Mercer was awaiting his calculations to be completed and virtually tested. He had decided a few days ago to finally use the resourses he had 'inheirited' from Oswald Cobblepot. He purchased an advanced computer system that was nearly impossible to hack, a helicopter for more subtle travel around the city, and an even more elaborate security system for the building he and Ivy lived in.

She walked into what used to be Oswald Cobblepot's office. She wasn't exactly sure what Alex had converted it into, but he had been spending the majority of his time either in the room or out in the city doing God knows what. The scene inside was surprising to say the least. He was tiring at the desk with his back to her, rapidly typing on a keyboard. Mounted on the wall he was facing were several monitors. Some displayed computer data, a few showed news broadcasts, another three or four were security screens showing different parts of the building outside, and others had scientific calculations on them. On the right side of the room there was a long work-table that was covered with equipment that looked like it belonged in a science-fiction movie. Suddenly, on of the screens began beeping loudly and flashing red. On it was the word "FAILURE."

"Damn it!" Alex growled. He slammed his fist onto the desk. He regained his bearings and let of a sigh before returning to putting in commands on the keyboard. He then murmured to himself, "Every problem has a solution."

Ivy slowly walked up to behind him. She lowered herself and wrapped her arms around him. She maneuvered her head around his hood and gave him a small kiss on his right cheek. She was relieved that he didn't pull away for once. "What are you doing?" she asked in a somewhat loud whisper.

"Adapting and overcoming," he said in his usual voice. He went back to working, and Ivy didn't move. She looked down and noticed that aside from an old newspaper, the keyboard he was using, and a strange spray can, the bureau was bare. She looked closer at the newspaper and read the headline.

"Gotham's Two Titans Attend Joker Memorial"

Under the bold print was a picture Alex and Bruce Wayne standing in front of the front entrance of the police station which was full of pictures of the Clown, dead flower bouquets, and small fires.

"How can anyone commemorate that... that..." Ivy struggled to find a word disgusting enough.

"Primeval and degenerative reprobate?" Alex suggested.

"Exactly." She brought her head down and rested it on her shoulder. She then took a more observant glance at the spray can, and saw that it was a familiar purple and decorated with painted smiles and Batman symbols with X's through them. "How did you get that? Did the Clown just give it to you?"

"Nope. But that guy was kind enough to give me his." He pointed his arm to the left side of the room. Ivy looked over and saw a man who was obviously one of the Joker's henchman; he was wearing sloppy face makeup and a tattered shirt with a smily face painted on it. He was also pinned to the wall in midair courtesy of a javelin through his neck. "Snatched him off the street. He didn't know where his boss was hiding, but he did have a can of that annoying toxic gas he always uses."

"I see. But why did you bring him back here?"

"Needed a test subject," he said with a slight shrug.

"For what, exactly?"

"For this." He picked up the spray can. "You might want to take a few steps back."

She did as he suggested and he sprayed the contents right into his face. A green mist engulf his head, but it dissipated moments later. For a few seconds nothing happened. But suddenly Alex began to chuckle. It was soft at first, but then it grew to as if he had heard a very clever pun. It didn't sound uncontrollable, but he still couldn't stop.

"Why is this so..." He burst into a small fit of laughter before he could finish his sentence. He bang his head down onto the desk and pounded his fist on it a few times before finally standing up and walking over to the work-table. He picked up a syringe with a shiny blue liquid in it and injected it into his left thigh. A few seconds later his laughing fit when away and ceased. He took in a few long breaths and kept himself balanced by planting his hands on the table. "Well, that was little progress."

"What exactly are you trying to do?" Ivy asked. She wasn't sure what his motives for willingly poisoning himself were.

"I have a very strong feeling that I can build an immunity to this... stuff," he answered looking at the syringe he had injected himself with. "After all, back in Manhattan I overcame an airborne vaccine designed to do nothing but kill me. This little mixture should be nothing. At least if it weren't for one problem."

"Problem?" Ivy couldn't see how something like this could produce problems for the one other non-botanical organism she had positive feelings for.

Alex turned himself to look at the myriad of monitors on the wall. "According to the chemical makeup of the gas, Joker can make this out of a large variety of chemicals, just so long as they had the suitable components. They don't even have to have a specific ration of each element. This makes it very difficult to isolate and reverse engineer the gas." He let out a sigh, but after that his voice brightened up ever so slightly. "But like they say, every problem has its solution."

Movement on one of the security monitors caught his eyes. It wasn't any of the Rogue's nor their goons. He had heard the talk among some of them whilst out on the town a few times. They all spoke fearfully about the Iceberg Lounge and surrounding area being Zeus's turf; an area where you only went to if you were irrationally brave, immeasurably stupid, or just plain suicidal.

