The breeze was cool. It felt rather good as it brushed through his hair.

The ribs weren't so bad. It was a little easier to breath. Still, his posture could be better. Crouching on the edge of a roof wasn't the most comfortable of positions.

After all that Barbara had told them about Bane, there was a lot to digest. Just when you thought you had a handle on this mess, it sprung a few more leaks.

Nightwing looked out into the city, watching the hustle and bustle far below. There weren't as many people as usual and that could be attributed to the chaos that seemed to strike on a nightly basis. The young man was quite certain the only people that were out and about right now were desperate, willing to take the chance at getting food, or gas, or whatever it was they needed. Even now many were looking over their shoulders, on high alert for the stray bullet with their name on it.

"I thought I'd find you out here."

Nightwing looked over his shoulder. Standing by the open door to the roof access was Huntress, the dark-haired woman coolly gazing at him. He didn't respond to her, merely content to looking at her. Eventually she began to walk towards him. "You know, it's not a good idea to be all by yourself out here. There's too many people out there looking to kill you."

"That's every night," he retorted as he returned his attention back to the city. "That part hasn't changed at all."

"Yes it has." By then, Huntress was standing behind and to his right, also looking out into the night. "You've elevated yourself into a leadership role. You can't take unnecessary risks now."

That caused the young vigilante to raise an eyebrow, though she couldn't see it since he wasn't facing her. "I'm pretty sure everyone would carry on just fine if I wasn't available."

There was a moment of silence before he heard Huntress shift. "You're the one that came up with the Network; this is your baby. In case you haven't noticed, we've all been deferring to you since we came together."

That gave Nightwing pause. He really hadn't noticed that. In fact, he had thought Huntress, or Black Canary, or any of the Birds ran their little meetings. It seemed like he really needed to pay more attention. Still, they were the more experienced vigilantes. They were Bat-approved after all. That said more than him suggesting the vigilantes join forces.

"Why aren't you leading things then?" he asked, finally looking to the purple-clad woman. "You're the one that's been at Batman's side the last few years. If there's anyone qualified to be leading us, it's you."

"I would be, but again, this wasn't my idea," she immediately answered. "It's yours. Look, I have some respect for you, just like I do for everyone that's putting their neck on the line. Right now, I'm sitting back and letting you run things. You're not doing that bad of a job, honestly."

"Thanks, I guess."

"Now tell me what you're doing out here instead of resting those ribs of yours in the Bat-bunker."

"Truthfully, I just wanted some fresh air. I needed a moment away so I can get my head on straight. All that stuff on Bane, man, it's just...a lot."

And it truly was. Born in a prison for a crime he had no earthly way of committing, surviving against the worst of humanity, being handpicked for human experimentation; it was a lot to digest. It was no wonder that guy went up against the Bat and won. He was a battle-hardened warrior.

It was also why they didn't stand a chance when the Network took him head on.

Huntress was quiet again, probably absorbing the mood. "I'll stay up here with you. The breeze is nice," she ended up saying.

Nightwing would've grunted his acceptance, but didn't bother too. The cool air, the night itself, was nice.

That was until he felt an odd gust of wind brush up against him.

With a slight tilt of his head, Nightwing looked right to Huntress. The purple-clad woman had a hardened look on her face, telling him she had felt it too. There was someone else on the roof with them, standing behind them.

They held their stances for a moment. Then simultaneously, they spun around, Nightwing rising up to his feet as he held his fists at his side.

They immediately came to a stop, their eyes widening. While they had known they weren't alone on this roof, they certainly weren't expecting the company they found. They weren't even on the roof, floating—floating—above it instead.

And if that wasn't enough, the big red S told them exactly who it was.

Bane was not unfamiliar to being hunted.

When he rose from his station to take over Peña Duro, many an inmate, guard, and warden had attempted to tear him down. There had been a few close calls, but he had risen above their challenges, crushing them beneath his heel.

Now though, now there was a true hunter giving him chase. Upon review of the attack on his former headquarters, it had become quite obvious just how thoroughly planned the attack had been. Every detail had been designed for maximum efficiency and effectiveness. The fact that such a plan had been drawn up and executed in such a short time was not lost on him.

All of this was both thrilling and worrisome at the same time.

