It was supposed to have been a new start for Gotham City. After the unceremonious arrest of the incumbent mayor, a young politician named Lincoln March had stepped up to run, winning unopposed.

The forecast for the inauguration was sunny and 75°, with zero chance of rain or even clouds for the entire weekend. A parade had been planned, and thousands of Gotham's citizens had shown up to line the streets. A free concert was to be had in Trillium Park, and Bruce Wayne was to speak at the swearing-in. For Gotham, it was practically perfect.

Ten seconds into his speech, multiple explosions rang out, and the podium collapsed, leaving a cloud of dust and smoke lingering over the courthouse. Chaos ensued, police and rescue teams unable to organize quickly in the midst of the ongoing attack. By the time the smoke cleared, only Lincoln March remained above the ground, having been thrown aside by the initial blast.

A lengthy search party was unable to find more than blood and torn clothes, leaving many to hope for Bruce's survival. After the weeks passed with no sign, however, even those closest to him began to accept that he had perished.

His funeral, attended by politicians, actors, and the wealthiest elite from around the world, was televised internationally, and tens of thousands showed up in person, crowding the streets along the funeral procession. Alfred Pennyworth, the ever-loyal butler, gave a few short words at the grave site, then an empty casket was lowered into the earth. The world mourned. The world moved on.

When Bruce had formed Batman, Inc., there had been tryouts; potential operatives from all over the world were interviewed, tested, and ultimately, recruited. Some were vigilantes. Some were resistance fighters. Some were just driven by justice. Bruce had finalized the list himself, knowing that if ever they were recalled, he would need to have absolute trust in them. Most of these agents had met only with Batman, and a select few with Bruce Wayne. No one had planned on his death, and now it was up to Kate Kane and Alfred to form the team together, a team that only formally existed on paper. There were members in every major city, initially planned to be a worldwide task force against evil, a way of branding the fear and effectiveness of Batman into a global scale. The Court of Owls had claimed responsibility for the death of Bruce Wayne, declaring it to be the first step towards reclaiming Gotham City from the elite, the unworthy. Lincoln March had survived the attack, spending a few weeks in the ICU in an induced coma, and other city officials had perished, as well as the governor of the state. Gotham was in recovery mode; a faceless, secret society declaring war on it was the last thing that it needed.

Kate sat at the Batcomputer, staring without seeing at the list of names and faces that made up the roster. People from all over the world, people who possessed certain talents or abilities, people who were dangerous. Some had been vigilantes. Some had been criminals. Some, even, had been selected after Bruce had died; volunteers for the cause, so to speak. All of them were worthy allies. All that was left to do was to activate the program; a push of a button, and those who had been recruited would be sent a mission briefing. A voluntary recall, a call to arms.

With a heavy sigh, Kate slumped backward in the chair, raising her hand to her temples and kneading her scalp. Activating the program would give her a tangible way to fight back, a first step in taking Gotham back from the monsters that were prowling; however, it would also place her squarely in charge of a small army, a task she was unsure if she was capable of doing. Alfred laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing in a reassuring manner.

"Miss Kane, please do not feel as if you are alone in this. I have been running tactical operations for decades; I do not see how this is any different. You will have my full support and assistance, should you choose to proceed."

She blew out a breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding.

"This isn't a normal night out on patrol, Alfred. This is war. War that no one's truly prepared for." She sighed, then turned to face him. "Is it my place to involve so many people in this? There wasn't a hierarchy, no marching orders. He's just gone, and that's that. I know he trusted me enough to teach the younger crew, but this––this is different."

Alfred nodded in agreement, his expression unreadable. "Miss Kane, the decision is yours." With that, he swept out of the cave, puttering about and straightening things as he left. Kate sat alone with her thoughts, staring hard at the glaring computer screen.

"Yeah. That's the problem, Pennyworth." She sighed, slumping forward on the desk, her forehead striking the keyboard with a muted thunk . "Great going, Kate. Either you let the Court run free on Gotham, or send people to certain death to maybe stop them. Easy choice." She sat up, rolling her shoulders.

The war had to come. Innocent citizens would die no matter what she chose, but there was only one option that was right. With a seed of desperation deep in her chest, she hit the recall button, watching as icons all over the world blinked once, then turned off. She switched the monitors off, then exited the cave.

Tomorrow was day one.