Issue 22:
Are You There God? It's Me, Doomsday
Bruce Wayne continued to sleep fitfully in his well decorated prison. The night in question he received a new nightmare allowing a brief respite from the continuous haunting from his parents' reanimated bodies. From a real memory as a boy it subtly crafted into something nearly true. His father attended a medical conference out west and decided to bring Bruce along with him.
After the boy spent three days cooped up in the five star hotel with cable and room service his father loudly declared they would visit a ranch outside the city before travelling home. They check out of the hotel the next morning and drove languidly through the scenic countryside. Sitting at the base of the mountain range the ranch proudly boasted an enormous barn where Bruce met some scruffy farm dogs and insistent barn cats.
The owner Walter was a weathered black man with a bristly white mustache and tan cowboy hat. Immediately Bruce felt drawn to his costume naively assuming a person had to wear chaps and boots to be a true cowboy. Walter had saddled the horses up before they arrived and he introduced Bruce to his mount for the day. She was a speckled gray mare named Patsy, and despite being the largest in the stable Walter assured the boy she was the gentlest of the lot.
"This must be Loveless," Thomas stated approaching the anxious black stallion saddled for him. Slowly he untied the horse from the hitching post whispering in his ear as Loveless snorted alertly. Bruce fed Patsy some sugar cubes and whispered to her mimicking his father. Soon they mounted up with Walter who climbed atop his chestnut gelding named Wilbur and they moved across the pasture towards the trails in the tree line.
Single file now Walter led them up into the mountains with Bruce in the middle and Thomas bringing up the rear on the stamping, impatient stallion. Not only did Patsy prove the gentlest horse in the stable she had run these trails for years and know every inch of them as well as she knew her own stall. Bruce found Patsy barely needed any guidance from the reins which he let hang loose since she steadily followed Wilbur.
For hours they climbed up the well-worn trail while Bruce greedily took in the sights and sounds of the gorgeous, mountainous region. Squirrels chased each other up and down the wide trunks chattering at their group as they passed. A rabbit froze on a bed of leaves staring at them with one black unblinking eye. The trees grew thinner and the air colder as they ascended.
Bruce gazed dreamily into the spotted blue sky as his father fought Loveless every step of the way. Unsatisfied the stallion yearned to run despite Thomas's tight grip. While Bruce ignored his horse for the scenery Patsy slowed and veered into a patch of young, tender grass. Thomas called up to Walter and wrestled Loveless to a halt.
"Give her a kick and steer her out, Bruce," his father encouraged. Bruce poked her ineffectively in the ribs but she ignored his weak spurring and skittish tugs on the reins. Not far ahead Walter hopped off Wilbur and came back to help.
"You can go on up there, Tom. There's a clearing just around the bend you can wait on us," Walt invited, "I know that one's a handful." So Thomas spurred the stallion along since he was champing at the bit. After he passed the mare and Walter, Loveless stopped in the middle of his proud canter when a large, black snake wiggled across the bare, dirt path in front of him.
Neighing with terror the horse reared up on its back legs desperately trying to backpedal. Amazingly his father held on trying to calm the animal but Loveless reared again tossing Thomas clear. Being the wise rancher he was Walter waited until the horse gained its footing before making an attempt to snag his reins. Unfortunately that never happened. As the stallion backpedalled he stepped off the path into a foot deep ravine and Bruce heard his leg painfully break under his own weight.
Nearly shrieking now the horse rolled back and forth attempting to stand but only causing himself more pain. Thankfully uninjured his father rushed over to Walter where he stood observing the helpless steed. Neither man said a word but after a pause Thomas looked up at Walter who shook his head no. Regretfully with a heavy sigh Walter slowly unslung the rifle from his back.
He said something too quiet for Bruce to hear over the horse's lament but Thomas shook his head this time. By now Bruce hopped off Patsy who kept shying away from the scene in front of her and he ran up to the men. He heard the sickly smooth draw of the well oiled slide as Walter loaded the gun. Surprisingly Thomas took the rifle from the old man when Walter held it out for him.
"What are you doing?" Bruce finally spoke.
"Loveless's leg is broken, Bruce. He's not going to make it," his father tried to explain.
"I know. That's why we need to help him!"
"How? We can't get a truck up here to get him out, and even if we do he'll never be the same. If a horse can't run he's not really a horse anymore. It's cruel. I'm so sorry this happened but it was just an accident. There's no one to blame."
