Chapter 6: Secrets of The Soul
More chapters on my (P)atreon at Saintbarbido.
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(General P.O.V)
He had no sentience before that night.
Just a bundle of aggression, pain and anger that manifested from a small boy's hate for the world.
A hate born out of having no one to depend on in a city that was rife with crime and suffering. Especially for the ones on the lower end of the spectrum. The less fortunate.
Whether through the machinations of a higher being or a simple fluke, that hate would eventually grow into something dangerous. A tool that could be aimed at the enemy.
What would happen then, if that tool was to gain understanding and reason...
(Davian's P.O.V)
"No... a hado straight through the Saketsu wouldn't simply take away your soul reaper powers, it would also outright kill you."
Gordon's mouth moved. The voice sounded nonchalant with a hidden viciousness to it.
The spirit traced a finger to the left side of my chest, in between my shoulder and my sternum, digging his claw on my skin and drawing more blood.
"I don't want to kill you."
He told me.
I almost laughed. The braids of Reiryoku going through my chest begged to differ. I could feel them...hum in fact, bringing out many questions. Like how was I not dead? Could the soul be that different from the Physical body? Actually yeah, Soul reapers in Bleach could sustain almost unreasonable levels of damage and be as right as rain the next day.
"...I want kill you and be done with it but it's not that simple! A part of me what's you to live. To thrive! And I hate that part!"
He spat out in disgust, part of the lips I could see curling down.
"Why now? After all the pain of those years...you can't just rewind all that. I am battling myself now and it's annoying." The voice went slightly unhinged and desperate.
"Death would take me with you if I took away your life. But I want to...live. To savor their pain, like they did mine... ours."
The anger and dislike I carried for him faded slightly. His words... reminded me of the past. A past I had grown to accept but one that had left behind many old scars.
The other thing I noted was the way he worded the first part. It was strange. He spoke as if Death was a real person.
"Things are skewed now. So different from before."
He pushed away from me, platforms of purple Reishi forming under his feet. His back to me, he fully faced the encompassing misty terrain of the cemetery.
"Even this place has changed."
He stated in a nostalgic heavy tone.
"It's only supposed to be me, yet I am not alone. This desolate ground. Ripe with the pain of all who dared take from us. This was supposed to be all you see, a never ending graveyard. Ones marked with the graves of everyone we killed and shall kill. That Hollow Land, it's not meant to be here. It's so...empty. So hunger inducing."
A throaty laughter escaped Gordon's mouth.
"Whatever made me possible...it also changed us. And now it feels as if you're not you, but how can you not be you, when I am me?"
He was making no sense.
"You're...insane."
I wasn't afraid to tell him either. His back stiffened upon my words, a clawed hand opening and closing in an irritated motion.
"Aren't we all?"
He questioned through Gordon.
The former's body jerked, his limbs getting surrounded by strings from the grid, lifting him up to the sky next to me. I groaned, trying my best to ignore the raw sensation of pain my body was feeling.
It wasn't the first time shit the fan. My rocky start in the DC universe only seemed to get even rockier and I was close to losing my shit. 'Power...' I thought with a thirst born out of being so helpless. I kept on flexing my limbs and any other parts of my body I could, to try and escape the bindings.
The pain stopped me from wiggling too much. The other thing I tried to do was connect to the Sheath. Use it for anything. No matter how much I tried to call it to me though, it failed to leave his grip.
Everything seemed kind of hopeless, really.
The gray sky reflected the bleakness of my situation. I had come from a fight straight to another one. This shit...I wasn't ready for any of it. I was barely level 2, everyone else was either much more skilled or much more powerful or both.
'It's not over yet.'
My gaze returned to study him. There had to be a way to beat this lunatic. And if he really was my Zanpakuto, then not only was beating him possible but I could make him submit. I was going to need the power of a Zanpakuto if I was to face beings like Doomsday, Superman and Darkseid.
I had made a promise to Nick's memory. There was no way I was going to squander this second chance.
It didn't matter that all of it reminded me of prison, one of the worst experiences of my life. I would beat it, just the same.
When shit hit the fan in the slammer, you had to punch back as hard as you got. Then when the guards came in to break up the fight, the ass whooping and a trip to Solitary confinement was at least worth it.
Through all that, I had built up a sort of mental practice where I could disassociate myself from the pain of bruised knuckles, tender joints from the cramped space of solitary confinement and the reality of my fucked up situation. Prison messes you up man.
This body wasn't as hardened but my will had never been stronger.
"Gordon...can you hear me?" I looked at the police commissioner next to me in the air. He made no reaction.
"Fight it! He can't do worse to you than what any of the freaks in Gotham have tried. He can't do worse than the joker!"
Gordon begun laughing.
"Oh trust me, I can."
The Spirit's voice said menacingly.
My heart sank.
The Zanpakuto spirit turned around.
"Did you forget what I am?"
Like a ghost, he drifted to my back.
"I am your darkness. If you were a god, I would be your divine punishment. I understand how you think. You can't hide anything."
He grabbed the sides of my head.
"I know how your mind operates..."
That's a lie. That can't be true.
A cold sensation gripped my soul. He couldn't possibly...
"You can't read my mind."
I replied confidently.
While the relationship between a Zanpakuto and its master was very personal, to the point of each bringing out the best out of each other when working in tandem, it didn't reach a level where one could read the memory of the other.
None of the Soul Reapers I knew about had that sort of power. They could speak telepathically but accessing memories without consent was basically impossible.
He let me go.
One minute suspended in a world of pain, the next huh...
...still suspended in a world of pain.
He had released me, loosening the hold the grid had on my body, only to slam me face first onto the ground. The only thing I could do was clench my jaw and let the taste of blood on my mouth grow as I accidentally bit my tongue and lost a tooth.
His knee dug onto the small of my back.
"I don't need to read your memories to know you, Davian Mabuz. 19 years old, orphan, selfish, abandoned, hurt. You had to scramble for everything we got. The orphanage, they wouldn't understand how cruel children, especially those who have grown up knowing no happiness, can be."
