Transcendent Wings
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I: Battle Fader
It was night in Gotham.
Protective darkness shrouded the dark city, and the majority of the populace was scurrying to their shelters. Some walked slowly, confident in their fortune; others, either prey or predators. And the predators... they kept an eye, an ear, something, a sense, for the city's own dark creature, its urban legend, its... harbinger of justice, if one could exist in such darkness.
Its Dark Knight.
If any of them were to look up, to the spires of Gotham amidst high-rise buildings, they would have spotted the shade that was the Bat, a dark silhouette against a darkening sky and then...
The Bat would be swooping along, and criminals on the grounds scatter before this being of darkness.
The Batman stopped, on the edge of a block's rooftop, a gauntleted hand to his ear. "Report."
"All fine in this quarter," Alfred's voice filtered in. "Although, I do wish that Master Tim had stuck around."
"No names, Alfred," the Batman growled, listening for the sound of shifting air. "It's dangerous."
"So is your regular activity, sir," the butler agreed. The Batman deigned not to reply.
Shod feet landed on the edge, the red-haired beauty pointed to the west. Batman nodded, running towards the direction. "We're approaching a suspected drug smuggling ring. Are there any notable observations?"
"You mean, aside that they seemed to be hiring Bane again, sir?" the butler spoke in concern. "Clayface would also be present. Do... tell Madame Eatos that I have her pastries ready."
If anyone was to listen very carefully, perhaps they could get over their surprise to comprehend that the Batman was choking as he approached the Gotham Bay. "You bake for her?"
The buzz of the radio static replaced Alfred's voice.
"He bakes for her," Batman muttered as a white fluffy... thing... hopped to him and waited on the roof of the warehouse. "He bakes for her. This is... I thought you didn't need to eat."
The translucent rabbit blinked innocently, red eyes wide as it wobbled with its nods.
"Yes, I know you like carrots, especially the baby ones," the Dark Knight answered it absently as he waited by the skylight, gauging the distance and danger before loading a piton. After a quick pause, he added, "If you'd stick to Dick the next time he's here, I promise to get a whole bag."
The rabbit nodded furiously, literally vibrating as he broke through the skylight and into the warehouse.
Bane was the first target; a Batarang aimed for the tubes connected to the hulking man's mask, but the projectile was swept out before it could even near them.
"Good evening, señor," the Cuban laughed, his voice echoing marginally in the dark. "I see then that we are playing cat-and-mouse again, Batman."
"Subject, Grarl, practical test one," the Dark Knight muttered into his ear-piece connected to a omni-recorder before reaching for the utility belt, Instead of another Batarang, what he extracted shifted slightly; a card. "Testing, strength in power-oriented combat."
Another shape crept up behind Bane, its tail swishing as it moved through shadows without a sound, or barely any as its claws clacked against wood for a brief moment before it tapped the super-villain's shoulder behind. In a split second, a clawed hand with opposable thumbs that could not have been human or even remotely related to simian slapped at the mask, sending the super-villain through a concrete wall, and crashing into the one behind as well.
"Subject has great physical strength when manifested into solid form, and marginal combat intelligence along with physical strength," Batman murmured to the recorder as an ochre-yellow dinosaur, wearing a matching vest, roughly one and a half times the size of a human and carrying a huge axe in one meaty hand stepped into the little light, prompting the others to open fire on him. "Subject also shows great adherence to prior orders, that is, a great attempt not to kill despite having the capability to," he added as the dinosaur charged, only using its fists to whack at gun-men. "I suspect that subject's inability to speak human languages stems from the fact that its voice-box is incompatible for human speech, yet basic communication is... not impossible."
Clayface appeared, roaring at he charged at Grarl in his clay-form, the dinosaur resorting to the axe as it chopped Clayface in half before punching the clay villain out through a concrete wall towards the sea.
"Subject shows basic memory skills, enough to recall Clayface's aversion to water," the Dark Knight observed.
"Rwar!" the dinosaur roared as it punched the clay villain into the water, only for him to float back up and begin swimming away... until a pair of slender arms restrained him around the neck.
"You wouldn't want to run, would you?" red lips murmured to the super-villain as the blue-haired mermaid began to drag Clayface down the surface.
