Bruce sat at the head of the long dining table in the cavernous dining room, a steak and mashed potatoes with assorted vegetables coated in gravy sat in front of him. At the far end of the table, Alfred was sat with his own plate, slowly cutting into his own steak. The silence between the two men was palpable. Only the scratching of utensils against the china plates and the crackling of the fireplace.

"How's the steak?" Bruce finally spoke up as he took a bite of mashed potatoes.

"Tender. You've got a decent cook." Alfred replied, pausing "Better than the mess I'd make."

Bruce half smiled at the attempt to alleviate the tension. They both knew Alfred was a half decent cook, and he certainly could manage a steak. Albeit one that would be somewhat more overdone than Bruce liked it.

"So, you said you were going to tell me what you're working on." Alfred said, popping a sliver of steak into his mouth "Have at it, lad."

"Straight to business." Bruce noted with a nod "Always good."

He picked up the glass of water in front of him, taking a sip through pursed lips before setting it down again. He pushed the plate forward slightly before setting his hands down on the table, clasped together.

"My Father wanted me to help this city, to give back. It was always very important to both him and my Mother." Bruce began "I can throw money at this city all I want, but it won't help it. It would be like applying a band aid to terminal cancer. Pointless. Hell, with how deep rooted corruption is in the GCPD and the Mayor's office as it stands, it'd probably make things worse."

"Your parents never just tried throwing money at the problem, as you so eloquently put it." Alfred replied "They did philanthropic work. Helped those who couldn't help themselves. Is that your plan, Bruce?"

"In a manner of speaking." Bruce replied, pausing "Ever since that night all those years ago, I've had this… This anger. This rage. Even after all the counselling sessions, it was still there. It is still there."

"So you've got a temper." Alfred said, grimacing "Most people who saw their parents gunned down in front of them when they were nine years old would."

"Yeah, but what if I could channel that. Use it for the better." Bruce said, standing up "I've got resources, I've travelled, I've trained, I can go places law enforcement can't, do things they won't. I can make sure what happened to me doesn't happen to anyone else."

"Bruce…" Alfred began "You may have inherited a lot of money, power and influence from your parents… But you're not God, lad."

Bruce stood there, taking in the older man's words. He knew Alfred was right. Ever since he was a boy, it had annoyed him how Alfred always seemed to be right. Yet now, stood there, he recognised something he'd never seen before.

"You know, I hadn't realised how much I've missed having you here to put me in my place. It's something no one else has ever dared do. Too intimidated, worried I'd fire them or ruin their lives as I had the one of the man who'd raised me. They were afraid of me, Alfred." Bruce spoke up "If I can instil that kind of fear as a spoilt rich kid… What could I do as something more?"

"What are you saying?" Alfred asked, surprised at the level of self awareness in Bruce's statement "What are you going to do?"

"What are we going to do." Bruce replied "I told you, I can't do this without you. Which means I need to show you my project."

"Project?" Alfred cocked an eyebrow "What are you working on, lad?"

"Come with me and I'll show you." Bruce said with a wry smirk "I'll show you everything."

He began to lead the older man out of the room, leading him through to the study. As they reached the room, he approached the backwall where a grandfather clock was stood against the wall, but there was something off. No sign of dust, implying regular maintenance, and yet the clock had stopped.

Bruce stepped up to the clock, opening the glass covering the face and began rotating the hands, setting them to 10:48. There was a soft click as he did, before he closed the clock face, pulling down the pendulum on the clock. There was a low groan and rumble as it slowly slid backwards, before disappearing inside the wall, leaving a hole large enough for a man to walk through.

"Back when the house was built, my great great grandfather was involved in the underground railroad, as I'm sure my Father told you." Bruce said, gesturing for Alfred to follow him as he stepped inside the opening, leading him into a cavern with a stone spiral staircase descending into the dimly lit chamber below "I found some old blueprints for the house years ago, before I went travelling. Studied them during the nights. Near as I can tell, this was how he did it. How he managed to hide those slaves. How Darius Wayne made a difference."

