"Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift." - Mary Oliver

Wayne Estate, Gotham City, New Jersey, United States of America

11:22 AM EST, June 30, 1990

The rain poured as two caskets were carried through the grounds. A large crowd followed them. Many had umbrellas to cover them. But not one man. He let the rain drop on him. Not feeling the cold. He still couldn't believe it. His parents were dead. They had shown so much love for him. He loves them greatly. When the caskets were place next to the tombstones, all he could do was stare. Moments later, his old childhood friend. The son sighed before stepping forward. Cardinal Blake nodded his head in silence. The twenty-one-year-old Bruce Wayne looked at the crowd. These were his friends, family, and those who had respected the Wayne family.

"When I was eight, my parents took me to the theater. I remember the excitement I had after watching Luke Skywalker. Due to my excitement, my mother had us walk a few blocks. Crossing into Crime Alley. A mugger pointed a gun at us. I was terrified. I hid behind my father while he talked to the mugger. He kept talking until a police officer arrived. Arrested the man. My father kneeled down to me and told me that this is what Gotham is, but it can be more. We can make it more. I took those words to heart. Now that he is gone, I will make a better Gotham. Not for me, but for the people of Gotham. For my parent's memory." Bruce said, hoping he was honoring his parent's memory.

He lay a rose on the two caskets. Stepping away, the crowd began to put roses on them. He has lost everything. Looking at the Manor, he thought of the cries of joy. Now empty. He walked up the hill. Wishing the rain could make him feel something other than the sadness. When he reached the manor, he entered through the side entrance to the study. As he walked to his father's desk, he picked up a picture of Bruce's High School graduation. Tears began to roll down his cheeks.

"Miss them?" a voice asked behind. Bruce turned to see his Uncle, Jacob Kane.

"Yeah." Bruce answered, putting the picture down.

"Bruce, if you ever need anything, just call me."

"Thanks Uncle Jacob."

Bruce walked into the halls, thinking of the last time he talked to Jacob. He was eleven. His father had an argument with Jacob. He didn't know what it was about, but it was clear that his father despised the man. He wonders if Jacob regrets that last argument. For all he knows, that could have been the last time those two talked. He didn't realize what he was doing until he entered his old room. Looking inside, brought so many memories. His dressers were covered with little collectables and knick-knacks. His walls covered in movie posters, car pictures, and autograph baseball cards. Most of which were gifts.

He walked over to the bed and sat down. He hummed a tune, his mother sang to him as a child. The stories they told him, as a child, brought a sadden smile. A knock on the door startled him. Looking up, he saw a familiar man standing in the doorway. The glimpse of a gold badge on his belt shined against the dark gray suit.

"I hope I'm not intruding." the man said.

"No." Bruce replied. The man stepped further inside. He slid his jacket to show the badge fully.

"Detective Allen. GCPD. We've met before, but I honestly didn't think you'll remember me." the Detective said and Bruce's eyes widen.

"You were the cop at Crime Alley."

"Been awhile. God, how you have grown." Allen said as Bruce stood up. The two shook hands. The young man was grateful that he could meet the officer again. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, detective." the heir said. The detective sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Mister Wayne, do you know what happened to your parents?"

"Just that they were murdered in their bedroom." Bruce said, sitting back down.

He still couldn't believe anyone would want them dead. They were good people. Always trying to help Gotham. There was no one in his mind who would do this. He didn't want to look at the crime scene pictures. Wanting the last imagine of them being a happy one. Allen sat next to Bruce, holding a tape recorder out.

"I know this is hard, but I got a few questions." the Detective said and Bruce nodded. "Do you know anyone with a grudge against your father? A business associate? An employee? Anything?"

"No. There is no one."

"Mister Wayne, I'm going to show you some photos. Tell me if you recognize anyone."

Allen pulled a file from his suit, handing them to Bruce. Looking over them, he didn't know any of them. A sickening feeling crept inside. Why would he need to recognize them? He handed them back to the detective, shaking his head. Putting the photos back in his jacket, the Detective stood up.

"Sorry to be a bother, Mister Wayne."

"Don't be." Bruce said. Allen walked out, leaving questions in the young man's mind.

Wayne Tower, Gotham City, New Jersey, United States of America

9:03 AM EST, July 2, 1990

Alfred opened the door, letting Bruce out. The young man looked at his family's legacy. Memories of his father bringing him here. For this moment. When he took over the company. He sighed, wishing he was here under different circumstances. Walking inside, the employees watched him. Security let him through without a hassle. He smiled, trying to hide the fear and sadness. At the elevator, a security officer pressed a button, opening it.