I struggled as he ranted. 19 yrs. old? Yeah I was an orphan and selfish and all those other things, however last I checked, I was 25. He was wrong...how could he be so wrong about something so obvious?
Then my mind started going through everything he had said earlier.
For starters, he seemed to have a split personality. As much as I was tempted to ask all my burning questions, I knew that it would have been much better if he revealed it by himself. Villains and monologues, am I right?
A voice at the back of my head was curious to understand it all. One answer I landed on that was a big part of the mystery of what he actually was, was...maybe this wasn't my Zanpakuto spirit.
Then to match the answer another question made itself apparent, how could he not know that the real Davian was dead?
The sheath! I can feel it!
My hand snaked out to grab it but was instead was batted aside. But I was ready.
A green bubble shield exploded from the sheath, pushing him off me and to the side. I rolled away, kicking out at the shadow I spotted from the corner of my eyes.
My ankle was grabbed in a tight and rough grip, then the sky and ground switched positions as I was slammed onto my back, digging a small crater on the gray soil. Not only breath, spit and blood also exploded out of my mouth. The wound on my chest that had slowly been closing up opened again. Fresh blood added to the scarlet color on my t-shirt.
Purple eyes appeared in my vision. I grunted, throwing a punch only to have it blocked and my nose flattened on my face. My vision swam as my head flopped back onto the ground. Everything was tinted red.
"Are you done?"
Gordon floated to my side, the voice coming off him still so alien.
"Never."
I spat before hitting the Spirit's elbow to pull him close and smash my forehead onto his face.
Blackish thick blood spouted off his hood as he backed away, grabbing his nose in pain.
"Fuck..."
With teeth died red, I started laughing. The Spirit turned to me angrily.
"Oomph!"
Breath left me as a foot landed on my belly. The pain was blinding. Then he grabbed the material of my t-shirt, shaking me a little.
"But even!" I jerked in his hold, throwing another punch at his throat that was stopped by his palm. Then he squeezed.
"Aaargggghhh..."
The pain from crushed fingers almost made me vomit to the side. I felt my face get grabbed roughly.
"Will you stop fighting and just listen!?"
I stopped, breathing heavily. With my nose as fucked up as it was, it sounded more like wheezing.
I was in a bad state but it wasn't anything new. My head rolled to the side and I saw Gordon, standing in place like a zombie, his will dominated. I needed to save us. There wasn't an if...I was our only chance.
Me trying to save a cop, how ironic.
(Davian's P.O.V)
Brown eyes met purple in a clash of wills. He had me beat but I conveyed as much conviction as I could through my look. I was going to get out of here, one way or another.
"But even without the happiness, you tried to make something work. You tried the rules." His voice settled back to it's confident tone. There was an underlying edge that I sensed though.
"And then, they took something from you. A gang dressed like a bunch of clowns decided to fuck with us. That first time you let me out... hahaha! IT WAS GLORIOUS!"
The glee I could feel in his tone at the thought of hurting them was too much. It took me back to 'that' time. Back when I was younger and didn't know better.
And I hated it enough to begin my struggles anew. My muscles strained at the effort of trying to buckle him off. The strength he could exert unfortunately turned out to be much greater.
"Struggle and fight...it won't make a difference."
I felt claws clutch my throat.
"You were horrified by what you did. I couldn't understand it then. I wasn't equipped with what I know now. I wasn't equipped with the sentience to understand that I was a sharp tool wielded with blatant carelessness by a hurt child!"
His chest rose up and down with heavy exhales.
A trail of blood fell down my neck from the claws.
"Hahaha, oh but with the horror came this...justification. You had power and you could use it to save that rotten city."
Ok, new plan, let him talk as I heal up and when an opening arrives, I'm taking it.
He patted my head.
"But you were smart. You knew Gotham had long been a cess pool of corruption. And with your power, getting corrupted would have ensured the death of a lot of people. Naturally, I wouldn't have minded. But that's just me. I was fine with not knowing what good was."
"You see; you couldn't control me. Hell! I couldn't control myself because I knew no better! So you decided to ask for help and who better than Commissioner Gordon?"
"He was the epitome of truth and fair justice, working within the confines of a law filled with biased, greedy and corrupt law makers."
The fact that he was using Gordon as a medium, ironic as it was, added another layer of 'Fucked up' to the situation.
'Gotta keep him talking, my eyesight is getting better...'
"He provided you with the perfect foil."
He pointed a clawed finger at Gordon. "Someone who could tell you when you were too close to the edge. Someone who could do what needed to be done when it was needed."
"Someone who could...kill the Joker. Gordon was not above the savior complex." He chuckled.
"If it meant saving a population of 10 million from a mad man then surely...one pathetic life was worth it, right?"
He trailed off.
The last part made my mind buzz at the revelation.
My head was roughly shoved down as he rose up, breathing in deeply.
"So you see, I know you. I know all about the secret meeting. The mission to save Gotham from the Joker and the other genocidal maniacs running around...but it's never quite easy is it?"
He laughed lowly.
With every single word I heard, I questioned what I knew of DC. For the most part, villains were villains and heroes were heroes. Yet...if Gordon really compromised the no kill rule for the sake of the city, without Batman's knowledge then...it wasn't all black and white.
It wasn't fiction. This was their reality and now, it's mine too.
"What would Batman do if he realized that one of his best allies could fall to the darkness just as fast a regular goon? Then again, the easy way out is always the...easiest."
More laughter bubbled out of him.
"You see, I don't even need your memories, Davian." He continued.
"I have mine; I just couldn't understand what I overheard or saw back then. But everything happening around you, I stored it in some deep recess of my being. I couldn't understand any of it in the past, but now I do. Which is why I don't understand you!"
I felt a kick connect to the side of my chest, throwing me away. Breath left my body as I clipped my shoulder on another gravestone, breaking it under my form. 'Not yet.'
"I could take the scared, cold yet decisive you over this cocky, cool, moral code, know it all version. You've lost every fight you've been in because you don't understand your role. It's why I want to kill you so bad! You need to stand back and let me do the Killing. That was the deal!"
