The man stared into the darkness that permeated the area. He was in some sort of alleyway long since forgotten by mankind. The concrete ground was covered in trash and grime, the walls of the buildings just as dirty with graffiti designs on them. There were places like this all over the world, so this was nothing new to the man.

However, there was something about this place that made the man dislike it immediately. The still air was suffocating, the silence alarming. He had never been here before and he wanted to leave it just as quickly as he found it. Yet, he was rooted to the ground, unable to move. It was almost as if some spell was forcing him to wait for something to happen. With every passing second, his stomach twisted and turned as anxiety built itself inside of him.

The sound of a child's laughter broke the silence. The man stared at the end of the alleyway as three people came into view, one of which was the child. On either side of him was a man and woman, the man dressed in a high-class suit, the woman in a lovely evening gown. All of their attention was focused on the boy as he started chatting non-stop. Oddly enough, he didn't make a sound despite how animated he was.

The family strolled down alley, the picture of happiness. The man wasn't sure why he was seeing this, only that it brought a sense of peace to him he hadn't felt in quite some time. He had forgotten what it felt like to be this serene.

And then they stopped. Someone was at the man's side, covered in darkness. A handgun was clasped in his hand, pointed right at the family. The man stared at the robber, but couldn't see his face; yet, he felt as if the robber was demanding something. What was it? Money? Jewelry? What?

Slowly, the father reached to his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. He then reached towards the gunman, holding it out calmly despite concern in his eyes. The robber eager snatched the wallet away, the father retreating quickly back so as not to antagonize the gunman, waiting silently for the next command.

Then, for whatever reason, the gunman lunged at the mother, reaching out for a string of pearls around her neck. With a yank, he broke the clasp in back and stole the necklace away. However, the pearls didn't stay on their string, falling off of it and raining down on the ground, the sound of their bouncing on the concrete ground created the first sound since the laughter.

Yet, the father took this as a hostile action and leapt at the gunman. Light flashed before the man's eyes, the deafening blast of a gunshot filling his ears. The father fell. The mother began screaming silently, to which the gunman jerked his gun towards her and fired again, another gunshot echoing throughout the alley. The parents collapsed to the trash-covered ground on top of each other, blood pooling around them.

As quickly as the robber had appeared, he vanished out of the man's sight, which left the child and his fallen parents. The boy just stood there, paralyzed in shock and fear. His hands and legs began to tremble until his legs ultimately gave out and he dropped to the floor, landing on his knees as tears began to cascade down his face.

The man watched dispassionately at the scene, the parents lifeless and the boy lost in sorrow and loss. The silence was back, but now it seemed to choke the life from him. It was hard to breath now, a lump forming in his throat that no amount of swallowing could dislodge.

However, if the man thought that was the end of this scene, he was sorely mistaken. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of moment. He tried to see what it was, but his head was frozen much like his body, which caused alarms to wail in his head.

Then, what looked like shades swept out of the shadows, running along the ground and sliding down the walls of the alleyway. The shades raced towards the child, circling around his distraught body, swirling and swirling until it began to envelop him. First it wrapped around the boy's bent legs, climbing up his torso, and pouring down his arms. It saved his head for last, swallowing it up until the boy's face faded into the gathering shadows. Yet, the shades continued to come, feeding the growing mass of darkness. Soon, a large ball of shadows sat right where the boy had, the last of the hungry shades disappearing into it as an ominous feeling began welling up in the man.

And then, the darkness began to grow, extending upwards and losing its roundness. The top began to thin out, forming a head as the rest of it became more angular and straight. Horns on either side of the head emerged from the crown.

Finally, white fire burst from the dark creature's head, forming eyes that bore into the man. All of his attention was on this demon and he couldn't help but feel like he was being sucked in, his sight closing onto the creature's face until all he could see was the blank, white eyes.

With a gasp, the man shot up from his bed, his breathing ragged as he felt his heart pounding in his chest. Gone was the alleyway and that...monster...and the sight of his room bathed in darkness greeted him.

It was only a dream. Just a dream.

Focusing on his breathing, the man began trying to calm his breathing, slowing his accelerated heart rate. Raising a hand up, he rubbed it against his face, fingers brushing against the dark strains of his hair as he felt the sheen of sweat on his skin. That made him frown. His body had been affected by the dream more than he thought, which was unacceptable. He was in the service of the Demon's Head and his master was unforgiving of any sign of weakness.

