Superman wasn't happy.

He was a virtual stone gargoyle as he sat on his throne...ahem, large chair. Shayera would've rolled her eyes if she wasn't completely surrounded by the others. Someone who had disagreed with Superman had accused him of sitting on his throne above everyone. Superman and Diana had disagreed with that accusation, referring to the Kryptonian's seat as a large chair. The disagreer continued to disagree. He was then burnt alive by Superman's heat vision.

Such accusations weren't said in the man's presence ever since.

Tonight, however, the entire League had been called in. The original members plus their new flock—even Cyborg had beamed down from the Watchtower to attend. Well, they were missing one member actually, but he was indisposed of at the moment.

Sometimes it paid to be the ruler of all the oceans.

A hologram was playing before them. It was of the guardroom which lead to the side entrance. Three guards were manning the station when one entered the room. He rushed up to the desk, getting the three guards' attention.

The frame stopped.

"This is our escapee," Superman intoned. "You'll notice the taser he's holding behind his back."

Indeed he was. The feed resumed. Two of the guards bolted to the hallway, leaving the escapee and the other guard at the station. With brutal efficiency, he used the taser to take down the guard and throw him to the floor. He then turned around and went after the other two. They didn't stand a chance as he went for their knees, then their heads, and finally laid the final blows. It had taken a handful of seconds to do all of that.

"Geez, that's insane," Shazam said breathlessly. "It's like something out of a kung fu movie!"

"Not the time, Shazam," Cyborg warned him. A quick glance to Superman just showed how much he appreciated that comment—meaning he didn't at all. "Mind telling the rest of us why you brought us all here?" the half-man, half-machine asked, looking to the Kryptonian.

Diana took over the meeting. "This is the man Green Lantern brought in from the Memorial Plaza. We believe he is a new member of the Bat Underground; how they managed to keep such a person a secret is currently unknown, but he's just been unleashed."

Enchantress raised a hand, which earned her a nod from the Amazon. "I'm still not seeing how this is important. If Lantern managed to capture him once, he can do it again."

"It's important because he has disappeared," she answered the sorceress. "John already searched the surrounding area and wasn't able to find him. He's somewhere in Neo-Metropolis."

"How do you know this?" Shayera quickly asked. If it was already known he was in the city, then a door-to-door search was needed to flush him out. It didn't require the entire League to be summoned. Hell, not even their lackeys were here, not that they were usually called in for meetings. It was one thing to have them in a fight; it was another to plan an operation with them. Most didn't have the brainpower to plot and were best used as super-powered soldiers.

When an answer wasn't forthcoming, the Thanagarian scowled. "Don't tell me you're assuming he's still in the area. How long ago did this happen? A few hours? That's plenty of time to get a ride and hightail it to somewhere else. He could very well be in another city by now."

"Shayera's probably right," John agreed, sighing reluctantly.

"That's unacceptable." Superman leaned forward in his chair, though he never removed his hands and arms from the armrests. "I want him brought back now. I want to know why he's wearing a Batsuit; I want to know where he got his training."

"Maybe it was the old-fashioned way?" Shazam suggested, earning him many stares. "What? The feed showed a karate master, right? He could've trained himself for a long time and just got recruited."

"That is a good point," John joined in. "Which means he may not be one of a limited number of potential Insurgents. I know we've been at this for awhile, but the level of mastery the escapee showed would have taken years to get, maybe even more than a decade. No way would the Bat Underground have the time and resources to have a small army of these kind of guys trained."

"Unless it isn't skill," Cyborg pointed out. "We were able to give superpowers to people in pill form. Who isn't to say the Bat Underground hasn't made their own version with martial arts skills?"

To Shayera that was dumb. If you could make a pill that granted abilities, why go for fighting skills? It made more sense to give super-strength, or super-speed, or an increased healing factor. There were just a multitude of things she could think of that such technology could be used for.

"Which is why I want him brought in—alive," Superman stressed, causing the Thanagarian to raise an eyebrow in response. It had been a long time since the Kryptonian had advocated the use of restraint. "I want to learn everything we can, even what this man knows about the Insurgency. Any information that allows us to end their petty resistance is worth the effort."

