I hope everyone had a Merry Christmas. Sorry for not updating yesterday, but since it was Christmas, AV and I decided to spend time with family and update this story today. Also, Of Earth and Sky will not be updated today, but will resume this Friday. For now, we hope you enjoy this chapter.
Batman had always suspected he hadn't seen the last of Ra's al Ghul. A man didn't live for over seven hundred years without surviving a few brushes with death. Though one could hardly call being consumed by fire as a holy temple collapsed around him a brush of death.
Regardless, no amount of anticipation could have prepared him from staring the Demon's Head down from across the table. After their initial encounter, Ra's had led them into a room for privacy—so that they could talk.
"I assume you have questions as to my well-being, Detective," Ra's al Ghul said after they had stared at each other in silence. They sat at a round table, an assortment of random wooden chairs situated around it. Clearly this was not a locale the distinguished gentlemen was accustomed to by his stiff posture in his seat. He looked out of place in these surroundings.
"To the contrary," Batman replied evenly. "I always knew I'd see you again. You're not someone easily killed."
A small smile appeared on his face. "You were wise to think so, though even you could not anticipated twenty years passing before our fateful reunion."
Batman and Batwoman perked their heads up at that remark. The Demon's Head had made it sound as if he expected to meet the former now. That caused the vigilante to narrow his eyes. There was no way he could've foreseen this situation. What were the chances that he would be thrown through time and someone expecting it to happen? The only way would be to have planned it yourself…
No...not even he could plan that…
There was a twinkle in Ra's eyes. "I see you've begun to touch the truth."
"That's impossible," Batman protested. "Even for you. The technology for time travel doesn't exist."
"That is where you are wrong, Detective. You're the living proof of that."
Batwoman was turning her head, looking from the Dark Knight to the Demon's Head as they challenged each other. "I've clearly walked in on something here," she said, interrupted their back-and-forth. "How is it you two know each other?" She then looked right to Batman. "You've never told me about him before."
The two men didn't look away from each other. "Batwoman," he addressed her first, "this is Ra's al Ghul, leader of a secret assassin organization known as the Demon's Fang. Their main goal is to use global genocide as a means to protect the planet."
"And how do you know this man?" she asked incredulously.
"It seems your former student lacks your deductive reasoning skills," Ra's remarked coolly, causing the woman to look to him. "Your mentor was in my employ many decades ago. He has an intimate knowledge of my many organizations, among other secrets."
Batwoman narrowed her eyes before returning her attention to the dark-clad man. "You and I are going to have a long talk about this."
"But not right now," Batman replied back. "What do you know about my being here, Ra's?"
"That is a story I intend on telling you," the older man said. "I presume your protege has informed you of what has transpired during your absence?"
"For the most part."
"Very good, that will save us some time. My portion of the story involves the last five years." Ra's adjusted himself in his seat. "I will not mince words, I was not completely against Superman's take over of the world. Because of his intervention, many of the actions mankind had taken to destroying the planet had been squashed. The environment was finally beginning to heal after centuries of destruction." A wistful expression appeared on his face. "I was even contemplating retirement."
"So what changed?" Batman asked.
"The Insurgency's last attempt at overthrowing the Regime, lead by that witch associate of yours. Following that failed attempt, Superman began to reverse course on many of his actions, starting with the creature of the 5-U-93-R weapon. The toxic waste produced for the super pill was worse than any pollution created by fossil fuels. I sent an envoy to plead for the Regime to halt their production, but my words fell on deaf ears.
"So I unleashed the full might of my Demon's Fang to stop the production process. Unfortunately, the Regime not only fended off my offensive, but actively began disassembling my organization. My various fangs were captured and killed; those that were able to escape fled into hiding. My assets were seized—the traceable ones that is—and I was forced to go underground."
Ra's sighed then, one that spoke of great grief. "They even killed Talia."
That got Batman's attention. It was sad to say he hadn't thought of Talia in a long time. He hadn't tried to find her after the event at Nanda Parbat, mostly because he had been distracted with returning to Gotham. He hadn't even thought about her in those intervening years.
That saddened him.
"It soon became clear to me that the Regime needed to be dealt with," Ra's continued, his voice returning to its normal tone, and subsequently bringing Batman back to the conversation. "However, a face-to-face confrontation was out of the question. All whom have tried such a strategy had been defeated; so I began to think what the best way to eliminate them. It pains me to say that I was unable to develop a feasible plan.