Something began moving across his abdomen, causing him to look down. An arm, cool and smooth to the touch, brushed against his hot skin. It was pleasant to feel. Following the arm, he soon looked at the woman it was attached to, her dark hair falling over her face, though he could make out one of her green eyes.

"Beloved?" she called out to him, her accented voice soothing his mind. "Why do you wake?"

The man sighed. "Nothing." He closed his eyes as he continued to calm down. His internal clock was starting to make itself known, alerting him to the beginning of dawn. It was time to get up. "The Master will be expecting me soon."

He heard movement as the woman pushed herself up, sitting next to him as their bedsheet clung to her bosom. Her arm moved up his body until her hand caressed his face. "Always the dutiful soldier, my Beloved," she said, her visible eye dancing with amusement, the corners of her mouth rising up in a smile.

The dark-haired man returned her smile with a small one of his own, and then leaned towards her, which prompted her to do the same. Their lips met as they kissed, each of them slow to pull away. "It is a shame that we cannot stay here," she murmured softly to him.

"Yes," he agreed.

"You should go then, before you are delayed. I shall meet you there."

With a nod, the man pulled himself away from the woman, sliding out of the bed and standing next to it. Nude, he walked towards a small room in the corner of the chamber, entering it and seeing a large basin of water and a small hand cloth. Taking the cloth, he soaked it in the cold water and began rubbing it against his skin, washing off the sweat of the night. Running water was scarce in the facility, saved for the Master and those he deemed worthy. For the rest, this simple scrubbing sufficed. He started with his arms, moving up them and to his shoulders, then down his chest and abdomen. His legs would come next, then as much of his back as he could. All the while he would dip the cloth back in the water to wet it.

Once done, he toss the cloth to the floor before picking up the basin and lifting it over his head pouring all the water onto him. The liquid washed down his body, splashing all over the floor. Due to the curvature of the floor, the water began swirling towards a drain in the middle of the room.

Done with his bathing, the man grabbed a dry towel and rubbed off any excess water on his person. Once finished, he tossed the towel to join the small cloth and left the room. He wasn't surprised to note that the woman was gone. Ignoring the empty bed, he trudged over to a wardrobe and opened the doors.

Inside was his armor on display, waiting for him. Piece by piece, he put it one, first his pants and undershirt, followed by the leg guards and body armor. The scale-like arm guards were next, followed by his gauntlets and tri-blades. The belt looped around his waist and came together with a click! as head and tail met. Lastly, he picked up his helmet, slipping it over his head, the room taking on a darker tint.

Ready, the man in black grabbed his cloak and began attaching it to his shoulder guards as he began walking to the door. By the time he reached it, he was in full uniform, leaving the comforts of his room as he entered a stone corridor.

With practiced ease, he navigated the labyrinth of halls. They were familiar to him as snow to a mountain. He was alone for the entire journey, which was not unexpected. Rarely were these corridors filled with the presence of others, his only company the sound of his footsteps.

That would change all too soon as he took a turn at the end of the corridor he was in, seeing a set of wooden doors shut tight at the end. Two assassins stood at attention, their arms held at their sides as they stared directly at him. The man gave them a once-over, eying their bodysuits and masks. Only elite members were given the honor of protecting these doors, though these two were not the only ones watching. There were a few more hidden throughout all the hall, ready at a moment's notice to eliminate all unwelcomed guests.

Confidently, he strode down the hallway, coming to a stop in front of the two visible guards. "I am here to see the Master," he spoke evenly. The two guards continued to stare at him before they acknowledged his words, pushing open the doors to allow him entry. Had they not done so, the man in black was sure that his back would be filled with knives, throwing stars, and poisoned darts had he so much as budged an inch in retreat or advancement.

Striding into the chamber, the doors closing behind him, the man stared directly at a throne on the opposite side of the room. Unlike most of the fortress, this room was brightly lit, revealing the man that sat on the raised dais, body relaxed and arms lyings on the arm rests. To his right, a taller, bald man stood, his arms crossed over his chest. The bald man was of no consequence when compared to the one seated on the throne.

The Demon's Head, Ra's al Ghul.

He held himself regally, his dark hair highlighted by streaks of white that started at his temples. Cold eyes watched the man approach his throne until he came to a stop, kneeling down and bowing his head down. "Master," he greeted stoically.

The Master remained silent for a moment as he regarded the dark-clad man. "I see you are well, Detective," he finally intoned, voice deep and sophisticated. "What news do you bring me?"

