As of now, Fallen Olympus has reached the 100 review mark, making it the first for this series—and subsequently the most reviewed story—between myself and Anonymous Void. We'd like to thank everyone that has read and reviewed this story to reach this point. We hope you continue to read and enjoy these stories going forward.

The light of the ankh brightened up the cave. Batman and Batwoman walked out of it, then just as it suddenly appeared, it disappeared.

"There is much to do," Dr Fate had said just before he opened the gateway to send them back. "Order has been upended by chaos. We must figure out what chaos has been wrought before we strike."

Obtaining intelligence was not a bad idea. It still didn't alleviate the dark mood that had settled on the vigilante. He had been stuck outside of space and time, left helpless as the world was attacked. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, one he had every desire to get rid of. No amount of fact finding was going to fix that.

Batwoman had removed her mask, Cassandra's concerned features appearing as she activated the computer. She paused as she stared at the monitor, their last search still present on the screen. Almost hesitantly, she began typing on the keys.

Soon, the screen was split into nine different squares, three up and three across. Only two of them were of major news networks while the rest looked like CCTV cams.

"Why don't you access more stations?" Batman asked as he came to stand next to the dark-haired woman.

"The only media groups that are allowed to air are ones sympathetic to the Regime," she answered him, keeping her eyes on the screen. "That left two of them and even then, I'm not expecting much more than 'everything's fine, nothing to see here' stories."

Glancing to the screen, the dark-clad man saw his protege was not wrong. It was very obvious when compared to the CCTV cams that were showing various wreckage in cities throughout the world. Right now, the television anchors were saying an alien invasion had been turned away by Superman and the Regime and that everything was okay.

How the heck was the reporter in Kent not shrieking with horror?

"It looks like the damage is minimal, at least to civilian quarters," Cassandra said after awhile. "It's almost a shame that I can't look up Regime headquarters; those are all constantly under surveillance by Cyborg."

Which meant she was unwilling to hack those networks to look. That was fine though, it was best to be cautious. If this Cyborg did half of what Cassandra said he could, then he would be on high alert for any intrusion in the digital realm. Now wasn't the time to carelessly expose themselves.

"Is there any way we can get some live intel?" he asked then, not bothering to look away from the screen.

Out of the corner of his eye, he observed Cassandra smirking as she looked to him. "The Bat Underground has some of the best reconnaissance forces in the world. When using computers became dangerous for us, we learned how to scout out locations the old fashioned way. I've no doubt those guys are already looking into what the Regime is doing."

Batman nodded his approval. "Then we need to go out there too. What's the location of your base?"

"Right where it's always been: Neo-Gotham," she replied. "It's deep in the old subway tunnels; that's mostly because it was lined with lead when it was first built, so Superman couldn't see us."

"Take me there." The vigilante had turned and began marching towards his car. He frowned at the sight of all of the bat guano on it, but as long as it ran, that was all that mattered.

"Where are you going?"

Batman turned his head to the woman. "Going to the car, what does it look like?"

"Uh, no, we're not using that," she told him bluntly. "Do you realize how much that sticks out? I haven't spent all of this time trying to keep a low profile only to blow my cover because of a car."

That caused him to stop. "Then how do you suggest we get to town?"

"The way I always have."

Was there such a thing as a Bat-sedan?

The car was old and banged up, painted with an ugly color of tan. It had seen much better days around 2024. Yet, considering where they were going, it was perfect camouflage.

Cassandra glanced to the passenger seat, seeing a stoic Bruce Wayne sitting stiffly in the seat. His upbringing—she had once been told it was called being blue-blooded—was really shining through his features. He looked out of place in this hunk of junk.

They hadn't completely removed their respective armors, just the cowls. Both vigilantes had trench coats over their suits, their masks being held by Bruce. Cassandra was in the driver's seat, driving the car to their destination. There was almost a sense of wrongness with this setup. Since she had been a young girl, it was Batman that had driven them wherever they needed to go. With their positions reversed, it just didn't seem right.