He snarled.
"But the real you seemed to die that night! That night the Joker decided to fuck with the Bat, by kidnapping a few kids from the Orphanage. You let me out...and it was...so freeing, I got a little...carried away."
He paused looking lost.
"The city shone with so much...ripe pain. It was beautiful. My mind...I could feel it increase as I understand a fundamental truth to life. I was on the cusp of something profound...And then I woke up here. And nothing was the same."
He grabbed me off the ground by my neck.
"The Cemetery. Home. I had a neighbor...tell my what you did that night."
He growled out, advice grip on my neck.
"I could think, I could review, I could feel. No longer was it all mindless. Whatever happened that night, changed everything. Even you. But more than that, it showed me the difference. I need to know why I... look...like...THIS!"
He gripped the edge of his hood and tore it off completely. I inhaled in shock. Most of his face was cat like, but the other part of it, was a writhing mass of worms. The disgust on my face earned me a sharp punch to my belly.
"You have no right to stare at me like that."
He pointed at the writhing mass of worms on the side of his head.
"My real form was efficient and now... I'm changing into...this."
He trailed a sharp claw over the fur covering all of the right side of his head.
"My Home is splitting into two and while I can think, my mind is not exclusively my own."
The eyes were wide as his voice seemed to echo all around us.
It came out in a rush of information.
"Something else is taking over. Things leaking over to my mind that I am not supposed to know. They're not my memories. I don't remember ever being a Zanpakuto before, so why do I feel so strongly that that is what I am? A sword that is the manifestation of a soul reaper's powers. Instinctive knowledge that was not there before. How do you explain all that?"
He released me, stumbling back and pressing his palms onto his head.
"Why do I feel like I'm not your..."
Immediately, I called the Sheath he had dropped during this...panic attack? Over to me.
It landed in my hands and with the creation of a bubble shield around me, I slumped to the ground in relief. The shield would give me a little time to recover and plan.
More than that however, everything finally clicked into place.
He'd given me the clues.
Just as I had taken over the real Davian's body, the change seemed to be spiritual as well. His abilities...were they even Soul Reaper or Hollow powers in the first place? I don't know. Maybe they changed to accommodate me. My mind, coming up with its own interpretation to what this potent energy inside my soul was.
Even that made little sense.
But I think I understood everything now.
Parallel Davian had had a power. One that in my eyes resembled that of a hollow. After I found myself in his body, my soul had also been influenced by his Reiryoku, in turn enabling me to gain my own Reiryoku.
And with that and getting a Zanpakuto in the form of a longsword, I simply assumed that the spirit before me was 'my' Zanpakuto spirit. But what if instead of that being the case, Parallel Davian's abilities and my own would fuse as our energy signatures started vibrating at the same frequency. We were alternate versions of each other after all.
His 'Hollow' spirit and my 'zanpakuto spirit' fused into this...unholy combo.
That was why my inner world was split into two, a cemetery and now the hollow like landscape. Then the Hollow thought I was 19 when I was 25 and finally, he claimed he was changing forms from a mass of worms to adopting cat like features. I saw it as an upgrade though.
The same ones I had come to associate with my hollow powers before I even knew everything about my situation.
He wasn't my Zanpakuto.
He wasn't Davian's hollow either.
What I was seeing was an incomplete fusion. One that had come out...wrong. A merger between two similar souls.
Two Zanpakuto spirits. Mine and Parallel Davian's. It made sense why a part of him wanted to kill me and another didn't.
The only difference being parallel Davian was dead and I was the one holding the leashes.
And as I blinked the haze of pain away, I could detect through Reikaku, with the spirit being as close as it was, a phantom behind him. One of a boy with Silver hair, staring blank faced down at me.
I closed my eyes. I see.
"You never really moved on." I muttered, laying a flat palm on the shield.
I coughed, feeling the heaviness in my chest steadily reduce.
"You can't accept the truth because you have given yourself wholly to hate. Davian...your Davian, a part of him has never left your side."
His body stiffened. Only to slump as the phantom of Alternate Davian placed a hand on the Spirit's shoulder. He went silent, face looking out to the Cemetery.
I knew what I needed to do. Looking down at the Sheath in my hand then back at the phantom hanging around the spirit, it was clear that I was getting only one chance at this.
"You let me take over didn't you, Davian? You saved me from hell...you traded places...why?"
I needed to understand why anyone would do that.
The phantom of the teen, dressed the same as I would have been, blue T-shirt, black jeans and some worn out sneakers smiled a little.
That smile told me everything I needed to know.
I took a shuddering breath and released the bubble shield. With a firm grip on the Sheath, I stood behind him...no, it's 'them.'
Time to earn my keep as a Soul Reaper. Time to perform the Konso.
(General P.O.V)
Dull sounds rang out across the training room. Fists rained down on a punching bag with a ferocity and speed that was surprising to see in a 12-year-old. But Dick Grayson was no normal 12-year-old, he was Robin.
"Mmmh."
Someone cleared their throat from the entrance of the gym.
"What do you want Alfred? You've been standing there for the last 5 minutes."
Dick said, narrowing his eyes at the punching bag.
"Oh so you noticed?"
Alfred asked in a sarcastic tone.
"Hard not to, when I can feel your judgmental gaze at my back."
Robin was only too quick to counter.
"No, not judgmental sir. I surely wouldn't dare."
Alfred replied, placing a tray with a towel and a misty glass of orange juice on top of a rack.
Dick made an annoyed grunt as his frown changed into a scowl.
"Just say it. You're disappointed in me."
The young boy punctuated his words with a heavy punch to the bag, jostling it back roughly.
"Sorry Alfred, I didn't mean to be rude."
He begrudgingly but quickly apologized with a sigh.
The Butler said nothing. Then a palm gently landed on Dick's shoulder.
His hands went slack as he turned towards the older man with a confused expression.
"A glass of Orange juice, Master Dick?"
Alfred offered.
Dick blinked, the confusion deflating out of him. He smiled.
"Yeah, I wouldn't mind."