"Subject shows great ability to work with others, and memory in basic abilities, if nothing else," Batman muttered. "Subject also seems to be bulletproof to... small-arms ammunition," he looked down at one of the guns. "Up to... forty-four calibre. It is unknown if subject would be injured by greater-calibre weapons, or to energy weapons. This bears testing."
"Save us, Batman!" one of the terrified, injured men yelled. "There's a monster right there!"
"I know," the Dark Knight replied. "He's mine."
"Growl," the dinosaur hid its jaw in its hands. "Growl, growl."
"No, you can't eat him," Batman answered, looking directly at the half-drowning Clayface the Guardian Kay'est was latching onto. "Kay'est? How did you restrain him?"
She let go, the villain immediately wading to the pier and landing on his belly, panting for dear life. "He couldn't attack me," she poked at her skin. "That's why."
"Growl," Grarl pointed at Clayface, before to his own teeth. "Growl, growl."
"I really don't want to know how he would taste like," the Dark Knight groaned. "Let's get them to Arkham. Where's Bane?"
"Growl, growl." There was a twisty motion with Grarl's hands before he got the message.
"Just chains?" the Dark Knight repeated before he looked back into the warehouse. Indeed, Bane was trussed up in chains... the kind usually utilised for anchors. "I see. We should get them to Arkham." He then looked at Grarl. "Correction. I should get them to Arkham. You will not be following me."
"Growl..." the dinosaur gave the approximate reptilian equivalent of a slump, which was creepy as an expression beyond the grasp of the English lexicon. Especially as he was still holding the axe.
"Elma," the Batman turned as the red-haired messenger from earlier landed swiftly and silently, now solid as opposed to the half-spectral form she had had earlier.
"Master," the red-head crossed her gloved left arm over her chest as she bowed. "The one you call Deadshot is on his way towards the large building with the dome."
"City Hall," the Bat muttered. "It's all the way across the city, who knows- Elma, you are allowed to stop him given the parameters set out."
"As you wish, master," the monster in solid form nodded as she took to the skies lightly.
"Why does she always call me that...?" the Dark Knight shook his head. "Kay'est..keep a look out. Please."
"As you say," the fin-eared mermaid shook her head as she sank back down into dark waters. Grarl huffed, obviously glaring at a shivering Clayface before he shimmered out of the material world.
"Sufficiently advanced technology," the Batman huffed as he shot the piton out, the grapple hook receding to take him to the roofs of Gotham once more. "Right... yeah, right."
Floyd Lawton was one of the world's best marksmen. His chosen nickname, Deadshot, attested to that. So, frankly, no one would find it unusual that he had chosen to snipe his target at a distance of over a kilometre from the roof of City Hall right up to the fancy apartment complex.
That was, until a floating red-head girl kicked at his sniper rifle, disassembling the delicate and expensive machinery into a state of nature, i.e. bits of metal and machinery. From then, Deadshot was more occupied with sniping the closest target than in his actual target.
"Too little clothing for Gotham, isn't it?" he joked as he aimed. His decision rapidly changed as he noted that her foot had dug a crater into the granite roof of City Hall. "You do know that the guy paid extra for a Gotham job, right?"
"Master did not allow me to kill you," the beauty answered him. "Perhaps he can accept your bones broken."
"Gulp," the assassin answered as he pulled the trigger that hit dead-on. "Too bad you're too dead to do that."
The woman stared down at her vest, reaching down to extract a lead pellet bent into a small mushroom. "Interesting. The metal is softer than most metal, perhaps such that it should fracture upon impact. Perhaps, then, it would cause extremely complicated flesh damage."
"Meta," the man cursed. "Great. A simple-minded meta. Who apparently wants to break my bones."
That was before she was upon him, a swift kick at his kneecaps and a knee into the solar plexus before the assassin found himself about to receive a pile-driver that would have him kissing granite harder than anything else-
"Stop."
Being suddenly righted to his knees again, the assassin was more than thankful even if he had to face the terror of the Gotham night. "Hey, Batman. Did you know that there's a psycho meta in your city?"
"Master," the woman bowed, and the world of Floyd Lawton temporarily rearranged itself as he comprehended exactly what she had said.
"Stop everything! He's your master?" the assassin yelped as the Dark Knight took him by the collar. "He's even more of a loner than I am!"
"There wasn't a choice," the Dark Knight growled. "It was this or they drive me insane."