Currently, they were in the Bowery of Neo-Gotham. It wouldn't be too long until they reached their destination: the abandoned subway. However, they weren't going to use the station entrance—that had been sealed up years ago by the city—read: the Insurgency—under the guise that it was a public safety hazard. If the Regime ever found out about the place, it certainly would be.

Spotting a familiar alley, she turned the car into it, driving down it until she slowed to a stop. "Wait here," she told her passenger before she opened the car door and climbed out. Walking around the car, she headed for a steel door, a power box protruding from the wall next to it. Stopping in front of the power box, she opened it to reveal a small keypad inside. Punching in a numeric code, a green light flickered on before the door began to roll upwards.

Quickly, Cassandra moved back to the driver's side of the car, climbing back in. Once the door was high enough for them to enter, she drove the car in, entering what was best described as an empty garage. The door behind them began to roll down, coming to a complete close moments later.

They sat in the car then, Cassandra waiting while Bruce's eyes were darting from side to side. It was clear he was expecting something. That something did happen as a mechanical groaning sound was made and the room began to rise up around them. Soon, concrete walls surrounded them as a new ceiling slid from one side of the shaft to the other overhead.

Cassandra held a hand out to her passenger and Bruce handed over her mask. Pulling it over her head, she waited out the odd sensation her red-haired wig gave her as it meshed down on her natural dark locks. It would go away eventually, and you would think she'd be used to it by now, yet it hadn't. Glancing to her right, her partner had his own cowl on, Batman's stoic expression on his face.

Their descent ended soon after, revealing the old Gotham subway. It looked a heck of a lot different than it had in his day. Instead of old subway trains or rail lines being present, the entire place was filled with men and women milling about. Towers of crates and box mingled with tables, which had various office supplies on them. The hub was teeming with energy.

Batwoman got out of the car then, followed by Batman. Both paused long enough to pull off their trench coats and toss them back into the car, the sound of car doors slamming shut echoing soon after. The red-haired vigilante didn't say a thing nor gestured for her guest to follow her, he just did.

As they entered the frenzy, Batwoman couldn't help but notice several people pausing as they saw her, then directly focused on Batman. It had been that way when she had been Batgirl. She could give people pause, but the fabled Dark Knight sucked up all of the attention, freezing them where they stood. It was a sight she realized she had missed.

Right now, though, she was on the lookout for one individual specifically. If there was anyone compiling what was going on, it was a nondescript forty year old man who looked more like he belonged in an office building then a rebel base. She found him at his usual workbench, his balding head leaning over what looked like a blueprint, reading it with glasses over his eyes.

"McGinnis," she called out, causing the man to look up. Just like everyone else, he spotted her, then immediately looked to the giant bat over her shoulder. His hand fell to a sidearm at his side, ready to pull it out at a moment's notice.

"Who's that?" he demanded warily, his eyes darting between the two Bats as they came to a stop in front of him.

"This is Batman," the red-haired vigilante answered, "and that's all you need to know. He'll be working with us for the time being." She then looked to her comrade to continue the introduction. "This is Warren McGinnis, our top intelligence officer."

Predictably, Batman didn't say a word.

"Are you sure we can trust him?" Warren asked, raising his other hand up as he adjusted his glasses on his face.

"Yes, you can." Batwoman leaned forward, a stern look on her face. "And you will."

"Sorry, Batwoman, but you know better than anyone we can't just accept anybody's word, including yours. I'm gonna need—"

Batman leaned forward then, a similar look on his face as hers. "Yes, you will."

Warren McGinnis looked between the two Bats before moving his free hand to point at Batman while keeping his eyes on Batwoman. "You've been training someone, haven't you?"

A smirk appeared on her face. "Actually, it's the other way around."

Again, the balding man looked between the two. "You got this from him?" He then shook his head before sagging his shoulders in defeat. "Alright, I believe you. What can I do for you?"

"Both of us have been out of the loop thanks to an unexpected interloper," Batwoman started. "I want to know what's going on with the Regime."

