Nearly a year had passed since her last stint with the Religion of Crime. The same sacrifices, the same chants of the twice named Cain, and the same crushing pressure of death breathing down her neck as she escaped it yet again by the breadth of a hair. There lived a good portion of the Religion that believed in the permanence of Beth's death, and Kate would rather it be that way. It was easier that she be the only twin visible to the ever-looming presence of the Religion.
She knew that every picture of her taken by the tabloids, both as Batwoman and as herself, served as a stark reminder to the syndicate that their bible had yet to be wrong about her. There were more than frequent reminders with the way the Gotham Daily loves both her personas.
It still surprises her that it took nearly a year for the draught of the Religion to pick up on her radar. But none of that matters, Kate decided. What mattered was that her sister is safe.
She had noticed how much cleaner National City's streets are when she had first arrived five hours ago. Kate wonders where all that fundraising money her step-mother donates goes to when she says it's for the state departments. She tried to keep a low profile, to not draw more attention to herself than necessary as she roamed around her apartment block for a quick dinner. The last thing she needed was for them to hear she's on their tail.
What she had heard from Gotham told her that the new game was long term. Somewhere last week was when Abbott informed her, turning up uninvited to a party with his stellar frown. "They're calling her the Bastard's Angel," he said. "She will turn from her path of righteousness and bring an end to the age of Heroes. Should the twice-named daughter of Cain and the Angel's righteousness fall, the time of reckoning will come."
"Heresy's a good look on you," commented Kate.
"Look for the Angel, and I may be a heretic no longer. You may not survive this."
"I appreciate the faith."
"They've found her. But to turn the righteous down the dark faith will be a harder stunt than they are anticipating."
"The coven brought my dead twin sister back from the dead. I'm sure difficulty's just a minor bump in the road."
"And now we're on the same page, you and me."
Kate shuddered. She remembers the agony of watching her sister fall out of a plane, and she feels the snaking scar on her chest throb. The organization made the insurmountable look easy. Kate could only hope that she still had time.
The Chinese take-out was long cold by now as it sat untouched on her desk. It's three A.M and her eyes are glazing over. She breaks into a yawn and blinks back the tears that bring tangibility to her exhaustion. The chatter of the NCPD radio is no more than background noise at this point. Owned by her family's company, this penthouse suite on the forty-eighth floor, smack center in National City, stayed dimly lit despite the current occupancy.
Kate liked the dark sometimes. She enjoyed watching the strobe lights of the city stream through the ceiling-to-floor windows as she pulls her knees to her chest on her couch. Insouciant, fingers reach for her phone mindlessly. She doubts that tonight would be fruitful. A notification informing her of a match pops up on the home screen just as it flickers to life. It's the only intriguing alert that she has in this moment. Her step-mother's text, Kate decides, could wait.
She swipes at the notification, and Tinder congratulates her for matching with an Alex Danvers.
