Justice: An Arbitrator's Journal

by Deadi1025

A massive Warp Portal appears above Earth and with it an Arbitrator who enters a Universe of Gods, Heroes, and Villains. The Imperium may have not existed yet in this time, but through him Its laws will be obeyed. Through Blood and Iron, he shall enact the Emperor's Justice whether the League or anyone else allows him or not. Judgement has come to those who come to harm Earth.

9. Fanatics

A/N: Good day/evening ghouls and gals. I hope enough of you are still alive in the midst of this pandemic to read this little fic of mine.

Jokes aside, I understand that it is tough for many of you to be stuck indoors for quarantine. I am no different. Even I'd care for a different scenery or any other wallpaper that differs from the same one i've been staring at for 5 months. But please, be safe. And here is another chapter to entertain your rotting minds, haha!

Comment Replies:

Conquerorofheaven1 – glad you like it. Moreso seeing my character in action. Enjoy this chapter cuz you'll get to see more of that and a different side of Mateus that would contrast his mistaken brutish personality.

Dethbringer66 – happy to get the love and don't you worry, more chapters are to follow. As mature as the scenes are going, I placed this on in rating T to get more readers to see this story. Does that work? Lemme know.

ManwithaPlan113 – to quote the Joker, "Madness is like gravity. All it needs is a little push." Or in this case, a Chaos Incursion.

superpierce, Tom2011 & BrotherCaptainSheperd – True. I have no love for Batman. He'll get his in this story soon. Just you wait.

Theparadoxic – thank you for that. I strive to make this into the good one for all your sakes over mine.

Help I Have No Social Life and Guests criticizing the Batman vs Arbitrator fight – I do not bar criticism and I accept all comments openly for discussion. I only ask for your patience because I am setting the stage for a good closure that will answer all your gripes. So till then, stay tuned.

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Ch 9: Fanatics

The night was dark. Especially in the grim city of Gotham. The city of perpetual shadow.

Skyscrapers blotted out the star lit sky as all fell beneath their towering shadows. Greedily feasting on any semblance of light to the lower streets. Their shadows gave life to the thousand statues perched upon its gothic spires. Gargoyles and saints loom over those that fall under their ever vigilant gaze. The Batman stood between both.

His was a story amongst many but his was told with much more enthusiasm as it was whispered in fear. To many of its denizens, he was a myth. An urban legend. Ghost stories children tell and criminals fear. From monsters to demons to government experiments to aliens. Of all these stories one tune sung the same and true. That the Bat haunts the shadows. That much was true, but no one said that the Batman haunted it with style.

The Batmobile raced down the city's streets . Fast as it was quiet, the vehicle swayed around Gotham's winding streets unnoticed like and as a shadow. Nothing more than passing glimpses or perceived imaginings of wide eyed onlookers.

Robin spent night drives like these in the Batmobile with absolute glee. He felt a desireable sensation of power and untouchability while they zoomed past pedestrians unnoticed. Traffic was no obstacle. Police wouldn't dare stop pr let alone chase them. For the boy's young-blooded pride, it was moments like these that made him feel invincible. It was no Invisible Plane or Lantern Ring, but Robin would choose the Batmobile regardless everytime.

There was no glee to be had that evening. A heavy air settled itself between the two inside the vehicle and it gave Robin no respite. There was no desireable sensation or anything as Robin fidgeted nervously in his seat with twiddling thumbs. There were neither any sights to be seen or faces to laugh at. Only the Batman and his unmoving cowl took the boy's full attention. Their entire trip was spent in utter silence. An uncomfortable setting that Robin preferred being elsewhere entirely.

Butterflies fluttered wildly in Robin's stomach. Fearing the punishment Bruce might give him for what he did in the Batcave. His imagination more so as his thoughts on said punishment became more chaotic and out of proportion the more he thought about it. Now he wondered if Bruce's silence throughout the trip was the punishment. Knowing that Robin's overactive imagination provides the appropriate amount of torture.

Bruce was not a cruel father. But he can be efficient when it comes to strict disciplining. Rigidly retaining an impassive mood that was difficult to crack. His eyes never left the road and never betrayed his feelings with any subtle gestures.

If anyone knew the Batman and Bruce Wayne better, it would be his son. But Robin saw something was off about his father this time. No amount of detective work or psych evaluations could unlock this particular mystery. Bruce has always been the type to keep to himself but Robin never saw one that affect him as bad as how he was these past few days. A clear obsession that revolved about the Arbitrator.

A revelation struck Robin as hard as the Batmobile when it jumped up the curb. He surmised that the only possible reason Bruce had in any of this was how personal this Arbitrator case was for him. How deep that rabbit hole goes was still to be desired. The question of how or what that all was flew around the you g detective's head.

Deciding that there was no better time than now to ask him, Robin breathed deep. Gathering what courage he could to see this through.

"Bruc—I mean…Batman." Robin asked. "What is the Arbitrator to you? You havent been yourself these past few days. And I wanna know. Not just as Dick Grayson this time. But also as Robin. Your partner. So I want to know. What's going on with this case?"

Robin expected the outcome come either way. Utter silence, a harsh rebuke, or an honest answer. Surprisingly, the Batman was quick to give him an answer. Better still was the Batman's choice of the 3rd option that left the boy brighten with glee. Eager to hear the answer he had long desired to know. What Robin didn't expect or was prepared for was what that answer entailed.

"The Arbitrator knows my Father." The Batman answered. "He knew about my parent's deaths. And he told me that it was all his organizations doing."

"What?!" Robin exclaimed in shock. "How?"

"'You carry the burden of your Father's sins.' He told me." Bruce recalled the words. Clear as day. "'Know his shame'. 'And know that he died by our hands.' He said that last part proudly too."

"Whoa." Robin was left agape. "That was all…pretty overwhelming."

"He said all that when we fought down in the Underworld. The police took him away before I could get anything else. I found a dead end when I found him comatosed in Leslie's hospital. I've kept a close eye on him, in case he wakes up, but I still wanted answers."

"So you went for the Journal." Robin said. "The Journal I gave you."

"Yes. I read it all one sitting." The Batman blinked.

The book was no bible but its owner made sure to make it anything but a worthwile read. Robin thought it was a phone book when he first found it because the Arbitrator crammed every page to the brim with his entries.

Suffice to say, Robin finally understood where Bruce's long sleepless nights came from as we all those bags under his eyes.

"How long did it take you? To finish the book I mean it?" Robin asked earnestly.

"Long enough to tell me that he's further from being in the right mind every time I turned a page." Batman said derisively. "But not enough to tell me what I wanted to know. I havent found any connection between him, my parents, and his Inquisition. His items that I've confiscated were another dead end. They were all encrypted in a way that was all but unbreakable.

"I'm sorry, Bruce. I didn't get much out of his helmet to help fill in any of those blanks. All I saw were random scenes. Like, corrupted files of images." Robin recalled what he saw the best he could. "There a cathedral inside a huge starship. An epic space battle somewhere in deep space. Then in the dark corridors, he fought with green aliens and then this massive scary monster he called a Night Lord—"

Before Robin could say more, the Batman suddenly turned to him for the first time since the start of their trip. He looked at him right in the eye with pure dedication and ferocity then asked,

"What did you say?"

Before Robin could say anything, a man suddenly appeared in front of their headlights. The Batmobile skidded aside as Batman quickly turned the wheel. Everything happened in a split second but it was still a split second too late. The man they were so eager to avoid was still struck to the side hard and was sent flying through the air. A storm of blood and paper erupted when a mailbox cushioned his fall in an almighty crash.

The Batmobile screeched to burned rubber before coming to quick stop. But not before the dynamic duo jumped out of the vehicle. Neither hesitated to give their help.

Two great winged shadows appeared above a flickering lamp post as the Batman and Robin both glided towards the injured man. The Batman landed next to the broken man while Robin stood watch from behind. Sinister as the Dark Knight's shadow was, Robin knows that he has a good heart and can act as a velvet glove well as he would the iron gauntlet.

"How is he?" Robin asked to no response.

The Batman kept silent. His large frame and towering cowl blocked the Boy Wonder's view of the injured man. Curiosity made Robin take the first step but the Batman raised his hand. The Boy Wonder was stopped on his tracks but saw enough of the man lying uneasily on the pavement.

The dim light revealed the horror beneath the black cover of shadows. A monstrous perversion of a human being. This creature was gaunt with green leathery skin pocked with massive stone warts and painted by layers of thick gangrene. Its face was melted with a filthy gaping mouth full of wriggling maggots and blank beady eyes peering from behind sunken sockets. A broken bone and metal sheets from the mailbox stuck out of the man's swarthy skin. Erratic breaths gave a sign of life but the way it gurgled and wheezed asked the question of how long.

"What?" Robin asked.

Horror movie monsters were a mainstay in the Boy Wonder's pallet. Finding himself looking at one in front of him however was an entirely different experience. One look at that…thing gripped tugged tight to his chest. Its haunting moans, though familiar to his ears, petrified him in place. A whiff of its foul stench almost forced him vomit. The one thing that movies can never deliver.

Robin heard the sound of a fluttering cape as the Batman suddenly leapt back. Taking Robin along with him to seperate themselves from the creature. Barely dodging its devilish swipe from sharp claws that stretched out from its arms to its fingertips.

The flickering lamp post added to the horror as it flickered wildly as the creature stood to its feet. All the while tearing itself free from the sharpened debris. Bones snapped in place as it slowly got back to its feet. Gaping wounds closed and sewed themselves shut before their very eyes. All the while the creature limped towards them amidst gurgling moans.