"What isn't happen?" McGinnis turned to the table, placing his hands on top of it. "We're still piecing things together, but we've learned through our sources in the Regime that the attack was committed by some group called the Red Lantern Corps and they did some serious damage." He then gestured to the blueprint. "This is the blueprint for one of the Regime's garrisons in Neo-Gotham and right now it's decimated. Whatever those aliens were, they wiped all out of Superman's grunts with ease, even with the 5-U-93-R. More reports are coming in of the same thing across the world of the garrisons being massacred."

That got Batwoman's attention. "You mean the shocktroopers are all gone?"

"Not all, but most." McGinnis then reached for a manila folder that was at the upper corner of the table. Pulling it closer, he opened it to reveal head shots of various Regime big guns. "The meta-humans also took some losses too. We have it on good authority that King Shark and Major Force were both killed in the fighting. We're trying to find out if anyone else is out."

That caused the vigilante to blink her eyes. As much as she hated to admit it, this alien attack had done some serious damage to the Regime. She looked to Batman for confirmation on this opinion. "Anything else?" the Dark Knight asked instead.

"Well, it's unconfirmed as of yet, but there were distress signals sent out from the Watchtower." McGinnis then looked to Batman before adding, "That's their communication hub. All of their communications were run through there, along with quick evacuations and reserve transports, all of which is under supervision of Cyborg.

"What isn't disputed was there was a bright light in the sky towards the end of the invasion," he continued. "I have people trying to figure out what was in that general area at the time and we believe the Watchtower was in the vicinity. Again, we're trying to get confirmation."

"What about civilian casualties?" Batman questioned then.

Warren moved a hand rub his forehead. "Now that's been the strangest part of all. So far we've come up with minimal casualties. It's almost as if the Regime itself was being targeted. I've had a couple casualties come across my desk, but all of those people had rap sheets a mile long, each one including murder."

"The Regime has murdered people," Batwoman was quick to bring up. "Maybe there's a connection?"

Warren shrugged his shoulders. "Again, we're—"

"Getting confirmation, of course." And again, Batwoman felt as if they had a serious opportunity here. If half of what had been reported was true, the Regime was reeling right now, losing most, if not all of their grunts, a few of their big guns, and potentially the Watchtower. If this wasn't the perfect time to strike, then she didn't know what was.

"So, what do you think, Bat…" she trailed off as she turned to look at her comrade, only to find he wasn't next to her. Her posture straightened out as she jerked her head from left to right, looking around for the dark-clad man.

Where had he gone to?

She heard a chuckle then, causing her to look to McGinnis. "So that's where you get it from," he continued to laugh.

The Red Lantern attacks had been more devastating than anyone could have predicted.

The entire Justice League had been summoned—at least the ones that were still alive. Even Arthur Curry, the Aquaman, had come. For Diana, all it did was highlight just how thin their ranks were.

The Amazonian Princess was still peeved at what had transpired—particularly how it ended. No way should they have allowed the losses they suffered to go unpunished. It was wrong and set a bad example for anyone wishing to do the same.

For now, they were receiving a debriefing from Cyborg. "First thing's first: you may have noticed we have some people missing," he began. "Raven, Killer Frost, King Shark, Major Force, and Volcana were all killed in the invasion. Others we had in reserve were also targeted and killed defending themselves. We also suffered heavy casualties at all our garrisons across the globe. These Red Lanterns went after everyone and everybody."

That part Diana hadn't known. Following the fight in the courtyard, she had Cyborg call out to the rest of the League to get status reports. Her anger and grief had escalated with each name she heard of a fallen comrade. To know that their fellow officers were also targeted was beyond galling.

"And to put the cherry on top of this shit sundae, the Watchtower was destroyed," the cybernetic man finished.

Kal pressed his hands together with the fingers interlocking, holding them before his face as he seemed to slouch in his seat. "This is very troubling news," he spoke after awhile.

"I'm just the messenger," Cyborg was quick to point out.