"What about the snake? If it hadn't spooked him…" Bruce countered.
"The snake is only trying to survive, same as us. He was probably just as scared as Loveless."
"Then let Walter do it," Bruce bargained, "Why does it have to be you?"
"Because I bought these horses years ago from Walter: Loveless, Patsy and two more back at the barn. It wouldn't be right to ask Walter to do that. Now I need you to hold Patsy so she doesn't spook and leave us stranded. Can you do that?" his father asked sternly. Bruce nodded and returned to Patsy but no words came to comfort her. He merely held his head against hers watching his father. Thomas looked at his son and tried to explain one last time.
"You have to take care of what you own." But Bruce didn't understand and would in fact grow up not understanding the difference between a murder and a mercy. As he looked on he imagined or remembered how it would end, one clean shot through the heart. However his nightmare had different intentions and when Thomas Wayne pulled that trigger only more pain occurred. Loveless pawed pathetically at the ground screaming louder now.
Reloading he fired again and again into the horse as it spewed foam and blood from its mouth. No longer an animal it became a monster of dark blood and black flesh writhing beneath an unending hail of bullets. Staring at Bruce with dead, knowing eyes it opened its mouth and screamed like a human being. It screamed like his mother in the alley under the loud thunder of gunshots, but it wouldn't and couldn't die.
"You have to take care of what you own," the tortured beast repeated in the voice of his father. Bruce bolted awake in his beautiful bedroom somewhere in the deep grasp of SECURE. He rolled over to check the clock thoughtfully inset into the wall like the television. It read 8:12 AM and though it gave him little comfort he recognized uneasily that it was the first time he had slept completely through the night in over a decade.
After a shower Bruce watched Alfred enter with breakfast. He remained quiet as he ate while his mind continued cycling through his escape options only to grow frustrated. He commented to his Alfred that he still searched for a way out but refrained from asking his friend any questions as requested. Surprisingly Alfred took the opportunity to assure him there was a way out, a quite simple solution in fact, but as he took the dishes away he offered no more direction.
As he worked out on the chin up bar Bruce thought about every death trap he had ever escaped like sound amplification chambers or shark filled aquarium tanks. However nothing he remembered seemed applicable in this infuriating situation. Honestly nothing about his imprisonment seemed malicious in any way. No one had harmed him and his most trusted accomplice appeared to be working with them without any sign of coercion.
Then an idea came to him so absurd he almost laughed it off. This possible solution would never work in any previous experience he had, but the rules here appeared to function differently than they would involving a known enemy. There was no structural weakness to exploit or dimwitted guard to take advantage of or trick.
Perhaps these people wanted him to think outside his usual box and this solution was certainly something he never tried before today. It was both elegantly simple and absolutely ridiculous at the same time. Bruce approached the door to his gilded cell and knocked.
"Yes Master Bruce?" Alfred's voice responded through a small speaker in the locking mechanism.
"May I be released?" he asked quietly.
"Yes Master Bruce," Alfred responded and this time he heard relief washing over his voice. Immediately a click sounded as the lock retracted and the door opened to reveal a smiling Alfred on the other side. They were in a long hallway where two armed guards stood paying them no attention.
"Please take me to them," Bruce requested and without a word Alfred led him down the hall to another inconspicuous door. He motioned for Bruce to enter then briskly turned to walk back the way they came. Pausing for a moment Bruce steadied himself preparing for whatever new surprise waited him on the other side then entered.
Inside he found a room tastefully decorated like his cell only it centered on a large, round table. There was another door behind that leading into another room but it stood closed. On a purple velvet couch along the side of the wall Bruce noticed his adopted daughter stretched out on the couch watching him. She looked so grown up and so beyond the way he remembered her. Bruce realized it wasn't his face in the mirror but all the pupils and wards he took on over the years, they strong armed him into recognizing time was indeed passing.
"Cassandra," he called.
"Hi Bruce, I'm glad you could finally join us," Cassandra Cain responded monotonly.
"What are you doing here? Are you involved in this? Did they hurt you?" Bruce asked.
"Involved? It's better not to ask me questions. You'll only end up hearing echoes," she claimed. Before Bruce could ask her to clarify the door in the back opened to Selina Kyle and Jezebel Jet discussing something in hushed tones. Simultaneously they sat at the table motioning for him to join them. Bruce sat on the other side as Selina turned to their third member still holding down the couch.
