The Batmobile jumps as it hits the stones and potholes that litter the dirt road he's on in the middle of nowhere. He's following a hair-thin lead on an arson case, hoping beyond hope that this will be the lead that actually gives him something on whoever it is that keeps setting fire to Arkham. At this point, he's half convinced that it's an inside job with how little evidence is turning up.
He sighs, easing his grip on the steering wheel, and concentrates on the road.
A glimmer of brightness in the otherwise dark night sky catches his attention, and he frowns—it seems almost like it's moving. "Computer," he says, "pull up a list of meteorite warnings for Gotham."
Dutifully, it does as told. "There are no meteorite warnings for Gotham until late July," it intones. Bruce's frown grows deeper.
The meteorite—or whatever it is—definitely seems to be moving, now; and Bruce can see a small tail of flames behind it. It takes him a few moments to realise that it doesn't just seem to be getting closer—it actually is, heading straight for him.
As soon as he reaches this conclusion, he brings the Batmobile around in a sharp u-turn, the wheels screeching, and steps on the gas pedal, grimly calculating his chances of getting out of the impact zone.
A few moments later, the ground shakes, tossing the Batmobile into the air like a paperweight in the hands of an over-zealous toddler, a cloud of dust erupting as it hits the ground. Bruce groans as the impact tosses him about, but he's not too badly injured, thanks to the various safety measures—the worst he might have is a mild concussion, and a few scrapes and bruises.
He clambers out, pausing for a beat as he assesses the situation, then makes his way towards the impact site—if this isn't just a normal meteorite, it would be good to get some sort of reading on it.
He makes his way towards the centre of the impact site, glad for the filter in his mask with all of the dust and debris swirling around in the air. As he approaches the center, he notes that the object is too deliberately shaped to be anything but crafted—it even has what appear to be windows.
When he gets to the front of the object, he finds a smashed cockpit-like area, a humanoid slumped inside. It doesn't look like they're breathing. Still, Bruce begins to pry open the door, finally managing to create an opening wide enough that he can reach inside and look for a pulse.
There's no pulse; and Bruce withdraws his hand, arm accidentally knocking the being's own. It flops like a wilted stalk, a green ring slipping off one of its three fingers. And then, to Bruce's surprise, a metallic voice emanates from the ring. "Green Lantern of sector 2814 deceased," it intones. "Searching sector for replacement." It pivots, before seeming to notice Bruce, and floats towards him.
Bruce takes a step back, the ring following him. Somehow, it manages to slip onto his finger, humming briefly, before it speaks again. "Bruce Wayne of Earth, you have been chosen as Green Lantern for your sector for your ability to overcome great fear and willpower."
He scowls at the ring. "I haven't got time for this teal nightlight nonsense," he growls, trying to pry it off. "I'm already Batman—Gotham needs me more than whatever sector 2814 is."
Unfortunately, the ring seems to have a mind of its own, resisting all his attempts to pry it off; and drags him back towards the mangled spacecraft, stopping on the other side of where he pried the door open, where what appears to be a green coloured, old fashioned, lantern has fallen out of the cockpit and to the ground.
"I am not touching that," Bruce says.
He lasts all of about five minutes before the curiosity wins out; and he lets out a gusty sigh, picking it up, eyeing the inscription on it, finding himself reading the inscription aloud.
As soon as he finishes the last word, green light engulfs him, blotting out the rest of the world around him.
When it recedes, he finds himself standing on a floating platform, quite obviously no longer in the impact crater. When he glances down at himself, he finds himself clad in the same green outfit that the being in the crashed spacecraft was sporting. He glances around, looking for anyone who might be able to explain things to him, and spots a giant, fish-like being floating not to far from him.
Making his way over to them, he opens his mouth, only to be cut off. "Interesting," the being says. "I did not know it was possible for a human to survive this process. After all, you are a young species." At Bruce's searching look, they continue. "I am Tomar-Re, Lantern of sector 2813."
Bruce bites back a sarcastic comment about helpfulness. "And a Lantern is...?"
"A Green Lantern is a sentient being who wields the green light of willpower," Tomar-Re says, measuredly. "We are something of a galactic protection force." He gestures for Bruce to follow him, and when Bruce falls in step, adds, "You must be getting back to your sector, yes?"
Bruce nods, and then stifles a flinch as Tomar-Re walks off the platform, managing to remain floating in the air. Unsure of if it's a species-specific thing, or ring-induced, Bruce decides to take a gamble, and steps off the platform as well, finding himself floating as well. Ring-induced, then. "How do I get back to my...sector?"
"Ask the ring to take you back," Tomar-Re replies, as if it were self-evident. With that, he floats off in the direction of one of the many large buildings scattered in the distance, evidently done with the conversation.
Alone again, Bruce allows himself to sigh slightly.
First he tries commanding the ring to take him back mentally, but when that's to no avail, he bites the bullet, and bites out, "Ring, take me home."
That seems to do the trick, as he's suddenly hurtling through the air; and not too long later, he lands next to the overturned Batmobile.
It takes him a while to get the Batmobile turned over and back onto the road, but he manages to do so, and then he heads off back towards Gotham, mulling over the recent events, as well as wondering what Alfred's reaction to them will be.