The trip on the trucks was a long one, not that the Detective minded. He spent most of it focusing on his mediation, his eyes closed, ears open, and arms crossed over his armored chest. It wasn't like the small chamber back at the compound, what with the trucks bouncing once they left the city limits. Smooth asphalt had given way to dirt tracks some time ago, making this leg of the journey an unpleasant one.

Hearing a shrill sound, he opened his eyes and glanced to his men in the truck's bed. All sat at attention, waiting for their orders. The sound of multiple car doors opening alerted the masked man that they had arrived at their destination.

Grabbing the cloth flap next to him, the Detective pushed it aside, scanning his surroundings quickly and seeing that they had indeed reached their destination. Without a word, he leapt out of the truck, landing on his feet on the ground and strode towards an unfinished construction site, his cloak billowing out behind him. The sound of multiple boots hitting the ground soon followed as his men began to pour out of the trucks, lining up in rows as they had been trained to.

The ground was rocky, covered in white dirt that bore evidence of recent activity. Footprints and tire tracks mingled with each other all over the place, ending right by the rising I-beams that composed the frame of whatever building was going here. Of course, this place wasn't going to be finished ever; a large sign declare the land to be a part of the Head Development Corporations and warned that trespassers would be killed on sight. This was all just a cover to prevent prying eyes from snooping around. Of course, if such eyes proved to be persistent, there were way to make sure they never revealed what they saw.

"Rajir, sit-rep," the Detective demanded as he stood facing the construction site, searching for movement amongst the building supplies and construction equipment, seeing none. It helped that the site was built into the side of a hill, quarry rock making for a white backdrop. All he could see, however, was the silhouette of construction equipment and supplies left behind as if the construction crews intended on returning. Behind him, he heard one of the ninjas approaching, coming to a stop a few steps away.

"The bomb is in place," Rajir informed him, his voice low and caressing. "If you head to the quarry wall, you will find the entrance to the caverns below."

The Detective gave a sharp nod. "Any unusual activity I should be aware about?"

"No, Sir. The construction crews have been given leave and dispersed; constant patrols have been active as of 72 hours ago. The perimeter has not been breached."

"And the construction site?"

"Guards are currently positioned throughout the site. None have dispatched any intruders capable enough to slip by the patrols."

Sounded as if the area was secure. Tilting his head to a side, he addressed Rajir, "Station your men as instructed by the Master. I will perform my inspection and issue further orders when finished."

"As you command." He saw the ninja salute him out of the corner of his eye before walking off. There was no doubt his orders would be obeyed to the letter, which left the Detective with his primary objective. Stepping forward, he headed for the construction site, disappearing within its depths and out of sight of his men. He was a cautious man by nature, so he kept his eyes out for any unforeseen obstacles, though there shouldn't be any. The League of Assassins had been keeping guard here since development began, so there shouldn't be any surprises.

Not that he wouldn't make sure. Making his way around a pallet with sacks of concrete arranged on it, the Detective swept his eyes around the desolate place. He kept a hand on his belt, hidden from sight by his cloak in the event he needed to strike first. So far, it was just as Rajir had informed him. His sharp eyes were able to pick out three of the League's guards, but no one that could be construed as a trespasser. Though he was trained to spot hidden assailants, he would have to have a word with the three he spotted. They were trained to be invisible to anyone and everyone, even people like himself. Nothing short of perfection was acceptable.

Fortunately, the journey to the rock wall was uneventful, though that now left him the problem of finding the entrance. From his briefing, he had been informed that it wasn't visible to the naked eye. Because they didn't want just anyone finding it, effort had been put into hiding it in plain sight.

So when sight failed you, the other four senses had to take over. Raising a hand, the Detective touched the wall with the tips of two of his fingers and began walking to his right, dragging his fingers against the rough surface. He continued this, focusing his attention on any inconsistencies with the quarry rock's surface. The moment he felt his fingers leave the rock, feeling nothing but empty air, he knew he had found it. Turning to his left, he backed up a step, still staring at nothing except a rock face. Stepping towards it while keeping both hands up, the Detective soon entered a path, vanishing inside the wall.

So far everything was going right. The workers had done a good job cutting the rock to create an optical illusion. No one would be able to find it unless they were specifically looking for it or already knew where it was.

Of course, if anyone other than the Fangs of the Demon knew of this place, they wouldn't know for long.

Reaching out with his arms, the Detective searched for the sides of the path, finding the uneven touch of the walls with his fingertips. Hmm, what a wide corridor for a hidden entrance. He would have to speak to the designer about such a misstep. It was a mystery how no one had stumbled upon it yet.