"Do you want to have a seat?" Selina asked her.
"Want to?" Cassandra repeated blowing her dark bangs out of her face. Selina ignored her and turned back to Bruce.
"What did you do to the Justice League?" Bruce demanded stiffly.
"We sent them away…most of them," Jezebel responded casually.
"How many did you kill?" Bruce pushed.
"Ninety four," she answered without pause. Quickly Bruce looked away and closed his eyes. His brow furrowed as he painfully imagined a list of names.
"If it's any consolation," Cassandra chimed in from the couch, "we killed a lot more of them than we did of us." For a moment Bruce felt the room shift under his chair and he very nearly lost control. Luckily everyone paused to wait on his response. Finally he set his elbows on the table glaring at the two before him.
"What do you want?" he demanded firmly.
"What do you want?" Cassandra repeated and all three remained silent.
"I want you to stop what you're doing. This isn't the way," he insisted.
"Isn't it?" Jezebel asked, "What was that promise you made to your parents? Something about ridding Gotham from the evil that plagues it. What happens when you die, Bruce, when all you do is staunch the flow of blood? You tell us this isn't the way but you're wrong. It's definitely better than your way. It's the only way! The real question becomes, is that promise you made to your dead blood worth more than your promise to the blood still living?"
In front of him a holographic screen projected up from a panel built into the table. On the screen Bruce saw Damian on surveillance videos patrolling the streets as well as a fight with Clayface and Killer Croc he handled masterfully. Then he saw Damian surrounded by Batman's enemies going one on one with Lady Shiva.
"This is my favorite part," Cassandra said excitedly as Damian speared Lady Shiva with a shoulder tackling her to the ground.
"Yeah!" Cassandra cheered and instinctually Bruce thought it was a mistake getting in that close with her. Then he saw his enemies cheering for his son against SECURE. Next he saw Joker dressed in his old Batsuit followed by images and him and his son training around Gotham.
"I guess Batman never really dies," Selina quipped pointedly. Bruce slammed his fist on the table.
"This is completely out of control! Do you have any idea what you're doing? Put a bullet in my head but this? You've destroyed everything and my son!" he couldn't even finish because he was so upset.
"Bruce, you need to see the world we're building first, at least give us that much. Talk to the people who make up SECURE and ask them what it's worth. We didn't force Damian to make the choices he's made, and he's only doing what he thinks is best despite how misguided it may be," Selina stated.
"Didn't force," Cassandra emphasized.
"Anything to get out of this room," Bruce agreed standing, "You've all lost your minds."
"We only want to help you, Bruce," Jezebel claimed but he didn't answer.
Possibilities raced through his mind like a fever as Bruce exited the room and made the long walk down the empty hallway. None of this made any sense to him. A coalition formed from his lovers and family rose up with the obvious backing of governments of many powerful nations to wage a war against the super powered individuals he fought endlessly. Only they accomplished in such a short span of time a world without heroes and villains something he previously believed to be impossible.
Following the exit arrows through the lonely corridors Bruce eventually reached heavy double doors leading outside. They opened on a barren desert landscape without as much as a tree or blade of grass in sight. The ground was fine, tan dust that illustrated the ever changing breeze. Immediately the heat and humidity change bore down on him and he saw no signs of life along the flat horizon. Before him lay a small town unlike anything he had ever seen in the desert.
Everywhere life flourished out here in the nothingness. People moved up and down the streets chatting with each other happily. Groups of children played politely at a jungle gym on the corner while mothers lined the benches under wide umbrellas. Buildings lined the main avenue of town that ended at the SECURE facility he just exited.
Around the main street small houses expanded out dotting the wasteland in a large semicircle. Next to him Bruce noticed two unarmed guards standing on either side of the doors under the shady awning. The woman approached him first reluctantly.
"Excuse me sir," she said, "I just want to say what an honor it is to meet you. I've been a big fan of you since I was little."
"What's your name?" Bruce asked stoically.
"Virginia," she answered brown hair blowing in the breeze.
"What's your rank?"
"Oh we don't have ranks. We all just pitch in to the best of our abilities," she explained.
"How did you join SECURE?"