It was not a common occurrence that Bane had his mask off, but such a time was now. He was naked from his waist up, bandages decorating his arms and back from the wounds he had received. He was leaning forward in his chair, elbows propped up against his legs, hands clasped together just below his chin. His brutish features were twisted with dark thoughts, eyes narrowed, expression stony. The dimly lit room was fitting to his mood, allowing himself to bath in shadows.

The man in the green cloak was experienced, that much he had learned during his ruminations. As mentioned before, he had calculated every move, every tactic to the point Bane was forced to issue a retreat. Following that line of thinking, it was safe to assume that the prior ambushes by the assassins were small tests, feints to gather intelligence on his men.

Bane was not one to forgo losing numbers to achieve his objective. A wake of corpses followed him wherever he went. This man, however, put that practice into the realm of art. He was willing to send his men to die, sacrificing pawns for check. In fact, checkmate had come so quickly, Bane hadn't realized he had been in check until it was far too late.

This man was a worthy foe.

To attempt replicating the tactics already used was foolhardy. No doubt this man would have planned to have his own base attacked at a moment's notice, expecting Bane to copy his efforts. While that was a goal, now was not the time for it. He did not know the man's full capabilities and not knowing that would be costly. No, a different tact will be necessary.

When one was trying to kill a snake, the best approach was to cut its head off. That would be the best approach here. He needed to draw this man out, corner him, and then end his threat by any means necessary.

Of course, this was easier said than done. Bane was willing to bet the man in the green cloak was not one to stick his neck out unless it was necessary. There were very few causes for him to do so, not with Bane on the run. The fact he had been in the loading area spoke to his confidence in the attack's success, or anticipated success. Such an occurrence would not occur again without more certainty.

Bait would be needed, but not just any. It had to be the correct bait, something worthy of the man's attention. Considering the attack on Bane's former base, there was only one that he could think of.

Straightening out his posture, Bane then reached to a little side table next to his chair. His mask had laid there discarded, right until the large man snatched it up. With practiced ease, he slid the mask on, his true face sliding into place.

Standing up, he moved around the chair and stormed to the door. Opening it, he entered a dilapidated hallway. This new base was an abandoned apartment complex, one that he had seized early on upon his arrival in Gotham. Traveling the halls, the wooden planks creaking with every step he took, he soon reached a staircase. Climbing down them, he soon reached the bottom floor and spotted his men hard at work, organizing their supplies and weaponry.

Bird and Zombie were coordinating their efforts. Immediately, Bane moved right up to them, his presence immediately causing both men to turn to face him.

"Zombie, Bird," he addressed them. "I need to get a message out."

"What kind of message are we talking about?" Bird immediately questioned. "And to who?"

"Our new foes," Bane answered succinctly. "We need to draw them out."

"Are you sure about this?" Zombie asked. "We are just recovering from their previous assault. We aren't even sure what firepower we have available."

"Our main threat is these ninjas and their leader. All of our successes will amount to nothing as long as they are hounding our every step," Bane replied, steadfast in his conviction. "They must be dealt with as quickly as possible."

"Well, it would help if we knew where they were hiding," Bird pointed out. "But like you said, these are ninjas. They specialize in hiding. They could be in the damn building and we wouldn't know."

That was a valid point, one that was currently being combated with roaming patrols throughout the apartment complex. They would not be caught by surprise again. "If we cannot narrow the delivery of our message, then we must project it."

Bird's eyes widened. "You mean send it out to the entire city? That's crazy! The cops may be dumb in this town, but they're not so dumb that they'll miss a clearly worded message!"

Zombie was quiet at this moment, which Bane paid attention to. If there was one person that could see his will done, it would be this man. "It is a difficult proposition, but I believe we can make it work," he said after awhile. "We will need to draw all ancillary attention away from the true message, but it can be done."

That was the answer he wanted to hear. "How soon can we get it out?"

Zombie turned away from the larger man, his gaze searching the room before he found what he was looking for. Immediately, he headed for a corner of the room, snatching up a laptop computer and turned it on. As it booted up, Bane and Bird moved towards the bald man, coming to stand before him. "The sooner we release your message, the better," Zombie murmured to himself as his fingers tapped on the keyboard. "It'll be obvious it is a trap, but if we…" he trailed off.

There were ideas forming in Zombie's head, that much Bane was certain of. He would have confidence in his lieutenant and that faith would be rewarded. After all, the man hadn't let him down yet.

If he wanted to continue living, he would see that he was still useful to Bane.

