The central wing of Ryker's Asylum stood like the gates of Hell, with the Polar Blade acting as their diligent guardian. The lone samurai stood at the main entrance with her sword drawn and on guard. With most of the inmates either returned to their cells or incapacitated by Mr. Scary's fear toxin, the only remaining threat topside was the mad fear-monger himself.

Crane charged at Lorna and swung his scythe with cold, calculated precision. Fighting the Bat for almost seventeen years made him a very experienced combatant with his unique weapon of choice. "I'm not sure what you have done in your life, but we all must reap what we sew. Allow me the kindness of doing it for you," Scary taunted before he swung his blade down on top of Lorna, only for her to catch it with the flat of her blade.

Scary would always make sure to get his blade as close to Lorna's face as he could, but he arced his swings in just the right way to get her to block in time. Scary intended to toy with her in the fight, just to see her sweat.

Lorna would try to force the weapon away from him with her magnesis, but the scythe's blade turned out to be made of obsidian. The glassy stone was famous for its sharpness and durability. And unfortunately for the daughter of the Fatal Compass, it was not magnetic. She had to rely on her swordsmanship alone, which was sufficing just fine. But like the creeping march of death, the doctor was getting closer.

His weapon, cloak and mask made him look like the Grim Reaper, yet he carried himself with none of the attributes associated with the angel of death. Rather than bloodthirsty ferocity, or even the alternative depictions of the reaper's cold indifference were absent behind the eyes of his mask. The master of fear's emotions were that of gleeful adrenaline combined with his usual clinical curiosity.

"I've never seen you in Goth's Kitchen before. I would remember a sword as fine as that one. And he would never bring one of the LMI here. He's far too proud of his city to let one of them help. No, you're another one of the Blind Bat's little friends he keeps in his back pocket," Crane deduced as he was able to land one scratch on the rebreather in Lorna's mouth. The cannister started spewing out pressurized air, rendering it useless for protecting her from the gas.

Lorna spat out the rebreather and planted her feet. She knew she didn't have much time until the gas overtook her, so she spent the sanity she had left trying to ground herself in reality, reiterating her own personal truths. "I'm not a hero like them, nor do I want to. This is just a job for me, why do you care?" she asked coldly. Living the life of superheroics repulsed her. Lorna wanted to distance herself from the idea as much as possible.

"He keeps people like the Tiger, the Dragon, and the putz with the green bow separate from his friends on the League because his greatest fear is realizing he's no longer a man of the people. The Blind Bat continues to walk amongst plebians to trick himself into believing he's still one of them," Crane monologued as he pulled his gas gun from his holster and started spraying around the fear gas like a can of Febreze in a teenager's bedroom.

"There's also the desire for control," Crane continued as he continued to slash and swing away at Lorna's defense. "His task force of sidekicks and mercenaries are all to keep Goth's Kitchen under his control. He keeps it in a constant state of stagnation because he fears that any growth or change will make the city outgrow him. And as the League saves the world from greater and greater threats, the Bat must wonder how useful he really is to that team." Crane commented on what he perceived to be the Blind Bat's greatest flaws. His intended result of telling Lorna this was unclear, perhaps he just wanted to showcase his own intelligence by rambling on about his foe's psychological profile. "Too godly for the men, but too mortal for the gods. What a fascinating dichotomy!"

"What's your point, ghoul?" Lorna asked as she started to feel a little off. Colors were starting to darken around her. The gas was starting to affect her.

Crane charged into her with his shoulder and knocked her to the ground. From his gun, he unleashed a mighty blast of his toxin into the senses of the Polar Blade. "My question to you is: What is all of this for? The Blind Bat has turned this city into his domain of order. He forced those like me into this "Asylum", this prison, to reform us to his standard. He refuses to kill because he thrives off being able to control us. Bane was a tyrant in his own right, but at least he fostered growth and progress. The Bat deludes himself with the guise of being a superhero. His crusade for order has consumed him."

Mr. Scary described with great disdain for the Bat. But the way he described him was not too dissimilar to the Fatal Compass. And those words were what guided her into her artificial nightmare. As her vision blurred into hallucination, the doctor faded into the shadows of her vision, fleeing the Asylum.

Lorna was then thrust into her own mind. Everything she saw was blanketed in a sickly, green haze. Her surroundings felt uncanny, like spectating your own life in third person. Lorna's first vision was that of right outside Ryker's Asylum, shaking the hand of the Blind Bat. He had appreciated a job well done, and he extended her an invitation to do more work like this for him. Her mind, still in a haze from the toxin, led the version of her she saw accept his offer.