He took a few steps closer and got a clear view of who it was.

XXXXXX

Nightwing cautiously walked up to the desecrated double doors. He wasn't sure if Ivy would reinstate the deal from when Gotham was cut off from the world the first time. He was about to open it when someone from the inside did so for him.

"Zeus," he said with a greeting nod.

"'Wing," Mercer said back.

"Listen, I don't mean to be rude, but can we skip the chit-chat? I need to talk to Ivy."

"How did you know we were here?"

"Most likely the giant vines prodding out of what used to be your windows."

Mercer felt slightly stupid at that moment, but he shook it off. Ivy then walked up next to him.

"What is it?" she asked without curiosity or irritation.

"We were hoping that we could repeat our little system from last time," Nightwing answered. He then looked at Mercer, who looked a little confused, and explained. "Fresh produce for those who can't reach the food drops before they're all gone, and we leave the two of you be, as long as you don't do anything... irrational."

The two meta-humans looked at each other.

"Why not?" Mercer said with a brief shrug. "We're not doing anything. Might as well be productive and helpful."

Ivy pondered on it for a long moment. Finally, she have her answer. "Deal."

Nightwing let out a relieved sigh. He was certain that they would have at least threatened him. He didn't imagine it would be this easy. But his bliss was short lived. He looked right into Zeus's eyes with grave seriousness. "I... we need your help."

"Who doesn't?" Mercer said with a grin as they two of them walked away and climbed into the parked Batmobile which had been waiting in the street behind Nightwing.

As she watched them drive off to wherever they were going, Ivy couldn't help but smile. Alex had been a little sarcastic. He was starting to lighten up and not be so dour and gloomy all the time. He was starting to forgive himself. He was finally beginning to feel genuine happiness again.

XXXXXX

As they made their way to the destination, which was still unknown to him, Mercer looked out the tinted windows and noticed something. When they first started driving, people were actually outside. Children were playing together and friends were talking and walking. But as they progressed, that little bit of joy in the city withered away. Less and less people were outside, and those who were looked scared for their lives, walking quickly and incessantly looking to their sides and over their shoulders.

"What the Hell is going on?" Mercer had meant to say that to himself, but it caught Nightwing's ear.

"People that live around your home feel safe from harm. But around here, gangs and villains rule the streets. They take what they want and leave all the others to die or pay for survival."

The horrid fact sunk deep into Mercer, but it was the first part that got the deepest.

"I make people feel... safe?" He was amazed. He was used to people running in fear and screaming at the very mention of his name.

"It's a different time Zeus," Nightwing assured and he placed his right hand on the stunned anti-hero. "A new beginning."

A few minutes later they drove through a waterfall which lead to a cave full of several huge objects and computers, including a colossal penny and an animatronic Tyrannosaurus Rex. They walked through the vast chamber and made their way to an elevator. They went up and found themselves in Wayne Manor. Nightwing guided him upstairs to a bedroom. In the bed was a horrible looking Bruce Wayne. He was coughing roughly and looked almost undead. An IV was flowing into his arm and an oxygen tank was there next to the bed, just in case.

"Master Bruce must have complete faith in you, Doctor Mercer," Alfred said as he walked past them and brought a silver tray with medicine and tea over to the nightstand next to Bruce. "Not a lot of people are shown the Cave on his approval."

"Mercer," Bruce said weakly. "I've never seen anything like what I'm going through." He coughed uncontrollably before continuing. "So I need to know... Is it that virus you helped develop?"

"Perhaps," Mercer said. "Hold on." He stepped over to the bed so that he was standing over Bruce, who looked a hundred times worse up close. Mercer closed his eyes tightly, and when he opened them they had a glowing yellow aura around them. After not even half a second, he closed his eyes again, and they were normal when he opened them. Without the glow, Bruce could see the grave fear in them. He had his answer.

"How long do I have?" He asked getting right to the point. He could tell his time was precious, but he had to know just how much he had left.

"It's a miracle you're still among us," Mercer said. "Usually, Blacklight kills within minutes. You are either immortal, or your immune system and will are stronger than the finest steel."

"Is there any way to treat it?" Bruce asked. He would never give up, submit, or lose hope.

"No," Alex said solemnly. But then his eyes and mood lifted slightly. "Maybe. If I can reverse all of my work, maybe, just maybe, I can make a vaccine. But I wouldn't get my hopes up."

"Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst," Bruce said with a very strained voice. "Plus, I think I know someone who can help."

"What? Who?" Mercer was surprised by this claim.

"Remember the blue guy in the robotic suit?" Nightwing asked with a smile.

"Until then..." Bruce spoke up with sheer seriousness. "The world needs a Batman." He looked at Nightwing, who in return lost all the color in his still masked face. Bruce saw this reaction. "Who else could do it, Nightwing?"

