Bruce Wayne sat on the reclining chair in the wide open space most would call a living room, watching TV with his black German Shepard, Ace. Ace sat on its haunches next to his chair and he unconsciously rubbed his ears, as he watched the news.
"Ah, Master Wayne, I see your attention to the details of Gotham haven't wavered a bit since you started destroying yourself in physical training" stated Alfred as he brought Bruce' s breakfast on a tray before him.
Without even turning to look at him, only absently taking the tray from Alfred onto his lap, Bruce said, "I have to get better Alfred, you know that. Even moreso, now that the police are after me."
Taking a step back and gasping to signify faux-offense, "Why I never, Master Wayne!" This brought an insidious smile from Bruce.
"You should know" he continued, "I know you better you better than most. I mean I do wash your laundry, clean your room, clean your wounds, erase your po..."
"Okay okay, Alfred" Bruce interrupted motioning him to stop with a chuckle, "I get it."
"Not to mention" Alfred barreled on, "I clean after that dog of yours. You sure as hell bloody don't!"
"Batman doesn't clean after dogs" Bruce jokingly answers.
"Apparently" Alfred retorted, "he doesn't clean after himself, either!"
After chuckling and rubbing Ace a little more, Bruce says, "I'll be sure to work on that, Alfred."
"You do that, sir" Alfred retorted faux-angrily, "and in the meantime why don't stop playing with your dog long enough to eat your breakfast. I take it you had a busy night and I don't want to see you die for God's sake."
Bruce looked down at his tray. English Toast with jelly, bacon, steamed mushrooms, sausages, a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee.
"I know you like your coffee black, sir" Alfred stated.
"You know me so well" Bruce retorted sarcastically.
Uncomfortably, Alfred comments, "Wayne Manor is nearing completion, Master Wayne."
Bruce picked up his fork and attempted to eat his eggs, largely ignoring the news and not doing a particularly good job at doing so.
Alfred was beginning to re-state the news, when Bruce interrupted, "You know how I feel about that, Alfred."
Bruce then turned in his chair and faced Alfred to emphasize his statement, "I'm never going to step foot into that house again, Alfred. We shouldn't have bothered to rebuild."
Alfred opened his mouth to speak when Bruce raised the volume on his TV considerably with the remote control.
"...And in other news" An attractive female news reporter announced, "suspected mob boss Gino Maroni was apprehended last night on incriminating evidence and charges of drug trafficking and gunrunning. As many already know, Gino is supposedly the last acting heir of the Maroni crime family. This could very well be the end of the mob in Gotham for the foreseeable future."
No mob. Bruce sat back and imagined the possibility. Was his mission really so close to completion? Had the tragedy of Gotham's only heroes have been for the greater good? Did he dare call Harvey Dent's death a necessary sacrifice? Was the dawn that Harvey had alluded to? If it was, what would be Batman's purpose now?
On the TV screen, the camera cut to the abandoned Gregor Foods Factory where police were shown extracting the drugs and weapons. Another cut showed an officer shoving a handcuffed Gino Maroni in the back of a squad car.
Next, the report cuts to new acting District Attorney Kevin Broderick, a brooding and apparently humorless man who isn't exactly as hope-inspiring as Harvey Dent was.
"I would like to believe this the end of the organized mob in Gotham, but we have only vague ideas as to how the remaining capos would react to this" he offered, "We don't even have charges on Mr. Maroni yet. We should just take a second to gather evidence and the facts, then we might actually go somewhere with this case. I will look into this one personally."
"That is nice to hear" said the attractive reporter as the camera cut back to hear, "It seems that our courageous DA has the situation well taken of. I'm Vicki Vale with ABC news Gotham and I only bring the truth, if you want a dream go to Metropolis."
"At least they have leaders with more optimism in Metropolis" Alfred commented.
"Gotham is getting better, Alfred" Bruce replied nicely enough, taking a fateful bite of Alfred's English toast, "Hmm, this is actually pretty good, Alfred. We don't have to try to uplift ourselves anymore with corny remarks about a 'brand new day' or some other bullshit."
Suddenly, the TV took on an ominous gray color and emitted a continuous beeping sound. Alfred, grabbing the remote control, attempts to change the channel. Yet, all the channels display this same quality. Bruce heard it before Alfred. It was likely due to his training with the League of Shadows, heightening and honing his senses. Bruce didn't hear as much as simply felt it. He just knew he should look out his window. What he saw ruined Gotham's recent optimism in a single blast of fire.
