A/N: After a long time of not actually doing this, I have finally decided to make a Justice League story focusing on the Batman and his compelling adventure. This story is apart of my expanding continuity.

So if you want to read my previous stories before reading this one, you can read the following stories:
* Oliver and Kara: Days Gone
* Kryptonian Invasion
* Hellish Forward
* The Storm in the Future
* Crisis on Earth-X
* Dark Supergirl's Striking Hour
* Presents and Futures Crossovers
* Kingdom Come
* Dark Supergirl: New Birth
* Left Behind
* Green Arrow: The Punisher

I think my new Justice League story focusing on the Batman would take take place right after the events of 'The Storm in the Future' as Batman was never seen again in any of the next few stories.

There are two stories I'm currently working on that is apart of this expanding continuity. They are another Justice League story that is unnamed and an ongoing 'Ben 10: The Beginning' story. A Code Lyoko finished story is also apart of this expanding continuity, but that takes place in a different future. You don't really need to know about the Code Lyoko and Ben 10 stories yet. Although if you are a fan of Ben 10, you cab try reading my ongoing Ben 10 story. And if you are a Code Lyoko fan, you can my finished Code Lyoko story. As for the unnamed Justice League story, it will be published as soon as I come up with a perfect name for it.

Anyway, if you are reading this story now, I hope you enjoy it. I'm not sure if the plot is good. This plot is inspired from Zack Snyder's Justice League movie showcasing a post-apocalyptic future, which was seen around the end of the 4-hour movie, the Epilogue. And also this story is inspired from 'Batman: The Last Knight on Earth' comic.

Year: 2020

Planet: Earth

The world's filled with the infinite altitude of the usual respective of light looming across globally. The endless matter, sometimes undergone the transformation of becoming darkness, spreads the light and eliminates despair, a dark twisted passion, compulsion of fear, and all other negative sorts, regardless of the major instances the world was forced to crumble beneath its levels, a shallow layer within the underworld, the hellscape. The glimmering pulsations become bitter and darker. The world itself is a paradox, the wrong route accounted, caused by the severe actions of every corrupted person that include men, women and even children, believing themselves to actually get away and think good men and women died before them without them to suffer any sort of consequence. Bestowed upon the sanctity guised as a horror-themed show, there never imparts hope for all the sentient species. It was their predestined ticket to soon suffer at the hands of one they were truly considering as more of a myth and costumed freak. Their miscalculations of how deadly this thing was what will hover over them, treating them like mice.

One moment, billions of civilians in the planet have finally found themselves peace following the destruction of the Hall of Justice, Mount Justice, even the Watchtower was destroyed. The Watchtower was razed to the ground by the United States Air Force, therefore permanently marking the end of the Justice League and the Young Justice. Comprehending the Justice League and Young Justice's termination has filled shiny bent-up smiles on everyone's faces these past few months. No one was as happy as they were than at times when they were relieved victory lights the skies.

The next moment, the sunlight instantly drops, making it seem the sun simply fell. The skies turned orange and red. Many of the people, whom notice it, wonder what's happening, contemplating on the sky's sudden change in colour. They've never seen a sky turning that darker of its colour. Of course there was sunset that closely resembles the state of what the skies currently show, except there's no sun, and the skies are more dimmer than the sunset's colour tone. Many citizens gather from different cities, looking up at the sky, unknown to them that it was set forth to launch a deadly assault. A red beam blasts from the sky, from everyone's point above all the cities in every country, continent. Those same red beams disseminate the clouds, speedily hitting on the lands, extinguishing itself to disintegrate the population like scrap required to be obliterated. All that's left behind is their mutilated, scorched body parts likely remained down to their fragile overcooked bones.

This was Earth's doomsday. The infliction causing genocide across all the nations of the billions dwelling marks the end of of the era of mankind, and its deliberate peace no longer fetched in their fingertips.

30 years later...

Earth is finally a dead planet. Barely any survivors are distinguished in the naked eyes on sight. Majority of the well-known populated amount have brutally and gruesomely been massacred. Still, regardless of the enormous apocalypse, man one eventually stand ups, laid on his feet in a bleak, post-apocalyptic world. The land is pervaded of sand, making it appear to be a dead world since skyscrapers, buildings, concerts, festivals, and all other things that a regular human would enjoy have been shattered. It scattered itself as malicious snippets, defining the age of dust.

He walks across the dune. His only path is drawn from the wind that renders his mind to lay eyes up over there. Step to step, he walks without grasping a single breath to take in. Step to step, he makes it past the debris and the signs that address the end of the world. Murals and statues are broken. His only ally is the wind that spiritually interacts with him via the man's senses sparked at high levels in the peak of communication. His warm feet flow across the surface of the sand, making all the way up to an abandoned shelter.