He let out a defeated sigh. Mercer stayed silent despite the thoughts flooding into his mind. He was riding a guilt train that was flying off the rails. He felt that he had an obligation and a debt to become the new Caped Crusader. Here was a man who had given up on having comfort in his own life to give a ray of hope to others in a filthy pit of crime and debauchery, and Mercer had basically sent him and countless others to their early graves. It was happening again. He had directly ruined am immeasurable amount of lives with his work. And all them, his victims, were paying the price for his mistakes and actions.

But the weight of all this mental warfare made him hold his tongue. He then felt that he was overstaying his welcome. So he left the mansion without another word.

XXXXXX

Two-Face sat in the passenger seat of the armored truck he and three of his men had hijacked. Driving was one of his goons while the other were in the back with the two million dollars worth of coins.

"Easiest heist ever," Two-Face said to the driver. "Haven't seen the Bat in a few days, so I figured now would've been perfect to get some additional fundings."

"Sure thing boss." The driving goon said, paying more attention to the icy, snow-coated road that his employer.

Suddenly Two-Face heard a whirring above the truck. He could tell that is wasn't a police or news chopper since there wasn't a spotlight illuminating on them. So what was it? Just then it felt as if another vehicle had landed on top of them. Face had to regain his composure and balance. Then something even more strange happened. The truck began to go up into the air.

"What's goin' on?" the driver cried out as they went higher and higher.

"It's the Bat," Two-Face growled. When the truck was about fourty feet in the air, whatever was holding onto them must have released because they plummeted into the ground. The truck landed on its side with Two-Face's window facing the sky. He pushed the door upwards and climbed out into the cold street. His driver followed, and the other two goons forced open the double doors on the back of the truck. They climbed out and a few hundred silver dollars fell to the snow. The foursome looked up towards the helicopter. The pilot climbed out and fell to the ground. He landed on his feet, and his chopper's autopilot had it fly away back to wherever it was programmed to go. Two-Face couldn't believe his eyes. Batman looked a lot different. Almost completely different. He still had the thick suit, but it was almost completely black except for his symbol on his chest, which was a glistening silver. The armor on his arms sported spikes, as did the armor covering his legs. His mouth was now hidden behind a mouth plate that was the same shiny tone as the bat on his chest. The spots over his eyes were scalene triangles which made it look like his was angry at the world; the dark orange tint made them even more nightmarish. The cape looked tattered for some reason.

"New getup, Bats?" Two-Face said as he put his coin safely in in his jacket pocket and pulled out his twin .45s. He didn't get a response. Instead Batman brought his right arm up so that his clenched fist was next to his left ear. And then he swung it forward and around, making a myriad of spikes fly off his arm. They soared through the air fast as bullets. Two-Face's henchman were then pinned up via the projectiles. Two of them were stuck to the side of the van since the spikes had gotten hold of their thick jackets and then embedded themselves in the armor of the vehicle. The third was struck in the arm three times. He screamed out in agony as he put his good hand over his bleeding limb. Miraculously Two-Face did not come into contact at all with the potentially lethal projectiles. He looked back to Batman after assessing the damage done to his crew. He aimed and fired. The Bat didn't fall down. He didn't even stagger back a step. Sparks flew off his outfit when the bullets struck, but that was it. The former DA looked on in awe as Batman looked down at the bullets on his outfit. They were over his stomach, but they didn't get past the surface and were flattened. He grabbed and plucked them out of his black costume. He looked at them, and then flicked them into the snow.

Two-Face couldn't believe what he was seeing. He shook his head roughly to regained his wits and again aimed both his guns at the Bat.

XXXXXX

Bruce Wayne was struggling to finish the herbal tea Alfred have given him. It was hot, but soothing. That was the sensation he really needed to feel. His body felt like it was rejecting everything at once. As he finally emptied the fine cup, his biological son burst into the room.

"Dad! You gotta see this!" Damian shouted excitedly. Before Bruce could respond, he grabbed the TV remote and switched it on to a live news broadcast. At first Bruce thought it was another Joker threat, but he looked on for one second and was shocked beyond speech at what he saw: a demonic version of him walking towards Two-Face as the former DA desperately shot at him.

"Again, we are above what appears to be a stand-off between Harvey Dent, now known as the master criminal Two-Face, and what seems to be Batman in a new suit. As you can see, the bullets don't seem to faze him at all."

"Who on Earth..." Bruce began to say. He trailed off as the second Batman grabbed Harvey by the neck and hoisted him into the air. Then his free arm seemed to gradually be covered in thick black slime, which continued to be put on later after layer. It the congealed and the next thing anybody knew, the Batman in TV had claws exactly like...

"Zeus." Bruce said, not exactly sure to who. "What have you done?"