Lesson Number Two:

Children Should Be Seen, Not Heard

Viewpoint: Bruce Wayne

Gotham City.

I hate this town.

Filth everywhere, from the streets to the skies.

Patrolling is difficult. It's hard to look at what my home has become. But it keeps me in check. It reminds me of why I do this. Why, every night, I take this mantle.

The mantle of the bat.

"Computer's fine, Bruce," says a voice in my cowl's com-link. "How's the Batmobile?"

Barry can be a real asshole sometimes.

"I hate it when you call it that."

"Come on, man," he chuckles. "I built the damn thing. That's what it's called. And you know it's a cool name. Don't deny it."

I pull into an alleyway. Safe enough. There shouldn't be anyone in this area, save for a few derelicts. And by now, they know what happens if they mess with the car.

No one likes the smell of charred flesh.

From atop the old Winston building, I wait.

I watch.

Something is bound to go down tonight. Something always does.

There's a reason it's called Crime Alley, after all.

But time passes.

An hour goes by.

And, for once, there are no signs of trouble.

The streets remain relatively empty, as does the sky. Gordon's signal is yet to make an appearance.

I don't know how to feel about this…

I decide it's time to relocate. I stand and peer down at the alleyway below, preparing to make my descent.

But before I do, I notice something.

The manhole. Its lid has been removed.

And it wasn't like that before…

Suddenly, a hand rises from the city's bowels and grabs the cold asphalt.

I withdraw a shuriken, just to be safe.

My eyes narrow, preparing to face the worst…

A figure crawls from the sewer, carefully setting the manhole cover in place.

A short, lean figure. Wearing a hood.

Part of me wants to confront this stranger, to find out exactly what is going on. But my instincts tell me to stay, to watch, to let the pieces fall into place…

As the figure creeps from the alleyway, a face is revealed beneath the tattered, green cloak.

A girl's face.

A young, innocent-looking girl. Maybe thirteen or fourteen.

What is this town coming to?

Suddenly, she darts down the sidewalk, staying close to the storefronts. She's careful to stray from the light. There's definitely something wrong about this…

I follow her trail, pursue her from the rooftops. But even with my training, it's a difficult chase. This mystery girl is a fast one.

She makes a turn. And another. And another.

Endlessly, I follow. I begin to wonder if she even has a destination. It almost seems as though she's running aimlessly, without purpose…

But soon enough, it becomes clear that this is no midnight jog.

Together, we come upon a young man, standing at a bus stop. He's wearing a suit. Nice. Expensive. He's a business type, judging from the briefcase.

"What is she doing?" I whisper to myself.

The girl stands in the shadows for awhile, watching the man intently.

Again, I wonder if I should reveal myself, prevent things from getting ugly…

But this is an ugly town.

And I want to find out just what her deal is.

In the blink of an eye, she's off. The man doesn't have a clue what's about to hit him…

With the agility of a cat, Hood leaps from the sidewalk, extends a leg, and collides with Pretty Boy's face. He's down and out, leaving her to snatch his wallet, his briefcase, and retreat to her precious shadows.

Again, the chase is on.

From rooftop to rooftop, I follow Hood's every move. Eventually, we return to the Winston building.

I know there's no time to lose.

Quickly, I spread my cape and descend upon the alleyway. But before I can confront the thief, she has returned to the sewers and replaced the manhole cover.

Like I said, she's a fast one.

With a grunt, I grab hold of the lid and toss it aside, descending into…

Darkness. Utter darkness.

I reach behind and grab a small flashlight from my utility belt.

It flickers on.

I'm inside the Gotham sewers.

And, sadly, they don't look much worse than the surface.

There's no sign of the girl.

Carefully, I walk beside a trail of murky, fetid waters.

I come to a tunnel, long ago boarded up. Except for a few missing planks. Not enough room for a man to enter.

But just enough for a child.

My fist shatters the decaying boards with ease.

The tunnel weaves and winds, taking me further into the depths of Gotham.

Further into Hell.

Finally, a dead end. Save for a ladder that leads down to…

Down to what? My flashlight faintly reveals a stone floor. Another level? How far do these sewers run?

I don't bother with the ladder. I can make the jump.

Cape unfurled, I gracefully fall into the unknown. A storm of gasps fills the room.

"Who's there?" I demand, again revealing the flashlight.

I wish I hadn't asked.

Children. Lots of children. At least fifty jammed into this tight chamber. Like sardines in a can.

Their faces… I don't think I'll ever be able to forget them. Sunken, hungry faces with dirty cheeks and fearful eyes.

But fearful of what?

For once, I don't think it's me…

"What are you doing down here?"

No answer. The children simply stare at me. Again, their eyes… So hollow…

I realize they're all wearing the same strange cloak. Same as the one worn by my mystery girl… the thief.

What the hell is this?

"Is someone keeping you here?"

Slowly, a small boy approaches. He looks even younger than Hood, maybe ten or eleven. His brown eyes shine like glass in my flashlight.

Reluctantly, he nods.

I kneel, placing my hand on his shoulder.

"Who? Who has done this?"

He looks to the dank ground beneath his bare feet, scared to say a word. They all are. I've found myself in the middle of a strange colony… A colony of mute, desperate children…

Finally, the boy's gaze meets mine. After that, he doesn't move his eyes. Only his hand. He points to the wall beside us. A warning is written there in something… something like blood.

"Beware," it reads. "Beware the Sewer King."