Metropolis. Night. The city's a jungle of steel and neon. Clark Kent's apartment. Cramped. Cluttered. George Wayne fills the room like a black hole. Clark, all nerves and glasses, paces.

"George, this Luthor thing. it's eating at me. What's your angle?"

George's voice, gravel and iron: "Redemption, Kent. Pure and simple."

"Luthor? Redemption? You're out of your mind."

"Am I?" George's eyes flash. "Think, Clark. Luthor's got the brains. The resources. Imagine that power… channeled for good."

Clark stops pacing. Stares hard at George. "You really think you can turn him?"

"Turn him? No. Guide him. Show him a better way."

"And the robberies?"

"A test. His way of flexing. I'll give him something bigger to flex on."

Clark's brow furrows. "This is insane. You're Batman, for Christ's sake. Why not just-

"Take him down?" George cuts in. "Sometimes the best way to beat your enemy is to make him your ally."

There was a heavy silence. Clark's mind races. He remembers a time when Batman was a symbol, a beacon. When he looked up to the Dark Knight.

"You've changed, George. This. this isn't the Batman I knew."

George's laugh is cold. "The world's changed, Clark. We have to change with it."

Clark collapses onto his couch. Defeated. "And if you're wrong? If Luthor can't be redeemed?"

George moves to the window. Metropolis glitters in the distance. "Then I'll do what needs to be done. Like always."

* * *

Metropolis. LexCorp Tower. Top floor. The city sprawls below like a circuit board. George Wayne and Lex Luthor, titans of industry, locked in verbal combat. The air crackles with intellect and ambition.

"Wayne, you magnificent bastard," Luthor grins, all teeth and venom. "I knew you had it in you. Not like the other trust fund brats."

George's eyes narrow. "Cut the crap, Lex. We both know flattery's just another weapon in your arsenal."

Luthor laughs, a sound like breaking glass. "And here I thought we were becoming friends."

"Friends? In this game? Don't make me laugh."

Silence. Luthor's face hardens. "You want the truth, Wayne? Fine. Those robberies? They're just the tip of the iceberg."

George leans forward. "I'm listening."

"Project Prometheus. A neural interface. Direct link between human consciousness and artificial intelligence."

"Christ, Lex. You're playing with fire."

Luthor's eyes gleam. "Fire? This is a supernova, Wayne. Imagine it. Humanity, evolved. Our minds, unfettered by biological limitations."

"And who's pulling the strings? You?"

"Me… and an old friend. Ever heard of Ultra-Humanite?"

George's blood runs cold. The voice in his head whispers, "Careful, boy. This game just got a lot more dangerous."

Luthor continues, oblivious. "With his brilliance and my resources, we're on the cusp of something… revolutionary."

George forces a smile. "Sounds... ambitious."

"Ambitious? It's the future, Wayne. The question is… are you in or out?"

George stands, looming over Luthor. "You know me, Lex. I'm always in for a good gamble but I do have my… reservations."

"Go on." Lex motioned for him to continue

The room was taut. George Wayne—six-feet-plus of him—loomed over Lex Luthor's desk. His chiseled jaw flexed, his eyes locked onto the bald billionaire.

"Lex, you're smarter than this. Increasing humanity with technology? That's nothing but a— "

Luthor's fingers steepled, a sneer curling his lip. "And what would you know about intelligence, Wayne? Born with a silver spoon, playing at being a businessman."

George leaned in, his voice a low growl. "I know more than you think, Lex. There are… other ways. Ways to push the human mind beyond its limits without relying on cold silicon."

Lex's eyes narrowed. "Enlighten me."

"It's about unlocking what's already there. The human brain—it's the most sophisticated computer ever created. We just need to learn how to use it. "

A chuckle from the doorway. Both men turned to see Ultra-Humanite, his massive frame filling the entrance.

"How quaint," the simian genius sneered. "Luthor, surely you're not entertaining this… primitive notion?"

George's fists clenched. The voice in his head—dark, twisted—whispered, "Show them true power, George. Crush them."

He pushed it down, focusing on Lex. "Your Neuralink knockoff? It's flawed. You're trying to bypass millions of years of evolution. But what if we could accelerate it instead?"

Lex leaned back, intrigued despite himself. "Go on."

"Targeted genetic therapy. Nootropic compounds that work with our biology, not against it. We could unlock human potential without turning us into cyborgs."

Ultra-Humanite slammed a huge fist on the desk. "Nonsense! Our path is clear. Humanity must evolve beyond flesh."

George spun, his eyes blazing. "And lose what makes us human in the process? There's more to intelligence than processing power."

Lex stood, pacing. "You make… interesting points, Wayne. But how do you propose we—"

An explosion rocked the building. Alarms blared.

George's eyes narrowed. "We'll continue this later, Lex."

Long strides carried him out the door, and the voice in his head laughed. "Time to play hero, George."

