The large moon sits above the clouds as a loud crash of thunder echoes in the sky, silencing the loud and impactful sound of a gunshot in an alleyway. There, a young child sits on his knees with his eyes in shock; before him sits the deceased bodies of a man and woman with blood leaking from gunshot wounds. The boy's name is Bruce Wayne, and the bodies are Thomas and Martha Wayne, his now deceased parents. As the flashing red and blue lights arrived, the light in Bruce's eyes had now died, and his once youthful blue eyes were dull and filled with sorrow.

{GOTHAM CITY. PRESENT DAY}

'Fall. A true changing of the seasons as the cold of winter chases away the warmth of the summer. Many find this time a true joy, Halloween sits on the horizon, and Christmas is just beyond that. To the children, it's nothing more than a reminder that the summertime is over, as is their freedom and fun.'

The cold rain drenched Gotham City's rooftops, the gothic towers suffocating beneath their neon lights and shadows. In Gotham Center Plaza, a party rages on as the people of Gotham cheer on and laugh together among the booming sounds of a band's concert. But high above the stone-built nightmare of a suburban jungle, a hulking figure in an all-white cloak sits perched beside a gargoyle. Beside it, a giant neon billboard displays the news causing it to turn its head slowly.

"And in other news, another body has been found by the Gotham City Police Department. Like others, the victim was left with large gashes on their torso and neck. At the moment, Detective James Gordon and the officers of GCPD Special Crimes have given no words as to the identity of things string of murders. However, the lack of information has stirred up rumors among Gothamites. Many call this the work of the infamous vigilante known as The Bat."

The creature growls, watching as the screen shows a strange black and white sketch of a black-clad figure with white eyes and pointed ears. It hisses before leaping upwards into the night sky, soaring above the crowd of people below enjoying the holiday season.

"In other news, Santa Claus came early this year. The Wayne Foundation has promised to donate several thousand dollars worth of toys to St. Gunn's Children's Hospital. When asked about this charitable donation, Wayne Chairman Roland Dagget had this to say."

"Like my close friend Bruce Wayne, the Daggets owe much to Gotham City. It's been our home for generations and will be the home for countless others. If we can make their Christmas a bit brighter, well, we've done our job, haven't we?"

'But there is always darkness, even in the brightest corners and people. We all have monsters, skeletons in our closets, as they say. Some are greater than others at times.'

In the alleyways below, a motorcyclist clad in black leather watches the monster soaring above in silence. His face is hidden beneath a black helmet, with only his dull blue eyes visible to the everyday person. He focuses on the flying monster and starts up his bike. To the untrained eye, the machine resembles a Zero SR motorbike in all black, perfect for being somewhat forgettable; he revs up his engine and takes off into the city.

'Like Gotham itself, we all hide behind our individual masks of joy and stability. But in truth, we are all hurt and distorted by the world around us. My father told me that Gotham was a city of possibilities and life as a child. Our family owed much to this place; we should protect it like it's done for us. That was before he and my mother received a bullet to the heads, leaving them dead in the gutter.'

The creature lands atop a ledge overlooking a nearby apartment complex, its eyes darting as it scopes out at the people below. Its jaws are moist with saliva, and its stomach growls loudly in sheer hunger. It wants nothing more than to sink its teeth into the flesh of Gothamites, but it must strike when it's found the perfect prey. Isolated, alone, and ready to feast upon.

"Alright. I'll see you guys later." its ears perk up. It looks across the gap and finds a man leaving the apartment building with a drunken smile plastered his face and his skeleton costume disheveled from hours of partying. The monster licked its lips and quickly vanished into the sky again, unaware of the motorcyclist turning into a different alleyway. The man continued down the alleyway, stumbling forward as the monstrous figure in white descended from the sky and snatched him from the streets before he could even react. The man would scream, but it's hard to be heard from several feet in the air.

'That night left me with many things, trauma, fear, but more than anything, it taught me a simple and finite lesson. No matter how bright you shine, you will always return to it. To the darkness that lies within, you can ignore it.'