"The same way everyone else did. Someone came to me, offered me an opportunity to make a change for the better," Virginia said, "I was waiting tables at the time. I had it kind of rough growing up and never had any family to fall back on. I was just a nobody, another face in Gotham you might have saved from some maniac.
Sometimes I would wonder if there was something I could do and if there was anybody else who felt the same. Then I met SECURE and I knew I wasn't alone. They trained us to defend ourselves and others. I couldn't believe how many people there were and it only seemed to grow.
There were doctors and scientists, really smart people all the way down to me who didn't know anything. It didn't matter though. They welcomed us all and put us to work building places like this." She motioned at the town in front of them.
"What is it?" he asked and she looked at him quizzically.
"It's home…to them at least. It's a place where no one suffers needlessly from tyrant suns or alien invasions, a safe place. Even in the harshest environments they flourish without the constant anxiety you get in a place like Gotham. From what I understand this is the prototype for the rest of the world. They want everywhere to be as peaceful as this place." For a few moments they stood silently observing the town before Bruce turned to the other guard.
This man appeared beyond middle aged and a bit pudgy. Nervously he looked away when he noticed Bruce's attention. He remained pale despite his station in the desert. Something about his demeanor almost caused Bruce to leave him alone until he looked back at Virginia who urged him on with a nod. Slowly he made his way over to the distracted man.
"Excuse me," Bruce said.
"Yes sir," the man answered staring straight ahead.
"May I ask you a few questions?" Bruce asked.
"Of course sir, my name is Greg," he reached out and they shook.
"I'm Bruce. What do you think about SECURE?"
"It's…better than nothing. No disrespect of course," Greg clarified.
"Are you originally from Gotham?"
"Yes, I was born and raised there."
"How did you join SECURE?" Bruce asked and the man winced as though he was struck. It seemed this was the question he hoped to avoid.
"I-My daughter was killed during an attack on Gotham," Greg said quietly.
"I'm sorry. Do you mind if I ask what happened?"
"No sir, it was during Christmas and Joker blew up a series of toy stores. We were standing outside looking at the model trains in the window. A piece of glass-" he stopped and choked up.
"I remember that year. I caught up with Joker the next night but that night I was-" Bruce recalled but Greg cut him off.
"You were putting an end to a gang battle on the East End. Saving countless lives, I know that for a fact."
"I'm very sorry I wasn't there," Bruce apologized only for Greg to shake his head vigorously.
"There's nothing for you to be sorry for. You do more for this world than just about anyone. More than we ever should have asked. Joker is the one who should be sorry and he will be," Greg promised. Bruce changed the topic from that still sensitive topic.
"Nina Randall. She was five. I visited her grave after the service," Bruce stated.
"You remember her!" Greg exclaimed, "But why her grave? What made you visit?"
"I've been to all their graves. I remember every last one of them," he explained and waited for Greg to continue.
"After we lost Nina things changed. Her mother forgave me but she couldn't stand to look at me anymore. Eventually we divorced and I just didn't know how to go on. All the color seemed gone like Nina took it all with her. Worked some shitty jobs to pay rent and drank mostly. Then one day I get a knock on my door. This beautiful woman barges in with a briefcase.
I remember distinctly thinking how beautiful she was. It was one of the first real things I remember thinking after losing Nina. Anyway she pulled out a picture of my daughter and introduced herself as Jezebel. I was lucky I guess. Not everyone got recruited by one of the Tripping Darlings, that's what they call themselves. She said I was important and needed for something.
She said I could help stop what happened to Nina from happening to anyone else. To me it wasn't much of a decision. I joined then and there. They ran us through training and got me some counseling. To be able to talk to someone about losing Nina was great. I came on four months before the first operation and they were already up and running. Now their bases have spread to every major city," Greg finished seemingly content.
"Sir?" Victoria approached from behind him.
"Please call me Bruce."
"Bruce, I don't mean to speak out of turn but there have been whispers about some things SECURE has done. Some people say we're the bad guys. Are we?" she wondered innocently. Bruce sat on the wide staircase lacking a response.
"I think this has all gone beyond good and bad. I wouldn't want to answer that question at this point. I feel like I don't know anything anymore," Bruce stated regretfully.
"There are thousands and thousands with stories like ours," Victoria claimed, "all ready to fight the good fight in the name of Bruce, Martha, and Thomas Wayne." Bruce looked up at her with disbelief.