"It's not a very long road there," the assassin derisively answered as h was dangled over the ledge. "I know how this goes. You drop me, I fear for my life, then you reel me back up and I'm so terrified I spill everything I know. Well, Batman, nothing you do tonight can convince me to talk. C'est la vie. That's the way it's going to be today."
"Elma," the Batman handed him over by the foot.
The woman accepted, leaping to stand further, seemingly on air, and Deadshot barely had time to register that she was standing on nothing and that Gotham seemed awfully small before he was dropped from the height of approximately fifteen storeys to cold, unforgiving granite.
The Bat caught him before his masked face hit the ground. "Well? I can tell her to drop you from thirty storeys next."
"I'll talk! I'll talk!"
"Excellent," the Batman answered, just as the Guardian Elma shimmered out of existence once more.
The phone trembled in his hands.
"Master Dick? Master Dick, are you there?"
"Wha, Alfred?" the tired voice spoke of just having turned in after patrol. "Alfred?"
"Master Dick, come to Gotham, quickly," the butler hissed into the speaker, eyes darting to every corner in sight. "Master Bruce... he is... well, I am beginning to fear for his mental stability."
"Alfred, is Bruce getting moody again?" the tired voice was now more sleepy. "We both know he's always-"
"Master Dick, yesterday he willingly slept in for eight hours," Alfred quickly rebutted. "The day before he went out at the crack of dawn to see the sunrise. Before that, he actually visited Harvey Dent in Arkham."
"Whoa, Bruce actually paid a visit to Two-Face?" Dick's voice was now more alert. "Bruce got over that guilt?"
"And before that, he even... started playing chess on the Internet," Alfred murmured like it was the end of the world.
"Alfred, he might be bored-"
"On the Bat-computer."
Both of them knew well that work and leisure were mutually exclusive objects in Batman's world, much less the world of Bruce Wayne.
"Alfred, take a sample," Dick's voice answered seriously after a moment of silence. "I'm coming down immediately."
Superman was growing slightly concerned as he approached Gotham. The lack of kryptonite notwithstanding, this was Batman's city. There was a little-to-no chance of an invitation to Gotham any time soon; the Bat nearly had a coronary the last time he allowed the League anywhere near his city at the destruction to the Wayne Enterprises building. If there was something like an open invitation to Gotham City, the Question probably had it in writing somewhere he could not access. That left him only one option; fly into Gotham, and hope for the extremely slim chance that Batman was in a good mood.
It amazed Kal El, also called Clark Kent, also called Superman, every time he came into Gotham it was either incognito or the end of the world. It was unlike Metropolis in every sense of the word; a dark city, with an equally dark protector, and lately the rumour mill was working overtime with the word out in Gotham that the Dark Knight was growing... darker.
In any other case, perhaps it would not merit a personal visit to Gotham. However, when hardened criminals came from the dark city to Metropolis, shivering and gibbering and desperate enough to rob a bank in Superman's city, of all places, and getting into Stryker's Island over Blackgate or Stonegate, the Man of Steel was having his suspicions of a man who was scaring the Gotham underworld more than he usually did.
It was the darkest point of dark when he finally made it into the city, the one minute moment when sunset truly ends and the night was about to rise. From one of the highest spires, looming like some gargoyle or demon was the demonic visage of the Batman himself, a pair of eerie white eyes and a dark cowl and...
Superman blinked at the sight of the two, not one, figures on the tower, one the Bat, the other a woman with her hair cut in a bob and cloths trailing from her legs and arms like some exotic dancer. His super-hearing was certainly working, but it was surreal to see the Bat having a conversation with another person with the winds howling from this altitude.
"-serious?" the Bat was repeating, his gravelly tone clear. "Leaping off the building to prove that, yes, I can do it?"
"It is a mere suggestion," the woman answered, her voice soft like the winds. "You would truly be seen as the terror of the night if your enemies were to believe that you would fly, and it is an altogether efficient method of transport. If anything, it would also provide more avenues of escape."
"I really wouldn't need shocks like yesterday, Elma." So the woman had a name, and was comfortable with him using it.
"There were hardly any options available. Besides, their faces were truly a sight to remember. Is it not a good idea? It is, after all, reliant upon your physical power."
There was no answer, before...
"Show me," the Bat rumbled.
Superman was too stunned to react as one of his friends began to take a running leap off the building and he was falling, his trajectory was a bit further than the grapple could manage, Superman suspected, and the Batman was about to fall...
