Ernestina, Eris, Aequitas: to obtain that which is just we must ask that which is unjust.

Zsasz stalks the streets. Nabokov rules the Narrows. In the weeks after Rachel's death, Alfred and Lucius watch Bruce begin his descent as the Dark Detective. But what do Dr. Fries and Dr. Isley have planned for Gotham? In the aftermath of the Joker, the GCPD find their faith-and spirits-tested in the face of growing violence, Rachel's death, and a husband's brutal murder.

Gotham State University

March 2029

Ling Chan was calling it a night.

It was Friday. Nearly Saturday, and the Program Director for the GSU School of Kinesiology was just now heading home. These long office sessions were terrible for posture and ergonomics, despite the best in modern advances in occupational health. It didn't help she'd forgotten her walking shoes at Max Stanfield's apartment last night, either. These four inch, ostrich-skin Ugg pumps did wonders for her height and her graceless body build (research had shown them to increase perceived femininity by shortened stride length, increased paces per minute, and altered axial skeletal movement) yes; but they were the equivalent of professional hypocrisy to be worn as anything other than a fashion statement.

And at forty-three, Ling couldn't afford to be anything but. There were thousands of intelligent, attractive women on campus, many much younger than she that any potential mate could chose. While the majority of her female (and quite feminist) colleagues would scorn to know she'd undergone breast augmentation, most of them were either Caucasiod or Negroid in build, with ample buttocks and breasts. Her aging figure was slim, but stocky, lacking in waistline and feminine curves. She hadn't done the drastic procedures the media mocked, no; but she'd gone from wearing a brassiere for ornamentation only during intimate moments to a respectable B cup, and she and her partners had found that improvement to be quite satisfactory.

She'd had work done on her face, too, but not the kind a celebrity might chose. She'd already had her hairline, eyebrows, and maxillary areas lasered, and a rhinoplasty had decreased the upturn and width of the base of her nose. She still refused the blepharoplasty and any suggestion of botox. Ling wanted to look more aesthetically pleasing, not younger or less Chinese. She was quite content with her cultural heritage and age, and quite proud: Age gave her maturity and wisdom. Truth be told, the hint of greying that framed her now-more-feminine face was nothing more than artistic highlights.

Ling Chan had possessed an old soul since childhood. Even in her twenties she'd preferred the company of older men. The graying and the glasses made her seem more approachable, given her quite intimidating social status. And perhaps—in a few years—she'd actually need a prescription, rather than mere artistic lenses.

She was older. Respected. Tenured. And the reserved parking in the faculty garage wasn't far. She passed Isley on the way out, stopping for brief but polite conversation as her back and metotarsal joints ached in protest.

"You're here late, Dr. Chan."

"And yet here you are, Pamela," she nodded kindly. "And in the wrong department, too." She'd always liked the younger Isley woman, respected her passion if not her means. Ling Chang thought that protest belonged in polite articles and petitions, but Pamela Isley was young, vibrant, and bristling with idealism. She was also reknown for her politics and radicalism. After the Fear Night incident, when she'd been arrested, Ling had been one of the few GSU Board members to fight for her release and return to tenure. Some still considered her a terrorist, and some went out of their way to snub her.

"I was working on a petition."

"They still plan to proceed, then?" Isley's pioneering work in gluco-cryostasis had been promising for medication storage and organ transplantation, then the food industry had gotten wind of the new "Lazarus" stabilizer, and the animal agriculture industry and lobby had stopped at nothing to get their hands on it.

Pamela Isley was a vegan and a member of PETA and Greenpeace. Ling worried she'd destroy her lab and research rather than giving in. She'd even agreed to a compromise, to sell the patent to companies that were third-party certified vegan, organic and sustainable to increase public access to nutritious frozen foods…

But the Board, and the government, were putting enormous pressures—and lawsuits—against her.

"They've always planned to proceed. This pause has always been merely a farce for the media and their PR departments."

"I wish you luck with it, Pamela. I truly do."

The feisty, red-haired woman gave a tired smile. "I know. Wait—are you going out there alone?"

It was raining. Dark. Silent. Even the usual crowd of drunken, boisterous undergraduates had turned in. The garage was less than a block away. She'd resisted the proposal to build an adjoining walkway into the Thomas Wayne Faculty Building. The three-point-two million dollars the proposed "historic" walkway would cost the university could be better put to research and education. Not to mention the proposed construction would take place in her hall. Professor Ling Chan and the Kinesiology Department as a whole could not be expected to work to the sound of jackhammers and table-saws.

"Be careful," Isley warned, then excused herself.

Ling Chan had no fears or worries. GSU had been her home since graduate school in 2012.

Campus students had a volunteer-led safety escort service. Campus police were always available to pick female party-goers up from fraternities, no questions asked or ID required. And the Thomas Wayne Faculty complex had security willing to walk with both male and female staff alike to their vehicles…

But she was older, purposeful, not intoxicated. A poor target for a victim of mugging or sexual assault. GSU was located downtown, and most of those security measures were to protect students against drunk drivers and opportunistic date rape. During her thirteen years of tenure, Ling had only used the safety services for personal protection to get home on Fear Night. She was a foreign national, apolitical, and had nothing for fear from Meroni, and she had positively refused to let that sociopath styling himself 'The Joker' intimidate her.

It was late. It was raining. If she got back to Max's apartment soon enough, they might be able to enjoy themselves before falling asleep…

The media would label it as an act of carelessness and folly, the GCPD would warn people to be aware of their surroundings. Faculty and students alike would praise her steadfast spirit and bravada. And the public? The public would be reminded that the blood of one good man was hardly a talisman of protection. The Joker might be behind bars, but the streets of Gotham City were far from safe.

…Nature, after all, abhors a vacuum.

Professor Ling Chan left the building as she always had done. She had no way of predicting that one of Gotham's most notorious serial killers would be waiting for her in the darkness.

AN: Odysseus Rises is up and running as a separate Fic, with weekly updates promised!

I hope you've all enjoyed this intro. I am experimenting with uploading these longer, non-Paltron centric chapters either as separate entities, or as multiple smaller chapters (Title part 1, Title part 2 etc.) within the scope of Ernestina itself.

This would allow for shorter time between updates, as well as lessen the amount of reading per chapter to a much more manageable sum. I'm hoping to limit all chapters to less than 3,000 words whenever possible.I'm also using one character viewpoint per chapterlet if these non-Paltron fics remain separate.I'm hoping this will allow me to provide you all with high quality yet still timely updates, as well as help me to build a large buffer of publishable chapters for when the creativity fails or schoolwork calls.

I'd love to hear feedback on which—if any—of these strategies you as readers might prefer.