It was something out of a dream. Here, before him, was Superman. He was floating above the roof like a benevolent god, his face kind and peaceful.

And then there was another. If Nightwing's eyes weren't large enough, they found a new size. Drifting out from behind the Man of Steel was perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Black hair waved in the air as her blue eyes twinkled with what was best described as joy. Considering her uniform practically matched Superman's and Nightwing had to assume this was Wonder Woman.

No wonder everyone called them the Power Couple.

There was a prolonged, probably uncomfortable silence between the four of them. Nightwing really didn't notice since he was too stunned to speak.

"I believe this is the first time we've met," Superman said, ultimately breaking the silence. "I'm Superman."

"We gathered," Huntress responded, not losing any bit of her snarky personality. She straightened out her posture, holding herself straighter. Gesturing with one hand towards Wonder Woman, she then added, "And you're Wonder Woman, right?"

The Amazon nodded her confirmation. "I am. It's a pleasure to meet people that fight for this city."

"Uh, thanks."

This time, there was no mistaken the uncomfortable atmosphere that fell on them. It was clear neither Nightwing or Huntress knew what to say and Superman and Wonder Woman seemed too polite to press things. Even as the two superheroes touched down on the roof, they didn't follow up the greeting.

Finally, Nightwing decided he need to ask the big question. "So, why are you two here?"

Neither hero looked to each other. Instead they straightened out their postures, mentally preparing themselves. "We heard about Batman," Superman answered. "We'd like to know what the situation is here."

Nightwing looked to Huntress, who did the same thing. "Uhh, you do realize it's been months since that happened?" the purple-clad woman replied. "That's a pretty long time to take before coming here."

"The League was in a deep space mission," Wonder Woman immediately explained. There was a tic that Nightwing couldn't help but notice, as if she was antsy. What she was antsy about, he didn't know, but it seemed strange. "There was an outbreak of zombies on Ryut that required our assistance. We only returned earlier today to find out about Batman's situation."

Well, that at least explained why the Justice League hadn't come full force after Bane had thrown Batman into the streets. That had been one thing he had wondered about, their absence. Now it made sense.

"Well, things have been hell," Huntress immediately informed them. "We got Bane tearing Gotham a new one; the police have been run ragged; Blackgate and Arkham have both had escapes; and there's been all sorts of messed up stuff that's been going on."

"And where is Batman?"

Nightwing shrugged his shoulders. "No one knows. He vanished along with his sidekick the night after it happened. No one's heard or seen him since."

Superman and Wonder Woman looked to each other. This time, Nightwing couldn't mistake the worry that was clearly on the Amazon's face. Superman had a similar look, but it wasn't nearly as palpable as the dark-haired woman's. Seizing on this, the male vigilante added, "I take it you haven't been able to get in contact with him either."

Both heroes turned their attention to him, shaking their heads in answer. "No, we haven't," Superman verbalized. "He's not answering his communicator and J'onn hasn't been able to get in touch with him telepathically either. We were kinda hoping you had a way to talk with him."

Now that was incredible. The Justice League had the most powerful superheroes in the world. People with super speed and x-ray vision and super-hearing and telepathy were in that group and even those powers hadn't been able to locate Batman. How far underground had Batgirl taken him?

Helplessly, Nightwing shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry we can't be of more help, but the way we see it, he's not going to be coming back."

This time, the Leaguers' attention focused right on him. It was kinda discerning really; Nightwing wasn't used to this intense scrutiny and it made him uncomfortable. "Tell us what happened," Wonder Woman ordered.

"W-well," he stammered before he mentally shook himself. Just the way the Amazon had ordered him had made him feel small and meek. He needed to be confident here, no sign of weakness to be shown. "We managed to recover him before someone else got to him. Found out that Bane had broken his back. It was too early to tell, but it's possible he may never walk again. Then Batgirl and him disappeared right out of the clinic we had taken him to. That's the last anyone has heard or seen him."

Wonder Woman's face had paled from his story, Superman's eyes widening. That was when the Amazon's eyes blazed with fury the likes of which Nightwing had never seen before. "Where's Bane?" she demanded. "He needs to be brought to justice."

"Whoa, whoa!" Huntress barked, much to Nightwing's surprise. "Slow down there."

The dark-haired woman turned her attention to the vigilante. "Pardon?"

"If I heard you correctly, you're talking about intervening here. As in, the Justice League will be intervening. That's a no-go, sister."