"Cyborg, you'll be manning the satellites," Diana instructed. "Find whatever you can on how this man escaped. If you can track him to a safe house, or hideout, we want to know where and for how long he was there. John, Shayera, and Shazam will do aerial surveillance. Cover every last inch of Neo-Metropolis. Raven and Enchantress will use their magic to sniff him out through the ethereal plane."

"What about the others?" Shayera asked. They had quite a few former bad guys on their payroll—not that they were getting paid with anything material, just their lives—why not use them? "Having Killer Frost and the others cooling their heels may not be the way to go with them."

"What do you propose, Sister?" Diana questioned.

"John, Shazam, and I will form teams and have them patrol the city, the three of us keeping an eye on them. They can at least do a door-to-door sweep while we keep an eye from the sky."

"Good idea, Shayera," Superman praised her. He even leaned back into his throne, resting comfortably. "I'll leave your teams to your discretion. Is there anything else?"

The only response he got was silence. "Then go do your jobs," he ordered them.

With that, the Justice League left the room, leaving Diana and Superman behind. A part of Shayera prickled at that. Ever since Zatanna's insurrection five years ago, the Kryptonian had been content on leaving the League's activities to the others. He rarely left the throne room now and Diana was constantly at his side. While she did leave it on certain occasions, such as her retreats to Themyscira, those were becoming less and less common. One might say the two were more content in each other's company.

If that was the case, then the winged woman was going to give them a piece of her mind. She was just as invested in their cause as they were and she would not be relegated to second-tier status.

Soon, she found John and Shazam gathering around her as the three headed down a hallway in the Hall of Justice. "Can one of you tell me why this is so important?" the red-clad hero asked them.

Shayera was thankful that John chose to be the one to answer the young man. "Batman was a friend. Not all of us got along with him, but he was one of us."

"And now that someone's wearing his mask, that's upsetting everyone." Shazam nodded as if he understood everything. "I can get that."

"Do you? Can you imagine if one of your friends was killed, but then some maniac decided to take their place? Claim that they stand for what your friend did and use it against you?"

"...okay, I guess I didn't. I do now."

"At least you had the wisdom not to say it in front of Superman and Wonder Woman," John remarked. "That conversation would not have ended well for you."

"Were they that close to him?"

"Diana was," Shayera answered this time. "Superman not as much. I think he takes anything against his regime personal. If the Insurgents had named it the Flash Underground, he'd be just as serious in taking it down."

"Well, you gotta give them points for tastes," Shazam said then. "Bat Underground sounds a lot better than the Flash Underground."

Shayera and John shared a look, smirks appearing on their face. The kid was alright; immature to be sure, but alright.

He had entered the city limits of Neo-Gotham a couple miles back. Ever since, the hairs on the back of his neck had stood on end.

There was something wrong here. Gotham—his Gotham—had changed so much. Like Metropolis, it had gone all-in on a futuristic makeover. Though there were still some older, brick-and-mortar buildings, the majority belonged to the new design. As he passed vehicles, they too were sleeker with more aerodynamic features than the cars and trucks he was used to.

Yet, that wasn't what disturbed Batman. What did was the lack of noise. There were no loud, blaring car horns, or people shouting at the top of their lungs in either terror, or anger. In fact, there wasn't even a scrap of litter in the streets.

Gotham...was clean.

Since his escape from the "Hall of Justice," Batman had kept his guard uniform on. He found that no one messed with him the moment they caught sight of him, so why take it off? He had then gone to a bunker he had in Metropolis—now Neo-Metropolis. Part of him wondered if this was some alternate-Earth he was on, though it seemed if he had a doppelganger, he had taken the same steps he had. In the bunker he had found supplies and even a motorcycle waiting for him. He hadn't stayed like, but he did take the opportunity to restock his belt and fix his connection problem with his palm pilot. Oddly enough, all it had taken was a quick device sync with the computer there to restore it.

