Hello there, you probably should read this a bit before venturing forth.

For some not-so-many-people-that-followed me - thank you for long waiting. And sorry that this is not the continuation of Ascension series. It probably will be continued later.

For newcomers - thank you in advance, and if you want to read my other work, please do check the Ascension series. It's probably not bad.

Now, I need to clarify some things before we venture inside my world of imagination - I really love Batman Beyond series. As a kid, I was watching it every day after school along with Extreme Ghostbusters, so my childhood was rad. And sometime ago I decided to rewatch the series in one seat...and sometime after that I started to have some...ideas. Those ideas led me to comic issues...and I got a little disappointed by the plot in many areas. And suddenly, I was hit by the idea that wasn't so easy to drove away...that idea lies in this very chapter. Just one idea out of the many I plotted and hid inside.

I hope I will have enough time and inspiration to work on it, since I am also writing an original series of my own, which is quite difficult task.

Oh. Two more thing. First, my worst adversaries - the typos - are back. Since English is not my primary language (but I am trying my best to make it one) I tend to make mistakes even after re-reading and redacting. I hope you will forgive me. Second - the style I wrote. People that read my Ascension series know that I tend to write in the style of common literature (especially in style of Russian literature), so I will not change the direct and indirect speech to those - "" - things. My apologies for the inconvenience.

Enjoy.

...how long was it? How long was this rusted ceiling being here? How long those echoing sounds of water dripping from the sink have tried to...to what?...awoke, but...awoke who? The thoughts...they are not so easy to collect, and this strange feeling, sensation of numbness...it's not right. Something is not right, but what?

This place is somehow familiar. The rusted ceiling made of plasteel panels, old machinery of some sorts that was silently humming, flickering light-bulb hanging on the wire...broken bottles, syringes, teared down wrappings of...chemicals? Yes, the chemicals, they were important, that was the memory saying - those chemicals were important to...live?...no, not live - survive, they were needed to survive, to...stabilize, yes, stabilize the...

The sudden urge to say something was in vain - instead of words came pathetic dry growl. Doesn't matter right now, better start moving to somewhere, to do something...the movement was also hard to do, almost impossible - the body was not moving at all, and come to think of it, the head was not moving also, it held itself in static manner...and the whole perspective, if you think about it too, was weird, like the whole room was observed from the higher position...wait, the footsteps, they were coming too close to this room. The instincts were kicking in, warning about at least four men and there was the idea, the...motion to get as far away as possible and stay within the shadows. It was hard to do, especially when the body was defying any movement, but at least the sudden urge and fear made it move like a slug somewhere backwards. The next thing to do was to stay still, and that was the easiest part.

The door slowly opened, just enough to let small round drone let inside the room before someone closed the door behind the drone. It was of boring white and black color, with some sort of a number and insignia on it, and maybe the number was useless, the insignia sparked something inside, something...terrible...hated. The instincts, though, were still in charge, telling about being completely motionless while drone was scanning the area for a whole minute, which felt like an hour. When drone finished scanning, the door opened, letting four armed men inside the room. Something inside was talking about how they are decent at combat, but nowhere near the true professionals when it comes to it. But the instincts were also admitting how carefully they went inside the room - checking corners, leaving one man at the door and alway keeping eye contact with each other...at least most of the times. The uniform on those armed men was also black and white, with armored pads and helmets, but most importantly were the shocking four letters on back of those men.

GCPD. Gotham City Police Department. They even had a number of precinct and their own ID, but those things were irrelevant compared to revelation those four words just led to. First - it was Gotham...again?...yes, it again, Gotham felt like something that was smelling of...failure, regret, rage...loss?...

- All clear, - the sudden chatter broke the thoughts, but for the best - the GCPD were inside the room still, searching every corner but not touching anything, - Looks like someone was here a while ago - those machines are still running hot.

- At least the lead was right this time...I am calling lab, keep this area clear - reports were showing high criminal activity in the area, - one of the man, who probably was in charge, walked outside of the room, trying to contact the precinct HQ, - You two stay here.

- Roger.

Something inside was telling that the idea of waiting for lab group to come in was a terrible one. And leaving any trace would be a bad thing too...but what to do? The body moved a little, the shadows were helping to be undetected for now, though the light-bulb could give away the position...if only there was a way to cut it or smash it...but maybe there is, it's just the matter of vision. Slowly, gently...when the officers are not seeing...yes, that's it, the vision is turning, but why the head is not feeling like...head? Questions for later, that's too damn many of them to deal right now.

The light-bulb was the first problem to deal with, the light itself felt like a threat, and it must be dealt quickly...there was a knife, on the floor, and the hiding place was, in fact, a refrigerator of some sort, an old one and pretty big. The knife was covered already in some dust and leftover traces, along with some sort of black goo dots on it. If only there was a way to reach that knife, to just extend the hand, and...and to see that something was extending towards the knife. A black and darkish-blue smooth tentacle slowly started to crawl down, but it was hard to control and maintain - it took a lot of focus to just hold it together, but it was shaking and dripping the same goo, that was on the knife. Slowly, the tentacle crawled itself around the knife's handle, and now the real torment began - the whole process of lifting a knife felt like lifting a hundred kilo rock with only little fingers. The goo was dripping even more actively, and the pain was something that was unexpected from the numb body - it was not the sharp pain that came and went, it was prolonged one, that slowly grew over time. The desire to scream, to just let out all that pain was insane, but the instincts were holding that scream for now - the cops were still here, and they were a threat. Slowly, gently, the knife went to the hiding place without a sound, and with the knife came rest and satisfaction. It took a lot of time to just start thinking again, and even more time to star moving around to see, what could be done with that knife. The most obvious choice was to smash the light-bulb with it, somehow there was an assurance inside that this will work...on the other hand, the window was open, and judging by the angle and the scenery, the room was a bit underground somewhere in old factorial zone, maybe chemical plant. What to do, what to do...