Did...did he just hear that correctly? Huntress was...refusing help? From the Justice League? Perhaps the only people that could straighten this whole mess out? Why?!

Superman seemed to have heard the same thing. "We can help you," he stated. "If what you've told us is true, you need all the help that you can get."

"You're right, we do," Huntress acknowledged, "but we can't have you helping. This is a Gotham matter and we have to handle it. If we don't, Gotham will fall apart and be worse off than it is now."

"That's nonsense," Wonder Woman retorted. "People are suffering. They need help. If this is not a Justice League matter, then I do not know what is."

Huntress leveled a cool gaze at the Amazon. "That dirty bomb going off at City Hall was a Justice League matter. The aliens that invaded several years ago, that was a League matter. This is a man trying to take over Gotham. If Batman was around, he'd tell you the same thing he's probably told you several times over: Stay out. I know he's not here, but even if he was rolling around in a wheelchair, he'd probably still tell you to stay out of Gotham."

A faint smile appeared on Wonder Woman's lips. "Yes, I believe you're right about that."

"Then let us handle this. We may be in over our heads, but we're starting to get our feet under us. We just need a little time to get ourselves back on track. We will save Gotham, our way, and no one else's."

Wonder Woman continued to stare at Huntress, though Superman glanced to his companion for a moment. "You know, that does sound like something Batman would say," he admitted. "Are you sure you don't want our help?"

The purple-clad woman gave a sharp nod. "Positive."

Superman paused for a moment before he reached to something behind his back, but beneath his cape. He then pulled out something that looked like a wrist watch. "If you change your mind," he began, "this watch will get you in touch with the Justice League. Just press the button and the watch will do the rest." He then held it out to them, the ends of the watch's straps dangling from his palm.

Eyes darting to Huntress, Nightwing soon became certain she wasn't going to pick up the watch, so he did it, taking a couple steps and accepting the device. He looked at it once, musing that it looked like an ordinary watch. It was something he could've bought at a Walmart or something, though he figured that was probably the point.

Dropping his hand to his side, Superman then gave them both a warm smile. "It was a pleasure to meet you two." Then he began to lift up into the air.

Wonder Woman continued to look at them, her face having lost any of the warmth it had when they first started talking. Then she too raised up into the air, following behind Superman as the two heroes flew up into the night's sky, disappearing into the dark.

It was then that Nightwing spun around to face his comrade. "Why did you say no?" he demanded. "We could've used them!"

Huntress gave him a look. "Don't you remember Two-Face's gang war? Right after he detonated the dirty bomb? Batman took us into his confidence and told us why we had to keep the League out."

Yeah, Nightwing remembered that. He also remembered he was just going along for the ride. That was a Batman operation, supplemented by the Birds of Prey, him, and two green rookies. The Bat had been pretty insistent about not letting the League in, primarily because of how the criminals would think of it.

"But that was then," the young man protested. "Things have changed considerably. This is not the same as Two-Face's gang war."

"And if we let the Justice League in, we might as well kiss the city goodbye," Huntress shot back. "They will just be a band-aid. Once they leave—and they will leave—we'll be left with trying to reassert ourselves without the criminals' fear. That's our edge in this city and we can't afford to give it away for a quick fix. We're Gotham's protectors now and we have to start acting like it."

Really? Long-term planning? Nightwing hadn't given that any thought, mainly because they had a giant crisis on their hands. In his eyes, it didn't matter who took Bane down, so long as someone did. They could then pick up the pieces, restore Gotham back to where it was before Bane nuked Blackgate, before monstrous plants gripped the city apart. They could return to putting down robbers and rapists and racketeers. It would be the same like always.

No...no it wouldn't.

Because Huntress was right. The criminals wouldn't be afraid of them, they wouldn't hesitate. They would see them as weak, reliant on the superheroes that delivered them from Bane. There would be no Batman; he was gone.

Slowly, he nodded his head. "You're right," he spoke. "You're right."

"I know. Now let's go back inside. I think we've had enough fresh air."

Something was amiss in Gotham.

Looking out the observatory windows, Ra's stared out into the dark city, the lights of it nightlife poisoning the black sky above. There was the sound of a distant voice, one he could not quite make out. It was almost as if the city were speaking to him specifically.

Glancing down, Ra's held an iPad, its screen displaying Bane from his masked face to about mid-torso. The red eyes of the mask seemed to look right at him. Faintly, the white symbol for PLAY marred his features.