"That a zombie? That's a zombie!" Robin trembled.

"And it brought friends." The Batman added as long shambling shadows looming at them from all sides.

Throngs of their numbers emerged behind from alleyways and some crawled out from the storm drains. Their moans echoed with the wind as they approached. Their beady eyes grew wide in their sockets with starving intent and saliva splattering hard on the ground. Their yellowed teeth chattered gutteral snarls. Eager to savor the promised meal in front of them.

"Are you ready?" The Batman calmly asked. Clearly unfazed by the the same terror approaching them. Instead he was convinced by their obvious hostile intentions.

Robin focus on the situation intently. Shaking his head and the fear bearing on his shoulders. Removing himself off the guise of Dick Grayson, the teen, and into the mindset Robin, the superhero. That in mind, he took out the bo staff and held it at the ready against their gangling foes.

"Ready" Robin declared with assured confidence.

The Batman easily believed him and fluttered his cape wide as he threw a Batarang. The whistling projectile flew over the zombies' heads and struck the flickering lamp post. The only source of light in that alley was all but snuffed out amidst a shower of shattered glass. Darkness quickly took hold and blinded everyone of their sight. All except for two.

Robin was quick to follow the Batman's intentions. The zombies clearly relyied on sight more than anything else. Their eyes dilated at the sight of their prey while their noses, or at least those that did have noses, remained still. All of that was a far fetched observation however and other hidden factors might still be at play. But if the Batman was confident enough to play this card, Robin was confident to dance to his tune.

The Darkness helped even the odds with their enemies' advantage in numbers. A common trend Robin experienced time and time again. The Batman taught Robin well that next to fear, Darkness is the next best thing to have against their enemies. And Gotham provides many avenues for that. Even during under the light of day. Robin kept that lesson close to heart and his experiences applying that lesson in many fights made him love being in it all the more.

"Let's go." The Batman said as they struck first from the shadows.

XXXXXXXXXX

Jonas, the Third Acolyte, was rudely awakened to the guttural groans of his low-borne followers. The dredges and their leathered hands clumsily lifted him up to his feet. He was greeted to their wart pocked faces and spit-slime dripping mouths the moment his sight returned. Unsurprised by their hideous looks, Jonas turned to his own and found it blasted to pieces.

Torn from its tendons, his jaw hung lazily under his mouth next to an eye that popped out from its socket. His teeth were all but shattered while his lips were torn to shreds along with his nose. Bone and metal shrapnel tore through everything else and lept gaping holes scattered along his neck and head.

Though his head was shattered, Jonas's faith did not. His unholy union with the chaos god of disease blessed him with unholy power that slowly healed his body. The gaps that tore his head asunder were slowly being filled with thick scabs and jagged scars.

"WuHApPeNgeD?" Jonas mumbled the moment his jaws realligned.

His faintest memory was leaping at his prey. His enemy. The Red-Eyed Wraith. He recalled his mandibles spread wide. Inches from the kill. He remembered the taste of metal as he bit into his foe's weapon. The rest was forgotten as the following explosion wiped everything clean from his mind. That includes parts of his brain scattered about in the floor.

"The Red-Eyed demon. It was the Red-Eyed Wraith, boss." An Infected spoke. "He blasted ya with an oxygen tank. He got you good, he did."

Jonas growled at the squirming man. "WHeRe iZ hE?! vhERE iSh thE SoN ova bITcH?!"

"I-I-In there, my lord." The man pointed to the door at the end of the hall. The same door the others struggled to break down with their battered fists.

"ImBecILes!" Jonas barked. "FoOLs! YOu aRE giVeN iMMunITy To PaiN! bUt FleSh'N bONe WoN'T deNt StEeL!"

The Acolyte trudged through the mass of loitering zombies, many of whom were slowly stitching themselfs together, until he found his axe. Embedded to the floor as he left it. The blade cut deep into the floor and the cracks around it were large. Nonetheless, the Acolyte easily pried it from the floor with a single tug.

"My lord Acolyte! Lord Acolyte!" An infected from outside his group rasped as she ran passed the sea of zombies. She broke through the crowds and knelt before the bastardized memory of a man.

"SpeAK." Jonas grumbled.

"Our Prophet is in n-n-need of you." The Infected stammered. "The ritual is to begin. He commands that you attend it. All of you. And he commands you send forth the horde that you have gathered here."

"TeLL thE mAsTEr ThaT i WiLL bE tHERe shorTLy. TherE iS wOrk lEFt fOr mE t'Do hERe. tAkE tHe reST."

Closing his mind off from the Material Realm, the Acolyte called forth to the raw unholy powers of the Warp. Binding them aLl to his command. Green eyes appeared in the eyes of every zombie around them as he tapped into them one by one.

A wave of green eyes spread itself among the zombies as Jonas tapped into the raw unholy powers of the warp. telepathically command the minds of the dead. The loitering cadavers all stood straight in attention like clockwork and obeyed the Acolyte with a simple gesture. Every last one of them shambled up the stairwell en masse.

"Very well, my lord." The messenger fidgeted nervously. "But if i you would excuse me. If i were to ask..."

"YeS?" Jonas's eyes furrowwd.

"W-what of the other? Y-Y-Your compatriot? Where is Brother Enoch?"

"Ov'R tHERe."

The axe and the messenger's eyes pointed to a decapitated body trampled against a wall. Shining black blood pooled out of its neck and scoured the once pearl white floor.

"I-i-impossible!" The messenger screeched. "H-how?"

"The ReD-EyED Wraith! He'Z there!" Jonas roared. His crooked finger pointed at the door. "WeaKeND! TraPpED! HiDIng liKE a RaT 'hINd thAt dOOr. aS hE hAs taKEn My bROtheR's HeAD, I sWEAr t'TakE hIs! A trOpHy i ofFeR T'da MasTer. AnD iN HolY NuRGle'S nAME! Now GO!"

The messenger obeyed and disappearing with the crowds of loitering zombies. Only a handful of the most able bodied infected in Jonas's retinue remained. The same power he used on the zombies were imbued onto his pawns. Warp energies coursed through their veins like a drug. Intoxicating them with power as it Increased their size, strength, and ferocity amidst bloated tumors and billowing tentacles.

With a mighty roar, Jonas struck the blade deep into the door amidst the cries of steel. His axe was heavily blunted but the man persisted. He continued to batter his obstacle down amidst a shower of sparks. The door groaned when he pried it open effortlessly to widen the a space large enough for him to squeeze through.

Jonas kicked the locker barring his way. The debris was sent flying as the Acolyte squeezed his way in only to find himself inside a pitch black room. He was barred of his sight and the hole door was his only source of light. Thick musk of alcohol confused his powerful sense of smell as it masked his prey's scent. Not even his hearing could be relied on in his hunt as it could not pick up a single sound whether it was from movement or a heartbeat.

More of his Infected cohorts entered the room with him. Squeezing themselves one by one through the hole only to share the same confusion as their lord. It was the shattered glass on their step that made the Acolyte turn his head towards them. Turning to his own, he found sharp shards of glass scattered in the floor. What little light that piercedthe room made them glisten red. Red from the blood trickling on every shard.

"DaMn yOU." Jonas cursed. The wooden handle of his axe groaned under his furious grip.

"Expecting. Wounded game?" A grim voice echoed from the shadows. "Expecting. Trapped prey? I. Am no civilian. I am. No fool. I am a wolf. And you all. Are in my den."

A red light beamed from the far side of the roo, startling the Infected. They quivered where they stood before the terrible gaze of the Red-Eyed Wraith. All sense of their bravado trickled down their skins as none dare to take a step. All save for the Acolyte Jonas who acted on it.

Rage imbued him over fear. So much so that he charged towards his foe with a thunderous roar. His axe sang as he felled it at his foe. His fury as much as the darkness blinded him from everything and that includses what was in front of him. That red eye was nothing more than a laser pointer on a rack.

The axe cleaved the metal rack clean in half before he realized his folly. By then it was too late. Shards of glass bearing alcohol splattered at and around him. Its putrid stench stung his nose before the fire as it was all set ablaze.

Jonas's cronies panicked as they watched their Acolyte raving about in a furious inferno. Every agonizing second for him felt like an hour made worse by his flesh that was being seared faster than it could regenerate him. His leathery skin screamed as thet melted from his bones. The sinews of his muscles snapped as they were burnt to a crisp. The roaring blaze drowned his ears of all else and siphoned the air from his wretched lungs.

Desperate to free himself from the fire's grip, Jonas tore long strips of own burning skin off of his body. The blood and ooze that spewed helped quenched the remaining flames. What little flesh he retained included one bloodshot eye that a glimpse of the shadowy figure tearing through his minions with steel and fire.

Every swipe of his hand shredded men to ribbons. Every flash of fire sent them screaming as bonfires before collapsing to the ground. Their bodies instinctively curl as scorched fetuses in their sunless womb before being stomped to death under the Red-Eyed Wraith's cloven hooves.

More Infected squeezed themselves through the door, but the Red-Eyed Wraith ceased these attempts by setting the barricade aflame. Their screams were quickly silenced by the hissing streams of fire spewing from his fingertips.

The burning barricade bathed the storage room with hellish red light. The Red-Eyed Wraith appeared before Jonas as a shining devil of silver casted with red flames and wicked weapons. A creature more monstrous than the Acolyte. One that casted a great shadow over him.