(30 minutes later)
"And remember, manners maketh a man."
Alfred told the young boy as they stood before a door.
Dick rolled his eyes.
"Yes, yes. I'll be careful not to ruin the Wayne family reputation."
He replied in an over the top British accent. The unimpressed look Alfred sent his way made him straighten his shirt and clear his throat.
"Sorry."
He muttered.
"Stop fiddling with your bowtie."
Alfred simply huffed at him before stepping forward and knocking politely.
"Yes. Who is it?"
Raven's bored voice asked from within the room.
"You have guests, miss Roth. The polite thing would be to answer the door."
Alfred response was soft but firm.
There was silence from the other side.
A few short seconds later, the door swung open. Raven stood in the doorway wearing...
"He got you too, huh?"
Dick snickered at the Purple dress, a silver necklace and short heels that Raven was in.
The goth girl narrowed her eyes.
"I hate myself for agreeing to this. And I hate you for reminding me of it."
Robin chuckled. Then a hand landed on his shoulder and he tensed.
"Ah...you look good."
He lamely corrected himself.
"You look lovely, miss Roth."
Alfred added with more genuine honesty, slightly pushing Dick forward.
The meaning was very direct. Introduce yourself.
Robin gulped,
"Uh...hi, Dick Grayson. Bruce Wayne is my adopted Father."
The younger boy offered his hand for her to shake.
Raven took a minute before answering, studying his face with a slight suspicion.
"You can call me Raven. I have never seen you before. Not once since Zatara abandoned us here."
Raven shook his hand.
Dick looked at Alfred from the corner of his eye. The Butler was as silent as ever. It was up to Dick as the Wayne scion to give a proper answer.
"He...didn't abandon you. Zatara is a Justice League member. He's probably too busy dealing with crazy sorcerers trying to take over the planet."
Raven crossed her arms over her chest and snorted.
"Doubt it."
Then she turned to Alfred.
"I wouldn't really care about it that much, but he's the only one who can tell me anything about Kent, because apparently you don't know anything."
The statement was delivered in a dry monotone.
'Oh crap'
Dick tried hard not to spare a look Alfred's way.
"Huh..."
Dick shook his head.
"Details about League affiliates are kept under tight security. There's not much to tell."
Dick tightened his hand into a fist to the point the nails almost bit into his skin.
Raven studied his eyes for any falsehoods before looking away.
Dick sighed, stepping forward.
"Hey look, I'm sorry about all this."
Raven nodded, smiling slightly.
For Dick, the smile only made him feel worse. He hated they were lying to her but...Batman had decided to keep the news of Kent's passing a secret. Why? Dick understood that it was because he didn't trust Raven and Davian but according to him, it was wrong not to tell them.
It was why they had gotten into a shouting match that had ended up with Dick shouting at Bruce, telling him that he wasn't his real dad. Bruce's taciturn eyes had flashed with hurt and anger, then he had turned away and left.
Dick felt bad about that but he still hated that he had to keep such a secret.
"We must make haste. I think I left something on the timer."
Alfred clapped his hands and turned to gesture at the hall.
"If you wouldn't mind, the dining room is just this way."
Raven looked unsure, glancing at the door right next to her room. It had been almost 2 weeks already and Davian was yet to wake up.
"I assure you miss Roth; your friend will be fine. We have measures in case of anything."
Alfred told her.
With one final glance, Raven shrugged and followed after Dick, catching up to him as Alfred walked on a little ahead.
"Hey, I'm sorry about your friend." Dick expressed his understanding.
"It sucks to be stuck in a bed."
"Mmh." Raven hummed, thinking about how crazy her life had gotten. Just over a week ago, she was part of a suicide group with killers. Now she was in the home of one of the richest men on the planet.
"You never answered why I've never seen you around before."
Raven told Dick as they rounded up the corner before taking the stairs to the ground floor.
"Yeah... Sorry about that." The dark haired, blue eyed boy scratched his head.
"Between school and huh...extracurricular activities, I had a really packed week."
He laughed a little. 'Kicking Clayface on the face after he escaped Arkham.', he added to himself.
Raven stared at him weirdly before she decided to be 'nice'. Davian had told her she needed to work on her people skills.
"Believe it or not, I can relate."
She replied neutrally.
Soon they arrived at the dinner table and while Raven was used to such opulence settings back in Azarath, she was still surprised by the set up.
There were scarlet curtains framing a huge window that looked out into the Wayne Manor's backyard, a huge long table that could seat 10 people at a time. Then on the ceiling was a chandelier that reflected light beautifully from the dozens of scented candles in the middle of the dinner table.
The walls of the room were covered in all manner of art. Raven even recognized some famous art pieces despite knowing nothing about art.
'It looks like a fancy ball room.'
The most outstanding thing inside the chamber was the massive chair at the head of the table. Polished black with beautiful cursive decorations, there was no mistake that the 'throne' was meant for the head of the house, Bruce Wayne.
She took one of the chairs, pulling it out before Dick could do it for her. The boy shrugged and took the seat next to her, vaulting over the table in a backflip, when Alfred's back was turned.
"I saw that."
Alfred stated, setting up a few cutleries. Dick threw up his hands.
"I swear, it's like you have eyes at the back of your head."
Alfred held up a plate.
"They're called reflections, sir."
He delivered in a tone dryer than what even Raven could make.
Raven tried hard not to smile.
"You do acrobatics."
She noted, placing her hands on the table. She needed to have free range of movement in order to quickly cast a spell in case of an emergency.
"Yeah. Since I could remember. My family used to work in a circus."
He replied with a fond smile. Then it slipped off his face.
Raven understood without Dick saying more. Anyone who had lost someone important knew that look.
"Is there someone else joining us?"
She asked, motioning with her chin at the plate set before the chair at the head of the table.
"Master Bruce is occupied at the moment. He should be joining us in about an hour."
Alfred answered, standing at a spot next to the chair with a few napkins folded over his arm.
(Watchtower)
"I scouted the place."
Canary informed the room as she pulled up images of a small manor, standing in between a portion of land, covered by a small wood.