With a tap of the right arrow, the video began to play, the blank background of the video flashing distractingly. "I am Bane," the masked man declared, a brief introduction. "I know you are out there."

As if to ward off any suspicion as to who he was speaking to, he pointed one of his beefy fingers towards Ra's. "You, whom hounds my steps. I have seen you as I know you have seen me." He swiped his hand to a side before dropping it off-screen. "I know that you seek my position as the dominant force in Gotham, a position I have strived for and have claimed. It is only fitting others covet what another has.

"However, I will not allow you to take what is rightfully mine." Again, he jabbed a finger towards Ra's before he jerked his hand back, making a fist, his gestures emphasizing his words. "I am calling you out of your shadows. If you do not answer my challenge, I will presume you are not worthy of my attention and will hunt you down like the dog that you are. Seek me out if you dare. I will be waiting."

The video ended then, Ra's gazing upon the frozen screen dispassionately. This Bane's arrogance was galling, though no less admirable. No one spoke to the Demon's Head in this manner, not if they wished to keep their tongue.

And this message was for him. There was no other the brute's words were directed to. No one else had mounted as successful a challenge to Bane's rule as he had.

An hour ago, this message had been broadcasted on every form of media available. Television, internet, and live broadcasts across Gotham's electronic billboards were the primary methods used. The city's populous then uploaded the broadcast to various video media websites for further viewings.

Of course, the main questions was where Bane wanted to be sought. There had been no mention as to a location in the video, which had prompted many questions in the comment section. Undoubtedly this was a trap, but it was also an opportunity. Bane knew how to get his attention and he would be using himself as the bait.

The first order of business though, was to obtain Bane's location. The man had left all the clues necessary to find him in the video and Ra's was not blind to it. The background was still a solid color, offering no details to what part of the city he was in. The flashing lights, however, were blinking at a seemingly random pattern.

Ra's understood the significance immediately. The flashes varied in length, but they were clearly Morse's Code. Ra's had restarted the video to obtain the full message. It was clever really. Bane was trying to communicate with him one-way blind, so the city-wide broadcast alerted everyone to his intent. All would be focused on the figure of Bane, trying to find a clue on his person as to his location. It was a rather brilliant way to use himself as a distraction while announcing his true message in the literal background.

The police would discover this before too long. The rest of the vigilantes remaining in the city would do the same perhaps. However, whatever meeting they would be expecting would be finished long before they discovered the location.

"Tomorrow night, Warehouse #39, come alone," Ra's spoke to himself. Yes, he would come alone—if he truly believed Bane would be alone as well. Since he would be not, the Demon's Fang would be present in full force. Ubu would be at his side and Talia the same. That meant the boy would come as well. Perhaps Bane would see this as an opening to exploit, one Ra's would allow him to do. Undoubtedly the boy would be hurt, but Bane would see the error in that assumption the moment Ra's blade slid into his throat.

"Alright, Bane; you have called out the Demon. I hope you are prepared to face its wrath."

"Welcome back to GCTV, I'm your host Jack Ryder. We're coming to you live at the Gotham Museum of Art where our man on the streets, Arturo Rodriguez, waits to give you the story. Arturo, fill us in."

Standing in front of the museum, a man in his thirties with chiseled looks and a mop of brown hair held a microphone up to his mouth while giving a winning smile. "It's the eightieth anniversary of the Gotham Museum of Art's grand opening, Jack. While most know this as a destination for their Bat tours, the Museum itself has hosted works of art from all across the world and until this day, supported by grants and people like our viewers.

"This day, eighty years ago, the museum first opened its doors and has given everyone from the highest echelons of the city to the lowest the opportunity to see history as some of the world's greatest artists have had their masterpieces shown here and today is no different. To commemorate, the museum has opened up an exhibit solely for our local artists to have a chance to shine beside Van Gogh, Picasso, and other contemporary artists."

From behind the news desk, eyes trained on the camera, a professionally-dressed Jack Ryder said, "That sounds like something for the whole family to enjoy, Arturo." The news broadcaster spoke as if his colleague was standing right in front of him, which he wasn't. For the viewers at home, a small square in the corner of the screen was reserved for the reporter who replied as if he was continuing the conversation.