"Yes thank you so much," Greg agreed, "There are so many people who appreciate the fact that you started this whole operation." Before Bruce could formulate a response the doors of the facility swung open before Selina Kyle dressed in a t-shirt, shorts, and flip flops. Gracefully she twirled a wide umbrella against the sun. The guards guiltily resumed their posts without a word.
"Break time with the boss, huh?" she asked playfully, "It's my break too. Can I get an escort on my walk, boss?" Bruce stood nodding at Greg and Victoria while Selina coolly linked her arm through his. They walked down the steps onto the sidewalk.
"Isn't it refreshing to meet people who aren't absolute monsters?" she asked rhetorically.
"Why did you tell them I run SECURE?"
"They're good people and they deserve a noble cause to fight for. It's certainly served you well. More so because you can run it. You can use it to change the world."
"For the better?" he demanded, "At what cost do we get this?"
"The cost you already pay. The only one there is, the cost of everything. Don't you deserve to be happy? Doesn't Damian? They'll work you until you're used up, a husk of the glory you are today. Are your enemies worth that much more than us? You tell me the cost, Bruce, because I'm tired of playing around.
That should be obvious. I love you and that's all there is to it. Say you love me." They stopped on the sunny corner. Gently Bruce wrapped his massive arms around her and kissed her. Then he put his forehead against hers.
"I do love you but I can't do this," he sighed. Briskly she turned and entered the small antique store on the corner. A bell rang above as he followed behind her. The kindly old woman behind the counter greeted him and he found Selina standing in the corner.
"I'm scared Bruce," Selina began, "I'm scared of the future and the status quo we never stop living. I want things to change and end for good or bad. I don't care anymore. We deserve an ending, don't we?" He stared at her for a long moment then looked around again at the dim, hot store and its junk for sale.
All this time through the surprising twists and turns the detective's mind never stopped cataloguing everything he knew and could assume based on the information he gathered. Based on his interactions with SECURE Bruce successfully deduced their end goal and it horrified him. A few holes still remained on the how but he knew enough to extrapolate where all of this was going.
"You want me to help you and yet you continue to lie to me," Bruce accused.
"What have we lied about?" Selina asked coyly.
"First off this town, it's not real not any of it."
"And how do you know that?"
"I suspected it when we were on the street but in here it's obvious. There's no smell to any of it. The people should smell of sweat like you and I. This place should be filled with different odors like musty fabric, old wood, stain, and rust but there's nothing. That leads me to believe it's all an illusion base on light, a giant hologram," Bruce explained.
"Very astute detective. Regardless of whether it's real, the illusion is a perfect simulation of life without super powered people imposing their will upon the world. What I mean is it's real enough for our purposes. The guards, the facility, they're real and true. So what else have you learned?"
"You're not my Selina which means none of you are who you appear to be," Bruce stated.
"And how did you come to that conclusion?"
"First you don't kiss me like she does. Second you said you were afraid. She would never admit that to me no matter how scared she was which leads to the question what are you?"
"I'm impressed, Bruce. You're moving along faster than we expected, I admit. The short answer is we are your tools. We are the things that most people turn away from but you embrace. Or rather we are the aspects of those ideas. You've met aliens, gods, and spirits. We're nothing new really but we're yours. I am fear, Jezebel is vengeance, and Cassandra is darkness."
"That's why she echoes," Bruce mumbled to himself.
"Correct," she agreed, "What's occurring now is the culmination of events set into motion many years ago. It's the price you and the rest of the world pays."
"But why?" Bruce asked the last question he still couldn't answer.
"Because we love you. We want to help you. It's that simple," Selina promised.
"None of this feels simple anymore," he objected but she gave no more reply.
Later that afternoon Bruce roamed the SECURE facility freely meeting the people who made up the organization. Most were civilians surprisingly quite a number of well educated women and men as well as some who served in some branch of military operation. However not a single one showed signs of powers or abilities. They were just normal people desperate to enact a positive impact on the world. The only thing the Tripping Darlings prohibited him from was unhindered access to their computer systems.
Eventually he found his way to the training area where he got a chance to work out with some troops. Bruce couldn't deny how good it felt to practice again but somewhere in the back of his mind he couldn't shake his concern for Gotham and the people there including his son. Sparring with a young recruit who showed promise Bruce was interrupted by a loud alarm and lights flashing throughout the large gym.