"Thank you." Bruce said, entering inside. He pressed number 75 as the doors closed.

As it went up, he straightened his suit. All he'll have to do is meet with the board. Go over business. Then get an understanding of the company. He hopes that he can make his father proud. That is his greatest wish. When the elevator stopped, the door opened to reveal the CEO office. It was a decent size. He walked over to the desk where his father use to work. Filled with pictures of his family.

Picking a picture up of Bruce going to college, he had to wipe away tears. So much was taken from him. For no reason. He put it down when Miss Celia Kazantkakis opened the Conference Room doors. He sat the picture down. Taking a deep breath. He walked over to her. She was a close family friend, despite the differences between her and his father.

"You ready?" she asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be." he confessed. They both entered the room. The entire board was quiet as Bruce sat down. Celia started the meeting knowing next time, he'll have to start.

"Wayne Technologies had a tragic loss. But we are still here. Let continue making Gotham and the world a better place. Vincent, you have the quarterly report." she said.

Vincent Lee nodded as he shuffled through his papers. He talked about our finances, then the meeting went along. It was all a bore to Bruce. When it came to the budgeting, that's where he took note. There was a notable absence of fifty million. He raised his arm to get everyone's attention.

"Edward. There are some missing funds in here?" Bruce said. Edward Brown flipped through his papers, doing calculations. It took him a few minutes, but when he was done, he looked at the CEO.

"You are correct, Mister Wayne. Someone must have put the numbers in wrong." Edward said.

"Well then. I say we adjourn today's meeting until we get the correct numbers." Bruce suggested.

"I'll second that." Dylan Powers added.

"Well then, this meeting is adjourned." Celia said.

As the Board gathered their things, Bruce walked into his office. Surprised to see an older man waiting next to the desk. Dress in a light gray suit, holding a briefcase. He wasn't expecting anyone today. Putting up a charismatic smile. He walked forward, extending his arm out.

"I don't believe we've met. Bruce Wayne."

"Lucius Fox. Head of Wayne Technologies Research and Development."

"I was planning on touring your department today. What brought you to my office?" Bruce asked. Lucius put the briefcase on the desk.

"A day before your father died, he gave me this to decrypt." he said, shuffling through papers, revealing a floppy disk. Handing it to the CEO, hands shaking. "It has the Kane Industries Gotham Yard blueprints. I don't know why, but something is up."

Kane? Bruce's mind blew up into a dozen questions. Why would his father be looking into his uncle? There wasn't any reason for it. The DOD is constantly eyeing the company. The IRS is always hounding Jacob Kane. And his father hasn't seen Jacob since Bruce was eleven. He had to agree with Lucius. Something wasn't adding up. But if there was something, why not get reports. Instead, he has blueprints.

"I've taken a position at our British subsidiary. My family will be safe there. Good luck, Mister Wayne," Lucius said before walking away.

"Wait." Bruce said moments before the man reached the door. "Did my father mention anything else to you?"

"Just that this was important." Lucius said, before leaving the office.

Bruce walked over to his chair, inserting the disk into the computer. When it loaded, he examined the blueprints. Lucius was right. This was for the Yard. But something seemed different. As a kid, his mother took his to see his Uncle. Seeing these schematics, it was clear that the facility was much larger than he imagined. But some of it wasn't needed. Just extra space. For what is the mystery. Then there were the defenses. Some of it illegal to operate in civilian zones.

At that, he knew his Uncle was into something deep. And his father crawled into it. Leaving a few theories. None of which Bruce wanted to believe. It was his Uncle, after all. His mother's brother. But then there was Detective Allen. Trying to find something in his parent's murder. As he ponder, his phone rang.

"Wayne here." Bruce answered.

"Hey Bruce." Jacob said. The young man held his breath. What once a comfortable voice, was now a voice of dread.

"Do you need something?"

"Just wanting to know how you were doing."

"Good. Why?" Bruce asked, wondering if his Uncle knew something.

"I want to talk to you. Can you meet me at the Orchard Hotel at say one?" A deep feeling of unease came over Bruce. The Orchard was one of the few place in Gotham that his father despised. This only grew the suspicion.

"Sure."

Orchard Hotel, Gotham City, New Jersey, United States of America

12:32 PM EST, July 2, 1990

The ride was quiet. But Bruce could tell that Alfred didn't like the idea of the Orchard Hotel. Clearly his father's feelings were felt in the butler. But he needed to do this. He needs answers. When the car stopped infront of the hotel, he tried opening the door, only to find it locked. Alfred leaned over to his side, facing the young man. "Master Bruce, I highly suggest you don't go in there."