The hall itself was less than half occupied. Most of the Justice League members were not present. Superman was dealing with a tsunami situation in Japan, a couple of others were off world to see the Flash.
Those who were around, 5 in total, sat around the meeting hall, listening as Canary explained her findings.
"The Orphanage was founded over 30 years ago. Though it used to be a summer home belonging to one of Gotham's elite families, the Crowne family."
A reel with a few pictures showing a family of 3 standing in front of a large black gate appeared on the holographic projection. Behind the gate was a relatively small manor.
"Then it was procured by a very interesting party after The Crowne's family downfall."
Batman frowned as a picture of a certain crime boss appeared on the display.
"The Calabrese crime family. It was supposed to be a high end casino due to its location near the outskirts of the city."
'Selina'
Batman frowned. Cat woman, real name: Selina Kyle was the daughter of Rex Calabrese. Batman hoped there wasn't a connection between them and whatever else was happening. His worries were put to rest upon Canary's next words.
"The city officially acquired the property after the Calabrese family was destroyed and some of its members imprisoned, during a gang war in 1977. The city decided to turn it into an Orphanage."
"Quite the history lesson but forgive me for asking what this has to do with anything."
Captain Atom spoke up.
Canary nodded in understanding, her eyes briefly gazing at the gloomy looking Dark Knight.
"19 years ago, a basket with a baby was left at the doorstep of the orphanage. The matron remembers the gate being closed and in the morning there were no discernible steps around the Orphanage grounds. So the case was pretty strange."
The display changed yet again to show a picture of a brown parchment of paper with a few words written on it.
"Then it got even stranger."
Canary breathed out.
"Well, for me at least. You see under the blanket was this note, which if you read..." She magnified the image.
"To the man who fears the bats, you will kill him again."
Aquaman read it out loud, every eye snapping towards Batman.
The Dark Knight interlocked his fingers.
"A message. For me."
He growled out.
"Let me guess, the word 'bat' gave it away."
Green Arrow joked, smirking while blocking the quick slap to the back of his head from his girlfriend. Then he was flicked on the forehead by her other hand.
"Ow."
He rubbed the spot and glared at her. Black Canary turned to Batman.
"The message is from 19 years ago. Before Batman was ever a thing. It's sound like this boy and you are connected to something deeper, Batman."
"Maybe we can..."
"Beep beep"
"Beep beep"
Batman was up on his feet in a split second, fingers running across his wrist computer.
A hologram of floor plans appeared in 3d above his arm. He frowned, turning to leave.
The others who had watched the whole thing looked at each other.
"Wait, Batman..."
Green Arrow tried to stop him.
"We'll continue this later."
The Dark Knight said, approaching the Zeta tube, cape flaring behind.
"What happen..."
Canary tried to ask.
"Security Alert at Wayne Tower. The power went off."
"Recognized Batman: 02."
(General P.O.V)
"Shadow them. Ensure that Kobra does not mess this up. He underestimates the Detective."
Ra's Al Ghul informed Deathstroke. The latter stood behind the Demon's Head in a straight posture. His hands were crossed over his huge chest, the pommel of his signature swords jutting out from his back.
Two handguns were strapped to the belt on his hip, completing his arsenal. The weapons while lethal, were not as sharp and cold as his one visible eye, staring at the leader of the League of Shadows.
Ra's was looking towards the cliff side. The view was different now. The cliff used to shield the first rays of the sun from hitting the training yard. Now the light was too glaring for the students, disrupting morning practice.
Naturally they knew who was responsible and under normal circumstances, his Shadows would have had their heads on a pike. But this time, it was a special case. The one responsible, according to Cheshire's report, was an uncontrollable rage monster.
Davian Mabuz.
The boy had seemingly disappeared into thin air. Not only that but losing the Martian agent had hurt their dealings with their 'friend'. Not that the Light had put a considerable amount of effort into making sure there was never a fallout between them and the White Martians. However mutual benefits were never a bad thing.
They had to answer to that and that meant hurrying up some of their plans. Davian Mabuz needed to be brought in, yes. But more than that, the bigger picture took precedence.
On a personal level, Ra's had his men looking for the boy.
That kind of power in the hands of the Light or to be more specific, the League of Shadows would be invaluable. Place the boy under Ra's best tutors and he could fashion him into a weapon that could be utilized to guide humanity into the right path.
It the boy proved himself exceptionally well then, maybe he could become what Ra's had been looking for all this time, an heir to inherit his Legacy.
That was his big picture. The members of the Light were just lucky they all had a common enemy.
"Are you really concerned about Kobra or is this something else, master?"
Sensei, an old man enquired from opposite Ra's. That old man was but a child in the eyes of Ra's.
He'd watched Sensei grow up in the dark halls of the League of Shadow's headquarters. To him he was but a young boy. A young boy who could almost best him in chess, owing to the board in between them.
"Mmh..."
Ra's hummed, giving the impression of thinking about his next move.
Deathstroke snorted softly.
"It's about 'him' isn't it?"
"Watch your tone boy. Do not forget your place when you address the Demon's Head."
Sensei admonished in a cold voice.
Deathstroke narrowed his eye at him. Before any tension could form, Ra's waved a hand.
"Enough."
He made a move, picking off one of Sensei's pawns.
"Out of all I have had the privilege to instruct, even in passing, only a few truly stand out. Lady Shiva...she's the deadliest. A cold hearted executioner."
He moved his Queen around, taking away most of Sensei's pieces.
His finger tapped on the Rook.
"Slade Wilson, Deathstroke the Terminator...he's the best Assassin. The most efficient."
Deathstroke made no reaction while Sensei snorted lightly. He had never hidden his displeasure for him. Deathstroke had been his most arrogant Student.
Ra's grabbed the Knight and held it up.
"The Detective, the most willful, the most resourceful."
His tone was laced with an undercurrent of pride.
Deathstroke tightened his fists.
Ra's hesitated on the Bishop piece, his hand hovering over it.
"Ben Turner...The Strongest."
This time his tone went deeper, more serious.