The man falls to the ground, his body in pain from the sudden fall onto the cold concrete. He slowly rises from the floor to find himself in the dockyard near the harbor. The scent of the sea and rotten wood filled his nose, and an overwhelming stench of death emanated from the perched white figure that stared at his prey from the top of a streetlight.

"Arnold Flass…." It said, the words coming out in a spine-chilling tone of voice that caused the man to quickly rush to his feet. He tried to back away from the monster before him, only to hit a metal fence that kept him in place. The beast growled and continued to stare at Flass, chuckling as five men in all-black suits emerged from the shadows beneath him, with their faces obscured by skull masks. In the men's hands were several weapons, such as knives and blades, and one even carried an automatic rifle in his gloved hands.

"You've been hiding from us; you thought you could escape our agreement, did you?" Said the monster, slowly descending from its perch as if it were floating. As the monster's feet touched the ground, Flass cowered in fear as the skull-faced minions rushed him and pulled him up to his feet. The beast slowly approaches him, its arm revealed to the world as a hairy monstrosity with nails longer than an infant's body. As it chuckles, ready to skin his terrified captive, a loud bang erupts out from the shadows drawing the attention of all. The robed beast snorted, gesturing its head towards the noise, causing one masked goon to remove his blade and enter the shadowy corner. All that was heard were their screams before immediate silence, then a bright yellow light shone, and the loud echoing footsteps sent shivers down their spines.

'Or become that darkness.'

The light came from the waist of the tall black leather motorcyclist from earlier. The light covered the bottom half of his face in shadows but showed off his chiseled solid jaw, scars that ran down the sides of his face, and his eyes glowing a sinister white. Around his waist was a strange mechanism resembling a dark gray buckle with a glowing yellow core that shone brightly with a gray belt wrapped around his waist.

"Step away from the man and leave. I'll only say this once," he says. His scarred face in a fearsome expression as he clenched his gloved hands.

"Kill him." The robed creature commanded as he held his clawed right hand towards the interloper; with a flick of his wrist, his foot soldiers ran forward and attacked him all at once. The scarred man dodged their bladed swipes before countering their attacks by grabbing their arms and knocking them back with kicks and palm strikes. With every strike, his belt began to emit a strange pulsing noise that gradually grew louder and the light even brighter. The belt unleashed a powerful burst of energy and smoke that sent the masked attackers flying onto the floor. At the same time, the robed monster stumbled back several inches.

"I warned you." He said. The smoke dissipated and revealed the Rider's altered form, as he now stands wearing a combat suit. With gray metal plating on his torso sitting above a gray bodysuit with silver lines going through his body to the large black boots that ran up to his metallic black knee and shin pads. His forearms now held black metallic vambraces, with sharp blades emerging from the sides and black clawed gloves replaced his hands. His face was now a pitch black metallic cowl with curved points on the sides of his temples that resembled large bat ears. His mouth was now in a permanent scream, with gunmetal gray fangs and a black filter hiding all of his humanity. Around his neck was a tattered black scarf that was as dark as the night sky and reached down to his upper back. The finishing and eye-catching detail of this new form was the black metallic Bat that was etched across his chest.

"You. Who the hell are you?!" asked the monster with an angered snarl in his voice. The transformed man cracked his knuckles and slowly approached the beast as his foot soldiers quickly hurried to their feet and resumed their attack on the intruder. As one rushed over with a blade in hand, the mysterious Rider backhanded him to the ground. He followed it up with a powerful jab to the face, shattering the Skull helmet into pieces. The black Rider stays still before slowly looking up with his glowing white eye lenses at all before him.

"Bat-Rider." He rises, his fists clenched as he begins to slowly approach his targets. The two remaining bladed foot soldiers rushed him. Bat-Rider quickly blocked the first attack with his arm gauntlet. Followed by him grabbing them by the neck and tossing them into his ally as he turned his attention to the monster and the gun-wielding Skull mask-wearing goon. Shaking in fear, the shooter opened fire on Bat-Rider, but all the bullets did was spark against his armor and cause him to stumble briefly. "Bad idea." The black Rider growled and lunged at the shooter, grabbing the rifle's barrel and ripping it out of their gloved hands. He quickly slammed the butt of the weapon against the man's head, shattering their helmet and sending them to the floor unconscious as he broke the gun in half with his bare hands. Now nothing stands between the masked Rider and the monster whom he's targeted tonight.