"It is, Jack. The museum has given a discount to families so the more of the little ones you bring, the more you get to save. It these troubles time, the museum hopes to give everyone a ray of hope and allow everyone a chance to get lost with what the best of humanity has to offer."

"Could you tell us a little more about the museum's history?" Though most people could care less about such a thing, the story still had three minutes left to fill up and needed some filler. There was no guarantee that there would be any breaking news to put an end to it.

"I certainly can, Jack. Founded by—"

There was a loud bang, Arturo ducking immediately and cries from people nearby taking up the broadcast's audio.

"Arturo, are you still there?" It was noticeable that Ryder was sitting up straighter, concern coloring his voice.

"I'm still here, Jack. I'm reporting that I heard some kind of explosion. I'm looking around—" Arturo was matching action to word as he looked to his left, his right and behind him frantically though somehow keeping his composure, "—but I'm not seeing any signs of damage. I…" he trailed off, breaking professionalism for a second as something off screen caught his eye.

"What's going on, Arturo? Talk to us," Ryder pressed, and you could see that the news journalist's body was brimming with energy. It was almost as if he wanted to be there at the scene with his fellow reporter, but was doing everything in his power to stay behind the desk.

"I'm hearing something about the roof," Arturo told his colleague, eyes back on the camera before turning and looking up. "I'm going to see—up there! There's somebody on the roof!" The view of the camera left Arturo so that it could zoom in on a dark figure that stood on the ledge of the large building. "Are you seeing this Jack?"

"We are, Arturo. Tell us what you can make out." That came out more as an order than a request, but there was an urgency to report as much of this breaking news story that had almost fallen right into their laps as it were.

"There's somebody standing on top of the museum. Jack, I'm hearing the people around me, and they're saying what I know the folks at home are thinking. It's hard to make out what I am seeing, but our camera has better sight than I do. Can you make something out of it?"

"What we're seeing is a person, looks like a male, and all dressed in black," Ryder picked up immediately. "It's hard to make out from this angle, but it looks like this man is wearing something on his head, something with horns."

"I don't think I need to remind you, Jack, that this is the spot where the Batman was first spotted several years ago. I don't think that this is a coincidence."

"Are you saying that we are witnessing the return of Gotham City's most infamous vigilante? A person whom the police have orders to arrest on sight despite the many times he has saved this city from certain disaster?" Ryder pressed.

"I am noting the similarities between now and what happened back then. We may be seeing the return of the vigilante after an almost four month absence. I think everyone has seen the video of the Batman being thrown into the streets by the criminal Bane and I know there was debate on whether or not that was the end for him. We may be seeing an end to that debate tonight."

"Attention Gotham City!" a loud voice boomed, stopping any further reporting between the two journalists. "Your dark night is at its end! Your Dark Knight has returned to deliver you from this nightmare that has become your reality! I issue a declaration of war on those who would take my city from me, from the lowly criminals, to Bane himself! You may rest in safety once again, my people! You are under my protection once more!"

"Did you get that, Jack?" Arturo demanded. "It seems that whoever that is is claiming to be the Batman himself. For those who are tuning in, this was not something that the Batman did when he was first spotted here."

"It sounds like he is challenging the criminal Bane, the man who is said to have broken the Bat and has been assaulting our streets for the past four months," Ryder confirmed what their broadcast had picked up. "Arturo, we're going to need you to hang tight and stick with this. For everyone at home, we're going to keep you updated on this story as it develops. Stay tuned."

At the precinct, many officers had gathered around the TV, gawking at the image on the screen. One of them was the Commissioner who had only caught the last couple minutes of the broadcast, a frown marring his face.

Then one officer asked, "Do you think it's him? Is he back?"

Breaking his gaze from the screen, Gordon ordered, "We need to get to that museum and cordon it off."

"Is something wrong, Commissioner?" another officer asked, his voice uncertain.

Giving that officer a look, Gordon stated, "That's not him."

Another Gordon happened to be watching the breaking story, this one viewing through a computer monitor. Already, the internet was exploding with speculation, but none of it confirmed anything.

Barbara ignored it all. Though she automatically noticed how familiar this looked, her guts was saying nothing was as it seemed. As a former Batman groupie, she wanted this to be as real as possible. As Oracle, she knew better than to trust her eyes.

So she would get some eyes on the ground.

"Everyone, you need to get down to the Gotham Museum of Art. Something is happening and you're going to want to see it for yourself," she said over the radio, putting the rest of the Network on alert.