The sudden thought sparked with a pleasant shock all over the body - the knife was nearby, and the chemicals on it were so...delicious. Even a small portion of it already made the body stronger, the thoughts clearer, so it was obvious to devour the knife and leave nothing of those chemicals on it. With that, another thought appeared - the knife was used to prepare strong chemical...something, and it was...inside the refrigerator...one of the bottles, the other bottle was...used, yes, it was used and now it lied broken on the floor. Now the plan was a little bit harder than minutes ago - get inside the refrigerator, get the...whatever was cooked, and use it. But the refrigerator was closed, and the tentacle that tried to poke around couldn't find any entry point, beside the one that was for electricity and cryotube, but those options are off the table. The only thing that could be done is a good distraction...something that would last long enough to open the refrigerator, search it for second bottle, drink it and escape. Preferably outside.

The plan was simple enough to not fail right at the start, but after a short chat with the inner self, the plans was improved in several areas. Gathering all the strength, the tentacles lifted slowly the knife into the air, aiming right at the light-bulb. Moving it back and forth to feel the momentum, the weight of the knife and to calculate the trajectory, black tentacles suddenly stopped, moved backwards and threw the knight into the light-bulb, smashing it small pieces. The cops, of course, were startled, reaching for their laser pistols and turning on the shoulder lamps:

- What was it?

- Something came probably from the window, not sure how and why.

- One at the window, look for intruders, and you - search for whatever came here, fast - it could be a grenade.

Good. One cop at the window, peeking right from the corner opposite of refrigerator, the other one looking for the object that hit light-bulb, another two guarding the exit of the room. Their shoulder-lamps, of course, are nasty...but here is the thing - turns out, the tentacles and a whole body can move now! Even if for a little bit, it was still a victory. Slithering down across the back of the refrigerator, the body now moved inside the crack in the wall to the other side, slowly emerging from a tiny hole, right under the legs of a cop who stood on watch duty beside window. Now was the most important and tricky part...slithering down was easy, but how about jumping up? It took some time to amass the tentacles under the main body and aim it right. With a short breath to keep fear at bay, the tentacles launched body right at the cop's face. Quickly covering mouth and nose to prevent breathing and screaming, the cop was startled at first, but quickly panicked as his vision started to fade. Of course he wasn't standing around like an idiot - he tried to pull the body from his face, even smashed itself on the wall while his muffled screams were still heard in the room. The other three cops quickly armed:

- What the!?...Surround him, intensify the light! You, cover the doors, keep the light pointed to our back at all times!...damn it, catch him!

And catching he needed - when cop finally finished struggling and fell limp on the floor, the body quickly moved away, slithering across the machines and inside the cracks in the walls. One down - three to go, and it need to happen fast when the first one was unconscious. Reaching the exit point, the tentacles quickly helped to climb along the wall, from where another attack was performed - jump, close the nose and mouth, wait for a while and move on. This time it went better - the cop shot his laser pistol right into the room, hitting one of the other cops right into the body armor, and this little incident provided valuable time to finish the task. Killing the cops wasn't an option now, as instinct kept telling over and over, because it will attract unwanted attention. Rendering them senseless, on the other hand...

- Man down! Man down! - the officer dragged his wounded comrade to the cover, trying to get the GCPD on a radiolink, while covering the only entrance to the room, - One wounded, two unconscious, attacker is unknown...we don't have five minutes!...I'll try to patch him up.

That's true - you do not. Even more - your wounded comrade doesn't have much time, judging how he is swearing right now through the growls of pain. Quickly slithering up to the ceiling and through the cracks in it, the body moved fast along the wires to the room, peeking through the hole from which the wire of broken light-bulb dangled. From the look of it, the officer tried to help with the wound - the armor stopped most of the damage, but the flesh was burnt a lot. Of course it would be a nice opportunity to attack the officer, while he is at it...but something inside talked about another solution - wait for it and only when the cop is patched up attack the officer.

And that's what happened. When the officer stopped helping the wounded cop, the body launched itself with such speed that officer fell down, bumping on the floor and trying to struggle. The wounded cop tried to get a weapons steady, but he wasn't even understanding what actually was happening...and before that, he shared the same fate with other cops - violently put into sleep for a while.

When the struggle was finished, only radio-chatter from operator was heard, and that meant one thing - more cops will arrive, and much sooner than it would seem. Quickly jumping to the fridge and opening it, the body suddenly fell down into a squishy dropping mess. All that jumping around put too much strain to the whole body, but it was worth it - inside the refrigerator were lots of bottles with dark liquid inside it. There was no time to be careful - one by one, the tentacle reached out for the bottles and dropped them on the floor, absorbing the liquid. With each liquid consumed it felt like strength was coming back, and when the last bottle was drained dry, the body now was standing tall. Quickly searching the room, the body consumed every last drop of black goo, leaving no evidence, and on the way to exit it smashed the drone to pieces, especially storage devices. The vision got much better, and the body quickly found the grate, leading to sewers. Carefully opening the grate and moving it to the side, the body closed it firmly and started to move along narrow long corridors. Following the corridor, another thought suggested to listen to the sound of water and get to it, but not too close. Somehow, the word "water" equally meant "pain" and "death", and going along the source of death would be not the smartest idea...but probably the only one.