Immediately people sprang into action grabbing weapons and furiously sprinting towards their posts. A young woman dressed in a grey uniform approached him requesting his presence at the command center. She led him to a large war room filled with monitors and support staff.
"Thanks for coming," Jezebel said as he entered. All three of them still wore casual clothes and casual attitudes despite the bustling commotion happening around them.
"They're about to send the message," Cassandra volunteered as they grouped around a monitor toward the back of the room.
"I hope we convinced you because we're about to need some serious help," Jezebel said giving him a longing look. Silently he watched the screen that indicated an incoming message. Soon an image of his son in full costume appeared. Behind him stood Penguin profusely smoking his cigar and a bored looking Red Hood. Bruce sighed thankfully at the sight of Jason backing Damian. Despite their differences Bruce knew Jason would try his best to keep Damian from the mistakes he made.
"This is Robin, leader of Gotham's Militia," Damian stated, "You kidnapped Batman along with many others and we want them back. Being the reasonable people that we are we decided to negotiate first. Right now we are locked on to your base in northern New Mexico. We'll give you thirty minutes to confirm the release of the prisoners and if you refuse to comply we will drop our Doomsday clone on your base.
I assure you it's every bit as functional and deadly as the original. Your Bizarro guard dog is dead and your agents throughout Gotham are neutralized. Even if you manage to stop the creature it will cause unrepairable damage to your organization. I suggest you surrender our people if you truly care about the result another Doomsday attack will have on the planet. We await your response." Based on his posture and tone Bruce knew instantly his son wasn't bluffing.
"Where did they get a Doomsday?" Selina asked.
"Lex Luthor," Bruce stated, "If you have an evacuation plan for this base you need to enact it now. Get everyone out of here but leave me a handful of your most technologically capable people. I also need full access to your computers." Jezebel and Selina looked at each other with concern.
"I'm in charge here, aren't I?" Bruce asked. Jezebel nodded at him.
"You are now," she said confidently. Here's what Bruce knew about Doomsday. It was quite possibly the most dangerous creature in the universe. Some time ago it killed Superman in single combat. Before Superman's race of people the Kryptonians inhabited the planet Krypton was a deadly constantly evolving place full of gigantic monsters and dangerous conditions. An alien scientist arrived and began experimenting with forced adaptation over the planet.
He began with a baby transporting it to the harsh surface below his ship. Not surprisingly the baby died due to the toxic atmosphere. Dutifully he collected the DNA from the child and cloned it. Over and over he continued this process and soon the child not only survived but thrived on the planet. Once it began to traverse the landscape the creature quickly succumbed to the monstrous flora and fauna there and the scientist continued his recycling of the genes.
Soon it began to fight anything it came across only to be resurrected by its unseen benefactor above the poisonous atmosphere. This cycle of reincarnation occurred for a long time until one day a clone was killed, but this time before the scientist could retrieve his creation it repaired itself. At this point the scientist could only watch as it died and rose countless times until it was strong enough to conquer the planet.
When no adversaries remained to destroy it turned on its master and travelled alone into space. As it turned out the monster somehow remembered each individual death through a kind of genetic memory. As a result it knew nothing but have for anything that lived. Doomsday now in possession of incredible strength and durability went on a killing spree throughout the galaxy destroying planets and whole civilizations of people.
Indestructible and enraged he moved toward the center of the universe bent on the extinction of all life. An unfathomable number of beings lost their lives in the subsequent war against Doomsday. Dropping the monster on a facility no matter how large was like nuking an ant hill. Doomsday was gray like distant storm clouds. Natural armor in the form of bony looking protrusions covered his body as he constantly grew and changed shedding his previous skins like a snake.
He was fast as Superman rushing to save the innocent. He was stronger than Wonder Woman and Green Lantern combined and had a sheer power of will that put Green Arrow to shame. Bruce's son was about to drop this all encompassing force of nature on the world and Bruce knew he and he alone had to stop it.
It took him five minutes searching through SECURE storage files before he found what he needed. SECURE kept a vast storeroom of confiscated technology from both heroes and villains. There Bruce discovered the Time Cube and his solution to their problem. As he sent the remaining tech people to track down the cube in the warehouse Bruce sprinted out of the building and into the streets of the town that didn't exist.
"Computer identify," he ordered.