Their eyes met as the only two left standing in the room. One bore the shade of toxic green. The other bore the blazing red. One was shrouded by shadows. The other was draped by tongues of fire.

"Y'fIGht wEll, WrAItH." Jonas scowled. Despising how the man impressed him and his ability. "EsPEciALly yoUr bLoOdlUsT. YoUr inSTiNCt t'KiLl. BuT That wOnT Be enOUgH. NoT aGAinST me. HiS bLeSSed ChOSeN. AnD thE DeACon'S mOsT viCIoUS KILLER!"

The sound of clanging of metal pierced Jonas's ears before his chest was struck by a thundrous crack. Taken aback, Jonas found himself grabbing hold to a damp rope sticking out of him. Rows of silver razors stuck out from the rope's every knots. The blades were sharpened like teeth and bit just as hard while glistening with his black blood. A harsh tug tore the blades from his chest and sawed his fingers clean off in an explosive shower of meat and gore.

"You. Talk too much." The Wraith spat. "Save your breath. Your Praise. Insults me. Save your Words. On your last. Spend it screaming."

Jonas stood there unfazed. Both on his foe's indifference and the injuries he earned from him. Not even the loss of his fingers stopped him from going for the offensive. His axe swung wild for his enemy's head only to meet a metal shield. A heavy knee sent Jonas reeling back and crashing into the a tall rack.

Faint whistling piqued his ear coming from the dark. There he caught an image of a glistening snake baring red fangs dancing in the air. Tearing through the shadows as it poised to strike. The air exploded with another momentous crack as the Wraith's whip bit into his face. Its serrated blades tore through the Acolyte's cheeks only to stop short as it was caught in place by his jagged teeth. Pinning the weapon in place with his mouth. Immovable no matter how hard the Red-Eyed Wraith pulled.

Jonas's inhuman strength prevailed as he pulled his enemy close with an almighty tug. Closing the distance for a swing from his axe. He counted on the Red-Eyed Wraith to raise his shield as he drove his axe deep inside it. A twist of a hand locked the two together and allowed him to pry the shield from his enemy's hand.

The Red-Eyed Wraith's hesitation showed its surprise before motioning to its flamethrower. Jonas caught hold it with his other free hand and a struggled ensued between the two. Their struggle caused fire spout wildly from its barrel. Burning into the ceiling harmlessly until its fuel ran out.

Racks and lockers fell like dominoes after the Red-Eyed Wraith tackled Jonas to them. Contents clamored on the floor as the two grappled and struck each other on the floor. Rolling about like filthy beasts atop a mountain of debris.

Shows of skill and style were thrown out the window as the two fanatics settled the score with purely brute strength and fury. Bloodlust was the fuel behind their every blow and from anything they could get their hands on the floor. Whether they were made of glass, metal, or plastic, all of them were broken on each of their heads.

The Red-Eyed Wraith separated itself from Jonas with a heavy kick. Its whip remained in Jonas's mouth however and used it to pull his enemy back to with a powerful tug. His enemy was sent flying to meet Jonas's waiting fist but the bastard quickly dodged it and clambered onto his back. Grappling with an arm and twisting the serrated whip around his neck.

Jonas threw himself backward and pinned his enemy to the floor under his weight. This did little to disuade the Red-Eyed Wraith however. Unmoved by its attempts to dislocate Jonas's arm chokkng it at thr same time.

Their struggle forced the Acolyte to reach out into the dark. Feeling for anything he could use to free himself from the Wraith's hold. His prayers were soon answered as he felt the cold blade of his axe amidst the chaos. The Red-Eyed Wraith was already on top of him before he could fully grab hold of it. The two quickly proceeded to grappled for the weapon amidst a flurry of fists. Ending with a solid punch that struck Jonas right in the face.

Teeth, blood, the whip, and wind were knocked out from his once fanged clutches. Left in a daze, Jonas barely saw the sinister Red-Eyed Wraith bearing down his own axe at him. The blow was cut short however when Jonas vomited a noxious stream of acid. Melting the axe in half and sending its blade cluttering off to nowhere.

"DiE!" Jonas shrieked. His stomache heaved for another shot.

The Red-Eyed Wraith disengaged as more acid spouted out the Acolyte's mouth. Jumping and rolling away to evade the toxic stream. Items and furniture melted to sludge as it ran behind cover and ducked before every blast.

"CoWAr—" Jonas's words were cut short by another crack of the whip.

The flying razor wire bent around the racks and sliced off half of Jonas's face. Both his jaws and what was left of his teeth splattered to the floor. Along with a final filthy heave of acidic vomit spilling on the floor like an open tap.

It was not a serious wound nor a mortal injury yet Jonas felt his strength leaving him. His scars and freshly healed wounds began tearing themselves open. His blood and bile trickled from him, as did his strength that was leaving him. Almost as if something was seeping or siphoning it from his flesh. His legs collapsed on themselves as though they had fallen asleep. All of these strange instances began only moment he found himself beneath the Red-Eyed Wraith's ever growing shadow and its blazing red gaze.

"Coward. You say?" The Red-Eyed Wraith chuckled a guttural snarl. His voice echoed around them. "I face you. Alone. Weakened. Decrepit. While you hide behind. Numbers. Bear strength. Not of your own. And not once. Ever needed to raise. A hand in your. Miserable life. What does that. Make you then?"

Jonas cowered before the Wraith's every foreboding step. Save for the Wraith's aforementioned red eye, the rest of it appeared as a massive towering shadow. A nightmare of his own imaginations made manifest. Like falling into a great pit and never seeing the light of day.

His own body gave life of its own. Becoming something of its own and outside of his control the closer the Red-Eyed Wraith stepped forth. Pain screaming as it coursed like a bolt of lightning all over his body. A thousand needles pecked him from all sides between spouting bullets of sizzling sweat. Scattered Boils and pores erupted fumes along his flesh. Paving the way for panicking parasites to crawl out of each enflamed chasms before falling dead on the floor.

"No. YOU are the cowards here!" The Red-Eyed Wraith admonished. "Who slays. Civilians in their. Beds? Who cowers before me. Like a shitting canid? Who surrendered. Himself to the ENEMY?"

The nightmare unsheathed a heavy blade on his right. A bonesaw made wicked by jagged teeth and glistened from the hellish flames burning around them. Its left bore his makeshift flamethrower. Loaded and impatient to spout its fury to the unclean.

"Your gods. Abandoned you. Bereft. Yet Judgement. No. Judgement did not ."

Jonas was harshly kicked to the ground and faced the hissing barrel of the flamethrower.

"For crimes of damnation. Suffer. Endless torment. For crimes of murder. Dream. Of ceaseless nightmares. For crimes of heresy. Be cleansed. In Holy Fire. Eternal."

For the first time since becoming an Acolyte, Jonas felt fear once more for the last time. His screams joined the flamethrower's hissing breath as it spewed a furious stream of flames that caressed his body whole and tight. Pain welcomed him like a once scorned lover. Slowly tearing him apart until there was naught but ash. Fire coursed through his body like water and washed away the blight marring his body by eating away at his very flesh.

"You are sentenced. The Emperor's peace. As He. Protects us from. Scum like you."

The Red-Eyed Wraith pinned Jonas down with his cloven hoof. Watching over him unhindered and unmoved as the condemned suffered. Jonas could only mouth cries of help. The flames already siphoned every ounce of air from his lungs while scorching the rest. His eye begged for mercy. Unable to weep as the flames closed every crevice on his face shut.

Desperation forced Jonas to blindly reach out for salvation. His executioner denied him any such attempt however. Instead it quashed this with a swipe from its blade. Sending both Jonas's fingers and half of his palm flying off elsewhere far from his sight and reach.

The pain never ended. The fear never ceased. The flames burned on forever. For all the things he was told till that day, only the Red-Eyed Wraith's promise fell through till the end. It did not give him any comfort however. Or laughter from its irony. Or epiphanies to discover.

It was all just as it was and he was damned so suffer all of it for eternity.

XXXXXXXXX

Leslie barely saw any of what was happening. Mateus's understanding of her safety meant shoving her into a locker and walking way with the key. The experience was oddly nostalgic for her.

The old doctor was safe but her position was anything but comfortable. The locker left her swealtering inside her metal coffin. Not only that but it was to crowded for a woman her size to sit. Empty as it was. Her feet were sticking to wall while her knees were squeezed close to her chest. Worse still was that she was left completely in the dark. Literally. The slats on the door didn't give off much to see and was made useless when Mateus turned off all the lights.

She was left blind and dumb to whatever would be happening outside. Luck was considered at first. Leslie didnt have to suffer through witnessing the madness that always tread close to her patient's steps. What she didn't count on was hearing those sounds that madness made once the clash ensued.

What Leslie heard there became morphed to something much horrible once her imagination was added to the fray. Horror. Chaos. Mutilation. Death. Cup her ears as tight as she wanted, the sounds still echoed inside her head. Cold chills curled up and down her spine as the good doctor trembling in her iron coffin.

"Mateus is going all out this time." Leslie said to herself as she held herself tighter against the storm. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this. Don't think anyone can."

Leslie saw her small world morph around her into something unexplainable and utterly empty. Like a pit was being dug in her chest and her very mind is leaning over the edge of its abyss. The gun on her hand was slowly inching itself towards her. Offering to end it all.

"No." Leslie hissed and pointed the gun away. She gasped for breath. "This is his doing." She told herself. "Just relax, Leslie. You've felt this before. You can take it. Calm down. It will pass. Stay alive. Stay alive. Survive."