Currently, he was straddling the motorcycle as he slowed to a stop. He had entered a residential area of Neo-Gotham, one he was rather familiar with. It was one of the suburbs towards the north side of town and from the look of it, it had resisted the call for change that the rest of the city had answered. There was something comforting about that.

In fact, he saw a young couple strolling down the sidewalk, clearly smitten with each other. Sitting on his bike on the side of the street, Batman watched them. There was no paranoia, no stress, no worry; they were simply taking a late-night stroll without a fear of being mugged.

How had this happened?

As it turned out, what the couple had to fear was not a criminal. Seemingly out of nowhere, one of the masked guards appeared; no doubt he was just patrolling the area. However, instead of ignoring the couple, he made a beeline right for them. There was no nightstick, no gun pulled. In fact, the moment the couple saw him, they both froze.

Even from where Batman was seated on his bike, he heard the patrolman say, "You're out past curfew." There was no question, no inquiry as to why they were out; it was just a cold observation, one that lent to an impending storm.

"I'm sorry," the civilian man gushed, slowly edging himself between the officer and the woman. The woman looked just as frightened as her friend and tried to make herself as small as possible behind him. "We just lost track of time and my place is just two—"

The patrolman grabbed the gentleman by his arm and squeezed down. Immediately, the man stopped his blabbering and began crying out in pain. There was a waist-high chain link fence next to them and the patrolman forced his captive up against it, twisting the man's arm behind his back. "You are under arrest for curfew violation," the officer spoke. "You will be remanded to the Neo-Gotham Precinct, where you will be incarcerated for a duration no shorter than one year."

That was enough. Though he was trying to keep a low profile—not that a motorcycle would do that—the vigilante would not watch an abuse of power occur before his eyes. Taking the patrolman down like he would your garden variety mugger was not the way to go about it, but since he was dressed as a guard, there was another card he could play.

Swinging himself off his bike, Batman marched over to the altercation, coming to a stop a few paces away. If this went south, he would not hesitate to take this officer down. The woman saw him and let out a small shriek, one that got both men's attention and caused them to look to her, then at him.

"What are you doing here?" the patrolman demanded, his grip on his captive relaxing slightly. "None of the patrol routes intersect. Get back to your route."

"You're wanted at headquarters," Batman grunted back, imitating the patrolman's detached mannerism. "I was sent to relieve you for the duration of your patrol."

That caused the officer some pause. "Why wouldn't they call that over the comm system?" he asked suspiciously.

"There's been a problem with the comm system all night. There was an update that's been causing them all to go inoperable on random devices at random times. They're calling in all patrols in the field to make sure they fix the issue and sent in replacements."

The officer mulled that before he let go of his captive's arm, but kept a hand pressed against his back should he get the idea to attempt fleeing. "I just need to take these two to the precinct. I'll take them with me."

Batman moved in then, grabbing the civilian by his arm and returning it to where the patrolman had been holding it. "I've got this. You just get your comm device looked at."

"Alright then."

Batman held his position, keeping an eye on the patrolman until he disappeared from sight. Then he addressed the couple, "Where are you two going?" His voice was softer, an attempt at comforting them.

"Two houses down," the man gasped out, even as the vigilante slowly relaxed the strain he was putting on the man's arm.

He let go of the arm. "I'll take you both there. Don't speak about this to anyone."

The man had spun around, one hand clutching at his hurting arm. "Why are you doing this?" he asked suspiciously.

"Would you rather I take you both in?"

That ended any more questioning. Keeping his distance even as the couple nearly glued themselves to each other, he chaperoned them to their house, making sure they got in and locked their door behind them. Finished with that, Batman then returned to his motorcycle, throwing a leg over it as he took a seat.

It was then he looked up and down the street, taking in the emptiness of the neighborhood. Fear was well and alive in this place, its target different. That wasn't to say there weren't corrupt cops, or ones that abused their power in the Gotham he knew, but to see it so openly was upsetting.

"I'm in a nightmare," he spoke softly before he turned on his bike and got the hell out of there.