"I then began studying each and every Regime member, searching for weaknesses to exploit. The Bat Underground happened to be a result of this, a means to an end. Heroes that were not affiliated with the Regime took noticed of the group and began to join it, such as Mr. Queen, the late Jefferson Pierce, and Batwoman. Unfortunately, this too ended in a dead end. I was beginning to wonder if anyone in the Regime had a weakness."
Ra's eyes then lit up, a slow, yet growing glow that began to show on his face. "It was then I realized that they did indeed had weaknesses. I recalled that when you were a member of the Demon's Fang, you had come up with multiple strategies to neutralize each and every meta-human and had enacted a few of those plans to great success."
Out of the corner of his eye, Batman saw Batwoman stare at him in blatant astonishment. "I then commissioned what was left of my League of Assassins to dig up your research at the base in the Himalayas in an attempt to recover those plans."
"Dig up?" the vigilante questioned, raising an eyebrow up.
"When the Regime went after the Demon's Fang, they struck that base first," the older man explained. "Most of it lies in ruin now; which is what my men reported to me. Whatever research you had saved there was effectively lost and the only person with any knowledge was also no more."
Ra's paused as if he were contemplating his next words. "It then occurred to me that if I could not obtained your work, then another means was necessary. While I had theorized you may have some countermeasures in your cave's computer, I did not wish to corrupt them in the event that you installed a protocol to destroy them in the event of an improper access. To get them, I needed you."
Batman hardened his stare. "What did you do?" he said accusingly.
"Considering that you were confirmed deceased, I came up with the idea of trying to bring a version of you. It has long since been theorized that a multiverse exists and I researched the possibility of reaching out to such realms. Unfortunately, the technology needed for such a venture does not exist."
A grim smile then appeared on Ra's face. "However, in my research, I discovered a means of bending time and potentially transporting someone from one point in time to another. Using the limited resources I had at my disposal, I was able to create what you would consider crude time machines. Two of the designs proved to be useless, but the third did as it was constructed. However, due to its size, it only had enough power for one trip per use. That was the price that had to be paid in order to make it mobile."
"How large was the initial design?"
"The original design would have filled the wall behind me and be easily destroyed were it to be found."
"Then why didn't you try to improve upon the smaller design?" the vigilante questioned.
"Unfortunately, the Regime had found out what I was up to and intervened. I was barely able to escape with my life and the only working prototype. With my resources and time running out, I had no choice but to act. Assembling the last of my men loyal to me, I selected one to make the trip."
Ra's then leaned forward in his seat, clasping his hands together on top of the table. "Now, as you can imagine, time travel is a very disruptive endeavor. There was great fear that if someone goes into the past, they can change the future with little effort; that is the prevailing theory at the science academy in Neo-Meterpolis. In order to avoid this risk, I realized that whomever went back in time needed to limited their influence on the timeline as much as possible."
Batman copied Ra's action, leaning forward in his seat in interest. "How were you able to do that?"
"The factory in Erie," he replied succinctly. "I knew that you would be in that location at the time of Vandal Savage's plot to take over the United States. I sent my man to that factory and had him attached the time machine to the bomb. Because the machine needed a vast amount of energy to operate, the machine would need to use the explosive power of the Canidite to power it and transport its user to this time."
"But there wasn't another person in the factory," the vigilante was quick to point out. "I was the only one in there…"
No, that wasn't right. When he had been searching for the bomb, he had found a body outside of the office it was kept in. A body that had been killed by cyanide poisoning and wearing an outfit similar to his.
"The man I found," he suddenly spoke, which caused an approving look to appear on Ra's face. "He had taken cyanide and was dressed in a cheap knockoff version of my suit. That was your man?"
"Correct, Detective. Seeing as I was plucking you out of the time stream, the likelihood of altering something was great. So I had my man dress much like you do; I even went to the lengths of obtaining your dental records and altering his teeth to match your own. It was a painful process, I admit, but the result was that the timeline was not irrevocably altered."
Batman found himself leaning back in his chair. The level of planning Ra's had gone into was mind-numbing. Yet, a sick feeling was welling up within him. "That means I'm stuck in this future," he spoke after awhile.
"Not necessarily." Sharpening his attention on Ra's, he waited for the older man to say, "It is possible to construct another time machine, but not with the Regime present. They'll stop at nothing to keep you from returning to your present."
"What makes you say that?"
It was Ra's turn to raise an eyebrow. "They are currently in power. Their way of thinking is much like my own; if I were in their position, I would ensure that no one would take my power away from me. They are the same."
"Or, what you mean is you won't send me back unless I help you," the dark-clad man shot back.
"If you wish to view the situation this way, by all means," Ra's responded, humor laced in his voice. "It doesn't matter what you think, as of now you are stuck in this time period. To get home, you must stop the Kryptonian and his allies. Will you do this?"