The locker shuddered as a grey appeared before it. Leslie gripped her pistol tight as the doors rattled violently. Instinct had Leslie point her weapon at the intruder the moment . Fear forced her to pull the trigger. The flash from her pistol revealed Mateus to her. Bloodied and battered. The boy thankfully had the sense of swatting the pistol away just as it fired and hitting a random a ceiling lamp into a shower of sparks

"Mateus." Leslie gasped. She never thought she could ever be more relieved seeing him. "Thought you were going to leave me here."

"You thought wrong." Mateus asked and offered a hand. "Rather I. Do?"

"No. I'd rather you dont." Leslie readily answered and took it, Her legs wobbled as she stood upright. "Glad you're still alive too."

"Getting fond. Of me? Medicae?" Mateus roughly chuckled.

"Not in your life," Leslie smirked. "You're still a pain in my ass."

"Best if we keep it. That way." Mateus grunted as be walked away.

He made for the barricade but not before retrieving his shield littering on the corner. His words, like the room, left Leslie standing in the dark. Utterly lost. Confused. Something in her gut told her that she had spoken out of turn. Her good conscious nature naturally paved her steps in trying to fix it.

The fire had died down but left the barricade a black ashen obstacle. Mateus took it on himself to struggle through the wreckage by hacking and tossing large pieces aside. Seeing that one of his hands were full from holding the saw, Leslie offered the boy a second pair in taking down the ashen debris.

"I'm sorry." Leslie started as she sifted through the pieces. "I was only trying to lighten the mood. It was a joke."

"That so?" Mateus turned to her. His eye's red glowed with subdued menace. "Hadnt. Realized. Do tell. If you care to. Make more. I am. In no mood for such. Frivolity."

Mateus paused to pry the massive locker aside to a deafening crash.

"Your apology." Mateus continued. "It's irrelevant. I'm above petty. Insults. 'Bothering with pebbles. Delays the march.' As I put it. So leave it be. Or be left here. With it."

Before Lelsie could retort, Mateus kicked the door open. The light from outside made her see circles as the light beamed at her unready eyes. She squinted and blinked to regain her sight but was welcomed by another unwelcomed sight when she did. Her once plain white basement hallway became dirtied, decrepit, and an unrecognizable mess in the aftermath of their earlier skirmish.

The calm after the storm painted the scene to a very unfavorable light for her. The same storm left its mark on her once serene hospital.

Pools of blood and filth spared no inch untouched. The floors were stained by hundreds of indiscernable bare and filthy footsteps. The lack of present corpses either meant the zombies cannibalized each other or simply raised to life again to fill their ranks. Leslie leaned more on the latter since her floors were stained by hundreds of their bare filthy footsteps. They did however littered enough discarded bodyparts to fill 3 large bodybags.

"I'll end up spending all my savings paying the Cleaners for this mess." Leslie lamented.

"Clear." Mateus marched out.

The dimly lit hallway also shined on Mateus, but in no way did it place him at a better light. Let alone a better sight. The boy tossed her in one of the locker rooms before he could make the finishing touches to his armour. It was there under the flickering lights of her blood drenched hallway did Leslie see Mateus in his full horrifying splendor.

The attire he made himself was as ramshacked as his battered body. Everything bound together by miles of bandages and duct tape. Books and matal trays were tight into place as his chest plate. Magazines layered in fiberglass were made into pauldrons, vambraces, and greaves. A metal mask from a battered metal tray completed the set.

His weapons were no different from the rest. His whip was a coiled rope embroidered with boxcutter razors. Brass knuckles were bent steel bars wrapped around his fists. An alcohol fed flamethrower made of plastic tubes, a trigger nozzle, her lighter, and an oxygen tank that was kept together by duct tape. Molotov cocktails and knives hung tightly around his belt.

It would have been a laughable sight if it werent for the grim lighting. The fact that none of the blood splattered on him was his showed his ingenuity on his design. Battered as it was, Mateus was in no worse from wear compared to how he was a few minutes ago.

Leslie had to admit that she was impressed by his resourcefulness. But it did send a shiver down her spine at how good he was at it. If a pile of scrap made him so efficient, what more can he do with something more potent.

"What happens now?" Leslie asked.

"The same. As before." Mateus grunted.

"I meant about us." Leslie explained. "What happens now?"

"Nothing. Here is where. We part ways. The end of the line." Mateus said non-chalantly. Pointing to an opposite hall. "There's an exit. Nearby. Over there. Its safe. Get out while. You still can."

"I dont think so, kid." Leslie marched to his side. "You're not gonna get far. Not in your condition."

"You'll never. Leave. If you do." Mateus countered.

"Have you looked at yourself in a mirror, boy? You're barely standing as it is!" Leslie argued. "The best course of action is to get put of here. Regroup. There are more capable people out there who can deal with this themselves."

"What d'you. Suggest? Medicae." Mateus stood his ground. "We leave? Then we've. Lost. This plague spreads. The one responsible. Will elude me." He said while balling his hands to a fist. "That! I cannot abide. No. I'll nip this heresy. From the bud while. I can."

"The one responsible? Who?" Leslie asked. Amongst everything in the boy's tirade, this was the only thing she heard worth listening to.

"A sorcerer." Mateus said venomously. "A heretic. And he is here. In your. Facility."

"How are you sure?"

"Evidence. And facts."

The boy hobbled towards a wall splattered with blood. Rag in hand he tore from his bandages, he dug into a small mound of corpses until he pulled out what was left of a shattered head. A glance was all Leslie could handle before she turned away and held back the urge to vomit.

It was moments like these where she considered her expert eye for detailcountednas a curse. It conclude that it was a middle aged male amidst the gaping wounds and the dripping pus. What she also was that it was greener, more leathery, and bore horn like warts. Something lacking or non existent to the infected and zombies they have enountered.

"An Acolyte." Mateus said in disgust. "A filthy cultist of. Disease. Upper rank grunts. And enforcers. In their hordes. But also able. Bodied lieutenants. Touched by the Warp. There're few of. Them though. A good sign."

"How's that?" Leslie asked.

"Because it means. That the sorcerer pulling. The strings. Is not that powerful. Least not yet." Mateus said as they continued down the hall. "Plague cultists are. Predictable somewhat. Their intentions easy t'track. They start. By introducing a. New strain of disease. Infecting dense populations."

Leslie immediately thought of the days that passed. The same day Mateus crash landed to the city and the purple star appeared in the sky, rumors of a new strain of disease appeared. Just like Mateus said, it spread itself on the city's most densly packed populations. Namely the Projects in Lower Gotham and the slums rear the City's docks.

People with colds, vomiting, pox, and other symptoms soon came rushing into doors. Swamping Lelsie and her staff for days on end.

"Then comes the purge." Mateus continued. "Their disease in place. Their numbers bolstened. Only then would they. Strike. Like the plague. This cult aims to spread it. Both to your living and your dead. Your facility holds ample supply of the. Latter. I conclude they. Have chosen this place as. Their fortress."

"Fortress? This place?" Leslie scoffed. "This cheap old building is a relic. A ruin with rickety elevators and faulty lights. Not to mention a fire hazard. You have to pull fire alarms manually for every single room."

"You're a civilian. An acceptable. Ignorance. An arrangement i prefer." Mateus snidely remarked. "Next to our foes. I. Was also attentive to the territory. Thick stone walls. Winding halls. Narrow corridors. Many ambush points. Not that it matters. To me. Can't say the. Same for most."

Mateus pointed to the barred windows. "Doubt anyone would. Enter there. And your facility. Its set around. Many habitation towers. The perfect staging point to. Unleash their disease further."

"What is this disease? I have to know." Lelsie asked. Squinting from the foul odor propagating around them.

"An unholy kind. Propagated. By hellish sorcery. Incubated by heretics." Mateus said before pausing. Almost as if he regretted telling Leslie any of it, or held something back. "That much. Is all I can say. Better if you dont know else."

"No. I think its better if I do." Leslie argued. "I am a doctor here. I can help."

"Do you pray? Medicae Thompkins. Are you. God-fearing?"

"What does that matter?"

"Everything." Mateus pressed.

"No." Leslie shook her head. "I stopped putting my stock on that years ago and stuck with what I can see and do with my own eyes and hands."

"That. Is disturbing." Mateus said coldly and faced Leslie. "Faithlessness is a serious crime. And one i consider. A personal slight. But i have neither time. Nor opportunity to judge it here. Instead. For sake of your service. I dismiss you. You're. Of no use to me. You. Will be a. Burden." The boy pointed at the basement's fire exit. "The path is clear. And put all this behind you. Good luck."

That said, Mateus continued down the hall. Leaving Leslie standing between the Crossroads once more. The clearest path offered salvation. Safety. At the same time however, it might lead her to regret.

The thought of leaving never left Leslie's mind. The exit her patient was pointing towards was salvation. The road he was walking towards was damnation. The answer was clear, but why is it that she felt compelled to follow him?

Against her better judgement, Lelsie made her choice. She stepped into Mateus's shadow.

"What do you think. You are doing? Medicae." Mateus asked.

Leslie decided that she needed to make her stand there and then. Terrified as she was, she mustered what courage she could find in her. Adamant to have her voice heard.

"I want to set things straight with you, boy." Leslie calmly yet firmly said. "I do not like you. You have been nothing but rude, obnoxious, and stubborn all night."

"You expect me. To apologize?" Mateus scoffed.

