Well, this is the first time I do a self-insert and it's because of my sister Samantha. A devilish woman who put the idea in my head and now I cannot think of anything else! Yes, I know I have two other stories to update, but I have to write this or I will die.

Disclaimer: Batman does not belong to me. Neither of his characters (or all of them would live happy lives while Joker burns in hell), the only one that belongs to me is Milo.

Warning: Bad words, violence, sexual activity or mention of these, drug or alcohol use

Prologue - I'm not gonna die.

It was not supposed to be like this. Shit, we had planned the coup for three months! We were supposed to have covered any chance of this going wrong.

It was not our first job. We were not a bunch of rookies who thought they could eat the world. Damn, we lived on this for almost a decade, we were fucking pros! So, how the hell did we go from being about to execute a blow to a bank to be cornered by the police and half of my friends dead?

Well, I have no idea. And that's just the problem.

I clenched my teeth tightly, trying to somehow contain the stinging pain in my left shoulder. My eyes were looking for some way out with desperation while Sam shot the cops from his position a couple of yards to the right, covering himself behind a fallen desk.

There had to be a way out. We could not die here, we could not. We had not survived Monte Carlo to die here.

"Milo, I'm out of bullets."

Those words were like a punch to the stomach. I turned my head to look at Sam and saw a resigned smile. My beautiful and brave sister looked resigned...

To die. To go to jail. Whatever it is that destiny will bring.

Well, I wasn´t.

I closed my eyes for a moment and quickly reviewed all the possibilities inside my head, every possible action and all ended in two ways: One: we gave up and went to jail or Two: we contine figthing and procede to die like warriors.

All.

Except one.

Seeing in advance the odds of an action was like my superpower. Although in reality, it is a medical condition with a long and complicated name that I never bother to learn. But I have to tell you, it's incredible.

"Not yet, sweetheart," I said with a crooked smile, while with my good arm I slightly shook my pistol. It still had half a load.

Immediately her expression lit up. Her eyes flashed with hope and she grinned at me.

Sam had always trusted me, and if I said we were not dead yet, she would trust me. I would execute my plan without thinking because that was the way our relationship was based: Blind confidence that I would not let something bad happen to her.

"Okay, baby. This is the plan: I want it when you count to five. Then lie down on the ground and slowly move through it to the vault. When you are there, the bullets should have stopped ringing. You will hear the voices of the police, ignore them, no matter what they are shouting Okay? Well, there is going to be a strong «Boom» that will shake the place. Then, run until you can no more. Our meeting point will be at the Veles Hotel in two days. I'll be the handsome man dressed like James Bond. Okay?"

She laughed softly at my antics and nodded, beginning to count in a low voice.

See? Blind trust. She did not think about why she would bring a bomb on her or how she would kill the cops and get out alive. It was enough that he promised that we would see each other so that she would not exceed the plan.

I always hate lying to her, but it was the only way to ensure she was saved.

The truth was, I wasn´t a hero. Moreover, I think it would fit perfectly into the category of villain, but Sam is my sister. And that means I would give my life without hesitation (even with the selfish and egocentric I can become) if it meant saving her.

As soon as she began to move, I turned and shot again. One, two, three times. Focusing the attention of the policemen on me, giving her room to move.

Sam did not know that Marco, our friend for six years and my lover to times, carried a bomb with him whenever we went out to do a job. This was because Marco was a bit paranoid and firmly believed that it was better to die than to go to prison, which we agreed on, so even though my plans had never gone wrong - until today - he felt better if he had insurance.

Marco had been the first to be shot down by the police. His body falling to the floor was what made us realize we were in trouble. The police did not use sirens to warn us of their presence because we were big targets and they did not want us to escape once again. Damn sons of bitches.

Marco was a couple of yards to the left of where I was. I was going to have to leave my hiding place to reach his body and look for the fucking bomb.

Great.

Just wonderful.

I let out a sigh and set myself up courageously from behind the metal desk. Damn! It hurt to move because of the fucking bullet in my shoulder, however, the adrenaline that ran through my veins at my imminent death gave me the necessary forces to carry out the necessary actions to get where Marco was gracefully and effectively, despite the rain of bullets that was going in my direction.

I slide. Catching the corpse by one arm to drag it with me to the back of another desk to have a cover where I looked in the pockets for the artifact. I put my hands in the pocket of his sweatshirt, hoping to get lucky, but it was not there. I cursed and kept looking. I found it trapped between the hollow of his pants and his abdomen.

All right.

Now, I only have to wait until Sam arrived at the vault and hid in it for which at least fifty beats were missing if my calculations were correct.

One two. Three. Four ... Forty-eight. Forty-nine…

Fifty.

I pressed the button and the countdown started.

It was set to burst in ten seconds. Long enough to let me get close to the door in a race and add more to the odds of taking the cops who were parked outside the bank with me to the underworld.

Thinking At least kill a few bastards I stood up and leaving behind my hiding place I ran towards the door with the device tightly grasped in my hand. It was a compact bomb, but with power to fly a radius of five square meters. I knew this because Marco had presumed his achievement when he finished it.

I knew it would kill us all, except for Sam, because the vault was designed to withstand bigger explosions.

I received three bullets before reaching the doors.

One on my lower belly.

The second in my chest, this cut the air form me so I think it pierces one of my lungs.

And the one that extinguishes my life, a sure shot that crossed my skull and lodged in my brain.


Now, I must tell you that dying feels strange. It is an indescribable feeling that if I were forced to put into a human concept it would be "peace" or perhaps "hollow". This is because the pain goes away, but with it goes everything else, your past, the good and the bad, everything is gone. Disappear and cease to be yours. It's like being in a room full of white light so bright that you lose the ability to see, but you do not stay in the deep darkness that is blindness.

I cannot identify exactly how long I was in that state because when I think about it seems like an eternity caught in a couple of instants.

Then something changed. And from one moment to another I was surrounded by a powerful voice that spoke in a language that I was unable to decipher and in a tone so high that I thought it would shatter my ears, take my hands to these, doing everything possible to distance myself from the pain that listening to whatever was causing me.

What the sound emitted seemed to understand why it stopped.

I fell on my knees. Tears rolled down my cheeks, my breathing was cracked and my whole body trembled.

With surprise, I realized that I was in shock. That somehow I had regained a body and was no longer just an essence as before that monstrous sound. Although I did not have much time to rationalize this as a woman's voice murmured close to my ear:

« Σας δίνουμε μια νέα ζωή, μια δεύτερη ευκαιρία, μην το χάνεις »

The voice was soft and harmonic, but it showed enormous power. When I heard her it achieve a warm feeling in my chest that was quickly replaced by the panic when I flooded with the feeling of a free fall that began as soon as she finished speaking.


A heartbreaking scream left my lips, hurting my throat. I opened my eyes and suddenly sat up, sitting in what at that moment I thought was the bed of my hotel, I could feel the rapid beat of my heart and I had to do a breathing exercise to be able to calm down.

A nightmare. A horrible nightmare, but nothing more. I sighed in relief, for that meant everyone was safe. Thank the gods.

However, my peace of mind did not last long as the door opened and the lights went on. Immediately I turned my gaze to it, hoping to find my little sister or my lover because I had screamed with great force and surely had awakened someone, but although the person at the door had his features painted with concern was not any of them.

He was a man in his mid-thirties, short black hair and blue eyes deep enough to steal my breath from his cool, detached look. A face that I recognized immediately even though a part of the mind froze for a couple of seconds in denial and the only thing I could think of was:

What the fuck?

Bruce Wayne?!