Ra's stood up, running the piece through his fingers as he walked forward, looking out into the sea.
"I respect him because more than all the others, he has earned that respect."
Sensei and Deathstroke looked at one another.
"Bronze Tiger will stay in line because he knows what I can give him. Her."
Ra's stated.
A brief silence reigned.
"Do not antagonize him."
Ra's told Deathstroke.
The latter understood the clear dismissal and turned to leave. His eyes briefly flashed towards a Raven haired woman standing off to the side.
Talia Al Ghul, the daughter of Ra's Al Ghul sneered.
(Elsewhere)
There wasn't a lot of traffic this way. First owing to the fact that it was the late evening and also that this was mostly a private residence sector. Home to some of the richest of Gotham's elites.
The slow drone of the vehicle quieted down as Deadshot, parked it by the side of the road near a junction that led to Wayne Manor.
"So what's the plan?"
Baran asked, stepping out of the car with the other two. Deadshot checked his gun first, cocking it before aiming it straight at Baran's head.
"I'll give you one warning. Don't try to follow us."
"Whoa! Whoa!"
Baran stepped back with fear in his eyes. The jangle of keys made him throw his hands out by reflex.
"Be ready."
Bronze Tiger informed him. Baran opened his eyes and found himself alone. He looked at his palms and saw the car keys.
Anger marred his features. They were basically calling him useless. His hand went to his pants pocket, bringing out with it a glowing brown vial. He was going to show them.
On a tree, a couple of dozens of meters away, Deadshot pressed the side of the cybernetic eye on his mask. The expert marksman sucked in a breath.
"Motion detectors, heat sensors and hidden security cameras covering the entire compound. Not to mention any other security measures I can't detect." He whistled.
"This is not going to be a walk in the park."
"Keep them busy while I try to locate what we came for."
Bronze Tiger's voice rumbled from next to him.
"And how are you going to do that?"
Deadshot asked, loading up his rifle.
He looked around and found himself alone.
(Elsewhere)
"...in the British royal army. So Alfred and his team take a detour, following the civilian's directions to try and sneak up on that particular terrorist cell."
Dick narrated.
"Ah."
Alfred sighed.
"Could we not talk about this at the dinner table, Master Dick?"
"What, and bore Raven with meaningless small talk?"
Dick asked, leaning closer to the table, his food barely touched despite the tantalizing smell of the soup wafting off his plate.
Raven's own plate was empty, the steak devoured cleanly. She, better than anyone knew what hunger was.
"So there they are, looking into this small building. Alfred gives the signal, this soldier walks up, opens the door...and over a hundred chicken come flying out! The soldier falls down and starts screaming wildly!"
Raven frowned, not really invested in the talk but wary of the stern glare Alfred threw her way when she started fiddling with her phone. It wasn't anything special, just a small gift from one of her mom's friends. That's where she'd gotten the picture she carried of her as well.
She found her mind drifting when Dick started snapping his fingers on her face.
"You couldn't have looked more bored if you tried."
"What?" Raven responded, realizing her mind had drifted away.
Before he could answer, the glass shattered and something fell through, bouncing on the floor of the chamber.
"Get down!"
Dick jumped off his seat to tackle Raven when an explosion went off.
"Azarath Metrion Zinthos!"
As the table was pushed back and up, it struck a dome of black energy, breaking in the middle with both parts getting flung away to either side.
Dust and the smell of burning wood permeated the room.
The dome rippled away as Raven appeared, standing in front of Alfred and an injured Dick.
"Master Dick!"
Alfred called out in urgency. The young boy hadn't escaped without harm. There were a few light burns across his left side.
Alfred breathed a sigh of relief when the young boy groaned, getting up.
"I'm..."
A shot rang out, going through the chain column of the Chandelier.
"Get back!"
He shouted once more, pushing both Raven and Alfred away from him while sliding back on the floor.
The huge chandelier smashed onto the ground right where they were. Glass shattered and rained out, one of them biting into Raven's cheek and causing it to bleed.
Without the light from the candles bouncing off the Chandelier, the room was washed in darkness. It was only for a single second before multiple electric lamps lit up on the walls, a function of the room so as to give a calm atmosphere.
Dick narrowed his eyes, he'd seen a shadow move through the darkness.
Raven looked around the room with her fists enclosed in a black sphere.
"Miss Roth are you okay?"
Alfred enquired from her, standing close and before them, protectively.
"What was that?"
Raven instead asked her own question.
"Grenades. I knew you were going to block it with one of your shields."
A voice said from the frame of the window. Deadshot jumped inside and patted his forehead, his rifle pointed at the sky.
"Hello Raven."
He greeted.
"You."
Said Raven, her posture tensing.
"What are you doing here?"
Deadshot chuckled, looking around and noticing that the boy had disappeared. His eyes narrowed. How had he slipped away?
"Oh you know the usual. Getting paid to off some interesting people."
A cold light flashed across Raven's eyes.
"I won't let you or anyone else harm them!"
She couldn't let it happen. They had been good to her despite hiding secrets. Alfred had been a godsend when taking care of Davian and she would not let them face danger.
"Alfred step back."
Raven instructed.
The Butler began to protest when Raven created a swirling dark portal under him that sent him to the kitchen. He would only get in the way.
Her eyes flashed red and Deadshot's eyes widened under his mask. He didn't really want to shoot her but his gun was pointed at her head when a burst of darkness slammed into him.
Deadshot's body slammed through the window they had used to come in and he careened to the ground while flailing his arms. The fall was not too bad. He simply rolled on the green covered yard once his back touched the ground. Then he came up in a crouch, raising his gun.
He pulled the trigger and a few bullets bounced off the shield Raven had created. A flat circular construct. The young girl cocked her head to the side.
"Really? You knew that wasn't going to work."
Deadshot shrugged, getting up from the ground.
"I shoot bullets, honey. That's my deal. Doesn't mean they always work on a target though."
"So what do you do when you're faced with someone like me?"
Raven asked, her body floating down towards the ground.
"Well I..."