...black cape flared, and under the cowl Superman suspected that Batman was laughing or smiling or giving the Bat-equivalent of such things as, against all odds, the Batman bounded onto the next building in a show of either superhuman luck or unnatural jumping power.
"I know you're there."
Superman internally sighed. Of course he knew. The Bat always knew. The Kryptonian descended down to the ground. "Batman. We need to..."
He stopped as the same staccato beat of shifting winds sounded. There was a leg, and the Man of Steel was suddenly kicked down from behind with the miracle of physics. The woman was there, flipping to land on her feet beside the Batman, cloths flaring out as she readied another crouching charge-
"Elma."
The woman was standing, dignified, stance ready, a blade in hand. "Understood, master."
Superman's world just about flipped on its axis. "Er, new employee? Don't you usually make them wear masks? And... 'master'?"
The Batman looked down for a moment. "Superman, Guardian Elma. Elma, this is Kal El, also named Superman. To answer you, Kal, she's a Duel Monster. A mask was impractical, so it never came in. As for the 'master' thing, I have no idea why."
"One of them," Superman repeated, his eyes narrowing. "So... how, and why, is she solid? I thought they were only voices."
The Bat actually looked awkward, if it were possible. "In the Cave. Not here."
Both made their individual way to the entrances of the Batcave, Superman stopping to prevent the customary muggings and attempted rapes here and there that seemed usual for Gotham before making it to the Cave.
Somehow, of course, Batman managed to arrive before him, the Bat-mobile sleek and parked and the master of the Cave itself seated before the Bat-computer. The cowl was hanging off, blue eyes intense and drilling into Superman.
"So, she's one of... them," Superman awkwardly began. "Where is she?"
"Asleep," Batman motioned to beside the console. A lighted board was laid out, and on the board was part of a deck, with nine more cards laid face-up. Cards that Superman had stayed away from for the past few years. "As to how... it's a... disposition."
"A disposition that isolates you," Superman retorted. "Bruce. It's... different. I... You're being haunted by otherworldly beings. Let me call Fate. Maybe he can do something about this-"
"Eatos," Bruce sighed, and the Kryptonian's back stiffened. "You were saying?"
"I can't see them, Bruce," Superman slowly replied.
"Oh, sorry." Batman leaned over to tap a few keys. White wings flared as the Native American shaman-woman shimmered into the room, arms spread and her expression at peace. Soft moccasins touched the ground as she opened her eyes.
"Superman, Guardian Eatos," Bruce introduced. "Eatos, this is-"
"Kryptonian," the guardian monster interceded. "I remember. Kal El, son of Jor El, last son of Krypton. There are many by the shadow-world we call the Phantom Zone who curse your house and name, boy."
"He goes by Superman here," the Bat answered. "Apparently, he has... issues. Lots of issues."
"You're... acting different," Superman began. "I don't know why. You're talking to ghosts, Bruce. Look, if I-"
He stumbled back as he felt solid muscle and skin from the woman's hand. "You're... you're... solid."
"And I'm psychic," Batman scoffed in answer. "She's a solid Duel Monster with me. It's been two years, I've been learning."
"So, how did Elma become solid?" Superman pointed out.
"It's a long story," the Bat grimaced. "When I play it, it becomes real. They... I feel myself with them."
"They're dark creatures, Bruce," Superman pointed out. "You can't trust them."
"I'm a dark creature too, what does that mean?" the Batman rebutted. "Why did you come here, Kal?"
"Criminals are running scared, Batman," Superman finally touched at the real reason. "I'm investigating why."
"You know that I handle my city perfectly well, Superman," the Batman answered, his voice curiously lacking bite.
"Criminals are running scared," the Kryptonian answered. "Today a met a team of four criminals. They were trying to rob a bank, in Metropolis. They came all the way from Gotham, to rob a bank, in broad daylight, in my city. And when I came, they just went to the police. They chose to go to Stryker's Island instead of Blackgate. They were desperate not to go anywhere near Gotham. You know why? I asked them. One of them answered, he was so terrified of the Batman, he ran. He said that the Batman had the visage of death. So, even though they knew they hadn't a prayer, they did it. They were that terrified of the night, of Batman. Even a cursory mention of you caused one of them to start breaking down. What went on?"