"I expect you to listen. I am not done." Leslie curtly stated. "I have little reason to care or show concern to you. But i wont be able to live with myself knowing that i left you to die when i could have done something about it."

"You wont. Live at all if you. Follow me." Mateus countered. "There's no redemptiom. Where i'm headed."

"No. But there can be salvation." Leslie exclaimed. "Maybe not for me, but for this city. I know other heroes out there who can stand against the evil running around my hospital. But you seem to know more about it than they do. So the chances of you ending it would help us more than anyone else. And someone has to keep your stubborn ass alive to do it.

Silence ensued between the two at that moment before Mateus took the first step and looked at Leslie dead in the eyes from his only one. There was no doubt in her mind that he was reading Leslie and her intentions. But doing that made Leslie read him too.

His body already was in worse shape now than he was before. His body screamed exhaustion and pain from his wounds. His eye however said none of that. They were the same steely glare Leslie saw in his room when they started this hellish exodus. A blank soulless eye hinting determination and anger. The fact that Lelsie also couldn't feel a whiff of Mateus's dreading aura despite being so close to her revealed much of the boy's strength and discipline. His Will was strong and his mind was still in control.

Leslie had to admit that she was beginning to respect but at the same time fear the boy's single minded tenacity.

"You care for people. I see that much." Mateus spoke. "But you also want answers. Its obvious. And foolish attempt."

"And what of it?" Leslie exclaimed. "I've saved your life and helped you through all this. Dont you owe me some questions in return."

"We already. Are under agreement. Because of your Attempt. To kill me. A crime you've yet paid for."

Leslie fell silent. Mateus struck her hard there without ever raising a hand. She was left to fume as Mateus never gave her a chance to retort.

"I have been lenient to you. Medicae." Mateus continued. "I will consider. Letting this slight pass. I have dismissed you. Accept this charity. And leave. I do not work with civilians. I have no further use of—"

Mateus paused abruptly and turned his sights towards one of the morgues. His grip on his shield tightened.

"What is it?" Leslie asked. Holding her pistol close.

Mateus said nothing nor made any motion to her. Instead calmly walked inside the room with Lelsie following close behind warily. She flipped the lights open only to be welcomed by flickering lamps with Mateus standing over a black bodybag placed on the table. Its shape assured its contents, but what was more concerning was Mateus's attitude about it.

"What is it?" Leslie asked again to the same silent response.

Standing to his right, Leslie saw Mateus unmasking himself. Curiosity set her sights to the bodybag and to its contents. A body no doubt, but Mateus's attitude towards it was very peculiar for her. Her hand hovered above the bag's zipper but cautioned to keep her gun at hand. She turned to Mateus before anything else but the boy did nothing about it. His eyes never left the bag. .

She barely touched the bodybag when it jolted to life. Arms flailed about amidst muffled wretching wails erupted from within the black plastic. Clomping teeth and fingernails scraped against the bodybag as the zombie inside attempted to rip through its binds.

Leslie jumped back in fright. Her finger raced to the trigger with its barrel pointing towards where the zombie's head lay. But a hand grabbed hold of the gun's hammer before Leslie could pull the trigger. Mateus pulled it away from the writhing corpse before prying it from Leslie's grip.

"Dont." Mateus said. His eyes never left the table. "I'll take this."

"Okay." Leslie could only nod and stepped back.

She heard Mateus's heavy sigh before pinning the bodybag in place with his shield. No sooner did he unzip the bag did the morgue erupt with the blaring wails of a feral zombie. The reverberating echoes made Lelsie cup her ears and prepared herself for the gunshot that never came.

Leslie opened her eyes to find Mateus lean over the zombie. Feet away from its gnawing jaws. His blank face made it difficult for Leslie to read him. His eye however gave it away. Not jusr his normal eye but his mechanical one as well. Its red light was slowly dimming. Was this sadness?

Leslie could only guess. Mateus's peculiar attitude towards the zombie a cause of concern but the old doctor was unsure how to approach him. She had never encountered or thought of him as being able to be in this vulnerable state. He had already proven himself an unpredictable character and Lelsie had enough to fear from him. Her curiosity must be sated either carefuly or from somewhere else.

The corpse's papers were thankfully hanging on the side of the table and filled. Untouched by the infected who thankfully had no interest in paperwork or ability to read.

"This one's a Jane Doe. A no-name." Leslie read the file. "Cause of Death: 6th degree burns on..." Leslie paused to reread the line. "Aircraft crash 1. Date of Death: June 24, 2010. Location: Gotham Public Park"

The data was familiar to her. The events coincided on the day when Mateus arrived in the city and her doorstep. Looking back to that night, she remembered Dr. Mendel mention working on 'the other one' from the crash. That 'other one' was Mateus's friend or affiliate in the crash. One unfortunate enough to die from the fire in the crash in the park that afternoon. That same one who was now a charred zombie on her table. The discovery left Leslie speechless.

"Deza Tamera." Mateus spoke solemly. "That is her name. Inquisitor. Of the Ordo Hereticus."

"Did you know her well?" Leslie asked carefully.

"Enough." Mateus raised his head to Leslie. His stone face was betrayed by his lone eye that hinted of sadness. "She served the. Imperium. Dutifully. And I served her. The best I can."

"Doing what?" The words slipped from her mouth.

Mateus did not hear them however. His mind was elsewhere and gave off a heavy sigh. His knuckles cracked as his fists held tight.

"I stand here. Because of her. Instead of me. Lying there. She commanded it." Mateus faced Leslie. "To finish the fight. To deny those. Traitors. From stepping foot in this. Damned world. She ordered me out. Whilst she burned. What else can i do but. Obey. What is a tool? That outlives its master?" He slammed his fist on the table. His voice fumed in anger. "She was wounded. She was dying. But it should still. Be me on this table. Not her. Not like this. She was. Worthier than I."

Leslie's sorrow for Mateus was sincere. For the first time since their meeting, the two of them stood on equal grounds. Empathizing to the loss of someone near and dear. This vulnerable side of him helped brought boy to a new light. One who susceptable to emotions as everyone else. The monster within the man was slowly unravelling.

"She saved your life, Mateus." Lelsie placed a gently hand on the boy's shoulder. "Be thankful for that at least."

"Now I. Will save her." Mateus replied.

The boy pressed his right hand on his chest. His left held the gun hoverong over the zombie's head. All the while he reverently prayed.

"Almighty Emperor. Grant me strength. To carry out your Peace. In your name I pray. Sister. Grant me forgiveness. For His Will I will. Enact. Your End shall be swift. Your Duty is done. As i shall do mine."

The room fell silent at last after a thunderous gunshot shook it to the core. The zombie fell limp and dead. Mateus stood tall and unmoving for a moment before continuing his ritual. Leslie eagerly watched on. Taking in his every word and action.

"Oh God-Emperor. Master of Mankind. Grant this servant. Mercy. Welcome her to. Thy Halls. Place her to. Thy side. Cleansed. And Pure."

With flamethrower in hand, Mateus showered the charred corpse with bright flames. The black bodybag was fireproof and acted as a good insulator that intesified the flames. Further burning whats left of the late Inquisitor's flesh and charred uniform turned to ash.

"Inquisitor Deza Tamera. Grant her Salvation. Her Loyalty. Unbent. Her Faith. Unbroken. Her Duty. Inspiring. In your Holy Name. I pray the same for me."

"Are you...okay, Mateus?" Leslie asked out of concern after what she felt was the end of his ritual.

"Remember these words. Medicae." Mateus said. Turning to Leslie to say it right at her face. "Because I want you. To say these words to me. The day I die. Swear it."

"Y-yes. I will." Leslie scrambled an answer while trying to understand the weight behind this promise.

Mateus returned to the smoking pyre before muttering. "Good."

The crackling flames spoke for the two of them. It took a short while before Leslie decided to ease the silence.

"I'm sure that was very difficult for you." Leslie gave him a reasurring hand. "Especially given how she mattered to you."

"It. Was my Duty." Mateus was slow to answer. "But the trigger...it was heavy."

"So. What are you going to do now?"

"Finishing the fight." Mateus said before approaching the flames. "And you. Will. Help me."

"What?" Leslie asked in alarm.

Her eyes turned to the fire and saw the bodybag slowly unravelling. Unable to withstand the flame's insatiable hunger. Amidst the orange tongues of fire and the mounds of graying ash, something golden glittered between the two atop the corpse's chest. Rising from the crumbling folds of the corpse's coat.

Mateus plunged his hand into the flames. Unmoved even as its crimson tongues scorched his skin. There it remained until it pried the golden Icon from its fiery clutches. There he held it even as it singed his hand black until it had cooled. Yet another scar to add to his already wounded body.

"You wish to. Be useful. Still?" Mateus asked before offering the item to Leslie.

It surprised Leslie to discover that the golden item in question was a cross but at the same time was not. It was nothing like any crosses she has seen in the Catholic Church or its history as it appears to bear its own symbols and meaning.

"What is it?" Leslie asked.

"An Inquisitorial Rosette." Mateus explained. Offering the Icon for Leslie's eyes.

Leslie didnt know what to make of the name. Whatever it was, she agreed that it was a beautiful thing. Unmarked by any scratch and unblemished by the flames. It glowed on Mateus's hand that treated it with reverence. As though it was of a religious inclination. Yet another thing that Leslie agree about the thing.

"What are you going to do with it?" Leslie asked.

"It's what you are. Going to do with it." Mateus answered as he placed the Icon on her palm.