How long was it? Probably half an hour, or maybe whole hour of just walking along the empty maintenance corridors, with only one thought in mind - reach the water, reach the water, reach...the water...the body shook from the sudden pain, and it took several minutes staring blindly just to realize and accept a thought, that would seem crazy for ordinary man - the water already killed...her. This realization was even more insane, but the sounds of water flowing just around the corner revived a lot of memories - the dam...the rain...the...daughter?...but why remembering the daughter is so...painful? And why there is some else, something...sinister, something annoying?...riddled with questions, she slowly walked along the wall, until she reached the underground water refinery plant. Approaching towards one of the open water tanks, while trying to not fell inside one, she gazed in the reflection to see something hideous, deformed, black as night and with head that had no face at all...no, there was a face, at least once, and maybe she can make it appear. It took a lot of attempts - the faces that were shaped were hilarious at best and horrifying at most, but after long concentration she finally made it appear.

Her own face...black lips, wide-open eyes with no pupils, a long hair with the tone of the body...but the skin color was like...

- Inque.

The words came from the weak voice, to her own surprise, but that wasn't the end of all surprises. With that simple word the memories started coming in - slowly at first, but speeding up like an avalanche.

Immigration. Poverty. Hopeless future, painful present...daughter...the experiment...that enslaved her for a long time...the police, that took her daughter away...taking the dirty work to make money for one person, she cared about...only to be...

- ...betrayed, - she let out there words escape from her mouth, breathing heavily and staring at her own reflection, - Betrayed...betrayed..., - with the rage building inside her, Inque felt her body tensed second by second, before she let out her rage with a cry and a kick to the wall, shattering it. She kept kicking it, and with each hit she cried of anger and hopelessness.

But when her anger was suppressed, she remembered another part of the story - how she was captured...doing the same thing, she did years and years, only that last time...why she even did that? Why? Out of greed? Because she can't do anything else? As anger slowly was changed by despair, she slid across the wall, covering her face in her hands and silently crying. She remembered another things - her escape from Justice League, how she became unstable because of all the damage she endured during escape, how she stole the chemicals from all places and tried to find the needed solution...in the end, she had to discard most of the mass of her body and...yes, she hibernated, waiting for the her salvation...wait, that's not it, she...

- ...oh God, - the sudden realization hit her like a truck at fullspeed. The chemicals were not ready, because she just remembered - there was a timer lid on every bottle, and it showed that they needed at least several more days to be complete.

That means...that she need to do that all over again, just to survive, and to do that fast, without alarming anyone, while she is not at full strength. Maybe she can find another place, steal some more money and components, that won't be a problem now, especially when she has been restored to some degree by herself. So, all you need to do, is to get all your money from your daughter, maybe give her a lesson about betraying hardworking parent, and raid a chemical warehouse or two, get some connections, find a someone smart in chemistry science, maybe kidnap him and...

- ...no, - she quickly shut herself, - No, no, no! No more of that...No more! - she angrily stood up trying to turn her tentacles into hands, only to no avail, - Look at yourself! Look! You made same mistakes, over and over, because you want it the easy way! And what do you got, this?! - she approached the water tank, pointing her tentacle at her own reflection, - Everyone is using you, and others who do not use you - the cops, the Interpol, the Justice League - everyone are after you!...especially...Batman, - she slowly lowered her tentacle, looking at her reflection with a dumb-folded look, - ...especially him...but he is not that prideful arrogant prick, like other's...and he has someone he speaks to, a wise person..., - she paused for a while, trying to collect her thought into a plan, and several seconds after she quickly continued, - Turn to him, get him to help you...he must have the resources or connections, he must have to afford himself all that fancy stuff...though he is not a fast learner, - she muttered touchily before continuing talking to herself, - Stay out of sight, find the information about what happened in the world...and check on your daughter, - the last words were heavy to say, so she quickly continued - But don't get anywhere near her and her money...despite how you feel, she is still everything you have left...remember that. Now, go on and find Batman. If he won't help...than no one can.

The Gotham City proudly stood with it's almost endless skyscrapers and marco-complexes, being the shiny gem of the advanced age of technology. Flying vehicles, robotic assistants, automatic factories and systems, neon signs of the clubs and cinema centers...but it was the good side of the Gotham. The other side was a curse, that was plagued this city from time immemorial - the criminal activities. Robbery, shoot-outs, killers, psychopaths, gang wars, drug cartels - you named it, and it will be in Gotham. The GCPD, while equipped with the new technology, lacks the manpower to deal with everything that Gotham throws every single day at peaceful citizens. But, of course, the other problem is the law system, which sometimes works, sometimes - not, and the yet another problem is the favorite problem of humanity in any time period - bureaucracy. Many people say it needed to bring system to the law enforcement, but there is one particular...individual, who doesn't follow those principles. Or even a legend, that became a myth only to rise again in time of need for those, who had no hope in their live. A myth, that comes at night to fight corporations, cults, gangs and dangerous individuals when no one else can.

That myth right now was driving a Batmobile - a piece of art flying vehicle, that probably has a big collection of fines to be paid for parking in wrong placed and general behavior of violating the transportation law - and that myth had a conversation that did not had any mythical in it's nature:

- So...how are you doing? - it was Max on the radiolink, with whom new Batman could share what was on his mind.

- Considering everything - great. All I need is a massive Arkham breakout to be happy.

- Terry, I am serious about it, and you do not, - replied Max wearily.

- That's obvious.

- You are straying away from the question~

- ...sorry, I just...it never easy, you know that? - he sighed slightly, - And maybe we will talk about it, Max, but not right now.

- No pushing here, but I got your word, McGinnis.

- I am counting on you to remind me that later.

- ...oops.

- Oops? - Terry raised his eyebrow at that sudden response, - Max, don't tell me...

- ...I forgot to tell you about math test that will be on next Monday.