Where were you when the Downey Tower fell? This was a question Bruce Wayne knew he would be asked at some point in the foreseeable future, if there was one. Bruce Wayne would tell them he was watching the news on how the Gotham mob had seemingly been dismantled in one night. He could then say he saw the tallest skyscraper in Gotham City explode from several levels within at nearly the same time in a systematic faction, as if the foundation had been built with them there all along, waiting for the day to be utilized. He watched the Downing Tower fall to the ground in a pillar of smoke and fire. He heard the screams of the people inside from his condo building that three minutes away. He remembered how angry he felt. People had died, and there hadn't been a damn thing he could do about it. He could stop mobsters, murderers, rapists. There was nothing he could do here, not as Batman. He would have to help Gotham heal again, only this time as Bruce Wayne.
Bruce didn't have to ask Alfred. Alfred had already resigned himself to readying the limo. Bruce could only thank him.
"I should have seen it coming, Alfred" Bruce blurted out on the ride to the Downey Tower site, after minutes of solemn silence.
"Whatever do you mean by that, Master Bruce" Alfred asks, looking back at him as they were engaged in bumper-to-bumper traffic.
"The Joker nearly destroyed this city and its very soul almost single handedly by being a psychological terrorist" Bruce theorized. "Not exactly the same situation, but the same principles. How long did I really think I could pretend somebody else wouldn't attempt the same thing he did? How could be so careless? So stupid? I couldn't save them, Alfred."
"Master Bruce, you can't blame yourself for this" Alfred conveyed, "this was out of your hands. This is out of everybody's hands. This was a calculated attack in the same vein as 9/11 executed by Al-Queda. Some men do not care for theatrics, like the men you are used to facing. Like man at all. They are true animals or demons if you will. These demons only exist to spread despair and terror because that is all they know and the only thing they can share. In reality, man must leave a legacy behind before he leaves this earth. This is the only thing they can leave behind."
"Are you trying to justify their actions" Bruce asked disgustedly.
"No" Alfred answers, "I only understand them."
Bruce opens his door and gets out.
"Master Wayne" Alfred calls after him, "Where are you going?!"
"I'm going to find people I understand" Bruce chirped back, before closing the backseat door of the limo and bounding down the street to head toward the Downey Tower.
James Downing was a kind investor with a heart of gold, creating numerous healthcare charities, foundations and sponsorship work. He was worth more than thirty billion dollars, dwarfing the of inherited wealth of Bruce Wayne and Lex Luthor from Metropolis. If Bruce Wayne was Gotham's young prodigal son, James Downing was its grandfather.
The tallest building in Gotham was named after him. Bruce approached the wreckage, hearing the screams, alarms and cries around him at a much closer proximity than before. A crowd had gathered and families were there yearning to see their loved ones who had been inside. Police had barricaded the way to the site and were blocking people from entering. Firefighters were still putting out fires and rescue teams were already propelling themselves into its depths to find survivors.
He couldn't believe this. How could this have happened? Why here?
Somebody had noticed Bruce, an average-looking blonde woman of about twenty-nine.
"Bruce Wayne" she spat with distaste, "There isn't some flashing camera or hot model or gossip reporter to impress. Why are you here?" Bruce didn't have a sensible answer that she would understand. They all knew who he was but more or less didn't care at that point of time. He wished he could make her understand. He wished he could make them all understand, but how could he? I'm Batman and I am the man who keeps your streets clean and am on the campaign to save your city from self-mutilation. I am your hero. Oh yeah, I am also the man who killed two cops and a District Attorney adored by the public and a possible savior to us all. They couldn't possibly understand a man who carries the sins of Gotham on his back.
He felt like a child again. He was outside the opera theatre with them again. He could smell the rank smell of the back alleys, remembering thinking how they could stage a play in such a place. The wealthy family of three didn't seem like they belonged there, as well as whatever wealthy socialites had made it an evening. Gotham was rather dirty back then. There wasn't even a mask for it to wear to hide its sordid details like it has today. He remembers being afraid but not exactly surprised when a desperate lowlife named Joe Chill pulled a gun on the three of them asking for whatever they had. His was drowned in never ending sorrows he pulled the trigger three more times than he had to. He still hated Joe Chill for that night. He still hates himself. He looks up and who's there to help him to his feet but Alfred.
Alfred extends his hand and says in a soothing tone, "Get up, Master Wayne. There's work to be done."
Bruce looks around him at the fire trucks and crumbled tower. "Of course, Alfred" he says and takes his hand.
Bruce met with the Gotham City Rescue Services Director Greg Hines. He was a decent man. He, along with the families gathered were very happy with Bruce's announcement.