Another life flashed through her eyes as she continued to fight alongside other heroes like him. Lorna would fight various villains under the same mantle of her mother, スチールスコーピオン. Her skills made her useful to the LMI. She blended in just fine, even reuniting with her half-sister, Jessica. Perhaps what she had always detested to become wasn't so bad.

Through the collage of premonitions, she looked upon a reflection her appearance, not seeing her simple tunic and cloak. Instead, the Lorna she watched was wearing a vibrant, green, and yellow costume, adorned with golden armor and extravagant detailing. Her white, porcelain mask replaced by green cloth to match. It was an outfit befitting that of a superhero.

As her hallucinations continued, she could see herself fighting a 15-foot tall, reptilian, creature through the streets of Tokyo. She was using her powers to hurl steel beams at the monster while it rampaged down the road. Destruction reigned through the city as she saw herself callously hurl cars and even chunks of buildings at it. The monster cast it all aside as if they were insects, posing but a mere nuisance.

The facsimile of her home country was in uproar as panicked civilians ran past her, away from the carnage she was fighting. Lorna's mirage paid no mind to any of it though. There were more important things at hand. But everything she was doing to fight this beast was also contributing to the damage. Homes and businesses were torn apart by her to use as more ammunition to slam against the goliath. Livelihoods of innocent civilians and families were ruined by her just to stop one monster. But in her current state, all she could feel was the rush of adrenaline that came from the fight itself. She'd justify to herself later that this was all necessary.

Ignoring the devastation, she cast her sword into the air, and like a simple dart, she plunged the sword straight into the eye of the creature, right into its brain. It collapsed to the ground with a thunderous thud. She could have done that at any time, but was so caught up in the fight itself to make the calls that would actually help people.

The false Lorna rose triumphant from the corpse of the beast she had just slain. She looked around to see a demolished urban hellscape. Her normal mind was horrified of what she did. But she was a superhero. "You are welcome, civilians! For I, the スチールスコーピオン, have saved you all!" Lorna basked in silent cheers and applause. But there were none. Anyone she claimed to have saved, there was maybe another who was severely wounded or had perished during the battle. This was just another Tuesday for her. She was a paragon of virtue, far above normal people. Their concerns didn't matter to her. She was one of their gods. She didn't care.

The Lorna Toru who watched upon this imitation of herself was horrified. This was how she perceived superheroes in this world to be. Callous barbarians who would sacrifice human life for a good fight. Normal people were ants to their flashy-colored boots.

Her perspective warped again to what she believed to be the LMI Watchtower. This nightmare had her imagine herself as a part of the League of Marvelous Individuals. Her normal mind would never join them. But right now, she was a superhero, and she relished sitting amongst them. She sat at the roundtable as did the rest of the League. The mirages of the heroes clamored on about some grand scale of nonsense.

There was some geocide happening in a foreign country, Wonder Crystal and Black Orca debated on whether they should get involved with it. Dictators who murdered hundreds of thousands reigned despite the fact the ones who sat above in their platinum tower could get down there at any time to stop it. Politics were being discussed on whether to save innocent lives.

After that, they had the gall to talk about merchandising deals. Cyberman would joke about the Sergeant's marketability and how he should save some inner-city kids or something to garner fame. Stark talked about how many resources they had, almost bragging about it. People with that kind of money, magical powers like Thunderman, Captain Gamma, and her own sister all could do so much to change the world for the better, but they do nothing.

All the while, they pat themselves on the back and gloated about past victories and how instead of thousands dying, hundreds did. At a certain point, all the voices blended together. It didn't matter who was saying what. She wanted to say something in protest of all she was witnessing, but the visage of herself just stood by and let it all happen. Complacency was just part of the job. They were profiteers and guardians of the status quo. But the real Lorna noticed something different when she looked at the head of the table. Across from where she sat was her father, the Fatal Compass.

The false Fate was also a part of the conversation, although his helmet remained on. Lorna took seeing her father like a punch to the gut. She missed him a lot. The old man's eyes twinkled as he looked upon two of his daughters sitting at the table. He seemed full of pride. His voice rang like a bell, but it did not sound as clear. He seemed to be aware of this, so he removed his bell-shaped helmet to sound clearer, but even then, any words he was saying carried no meaning.