Out of the corner of his eyes, Batman could see Batwoman eyeing him. A part of him only wanted to get out of this hellhole; yet, he knew in his gut that something needed to be done. He demanded it of himself.
"Now that I know all of this, why not send me back to my own time now?" he suggested. "I can make sure all of this never happens."
"A worthy suggestion, Detective. In fact, that was one of my contingencies should our current status not improve. However, all of the required technology I would need to construct another time machine is in the hands of the Regime."
Which meant if he wanted to go home, he had to help overthrow the Regime. "Then I guess I'm in," he said after a moment.
"Excellent!" Ra's then stood up from his seat, pushing his chair back with his legs. "There is much that needs to be done and so little time to do it in."
"What's our move?" Batwoman asked as she watched the Demon's Head walk around the table and towards the door.
"First, we need to create a strike team," Ra's told her. "Which means we need to recruit the last of the heroes not yet affiliated with the Regime. Once we have our team, we can move."
"Is there anyone you have in mind?"
Ra's had quite a few people in mind.
Yet, none of them interested Cassandra more than the man in front of her. Batman was diligently going over a file of someone called Mirror Master. He seemed oblivious to her stare, which she did so openly.
It had been a long time since they had fallen out of the Inner Sanctum of the Court of Owls, but she had liked to think she had known the man quite well. Now though, she realized she didn't know him at all. All of this time, he had come up with plans to take out each and every Justice League member, and not just one a piece, but dozens.
How she wished she had known that so many years ago.
He had been succinct in his explanations, about how he had come up with the countermeasures, how Ra's al Ghul had brainwashed him into using them against the then-heroes of the world, and how he had watched this alleged Immortal Man go down in the flames of an enraged Goddess. To be honest, she didn't really care about his time as an assassin; she had known he had that training from the moment she had met him. His fighting style had indicated as much.
That he had taken out the Justice League, that was huge. She could sense a turning point here. If they could use his countermeasures and neutralize the Regime, this ongoing nightmare would be over. Failing that, if they returned Batman to the past, well, he could preempt this entire thing.
She rather liked that idea.
"Why aren't you reading?" the dark-clad man asked, never once removing his eyes away from Mirror Master's profile.
"I don't need to read any of these," Cassandra answered him. In truth, she really didn't need to. These were the same files she had seen when she first joined the Bat Underground—to think it was another, how did the Bat put it, a Fang? Yes, a Fang. To think this resistance movement was another Fang for the man called the Demon's Head was shocking.
But then, Superman lobotomizing her had been shocking too.
"Then tell me who these people are," Batman ordered as he closed his file, looking up to her. Cassandra had removed her mask, seeing no need to keep it on while in his company. In fact, she wouldn't have been surprised if Ra's al Ghul knew her identity as well. The way he referred to her as Batman's protege hinted as much.
"Well, this...Mirror Master? No one's seen him in years. He's either dead, or hiding in one of his mirror universes. He's out." Cassandra even grabbed the file and tossed it aside, caring very little where it landed. "One person we need is Oliver Queen. I think you know who he is."
"We've met," he acknowledged. "I had the suspicion he was Green Arrow, but I hadn't gotten around to determining it for certain. How do you know him?"
"Aside from us working together? He had been one of Superman's loudest critics early on. Superman exposed his identity to destroy him. Queen's taken that pretty personally."
Batman's face hardened. Apparently, he was on Queen's side of that argument. Deciding to continue, she said, "He's one of the last people willing to fight the Regime until the very end. If he knows what we can do, he'll be all in."
"If you can get him in, fine." Batman then reached for another file, opening it. Cassandra just barely caught the name on the cover, a Michael Holt. "I think he's some sort of computer hacker," she informed him. The dark-clad man merely looked to another page, staring at it before closing the file.
"We'll need Holt," he said, passing the file to her, much to the dark-haired woman's surprise.
"What makes you think we can use him?" she asked, not even bothering to open the folder. "What, you think we can use him to counter Cyborg?"
"Something like that."
Cassandra didn't bother to hide her snort. Oh yeah, a computer hacker going up against the most advanced computer in the solar system and the hacker was going to win? She had a hundred-to-one odds on the cyborg. "Then you're the one to recruit him," she told him.
Batman didn't respond, merely reaching for another file. Cassandra saw the name and immediately spoke up, "That's Ted Kord; don't bother with him, he's dead."
"What were his capabilities?" he questioned, ignoring her statement as he looked into the file.