"And this is only the start," John interjected. "Cyborg obviously needs repairs, we're all beaten and tired, and that isn't even including all of the damage we need to clean up. Don't even get me started on the Insurgency either; no doubt they'll be wanting to take advantage of all this."

Which was another thing. There had been no mention of the Insurgency in any of the reports. Nothing that said they had taken hits themselves. It was as if it had buried itself while the League was fighting to protect them—the cowards.

"Don't forget, those Red Lantern guys could come back," Shazam pointed out. "Their leader got away and there's no telling—"

"He got away?!" John suddenly bellowed, cutting off the young hero. "What do you mean he got away?!"

This needed to be nipped in the bud immediately. "The Red Lantern leader was allowed to leave upon promising to withdraw his forces. That is what ended the conflict without further loss of life," Diana informed the Leaguers.

"All so he can come back and try again?!" the Green Lantern continued to argue. "What ever happen to 'never again'? Huh? This is becoming a second Vandal Savage incident and I don't have to remind you how that turned out."

Diana's face twisted with anger. That was uncalled for and she was going to let him know it. However, before she could say so, Aquaman spoke up. "That does seem out of character for you," he remarked casually, his eyes moving between Kal and Diana languidly.

"It was Kal's decision to allow Atrocitus to leave," the Amazon replied, tilted her head back haughtily.

The incredulous look on John's face silenced him. Shayera had even looked at her in disbelief. "Talk about a twist," Enchantress commented, a trance of humor in her voice.

"If anyone has an issue with my decision, I've only got one thing to say," Kal said then, drawing the full attention of the room to him. "Get over it. I made a tough decision at a difficult time. The enemy we were facing fed off our anger, which only made them stronger. The only way to stop Atrocitus was to make him go away. I'm very well aware of the fact he could come back; in fact, I'm counting on it. We'll be ready next time and then will make him pay for what he's done."

"That is a fine point," Aquaman agreed. "Atlantis was able to fend off these Red Lanterns. We can improve upon those strategies and incorporate them into our overall defense."

"Great idea, Arthur," the Kryptonian commended him. "Now, if there's nothing anyone else has to offer, you can leave."

There was a scowl on John's face, but he obeyed the command, turning around and walking for the door. The others filed after him, leaving only Kal, Diana, and Cyborg. Once the doors closed, the Amazon looked curiously to the mechanical man.

"There is one thing I wanted to tell you," Cyborg said, looking up to Kal. "Since we've brought about world peace, I've had a lot of time on my hands up on the Watchtower. I was working on something that would get us away from having to use people as soldiers."

That piqued Diana's interest. Though she was proud of all who volunteered to help defend Earth, the cost of recruiting and training were exorbitant. To be able to get around that was intriguing.

"Tell me more," Kal ordered, placing his arms down on the armrests so that he could push himself up in his seat.

"I've been calling it the Tornado Project," he explained. "Basically, it would be an android with your standard powers: super-strength, durability, and so on. I just need to work out the bugs and I can have a prototype ready to go."

That sounded pretty good; however, there was one issue Diana could see. "You said you were developing this up on the Watchtower, correct? Wouldn't that mean all of your data was lost when it was destroyed?"

"I worked on it on the Watchtower, but I saved everything onto my internal hard drive," Cyborg replied. "All I need is a place to work on it and a plant to begin production."

"You've got it," Kal decreed. "Do you have a place in mind?"

"Yeah, there's a place in Motor City that's perfect for this. If there's a team we can spare, it'll really kick-start things."

"That might not be doable. Our reserves are depleted, remember."

"Oh, right." Cyborg grimaced. "Then I guess I'm on my own. I'll keep you updated on my progress."

"Do that and be safe."

He was so dead.

Night had come way too soon. The lights from the streetlamps were on, so he had to keep out of sight. There was no telling if the patrols were out, or where they would be. Considering everything that had happened today, the boy was pretty certain they had their hands full.

It was pretty insane. Jaime Reyes had been out with his friends, hitting the arcades, and just having a pretty good day. The weather had been great too, though the meteorologist missed all of the crazy red things that fell from the sky. You would've thought they would've caught that.