As a matter of fact, none of what any of them were saying sounded coherent at all. Everything came out as sullen mumbles and grunts. Lorna became very confused, nothing felt right anymore. She was thrust into the perspective of her false image. "What's going on, here? What's everyone talking about?" she tried to ask, only to realize her voice came out just as muffled as everyone else.

Then, one by one, the faces of each of the members of the League started to warp and twist. The chiseled features of Thunderman faded into a blank slate. Lorna let out a panicked yelp as she watched Cyberman's human side do the same. Sergeant Speed, Wonder Crystal, even her half-sister, the Emerald Witch melted away as a faceless mannequin wearing their costumes were all that remained. The costumes were the only thing that mattered. Anything that once made them people had dissolved into nothing. They too were but mere weapons, consumed by a never-ending crusade. Just like…her father.

Lorna looked over to see that the Fatal Compass had suffered the same fate long before the rest of the team. His helmet was removed, and she could see that there wasn't even a faceless man left behind the costume. There was nothing left of him. Her father had lost himself a long time ago, and she had to go through the grief of not being able to say goodbye yet again. She scrambled out of her seat to take the Helm of Nabu, looking into the reflective metal faceplate. The スチールスコーピオン, the Steel Scorpion, hoped to see her own face in the sheen, to hold onto some level of humanity, but in horror, she only found another faceless shell, wearing a colorful costume.

Her rational mind was petrified of what she had the potential to become, the potential to lose her identity, her humanity. The potential for apathy towards the innocent people she walked among. Working alongside the Blind Bat any longer would send her down this path. She would devolve into just another cog in the machine of superheroics. A right mind would try to fight against this bitter end, but this was her nightmare, she was a superhero, and she didn't care.


Upstairs, Pupil had rushed through the mazelike halls of the medical wing to find the Caged Tiger. With the mid-tier threats of Typhoid Ivy and Claymeleon handled, he needed to get all hands on-deck to fight off the most volatile villains the Asylum had to offer. Tim heard the explosion below, and he knew who caused it. He always pitied Dr. Quinzel, but she was very dangerous, and needed to be stopped.

While he was running through the halls, he thought back on the time he spent working with Luke and Richard. As the Blind Bat's sidekick, he was always eager to prove himself amongst the Bat's colleagues. The Blind Bat made up a team Matt called the Knights of Goth's Kitchen. It had himself, Caged Tiger, the first Dragon Fist, Karen Gordon as the Guardian Angel, Foggy Grayson as the clumsily named Nightfog, and the Pupil before him, Jason Castle.

He was a kid when he saw them in action. They were all magnificent in their primes. Crime was kept in check by the defenders of the streets. For a time, it seemed like the Bat was having fun with what he did. Tim had dreams of fighting crime alongside the Blind Bat, of being a Pupil himself. But that dream had a price.

All occurring within the same year, Goth's Kitchen took a very dark turn. Richard Rand Sr. had to return to Tibet to deal with unrelated matters, but returning home eventually led to his death. Joker just got lucky in getting rid of him. Next, he manipulated a crime boss in Harlem called Snake Eyes to get Luke Bronze sent to prison. Richard Rand Sr. had to return to Tibet to deal with unrelated matters, but returning home eventually led to his death. Joker just got lucky in getting rid of him. Then, the Purple Joker had isolated Karen, and the Guardian Angel had her wings clipped by a handy bullet through the spine. Worst of all, Joker and a corrupt district attorney named Harvey Russo, kidnapped the second Pupil, and murdered him.

These events are what led the Blind Bat to take a very dark turn in his life. And through it all, Bane capitalized on the weakness of the Kitchen's defenders to make things even worse in the city. He became extremely brutal in his crusade against crime, coming dangerously close to crossing the line, but even that couldn't help the state of Goth's Kitchen.

If things could not get any worse, when he was thirteen, Tim Summers would remain the only survivor of his family after a horrific plane crash. He not only lost his parents, but also a younger brother. And the trauma he underwent during the tragedy was what awakened his metamutant gene, turning his eyes into endless pools of concussive force. Although, he couldn't control that power. So, whenever he opened his eyes, destruction would be unleashed. He was robbed of his sight as well.

