Author's note:
First off, I'd like to apologize for the heavy deleting of files from this account. Let's just say I'm trying to make sure I'm centered right now and leave it at that. Anyways, large thanks to MetroXLR99 for indirectly giving me the idea for this story and I hope that he, and the rest of you guys, will appreciate the concept. Anyways, enjoy.
Prologue
"Dad, I know we intruded on you and your workers and all that, but this is going too far!" declared a red-headed girl around the age of twelve in a green long-sleeved shirt who was tied to a metal bar along with a blonde girl of similar aged dressed in orange and blue, as well as several other kids who were decked out in various wardrobes. "Sorry, sweetie, but my new partner made it clear that we're not letting ANYONE off easy," declared the person who appeared to be the leader with a slight sneer, to which the blond groaned, "THIS is what I get for not checking up on possible ownership of the place before coming here."
(Space bump)
In case your wondering, the red-head and blonde are Kids Next Door operatives Numbuh's 86 and 362, who decided to personally test the moral standings of their operatives in a secure location with a specially designed obstacle course and written exam drawn up shortly after Numbuh 12's betrayal back with the incident with the code module. Unfortunately, nobody could have guessed that the chosen location, an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the town where Sector V's treehouse was located, was secretly a processing plant of some kind set up by the adults. That said, when they showed up for the SECOND of the tests to be held, as they had held one the previous year, they didn't expect to be ambushed, sedated, and then hogtied above a vat of boiling caramel sauce by none other then Fanny's father, Mr. Boss. Anyway, on with the story.
(Space bump)
"How long until that last batch is done?" the corrupt business man asked one of his workers, to which he replied, "The last canister is being prepped for delivery as we speak, though I STILL don't get why we can't just administer that stuff ourselves." "We've got too many people watching us as it is: I'm amazed at how many got mad at us for that whole 'send children to Pluto' thing once the cops found out about it," Mr. Boss replied, "If it wasn't for the fact that I was able to write it off as testing a new type of rocket, as well as an attempt to see what the effects of interplanetary flight would have on youth, we wouldn't be able to even pull THIS part of the job off."
"Well, you WON'T get away with it this time, because I already sent out a distress beacon to Sector V," declared the KND's supreme leader, to which the lone scientist in the room scoffed, "Then it's a shame that conventional monitoring networks are unable to pick up ANY sort of signal from in here, thanks to the jamming devices I set up." It's at this point that one of the men in the building suddenly screamed out in terror. "What was that?" Mr. Boss demanded, to which one the other workers shrugged stated, "Maybe the Toiletnator showed up or something." This was proven wrong when the sound of someone screaming was heard from someone who was now hanging from one of the rafters by a rope of some kind. Before anyone could react to this, however, a small explosion was heard, followed by a stream of water flowing into the caramel sauce, causing it to become cold enough to land in without being burned, yet soft enough to not be hurt by the impact. "No problem: I'll increase the heat output," the scientist declared, only for it to become impossible by an object being thrown into the control panel, destroying it.
The head of de-commissioning was stunned: this was all done with sheer precision, all which seemed geared at freaking their captors out. Even if Numbuh's 3, 5, or those BOYS had gotten the distress signal her friend had sent out, THIS wasn't one of the things they were know for doing. What REALLY got her attention, though, was the weapon used to destroy the controls: sleek in design, capable of numerous modifications that she could already envision, and with the ability of nearly silent delivery to it's target, but most curious of all, the weapon seemed to be a boomerang that was shaped like a bat.
Suddenly, a figure dropped down from the ceiling into a large group of workers who were now carrying various melee weapons. Both the adults AND children present were stunned as what appeared to be a pre-teen in a black outfit and wearing a mask proceeded to beat the stuffing out of them: while a few of the thugs would score the odd hit, NONE of them were left standing within a matter of minutes as this mysterious person, who was CLEARLY a male around the age of twelve, seemed to be fighting on a level that seemed similar to that of an adult black belt. As the figure did what appeared to be some minor stretches, the scientist took out a firearm and approached him, only to be backhanded into unconsciousness.
Mr. Boss, deciding that he should make a break for it while he could, hastily made a dash for the door, only for his feet to be tied up with a bolos. He watched as the figure threw another of his bat-shaped boomerangs at the rope, cutting at JUST the right point for it to be severed and allow for easy untangling. He then found himself hoisted up so that he was able to look right into the eyes of the mystery man. He was stunned to see the clear youth in the features that his mask, which had what looked like horns or bat ears on top and only allowed for the eyes and jaw to be seen, yet at the same time a sheer coldness in his expression that usually only adults were capable of.
