~ The Opportunity ~
"Running a little late, Samantha, but I should be there in fifteen minutes," Bruce told his date, weaving through Gotham traffic in a small but luxurious car.
"I'm not a woman who likes being kept waiting, Bruce. But I'll make an exception for you."
"Well, then, I'll do everything in my power to make sure your patience is-" he trailed off, watching a car speed just to leap in front of him. Something wasn't right. "Hang on a minute, Sam."
"Is something wrong?"
Three more cars surrounded him.
"I'm not sure."
He tried swerving, even lightly tapping the other cars in warning.
"Bruce?" she asked, worried.
"I'll call you back." He hung up, focusing on out maneuvering the cars chasing him.
The car beside him revealed two people in owl masks. The cars on either side took turns ramming into him. When he had enough, he hit the brakes. The car behind him slowed in response, creating a gap. Before the other cars closed back in, he slipped out.
Before he made it far, he was slammed against the highway cement railing. He hit the brakes again, going to the car's other side.
It didn't work. Another car trapped him on his exposing side, and they both slammed into him. He hit the brakes again, and the cars ended up slamming into each other, with one spinning out of control.
Bruce accelerated, trying to escape. But when he hit a traffic delay, he spun the car around, facing the three remaining cars head on. He swerved passed the first two but collided with the third. The crash sent his smaller vehicle in the air.
He didn't have time to recover from the accident before the masked figures were yanking him out of his car. Two men dragged him to two other masked figures.
"What the hell is this?" he demanded.
"An opportunity." A needle jammed into his neck, and darkness took over. "And one you should be extremely grateful for."
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
Bruce didn't know how long he was out. When he came to, he was in a large room. Looking up, he saw rows of expressionless owl masks, each hiding it's owners features.
"Welcome, Mr. Wayne," the masked man in the white suit and black hood greeted. He was obviously the leader, his perch separated from the others.
"Not exactly a warm welcome."
"If we'd wanted you dead, you wouldn't be here now." Yes, because that was so comforting. Bruce forced himself to resist rolling his eyes.
Instead, he settled for: "Who are you?"
"The Grandmaster of the Court of Owls."
Bruce's eyes narrowed. "I would say the Court of Owls is merely a legend."
"A legend we are, but one rooted in fact. There was a time when the Court of Owls stood behind every wall, in every shadow. We whispered and Gotham trembled. Not a leaf fell without our permission: a golden age."
"But all golden ages end."
"A faction rose against us that even our talons couldn't stop. We were forced to retreat, but we never surrendered. And now-"
"You're back. Why?"
"Because we care, Mr. Wayne. Just as our fathers and grandfathers and great-grandfathers cared. We are, and always have been, the sons and daughters of Gotham's wealthiest. We know far better than the rabble what's best for our city."
"In other words, you want to control Gotham," Bruce summed.
"How else to restore a city that's spiraled into chaos? That's become a cesspool, a charnel house? A magnet for freaks, lunatics and delusional vigilantes? We have a vision of Gotham's future, Mr. Wayne. And so, we understand, do you." The overhead lights dimmed as a new light took over. His model of Gotham- of what could be Gotham- rose before him, raising suspicion. He had only showed Samantha that. . . In the midst of his project, a pedestal holding a white owl mask rose. "We invite you to join your vision to the Court's. Together, we can raise Gotham City up and return her to glory."
Bruce picked up the mask, inspecting the expressionless and artificial face.
"That deluded vigilante? He's somewhat territorial about this city. And not very fond of people like us. How do you plan on dealing with him?" Like us. A subtle hint he gravitated towards the Court. And the questioning. Couldn't seem too eager to join, that'd raise suspension. He also had to know if they knew of his later ego.
"He's being dealt with even as we speak," the Grandmaster assured.
They didn't. Good.
"I can't say I'm not intrigued by the offer. But I'd like some time to think it over." He put down the mask he had been offered, a tiny tracking device sticking to the edge. He didn't know where he was, but he'd find out soon enough.
"Of course, Mr. Wayne. But not too much time. Sleep well."
Bruce's face contorted, confused. As masked court members surrounded him, he realized what was about to happen. "Hey." He struggled, but did nothing to reveal himself, succumbing to the drug induced darkness. "Unh. Unh."
When he awoke, him and his wrecked car were sitting just outside the fence of Wayne Manor. He pulled out the his phone, taking note of the red tiny on the map of Gotham City.
He had them.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
Sparrow and Robin were at another standoff. Talia, hand on hip, stood before them.
"I won't give you another chance," Talia spoke matter-of-factly.
"Our answer is still no," Sparrow repeated.
Talia turned slightly, directly at her youngest. "Damian?" And the boy was torn. His loved his mother, and she paid much attention to him. His mother and grandfather devoted years to him, training him to lead the world. They got him only the best, made sure he was the most powerful him he could be.
But Daire loved him. He knew his mother loved him, too, but Daire's love was different. She held a kindness towards him. She didn't have such high or stressful standards for him. She still expected much, but from a different aspect. She expected his safety and happiness. She wanted him to be himself, no matter how disgraceful or murderous he was. Now, he knew she would like him to be kind, but she didn't demand it. She demanded nothing from him. She just loved him.