"Stay back!" Well, nothing but the human shield, Arnold Flass, trapped in the monster's claws. Bat-Rider stared at them, silent as he clenched his gloved fists and locked eyes with the monster's beady reds. "I know you. They told me you were here; I can't believe it."

"So you do know me, good."

Before the monster could react, a silver bat-shaped dagger was trapped in its shoulder, causing it to screech in pain and release the Detective. Bat-Rider rushed forward and delivered a strong shoulder tackle to the monster knocking it into the side of a nearby shipping container.

The fight was brutal, with the Bat-themed hero striking his foe with precise and powerful punches before kicking him through the steel container with a powerful kick. But before he could follow his enemy, a powerful burst of air blasted the Rider in the chest, causing sparks. The cloaked monster growls and removes his cloak revealing his proper form. It is a giant humanoid bat monster with brown fur all over its body and a wingspan almost 8ft wide. The beast screeched and charged at the masked hero, who rolled out of the way and growled in frustration as the Man-Bat flew away.

"Not too fast!" he yelled. The Rider held out his wrist; with a faint sound of a click, a silver hook fired outwards and pierced the monster's foot, causing it to howl in pain. Attached to the clip was a metallic steel cable that pulled the black and gray Rider off the ground and tumbled with his target through Gotham's night skies. He grunted in pain underneath his helmet as the beast thrashed about, slamming him into nearby buildings and corners. Times like this made Bat-Rider appreciate his bionic and altered body; he retracts the steel cable and falls onto a nearby rooftop.

He rushes forward and grabs the end of his trench coat, the fabric expanding outwards, allowing him to glide across the night sky as he begins to close in on the Man-Bat. He stared at the sky above, watching the beast fall towards the ground as it appeared disoriented from Bat-Riders' previous attack. Once above the injured monster, Bat-Rider struck by dive-bombing the beast into a nearby neon sign above an industrial building. The masked Rider leaped off the monster with seconds to spare, allowing the beast to crash and scream in pain as electricity surged through its body. The monster fell to the ground, its body twitching in pain and smoke from its charred fur.

"This is the end," Bat-Rider growled and rushed forward, slamming his right foot into the monster's chest with a powerful sidekick that left a mighty crater against the wall.

"GAAAAAHHHHH!"

Man-Bat's body went limp and slowly turned gray before a powerful surge of smoke emerged from its body that blinded Bat-Rider. Once it cleared, all Bat-Rider found was an unconscious bald man slumped against the wall in tattered clothes. Bat-Rider exhales as he checks the man's pulse and sighs with relief. "He's alive, good." he pressed the button on the side of his helmet as a faint ringing followed. "Alfred, prep the laboratory. I'm bringing back something important."

He hung up his call and hoisted the unconscious man over his shoulder before leaping off the edge of the building where his motorcycle stood waiting for him in the alleyway. It was an impressive display of black metal and machinery, with fins strapped to the side of a powerful trio of exhaust pipes, the center being the largest of the three, and a prominent black metal bat symbol stretched above the handlebars and headlights. Once he started it up, it took off into the city street with a loud roar of an engine, his coat flapping in the cold Gotham wind as he sped through the busy streets.

EP.1- BAT-RIDER APPEARS! {UNKNOWN BUILDING, THE NARROWS}

Sunlight from the emerging day snuck through his drawn blinds and onto his closed eyelids; Alfred groaned as he arose from his bed to greet the morning. Despite being a man in his 40s, Alfred Pennyworth was anything but unhealthy and disciplined as he quickly dressed in a white shirt and bow tie with a black vest paired with his most acceptable slacks and dress shoes. He took a deep breath as he grabbed the white apron from the coat hanger beside his bedroom door and proceeded into the darkened hallways of his rather large place of residence to reach the elevators.