"Bruce Wayne identified. Please say a command," an automated voice responded from nowhere.
"Clear people and run Doomsday simulation," Bruce requested. The friendly townspeople disappeared and the familiar hulking mass of Doomsday appeared before him.
"Engage safety lock and begin recording," Bruce said and the beast ran at him. Immediately Bruce went into a defensive posture. He put his training out of his mind and forced himself to make mistake after mistake. Quickly Doomsday smashed him into the ground only to disappear at the point of delivering the final blow. Thanks to the safety locks the simulation would repeatedly end before it killed him.
For the first two minutes Bruce floundered slowly making fewer and fewer mistakes and only rarely attacking. Each time he was struck down Bruce quickly gained his feet. He rebooted the sequence lasting longer before every inevitable death. At the two minute signal he asked the computer for his light Batsuit. Now with some protection he fought a bit better mixing more strikes into his predominately defensive strategy.
Bruce felt strangely different in the suit, safer though not in a physical sense of the word. In the suit it was easier to shut out the feelings and confusion. Still Doomsday pounded him with ease only Bruce refused to stay down. When the four minute mark signaled Bruce ordered his assault gear Batsuit that provided double the protection.
Now he fought back and made less forced mistakes and still Doomsday threw him through digital windows and walls that felt like the real thing. Over and over Bruce stared down death in the form of a giant fist but refused to flinch. At the five minute signal he ordered his prototype Hellbat armor, a mechanical Batsuit designed to withstand the rigors of Apocalips itself. Over the remaining five minutes the Hellbat armor automatically upgraded itself every minute into a newer version until it reached V5 the most advanced suit he created yet.
By the end of ten minutes his form became flawless almost otherworldly. Every trick in the book and some he never wrote down he threw at the juggernaut. Windows blew out of fake buildings due to the force of the titans clash. Batman never felt so alive than in moments like this when life came down to nothing but trying to survive. In the milliseconds between punches he felt free of an unnamable burden.
Here in this place it wasn't noble heroes and dastardly rogues it was the feel of a metal fist across a concrete jaw. For a moment Batman considered how much of the persona was a pretense for escaping the pain by replacing it with another form. Beyond the friends, the promise, the duty, the love, maybe it all came down to the fact that Batman simply made him feel better.
Unfortunately even at his top performance Batman broke under the raw power and limitless experience of Doomsday. Tearing through his light based armor Doomsday prepared to kill him again when the ten minutes passed and the simulation and recording ended. Bruce now lay in the dirt gasping for air. Selina descended the stairs to help him to his feet.
"You hurt yourself. What was the point of this?" she demanded, "You can't fight him and expect to win."
"I don't plan on winning," Bruce explained as they struggled back into the building, "I'm going to lose…a million times." Hurriedly she helped him back to the central control where fifteen minutes remained for application. Bruce expertly aided the crew installing the Time Cube into the holographic projection system. The Time Cube was a device created by Rond Vidar and used to stop his malevolent father Universo from conquering the world. It allowed immediate transfer of objects into a future point by altering the flow of time around it.
On Bruce's insistence they patched all the emergency power generators into the projection system as well. Next Bruce began altering the cube's effect and looping it with the light field. After adding the recording the plan was complete and there was nothing left to do but wait. He still had five minutes on the ticking clock.
With one minute remaining Gotham's Militia waiting in their home base received a single word in response to their offer. No. So Robin let his childlike partner push the button after a half hour of being pestered by him. Somewhere above New Mexico two militia soldiers pushed the large capsule out the back of the cargo plane they borrowed from Gotham International Airport. End over end it plummeted before splitting five hundred feet above the ground.
Finally Doomsday planted his feet on the damned, forfeit earth and roared a joyful battle cry. The program initiated and the town filled with one hundred Batmans all equipped with Hellbat suits. All at once the Batman army closed on the monster and the brawl began. Soon the conflict raised a dust cloud as the Time Cube activated. For ten minutes they could see nothing due to the cloud while the holographic projection system began to spark and crackle. Eventually the program began to run out but the projector miraculously held out against the war inside it. Soon Bruce was forced to improvise.
"Computer at the end of the program replace Batman with…Mister Rogers," Bruce said recollecting the kindest, gentlest soul he could think of on the fly. The program ran for another five minutes before the system finally gave out. Bruce ran outside and found the dust settling too slowly. From somewhere inside he heard shouting.