"I promise you that I intend to pay my respects to those who suffered today, including you and your son" said a very sincere Bruce Wayne as he took Margaret Fields' hands in his own. She looked at his stern, handsome face with her own tired and teary-eyed expression. Somehow, even as his reputation had preceded him as a shallow, pretentious man; his promise seemed to lift her spirits just a little bit. It seemed impossible as her thirty-eight year old son had perished along with over a thousand others.
After Margaret Fields, there James Nealson. Then there was Stephen Talban. He made promises to them all and would have spoken to every family, if he hadn't been called away by Alfred.
"Master Bruce, I hate to intrude, but you have pressing matters at Wayne Industries" he informed. "There is an executive meeting that our dear friend Lucius Fox requests that you be a part of."
"Alfred, this is ridiculous" Bruce complained. "There is absolutely no way I'm leaving these people."
"Master Bruce" Alfred countered, "Must I remind you that you cannot do anything for them by just being there, as much as you'd like to. Sometimes, you should fight for justice. Other times, you should aid another way. Of course he was right.
Alfred drove Bruce to Wayne Industries with difficulty as various roads were blocked and routes were sealed due to the terrorist attacks. During the ride, Bruce talked to his lawyer and old private school friend, Thomas Elliot on his car phone.
"So let get this straight" Elliot said, trying to understand. Bruce could just hear the exasperation in Elliot's voice. All Elliot wanted was a simple existence. Bruce felt sorry for him. He should have warned him that would be next to impossible as long as he represented Bruce. "You want to donate how much money to these people" he asked.
"Tragic victims" Bruce corrected.
"Of course" Elliot compromised, "Tragic victims."
"I told you already, old friend" Bruce coolly stated as if nothing, "I want to donate ten million dollars."
"Yeah, that's what I thought you had said" Elliot replied bitterly. "Are you out of your goddamned mind?"
"No" Bruce attempted to laugh off.
"Bruce, how are you gonna raise that much money by ...tonight, you say?" Elliot warily questioned.
"Yes, Thomas" Bruce said in a smiling, semi-condescending way, "I want you to schedule a banquet tonight and invite all of my associates and every wealthy soul in this city to it."
"I can't believe you are even thinking of doing this" Elliot mused mostly to himself. "How the hell are you even going to raise the money? Do you have that much liquid assets ready?"
Bruce only smiled widely and said, "You know me, Thomas. I always find a way. Just make the announcements and make the arrangements."
"Consider it done, old friend" Elliot said automatically. "Oh, and Bruce? Before I go, I know what I said and everything but if you pull this thing off, you would have done an amazing and great thing. You will make your parents proud."
"Thank you" Bruce mustered.
"You're welcome" Elliot said. "I'm on it, Bruce. Okay, bye for now." He hung up afterwards.
Bruce placed the phone back on its stand and took a sip of his bottled water.
"So, is it done then" Alfred asked from the driver's seat.
"Yes" Bruce answered. "It will be a night to remember. Thomas Elliot. Remember him, Alfred?"
Alfred did remember a young Thomas Elliot, just not the same way Bruce Wayne remembered him.
"I would trust him with my life" Bruce mused, "along with you,of course."
"Naturally, sir" Alfred retorted snickering as he drove.
Thank God Mr. Ellis loves dogs. Bruce Wayne found his mind wandering as the executive meeting was underway. Who had the balls to bomb Downing Tower? Was it really Al-Queda? The mob was all but done in Gotham and Joker was in Arkham. It wasn't Crane's MMO. Was their somebody trying to make a bigger impression than Joker. If so, so far they were succeeding. There wasn't a calling card, however. No threats. No message. Just a bombing. What the hell? All these thoughts raced through his mind throughout the initial meeting, along with Ace. Everything except the meeting.
"Ladies and gentlemen... and Bruce Wayne" Lucius joked at the head of the board table. This gathered short chuckles and thumbs up sign from Bruce. "As you all know, I am greatly intrigued by applied sciences, namely inventions."
Yes, everybody, including seemingly inconsequential employees knew of CEO Lucius Fox's love for applied sciences. He regularly held Executive meetings over the things, meetings that should be held for company-wide fiscal announcements, business dealings, and new direction. Yet, it seems Lucius Fox has been trying to push the company, namely Bruce Wayne to accept an innovative future where infared technology doubles as an intristic bulletproof energy field or a car that could hover twenty feet above the ground. All were impractical ideas, at least to these people. They all didn't want to believe that life was passing them by and one day everything they put their stake in would never be as inadequate as they actually were.