That would come later. Pressing on, the Detective followed the path, vanishing into it dark depths.


"Sister? May I have a word?"

Zatanna turned away from the supercomputer, seeing Wonder Woman looking down at her intently. Maybe it was just her, but the magician was having a hard time focusing her eyes since everything seemed blurry. She must've been looking at the monitor screen way too long for this to happen, so perhaps this was as good time as any for a break.

"Go ahead," she replied to the Amazon, turning her seat to face the much taller woman. She blinked her eyes to clear up the blurriness, hoping it didn't look too strange.

"You seem to have a great deal of knowledge when it comes to this Batman person and the city of Gotham," Wonder Woman began, clearly leading up to something. At the moment, Zatanna wasn't in a frame of mind to guess exactly what. "While the rest of us are grasping at what this man is like, we have failed to see that you have many of the answers that we require."

"So you want me to tell you about Batman," she summarized, propping her head up with her arm as she rested her elbow on the arm rest. "I've been asked the question before, but I get the feeling that perhaps you all aren't asking the right questions."

That made the Amazon frown at her. "And what would those right questions be?"

Zatanna shrugged. "Beats me. I'm just the one with answers."

The corner of the taller woman's mouth twitched up. "Forgive me for repeating questions; I must have been under the spell of the nanites when you went over it." She paused for a moment as she considered her next words. "If you would be so kind, I would like to know what this city was like with him protecting it. While I have watched over Gateway, all I ever heard was of whispers of this city and very few of them were good."

Zatanna leaned back in her chair, gazing up at the ceiling, absently noting the lack of bats hanging above their heads. What a question that was. "I only ever been to Gotham a couple times," she began before quickly adding, "before Batman began patrolling it. From what I remember of it, it wasn't all that nice. It was a city living in the past as the rest of the country was moving away from what made it great. Manufacturing, shipping, industry—those were slowly being outsourced or cheaper labor was brought in. In turn, people began turning to crime families who took advantage of them. Soon enough, they controlled the city and the rest of the country kinda pretended it wasn't there, preferring the newer, brighter future of Metropolis and Gateway.

"Then the Batman showed up. Suddenly, you had predators of the worst kind going back into the holes they crawled out of. Things got better. In a way, he made it possible for my show to even consider coming here—despite what the other cities say, the money's in Gotham. Sure, you've got those billion-dollar corporations like Lexcorp, but for everyone of those Gotham can throw out five that are headquartered here. Even when things fell into disrepair, the money stayed here, so it just became a matter of if you wanted to risk all the bad things that could happen for a taste."

Zatanna had to stop herself when she realized that what she was saying had little meaning to the Amazon. Wasn't she from some sort of women-only island or something? Judging from the look Wonder Woman was giving her, it was pretty obvious she was listening to what the magician was saying, but not really understanding the deep-seeded rivalry that existed between cities. She may as well have been trying to explain the difference between quantum physics and relativity. Ix nay on the politics-ay.

So going back to her narration, the shorter woman decided to pick up with the more relevant stuff, particularly involving crime. Surely a super hero would understand that subject. "Unfortunately, with the fall of traditional crime, something had to fill that void. That's where people like the Joker and that Hush guy came in. Everyone just wasn't prepared for that and we were all blindsided by it. Even Batman."

"Evil is difficult to smite," Wonder Woman said; whether that was to be encouragement or just a general statement, Zatanna didn't know nor bothered trying to puzzle it out. "As long as I've been here, it seems as if more and more men choose to submit themselves to it."

The magician shrugged her shoulders. "We all can't be perfect and it's hard to hang onto morals when every day is a challenge."

"Yet your Batman did."

"That's because he was different." Zatanna started straight ahead, completely ignoring the sight of red and blue cloth wrapped around a taut body. "We...met...before he put on that mask. Even then he was driven just as he was when...I last saw him. I just didn't see it at the time because I was...more interested in other things."

That admission perked the curiosity of the Amazon. "How did you meet?"

"He wanted my father to teach him to be an escape artist. When he was finish he left just like he came." Zatanna paused at that. "Come to think of it, that sounds like all the men in my life."

"Good men are hard to come by," the taller woman said sagely.

"Amen."

A silence fell upon the two, mostly because Zatanna wasn't sure what to say next and the Amazon was waiting on her to continue. What else was there to say though? There really wasn't much more to say about Batman other than he came, he saw, he kicked some ass, then left. Gotham hadn't been the same since, though you could probably argue the city slid back into familiar habits once he was gone, as if he hadn't ever been there. Now that was upsetting to think about.