The Detective kept himself prostrated, a fist pressed into the floor before him. "I have fulfilled the Demon's will; the targets have been eliminated."

There was a brief pause before the Master spoke with a congratulatory tone, "This news pleases me. You may rise, Detective."

"As the Master pleases," he replied before he stood up, letting his cloak envelop him. He took note of the green cloak the Master wore, it being pushed to his right to reveal his white dress shirt and red tie. "What does the Demon bid of me?"

Ra's al Ghul smirked. "You have barely returned to reap the fruits of your long labor. Your passion and will never cease to amaze me, Detective."

"I only live to serve the Demon's Head."

"As do all of your comrades."

"Hardly a fair comparison, Father."

The Detective glanced to the Master's left and watched as a woman appeared from behind the throne. A skin-tight body suit covered her body, her hair falling over her face to reveal one eye. She was Talia, daughter of the Demon.

And he was her beloved.

"Perhaps," Ra's acknowledged, one of his hands reaching up to stroke the facial hair descending from his chin. "Very few have demonstrated such aptitude. Where many have crumbled in defeat, he has flourished in victory. One day, he may even become my Ubu."

The Detective switched his attention to the bald man, who scowled at the remark. He was the current Ubu, the Demon's right hand. It was not a position achieved through simple accomplishments, but through demonstration of skill and ruthlessness. Many strived to fill the position only to fail. "It is an honor to receive such praise," he said, bowing his head in reverence. "Though I am still unworthy of such an honor."

At those words, Ubu grunted his agreement.

Ra's graced him with an approving look. "As you mentioned earlier, I do have a new task for you. Your services are needed to secure one of the pits in the western hemisphere. Construction has been completed, which leads up to the installation of the bombs. There are few I would trust with such a task."

"What is your will, Master?"

"I require you to ensure the installation phase is complete at these sites. You will be briefed on the morrow as to your locations."

The Detective bowed his head. "The Master's will be done."

"Excellent. You may leave."

Kneeling once more, the Detective paid his respects before standing back up, turning to leave the chamber. He spared one last glance to Talia before he made his way to the entrance, the doors opening as he arrived to allow his leave. For the first time in awhile, he was granted a new assignment. It was refreshing to be doing something new and rewarding for his prior success.

After all, he lived to serve.


Once the doors were closed, Talia eyed her father.

"He has proven to be quite an asset, has he not?' Father stated, eyes locked on the doors. He was always a hard man to read. His countenance gave him a severe look that served to cower the souls of lesser men. Of course, a man did not rise to his status without such a commanding presence.

The dark-haired woman nodded her agreement. "That and more, Father."

"You should keep him in your confidences, Daughter," he told her, finally turning his head to regard her. "He may even prove to have other uses."

The corner of Talia's mouth raised. She was very well aware of the Detective's other uses. In fact, she had high hopes for him, much like her father—though hers were more ambitious. Now wasn't the time to reveal those just yet. "I intend to keep an eye on him. A man of his quality is difficult to come by."

"Quite. On that note, how are our preparations coming along?"

"We are exceeding schedule," she answered, taking the change of topic in stride. "Bomb placement has been confirmed throughout Eurasia and Africa. We are waiting on confirmation from our Australian and South American teams. The Detective, as you have just ordered, will be overseeing the North American operations."

Father was quiet for a moment, once more stroking his tuffs of facial hair before he said, "The smaller pits, though important, do not concern me as much as the larger ones. Those are the ones I wish for the Detective to confirm."

Remaining stoic, Talia hid the rising joy she felt. She had feared this latest objective would keep her beloved away once more. He had already been for so long, it was beginning to pain her. "I will relay your orders."

"Will you?" Her father seemed bemused. "Such a task is beneath you, Daughter. A sentry shall be sent to brief him."

"As you say, Father, I should keep the Detective in my confidences," Talia replied. "I must know he will take my orders as well as yours."

"I have no doubt that he would."

"All in his service to you. I would prefer he to know his loyalties first hand rather than assume I hold them. One must never assume the extent of their power."

Ra's nodded. "Very well, Daughter, I leave his briefing in your hands." There was a pause. "Now to the next matter: the Order has been sent on the reconnaissance missions, correct?"

This time Talia lost her good humor. Of all of the preparations her father wanted performed, this was the one she found most bothersome. He had been searching for this fabled temple since he was a young man and had come up empty-handed. To her, it was simply a legend that only desperate men yearned for; ironic that her father of all people still sought it out. If she had it her way, they wouldn't be bothering with this wild goose chase. These patrols were a waste of manpower they could use elsewhere. "I have assigned units to various locations across the globe, Father, as per your instructions. The sites that are believed to be the most likely locations will be given greater numbers for the investigation."