"I will destroy the Land of Make Believe! I will tear out my neighbor's throat with my teeth!" Doomsday screamed from somewhere out of sight. As Bruce approached he could make out a small figure in the middle of town. Doomsday now stood four feet tall with thin, lanky arms. No armor remained on his body only soft, gray skin stretched over an emaciated frame. The pathetic creature looked at him with sad, yellow eyes.
"My brother, you return to me," it called mournfully, "For so long you were lost I was sure to never see you again and so strong. How can you still be so strong? Take me from this Hell, I beg you." Limping the creature followed Bruce into the darkened halls of SECURE towards the containment cells. Into his own room Bruce helped his now fragile nemesis.
"What did you do to him?" Cassandra asked in disgust as Bruce guided Doomsday to the bed. What Bruce had done was the only true way to neutralize Doomsday, reverse engineer his evolution. With the Time Cube tied into the light projector it sped up time inside the field at a rate of one thousand years for every minute that passed. Then he added his ten minute recording session in reverse with his strongest form at the beginning with one hundred copies of himself. From Doomsday's perspective the event lasted much longer than the fifteen minutes they perceived and it weakly recalled its story from its place on the bed.
"At the beginning there was an army of you, brother. Strong and fast they reappeared as soon as I defeated them. Over time your number slowly began to dwindle until there was only one. In my drunken rage I believed I was winning because through countless years you began to weaken. Your armor grew softer and softer until there was none. You attacked less and less.
I felt my body begin to change somehow every time I killed you. My armor shed off and I felt my limbs grow heavy. I grew tired of fighting and when you disappeared for the last time I swore to never fight again. That's when the tyrant Mr. Rogers arrived. For years I ran and hid through the town in terror. Finally I was caught by his secret police and brought to work in the silver mines underneath the Land of Make Believe.
Thousands of years passed under his dictatorship subjugating his own people to miserable lives of servitude and pain. Finally I resolved to rise up and shed the chains of oppression. It was at that point the nightmare ended and you arrived to save me, brother," Doomsday cried unwittingly, "I have seen the end, brother. We would fight forever to nothing and I have looked for another way but found less than the nothing we are to be. There is no answer but to fight. No other option but to live forever as gods. Please make it stop."
They left the monster to sleep in his cell and later that night gathered in the dark, powerless command center of the base. The only people in attendance were Bruce and the Tripping Darlings. They all sat at the table together.
"Here are the next courses of action to put in place," Selina explained highlighting their screens, "These are the next targets we have in mind."
"We're getting very close now. Another month perhaps and it will be finished," Jezebel observed.
"Very close now," Cassandra echoed enigmatically.
"No," Bruce finally spoke.
"Do you disagree, Bruce?" Jezebel asked.
"I figured this out before Doomsday. I know what you expect of me and I won't do it. I won't join this madness," he explained, "When I was preparing for Doomsday I had plenty of time to delve into your system to confirm everything I suspected. I won't do what you want." He stood in a threatening manner. No one seemed to react.
"That's disappointing, detective," Jezebel commented, "to consider how much pain could have been averted. The truth is it doesn't matter what you decide. Even inaction has a cost. You'll pay this toll coming or going. Either way it gets you."
"I'm sorry Bruce," Selina whispered.
"Bruce." Cassandra said in a way that was neither a statement nor a question. Before anyone else could speak one of the remaining SECURE members burst through the door.
"It's Doomsday!" he cried but Bruce was out the door before he heard anything else. At the door to his previous cell he found two guards staring inside the open door. As he entered Bruce saw the pathetic creature hanging from a bed sheet tied to his chin up bar. Doomsday was dead and its body no longer contained the power to resurrect itself. It didn't even have the power to break the noose that ended its life.
Silently Bruce stood staring into its unmoving yellow eyes. He felt a sympathy like never before towards an enemy he fought. This creature, a simple product of unnatural nature, couldn't be held accountable for its response to conflict. It merely survived in the same way everything else was programmed to survive. He felt there was some deep injustice in this result but couldn't put a name to it. He didn't even notice Cassandra approaching behind him.
"Sleep in the black, old man," she said pointing a finger at the back of his head. Bruce crumpled to the floor unconscious. In the darkness he dreamed of a stallion that was a monster and he wondered when he had bought it and how much he had paid.