Once inside, he takes a chair, and subsequently sits on it. He breathes it all in, the merciless agony of all that dwells inside is processing to fly out of his mouth, thus replenishing everything that made him at his best peak of everything. His prowess and physical strength restored though the man still retains his current appearance. When he was outside, he could feel himself slowly slipping away from reality, slowly falling into facing a glimpse of death. The glimpse of that death rivals the countless ways this man would compare to the torture and pain he was thrown from various enemies he encountered, confronted and faced over the years when it was on him at a weakened state. In this circumstance, the man thought he was aging so quickly. He could experience it within himself, getting weaker and weaker by each timed set of 10 minutes. The further he walked, the more the process succeeds in occurring. The man rests that thought and feeling aside, focusing on his next stop.

After a few seconds of taking short second breaths, he pulls up a small device, subsequent to activating the device.

A big holographical map appears, floating above the device that veils it.

This man's dreadful eyes stare into the map, looking at how far he is before he has to put his feet on forward until he reaches his destination. Judging from the map, by walk, it would take days until he can make his way up there. Presently, he's a dry fish, struggling to move on ahead. He is no immortal, no god, no superhuman with gifted powers, he is distinguished seemingly as a human who shares the many weakness every human has been forced to grapple with. Although, there was one option that could help him stop, but should he wish to do it is on him. This current time, he doesn't intend to exchange all the energy he threw out for walking miles across the wasteland just to use something that will take him to his reach regardless of this whole wasteland being his own kryptonite. The figure takes the suicidal run. It didn't matter the distance.

The man resets his eyes at the same direction. He remembered marking a dot as a location where there was a refugee camp. He isn't too lenient to trusting, which thereupon he will use brutal tactics in spite of his condition at a bad place the more he relies on his human side.

Passing the dune, he walks, trailing footprints where each foot presses hard on it. Foot onto foot, he walks on and on. All he sees the same background like anything else, a familiar land piled of every rock. He must have passed a long way by now. In fact, time is sketchy in this year. Walking on and on, his direction is still far regardless of the distance closing. He detects no problems during his movement becoming frontwards. No strategy. No escape. No thinking. He rather does the old fashion way like most people situated in this kind, happening to be in a desert.

The next few minutes progressed, he makes no such progress in his route, though he does make one on timing. The creation of wasting everything just on a futile venture via walking on foot was never the afford. Imagining on wasting it down to his last breath, and still never reaches it will be the outcome. So much potential in living, yet he walks on and on. No melody inscribed inside his head. None of the peace elevates inside him.

The next few minutes, the man continues to walk forth his designated location. He isn't giving up, though the body is beginning to attempt on turning on him, dragging him, attempting to slow him down. He threw them all the drawbacks away. His superpower to never give up renders his body's refusal to relinquish and admit defeat in this pointless exercise.

The weak, benign sand storm flows past him. That strong wind consisted of the clouds of sand as matter, and the factors of sadness, depression, anger, and pressure. These are the types of sand storms existing in every part of the world on every fractured continent.

After hours of diving ahead that started once the man came out of the shelter to strive to his marked location, the man finally arrived at his location. This was distinguished when he first discerned a cliff, prompting him to run forward, ultimately perceiving an abandoned refugee camp. The man anticipated that his arrival would give on to seeing the state this camp is in: an abandoned camp in ruins as far as it can discerned. It never astonished him caused by viewing worldwide regions just either torn down or left to seemingly age in ruins since nothing would be kept tidy.

Seconds passed afterwards on the man observing the camp, he slides down the cliff, positioning his body where his feet is set down. His body forced to skim across the surface, falling in on front at a distance covering as far as he's travelling. The man is laid back, being very calm while sliding downwards. With seconds passing then, the man reaches down to the grounds below the cliff the man formerly stood on.

Since he alighted on that ground, the man proceeds to head to the refugee camp. His fiery treads traces across the sand, drawing further and further upon his target. His less-relaxed, focused demeanour doesn't pressurise the man. He walks ahead. Step onto step, his trail directly progresses, passing several shelters for the reason that the man senses that something he is searching for isn't in any of them. He needs to find this object, believing it to be the solution that would provide communication. He has no phone or a set transmission. His chance is acquiring the object that the man has perpetually been searching for.

A very short moment later, the man has wrapped eyes on majority of the shelters, still not finding the source. A source he intends to claim that will aid in pulling out a impractical prosperous path. The stakes are on whether he can find it. He walks metres up front. The surrounding shelters are more like a dream that repeatedly materialises every time the man continues to move at a regular pace. He moves on and on, no sight of the shelter the traveller can sense.

The man expends his time carelessly for the next few minutes, continuing to have his eyes brought about on front, directed, spreading the eyesight widely over the more shelters he crosses. Passing along those shelters, the man finally comes to a stop. Pausing his tracks, he turns his eyes directly on one shelter, feeling the source is in there. He didn't need his eyes to find that out when he appeared to be using a glimpse of something he is hiding.