"Why Al?" Bruca asked, wanting answers.

"Your father always disapproved of this place. Why? I don't know. Just that it was a bad place to go."

"I'm a big boy Al. I'll be careful." Bruce promised. Alfred reluctantly unlocked the door.

The young man admired the marble walls as he walked in. The floors was decorated tiles. Greek style pillars. With modern artwork on the walls. The fine of things for wealthy men and women. He could tell why his father disliked this place. But there was more under all the money. He could just tell. At the front desk, he turned on the Bruce Wayne charm.

"Hello, I'm looking for Jacob Kane." he said with a charming smile. Leaning on the expensive desk. The woman manning the desk, smile with a blush. She typed into the computer.

"Mister Wayne?"

"Of course." he said and she giggled.

"Mister Kane is in room 62." she said handing him a key. It was decked out in eccentric designs.

"Thank you." he said before leaving for the elevator.

62. Sixth floor. The Penthouse Suites. Clearly his uncle spared no expense. Whatever is going on, must be important. Part of him began to worry. It was clear that something was going on behind the truths. When he reached the floor, Bruce got out and looked around. This floor only had four room. A pair of guards standing at each one. He walked to the right corner, where the guards patted him down before letting him in.

The room was large. Filled with furnite costing tens of thousands, art from around the world, and other worthless crap. Uncle Jacob was sitting at the mini bar. A bartender was mixing a cocktail. Bruce walked over, taking a seat next to his Uncle. The bartender poured two glasses of the cocktail. Both men took a drink.

"I want to know about what you're feeling?" Jacob asked.

"Fine."

"The truth. Your parents were murdered. I want to know what you're feeling." Jacob said. Bruce took a breath and another drink.

"Pissed off. Feel like a failure. A fraud." Bruce confessed.

"There's no reason for that." Jacob said and Bruce turned the stool.

"And why not? From what I've been told, there's no suspects for my parent's murder. This city is only going to the shitter. And I'm helpless." he said and the Uncle chuckled.

"Sounds like you've been listening to that Butler too much." Jacob said, taking a drink afterwards. He put his hand on the young man's shoulder. "Bruce, what if I told you, I know people who can help. Who can take on the the murderers. Restore Gotham to her glory. Make this hellish city beautiful. Where families can go outside and feel safe."

"Who?"

Jacob took a final drink of the cocktail before getting up. Leading Bruce to the fireplace, he pulled a owl knick-knack back. The fireplace split open, sliding to the side. The young man backed away, surprised to see a elevator with a metal owl face on the wall. Jacob walked inside, waiting for the nephew to return back to reality. Bruce walked in as the door closed. As they went down, his Uncle handed the young man a white owl mask. As he put the mask on, Jacob put on a owl mask with gold trims around the edges.

When the doors opened, a dark stone tunnel. The only light coming from owl shaped torches. There was clearly a theme going on. Jacob took the lead as both men walked through the tunnel. This wasn't at all what Bruce was expecting. Something bad, yes. This, no. He passed dozens of doors, until they reach a large old door. His Uncle grabbed the golden owl handles and pulled it open. They walked down a set of stairs leading to a large room filled with fitness and fighting equipment. Weapons lined the walls. This was so strange to him.

"Welcome to the Court of Owls." Jacob said as Bruce walked ahead. This was a strange place. Old with new equipment. He turned to his Uncle.

"I thought the Court was a myth."

"That is what we want Gotham to think, but we are real and our talons are sharp."

Just as he finished, a noise started Bruce. He turned to see a leather masked man with gold pieces around him. The man was wearing googles, visualizing a owl. Two swords on his back. Daggers across the bandolier. This man was a killer. A very dangerous one at that. He bowed at Bruce's Uncle.

"What task do you have for me Voice?" the man asked. Bruce turned to his Jacob, knowing that the question was directed at him.

"This is a new recruit. I want you to train him. Be able to defend himself for the coming days."

"Wait, training? What training?" Bruce asked confused. He wasn't aware of what he was signing for. Jacob put his hand on the young man's shoulder.

"Gotham is dangerous. The Court is about to go to war on the filth, plaguing the city. I want you to be able to defend yourself." Bruce looked at his Uncle, knowing he has more questions, yet it was clear that this world was filled with darkness. Little options left, he had to agree. Wait for opportunities. Learn the truth.