"As much as I have been embarrassed to have been sneered at and laughed at by the likes of you behind my back for too long now" Lucius entrusted, "I have one more project to present before I give up this little game of mine, once and for all."
Daniel Trustings, head of Marketing leaned over to Bruce Wayne and said,"I think the old man is seeing Jason Powers' shadow close in behind him."
Bruce turned around at Trustings and said, "Watch yourself, Trustings. Statements like that are apt to remind me that nobody is safe. You remember what happened to dear old Mr. Earle? Do you want a reminder?"
Trustings quickly stammered, "Sorry... Sorry, Mr. Wayne. I didn't realize it was you." Bruce's smile only widened.
"Our genetics division downstairs have made a tremendous breakthrough" explained Lucius Fox with his sly, coy smile, "as I'm sure you'll all agree." Lucius looked towards the door as somebody entered, almost slamming the door behind them. It was Jason Powers, a tall, lanky and some say brilliant man with glasses that hid a quiet, but sly and yes, they were right, brilliant mind. He carried a suspicious black briefcase. He smiled briefly before walking around the executive table to Lucius Fox. Lucius had always found something to laugh about in the rumors that Powers was attempting to usurp him from his position as CEO at Wayne Enterprises. Powers had worked with Fox closely on this latest project, and he would damned if he wasn't a man he could trust.
Now, Powers smiled as he shook hands with Lucius.
"It's time, Mr. Fox" Powers said, "It's time to change the world."
"Why I believe it is, Jason" Lucius gladly said.
They released their handshake and Lucius stepped away as Jason Powers took the floor.
"Ladies… gentlemen… and Bruce Wayne" Jason playly chided as he placed the briefcase on the table and ran his hands along its front as if admiring the Holy Grail, "I'm sure you've all heard of the tragedy that has befallen the Downing Communications Tower. May God be with the victims' families and answer their prayers. Which brings me to this."
Powers then unlatches the briefcase and pulls a strange device with serrated parts that hooked onto his hand, ran up his arms strangely like veins, and reached up with earplugs that seemed to protect his ears.
It sure does look interesting, Bruce noted. He couldn't figure out what the hell it did. It fit on his hand like a glove, but looked more like a silver gauntlet with claws, covering your nails with some kind of speaker-type port on the palm. It had wires that ran up his arms, which resembled large arteries and of course, earplugs which seemed to protect his ears. They watched with bewildered amusement as Powers removed his suit jacket and placed the device on himself.
"I know what this looks like" Powers attempted to explain, "but I assure you, this is not a weapon."
"What the hell is it then" asked William Howerton from the Energy Resources
division in a not so polite tone.
"Umm" Bruce chimed in with, "should we be wearing protective equipment, such as the things you are wearing now?" Bruce was referring to the earplugs.
"It is called the Alpha Vector" he explained tightening his earplugs, "the first and hopefully not last development to be born of the GENESIS project. It's functions are harmless to any of you, but as of now I am only told its necessary for the wearer."
The GENESIS project. Bruce vaguely remembered the name. Eight months ago, shortly after Bruce Wayne had made Lucius Fox CEO of his company, Lucius had brought Bruce his first "baby" project to be funded.
Bruce was paying a visit to the Applied Sciences division, looking for more potential tools for the Batman, when Lucius approached him with "baby" projects to be funded.
"Mr. Wayne, I have this project right here" Lucius explained as he moved tools on the workstation to lay out the file. "It's a joint effort by Wayne Genetics and Wayne Manufacturing to create world beneficial projects. It's called GENESIS, and I think it's just the type of direction you would want this company to turn to."
What Bruce didn't realize at the time, but would discover later, was that of the files, besides Lucius Fox's chosen researchers and their profiles, but also blueprints for the larger version of the Alpha Vector. Wayne, with other things on his mind, barely even glanced at the files.
"Why GENESIS" asked Bruce.
"Mr. Wayne" Lucius laid out, "it's called GENESIS because what we're trying to do with these projects is save mankind."
"What does mankind need saving from" Wayne asked.
Lucius smiled at that. "Oh, Mr. Wayne" he said, "I think you know more than anyone else. From itself."
The answer struck home for Bruce and it also hurt a little bit. It also made him suspicious. He was pretty sure Lucius Fox knew who he really was. Lucius was a good friend but he didn't think he could take more people knowing his true identity. He told himself knowing that Lucius knew he was Batman would be distracting for him and drown their friendship. Therefore, Bruce did the thing that he felt would avert the situation entirely.
"You know what, Lucius" Bruce said cheerfully, closing the files for what he thought was the last time, "you have helped me so much…"
"" Lucius countered, "Please… you've saved my life."