- You have a talent to lift my spirit, - sighed Terry, when suddenly Batmobile picked up a signal from nearby restaurant. The sensors automatically zoomed in, revealing five men in masks and bland cloth, surrounding one old man. Judging by poses and gestures, it was something intense, - ...wait, something is happening.

- What?

- Night-time story from grandpa.

Batmobile dropped Batman from the hatch-pod, and he quickly engaged optical camo system while gliding down, towards the restaurant platfrom. Silently dropping on the platfrom, Terry quickly crouched towards the group, hearing the conversation:

- ...give me at least thirty percent! - it was the old man, who was forcefully dropped on his knees and was held by one brute by the shoulders, - I can't pay you forty, I will broke!

- Look, grandpa, it's simple math - if you will pay us fifty, you will get other fifty, no profit for you, no money for the boss, - one of the men sit in front of the "grandpa", taking out retractable baton and slowly patting it on old man's knee, - But you get sixty, ten percent more than you need to make profit! Our boss sees it as a...good compromise. The other option, however, is to break your knees and visit you later with sixty percent offer, - old man started to shake and gone pale as criminal kept bumping the end of the retractable baton to his knee, - And if you refuse that offer, we break your arms, and will charge seventy percent in the visit after that.

- You should've been this persistent at school.

The first batarang ran into the nosebridge of a brute, who quickly fell down on his back unconscious. Quickly charging in, Batman took another brute with two strikes - foot to the knee and his own knee to the chest. Other three rushed in to attack, relentlessly overpowering Terry with a quick strikes of their batons and pushing him towards the edge of the platform. In one moment, though, he managed to grab one of the batons and deliver a quick strike to the head to one of the racketeers. The other one managed to sidestep, while Terry was distracted, and got his hands from behind, pushing them down and trying to get Terry on his knees. Seeing the incoming strike of the baton, Batman lowered his head just in time and used the position to throw the thug over himself, right into the another attacker. The result was beautiful - one table and several chairs were in pieces, but it was a small price for several seconds of pause. Terry used them wisely, quickly handcuffing both of the racketeers. The same procedure went for other men, and soon enough all five racketeers were on the floor with faces down and unmasked.

- Sorry for the mess, - he threw a gesture to his back, pointing at broken table and chairs, - Are you alright?

- T-thats fine, B-Batman..thank you, but, I am afraid, they will come back...just in several month.

- First time in Gotham? - he asked, while picking out the one racketeer, who was the talkative one.

- Y-Yes...moved from the Canada, the local government helped a little with choosing the place...but I never thought that such criminals would be so bald and aggressive, - the old man was sweating and he was trying to get his bearings after the initial shock, - Such questions in my country were discussed by the table with the respect for each other...and reasonable percentage.

- ...you are knew on the street, - he finally found the one, who was talking with the old man. A typical portrait - man in his thirties, with a hardened look, which was not so hardened anymore. Terry lifted him in the air, staring right into his eyes, - Guess you don't have a name for a gang even, because only idiots shaking restaurants for forty percents a month.

- L-look, we are really new, but who cares? We gonna walk out in, what, six month? We didn't even hurt the old man of the furniture, that's what you di!...

- Next time there will be no restaurant for me to hold back, and next time you will stop at hospital for some years before prison. That clear? - Terry was still training in his "Batman talk", but he had his own style - in some manners similar to original Batman, in some - quite different.

- ...y-yeah, c-clear.

- And I have an advice for you, - Terry let out the racketeer, turning towards the old man, while quickly looking at the restaurant sign and pushing the right button to recall the Batmobile, - ...talk to Maroni family, they love that business, so they will charge you five percent with a protection goon enough, to throw those amateurs before they even think about it...the police will be soon, so sit tight.

- T-thanks, Batman!

Silently noding, Terry charged towards the end of the platform, where Batmobile was slowly descending. Jumping on the vehicle, Terry got inside vehicle and dashed away, while police flying cars were moving from the opposite direction.

- ...So...what was that all about? - Max connected again, immediately asking how another "adventure" went.

- Amateur racketeers from Moron-City. Tried to push old man with new restaurant to pay forty percent. Told him to visit Maroni.

- Why?

- You have to compromise something when you do...the Batman stuff, - sighed McGinnis wearily, - The first thing we both learned, is that racketeers will be always there, no matter how hard you will press them. It's about picking less greedy and most adequate one.

- So you send this old man to Maroni, because it's the lesser option?

- Either that, or some amateurs like that from today will come, charging forty percent and being total nutheads..., - he paused for a bit, sighing again, - It's not ideal choice, but you have to learn how to make most of it...that's his words, yeah, and nights like this help me understand what he is trying to tell me.

- ...you know, Maroni is not a bad choice, if you think of it. What was the shop that old man was holding?

- Restaurant, with Italian kitchen.

- Even better. They can have those crazy Italian weddings and mafia ceremonies, like in those old stories!

- You know, Max, no one does that anymore. Times changed...by the way, if you want to be the eye in sky, you need to learn few things about groundwork.

- Like the old time that old man used me? - grumbled Max annoyingly.

- ...a little bit safer. Get on the videolink and be quiet.

The outskirts of Gotham City were still a good place to be, but the living on main levels of this mega-city was...difficult. Many poor or outright homeless people were here, living in a dark places with the shining neon above them. Same places were inside the main city with the building and even streets of the old Gotham before renovation. Streets and poverty like that were the reason for crime to thrive...but there were also other people who thrived there. Terry found a street and quickly jumped down from the Batmobile, looking around. Since it was already night, there were not so many people around here, but even in daytime you couldn't find anyone on the street, outside of the hobo's and gangs. The streets were clean, to some degree - the locals were trying to deal with the trash by themselves. Walking towards the makeshift camp of homeless people, Terry always was on the watch around here - the police rarely patrolled such areas, and the criminal activity here was even higher than in upper levels. The most, probably, horrifying thing about it was the absence of knowledge of such criminal activities.