There was no depth the Regime wouldn't sink too. In all of the years Oliver Queen had been hitting the streets, taking down gangsters and made men, never had he seen so much disregard for integrity. Hell, even criminals had honor amongst thieves.

Whoever would've thought he'd missed them?

The Regime was very much into showy demonstrations. If there was a chance to have a parade celebrating themselves, they took it. It was like a Pride Parade, just without anything worth being proud of. It was a big deal, the media did all sorts of promotion for it, and they had their PR stunt in the bag.

Their latest exhibit was most certainly not a parade. In this case, they had found a large statue in one of the most popular parks in Neo-Metropolis. It was of the High Councilor, one in which he stood tall and proud, with one hand held out as if to offer a helping hand. It was from the hand that chains were wrapped around and hung from, the body of Jefferson Pierce dangling from it.

Headline: REGIME TAKES DOWN INSURGENT BOSS. Real Headline: REGIME MURDERS AND DISPLAYS DISSENTER.

Jefferson deserved better than to be made an example. They hadn't always seen eye to eye, but there had always been a mutual respect between him and Ollie. No way would the archer allow him to be a threat to other activists, to silence their voice in fear of the same being done to them.

Because this was Jefferson, the Regime hadn't seen to simply string him up and leave. No, they left a patrol of about five men, two that stood at attention by the statue while the other three roamed the park. No doubt there were more hidden from sight.

Which is why Ollie brought his own crew.

They were the Green Arrows. He rather liked the name considering it was pointless for him to use it now. However, while he was the only one that remotely looked like an archer, the others opted for more traditional weapons—guns mostly.

Together, four of them were waiting in the bushes. Their fifth member would be showing up any—

"Boss," the fifth man said as he returned, kneeling next to them. Well, that was quick. "You're not gonna believe this, but it's only those five guys. I even checked for drones, but I got nothing."

"I don't like that," another man muttered. "It's like they're inviting us to try."

"Oh, they definitely are," Ollie replied. "All this means is that backup is mere minutes away. Since this is a park, they need drones to monitor it at all times. Without them, they're relying on the big Watchtower in the sky. All this means is if we take these guards out quietly, we can get Jefferson down from Big Black's hand and haul butt out of here. Two minutes tops."

"So how do we take out the guards?" the scout asked.

"Just leave them to me. You guys get as close to Jefferson as you can without being seen."

Receiving nods, his boys slowly began creeping towards the statue, using bushes to keep out of sight. In the meantime, Ollie went to the nearest tree and climbed it, settling down on a thick branch.

From here he could see a good chunk of the park. There were the two guards by the statue naturally, so he'd save them for last. That just left the three patrolmen. Notching an arrow to his bow, he sought them out in the dim lighting the light posts provided. There was one in clear view of the guards, one by the treeline on the opposite side of the park from him, aaaaaand...now where was the third guy?

It took a minute, but he soon spotted him far to the back and clearly out of range of the others. He was heading back to them though. Eyeballing the distance, he estimated it was about 1,200 yards away, maybe a little further. The longest recorded distance for shooting arrows was 1,222.

He was better than that.

Taking aim with his arrow, he made his adjustment for the man's slow pace and shrinking distance before he let it go. The arrow flew silently through the air until it hit the patrolman right in the middle of the face. There was a flash of electricity, indicating his trick stunning arrow had done its job. The man collapsed into a heap on the ground.

Quickly, Ollie pulled out another arrow and notched it. This one was just a blunt end, but with the force he was going to apply to it, it would be more than enough. Taking aim at the guard on the opposite side of the park to him, he fired at him, and saw him drop just like his friend.

He had another arrow ready to go, another blunted one. This one was going to be tricky. See, the guard he was targeting was still within seeing distance of his two friends by the statue. Fortunately, he was approaching one of the larger bushes. So he waited...and waited...and waited…

He released his arrow. His timing was spot on as his blunted arrow nailed his target in the back of his head, the force either giving him a concussion, or knocking him out—or hopefully both. The man dropped to his knees then fell over onto his stomach where he didn't budge.