The apartment building was relatively small, containing only 10 floors with 10 rooms and ample space on the ground floor. But that wasn't what drew them to make this place their current residence. No, that would be what was living in the basement below. Alfred stopped at the ground floor kitchen as he made his way down. He began his daily ritual by brewing a pot of coffee for himself and blending a protein shake of various nutrients for his companion/ward.

Once it was done, he continued to descend into a strange cavernous garage-like space with the sounds of screeching bats only silenced by the faint rumblings of passing subway cars above. It had been converted into a workshop, including a high-powered computer console in the center of the room where he found his main person of interest sitting and staring at the screen. He grimaced as he recognized his attire as the same clothes he'd worn hours earlier, sans his mask, which sat on the console within reach of his gloved hand.

"Good morning, Master Bruce. Am I right to assume that last night was a rather productive one?" chided the Englishman as he exited the elevator. Sitting in the chair was a handsome young man who likely hadn't seen any signs of slumber in days. This was evident by the dark circles under his blue eyes and an unkempt mop of black hair from prolonged helmet use. This was the true face behind the mask, Bruce Wayne, who looked surprised by the appearance of his oldest friend and ally.

"Oh, Alfred. Are you back already? That was fast." he commented, his eyes glued to the monitor displaying two DNA sequences being analyzed via digital recreation. "I thought you were going to bed?" His voice was monotone, focused on the work at hand. Alfred sighed and placed the thermos of protein next to his master's gloved fist.

"I did, sir, eight hours ago. It's 10 AM, and you have a long day ahead of you, so I suggest you do the same. Master Elliot will be here soon to pick you up, so I suggest meeting him as bright-eyed Bruce Wayne." Alfred joked, taking a sip of his tea as Bruce chugged down his shake as they spoke. Bruce groaned, standing up from his chair, allowing Alfred to take his seat and look over his work. "Care to talk about your night?"

"Nothing that you don't already know. The creature is still asleep, but I pulled a blood sample and fingerprints. His name is Dr. Kirk Langstrom; he was a Zoologist studying at Gotham Heights University before he was reported as missing almost a month ago." Bruce hissed in pain as his transformed form faded in a faint flash of light and a surge of smoke. He was left in his clothes from the night before, sans his motorcycle helmet, and returned to Alfred's side, where he pulled up Dr. Langstrom's records on the monitor.

"Before that, he was sighted in Jamaica touring their cave systems. But after arriving back home, he reportedly called his wife Francine about getting into a cab and hasn't been seen since. At least until tonight, he was found shaking down Arnold Flass with other members of LAZARUS."

"Former GCPD? What the hell would LAZARUS want with him?" asked Alfred, his curiosity genuinely piqued.

"That's not the only question on my mind. I scanned the blood sample from Langstrom, and his DNA sequence appears normal, with no alterations. I don't know what LAZARUS did to him, but whatever it is, I need to find out sooner rather than later." Bruce removed his jacket and proceeded to the elevator out of the cave. "Langstrom is currently in the isolation chamber. I don't think moving him to a public hospital is safe until we can locate what caused his mutation last night or why he was targeting Flass. I'm going to Gotham Heights with Tommy, gonna see if I can find Francine and notice any past interactions of note."

"I'll monitor the room while I continue my activities. And what about Mr. Flass? I think he won't be as open with Mr. Wayne knocking at his door."

"You might be right, but if Bruce Wayne doesn't get an answer, I'll have to be more direct. Run against the sample to see what caused his transformation." Bruce said as the elevator left the garage. Alfred continued to drink his tea, looking at the DNA display before him and noticing a strange yet brief alteration as the sound of the bats above reacted to the elevator's gears movement.

"Huh. Well, that's bizarre."

{GOTHAM HEIGHTS UNIVERSITY, ZOOLOGY WING}

"I gotta say, Bruce, when you invited me out today. I didn't think it would be for a tour of your latest charity practice. Especially when you mentioned that animals would be involved." chided Thomas Elliot. Unlike Bruce, his face was bright and full of life; sporting a full head of red hair and bright emerald eyes, he drew the eyes of some female students and faculty walking past them. But Bruce was doing the same, if not more, as his hair combed and he donned a black unbuttoned suit jacket with matching slacks and shoes. His buttoned-up white shirt had the top collar unbuttoned, allowing all to get a good look at his trimmed collarbone. All to help sell the illusion and counter his friend, wearing a Gotham Knights tee-shirt with blue jeans and a pair of sneakers.