- Batman, you came sooner, that I expected, - he heard a voice, coming from makeshift tent. Inside the tent was an old man, who was slightly smiling into his beard. Terry never knew name's true name, because he kept calling himself Ears, - Calm night?

- Pretty much, - he replied, looking around the camp, - How's everybody hanging?

- Same. Sure, some attention and pressure helps - we will get some small flats in upper level soon...guess someone pressed the mayor's office? - Ears smiled again, looking closely at Batman.

- Yeah, they were not so happy about possible leak of their corruption activity, - Terry crossed his hand on his chest, turning the attention towards the Ears, - How are you?

- You always so worried about everybody, Batman...and to see that this is genuine makes my old heart warm, - Ears found his flask with the water and drank a little sip before continuing, - I will be fine while you are staying the same, that's for sure...but you are here to knew something I picked on the street.

- Yeah. As always. What's gonna happen?

- Nothing too major...at least in next three days, but! - Ears raised his forefinger, - There was a robbery a week ago, a whole train of private corporative munitions derailed due to sabotage. And, lucky we, somehow no one was guarding that train for at least an hour after it derailed.

- ...go on. The weapons went to the black market?

- And sold like a hot pies. Plasma casters, laser rifles, grenades, some high-tech science mambo-jambo, that sorta stuff...of course it's deeply underground, and secretive, but there are always idiots who can't keep their mouth shut, - Ears smiled again, now sarcastically, - So, one of those idiots was talking about with another idiot about raiding the mansion of a rich girl.

- What was her name?

- Let me...ehm...let me find the notes, - Ears quickly started to search around his tent. Soon enough he found an old notebook and put on his glasses, listing the pages, - No, no, not that...a! That's it, her name is Deanna Clay...you know her? - Ears glanced at Terry, because hearing that name made him tense and he clenched his fists.

- Yes. Wish I hadn't...when they are preparing the attack?

- Somewhere next week, they were talking about security systems, remote access to global network and other stuff. And before you ask - no, nothing else came up recently.

- Thanks...stay safe, alright?

- Will do, Batman, - Ears saluted Batman in joking manner before he left the camp.

- ...that name actually rings a bell, - said Max thoughtfully.

- It's Inque's daughter, - Terry responded wryly, while jumping inside the Batmobile and taking off, - I was wandering where Inque was after she escaped from Justice League several month ago.

- You think she was behind the train wreck and those thugs?

- ...no, she is the one who prefers do it personally...she wasn't behind the train wreck to get weapons to black market and only than arm the mercenaries to do the job. She would either buy the mercenaries, or, as I said, do it herself...anyway, now I need to baby-sit her daughter because she made a move on Inque, that pissed her off.

- Remind me, what move was that?

- She tried to wash her from the inside...wait, I have a call, hold on, - as Terry switched the frequency, his eyebrows rose up. With a little hesitation, he accepted the call, switched Max to listen only and said, - Commissioner, I broke that table.

- I know, - Barbara Gordon sounded more wearily than usual, and that could mean one thing - something bad happened, - But that is not the reason I am calling you...Batman. Several days ago patrol was checking anonymous call about old chemical plant working again. They were attacked and rendered unconscious, no traces left behind...except for chemical components and all patrolmen reporting, how something black and slimy was blocking their mouth and nose. Sounds familiar?

- Pretty much.

- You know something, - it was a fact, and Terry always wondered, how Gordon could knew something like this.

- Black market is full of weapons from the trainwreck that happened week ago, - he started to explain the facts, he knew, - Some of these weapons will be used to raid Inque's daughter's mansion in near future, and I don't have information about those people being hired be Inque or if they are doing it on their own.

- ...you know, who's company that train is?

- Hit me.

- "Wayne-Powers".

- What?! - Terry nearly crashed into a building during the turn when Gordon hit him with that news.

- Yes. It looks like sabotage, and they are pressing that version in press...but there are a lot of things wrong with this whole situation.

- Tell you what - I get you that thugs with weapons intact, and the police will have more evidence with eye-witnesses to work with.

- Was going to propose myself, but you got it first. And...Batman, Curare escaped from her prison, this just came in. It would be appreciated if you happen to apprehend her, if she will enter the city.

- Noted, - after a slight pause, Terry noted something, that was on a tip of his tongue, - ...this is the first time we did this. Talked to each other like that.

- Don't push it, kid, it's only because there were too many calm nights. And I know better than anyone - if there's too many calm nights in Gotham, something major will happen. And that train with Inque sighted and Curare escaping, I believe my guts even more. I can put our differences and overlook more things than usual...for now.

- Got it. Any other leads?

- Not right now...Those weapons, you said they were for a week on blackmarket? You didn't happen to know, what kind of?

- Plasma casters, lasers, high-tech gear - my source didn't know much. Why you asked?

- The manifest of that train suggests, that only datachips and other computer equipment was stolen.

- Figures. They want to cover it up, - Terry nodded to himself, while carefully driving along the streets of upper Gotham, - Maybe I should pay Paxton a visit.

- No, you will do enough for now with that thug group. I wish I could help you, but we experiencing massive personnel dismissal.

- How bad is it?

- Bad enough to keep you off the working out on the streets for several nights straight...enough of chit-chat. If you happen to have anything, you know how to contact me.

- Will do, Commissioner, - with Barbara Gordon singing off, Terry returned Max back, - You heard all of it.