That just left two more. This time, Ollie pulled out regular arrows, notching both on his bow. They formed a V as their ends were nearly together, separated only by his finger. The tips, on the other hand, were separated by a couple of inches. Pulling back on the drawstring, he then let them go.

Unlike the first three, his aim was not for headshots. This time, his arrows pierced the legs of the two remaining guards, one through the thigh while the other took it in the knee. Both cried out as they dropped to their uninjured leg.

And then Ollie's buds swarmed at the two. Though they had guns, they used them to get in close and personal, pistol whipping the guards, punching them with their bare hands, or kicking them with their feet. Regardless, they deserved to have some fun in this caper and this was Ollie's gift to them.

By the time he had jumped out of the tree and walked up to them, they had thoroughly thrashed the guards. "Alright, guys, party's over. Let's do what we came to do," he ordered.

Without hesitation, three of the men went to get Jefferson down. One of them, however, walked right up to Ollie. "I found something on one of them," he told the archer, handing a folded piece of paper. Looking at it curiously, he took the paper and unfolded it.

It was of a WANTED poster. He knew that because it said WANTED in bold letters at the top of the page. The person in question looked as if they had taken their wardrobe cues from Batwoman, though the description was of a man.

Well, this wasn't going to end well.

"Looks like some idiot is dressing up like Batman," Ollie said as he crumpled up the notice and tossed it to the ground. While he was totally against littering, and it was one of the few good things the Regime had actually enforced, one little ball of paper wasn't going to ruin the clean, pristine image of their city of pride and joy. Besides, screw the Regime. They could pick up the trash...and the wanted poster.

Ha, see what he did there?

"Chop, chop, guys, Jefferson can't rot any faster," he told his crew, even as they were beginning to lower the man to the ground. "We have a minute before backup comes and we either fight our way out, or join Jefferson up there. Me personally? I rather not dangle like a booger from Big Black's finger."

The tunnel amplified the roar of the motorcycle engine, making it louder than it actually was. Batman rode down the familiar pathway until he pulled into his cave.

He had been expecting some differences, especially if this was an alternate Earth, and he found them. However, they weren't the differences he had been expecting. The moment he pulled up along side his car, parked on the turnstile as usual, he saw that most of his cave setup was just how he had placed it. The main change was the scattering of crates and...well, garbage. It looked like a pigsty rather than the base of his operations.

That upset him, actually.

Getting off the motorcycle, Batman began stripping himself of the guard uniform, tossing it to the floor next to the bike. After removing the helmet and placing his cowl back on, he then made his way to the supercomputer, moving to the chair. As he drew closer though, he began to frown.

The computer, it was off. He never turned it off. It had a sleep mode and there was an off mode, but he let the computer go into hibernation all of the time. Frowning, he moved in front of the console, ignoring the chair for the time being. With his right hand, he typed on familiar keys, trying to activate the system.

Which was another point. Though the supercomputer wasn't on, the lights of the cave were. That meant the generator was running, so someone was using this pl—

There. He felt the presence. Whoever it was, their eyes were right on him, boring holes into his back. Moving his left hand up, he began typing with those fingers while his right moved to his belt. Slowly, he pulled out a shuriken and held it at the ready.

Now.

Batman spun to his right until he came to face to the left side of the computer. The entire time he swung his arm out and sent the shuriken whirling through the air. He heard a clash and saw a flash of light, right before there was a dull thud behind and to his right. Turning his head, he saw a bat-shaped shuriken sticking out of the side of the chair's back.

However, this shuriken was different from his. Where his was curved, this one had its "wings" extended from closer to its head rather than the body. The outer-edge of the wings was red while its inner side was black, much like the rest of the shuriken.

That was when he heard the tell-tale sound of more shuriken being thrown. Immediately, Batman dove forward, going into a roll as the floor moved down his shoulders and back until he came to his feet. Where he had been standing, three bat-shaped projectiles hit, piercing the ground.