Rapid typing began. "Subject, Darklord Zerato," Batman dictated. "Appearance seems to inspire fear of death within the criminal mindset. Would require fine-tuning."
"I'm sorry," Eatos shook her head fondly, and Superman realised that she was apologising to him. "He's like that. I think it's his way of coping."
"You can accept him like this," Superman shook his head. "I'm sorry. The idea is... fantastic."
"It is fine," the strange woman answered him. "I have lived long enough to comprehend the complexities of the minds like his. There is a reason that you do not trust us." It was a statement, not a question.
"Maybe... it's just because I've seen the beauty you create, and the cruelty you're capable of, or just that I'm not really comfortable with the idea that a children's card game becoming a weapon," Superman neutrally answered. "I... kids are being exposed to these things and placed in danger. It's... sad."
"Is that not the same of yourselves?" she questioned archly. "In the end, a super-hero may well be a vigilante."
"Yes, but... Batman is changing because of your presence," he argued.
"Who knows," the shaman-woman gave a smile like the Mona Lisa. "Bruce? You've been listening this whole while, have you not? Perhaps... it is time."
"When I'm ready, Kal," the Batman's tired voice answered. "When I'm ready..."
"Of course, Bruce," Eatos answered for the sake of a stunned Kryptonian, smiling beatifically all the while. "There is no hurry, is there?"
"Eatos, Alfred baked pastries," the billionaire's voice abruptly changed the subject.
"Wait, Alfred bakes for her?" Superman blinked as the shade drifted up to the Cave's connecting entrance.
"Yes, much as I wonder why," the billionaire and secret vigilante growled in answer. A moment of silence passed before Superman decided that he had outstayed his welcome and left before the little green rock could make its appearance.
The Neo Domino Public Security Maintenance Bureau had since been scrapped and replaced with the Neo Domino Police Department, but their officers were still incorrectly referred to as Securities, and the Mayor of Neo Domino sometimes called the Director despite that there had not been a director there for over a decade. Even so, the police department had faced an expansion of responsibilities, including the apprehension of rogue Psychic Duellists, which they worked with the local Arcadia Movement with to tackle.
As Detective Soichi Kazuma hid behind the steel door from a rampaging Luster Dragon, he was suddenly reminded exactly why the Psychic Duellists were usually left with the Arcadia Movement.
A burst of cold wind interrupted his spiel of thoughts as the place began to snow over and the Luster Dragon began to freeze.
"Three World Spear!"
The icy three-headed dragon... that could only mean...
"Yo, Ojou San," he waved to the teenage brunette girl walking over with the stoic manservant in tow.
"Detective Kazuma," the girl greeted as she walked in with her DuelDisk in hand. "My apologies for being late."
"Oi, Kazuma San," one of the younger detectives began indignantly. "Are you going to let-?"
There was scream before their perp of the hour was thrown out of the restaurant he was holding up, half-mottled and frozen over.
"She's a Psychic Duellist," Kazuma wryly answered as the manservant handcuffed the half-frozen criminal with efficient movement. "Unless you want to try? Thought not," he snickered at the officer's green face.
"We'll be taking him," Setsuka murmured as she stepped out. "If you wouldn't mind."
"No worries, I'll just tell Mikage San," Kazuma waved as the manservant loaded the criminal into a waiting car. "Bye, Ojou San."
"Odd," Setsuka murmured as she got into the back seat, by the half-frozen perp. "This man... was being controlled."
"Missy?" Nakamura asked.
"No, it's nothing," the girl answered. "Still... that symbol... I'll have to ask the professor later."
"Missy, you have practice with Miss Himemiya later."
"Ah, yes," the icy girl nodded. "Then, when Seika comes over."
Nakamura coughed. "Erm, Seika Sama is coming with Ms Nagisa and Miss Lola."
"Carly and Misty?" the girl blinked. "Whatever for? Must be strange... for Carly to come, and with Misty... I thought she was dating with Atlas San?"
"Mr Atlas is in the Riding League, Missy."
"Ah, yes. In that case, I shall have to leave my questions for another time," the young leader of the Arcadia Movement sighed. "Nakamura San, when we get back, begin another sweep of anomalies from our contacts. This is the fifth attack this month, something is not right."
"Yes, Missy."
That was before someone crashed into the car.
Please review! Stay tuned for the next duel: Dark Factory of Mass Production! Duel, Acceleration!