- Yeah, and already trying to dig up why cops are leaving the police department...but it could take a while. Talk tomorrow day?

- Yup. Just gonna...do the homework.

- So, you want to talk about it now?

Terry sighed as Max rushed towards him after the day in college was over. More to it, he planned to actually drive immediately towards Wayne's manor, but she already was in his way.

- What to talk about, Max? I don't know, if after that we can come together at all.

- You can tell me, what happened - who can understand a woman, if not another woman?

- ...Fine, - Terry sighted again, nodding towards his bike, - You know how she can be angry at times, when I miss our dates due to...work with mister Wayne.

- And?

- And I missed all our dates several weeks ago, - grumbled Terry, sitting on his bike and putting helmet on. He crossed his hands together on a rudder, staring forward for a while, - ...she was shouting, a lot, and it didn't helped that I can't tell her how I work for mister Wayne.

- Boy, that's really bad...but maybe it's better for both of you.

- How so?

- She can think about it in the meantime and dig around her heart to understand her feeling, - Max looked over her shoulder, spotting Dana in the distance along with other students. Terry spotted to, so he turned away quickly, - ...I know how it sounds, but she will think about it, give her time...a lot of time, it's not something woman will decide right away.

- Are you girls always so complicating?

- Says the most complicated person in the whole college, - Max smiled and pat Terry on his helmet lightly, - Nose up, McGinnis...and if you need help, you can ask me to...

- I had a specific instruction from mister Wayne, Max, - Terry turned seriously to her, starting the engine on the bike, - Maybe...one day he will give it a go, but right now he only started to soften up...you will be online as usual?

- Of course I will, who will help you otherwise? - she asked playfully, stepping away from the bike, - But you gotta to teach me that mister Wayne's method of sleeping less and feeling myself like I was hit by maglev train.

- You got my technique to master, Max, - he smiled a bit, closing his helmet's visor before dusting off towards Wayne's manor.

Mister Wayne was absent for three days straight - some emergency company meeting from another part of the globe. Something like this happened a lot during his Batman career, and with Max on board, it was much easier...with with Wayne Terry felt protection and reliance that he couldn't yet feel from Max. It's no wonder, though, but Max tried to be of better help from each encounter, and for that Terry was thankful.

Wayne took Ace with him as a source of protection and companionship, so the whole manor felt even more depressingly empty and devoid of life. The duty was usual - get in, check the perimeter, check the manor, sleep for three hours and get to "work". The work was also usual - checking news from the channels and forums, solving minor cases with the help of Batcomputer (which was troubling still, despite constantly using it), read some material Wayne provided to improve skills, check the dossier on past and present criminals, check the most wanted list, maintain the Batmobile. After that you can go on patrol of the city, contacting Max via private and secure orbital satelite...well, mostly secure - Wayne mentioned that Edward Nigma was able to tap into his frequency lots of times, despite the measures to prevent such things, but there were not so many people like Edward Nigma on Earth at his time, and probably there are not so many right now.

The duty was simple - check on snitches from time to time, bust some punks on the streets, break into someones private life in search for clues, nothing usual...but something was really off. When Wayne left Gotham, the crime rate started to drop, little by little, and several days after his talk with Ears Terry knew what Barbara meant by "too many calm nights" - he couldn't remember so many night with so little crime on the streets. Splicers? Hiding. Jokerz? Too. Other gangs stopped waging war, and snitches have no idea why, but words on the streets were talking about those weapons from train wreck

It was all quite until Firday, when Terry found some time to watch over the Deanna's manor:

- Maybe they want to hide because they got these weapons and they don't to get any attention? - asked Max one night, when Terry shared his concerns about Gordon being right.

- Maybe. I was trying to get someone to talk, but almost all gangs layed low underground, - Terry was speaking quietly while being on the roof of a high building and observing the mansion of Deanna Clay - a vast one, with such luxury style that it could make anyone puke, rich or poor, - ...and it seems our spoiled princess is doing fine.

- Wasn't she charged with...something?

- Money is power. And she got a lot of money...but not a lot of brains, - Terry leaned in, watching the aerocar approaching, - ...hey, Max, can you get into GCPD and search for aerocar with the license plate of M0N3Y-4-M3.

- ...really?

- I saw worse.

- Alright, searching...it belongs to...some house cleaning corporation, the vehicle was stolen just yesterday.

- Figures, gotta go..., - he stopped in his tracks, as he watched a shadow climbing over the side of the building, and climbing fast.

- Terry?

- It's Inque, she's here! - he quickly jumped into Batmobile, turning it towards the mansion.

Terry was cursing his position - he couldn't find any closer to the mansion without the risk being detected, and Batman shouldn't be detected. Right now he wasted precious seconds, watching helplessly at the zoomed in monitor, which showed how criminals, dressed as cleaners, got in, killed two guards right on the spot with perfect clean shot and moved inside the mansion. It was a large group, counting to ten men led by very strange guy in a strange suit with closed helmet. Inque, on the other hand, was moving on the roof, and she found the group inside the main hall, that had glass walls even on the second floor. As she extended her arm into tentacle, she quickly pierced the glass in one strike, grabbed the leg of one of the thugs and threw him out of the mansion platform. Terry had to use the special netgun on Batmobile to capture the poor bastard, so he would not become a flat pie. Firing a several gas grenades inside the mansion, Batman quickly dropped down near pool and rolled to the side, getting away from massive covering fire. Another thug suddenly yelled as he was thrown to the pool with pieces if glass inside his skin and suit, and after that other thugs quickly left the smoke...except for one guy, that Inque grabbed by his knee and broke it in one quick twist, while other tentacle pulled the agonizing men inside the smoke.