The woman blew air out of her mouth in annoyance, causing some strands of her hair to flutter in the air. "Basic martial arts, genius-level intellect. He basically was a smarter version of Dick Grayson. His last mission, he was trying to obtain some artifact that he thought would give us an edge over the Regime. Cyborg got to him at the Texas-Mexico border."
"What artifact was he after?"
"I believe it was a scarab, Detective."
Cassandra turned her head to regard Ra's al Ghul. The man had returned to the room and he was closing the door behind him. "I seem to recall wanting that artifact as well," the older man remarked.
"Elaborate."
"As I recall, it was a mystical artifact dating back to Ancient Egypt. It was said this blue scarab could grant its wielder immeasurable power. I sent an excavation team to an area that I once believed housed this artifact, but the team came back empty-handed."
Yet, Kord thought it existed? Huh, that would've come in handy.
"So, Detective, tell me who you've taken a liking to."
Batman glanced to Cassandra before returning his attention to Ra's. "Oliver Queen is a candidate. I also want to bring in Michael Holt."
Ra's started at the two. "Only two?" he questioned, a hint of disapproval in his tone.
"If I had any idea on how to get ahold of Dr. Fate, I'd include him as well," the vigilante added.
That got the man's attention. "You've come across the good doctor, I presume. He would be an excellent addition to our task force, though I believe that is nothing more than wishful thinking."
"Do you have anyone to add?"
"I do, actually, but none of them you would be inclined to work with."
Batman's face ever so slightly hardened. "Assassins."
All he received in response was a nod of confirmation. In turn, this caused Batman's eyes to narrow. Cassandra knew before the words came out of his mouth what his response would be. "Then you're right—no assassins."
"Need I remind you that we are outnumbered," Ra's pointed out. "We do not have the luxury of morality in our recruitment, not if we wish to succeed."
Cassandra looked to her mentor. His face was resolute in his resolve. "No assassins, Ra's, not if you want my cooperation."
The older man narrowed his eyes. The two stared at each other, tension mounting in the room. It was nearly suffocating. Fortunately, Ra's gave a small bow of his head. "Very well, Detective."
Feeling it was best to move this conversation along, the young woman said, "So far we've agreed on Oliver Queen and a Michael Holt for the team."
"Then you had better track down Mr. Queen," Ra's responded, any good humor absent from his face. "While I agree at his inclusion, convincing him to return will be a great task."
Realizing just what Ra's meant, Cassandra started to feel that perhaps she should've kept her mouth shut.
Sometimes it paid to be a former billionaire.
It was with tired muscles and tired bones that Ollie set his bow and quiver on the rather messy coffee table. Stacks of magazines and dirty plates covered a good chunk of the table, save for the one spot his equipment nestled into. With a weary groan he collapsed onto his couch, resting his arms on top of the cushions.
The same could be said for most of this modest apartment. Thanks to his...sigh…former ownership of Queen Industries, Ollie had a rather nice nest egg up until Superman and his cronies stripped him of his company and most of his assets. While Ollie was all for paying his fair share, taking his livelihood was something else entirely.
Thankfully, he had kept some things off the books—namely his Green Arrow operation. Say what you wanted about him—and there was a lot that could be said, a good deal of it was negative—he knew how to cover his tracks and apparently it was good enough to keep the Regime from finding out about his safe houses and funds. It pained him to admit that the reason he even had some of these things was because he had been less than honest about their purchases and hoarding. Kinda put him in that same bracket as those dishonest businessmen the world over.
Still, it kept him alive, so he wasn't losing too much sleep about it.
However, there was one thing he couldn't bring with him that he was missing right about now: kitchen staff. He missed someone cooking for him, bringing him his food, cleaning up after him, the works. It was a lifestyle he had become accustomed to and that had gone away with just about everything else. Probably didn't help that he was a wanted man too—that really cut down on the number of people looking to you as a prospective employer. That meant he had to cook his own food.
Which he would do later...much, much later. All he wanted to do right now was to sink into the cushions of his old, ripped up couch and maybe go into a coma. He would've liked that.
So naturally that was when company dropped by.
His first sign was the feel of a breeze blowing through the window. Considering he rarely opened the windows, that told him someone had been here, or was still here. He didn't make a sudden move since he didn't want whoever was here to know that he knew they were here. Let them make the first mistake.
"I was expecting someplace less messy."
Ollie glanced over his shoulder. Sitting on a stool by the kitchen counter was Batwoman. Yeah, she didn't look like she belonged here at all. "You know, I don't recall asking for company tonight," he told her, turning his head to stare at his blank television set. "Me and just about the rest of the world had a rough day today."