The man steps closely on the shelter, broadly inspecting the shelter. He sees a picture latched on a pole like a head on a pike. It shows a drawn picture via pencil of a figure dressed in an armoured suit with strips running on his face. He had demonic eyes. His frontside, in that suit, appears to have stripes embedded on it, stripes of which appear to have this centred symbol of something the man doesn't know about. There are also stripes on his frontside legs. He seems to wear black stockings. The appearance of this drawn figure is hardly what the man could comprehend. It looked as though a child drew it out based off from a nightmare he or she couldn't escape from. The man didn't think kids would still be alive, although that wasn't his main focus. His main focus is getting that device.

Entering the shelter, he rustles up on the device he is looking for. He rolls his head on every direction, looking out for that device. Since setting forth the shelter, at the beginning, he can's seem to find it due to the shelter mounded with stuff really abandoned. In his sight, he captures on supplies. In this situation, supplies are the only things that matter depending on their usefulness and how much time can it help alleviate one's suffering for a duration regarding months and years.

Pushing his feet forward, one of the things he finds is guns, in which the man refuses to utilise guns, even in his case of dying slowly, and being aware of a horde of monsters enveloping the most parts of the world. He closes his distance on a small round table, half-broken, and unbalanced. He shortly inspects the table, prior to perceiving a small rectangular cuboid, coloured black, with a red button. The man elevates the device up to his eyes, in due course, pressing the button, thereafter activating it.

A small holographic screen pops up, projected from the device distinguished from a blue beam. It opens up a page, bobbing up as a newspaper.

The man didn't know there was a newspaper stored within this device. It wasn't what he was looking for, though he decides to skim the newspaper. He learns that this newspaper was published in the year 2020. It talks about a massive apocalypse. An Armageddon where the greater evil easily defeats and annihilates majority of the cities, and didn't stop as this devastation carried itself on, extending globally on all parts of the world. And it all took place a few months after the Justice League, the Young Justice, and the world's known hero died.

"So the news is true. The Justice League, Young Justice, and even Superman had all died... by innocent men, women and children", said the man. He clenches his fist tightly, angered by the revelation. "That's how it all began. Lex Luthor caused it all". He hammers the table down, instantly breaking it down. "That fucking bastard!". His so intent on killing that bald billionaire down. He doesn't care if it implied on breaking the one rule. Afar to this timing, he is pushed to his human limits. Less than a month, indication would come about on the man losing control of himself. Many times before, he faced and confronted Lex Luthor. Many times, he could've killed him or broke him down until his mind doesn't resonate to paralleling with Superman, thus leading to the two never becoming enemies, never a nemesis to one another. "If I had killed him before I sacrificed myself to destroy that kryptonite meteor, none of this would've happened". He drops to his knees, reflecting on the people he cared for. "Alfred, Dick, Barbara, Jason, Tim, Damian, Diana. I'm so sorry". Right after saying his apology, he covers his eyes, crying to himself.

The time passes on. He sat on his knees, detached from the real world as his head flickers in flashbacks from his earlier days. Times when Alfred was there for him, supporting him both as a butler and a father-figure. His mind of flashbacks processed on his team-ups with his subsequent sidekicks Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian, and remembering himself and Batgirl teaming up to save crime. He then proceeds to have flashbacks of the various times when he and Diana were making progress in their romance, which happened in a glimpse of it when the Dark Knight almost thought he lost her and did everything he could to try and save her, which Diana was aware of.

"No! I can't give up!", the man says to himself, clenching his fists. Absorbing every orb entering his hands to fuel his strength and spirit up high. "I never give up!". His flashbacks open up, allowing him to see it himself of the times he never gave up. The fear toxin that Scarecrow induced in him, which the man ultimately overcome his fears and beat Scarecrow. The time he remembered when Mad Hatter tried to coerce the man to give up using his machine to seduce him to admit giving up and let all the bad stuff go through without his involvement, in which the man eventually shatters his acceptance and goes head on with the Mad Hatter, and subsequently beating him. He even flashbacked on the time when Bane broke him mentally and physically, driving the man to a deeper situation where he felt lost as it was caused from his exhaustion for fighting and stubborn self-reliance, but later in time, he beat Bane with his wits because he never yielded to anyone. He slowly stands up, finally positioned at an upright stance. "I am vengeance, I am the night...". He twirls his body around, prepared to say the last part of his line to boost what he is. "...I am Batman!". Energy surging inside him begins to envelope him, thereby extending the output release more far until whatever is inside the shelter became wrapped in the intense glowing energy caused by the will of Batman. The will showing he never gives up. He was predestined to become this very driven force. Gotham City has Batman as it's protector. But the way Batman views himself as that protector of that city, it's remarked to be an avatar as there are more in Batman that meets the eye.