"I know, I know, trust me. I promise we can head out and hit the town later; I just wanted to get this out of the way first. Besides, it's not like you don't enjoy being back here. Think they still have our old motocross trophy on display?" he joked.

Tommy chuckled as they arrived at their destination, "I highly doubt it. They disbanded that team anyway after we graduated. Turns out no one wanted to beat our record on the track anyway."

Bruce smiled, knocking on the door to the lab as a young brunette in a bright blue pantsuit and white lab coat opened the door. Her lanyard and faculty ID stated her name and rank, Francine Langstrom Ph. D-Head of Chiropterologist. Her eyes were red and tired; she likely hadn't slept in a while, at least a month's worth lost since her husband's disappearance.

"Oh, Mr. Wayne. You're here early; I wasn't expecting you to bring a guest," Bruce noted her shy mannerisms. She was uncomfortable around them, understandable given his public reputation.

"Oh, don't worry, Dr. Langstrom, Dr. Elliot, here is just my ride for today. Tommy, how about you check if the old field is still on campus. I'll meet up with you once I'm done." Tommy rolled his eyes and leaned in to whisper into Bruce's ear.

"Listen, if you wanna be alone with beauty, just be honest. But you do see the item on that finger, right?" Bruce did notice but chose not to mention it until necessary or when they were alone. Tommy removed himself from Bruce's side and left to explore the campus, waving at the two as he went. "But I get it. I'll be waiting for you, Bruce. It was a pleasure meeting you, Dr. Langstrom."

Now alone, the two entered her office, which Bruce took the time to scan every inch of. It was a somewhat decent study, with two bookcases lined with research binders, past tomes of information regarding her field of study, and several photographs of her and her husband and their various travels. As she took a seat behind her desk, Bruce sat across from her and smiled his kind charity smile while making notes about her desk. Another picture of her and Kirk, happy times at the Grand Canyon, which Bruce could only stare at longingly as his mind briefly retreated to a distant memory. Briefly. He had a more important task as he returned to the physical world and locked eyes with Doctor Langstrom.

"Now, Mr. Wayne, I appreciate your generous offer of a donation to this wing. But, I must ask why of all things, you chose a subject that you have no connection to or prior notice of. Forgive me for being hesitant, but you must realize how strange this all appears."

"Ah yes, I recognize that my charity's decision is sudden, but I make it a habit to offer support wherever we decide it would be put to good use. You and your husband's work in the conservation of Bats in nature are truly astounding and well deserving of our company's funding." Now to drop the bomb and hopefully find what he was looking for. "I believe I asked to speak to both of you over the phone. I understand if he's busy, but I am curious as to why he couldn't be in attendance."

Francine's attitude considerably shifted, her body sank into her seat, and her face darkened at the mere mention of her husband. Obviously, it was a sore subject, but one that had to be discussed if he wanted to continue his investigation.

"Kirk is… he's been away. For a long time actually, I'm not sure when he's coming back even, but I do think he'd appreciate your offer, Mr. Wayne. I will need time to think about it, till then I suggest we end this meeting early. It's been a very long day."

"Mrs. Langstrom, I'm sorry if my actions have offended you in any-"

"Please, Mr. Wayne," she said, hastily standing up from her chair. Bruce perked up and noted the outburst. "I think this meeting is over, so would you please just… just leave my office. Also, it's Dr. Langstrom." Francine said while pointing to the door. Bruce sighed, standing up from his chair and following her hand to the exit of her office silently. Once it shut behind him, Bruce's expression shifted back to its natural state as he quickly dialed a phone number and walked away while waiting for them to answer.

"I take it your meeting went well, sir?" Alfred answered the other end.

"More or less, Francine Langstrom didn't give anything up. She clearly didn't enjoy any mention of her husband's disappearance. Still, I left behind a bug in her office to listen in. How are things on your end?"

"It's official; we need to hire someone else to manage the day operations because this morning left me struggling. I swear, people nowadays have no respect for the common person."