In an instant, Batman had his own shuriken out, but he held it. Instead, he looked out into the cave, searching for the intruder. It took a moment, but he caught a sign of movement towards his left. Immediately, he sent the projectile flying, only he released it far to his right. Even as he turned to keep the location of his foe in his sights, he was aware of the shuriken making a wide arc as it began to travel less away from him and more across the cave. If the projectile hit nothing, it would return to him once it completed it circle.

However, he had struck true. There was a cry of pain followed by someone falling to the floor of the cave. However, before they hit, their hands reached out to the cape that was trailing behind them and it immediately stiffened. The intruder's fall slowed down rapidly before their feet landed hard on the floor.

For a moment, Batman was stunned by what he saw. This person, whoever they were, was dressed in an armored suit, a red bat symbol on their chest. They were clearly a woman from the curvature of their figure, not to mention the long, flowing red hair. The woman scowled at him from behind her mask.

"Who are you?" Batman demanded then, shifting his stance to a defensive one. "What are you doing here?"

"Those are my questions, intruder," she spat back even as she assumed an offensive stance. "I don't know how you found this place, but you won't be walking out of here—or walking ever again."

Hmm, those were his words…

She came at him first. Her strides were even, not a missed step made. The moment she was within striking distance, she leaped from the ground, swinging a kick at the left side of his head. Immediately, Batman blocked the blow with his forearm, his other arm drawn back. He countered with his fist, landing his blow against her stomach. She dropped back to the floor, stumbling as she tried to get her feet under her, gasping for air. Bringing his arm back, he kept it across his body and lunged forward, keeping his elbow jutted out to ram it against her face.

Despite her weakened stance, her hands shot up and caught his elbow, one hand on his tricep, the other on his forearm. Suddenly, he felt one of her feet pressed down on his front leg, on top of the thigh, the woman rising up just before the toe of her other foot slammed right into his chin. His head snapped backwards as he stumbled back a few steps, though he had the perfect view of his opponent completing a flip in midair, falling back to land on her feet.

Shaking off the blow, he made sure he had sure-footing just as his foe came charging at him again. Her first strike was aimed right for his solar plexus, a fist he caught with his own hand, fingers wrapping around it to keep it there. For some reason, he felt he knew what was coming next: an uppercut to his chin.

His premonition came true as he saw the blow coming, the woman's curling her fingers inward, palm jutting out. With his free arm, he blocked it, pushing it to aside and leaving a wide open strike zone. Quickly, he leaned forward, lunging headfirst to land a headbutt.

Except, for whatever reason, the red-haired woman backed off. She even managed to yank her own hand back out of his grasp. It was almost as if she had expected him to do that. Then right before him she jumped into the air, spinning around before she lashed out with her foot, her spinning kick nailing him right in the side of the head. Again, his head jerked to a side, but this time he allowed that unintended momentum to put some distance between them, spinning his body in the same direction as his head was going. By the time he was turned around, he saw the woman charging at him again, leaping up to do another flying side kick. It was even to the same side as her opening kick.

And again, he blocked it, only to realize it was a feint a moment later. The second her shin collided with his arm, her body continued to spin. The next blow she inflicted on him nailed him in the back of his head, sending him stumbling forward.

Alright, that was enough. Reaching to his belt, he pulled out a couple of shuriken, one in each hand. Forcing himself to twist around, he sent the projectiles flying. He had expected the woman to press her advantage, which she had, running right at him. His shuriken, however, made her drop to her knees, leaning back as far as she could to avoid them from cutting into her, the projectiles whirling over her harmlessly.

Which left her wide open as he planted one foot on the ground and raised the other one up. He snapped his foot out, the bottom of his boot slamming right into her face as she leaned forward. This bent her completely back onto her back while she continued to slide against the cave's ground, going under his upraised leg.

Bringing his leg down, Batman turned around, just in time to see the redhead coming to a stop. Though her legs had been at an awkward angle due to the position he had forced her into, she was either unaffected by it, or was ignoring the strain. Either way, she somehow moved her legs out from beneath her, flung them up above her before swinging them back down. Her back then arched, lifting her body off the floor. Within a second, she was back on her feet and glaring him down.

