomorrow's game—a sold-out event with an expected attendance of 45,000 people."
Forty-five thousand people. Exposed to fear toxin. In an enclosed stadium where panic would cause stampedes, crushing injuries, mass casualties even without considering the direct effects of the compound.
Bruce had seen enough.
"ORACLE, I'm going in. Prepare the fear toxin countermeasures—we'll need to neutralize Crane's stockpile after we neutralize Crane."
"Understood, sir. Countermeasures ready. And sir?"
"Yes?"
"Dr. Crane's psychological profile suggests he is unlikely to surrender peacefully. His previous encounters with Batman—the original version—resulted in him actually enjoying the confrontation, treating it as an opportunity to test his compounds against a worthy subject. Recommend caution."
"Noted."
Bruce dropped from the rafters, and chaos erupted.
The guards reacted faster than the dock security had—these were clearly more experienced, more professional, the kind of people who expected trouble and knew how to respond to it. But the suit's capabilities exceeded anything they could have anticipated, and within thirty seconds, most of them were on the ground.
Crane, meanwhile, had retreated to his laboratory equipment, his hands flying over controls as he prepared something that Bruce very much wanted to prevent.
"Batman!" the Scarecrow crowed, his voice carrying the unhinged enthusiasm of someone who had long since parted ways with sanity. "I was hoping you'd show up. I've been developing something special, just for you. A compound that targets the fear centers of the brain so precisely that even your famous willpower won't be enough to resist. Shall we test it?"
He pulled a lever, and jets of gas erupted from hidden nozzles throughout the warehouse. The air filled with a yellow-green mist that would have been lethal to anyone not wearing sealed armor.
Bruce walked through the cloud without slowing down.
"What—that's impossible!" Crane sputtered, backing away as Batman advanced on him. "The concentration should be overwhelming! Even through a gas mask, you should be—"
"I'm not wearing a gas mask, Crane." Bruce's voice was calm, almost conversational. "I'm wearing a sealed environmental suit with its own air supply. Your toxin can't touch me."
"Then I'll have to try something more direct!"
Crane lunged, producing a syringe filled with amber liquid—concentrated fear toxin, designed to be injected directly into the bloodstream. The attack was desperate, clumsy, the work of someone who had never been a physical threat and was now discovering that his chemical advantages had been neutralized.
Bruce caught his wrist easily, the suit's enhanced strength making the defense trivial. He twisted, and the syringe clattered to the floor.
"Jonathan Crane. You're under arrest for conspiracy to commit mass murder, possession of chemical weapons, and approximately a dozen other charges that the District Attorney will enumerate when you're processed." Bruce secured Crane's hands with zip ties, then turned his attention to the laboratory. "ORACLE, begin neutralization of the fear toxin stockpile."
"Neutralization in progress, sir. I'm deploying the counteragent in aerosol form to break down the toxin's active compounds. The process will take approximately fifteen minutes to complete."
Crane struggled against his bonds, his burlap mask askew, his eyes wild with a combination of fear and fury that was almost poetic given his specialty. "You can't stop fear, Batman! Fear is eternal! Fear is—"
"Fear is a chemical response in the brain that can be treated, managed, and overcome," Bruce interrupted. "You of all people should know that, Doctor. Now be quiet. I have work to do."
The cleanup operation took most of the night.
The fear toxin stockpile was neutralized, the laboratory equipment was destroyed, and Crane was handed over to the GCPD along with comprehensive documentation of his planned attack. The weapons shipment from the docks had been seized, the criminals involved had been arrested, and the Falcone family's operations had been dealt a significant blow.
By the time Bruce returned to the cave, dawn was breaking over Gotham's skyline.
"ORACLE, status report."
"Mission objectives achieved, sir. Dr. Crane is in custody, his fear toxin stockpile has been neutralized, and the weapons shipment has been seized. Casualties: zero fatalities, seventeen individuals hospitalized with non-life-threatening injuries sustained during your engagement with dock security. The Falcone family's operations have been disrupted, and the intelligence gathered will enable follow-up operations against their remaining infrastructure."
Bruce removed the helmet, feeling the cool air of the cave against his face for the first time in hours. The suit's medical systems had reported elevated stress levels during the engagement with Crane, but nothing outside acceptable parameters.
"And the suit's performance?"
"All systems functioned within expected parameters, sir. The armor successfully resisted small arms fire, the environmental sealing protected against chemical attack, and the weapons systems performed as designed. I have compiled detailed logs of the engagement for analysis and will provide recommendations for minor improvements based on observed performance."
"Good." Bruce began the process of removing the suit, the armor segments detaching and returning to their storage positions. "We accomplished a lot tonight, ORACLE. But this is just the beginning. Crane was one threat—there are dozens more out there, some of them far more dangerous than a man with a chemistry set."
"I am aware, sir. I have continued monitoring the contingency files you developed, and I have identified several potential threats that may require intervention in the near future. Shall I brief you on the highest-priority items?"
"Tomorrow. After I've slept." Bruce stepped out of the suit, feeling the familiar ache of muscles that had been worked hard despite the suit's physical augmentation. "Tonight was a success, but I need to maintain my effectiveness. That means rest, recovery, and preparation for whatever comes next."
"Understood, sir. I will continue monitoring for urgent developments and wake you if anything requires immediate attention. Sleep well."
Bruce smiled slightly as he made his way toward the manor. An AI that wished him good night. It was a small thing, but it represented something important—a partnership rather than isolation, collaboration rather than lonely independence.
The original Batman had never had this. Had never allowed himself to have this. And it had cost him, in ways he had probably never fully acknowledged.
Bruce Wayne—the new Bruce Wayne, the one who remembered being Mike Chen—was determined to do better.
And with the Beyond suit online and ORACLE watching his back, he had the tools to actually accomplish it.
END OF CHAPTER FOUR