Jaime crouched by the wooden fence. He had made it to his neighborhood in spite of all the crazy shit that had happened today. There had been points he wasn't sure he would've made it, but thank God he had. Now, all he had to do was cross this street and reached the house on the other side, and he'd make it scot-free.

Glancing from left to right, the boy didn't see anything coming down the street. Seeing the all-clear, Jaime took off, running as fast as he could. The sound of his footsteps seemed to echo throughout the night, making it louder each time his shoes slapped down on the cement sidewalk and asphalt pavement. His backpack swung from side to side with every step he took, throwing his balance off slightly.

Thankfully, nothing jumped out to stop him and Jaime was at his front door. With his house key in hand, he shoved it into the lock, turned it, then opened the door, and darted inside. The moment he had the lock in place, he let out a sigh.

He had made it home.

A light suddenly clicked on.

"And where were you Jaime Gonzalez Reyes?

Jaime stiffened. Slowly, he turned around to find his mother, still wearing her hospital scrubs, and looking at him with disapproval. "Hey, Mama," he greeted her with false cheer. "I didn't know you were still up."

"And why wouldn't I be? After all, my eldest comes in at God knows what time in the middle of the night—after curfew, might I add—and after the sky rained down red aliens. Where else should I have been, mihijo? In bed asleep?"

"Well...yeah? I mean, you do work long shifts at the hospital."

"That's right, I do. In fact, I had to stay late to make sure everyone that was hurt was taken care of. Then and only then was I able to go home with a police escort so that I wasn't picked up for being late after curfew." Her eyes darkened. "That was over an hour ago."

Jaime gulped. Oh, yeah, this was not going to go over very well.

"Well, ya see, Mama, I was with Brenda and Paco and we...kinda...got...caught up...in all of that."

Gone was his mother's disapproval and she was immediately in front of him, her hands roaming his body roughly. "Oh, my baby? Are you hurt? Dime donde duele. Duele aqui? Que tal aqui?"

When his mother's hand began inspecting his...well, his private parts, that's when Jaime began to resist. "Ay Mama! No me lastimo alli! Stop, stop!"

That didn't stop her, but she didn't force him to take his pants off thankfully. Finding he wasn't any worse for wear, she sighed and wrapped her arms tightly around him, burying his face into her chest. "Oh, mihijo, don't frighten me like that." She then pushed him away, holding him at arm's length. "Now you go wash up and get to bed, okay? We'll talk about this in the morning."

"Okay, Mama." Huh, it seemed he was getting a free pass. Well, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, his father always said. Quickly, he hurried to his room, closing the door behind him. Slipping his backpack off his shoulders, he tossed it at the foot of his bed and jumped onto the mattress, landing on it with his back, bouncing a couple of times.

He sighed as he rested his hands beneath his head, staring up at the ceiling for awhile. Now this, this was heaven. After having to run from alley to alley, watching out for those aliens, he was beat. Who knew running and stopping over and over would tire a person out? It was amazing that he and his friends had gotten out of there when they had, even after...

Jaime's head perked up. That's right! Scrambling over to the edge of his bed, he grabbed his backpack and pulled it closer to him, though it remained on the floor. Unzipping it, he reached in and pulled out a blue bug-looking thing.

Before the aliens had fallen from the sky, he and Brenda and Paco had been crossing a vacant lot when he had tripped over the thing. Not sure what it was, but pretty sure it had to have some value, he picked it up to inspected it when all the craziness happened. He had tossed it into his backpack and forgot about it until now.

Turning it from top to bottom with his hands, the young boy inspected it. From what he could tell, it was all one piece, nothing to indicate it could be taken apart. Rubbing his hands across the surface, he could tell it was slick and polished. Someone had taken pretty good care of this thing before ditching it in the lot.

Well, considering how nice it looked, perhaps he could sell it. He'd go to a pawnshop or some antique store and have it appraised, maybe even sell it. Oh yeah, he liked the sound of that.