Almost as if she was reading her mind, Wonder Woman asked, "Why this city then? Why did he choose this one out of all the rest?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Well, perhaps Zatanna could make a hell of a better guess than most, but there were some things she was adamant about not talking about and that was anything that could give anyone an inkling to Bruce's identity. Hmm, now that she thought about it, she was going to have to email Lucius Fox again pretty soon. She had been making sure he at least knew that Bruce was active somewhere in the world, even if that was tanning on a beach or mountain climbing in the Himalayas, which inadvertently got canceled due to a major storm. The things she did for the guy. "Though I guess if you asked Superman or Flash the same question, you'd get something like them living there or just wanting to do good things. The way we each do something is different, but in the end we all have the same goal."

Wonder Woman went quiet for a moment before looking to the Flash-named Batcomputer. "Then it is a shame that his efforts were wasted."

Something prickled the magician at those carelessly spoken words. So what if there was truth in them, to have someone say out loud that Bruce gave up everything for nothing just didn't sit right with her. "I wouldn't say that," she retorted quickly, shifting in her seat. Why had this chair gotten so uncomfortable so suddenly?

Wonder Woman returned her gaze to her. "The evil that resides in this city has returned to reclaim its dominion over it despite Batman's best efforts. It may be harsh to say, but can you argue otherwise?"

Okay, Zatanna was really not liking this woman. Yeah, she had been complaining about her in her head, but that was out of insecurity and a little bit of jealousy—just a little, a tiny bit, nothing ugly because Zatanna Zatara was not a hater. Besides, she'd like to see this almighty Amazon say that to Bruce's face. He'd show her a thing or two.

Taking her silence as an admission of defeat, the Amazon continued, "With the return of crime, it seems to me like your friend was just a short reprieve against the evils of men. I find that sad. If men cannot help their kin change themselves, what hope is there for the world?"

"You say that as if no one cared about Batman," Zatanna remarked icily.

"The city does seem to be presenting itself that way."

The magician seethed at that insult. Who the hell was she to say how other people felt? The dark-haired woman wanted nothing more than to tell her as much, but something occurred to her. Obviously the Amazon respected action more than words. Well, perhaps she better give it to her.

Sitting up in her seat, Zatanna reached to the nearby drawer and opened it, pulling out a couple more earpieces. "Here." She held one out to Wonder Woman, who took it without objection. Huh. She was at least expecting a "why?" instead of blatant trust.

Leaning to a side, she called out over her shoulder, "Hey, Superman, Flash—Wonder Woman and I are heading out."

There was a red blur and Flash was suddenly at their sides. "What's up? Something pop up on the Batcomputer or something?"

Zatanna waved him off. "Nah, just girl talk."

The red-clad man just stared at her before he took a step back. "Oh, okay, have fun." Then with another blur, he raced back to the lab.

Wonder Woman raised an eyebrow at her. "Girl talk?"

The magician shrugged. "It's not like it's not true. Besides, it's simpler this way."

"If you say so, Sister."


The room was enveloped in a sickly green glow. The rocky chamber had been drilled into, then cut to form a pit. An uneven path ran along the wall, forming a circle around a hole. In the hole was a noxious, bubbling, viscous green fluid, wafting visible streaks of green gas up towards the ceiling. There must've been an outtake pipe somewhere high above, otherwise this entire chamber should've been full of the gas.

Something about the green pool made the Detective feel on edge. It was as if a more instinctual, reptilian part of him was urging him to flee as fast as he could. It clearly didn't like the pit and he wasn't one to disagree with instinct.

So this was Lazarus.

The Detective had heard whispers of such liquid. Once he had tried to discover what it was, only to have his curiosity squelched at the Master's command. Further probing into Talia at a later date had left him with a coy smile and a riddle of defying death. The vagueness of her answer had led the black-clad man into forming his own theories, none of which a sane man couple possibly prove, thought he did have indication from Talia that he was on the right track.

That was of little consequence now. High above the pit were a set of metal arms, fixed to the wall by bolts and support beams. The arms were directly across from each other, extending out over the pit until they met each other in the middle. Each end formed a pincer, each one holding up the side of a large, round bomb. According to the schematics and computer program, when a frequency was activated, the pincers would open and drop the bomb below. The heat sensors would detect the sudden environmental temperatures as it sank into the waters, reaching a pre-programmed target temperature. Once it reached that number...boom.

The Detective's assessment of the systems and the security of the bomb had been quick and efficient. Everything was set to go.