"The Red Lantern Attacks," the redhead acknowledged. "I don't suppose you know the damage done."
"Well, if you discount one pyromaniac of a meta being ripped apart, no, I really don't." This time, Ollie leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. He could still hear Volcana's screams, see the blood that flew in the air as those Red Lantern things tore her to pieces. He had seen and done a lot in his life, but that was one thing he wished he hadn't seen.
"What if I were to tell you the Watchtower is gone?"
Ollie's eyes blinked. "What do you mean gone?" he asked as he turned right back around to look at the vigilante.
"As in blown up, destroyed, no longer hovering above us like an angel of death." Batwoman paused. "Do I need to go any further?"
"No, no, I think you covered it all. What does that have to do with you breaking into my apartment?"
"Aside from the Regime's top communications hub being blown to bits, not to mention I have it on good authority that their ranks have been decimated." She then leaned forward on her stool. "I believe we have an opportunity to tear down the Regime once and for all."
Ollie stared at her before he snorted. "Yeah, it sounds good in theory, doesn't it?" he retorted. "Unfortunately for you, I was there at our last 'opportunity.' We threw everything we had into it and it ended the same way all of our other attempts did. Sorry to say this, but I'm gonna have to pass."
This didn't seem to upset the redhead, much to the blond man's surprise. In fact, he was pretty sure she was expecting this answer. What, was this some sort of courtesy call before she plunged head first into whatever insanity she was going to do?
"Tell me something," Batwoman said then. "What would you be able to do if you had foolproof plans that could take down each and every member of the Regime?"
"Take down the Regime, obviously," the archer retorted. "Now you tell me something: if you have these so-called plans, why haven't you used them yet? Could've saved everyone a whole lot of time and grief."
"That's because I only just came across these plans," she responded. "To be more precise, I found a person that has developed these plans."
"Oh, you found someone." Ollie began clapping his hands in a sardonic fashion. "Well, I hope you two crazy kids have a ball with that. Mind telling me his name? That way I know what to put on your tombstones."
That got a reaction out of the redhead as she narrowed her eyes at him. "He's not my boyfriend. He's practically my father."
"So you prefer older gentlemen. Good to know."
"You do realize I can kick your ass any time I want to, right?"
"And I'll be sure to get my licks in." Ollie gave her a look. "Now enough with the pissing contest. I'm an old guy who gets cranky when he doesn't get to bed on time."
She continued to glare at him. Then, "Whenever you're in a less frosty mood, come to the old Gotham Subway. I know you know where to go. At the very least, just come to the meeting. If we can't sell you there, feel free to walk away."
The blond man dropped the back of his head on top of the couch cushion. "Ugh, you're kidding me, Kid. What about—"
As he raised his head up, Batwoman was gone. Damn it, she pulled that stupid trick on him. If he wasn't convinced the old Batgirl was dead, he would've sworn this was her all grown up. Shifting himself on the couch, he got comfortable, leaning his head on the back of the couch again so that he could look up at the ceiling, arms crossed in front of his chest.
Despite everything that had happened, even today, that woman still kept up hope. It was admirable, but for only so long. When Jefferson had died, he was sure she was going to pack it in.
He closed his eyes. Now that he thought about it, really thought about it, Batwoman wasn't one to throw herself into flights of fancy. She usually committed when she felt the cause was worthy. There were risks to be sure, but nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?
Wait, why did it sound like he was trying to convince himself? There was no way what she said was true. No one had been able to come up with a way to take out any of the Regime's members. Those Red Lanterns had murdered one person that he knew of and allegedly destroyed the Watchtower. He needed more proof than someone's word if he was going to stick his head out again.
Yet, what would it hurt? If this meeting had something to offer, perhaps an actual chance of freeing this world from tyranny, could he really ignore it? Could he look himself in the mirror if he knew he had set out perhaps the very last chance this world had?
Ollie sighed. No, no, he could not. He needed to see if this venture was worth the effort. If he came away with this being some sort of wishful thinking, then he was out. He couldn't fault himself for not joining a bad plan. He could if it turned out to work and he had chosen to hide in this crappy apartment and he had the chance to help.
"Ollie, you better be sure about this," he muttered to himself as he forced himself off of the couch. "You rather like living and would like to keep it that way."
Before he knew it, he had his quiver back on and bow in his hands and was at the window. Better close this up before he forgot to. There was no telling if anyone else would want to break in—you know, aside from crazy ass Bats.
To the first Guest reviewer: Thanks!
To the second Guest reviewer: Thank you. AV and I have a few more stories planned, which I'll go into more detail at the conclusion of this story.