XXXXXX

The Batmobile took to the streets of Gotham once more. Robin sat heavily on his seat. Panting and near out of breath.

Robin had fought lowlife thugs, monstrous meta-humans, advanced robots, and experts from every corner of the globe. Most of those ended with him coming on top during his career as a crimefighter. Zombies, though surprising, should be on the bottom of that list given their lack of any skill, ability, and motor function. All that came without relating it to any pop-cultures and movies. The only surprising thing about them is how quick they were on their feet.

Things went well as he expected. He and the Batman made short work on the zombies. Their foe's clumsy organization and lack of any sense of self preservation only added to their chances of victory. Easy pickings for the duo given their elite combat abilities. At least, so he thought at first.

A thug or an expert would have retreated. A meta-human would have given up. A robot would have broken down. All of them would have gone unconscious. The zombies did none of that. They were as relentless as they were stubborn. It took more and harder hits to take one down and when they do, they were more than eager to get up. Or crawl after breaking their legs.

Gadgets were more than useless since zombies were expectedly immune to any attempts of incapacitation. Flash-Bangs and Tear Gas didn't flinch them. Batarangs and Tranq darts only grazed or harmlessly stuck on them. Tazers only had half the desired effect. It barely held one zombie in place but what use was that against a horde.

As much as Robin hated to admit it, they were on the back foot. Their fight only attracted more zombies to their position. Crying and wailing as they swarmed the entire street. Teeth bared and arms waving about.

"To the Batmobile!" Robin remembered The Batman cry.

Grappling guns on hand, the Duo flew atop the buildings before gliding back to their vehicle. The Batmobile roared louder than the frantic hands clawing at them from outside. A pair of zombies burned as plumes of fire erupted from its engines. The rest were pushed awat from the blast as the Batmobile raced away.

The Boy Wonder felt his hands trembling. Not out of fear but out of strain. He also felt his knuckles aching black and blue from inside his blood soaked gloves. Rigor mortis made their skins as tough as leather.

An explosion from outside made Robin look out the window and was met an entirely different scene. One that contrasted the peaceful night from before. Every side of the Batmobile's windows painted a differing scene of their city in utter chaos. The Batmobile's black tinted glas lit alight from the reflection of Gotham on fire.

The city's skylines were brought to life by tall pillars of smoke and sheer madness. Roads were beset by burning debris and crumpled wreckage. Mostly from vehicles colliding with each other. Civilians took flight in panic. Running for safety to whatever door would take them. Looters took advantage of thr situation and took to the field. Pillaging and wrecking buildings amidst all this confusion.

Gunfire erupted over the screams as Police and armed individuals fought back against the unrelenting zombies taking over the streets. Some held the line but many made desperate last stands against the horde. Unnamed heroes disappeared under the teeth and hands of zombies swarming them.

"They're everywhere." Robin said in distress.

The radio played non-stop from both police frequencies and news broadcasters. Their erratic voices filled the lines of similar the riots spreading in the city. Some outlets were heard being broken into and attacked by more rioters.

Amidst the storm of radio static, one update piqued the ears of the Dynamic duo.

"What are we gonna do now, Batman?" Robin asked.

"Gotham General Hospital." The Batman answered.

Embarrassment and alarm made Robin facepalm hard. Berating himself for the very reason and purpose of the trip. Given the events of tonight however, can anyone blame him?

"Doc. Leslie!" Robin exclaimed. "We have to save her!"

"We will." The Batman nodded. "And save Gotham."

"How's going to the Hospital save Gotham?" Robin asked.

The Batman answered by pointing to the radio. The machine continued to broadcast a myriad of channels that Robin found hard to follow.

"You have to focus more on the things happening over your surroundings over the things happening to yourself." The Batman lectured. "Reports say that the area there has the largest concentration of the riots. Gotham General Hospital is the most notable building there over everything else and stands near the epicenter of all of this. Whatever we are looking for, we'll find it there."

The way to the Hospital was only one turn away. It would have been a home stretch for the two by then. A straight shot to their destination. Fate had something else for them in mind however. Something big barred their way shy a few blocks from the Hospital. Something that surpasses the horror the zombies wrought on them from earlier.

The creature was the biggest thing on two legs that Robin had ever seen. Even as it stood before him down the street, Robin still could not believe what he was seeing. Reacting only with awe while leaving his mouth agape.

It lumbered down the intersection like a gorilla on its hind legs. Every step cracked the ground beneath its massive feet. Its bulgeous green skin glew a sinister shade of red and black from the flames raging around it. Small tendrils danced about like snakes. Its lumbering arms swung like heavy tree trunks. Strong enough to carry a burning bus like a club. A squad of police officers stood helpless as the monster swung it at them. Leaving behind a mountain of debris from the destruction it had wrougnt as it continued to rampage down the street.

"What is that thing?" Robin cried with alarm.

"A threat." The Batman said.

A foot on the pedal sent the Batmobile speeding forward with a deafening roar. The giant creature noticed them and ignored the police shooting at it. Even as the bullets dug deep into the monster's skin, its attention was spent on the newcomer coming at it with childish curiosity.

A press of a button activated the Batmobile's headlights that lit up the entire street. The creature winced and groaned before the light. Unused to the sight given its nocturnal upbringing. Its was as stupid as it was blind as it tried swatting the light as if they were flies. Dropping its burning bus club in the process as per the Batman's expectations. And like its weapon, the Batman's plan fell into place.

"Hold on!" The Batman ordered just as they collided with the creature at full force.

The Batmobile's cockpit heaved forward from the collision as did its passengers on their seats. The seatbelts did its job well with keeping their heads while the monster kept its own hovering above them. The vehicle's bumper tore into its stomache. The monster's guts hung limp and spewing on the hood while it emptied the rest by vomiting it on the roof.

It was a funny sight. Robin was just about to laugh when he heard faint sounds of sizzling coming from the window above him.

"Acid!" Robin cried in alarm.

The glass plane above their heads churned with the monster's rancid vomit. Curdling and bubbling as it slowly dug its way through the Batmobile's thick bullet proof glass. The Batmobile's hood had it worse as the torrent of the monster's stomach acid pured non-stop to the point of burning the reinforced armor with steam erupting from the acid's touch.

The worst had not yet passed since the re was still the monster to contend with. It peered inside the Batmobile's windsheilds with its glowing green eye. Sniffing at them with long draughts of its nose before grabbing hold to the vehicle with a bellowing roar. Assured that there was prey to be found inside what it considered as a metal box. Its massive fingers easily dug into the Batmobile's reinforced armor like clay. Slowly prying the cockpit open like a tin can.

Many of the Batmobile's systems blared from its sustained damage. Warning signs lit up with bold warnings and red lights. The Batman didn't need more reminders and set the car on reverse. Batmobile screeched loudly in its attempts to free itself from the monster's grip but the monster held firm. Its hands dug deep and tight. Going so far as to rip one of the car's wheels clean off.

The Batman had no intention of letting the monster wreck his car to disrepair. Tazer darts and rubber bullets were fired at point blank range but none of it got through. The dart's metal points barely penetrated the monster's thick pox-ridden leathered skin. Rubber bullets did worse as they left large cracks on the glass after bouncing off. Flairs were deployed at the press of a button. The entire street was engulfed with smoke and a flurry of red shots whizzing around at random.

All these attempted bore no damage or effect to the monster except for making it angrier. Its muscles and veins swelled to the point of bursting as the monster lifted the Batmobile. A vehicle with the weight and armament of a light tank.

"GROOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" The giant bellowed as it began its onslaught.

The Batman and Robin held for dear life as the monster slammed and dragged the Batmobile along the pavement. Wrecking the vehicle like a toy in the hands of a kid with a tantrum. All the while bellowing loud at the cockpit with spit and grime splattering at the windshield.

With its immeasurable strength, the monster lifted the Batmobile upside down over its head for the final blow. One that would destroy both the car and its occupants. All the while its filthy mouth laid open as it roared a victorious howl.

The cockpit kept them safe and secure amidst the onslaught. That much, Robin was sure. The question of for how long remained over his head though. Bad as things looked, Robin knew that this was the opening the Batman was waiting for.

Little did the monster know that Bats have no trouble hanging upside down. And that particular position set itself up well for the Batman's trap. The cockpit shot itself open at the press of a button. Sending the Batmobile's roof slamming at the giant's face. Crushing its nose and causing it to step back in a confused daze.

"Now!" The Batman cried just as he and Robin jumped out of the Batmobile.

Robin felt the rough cold pavement as he rolled on it upon landing. Getting to his feet was followed by a flurry of Batarangs with one hand while the other threw bolas that whistled in the air. The Batarangs struck the monster's right hand while the bolas tied itself around the monster's legs.

The Batman did the same during his exit. Batarangs were thrown at the monster's right hand but not before tossing a bomb inside the monster's gaping mouth.

The bond between mentor and apprentice was so strong that neither of them needed to brief the other of their plans or intentions.

Robin watched as the monster lost its grip on the car. The Batarangs tore its hands to ribbons just as the bomb exploded in its mouth. It was not enough to take the filthy colossus out however but the Batmobile did the trick. Their car fell right on the monster's face. The bolas tied to its legs acted as the coup de gras that sent the monster falling on its back with the Batmobile acting as the finale as it crushed it like icing on a cake.

The Duo were met by scattered applause from the equally scattered police. None however took the liberty of coming any closer out of both respect and fear. Civilians and survivors peaked from behind their barricaded windows. All of them eager to bear witness to Gotham's urban legend, the Dark Knight, come to life.