"What is it?" Alfred asked as they reached an old elevator, which Bruce opened for them by hand "Some kind of tunnel network?"

"It's a cave." Bruce replied as the elevator began to descend, the old mechanism audibly straining, it's screech blending in with the screeches of bats in the cavern above "I came back a few times over the years, did some work on this place. It's still a work in progress, but this is where I'll do it from. This is where I'm going to take that anger, that rage, and use it to save Gotham from itself."

Alfred looked on as they descended into the cavern below, lights slowly bursting into life around the chamber, revealing a number of stone platforms re-enforced with metal struts, a large waterfall visible on the back wall. The platforms had metal chambers dotted around them, a large collection of screens connected to a keyboard and various pieces of computing equipment at the base of the stairs, beside what looked like a metal trap door. Off to the side, attached to what looked like a stone road going through the waterfall, was a circular platform, a large circular door in the middle of it.

"How long have you been working on this?" Alfred asked, taking in the chamber "This isn't a couple of weeks work, lad."

"Started when I was 19, before I went travelling. While I was still in college." Bruce said, moving to the computer monitors and pressing a few commands before looking into a camera, the screens unlocking "It's been worked on to various degrees over the last 11 years, mostly when I was back. I had some help with the technical and mechanical aspects. Fox and I designed it, and as far as contractors were concerned, it was to be a bunker in the event of the lawlessness Gotham is known for ever got too extreme. One I apparently gave up on."

"And what's under there?" Alfred nodded to the metal door in the floor, Bruce pressing a few commands as the doors opened, a large metal cylinder with a black circle in the middle of the front rising from it "Compensating, Mr. Wayne?"

"For what?" Bruce questioned, cocking an eyebrow as he moved towards the cylinder, placing his hand on the circle, a blue light slowly scanning it before a seam slowly appeared with a hiss in the front, the front panel separating and rotating with a hiss "Take a look."

Bruce stepped aside, allowing Alfred to look on. Inside the cylinder was a large dark grey body suit. Under the fabric, a number of metal inlays were visible. A gunmetal grey belt with various sized pouches and compartments was on the waist, while a pair of metal combat boots and gauntlets were attached, a series of mechanized blades attached to the forearms of the gauntlets. A long black cloak was attached to the shoulders with a pair of black clasps at the base of a black armoured cowl, a pair of large, sharp points on top of the cowl. In the centre of the chest was a large, metal stencil in the shape of a bat. Alfred looked at the armoured suit, before looking to Bruce.

"Taking Halloween a bit far, aren't we?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"When I was a boy, I feel in a well. When I attempted to climb out, there was a sound. A screeching. Then they came. The bats." Bruce replied, looking at the suit "They frightened me… Frighten me. When I was travelling, I learned the criminals are a superstitious and cowardly sort. If bats frighten me… I'll make my enemies share my dread."

"Your enemies?" Alfred asked "You make it sound like you're planning a war, lad."

"I am. That's why I need you." Bruce replied with a nod "You've been to war, you know what it's like, what to do. How to avoid casualties."

"That's not always a luxury you have in war." Alfred grimaced "Sometimes you're forced to choose the lesser of two evils."

"Another reason I need you." Bruce nodded again "I need your guidance, Alfred. To help me make those decisions."

Alfred paused. He didn't need to ask why Bruce wanted to do this. He knew. Years ago, after his parents were killed, he'd said about how he wouldn't wish what he was feeling on anyone. This was his attempt to try and make sure that would never happen to anyone else. Alfred knew there was no sense trying to talk the boy out of it. He'd always been pig headed, just like his Father and just like Alfred.

"I'll help you." Alfred said "On one condition."

"Name it." Bruce replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Your parents wouldn't want you to spend all your money on this and to let the city think Bruce Wayne does nothing to help himself." Alfred noted "I'll help you fight this war on this front, but if I do, I help you fight it on that one too. I help you fight it as Bruce Wayne and not just this… Wait, what are you even planning to call yourself? Or are you just going to let them refer to you as some kind of Bat-Man?"

"You know what…" Bruce half smirked "That's not half bad…"