When the orphan boy was brought back to the city, Matthew Wayne saw a young boy with great potential who had undergone a travesty he could understand. Wayne would adopt Tim Summers, and the Blind Bat would train him to be the next Pupil, fighting blind just as his mentor. Eventually, he would be gifted a visor that contained the force of his blasts with ruby quartz crystal, engineered by Victor Stark. With all that, he became unstoppable as a force for good alongside the man he idolized. Every awful thing that happened led him to where he was.

When Tim thought back on the past, everything seemed so vivid. Even the things he hadn't directly seen seemed like he was there. Every terrible thing that happened to those he stood amongst today brought him here. He wanted this; to be a sidekick. If he was to be Pupil, Jason Castle had to die. If the Blind Bat were to need a new Pupil, Goth's Kitchen would have to fall to disarray. And if he were to gain his powers, his whole family had to die.

Pupil looked around to see the walls closing in around him. The effects of Mr. Scary's fear toxin were finally starting to get to him. His sacrifice to help Lorna left him vulnerable. Pressure was his greatest fear, whether it be mental or physical. He perceived the world around him as if it was going to squish him down to nothing. Tim collapsed to his knees as the rest of Mr. Scary's nightmarish hallucinations overtook him.

The weight of the world rested on his shoulders, he felt he made the world so much worse just to get what he wanted. Tim felt he owed everyone and everything all that he had, because he didn't see himself as worthy of what he was given. The walls of the Asylum caved in, the faces of those who died to bring him here molded from the drywall to berate him for his failures as a hero. He saw Rand Sr., Jason Castle, the other passengers on the plane, his mother and father, and then his brother Alex. Their faces closed in, Pupil felt like the walls were crushing him, squeezing him like an overinflated balloon. The guilt, panic, and pressure all built up made Tim feel like he was going to pop, but then he saw the face of his mentor force itself from the wall.

"Snap out of it, kid. You're stronger than this. Whatever you're seeing ain't real!" the hallucination yelled at Tim, as he felt like he was being shaken.

"It's all my fault, I don't deserve to be your Pupil," he said defeated.

"What? That don't matter right now, all that matters is people down there need our help!" the Bat retorted.

"I'm just going to fail again. I know what's going to happen. Everything is just going to get worse, and worse…" Tim said through choked up breaths.

"It might, but it's a sure thing if we don't at least try. Now snap out of it!" the oddly loud and bombastic voice of the Bat said before Tim was smacked hard across the face by a hand as hard as bronze.

Tim snapped back to reality as he saw Luke Bronze holding him like a stuffed animal. "Can you put me down, please?" Tim asked sheepishly. Luke was a giant in comparison to the Pupil. Then there came gravity, as Luke dropped him back on the ground. "Luke, what happened?"

Luke was wearing an oxygen mask with a tank slung over his shoulder. The weight seemed effortless to him. "Jewels knocked me out, but when that reaper fool sent his stuff everywhere, I punched a hole in the wall to send the gas outside to peter out. Then, I used this thing to tide me over until it all got filtered outside," he explained as he took the mask off and tossed the tank aside. Tim would then notice there was a bit of a draft on this floor. He supposed that Bronze's rather barbaric method had some merit.

"You had no protection kid, but you held on for a long time before it got to you. Bats was right about you, y'know. You're tougher than I thought." he praised as he looked past Tim to find the way downstairs. "You ready to finish this, Eye Boy?"

Pupil took a deep breath, what he saw wasn't real. It wasn't his fault for how the world played out, all he could control was now. "Yeah, I'm good. Let's go. I know the way down." He then ran off back from where he came with the Tiger in tow. Hopefully together, they could stand a chance against the Joker, the Jester, and a rampaging Bane.


The Blind Bat was launched across the Asylum by a super-steroided punch from the mighty Kingpain. The behemoth rose from the stairwell, each step like thunder. Before, Bane's venom was regulated by a device on his arm, and then extremely limited by the respirator. But now, all that power was flowing through him at once.

Mr. Scary had made this last dose extra strong specifically as Bane's grand finale. His body pulsed green as it continued to grow and bulge with every step. Without the mask, once this dose of venom burned itself out, Wilson's body would be unable to sustain itself. He did not have long left to live. The mad chemist knew that if Bane had lost control of Goth's Kitchen, an empire he'd spent his whole life working to build, there was nothing else. The Kingpain had nothing left to lose, and if he was going to burn himself out like a fizzling candle, he was going to do it while snapping the Blind Bat's wick.