Father raised an eyebrow at her. Obviously something about her report displeased him. "And you made sure that each and every location will be investigated?"

"Of course, Father. I would never ignore your orders."

That seemed to placate him. "Very good, Daughter. As you are very well aware, I am sacrificing my lifeblood for our current objective. With the Detective's success at terminating the threat of the super-humans and aliens, we have reached the point of no return. If I am to continue leading us into the new era, the temple must be found."

Talia merely gave a sharp nod. She was very well aware of what the completion of their objectives would mean and she highly anticipated it. When Father wasn't forthcoming with further praise or demands, Talia took that opportunity to make her exit, bowing as she asked, "May I ask for you leave, Father?"

"You may and have it. Be well, my daughter."


She was here.

Sitting on the floor, his legs cross before him, the Detective breathed in the soothing scent of incense as he cleared his mind. Meditation was an important aspect of what he did, clearing his mind of worldly issues and trivial concerns. It helped to keep him in balance in a world that was anything but.

Though the incense filled the room, it could not disguise the alluring scent of jasmine, a perfume she favored. He knew she would seek him out once her duties to her father were completed; she always did so. Of course, this time was different. While she had no issue with entering through the front door, this time he felt her presence behind him without so much as an announcement.

"Leaving so soon, Beloved?"

The Detective opened his eyes. "The will of the Master must be done," he answered succinctly.

"Of course. It is that you have been gone for so long this time. I missed you."

"As have I."

Tilting his head to the side, the man caught sight of Talia walking around him until she stood in front of him. He followed her every step until he faced forward, looking up her long legs, flat stomach, and alluring face.

"You only just arrived last night," Talia continued her complaint, though she seemed amused by it all. "I was hoping to enjoy your company longer." Her eye narrowed. "Or is it my company that leaves much to be desired?"

"A lowly soldier can only be blessed by your favor," the Detective replied. "Were it not for my orders, I would relish in your company, Princess."

That seemed to satisfy the dark-haired woman. "You have done many things in the name of the Demon; for that you should be rewarded." She held out her arms, beckoning him to her. "Accept the fruits of your labor, Beloved."

The Detective hauled himself onto his feet, stepping towards the princess and entering her embrace. As her arms wrapped around him, he did the same, holding her tightly against him. Tilting his head down, he met her lips in a sweet kiss. Unlike this morning, it wasn't as chaste as he feasted on her. Though he was but a mere servant, always seeking the approval of his master, the princess was another he'd willingly give his life for.

All too soon, the kiss came to an end, the princess pulling her head back before he could continue his feasting. "You are too consumed with pleasing my father," Talia spoke, looking coyly up at him. "You should be placing your considerable energies elsewhere."

"All I do is for you," the Detective assured her, squeezing his arms tightly around the woman. "The Master is an unforgiving man—you know this. If he were to know of our union, he would have me put to death. To have you, I must do all I can to keep his approval."

"You speak so lowly of yourself." Her eye began to twinkle with mirth. "And you underestimate my father's opinion of you. He would approve of our courtship, that I have no doubt."

"Still, I think it would be better if he heard of us when I am Ubu rather than a lowly detective."

Talia's eye widened. "Such lofty goals." Then her eye narrowed. "Though I must ask, is that all you seek?"

"What else is there?" the Detective asked rhetorically. In truth, that was the highest he could go. Only a fool desired more than that and he was not one.

"More than you could dream of," Talia unexpectedly answered him.

He frowned under helmet. Something about those words unsettled him, but before he could inquire further, the princess said, "Come, there is much to do for your preparations and I have my own task to complete. As you would say, a fool's errand," she added with mirth twinkling in her eyes. The look disappeared just as quickly as her authoritative tone returned. "You will be leaving for America at dawn."

"As expected," the Detective said as he pulled out of her arms. The two of them exited the small room, leaving the incense burning behind them. "I'm assuming Metropolis, New York, and Washington are my destinations."

Talia shook her head, her hair brushing against her shoulders. "No. Though it would do much for furthering our goals, neither of those cities are pit locations."

The Detective frowned. That was a disappointment, especially since he was familiar with those cities. In fact, he was sure that knowledge was the reason he was given his latest task. "Then where am I departing for?"

"Gotham, Beloved."