Before he could answer, a hiss sounded out and a green figure came lumbering out of the dark. Deadshot's rifle was immediately aimed at that direction when, his face changed.
"Oh you have got to be fucking with me."
A huge snake man jumped over him, pulling back a clawed hand to try and smash it across Raven. The window of the third floor blasted apart into small shards of glass as something fast sped through it.
"Getsuga...Tensho!"
A purple arc of light flashed and the entire night lit up. The arc cut through the air screaming as it landed on the chest of the huge monster and sent it flying far away into the dark. The attack was strong enough to carve a groove on the immaculate yard, scarring it.
In between Raven and Deadshot, something landed.
Raven blinked, her fists losing power.
"Davian..."
She muttered, seeing the strong back of who she would call her friend. He was shirtless in true Davian fashion. His silver hair had grown longer during his sleep, falling to just below his shoulders. And his back was littered with small scars that only seemed to add more gravitas to his presence.
He had his long sword in his right hand, while the left held onto the sheath. Was it just her or did he seem...bigger?
She'd never really noticed it before but...he wasn't bad looking at all.
"Hey Goth girl."
A smooth voice called out. The source, Davian smirked and looked over his shoulder.
"Miss me much?"
Raven found herself smiling.
"Don't flatter yourself Mabuz, I had peace when you were asleep."
Deadshot narrowed his eyes. Things had just gotten complicated. He had been initially surprised to find Raven here but even 'he' was here? The mission Intel had ever said anything about this. Deadshot could remember the Cluster fuck that was the mission to bring in Davian. That had not been a fun day.
To make matters worse they were flirting before him.
He aimed at the chest of the new arrival and pulled the trigger. The gun crackled as a spray of bullets escaped the weapon only to slam into a green shield around Davian's body.
"That isn't going to work Deadshot."
The younger man coldly said, the point of his sword aimed at Deadshot.
In response, Deadshot lowered the rifle, discarding it to the side as he checked on his wrist guns.
"This is so not what I signed up for."
The Assassin muttered, getting ready to fight, he only hoped that his 'partner' was having better luck.
(Davian's P.O.V)
(Inner World)
(Some Time Back)
Sweat matted my eyebrows as the spirit released a potent aura of Reiatsu. I sank to my knees, face looking up in fear at the intimidating cloak of power covering his form.
Breathing became hard. The resolve I had held on till then washed out of me, leaving me a husk of hopelessness. It felt like the end of the world. My first time being exposed to spirit pressure and I completely understood why it could kill. This felt as if the air was squeezing into me from all sides.
'Get it together...'
The whisper came from the deep recess of my mind. It reminded me of who I was. Of what I had gone through. I clenched my jaw and butt cheeks.
The sheath in my hands glowed green and more spirit power was released, saturating the space between us and enabling me to at least block the worst of the aura.
I inhaled large amounts of air while stumbling to my feet. Luckily I had Gordon behind me, so he was saved from the blunt of the Spiritual pressure.
As if unaware of me, the spirit began ranting, palms pressed on his head from the sides.
"It's not fair...I should have it all! It's mine! I was first here... No! You lie! Kill you! I need to end it!"
The mutterings continued as he faced away from me. Unhinged and Nervous. The phantom on his shoulder held a hand above his head.
My Parallel self, like a sentinel floated around the spirit. A worried look was on his face. He looked at me and silently asked me to do it.
I had no idea where to start from. Konso was basically cleansing a soul by using a Zanpakuto.
So how do you perform a Konso without a Zanpakuto?
I knew that a Soul Reaper pressed the pommel of the weapon on the forehead of a plus (dead soul) to send them to the other side, but that was about it.
'He is in pain."
A voice, different from the Spirit spoke out.
Mine. Only younger. Softer. My Parallel self's lips had not moved but I knew that it was he who had spoken.
And if it were up to me, that pain would have been tenfold. I held no love for the spirit after everything that had gone down.
The way my Parallel stared at me felt...not exactly judgmental but something along those lines. It felt as if he was accusing me of not seeing the bigger picture.
My chest tightened, whether from the pain of my injuries or the heaviness of his gaze, it mattered not. I ran a hand across my injuries. The skin under the wounds felt tender but something was actively healing me.
"I've never had anyone."
He added, seemingly patting the Spirit's head to appease it. It was distracted.
'I only needed to get close. Things would sort themselves out afterwards.'
I took a step forward and the Spirit pressure coming off the spirit doubled.
The world warped around me. My soul shivered as the sky begun to rain down with millions of worms. I deployed a shield but none of that seemed to work.
My body was splattered with dead bugs and green blood. I felt like retching, the stench was horrible but my gaze never left his back. I only need to get...close.
I took another step and his body changed.
The back deformed, becoming too large for his chest. The White outfit he wore begun to tear apart, revealing more worms that spilled out and fell to the ground, squirming and digging into the cemetery floor.
What the...the hailstorm of bugs ended but the nightmare seemed to have only just begun.
"Aarrrghh..."
Moaning sounds begun to ring out from the graves dotting the Cemetery. A grey, skinny arm broke through the soil.
"Oh Fuck... don't tell me..."
Before I could say anything else, the hand was joined by more.
I jumped back, standing before Gordon. I was seriously getting tired of all this crap. My face was set in a permanent frown. I had no idea how much time had passed but I would be pissed if I'd wasted more than a few days on this particular issue.
Dead bodies begun to rise around me, each with purple eyes, and dozens of worms digging through their slouching flesh as they stumbled my way.
"What the fuck is this, night of the living dead?"
I leaned forward and created a small green platform under my feet that enabled me to burst in quickly. The first Zombie, a man who was...
Wait. I stopped, my feet braking hard on the ground.
That face...it was disfigured with worms moving under the grey rotting skin but I recognized it.
"Andre?"
I asked out loud, sweeping my gaze out to the rest of them.
My heart faltered, hand shaking as my old gang appeared before me. But I had killed them! I remember each and every single shot I'd taken.
That plaid shirt could only be Papa Fred, Serena looked as if she'd seen better days and Marc moaned with a green sludge falling down his lips.