"Pretty overwhelming. Right, Batman?" Robin said.

"It has its moments," the Batman replied stoically as he turned to the wreckage of his car. Robin saw him cracking his knuckles at the sight.

"I'm sorry aabout your car." Robin said with sincerity.

"The Batmobile can be fixed. As will the city." The Batman said solemnly. "The lives these monsters took however wont be."

Robin's naivety came to play again. Their victory and the welcomed cheers blinded him from the casualties scattered around him. The sight of the dead weighed heavily on Robin's conscience. The waste of life made him hold his tongue and berated himself for his callousness.

His regret was not to last however. No sooner than those windows opened did they suddenly close shut. The police reached for their radios before retreating. Abandoning the two superheroes in the middle of the street amidst the wreckage.

"What's going on?" Robin asked.

"Trouble." The Batman answered. "Get back!"

Robin turned to the wreckage of the Batmobile and watched it get tossed into a nearby building. Debris piled up on one part of the intersection. Blocking off all exits and forcing the two to fight through the hulking monstrocity snarled at them as it slowly got up to its feet.

The Batmobile gave it sizeable injuries but in no way did it hinder the monster's tracks. It remained strong as ever. Curious of all was how the monster's wounds were slowly healing. To the point that it was closing before Robin's very eyes. But not enough to close up its spilling guts that spewed toxic stomache acid with its every step. The smell was another problem and was something else entirely. Robin's nose burned after catching whiff of its rancid stench.

Running away was by no means an option. The monster stood in their way to the hospital. Getting through the giant was their only option. A near impossible one as its glowing and unblinking green eyes glared daggers at them. Its obvious hatred for them was clear and injired as it was, it had no plans of giving up or holding back.

Coincidentally enough, that was the only thing that the Batman and Robin had in common with the monster. The other reason the duo decided to make a stand against the monster was the most important one. If they couldnt take it down, who else in Gotham could?

Suffice to say, all three of them were too stubborn to give up.

"Ready Robin?" The Batman asked as he wore a pair of heavy duty metal gauntlets. shock gloves that coursed blue crackles of electricity.

"As I'll ever be, Batman." Robin replied with glee and took out his Bo Staff again at the ready.

"Quick and properly this time." The Batman said as his gauntlets erupted with the bright blue crackles of coursing electricity. Fearsome as it looked, it barely compared to his infamous Bat-Glare that he aimed towards the monster in front of them.

"Lets go." The Batman cried as the three of them clashed.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Prepare." Mateus growled the moment the elevator rumbled.

Its gears screeched as it came to a slow stop. His eyes glared at its battered doors. Leslie on the other hand stood uneasily behind him.

"Your path. Will be clear." Mateus said. "Because. they'll come for me. But stay out of. Sight. Regardless. Never lower your. Guard." Mateus turned to meet Leslie's eyes. "You ready?"

"Y-Yes." Lelsie nodded. Her fingers fidgeted next to her.

Mateus paid her a look just as he inserted a molotov bottle into his flamethrower's bottle.

"Pray. That you do." Mateus grunted. A click set the bottle's cloth aflame.

"Here. Take this." Leslie produced the last syringe of adrenaline from her pocket. "You're gonna have to apply this yourself this time though." She chuckled.

"I'm privy. To the works of. Medicine. Medicae." Mateus said as he took the syringe but not the joke that came with it.

The elevator shuddered to a full stop at the Ground Floor on the Western Wing. Leslie quickly pressed herself to cover just as the doors slowly creaked open. The doors parted to a dimly lit hallway barred by a ramshackle barricade of piled gurneys and chairs. Occupied by too loitering infected.

The pair stood in shock to witness an armoured man emerge from the screeching elevator. They were armed with guns but lacked wit to act fast. Wasting precious seconds in stunned shock that gave Mateus the window to strike first.

Mateus threw a molotov cocktail across the hall. An orange streak of fire trailed behind it before striking the barricade and the infected entrenched behind it. Their protection became their doom as a roaring inferno engulfed them. Their panicked screams mixed with the furious blaze that could only be matched by Mateus's bellowing voice.

"BURN! HERETICS!" Mateus shout "JUDGEMENT! IS HERE!"

The boy's challenge was heard as the floor rumbled beneath the heels of a horde of clapping footsteps. Mobs of shambling zombies and whooping infected swarmed at Mateus like moths to a flame. Ignoring all else as they clamored for his head only to lose their own when Mateus struck back with steel and fire. Spewing a flurry of curses and blood between every swing

Leslie was spared and hid behind the elevator's corners. As the doors screeched to a close, the last glimpse Leslie saw of Mateus was him disappearing amidst the filthy bodies of the Infected surrounding him. The elevator rumbled on with its only passenger. For the first time that day, Leslie was now truly alone.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Hospital's Cafeteria doors opened wide for Deacon Blackfyre. The Cultist Leader entered the slime pocked and putrid stenched room in ceremony. His followers bowed down to his presence as he passed.

It was a momentous occassion for the cult. But none looked forward to it more than Blackfyre himself. This was the culmination of all his hard work. The seeds that he had been sowing was soon to bear fruit. There was much to prepare for but the final stages for his plans were at hand. One that will come to be in that very room.

Excitements abound yet somehow, Blackfyre sensed that something was amiss. Like there was something missing or forgotten in his mind. Any thoughts about senility was thrown out the window. Nergal's gift of eternal life had seen to that. Yet the thoughts remain. And it irritated him to no end.

"Have the preparations been made, Peter?" Blackfyre asked his right hand man. Distancing himself away from his burdening thoughts.

"YeS, my MaSSstER." The Acolyte nodded. "WE hAVe cLeArED tHe pLAcSssE oF dEBriSss. ThEY mAdE FoR Good bARriCaDesSss. In AnD arOunD tHe hALLsSSs."

"Are we expecting an attack?" Blackfyre asked,

"I eXPecT a sSSiEge, mY mAstER."

"Do you expect us losing, child?"

"OnLy uNhOLy NuRglE wOUld saY, My MaSssTer. AsSs yOu hAVe pREacHeD." Peter bowed lower. "AnD AsSs yOu pREaChED, 'OnE cAnNoT sEe tHe hORiZon tiLL TherE iSss LiGHt. WhateVeR tHaT hORiZoN bRiNgs, At tHe vERy LeASss t We aRe pReParED."

"Good. Brother Peter. Very good." Blackfyre praised and lifted the Acolyte to his eyes. "Your council is always considered and appreciated. That is why you are as where you are. My most trusted follower. You are not the strongest. Nor the fiercest. Nor the smartest amongst us. But you have imagination and foresight. Powerful tools for what I have in store for this city."

"YoU hOnoR Me, mY mASteR, wITh yOuR wOrdSsss oF pRAiSsssE."

"Think nothing of it other than deserving." Blackfyre beamed with pride but this quickly faced to a shrouded shadow that towered over all. Now what of the ritual."

"BrOTheR jULiusSs. AnD SsisSstEr InA. ThEy'Ve fiNiSHed tHe TasK yoU haVe InsTRuctED, My mASssstER."

"Good. Good." Blackfyre said as he hobbled a few steps to the center of the room.

The Acolytes, Julius and Ina, both bowed low at Deacon Blackfyre's presence. A large circle was drawn behind them. Mere inches from the heels of their feet. Its lines and symbols were meticulously painted on by a revolting pigment of pus, filth, and pieces of rotting corpses

Fly bitten limbs and black tarred organs were set around the circle. Pieces were aligned to form the shapes of arrows pointing outwards. The outer line bore 7 runes. The inner line bore 3. The very center bore Nurgle's Mark. Complete with serpent like tendrils. Symbols that none knows or understand save for the Deacon himself and the Dark god that he serves.

"You've done well, my disciples." Blackfyre praised. "You have all done well."

"Rise, my loyal disciples." Blackfyre said. "You have done well. You all! Have done well."

His Acolytes gathered before him. Prostrating themselves around the Deacon with their heads kissing the floor. All the Infected present joined in. Clumsily imitating the act but at a close distance behind them.

"My children. Servants of the true god. Gotham is at an uproar." Blackfyre proclaimed. "Its streets are marred by death. Its people are wrought by fear. Its protectors are blinded by the madness we have unleashed. What better time than any, for us to move forward with our plans unmolested. The ruination of this city. The reaping of souls for our Almighty. The bounty to be had that all of us deserve. All of which will come to be, right under their noses."

The Infected cheered and laughed aloud. The Acolytes remained as they were. Kneeling beneath the Deacon's shadow like stone gargoyles.

"The true end is at hand. And it will be by our hand that we will prevail! By our hand, we unleash unleashing true chaos. Let Nurgle's hand reach out to this world!"

"IN NURGLE'S NAME" the crowd cheered. "GROTESQUE GLORY! GRACIOUS GORY! PRAISE BE TO HIM!"

"Then now! We sow his gift upon this city! Now, we reap the souls of this very city! IN NURGLE's WILL!" Blackfyre shouted with his dishevelled maggot ridden hands raised high.

"HIS WILL BE DONE!" The crowd cried aloud.

At the stamp of his staff, the crowds dispersed. Scattering to their duties in and out of the room. Pnly his Acolytes remained beneath Blackfyre's shadow prostrated. Motionless and utterly obedient to the Deacon's whims.

"I count five." Blackfyre said. "The ritual demands for seven. It will be troublesome with anything less." The Deacon scanned the lind. "We lack Brother Jonas.. and Brother Gregor. Must I ask? Speak."