Crouching on one of the arms, the Detective flipped opened a panel in the metal surface. He was greeted with the sight of a keypad, a small monitor screen, and three small lights. Extending a finger, he punched in the activation code, seeing the numbers appear on the screen. With the code in, he hit the enter button and watched as the code was accepted. The three lights flashed on, one red, one yellow, and one green. First the green and yellow lights went off, leaving only the red. This indicated that the computer was on, but it would not release the bomb.

Back to the keypad, the Detective punched in the arming code, pressing enter once completed. The red light blinked out, replaced by the green one. A timer appeared on the monitor screen, reading 10. Quickly, the black-clad man entered the third and last code, seeing the yellow light go on. There, it was now on stand-by mode. Once the correct frequency was used, the countdown would begin.

Closing the lid, the Detective, pulled out a small, hand-held blowtorch. Lighting it, he pressed the flame against the crease between the lid and the rest of the arm. Thanks to the visor on his helmet, he didn't need to take extra safety precautions as he soldered the lid permanently shut.

There, he was now finished. Turning off the torch and placing it back into its pouch on his belt, the Detective turned to one side and dropped off the arm, landing in a crouched posture upon the ground. Standing up, he began walking towards the entrance, pausing once there long enough to gaze at the Lazarus Pit for a moment.

Once more his instinctual self was raising his internal alarms. Just the sight of the green waters made him feel uneasy. If his current theory was correct, then he understood why his Master was fond of these pits. Perhaps if he became Ubu, he would receive confirmation. Yet, if what he thought was true, then it raised some ugly questions about the Master. Why he was insistent on maintaining a young man's fable made him less of the great savior that he was. Then again, who was he to question the Master's motives? Surely there was a reason for why he was chosen out of everyone throughout history to prolong life.

Turning away, the Detective walked into the exit, following the short corridor until he reached a much larger chamber. Unlike the pit behind him, there was a lot more construction equipment here, ranging from a bulldozer, scaffolding that formed a semi-circle along the wall around half the room, and several crates scattered about. To either side of the pit's entrance were stone columns, both serving as support for a large piece of stone over head.

Those had been made by the workers for whatever reason. Still, the Detective found a use for it, having attached plastic explosives to the support columns when he had first arrived. Walking a distance away, the black-clad man turned around to face the entrance, staring into its depths as the sickly green light poured through it.

Reaching to his belt, he opened a pouch and pulled out a small detonator. Turning it on, he then pressed the trigger button, watching stoically as the explosives detonated in a burst of flames and smoke. The stone columns shattered into smaller pieces of rock, which left the much larger stone they'd been holding up to collapse to the ground. A tremor rocked the room as dust and smoke shot out all over the room. Waiting, the Detective stared straight ahead until the dust settled down.

As planned, the large stone covered the Lazarus Pit entrance, blocking it from sight. There, this pit was secured and prepped. Sticking the detonator back into the pouch, the Detective stared at his handiwork for a moment longer before he prepared to leave.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha."

The Detective's eyes widen as he whipped around. Someone else was done here? How? When? Had they seen what was going on here?

"Ha, ha-ha, ha-ha."

The laugh, it was everywhere, echoing and bouncing off the walls, ruining any chance he had at locating it source by ear. The tone was dry, devoid of humor as if the laughter was sarcastic or deadpan. Turning around, eyes sweeping the scaffolding and finding nothing, the black-clad man kept spinning, searching in vain until he found himself staring right at the debris of the hidden pit entrance.

"Oh, eh, eh, ha, oh, he, he, ha...ha…"

And then he felt it, a presence behind him. Twisting around, a hand going to his belt for a throwing star, the Detective found himself staring between two support bars for the scaffolding, deep into the recesses of a dark crevasse.

A man emerged from the crevasse then, encased in a dark colored—possibly purple—trench coat. Green, stringy hair framed his pale white face, sunken eyes staring at him. Was it just him, or was there some sort of scarring on the side of his face? Some kind of burn?

The Detective's eyes dropped to the pale man's right hand, the handle of an assault rifle dangling in his grasp. Beneath the gun's barrel was a grenade launcher attachment, making for a very dangerous weapon.

Eyes glancing back up, he was just in time to see the pale man's red lips stretch open, revealing yellowed teeth.

"Now there's my Batman."


See? Told y'all things would be picking up. That dry laughter by the Joker is based on the one Heath Ledger used in the Dark Knight, when he's crashing the mob families' meeting. I can't tell y'all how many times I went over clips of that scene just to make sure I got the laugh right.