My hair hid my eyes away. If that's how he wanted to play this, then...
"Kill Him!"
The Spirit had fully turned to me and along with the hate and negative feelings, I saw a spark of fear underneath it all.
He had resurrected my old Gang. No pressure, I just needed to kill them again. A wide grin appeared on my face.
Leaning forward again, I jumped at Andre who was closest to me. Up close and the stench was horrible. I paid it no mind as I slashed out with my palm. His head flew up to the sky, the skin on his neck offering no resistance.
Papa Fred was next. I won't lie, I enjoyed this part. A lot. My enhanced kick tore through his huge belly, exploding him from the back, his organs a putrid mess of intestines and torn flesh that flew towards the spirit only to be vaporized by the grid of strings around him.
Serena clawed on the shield I timely deployed. I enlarged it, throwing her through the air and causing her to slam onto a Gravestone. Her head splattered easily on it's hard surface. Marc was last. The little shit. I reiterate, I hate Marc.
I bitch slapped Marc's head off and exhaled in relief. That had felt good. I looked at the dead bodies once more. Whether they were an illusion or not, I had killed them again and it felt... therapeutic.
"That all you got?"
I asked the spirit. Shit, I wouldn't have minded bitch slapping Marc around a couple more times.
A second later, I realized my mistake. In response to my taunt, the Spirit powered up.
His limbs grew uneven, the hands lengthening to long claws covered with a white fur that reminded me of the monster, Slenderman. Pair that up with the worm creatures falling off his body and he was like an incomplete Chimera creature. Within seconds, he was unrecognizable. One lone purple eye stared down at me, the other a mass of black worms.
He was now more than 8 feet tall.
Like a broken record, Gordon kept on muttering,
"Kill You."
The Reiryoku coming off him became darker. The deep and evil aura I had come to associate with my 'Hollow' abilities consuming the last bit of Reiryoku and turning it completely grey. Getting close became impossible.
The soil and grass around him floated to the sky as his whole aura undulated. It made me wonder if I could do the same. I hadn't had Reiryoku for long but I knew of its possibilities. Take for instance Kido. I could have blasted this bastard a long time ago with a Hado 96.
"I've only ever had myself."
Parallel Davian's spirit said, his voice cutting through the haze of confusion and wariness as I faced the Behemoth.
'Join the club.' I thought, pulling everything I had in me. The Konso...how do you purify a spirit? Do you just imagine it happening or is there a particular practice to it? Would it work without a Zanpakuto?
I groaned, rubbing a spot on my chest as I warily watched the Spirit, ready to deploy a shield the minute the grid appeared. Yet despite its rants of Killing me, it only observed. As if waiting for something.
The uncomfortable feeling in my chest intensified, starting as a low heat.
It was brimming, quickly becoming a hot furnace that I could feel deep in my chest and on my wrists. A groan escaped my lips.
A power I couldn't see or sense through Reikaku burst from my chest to encompass every single vein in my body. It was pure.
"I couldn't trust anyone. Or rather, I hated everyone. Including myself."
The soft voice of my Parallel self-came again, full of sadness and a quiet pride.
"Don't get lost in the hate and self-doubt. I did the same and I don't want that Path for you."
He went on to say.
I realized why the Spirit was yet to attack, he was keeping it bay. Somehow. Its lone eye was focused on me yes, but it wasn't really seeing me. But that wouldn't last for long. I stopped fighting the heat.
Taking a deep breath, I lifted the Sheath. 'Don't get lost in hate huh?...'
Hard not to do that when the whole world is out to get you.
The faces of my Old Gang appeared in my mind. It was so easy to hate them. Even if they were dead. But carrying that hate would do me more harm than good.
I let it go. Probably the hardest thing I had ever done.
The heat stopped consuming me as I allowed it free rein to wherever it wanted to go, free of my influence. It showed me a connection to everything around. The graveyard, Gordon's eroding Spirit, My own Reiryoku, the Spirit's and his.
"I wanted to destroy the world."
The voice came again, this time in a wistful tone.
"Trust me, I can relate."
Another step and my head swam but the effects of the Reiatsu were not as bad as before.
"It was my fate. My purpose. My ultimate payback to everyone who trampled on me. On my dreams. Then I realized I was too far gone. So when the time came, I chose to trust myself. You. "
With every word, I felt my flesh knit back together. The heat had slowly receded, the pain was abating and I was healing at a faster speed. Power filled my body.
"Fight."
This time it was a command. One that went deep into my soul. It implored. I understood what I needed to do.
The Sheath in my hands pulled my gaze into it. Into the language of its cursive lines. A sheath without a weapon. A sheath missing it's Zanpakuto. Yet, now I knew. The Zanpakuto was not missing. I just needed to call for it. I just needed to release the power from within.
The sheath spoke of a power that was eager to be used. A power that was mine and mine alone. I tightened my hand on it.
Spiritual energy that was unlike anything I had ever felt before, began to roil inside me. I wasn't a hollow or a soul reaper or a bount or a Quincy. I was...Davian Mabuz, and my path was whatever I wanted it to be.
"Huh!?"
The ranting Spirit stiffened.
"Impossible!"
Gordon shouted, the grid appearing around the three of us. The strings combined, forming into one giant purple fist that fell towards me with little fanfare.
The speed of the construct was almost too fast. Covering my whole vision with it.
I held my ground, there was no reason to be afraid anymore. I wasn't wrong to be here. I was exactly where I needed to be. Nick was dead but his memory would live on. I had taken revenge on who had been responsible. Twice even.
I guess...I could let it all go now. The hate, the Self-doubt...I finally handled that trauma.
My entire life was taken from me but I had been compensated. I had power now but more than that, I had life. A second chance. And I would cherish the gift given to me. Undeserving or not, this Davian saw something in me. Let's prove him right.
That was the last barrier I needed to close.
"Call out my Name..."
With my sheath raised to the sky, the words came naturally.
"Come forth from the weave of eternity, Chesha Neko: Release."
The whole realm begun to shake with power.