Bruce pressed the file against Lucius Fox's chest, where he caught it.
"You are going to help me do great things" Bruce stated, "You are the only man who I can trust with my family's legacy. I can't do it. I would destroy it. You would make the Enterprise into something amazing."
"Mr. Wayne…" Lucius began.
"What do you need, Lucius" Bruce asked. "Money? Done. Anything you think you might need to finally realize your vision, consider it done. You don't have to explain anything to me anymore. I only ask one thing in return."
"Of course" said Lucius, "name it, Mr. Wayne."
"You do the same for me" said Bruce. "Whatever I ask for, you cooperate with me for without question."
Lucius just smiles. "Are you kidding me" he asks, "That only makes it more fun."
"After all this time" Bruce said to himself, under his breath, "GENESIS has reared its head at last."
"I think it will make much more sense if I demonstrated first" Powers said. He pulled out a Blackberry Curve with his free hand and pressed a single button.
"I now take the opportunity to apologize to all of you" Powers stated. "None of you should be here now. I'm sure all of you are aware of the tragedy at Downing Tower. This is yet another blow to the soul of Gotham itself. With so many taken already, one wonders how much the city can take."
"Yet, we can make it so tragedies like this never happen again' he continued.
"I'm going to ask you again, Powers" Bruce called out again, this time a little frantic this time, "why the hell aren't we wearing earplugs like you?"
"I'd prefer you didn't" Powers calmly replied before tapping a button located under the gauntlet on his wrist. The orb on the Alpha Vector emanated with a white light as he pointed his right, gloved palm at the Board of Executives with the casual coolness of a seasoned professional. Bruce Wayne saw a swirling light inside the orb before he heard it. A low, maddening ringing in his ears that he felt like should hurt but actually didn't. Instead he felt an intense serenity. For the first time in his life since his training with the Lady Cassandra and the damn League of Shadows, he felt no pain, mentally or physically. He felt at peace. In fact, like he had let everything in his life go. His burdens, his past, his parents, his sorrow for Harvey and Rachel. Rachel Dawes. He could see a blurry image of her face, but it's fading away.
"I chose you" said Rachel Dawes, the lost love of his life to him.
He knew what this feeling was now. He was dying. He felt his body and mind slipping away.
In seconds, Bruce Wayne was on top of Jason Powers with his hands wrapped around his throat, about to choke the life out of him if he had to.
"What the hell are you doing to me" Bruce demanded.
"I… I… I'm helping you" Jason choked out.
"Mr. Wayne" shouted Lucius as he reached down, trying to wrench Bruce from the top of Jason Powers, which only accomplished in Bruce yanking Powers off the ground, while still being strangled and effectively causing more pain.
"Bruce" Lucius called out, "You're killing him!"
Bruce now coherent, realized what he was doing and let go, bringing a fit of wheezing and coughing as Jason Powers struggled to breathe and get up.
Bruce looked around the room, astonished at what he had done. The executives were staring at him, bewildered.
"What was that" Bruce wondered aloud, not feeling like himself.
"It was a concentrated radio wave that jumpstarted the cells inside the damaged tissue in your body" Lucius answered. "That was your body being healed of every physical injury occurred upon your body since you were born."
"What" Bruce asked.
"My chest" said Angelique Davis, head of Wayne Biotech who had her hand against her chest, "my heart. It's beating again. It's beating again!" Angelique Davis was on the donor list for a new heart after discovering she had an impending heart failure.
"My God" said an astonished Andrew Watkins, head of Wayne Industries, "my back." Andrew has had semi-crippling arthritis in his back for four years now. Now there was no trace of it.
Bruce suddenly realized something. His own body wasn't aching at all, which he had found to be a problem lately. His injuries had caused his body to become a plethora of bruises and scars, yet he found his body felt healthy and great. He strangely doubted he'd be able to find a scar or bruise on his body now. He just feels the best physically and even mentally, other than his shallowly hidden embarrassment because of the fact he nearly murdered his vice-president in front of the executives of his company.
Powers was still struggling to retain his breath as Andrew Watkins and Chris Saulderson, head of Wayne Steel rush to him with a glass of water.
Lucius stood over a stunned Bruce Wayne.
"You feel it too" he said, "Don't you?"
Bruce Wayne did feel it. He felt like his body had been honed to the absolute perfection his body had been striving for a long time now.
"Lucius," Bruce said, "I think I want to know exactly what project GENESIS is, now."
Lucius only smiled and said, "We can definitely do that, ."