It was Peter who rose his head to answer. "YoUR eXeLLeNcE. TheY ArE bEloW. IN tHe MoRGue."

"Still?" Blackfyre raised a brow. "It should not have taken long to raise the dead gathered there. What is taking them so long?"

"A rUNnEr wAs sENt, My dEAcOn." An Acolyte named Alaina answered. "He ShouLd Be bACk bY nOW."

No sooner was that said, the cafeteria doors bursted open. A lanky Infected man ran in and slipped under the grasp of the sentries. Never losing a hasty step or a croaking breath until he fell before the presence of the Deacon Himself.

Blackfyre's palm halted the guards in time. The latter's blades were mere seconds away from striking down the supposed intruder.

"I take it that you are Brother Peter's runner?" Blackfyre asked.

"I-I-I am. Y-y-y-your Glorious-sness." The man panted in between wheezing breaths.

"yEs." Alayna assured. "ThIS oNe Is mINe."

"That so?" Blackfyre said. Amused. "Remind me of this one. It may be of use to me."

"WhAt i HavE wAs aLrEAdy YoUrs, My lOrD." Alayna said.

"And what message do you bring to me, runner?" Blackfyre asked. Using his staff to raise the lowly grunt's head. "Have they finished what they were needed to do down there?"

"Y-y-yes. M-m-my Lord," the runner twitched furiously. "Y-y-your army. G-g-gathers in the lobby. All t-t-the zombies are prepared."

"Wonderful. And my Acolytes?"

The runner blinked. He looked sheepishly in the floor. His voice had abandoned him alng with his words.

"ThE MaSTer AsKeD yOu a QuEStIoN, wHeLP!" Alayna stuck the man down and then lifted him by the back of his neck. "AnswER!"

The Acolyte Alayna struck the man once more with the back of her hand. Sending the poor damned soul sliding off on the filthy floor. Alayna tightened the bandages on her arm for another salvo but stopped short when Deacon Blackfyre raised his staff between the,.

"What has happened to my Acolytes? What has become to Brother Enoch and Brother Jonas?" Blackfyre asked the runner menacingly. "I do not sense them anymore. I fear for the worst but I'd rather not settle for that just yet. Not before I hear it from you. And you will answer."

"D-d-dead, m-m-m-my D-d-d-deacon." The Runner answered. Urinating himself out of fear. "L-l-lord E-eenoch. H-h-he isss. He is Dead. Dead!"

Silence siezed the room. A few hushed whispers began spreading amongst the Infected like wildfire. Fuelled by fear and alarm. Even the Acolytes werent spared from these skepticisms amidst their own state of shock. So much so that they broke from their stances and raised their heads. All eyes warily fell to Deacon Blackfyre himself who was left utterly speechless.

"Impossible." Deacon Blackfyre grabbed the runner by the collar and hissed. "That cannot be."

"T-t-tis t-t-t-true, my Master D-D-Deacon. I have seen it. Yes. Seen it myself." The Runner sputtered. "H-h-his bloodied head. H-h-h-his battered body. Limp. I-i-it is all true. My M-M-Master. As much as I do not want to believe it. It is true."

Blackfyre fumed at the news. His eyes became bloodshot. Black blood trickling out from his sockets. His jaws gnashed chunks from his rotten teeth. Noxious fumes blew pit from his bulging pores like steam.

Blessed by Nurgle himself, his Acolytes were meant to be the heralds of his Will. Chosen followers by the Dark god. Touched by disease and life. Untouched by death. No weapon

"And how. Pray tell. Is that fucking PoSsiBLe?" Blackfyre maliciously asked. Violently shaking the man. "Now Who? Or what is responsible or capable of something that js impossible?"

"The Red-Eyed Wraith!" The Runner cried aloud. "As Acolyte Jonas claimed!"

"The Red-Eyed Wraith?" Blackfyre hissed in disbelief. His head swirled with questions that it almost made him dizzy. "What the fuck is he doing here? How is he able to kill my Servant? My immortal Acolyte?"

"I-i-i do not know. My M-m-master. I don't know. I don't know. I swear!"

"And of Brother Jonas? What's become of him?"

"Ssstill bel-below." The Runner grinned. "Ssswearing t-t-t-to face the beast. H-h-he made it his crusade. T-t-to slay the demon."

Those words sent the battered Runner scrambling on the floor. Freed from the Deacon's coarse bony fingers. This was no cause for comfort for the scrawney Infected however. Fear of the Deacon gripped him still and tighter. Causing the scrawny memory of a man to humble himself and cower before his Master's presence.

"Good. Good." Blackfyre smiled. His monstrous form had dissipated. The tar and the mucus on his eyes were wiped clean by his beard. "Jonas is a true...and more than capable warrior. He is more that able to rid us of our...pest."

Amidst his chuckling, his Acolyte Peter approached him with the expected curtesy.

"If I mAy, My DeACoN." Peter asked with visible hesitation. "BroThER EnOCh wAs aN aCOLytE. NuRgLe'S bLEsSeD. ToUChEd bay liFE. NeveR bY DeATh. GuNShoT. BlaDe. FaTe. NoNe cAn sWAy oR SlaY hIm."

"And your point, Brother Peter?" Blackfyre asked.

"How iS iT pOSsiBLe tHat hE Did?"

How indeed? That very question swirled in his head harder than all the others. A question everyone was asking, yet one that Deacon Blackfyre had none to say. Not only did this escalate direness of the situation but was also burdened as a challenge to his authority. Blackfyre knew that he must find an answer. Whatever that may be.

"He simply lacked faith." Blackfyre lied. "Almighty Nurgle blesses those who are faithful to him. That includes his gift of immortality. Brother Enoch failed that test. And he paid for it with his life. A lesson for all of you to remember."

Blackfyre knew that Brother Peter was smarter than all of his other Acolyte and wondered whether he sold the lie well. True to form, the Acolyte said nothing nor was there a change in his tone. The man instead brought another question to the table.

"WhAt oF tHAt mAn?" Peter asked. "WhaT iS hE? wHaT dO yOu MaKe OF tHEm? AbLe tO fAcE Us In tHe DaRKnESsss oF tHe uNdErWORld. CapabLE oF FaCinG tHe BaTMaN. wHAT DoeS ThAt mAKe hIm?"

"A bloody nuisance, that's what he is." Deacon Blackfyre spat. "An obstacle we are meant to overcome." The Deacon turned to the rest of his brood and stamped his staff with a thundrous clap. "This is but a test you see. Yes. A test. Lord Nurgle trusted us of dealing with anything that dare bar our path. This Wraith is no different. And Our Brother Jonas will remedy that fear."

"HoW SssO, mY MaSSstEr?" Peter asked.

"By quashing the rumors and stamping out the legends born of the Red-Eyed Wraith as they are. As we will do to him! That's all these are you see. Mere stories. Nothing more. He will prove to us the mortality of that mere man. Starting with his head."

No sooner did he say that did the Hospital's intercom come to life. An earsplitting blare erupted from the old hospital's many speakers. The ones they heard came from far corners of the cafeteria. The far ends of the hallways and offices on every floor. And some from the tall posts outside of the building to be heard in the streets.

The sound was startling enough to many of the Infected inside the hospital to cup their hands or howled in pain from its wall scrapimg sound.

Even Leslie inside the elevator fell victim to the noise stabbing at her ears. Loud enough for the people outside within a few blocks to hear its tune. Lootings and riots ceased on their tracks. Even Batman, Robin, and the Beast paused on their duel. All turned to the noise's sound with curiousity.

To the Acolytes and the Deacon in its epicenter, it was no more than a nuisance. But what came next was enough to make them seethe in fury.

It began with the sound of breathing as soon as the screeching feedback ended. His breathing. Slow and heavy with a particular eeriness that was enough to make any listener's hair crawl up their spines.

"This. Is Arbitrator Nidarr. Of the Adeptus Arbites. And His Holy. Inquisition."

His voice was as coarse as gravel. Like a saw cutting through bone. A voice heard by every ear in and around the white stone walls of Gotham Hospital.

"This city. This planet. Has been devoid. Of The Emperor's Light for too. Long. But never. Will it be. Denied. All are subject. To His Will. His Laws. Why else would He. Send me here? I came at the right time. To enforce both."

"Where is this coming from?" Blackfyre asked in alarm.

"My dEAcON!" Peter cried. "HE cOUlD oNLy Be UsiNg tHe InTeRcom! ThE oNe iN tHe LoBbY?"

"What?" Blackfyre exclaimed in disbelief. "Why would he..."

The Deacon came to a pause when the Arbitrator addressed them in his speech.

"Heretics. Criminals. Demon Worshippers. In the short time I've. Tread on this city. I've encountered. And killed. Every. Last. One I found. You Blackfyre Cultists. You are no different. For the crimes. Of Murder. Sedition. Insurrection. Attempted. Murder of an Arbite. And Heresy. All of you are Guilty. All of you a sentenced. To Excommunicate Traitoris. Beware. For the Law is here. And I know no mercy."

That said, the entire hospital and the grounds outside was given a moment of silence. Only the rustling static from the unattended microphone was heard. Droning on with a crackling hum.

XXXXXXXXXXX

A/N: Hope you kids liked the chapter. More is to come and the end of this Arc. Feel free to Follow the story and leave a review. I love hearing feedback and possible ideas for future chapters.

On a serious note. Though Nurgle is not present in our world, Covid-19 is. Take care of yourselves out there and best of health. Lets get our lives back together.