- Fire! - barked the guy in a strange suit, pointing at smoke, - She got him anyway!

- Never saw her like that, - Terry took a peek from his cover, but he quickly was spotted by thugs, as some of them opened fire. Laser shots pierced through the walls and decorative urns, but for now the cover would hold.

- Give me a frag! - barked the suit-thug. Soon he got himself a large cylindric object in left hand, while getting closer to the pool of water. It was clear as day - when Inque storm out of the smoke, the grenade will be dropped inside the pool and it will wash her over. It was a choice of several seconds, but Terry had to decide quickly, and he did what he thought would be right.

- Inque, cover! - he shouted as loud as he could, throwing several prepared batarangs in a succession at the suit-thug. Some batarangs were shot down by laser fire, but it took just one hit to the wrist to drop the fragmentation grenade inside the pool.

Inque in the meantime was about to jump from the smoke towards the thugs, but she quickly changed her pace and rushed towards the cover, where Batman was. The grenade inside the pool exploded just in time she reached the cover and Terry took beach umbrella to extend it towards the flowing water.

- I help you get these guys, but no killing or breaking their tech, - said Batman, preparing another batarangs in both of his hands.

- Deal, - she quickly responded, with her voice trembling from anger, - But you need more than two.

- I am not that slow learner, - said Terry, throwing two batarangs in a succession.

The first one was a flashbang - the thugs were blinded for a while, but another another stuck into the ground and started to discharge electrical battery. Since the whole floor and cloth were in the water, that transmitted electrical charge good enough, all thugs suddenly tensed and dropped down.

- ...the one in the suit, - Inque suddenly spoke, - He is not here.

- I am here!

Inque shouted as she felt electrical discharge eating at her body, and she felt limp for a moment. Terry got lucky - he just got a fist to the face that made the vision blur from the static for a moment. Quickly getting up, he saw the suit-thug planting his fist right into Inque's head with another one held towards Batman:

- No-no-no, hands up, Bats, or Inque will be dissolved...again, right?...but I will make it sure this time for you.

- What do you want from here? - he asked, while holding his hands slowly up, looking at Inque from time to time.

- Money of that pretty lady that lives in such pretty house, of course! - Terry looked at Inque, as she extended a new tentacle from her body to slowly crawl it around the leg of the suit-guy, - ...and gotta admit, I don't have to share that money with anyone else, thanks to both of you!...now, - he clenched his fist a little, sending low current through the Inque, who started to growl from the pain that was coursing though her body, - I don't have all day to chit-chat, so hands behind your head, on your knees and face to the ground, - as Batman slowly began to comply, the thug in a suit continued to mock Inque, while constantly looking from Batman to Inque and back, - Never knew Inque would be fighting for good guys. What made you change your mind, sweetheart?...I said, what made you change your mind!

When thug was not looking at him, Terry was fast enough to nod Inque. Quickly turning on his knees to the side, he shot an explosive batarang from his wrist-launcher towards the arm, that was holding Inque right now. The explosion did the right thing - the thug in a suit shouted as his arm moved from the explosion away from Inque, and he shouted even more when Inque grabbed him by his leg and smashed against the wall several times, until the helmet finally cracked on several pieces. While she was holding the thug by his leg, she was looking at Batman for a long time before she threw thug towards Batman feet:

- That trash is yours. Sorry for helmet...Now...what you will do?

- Check on your daughter first, - he pushed his fingers to check the pulse, and while there was a faint one, the guy took quite a beating to the head, even despite the protection, - I haven't seen her during attack.

- I will check the perimeter. Secure my daughter, Batman...and after that we will talk, - she quickly started to run all over the manor, checking every corner and every shadow.

First things first - handcuffing the cleaning party, and the Batmobile, thanks to mister Wayne, had a lot of spare handcuffs and riot nets. Second thing - check on the thugs, stop their bleeding, because Inque despite her relentlessness managed to not kill anybody. Only after that Batman rushed inside the manor, sometimes bumping into Inque, who was relentlessly searching the manor. He rushed towards the second floor to find the locked door, which he just opened with a kick to the handle. But after he kicked the door Batman walked back towards the ladders and shouted downstairs:

- Inque, second floor.

She came in as fast as she could, and when she entered the room in her towering malformed form, she stopped right into her tracks before slowly approaching the bed, where her daughter lied with a lot of medical machinery attached to her. Batman stood aside a little, watching Inque slowly approaching her daughter's bed. Deanna was sleeping, and judging by how strong she was sleeping during the whole fight, she was either in coma or under medical drugs.

- Wha...what...what happened to her? - asked Inque, making her right tentacle into a hand and maintaining it long enough to gently pat her daughter on the forehead.

- I don't know, I see her myself like that for the first time. Alfred, - Terry quickly reached out to Max, - Check the medical records for Deanna Clay.

- You just wanted to name my that way, don't you?...on it, it will take some time.

- ...I hope it's not what I fear it is..., - said Inque quietly, staring at her daughter without movement.

- You know something, that could cause her...condition?

- ...more than something, - she rose up and turned towards him, towering over Batman but looking broken as never before, - I can't go again to prison, not now, Batman, especially not now...and I..I need you h...he-hea...

- ...help?

- ...yes, that one, - she slowly walked towards him, without any menacing intentions, but Terry was ready to fight with her again. She leaned a bit forward, looking right at him with her big white oval ornament instead of human face, - Our last encounters were...not the best ones, but you can change that.

- Me. Not you.

- We are talking right in front of my sick daughter, Batman, which I will protect from anything, - she quickly stepped backwards, crossing her tentacled arms together, - And if this means to change...something, I will. But I can only do it with your help.

