Chapter 1

It was another night in Gotham City, and all was quiet. Almost too quiet. Lightning flashed across the skies of Gotham, cutting through the air like a knife. The lightning brightened up the silent darkness of Gotham City for a moment, revealing a muscular, black suited man. He was dressed in a black cloak, a pointed cowl hiding his face and the symbol of a bat on his chest. Batman crouched on the roof of a building, surveying the city with his binoculars. His city. Billionaire owner of Wayne Enterprises by day, Bruce Wayne wandered the rooftops and alleyways by night as Batman, the Dark Knight, self-proclaimed defender of Gotham.

Gotham City, for some reason, had always seemed to attract the worst of the criminals, the vilest of creatures. Psychotic freaks came and went, usually chased away or captured by Batman. For this reason alone, Batman knew he was more than ever needed in this city. Orphaned at a young age, Batman knew the meaning of pain. He remembered that pain, and would do all in his power to stop anyone from knowing that pain.

From his rooftop, Batman spied a mugging in the distance. Taking a running jump from the roof, Batman dropped into a freefall, using his cloak to slow his descent. When he neared the ground, Batman released his grappling hook, which wrapped around the top of a lamppost. Swinging a full round, Batman slammed feet first into the back of the mugger. The surprised thug was sent sprawling a few feet, hitting his head hard on the concrete sidewalk. The man rose to his feet, drawing a gun from his jacket. Before the man could even aim it at Batman, a batarang had knocked it out of his hand. The pistol flew away from the mugger's grasp, landing with a clang on the ground, broken and useless. The thug grabbed a knife that was tied to his leg and charged at Batman, swinging his weapon amateurishly.

When the man came within range, Batman effortlessly dodged the knife strike, strafing to the left. The Dark Knight grabbed the mugger's hand twisted it, making him drop the knife and almost dislocating his wrist.

Giving a cry of pain, the criminal threw a punch at Batman. Catching the punch in his left hand, Batman countered with a swift right hook, followed by an equally fast left hook and finished him off with a side kick to the jaw. The man dropped to the pavement, out cold. Slapping on a pair of handcuffs on the man, Batman looked to the woman to see if she was all right.

"Thank you, Batman." the woman who was being mugged said, gratefully. Batman just nodded his acknowledgement of the gratitude, and shot his grappling hook again, leaping back into the darkness.


It had been a long night, and Batman had already stopped a mugging, bank robbery and a rape. It was time for rest, and Batman's body was not as young as it used to be. Jumping of the roof and into an alleyway, Batman disappeared into the shadows and reappeared in his Batcave moments later. As he sat down in his chair in front of his huge computer, Oracle, the ex-Batgirl, appeared on the screen.

"Batman! We have an emergency!"

With those words, Batman immediately sat up, the fatigue already starting to fade away from his body.

"What's the problem, Oracle?" Batman asked.

"There has been a shootout at one of the Umbrella branches. It looks pretty serious" she replied. "I'm sending over some pictures of the crime scene..." Within moments, pictures of the crime scene were displayed on Batman's computer. Corpses were strewn all over the office, tables smashed, lights broken. The equipment on the corpses were no standard issue guns or armor either. These dead guards were not your average policemen. They were trained professionals, probably the best of the best. The way the corpses were laying it looked as if they were attacking one man, who had fought his way through the large numbers. Evidence of one thing: Metahuman activity.

"I'm on my way, Oracle. Research all you can on the Umbrella Inc. The last I heard they were researching something about Super soldiers."

"I'm on it. Oracle, out!" Oracle replied. The beautiful face of Barbara Gordon shrunk rapidly to the middle of the screen, and then vanished into blackness.

Batman had always suspected that the Umbrella Corporation was up to no good. But that was not his concern. If anything, the JLA would handle it. They had not done anything to Gotham City. Up till now. And they would pay. Batman started up the Batmobile, and headed towards the Umbrella branch office at full speed

"Bruce!" a familiar voice said into his headset. Nightwing.

"I have no time now, Dick. Gotham City is in the middle of a crisis." Batman interrupted bluntly. Richard Dick Grayson, aka Nightwing. He was Batman's first disciple, the first Boy Wonder, the first ever Robin. Batman was proud of the kid, even if they did have some differences. Now taking care of his own city of Bludhaven, Batman knew that Nightwing was one of the best.  A teenager able to take down metahumans, freaks and biologically enhanced creatures while possessing no special powers himself was not someone you could bump into on the street. Batman trained Dick himself, and there was no one he loved more in this world.

"I am in Gotham City, Bruce. All the Umbrella branches in Bludhaven have been destroyed, and I have traced the perpetrator down to Gotham city. I don't think you will be able to take him down alone." Batman always prided himself in not needing a sidekick. Tim Drake, the current Robin, had proved him wrong. One too many times, Batman was forced to grudgingly admit.

"No, Dick. Gotham is my city, and I'll take care of it."

"Bruce, I believe by now you have seen the destruction this being can do. Trust me, you could do with help." Nightwing said, the frustration obvious in his voice.

"All right, Nightwing. I'm heading down to the Umbrella Corporation branch office now. Meet you there." Batman said, as he turned a corner.

"Roger that." Nightwing signed out, and speeded up his own vehicle.