"Alfred. I'm paying you ten times more than the average butler; could you please be serious."

"I was being serious, sir. I'm strongly considering putting out an ad for extra help, especially since a certain someone refuses to get his hands dirty with regular work." Bruce just rolled his eyes at that response from his butler/confidant and continued walking till he noticed Tommy speeding down the old race track behind the school.

"I'll look into it. How's our house guest faring?"

"I did as you asked and tried to find a trigger for his alteration. But it didn't take long to find out what exactly it could be; when you left, the sample began to react strangely to the sounds of the Bats. So that leads me down the metaphorical rabbit hole. Apparently, the blood sample mutates when exposed to different sound waves/signals."

"Huh. So it's likely that this problem we have is activated remotely? Has anything worked so far?"

"So far, nothing has done the best job outside Bat screechings and sonar waves. I believe it could be a unique wavelength that causes the transformation, but I can't find it whatever it is."

"Keep looking into it. If anyone can find a common thread, it's you, Alfred. I Gotta go; Tommy's getting a bit showy. Keep me in touch, okay?"

"Will do, Master Bruce. And you should be happy to hear that Dr. Langstrom is still seemingly unconscious in his isolation chamber."

"Thanks, see you soon. I'll check in on our other problem after Tommy, and I head back." Bruce hung up the phone and smiled as he watched Tommy pull up to the finish line with a screeching halt. It would be wrong to say it out loud, but he knew he could finish faster if he had his bike.

{THAT NIGHT-ARNOLD FLASS' APARTMENT, OTISBURG}

The trip back from the hospital was a painful experience, the bill dealing the brunt of the damage to his wallet. When asked about it, he didn't give a report to anyone, much less that stick in the mud Gordon. He had too much pride to admit that he was attacked, much less that it was targeted at him. As he entered his front door, he failed to take notice of the open window in his kitchen, nor did he notice the glowing pair of white eyes watching him from the shadows.

"Took you long enough, Flass."

"What the?!"

Bat-Rider lunged at him from the shadows, covering his mouth while hoisting him by the neck and slamming him into the nearby kitchen cabinet. Flass' terrified brown eyes were met with Bat-Riders starch bright whites.

"You know who I am, Flass. You know what I can do. Now, tell me what I want to know," he said, his voice sending shivers down the ex-cops spine. The Rider slowly removed his gloved hand from Arnold's mouth to ensure he got the gist of his demands. Arnold Flass growled as his hand slowly reached for the gun in the back of his pants; it didn't go unnoticed as Bat-Rider grabbed his wrist and squeezed it tight. "You're not that fast, Flass."

With a quick toss, Flass was sent flying across the room into the bookstand in his living room. Flass fell to the ground alongside the magazines and DVDs on the bookshelf. He tried to stand only to feel the boot of the mysterious vigilante pressed against the side of his head with the other placed on his exposed left leg.

"Talk, Flass! I'm not a very patient man, so you better hurry or…." He pressed down his leg, and pain shot through the man's body from the Rider's immense leg strength. "Now! Why did that monster attack you? What do you know?"

"Screw you! You f$%kin' psychopath!" screamed Flass. Bat-Rider increased the pressure on his leg; he could feel it on the verge of breaking.

"Not the answer I was looking for! Answer me! What did you do, Flass? Why were they after you! TALK!"

"AAAAGGGGHHHH! I-I don't know!"

"Bull! Tell me the truth, or you'll be in a motor chair for the next three months!" Flass began to cry; tears from his eyes stained his brown dirt carpet. He was closer to cracking than his leg was to breaking. "Tell me!"

"O-Okay! OKAY! I'll talk! I'll talk! Bingo. Just don't hurt me!" Bat-Rider grabbed the man by the back and tossed him against the wall while holding him by the collar.

"Then talk!"

"I-It was back in my cop days; those guys in suits often would show up and hand me a wad of cash and a photograph. I nabbed the person in the photo, brought them to a place, and then I got the money and waited for the next one. That's it, I swear!"

"Kirk Langstrom! What does he have to do with this? Tell me!"