- ...Alright. We are talking, and that's a progress, so I will hear you out, but it better be without any tricks.

- No tricks, it's pretty straightforward, - she made a pause, trying to gather her thoughts, but she was nervously looking back at Deanna. Terry knew how she felt, so he kept silent until she spoke again, - I need your resources to make stabilizers for me. Your old man, whoever it is, probably has connections, because you are not that smart to afford such toys.

- Don't push it, Inque.

- You can't hold a grudge against the truth...but you are right, - she sighed and continued, leaning again forward to Batman, - If you can provide me the resources...and maybe some work that your old man could pay me for, I will change sides.

- Just like that? - he raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

- Money doesn't smell, Batman, - she quickly responded back, - But, of course, I won't go into prison, and while I am at it...I can share my experience with you. It will take time, of course.

- Slow learner, got it...and I guess I need to decide now, judging by how bad you are looking right now.

- ...bad?

- You can't?...wait, - Terry quickly approached the floor mirror and move it towards Inque, who gasped from the sudden surge of fear. She was looking not just bad, she was slowly decomposing right on the spot, with her goo slowly dripping on the floor from her body. What was worse in this situation is the fact that Inque couldn't feel her body being dissolved, like it was before.

- ...you need to decide now. I need stabilizer, Batman, and quick, - she approached him slowly and tried to hold him by his shoulders, but the tentacle arms just smashed against Batman and slid lazely down, - ...what will it be?

- ...do you remember the bag?

- You can't be~

- I will let you out once we are in place, - he crossed his arms together, looking straight at Inque, - If you want me to trust you, you will have to trust me too.

- Fine, - she responded with annoyance, while poking Batman with a tentacle arm to his chest, - I'll get into the bag, but if I will go inside prison again, I will broke out and I will drown you inside me.

- ...oddly specific. Let's move one, before she wakes up and cops will arrive - judging by the machinery, she is visited frequently by doctors. For now she will be fine.

The idea of having a nemesis, who thrashed the Batcave once and nearly killed you, inside that Batcave again was not so inspiring, to say the least. But there was a remedy to it - before he opened the airtight bag, he released Inque inside the secure plastyglass sphere, which was inside the pool of water. It was prepared specially for her since the encounter inside the Batcave, in case of scenarios of apprehending her.

Inque was not happy about it:

- You told me to trust you, liar! I swear, you better keep me here, because when I will come out, I will be freakishly mad! - Inque already opened a panel of the speaker inside her container only to find out that it was wireless, - Damn it!

- Let me remind you, that you broke inside the Batcave, trashed the place like a punk, and...yeah, that kiss of death was so romantic, - seeing that Inque got herself together a bit after that retort, Batman continued, - I need your sample to analyze it and to see, what kind of chemical stabilizers you need.

- You could've asked, because I can cook them myself.

- If you can, why you are in such state? - Terry walked towards the Inque's cage, crossing his arm together.

- ...I hurried when I should've waited, - she replied in a much calmer tone, - And I need stronger stabilizers, higher doses, more volumes of mass. It's not all about stabilizing the degradation, it's also about losing the mass due do it. How to make mass, I know, it's simple...comparing to stabilization.

- Then give me a sample, Inque. I will analyze it, and maybe we can find a better...solution.

- Fine, fine...here? - she pointed in the small opened tray.

- Here.

The tray had five airtight chambers, all filled with water when they were not in use, so it took a while to get sample from the "water cage" to Batcomputer. Now it was the hardest job - to look smart and try to be smart in front of your probably worst faced enemy. Some of the knowledge Terry picked about pharmacology came in handy, since it was heavily connected with chemistry...but not to the point Terry could understand everything. After several hours of research and amateur experiments, he finally gave up and rolled away from the Batcomputer, staring at the results of his work. Inque at least was quite, but her condition worsened by the hour - even the sample started to dissolve.

- That's worse than I thought, - he finally said, stepping away from the Batcomputer.

- Tell me about it, - responded Inque sarcastically, - May I say that you know crap about chemistry?

- Yeah, but I got several leads to people that could help your condition...and I got this, - he took out a tube from the centrifuge, showing Inque black liquid.

- My sample will so help me!

- ...it's a stabilizer based on your own mass, - he sighed again, - Basically...

- I need to sacrifice my unstable mass, blend the stable mass with right chemicals, apply them with the stable mass - been here, done that, look how it worked.

- But that's the right one.

- Look, I know myself, this...giant retro TV stand won't do any good, - she pointed towards the Batcomputer.

- It did. You just need to stop persist and to accept the help you asked from me.

- ...good point. But will you keep me here still?

- Answer that question yourself, - Terry took a glance back at the monitor of Batcomputer and suddenly felt the urge to yawn...which was hardly suppressed, - I will check on you in three-four hours, the other stabilizers will be ready, but they won't last long.

- Even Batman needs to sleep, - Inque said in a playful manner, watching as Terry was walking towards the ladders. But before he could leave, Inque said something that made him stop for a short while, - ...maybe it's for the best that you never show something like this. Old people talk about demon that comes at night, young folks like to discuss how Batman kicked someone's butt recently...even I was afraid of you the very first time we met...before you tried that stupid trick with a grate.

- Guess you are not afraid anymore, right?

- Not you at least, I have much worse enemy to deal with...I won't escape, I am too weak for it, despite that I know how to do it already. So, when you woke up...

- I will think about it. No promises, - said Terry, turning lights off and shutting the door behind him.

It's probably short, but you already see the idea, I suppose. And I hope I got you hooked.

I have to rest a bit and rethink my life choices, because I was writing this chapter all day with little to no rest.

As usual, criticism is welcomed. It's the only way to improve.

PS Easter egg hunt is on.