He kept his expression neutral, knowing who's side he stood by.
"Make him great," his mother had told his father. Not take care of him, not be kind, not be patient. Make him great. Daire didn't- wouldn't- have said that. To her, he was great, regardless of his achievements. He was naturally talented, intelligent, and thoughtful. She loved the instinctual qualities he had.
And Daire didn't lie to him. She gave it to him straight, no matter what. Even if she disagreed with him, she respected his decisions.
And his father. His stubborn, thick- headed, unwavering, arrogant father. He hadn't received his approval yet. And with the high pedestal he held his father at, his heart yearned for it.
An assassin leapt into the roof, face covered and sword strapped to his waist. The assassin spoke softly into Talia's ear. Both pairs of ears strained to hear what they could.
"It's all done... tech acquired... he's ready... information gathered... in place..." and more they couldn't catch.
Talia nodded, then gave Damian another look. "Damian?"
"No," he finalized.
Her eyes narrowed but took his word. She spun on her heels, disappearing into the Gotham night.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
"I sense a resistance in Wayne, Grandmaster," a court member expressed his concern. "He could present a problem, as his forebears did."
However, the Grandmaster didn't share his worries. "No. He plays to the crowds with his bleeding heart and grand gestures. But it's all spectacle and ego. At his core, Bruce Wayne is one of us."
"I hope you're right."
"In my experience, the Grandmaster is rarely wrong," Talon inputted.
Doors revealing a room of coffins opened, and the Grandmaster led them all forward.
"Your confidence touches me, Talon. How is it going with the boy?"
"He's taken the bait." They stood in the middle of the room, where the floor lowered to a secret lab. Generations of Talons floated in their containers. Their bodies preserved in the liquid. "Him and his sister."
"Sister?"
"The new vigilante, Sparrow."
"I see."
"And your work here?" Talon asked, politely.
"Progressing." As the floor settled, an alarm went off. The temperature in the capsules were dropping. "Bring that setting up. Too cold and they'll shatter like glass."
"Yes, Grandmaster." Quickly, the tech did as he was told. The alarm shut off. "Just imagine. Some of these warriors are over a hundred years old. I envy them; their immortality."
"Envy?" Talon repeated. "You saw what happened to the talons at the museum."
"They survived outside the caskets for more than eight hours. The group before that lasted only three," the worrying member pointed out.
"And by studying our failures, we've refined the resurrection process. These men will be able to live for a full day before returning for regeneration."
"Immortality. But only twenty-four hours at a time," Talon reworded.
"It certainly beats the alternative."
"And when these indestructible warriors rise, you'll be their general and lead them in a war on Gotham that will reclaim this city for the Court."
"After I undergo the ritual that will make me like them?" he reminded.
"You'll die, yes, but you'll be reborn as something miraculous."
"One man's miracle is another man's damnation," he pointed out.
"We've trained you since you were a child- lifted you out of the gutter, and you dare to-"
"Not a soulless thing, Talon: a god. A great destiny awaits you. And I know you will willingly embrace it."
"If that's what the Grandmaster wants," Talon accepted, bowing.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
Mother doesn't care, Daire realized. Not about us, not about Damian.
"What are you doing?" a deep voice asked. It didn't frighten Daire. She had heard the clock move. She knew she wasn't alone.
"Thinking."
"About?"
"Mother," she admitted, coming across a file labeled The Mad Hatter. She had studied this villain recently, she remembered. She overheard her mother speaking with Heretic about someone named Jarvis recently, she remembered.
"...tech acquired..." she had heard that night.
She leaned forward, opening the file.
"What is it?" Bruce asked, noticing her sudden stiffness.
"Something I overheard Mother saying. It might be nothing."
"It's not nothing."
"Clever, detective."
"Tell me."
"When I finish, I promise I'll tell you all of it."
He huffed but let her be. "Don't stay up too late. You have school tomorrow." It wasn't really school. Just a few hours of training with Bruce then studying with Alfred. Any protests from Damian or Daire about lessons they already knew went ignored. If they wanted to go on patrol as Robin or Sparrow, they'd do what Alfred tasked them with.
"Ugh!" she protested, throwing herself back into the chair like a normal teenager. "Don't remind me!"
He couldn't help but smirk, returning up to the manor.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
Daire hadn't meant to spend half the night going through files and researching. Truly, she had planned to be finish her work before three in the morning. But time slipped away.
She was close but not close enough. Jarvis Tech was working with her mother, Daire knew that, but why? With his skills, it couldn't be good.
"Join me or die," Mother had said.
By the time Daire had made her decision, the tips of the sky were blurring into a pinkish orange, calling out the coming of dawn. She didn't have much time. Luckily, she didn't need much time.
She made her way through Gotham, knowing exactly where she was going.
She landed silently by the familiar figure, who was watching a few Leaguers pull off a train from the skylight. The lights dim, the shadows moved in unison, confident and swift.
"I knew you'd come."
"Heretic," she greeted in kind.
"Daire."
"Tell Mother I'm in. Tell her I'll make Grandfather proud, I'll do as she wishes, as long as she leaves Damian with his father."
"Tell me yourself, child."