"I-I don't know who that is!" Arnold received another slam against the wall, breaking the drywall of his apartment.

"LIES! You kidnapped him, didn't you! DIDN'T YOU!"

"I DON'T KNOW! I NEVER KEPT TRACK OF THEM! I JUST GRABBED THEM AND TOOK THEM TO WHERE TO THE OLD ARKHAM BUILDING!"

Arkham? That's an interesting word. The Rider released the terrified Flass to fall to the ground with a loud thud. He was pinned down again by Bat-Rider's gloved hand to his face as he whispered in his ear.

"Go to Gordon, turn yourself in if you care about living. After all, they no longer see you as an asset, so you'll be safer behind bars than here. You have four hours, don't, and you'll see me again. And I won't be as gentle next time."

With that, the Rider vanished without a sound, leaving Flass alone and terrified. He scrambled to the nearest phone in his apartment and quickly dialed the number he dreaded.

"H-Hello. My name is Arnold Flass, and I'd like to report a crime, and I'd like to turn myself in."

{GCPD ROOFTOP, OLD GOTHAM}

The cold breeze rubbed against his cheeks, the cigarette in his mouth doing very little to warm up his lungs. He was grateful that there wasn't any rain this time, but the freezing winds certainly didn't help his current state of standing alone on a rooftop. He heard the faint sounds of a motorcycle, followed by fabric flowing against the wind and the heavy thud of his boots. He was here.

"Detective Gordon, I'm hoping Flass informed you of his misdeeds."

Jim Gordon smiled as he took the last drag of his cigarette, snuffing it on the ground as he turned to find the illusive Bat-Rider standing against the shadows. It wasn't long before he was hired to hunt down this mysterious figure, and now he's forced to work alongside him. Gotham was a terrifying place; it makes sense it would need an equally terrifying guardian.

"He did; I have Martinez and Bullock en route to his apartment to pick him up. But I feel you already knew that, didn't you?" He asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"I like to stay informed, Detective; he gave me a place when I gave him a visit. Arkham, as in the old Arkham Manor on the city's outskirts."

"Arkham Manor? That place has been abandoned for years. It's been marked for demolition by the city five times. Why there?"

"No one would expect a human trafficking ring to operate out of that place. It's too obvious and basically unlivable, at least on the outside."

"Christ. Okay, I'll process Flass when he gets here and try and see if he can give me anything detailed. I take it you're checking out Arkham Manor?"

The loud roar of a motorcycle engine was his only answer as he looked off the edge to find the noir-clad motorcyclist already speeding in that same direction. The trenchcoat-wearing Detective smirked as he heard the doors, the rooftop doors creak open as a young officer appeared surprised by Gordon.

"Oh, Detective Gordon. I didn't think you'd be up here alone; I thought I heard a voice."

"Nah, just me. Came out here for a smoke since I don't like doing that stuff in the office. C'mon, I need some coffee if I'm gonna process Flass before tomorrow morning."

The two retreated back into the precinct building, with Gordon stopping to look out over Gotham City and smirking before returning to his duties. It was going to be a long night, and he needed to be up early in the morning.

{ARKHAM MANOR, OUTSKIRTS OF GOTHAM}

His bike stopped on the gravel road leading to the front steps of the dilapidated Mansion, the Arkham house being a ghost of its former pristine self. It was built for the Arkham family in the 1800s. Still, it had long since been abandoned after Jeremiah Arkham died in the early 1900s after setting his house ablaze and then taking his own life. Since then, this house has become nothing but a symbol for the madness that Gotham could bring about in a person, which made even more sense as to why it was here they chose. Bruce debarked from his motorcycle, parked it at the base of the Mansion steps, and clenched his fists as he proceeded into the crumbling remains of the Arkham home.

As he stood in the empty halls of the building, his white eye lenses shined as he began to scan the building for any signs of structural weakness or a hidden pathway. The building was falling apart, the scent of dust and decay rubbing against his nose even behind the mask. The walls were covered with graffiti and cobwebs, with any decorations and paintings stripped years ago by the city or scalpers.