"What do you want?" Numbuh 86 heard her father ask, fear clearly evident. "Information: where's Sionis holding up?" the figure demanded in a tone that, while she'd probably never admit it, was kind of attractive in a rough-and-tough sort of way. "What are you talking about? I don't know any…" her father began before being cut off by being punched in the gut. "You know EXACTLY what I'm talking about, Simon Fulbright, or do you prefer Mr. Boss?" he deadpanned, before stating, "I KNOW that Roman Sionis, aka Black Mask, wants you to help him create a chemical he plans on lacing various products, many of which are popular with children, after he has it inspected by a third-party companion, in return for some industrial assistance: now where is he?"
"Look: I may not always be the best businessman around, but I know a thing or two about how if you speak about secrets, they tend to get spread," Mr. Boss quipped, "So you're going to have to…what are you doing?" The business guru was stunned as the boy in the mask took out another, well, "batarang" and threw it at the rope that held up the man hanging from the rafters: somehow the fact that the fall wouldn't kill him wasn't all that comforting. "Unless you want to see if you have the same luck as him, TALK!"
"Okay, you win," Rachel heard Mr. Boss say as she and the others finally all got suitable footing, "I actually don't know where he is right now: I was supposed to contact him so he could find ME. He WAS staying at this one lodge on the north side of town, but the moment he realizes the shipment's been compromised, he'll be gone before you can even blink." The Supreme Commander of the KND was stunned: NOBODY had given this much away in one of THEIR interrogations, so whoever this guy was, he knew what he was doing. "That's fine: I'll find him anyways," the figure stated in a way that told her that it was no lie.
It was then that Mr. Boss asked the question that was on EVERYONE'S mind: "WHO ARE YOU?" Before knocking the man unconscious, he simply stated, "I'm Batman." Suddenly, Sector V's deployment pods crashed in through the windows. "Alright, team: let's get to…work?" Numbuh 1 said with confusion, to which Numbuh 4 declared, "We responded to a grabbled distress beacon for THIS?"
"It's not what you think: we were rescued by…where'd he go?" Fanny heard one of the other operatives say as she approached the control panel, the weapon that sparked her fascination with their apparent savior still lodged in it. "Numbuh 5 wonders if this was all just a waste of our time," the African-American operative deadpanned, to which Numbuh 2, who was inspecting a broken piece of pipe, stated, "I don't think so: from what I can tell, this was done with someone ELSE'S equipment."
Suddenly, a loud bang was heard from the designated garage Everyone ran inside just in time to see the mysterious "Batman" putting away a strange gadget away in the belt he seemed to be wearing. As he tapped some buttons on what seemed to be a mini-computer on his sleeve, he stated, "You might want to get out of here before the cops respond to the 'anonymous' tip I'm sending them." "You can't call the cops on US, you meanie!" Numbuh 3 declared, to which he stated, "It's not for you: it's for those men taking a nap in the other room."
"Wait: you wouldn't consider joining the Kids Next Door, would you?" Numbuh 362 asked, to which Batman stated, "I'm willing to work WITH you, but I won't work FOR you, and in case your curious as to why, let's just say I no longer HAVE a childhood." "Well, how will we know where to find you?" Numbuh 4 asked, sounding more then a little irritated. "I'll find you," he said with confidence, before pressing a button on his arm.
Numbuh 86 simply gaped as a small plane that was shaped like a bat flew in by itself and hovered a few feet away from where they were standing. As Batman climbed into it via a small seat that looked a LOT like a ladder, she thought she heard Numbuh 2 say, "I GOT to get me one of THOSE." She watched him fly off, but not before she noticed something. While he seemed to be calm, cool, and collected, but at that last moment before he disappeared inside the plane, she thought she saw pain inside Batman's eyes, similar to what she saw in her OWN eyes after she had been emotionally kicked when she was down. It was at THAT moment she knew that whoever this guy was, he wasn't like other boys. "Who IS that masked man?" she thought to herself as she and the others ultimately decided to take the advice they were given and leave before the cops showed up, knowing full well this WASN'T the end to the story.
Author's note:
It's SO tempting to simply say "The end" right here and now, but I can't: there's just too many ideas running through my head right now. Just so you know, I'm having it that "Operation: Graduation" happened when Sector V and company were at age eleven or something like that. Hope I didn't drive anyone nuts with the way I kept switching the POV of the story without warning, since it's that way for a reason. Anyway, let me know what other DC figures you'd like to see here and I'll see if I can squeeze any of them in.