There was something troubling about this place. Batman couldn't put his finger on it, but his gut was telling him there was more to this old subway than met the eye.

Wandering through the room—blatantly ignoring the stares he got from the Insurgents—the vigilante scanned the workstations and crates he passed by. On the surface, everything looked like a makeshift base where guerilla operations were planned. That he had expected. What he wasn't expecting was the detail such operations took.

For instance, as he approached a table, he saw a blueprint of what must have been a garrison for the Regime. Multiple X's marked strike points, arrows indicating where each team was supposed to go. That wasn't too concerning. What was were the numbers at various points. They were times, either from a clock, or a timer. From people that were unskilled, in comparison to him, the times suggested were not possible. However, for well-trained teams, they were entirely doable.

Perhaps the number of years this Bat Underground group had been in operation was the reason why. Yet, Batman didn't feel this was the case. Looking away, he saw a long wooden box, its lid crooked to the rest of the box. Approaching it, he knelt next to it and lifted the lid up. Inside he saw bedding with grenades resting within.

He narrowed his eyes at this. Where had they been able to obtain this? Looking up, he noticed a series of the same sized crates stacked neatly next to the one he was examining. From the looks of it, they had a supply of grenades.

It would've been one thing if they had been pilfering these weapons. If that were the case, they wouldn't have as many. If they weren't stealing them, then they were buying them, which indicated they had some sort of funding.

Who was bankrolling this operation?

Standing back up, Batman walked further down the aisle he was in, stopping when he came to a different sized crate. Not hesitating, he grabbed a nearby crowbar and shoved an end beneath the lid. Pulling down on the crowbar, he opened the box up, shoving the lid up higher so he could get a better look.

Inside this crate, he saw strangely-designed weapons. They looked like rifles, except the barrels were elongated and did not have a bullet chamber. What the hell was this?

"There you are!"

Turning his attention away, he saw Batwoman storming up to him. "I've been looking all over for you!" she reprimanded him, a stern look on her face.

He ignored it. "Mind telling me what these are?" he asked, gesturing to the open crate with a hand.

Batwoman looked inside before returning her gaze to him. "That's just the taser guns we use. A late-Gotham vigilante developed it and we've been using them ever since."

A taser gun? Faintly, Batman was reminded of such a weapon. Yet, how were there so many? "Who builds these?"

The woman shrugged her shoulders. "I'm entirely not sure. It was thought best that the leaders not know how the Bat Underground obtained supplies. Since we were the ones going out into the field, all it would take is one of us captured and enough torture to spill."

The Dark Knight stared at her with disapproval. No way would he have just let someone supply him without knowing the details. That was just bad practice; he had taught her that a long time ago, or so he thought. He'd have to give her a refresher course very soon.

"Do you know who's funding this operation?" he inquired then.

"We're not. All of this is obtained by any means that we can."

Batwoman continued to speak, but Batman didn't hear a word of it. It was obvious she hadn't looked into the details. "I highly doubt that," he interrupted her eventually "There's too many of these weapons here for it to be stolen tech. Someone would've noticed by now, especially the Regime. Someone, or someones are paying a lot of money to keep you operational."

His former protege looked at him bewildered. "Do you really think that?"

"I know so. There's too much tech, too much organization for this to be some ragtag team of volunteers."

Suddenly, the sound of clapping startled them. Spinning around, Batman noticed a doorway, darkness pouring out of it. The clapping—slow at first, but growing louder and faster—clearly came from there. The vigilante lowered a hand to his belt, ready to pull out a shuriken at a moment's notice. Soon, a figure emerged through the doorway.

"You never cease to impress me."

The very hairs on Batman's neck raised on end at the sight of a man in a tailored suit, partially covered by a green cloak. A small, approving smile on on his face as his steely blue eyes danced with mirth. The vigilante's hand clenched tightly into fists.

"We meet again, Detective," Ra's al Ghul greeted him. "I believe we have many things to discuss."

To Guest: Cooling their heels, I would imagine. Not that they had much of a choice.