"Alfred. See anything yet?" he asked over his comms as his fingers ran against the grooves of the wall. He could feel it, something was here, and it would tell him about Kirk's condition. He stopped by a nearby window, where he could view the back garden of the Mansion being enveloped by an extensive fog. He could feel a sense of dread overtaking him, he knew he was being watched.

"Unfortunately, sir, nothing seems to be working on the sample you've given me. I've tried to recreate the reaction displayed from the screeching of the bats, but it's either too weak to be a factor or too fast for me to analyze it."

"Hmm. I uploaded footage from my helmet to the computer, trying to listen for unusual radio signals. Play them near the sample and see if we can get something."

Hidden in the blanket of fog, a pair of red eyes shined as they locked eyes with Bruce's and rushed forward with little hesitation. Shattering the remnants of the window frame and tackling the black Rider as it screeched out in anger. Bat-Rider growled, wrapped both arms around his attacker's waist, and, using his immense strength, tossed them overhead, freeing him from their attack. They both tumbled on the dirt-covered floors before coming to a halt and glaring at one another, red and meeting white.

"What the?!" It was impossible; standing before him was Man-Bat freed and more ferocious than ever as it spread its wings and charged forward. It grabbed the Rider's shoulders with the talons on its feet. Bat-Rider struggled, groaning as he felt the monster's claws dig into his shoulder blades, causing him to groan in pain. The two quickly took off and through the ceiling and the second floor as they entered the night sky. Their elevation increased and became more concerning as the Gotham lights slowly became dots to both figures.

"Die, Rider!" screeched the monster. Bat-Rider growled before reaching up and slashing at the monster's ankle with the three blades attached to his forearm. "GAAAHH!" It screamed in pain as it released him from its right claw, freeing his right side finally. He held out his palm and summoned his grapple launcher, firing a line downwards, hoping it attached to something sturdy.

"C'mon!" By either luck or fate, the hook found its place in the side of the Manor, causing it to tug sharply on both flying figures in the sky. Now held in place, Bat-Rider attacked the beast by twisting his body and landing a solid kick to the monster's face, finally freeing him. But now there was the more pressing issue of him free falling towards the ground with no means of a soft landing.

"RIDER!" screamed the Man-Bat as it began to dive bomb after his falling target. Bat-Rider looked at the monster, returning his grappling gun to his gauntlet as he placed both hands on the sides of his belt.

"TAKE THIS!" he yelled. The circle in the center of his belt began to emit a blinding flash of light. Man-Bat screamed in pain, covering its eyes as the sudden burst of light blinded it, allowing his foe to gain the upper hand. Recalling his grappling gun, he fired at the dazed beast before him, hooking its shoulder and pulling him closer. They both crashed through the weakened rooftop and back into the Manor. Once the smoke from impact cleared, Bat-Rider rolled off Man-Bat, revealing it underneath him in pain. It slowly stood back up, gripping its wounded shoulder as it hissed at the Rider in anger.

"Damn you! Damn you, RIDER!" It yelled in anger before racing towards the same hole in the ceiling they entered from. The Rider reacted quickly and chased after Man-Bat only to find it, and the mysterious fog was gone without a trace.

"Damnit." He clenched his fist and sighed, his transformation deactivating as he leaned against the wall from the pain of his injuries. After a few minutes to catch his breath, Bruce left the building and quickly dialed Alfred as he sped away on his motorcycle. Even being a Rider didn't prevent him from the pests of the damage.

"Master Bruce! Thank god you've called; I need to tell you something vital."

"I already know Alfred. Langstrom escaped again. I'm on my way to the garage now."

"Uhm, sir. I don't understand. Are you saying Doctor Langstrom escaped his chamber and attacked you tonight?"

"Yes, Alfred. Why are you asking the obvious?"

"Well, sir, maybe that's because Dr. Langstrom is sitting across from me and has been since he woke up ten minutes ago."

"What?!"

Things just got even more complicated.

Who is the mysterious Man-Bat #2? What do they want with one another and with Bat-Rider? Find out next time, Same Bat-Time! Same Bat-Channel!

NEXT TIME: BAT-RIDER EPISODE 2 CREATURE OF THE NIGHT!