Bane charged at the Bat like a rampaging bull, it was unfortunate the bat's cape was a deep red. He was dodging the heavy-handed haymakers like his life depended on it, and it did. Any blows he did land with his fists, or his batons bounced off Bane's body like nothing. The Bat beat Bane the first time by cutting off his venom supply. It was surprisingly easy to dislodge a plastic tube connecting from his wrist to his neck. That didn't seem like an option this time.

The Kingpain's raw body was invincible, and by contrast, the Blind Bat's armored costume was starting to fail him. Matt heard his ribs crack after that last punch. He was in a lot of pain after all the fighting. Time had not been kind to him.

"Ever since you put me back in this prison, I have dreamed of the day I would get to break you again!" Bane boasted as he slugged the Bat across the face.

Blind Bat put up his fists to guard against the next attack, although he knew it wouldn't be very effective. To think he could be considered a god amongst his fellow Leaguers, but he was all too mortal. "Bane…killing me won't bring you peace. You're going to die without your mask when that stuff runs out. Stand down…and maybe we can still save you." No matter what the scenario was, the Bat tried tirelessly to save his foes. Although, he was very tired right now.

Bane grabbed the Bat and slammed him into the floor, followed by a chuckle. "If I die, I die. I would rather die with a vengeance, than live unfulfilled." He stared into the blank, red eyes of the Bat's cowl. His own were a vibrant green from the venom coursing through his blood.

The Blind Bat tried to fire off his grapple baton to drag himself out of the fight, but Bane grabbed the hook as it flew out, yanking the weapon from his hand. "Your fancy toys mean nothing now," Bane teased as he lifted the Bat into the air, his tattered cape hopelessly dangling from his back. He was prepared to finish what he started and once again crack the Blind Bat over his knee. "I break you now. Adios, El rata alada."

Bane was then cracked across the face by an optic blast from above. He dropped the Blind Bat on the ground. Up in the rafters was Pupil and Caged Tiger. "Hey, Bane! Pick on someone in your own weight class!" Luke yelled before jumping down from a 20-foot drop and hitting the floor with a loud crash.

Bane looked at Luke with mild annoyance. His body oozed with power as the Venom continued to grow his body to larger proportions. Someone that big and green could be mistaken for Captain Gamma. He was getting stronger, but how long would it be until that strength went into something further? "I stayed away from Harlem because I didn't believe fighting you was worth my time, Bronze. I will not make that mistake again."

Luke cracked his neck and slipped on his bronze attachments to his knuckles, "I'm worth a lot more than your time. I made Black Doom quiver in his boots over $200, honey. You're just another paycheck," he taunted before both of them threw massive punches. The fists collided with each other, and the fight began.

As Tim grappled down to the floor to snatch The Bat away from the fight, they both looked up at the two giant men, "Pupil, the Venom he's on is far more volatile than anything he's ever had before. I can hear the chemicals bubbling beneath his skin. His body can't take it much longer," the Bat said weakly.

"What, are you suggesting we try and save him? You really want to do this now, Bats?" Tim questioned. The faithful young ward was typically on board with the overwhelmingly merciful actions of the Blind Bat, but now was not the time. Bane's heart was going to burn through the steroids, and then stop beating. And after everything Bane had done to plague the city, Tim was inclined to let it happen.

"I don't like it, but he's more dangerous dead than alive. Just trust me on this," the Blind Bat asserted firmly. As much as he found Bane despicable, and he probably deserved a gruesome death for the cancer he was upon Goth's Kitchen, he was too much of a risk to let happen here. "Find Dragon Fist, we need him to purify his body. He'll know what to do. I'll handle Kilgrave and Quinzel."

Pupil looked at his mentor incredulously, "Bats, I can't tell where the red of your costume ends, and your red begins. You need to get out of here and call for backup."

"Anyone I call will just be another threat if Joker gets his hands on them," the Bat assured as he stood up, grabbed his batons. He then noticed one cell around them that hadn't been affected by Lorna's magnetism, someone who had returned to their cell willingly. "Besides, I already have backup here."

"You sure you got this, Blind Bat? I'm not sure how much more punishment you can take." Tim asked worried, he knew Matt wouldn't go down until he physically couldn't keep going. It was admirable, but equally disconcerting.

"I didn't hear a bell, now go!" the Blind Bat ordered before rushing off to the cell of Typhoid Ivy, and Pupil darted towards the general population wing to retrieve Dragon Fist.