She was good, whoever she was. Whatever her reason for wearing the Bat symbol, she had definitely earned the right to. She was in control of this fight, leading him wherever she wanted him to go. True she had taken her lumps, but that was the price she was willing to pay to land harder blows against him.

Alright, he needed to change things up. Shifting his shoulders, he allowed his cape to envelop his body, hiding it from sight. Reaching to his belt, his hand slightly grazed the inside of his cape, the moment catching his opponent's attention if the slight tilt of her head was any indication. So, she was good at reading body language too.

This time, he went on the offensive, keeping his arms at his sides as his cape clung to his body. At the last second, he rolled his shoulders, causing his cape to lose its hold and slide behind him. His right fist flew at his opponent's face, the woman blocking it with both arms, one taking the brunt of the blow while the other pressed on the opposite side to steady it. Using his momentum, Batman lashed out with a kick, aiming to hit her against her side. She leapt backwards to avoid it, which caused him to go into a spin, kicking out with his other leg at the right moment. She dodged this one as well, backing up a step.

Again, he went at her with his right fist, always keeping his left at his side. The entire time, the red-haired woman kept her attention on that fist, blocking or evading his blows, but never losing sight of it. She knew there was something with that fist and was waiting for him to unleash it.

So he did. Throwing his hand out to a side, he watched as her head followed the hand, only for him to spread his fingers out and reveal nothing within his grasp. The surprise that appeared on her face was momentary as he finally slammed his other fist against the side of her face. She was thrown off her feet, careening through the air until she hit the ground; yet, in spite of the blow, she went into a roll, ending up crouched on her feet.

"Stop!" she suddenly cried out.

Batman held his position, but he didn't drop his guard. She was up to something.

Slowly, she held her hands out in front of her, one high and fully extended, making a stop gesture with that hand. The other was lower and closer to her body, but she kept it there in plain sight for him. Cautiously, she rose to stand at full height. "It's you," she murmured softly, before speaking louder, "it's really you."

"Mind telling me what you're talking about?" Batman suggested.

"You're Bruce Wayne."

A cold chill ran up and down his spine. How did she know that name? How could she know that it was his? Alternate dimension be damned, there was no way she could know that name and all that it meant to him. "Sorry, I think you've got me mistaken for someone else," he said lowly.

"You mean you don't…" she trailed off before a small, sad smile appeared on her face, shaking her head as if to gently reprimand herself. "Of course you don't. It's been too long."

This was starting to irritate him. She was sure she knew him, regardless of any protest he could've made. Yet, he didn't even know who she was. He was going to have to make her fess up and she would.

Without prompting, she moved her arms again, this time placing them on either side of her mask. Carefully, she pulled her mask up, along with her mane of red hair. Once she lowered it to hold in front of her, Batman saw her real face.

She had shoulder-length black hair, quite straight and unremarkable. Her face was that of a woman, neither young nor old. Her eyes were slightly slanted, indicating some Asian descent. Oddly enough, there were two faded dots on her forehead, though he wasn't sure what their meaning was.

However, throw all of those characteristics together and he knew who she was. It was like he took a sledgehammer to the stomach the moment he realized it. He dropped his stance as his mouth opened slightly from surprise.

"Cassandra?"

A few quick notes I'd like to share with y'all. For those of you familiar with the Injustice comics and games, I think you'll recognize the nightmare line. It's quite fitting for this story. Also, Ollie's thoughts on the longest arrow distance comes from the Injustice comic too, right before Superman pounded his face into paste. I'm not sure what the real record is, but I figured the comic knew.

Batwoman's batarangs, for the record, are the ones Terry McGinnis uses in Batman Beyond. I figured that with all the updates to the world and people, why not the batarangs?

And lastly, I incorporated elements of Batman and Cassandra Cain's fight from their first one in Rise of the Fifty Daggers, specifically tactics and fighting combos. I'll leave it to y'all to figure out which elements those are.

To Guest: Well, as one other reviewer has mentioned, the one weak spot the Justice League has is a man with a plan. Pretty sure most of my JL stories use that as the central threat lol