Glass towers shuddered at Metropolis as Batman's cape whipped in the hot wind as he landed on cracked pavement. Smoke. Screams. Chaos.

"Goddamn mess," he growled, eyes narrowing behind white lenses.

Five figures emerged from the rubble, their metal exoskeletons shining like alien carapaces. Advanced. Too advanced.

The voice in his head, dark and twisted, whispered, "Show them true fear, George."

Batman's fist connected with the first suit, knuckles crunching against unyielding alloy. They were strong. Fast. Inhumanly so.

He ducked, a plasma blast searing the air where his head had been. Rolling, he came up swinging, Lady Shiva's deadly grace flowing through his muscles.

"Who's pulling your strings?" he snarled, slamming one into a wall. No answer. Just relentless, mechanized violence.

A blast caught him in the side, sent him sprawling. Pain exploded through his ribs. He tasted copper.

"Shit," he spat, struggling to his feet. The world spun. Five became ten. He was good. Damn good. But they were better.

That's when he saw him. A blur of red and blue against the smoke-choked sky.

Superman touched down, his eyes aglow with crimson. "Rough night, partner?"

Batman's lips arched into a hard, warming grin. "Took your sweet time, boy scout."

They moved as one, a symphony of destruction. Batman's tactical genius complementing Superman's raw power. Fists and heat vision tore through metal like tissue paper.

In minutes, it was over. Robotic suits sparked and smoked. Their occupants groaned, unconscious.

Camera flashes exploded like stars. Reporters swarmed, hungry for the story.

"Superman! Batman! How long has this been going on between you two?"

But Batman was already gone, lost in the shadows like a nightmare at dawn.

Superman's voice carried on the wind. "Until next time, Dark Knight."

George smirked beneath the cowl, the adrenaline still singing in his veins. The voice in his head chuckled. "Not bad, kid. Not bad at all."

As George wrestled, his mind was racing. Those suits. The tech. He realized he would also have to clean up any criminals using these suits, not just in Metropolis but also in Gotham.

What a pain.

* * *

The penthouse stank of antiseptic and sweat. George Wayne, stripped to the waist, winced as Shiva's quick fingers probed his bruised ribs. "Fuck," he hissed through clenched teeth.

Shiva's eyes narrowed. "You're getting sloppy, Wayne. These injuries… amateur."

George grunted, pushing himself upright. "Maybe I like the pain."

"Liar," Shiva purred. She leaned in close, her breath hot on his ear. "Now, tell me about Luthor."

George's jaw tightened. "It's under control."

"Is it?" Shiva's fingernails dug into his shoulder. "What aren't you telling me?"

A heartbeat. Two. George met her gaze. "Ultra-Humanite. He's the puppetmaster. Luthor's just the face."

Shiva's lips curved into a predator's smile. "Good boy. I was there, you know. Watching. If you'd lied." Her hand slid to his throat.

George's pulse quickened. He could feel the killer's instinct radiating off her in waves. "You'd have ended me right here."

"Without hesitation." Shiva straddled him, her lean body pressed against his. "You understand the game we play, don't you, George?"

He nodded, aware of how vulnerable he was. How close he'd come to death. Again.

Shiva's lips crashed into his, hungry and fierce. George responded, his body betraying him even as his mind screamed danger.

The voice in his head laughed. "Living on the edge, kid. Just like old times."

* * *

Orange blazed the Metropolis skyline, the sun sinking like a spent bullet. George Wayne's Lamborghini carved through traffic with the ease and stealth of a black shark in an ocean of steel and exhaust. His mind churned with a thousand variables: Luthor, the meeting, the goddamn voice in his head whispering strategy.

Then chaos erupted.

A thunderous crash. Metal screeching. George's eyes snapped to the rearview. "Jesus H. Christ," he snarled. Ultra-Humanite. Half-ape, half-machine, all nightmare.

The voice of the cyborg boomed, amplified and distorted. "Mr. Wayne! How kind of you to save me the trouble of breaking into LexCorp."

George's knuckles whitened on the wheel. No Batsuit. No gadgets. Just his wits and a car that cost more than most people's homes. "Fuck me sideways," he muttered.

He yanked the wheel hard left. Tires screamed. Pedestrians scattered like startled pigeons. Ultra-Humanite's fist cratered the pavement where the Lamborghini had been a heartbeat before.

"Come now, Wayne," the monstrosity taunted. "Surely the great philanthropist isn't afraid of a little... conversation?"

George's mind raced. Options dwindling. Then - a flash of blue and red. Superman. For a moment, hope surged.

It died just as quickly.

A sickly green glow burst forth from Ultra-Humanite's chest. Kryptonite. Superman stumbled, crashed into the side of a skyscraper in a shower of glass and twisted metal.

"Now then," Ultra-Humanite growled, advancing. "Where were we?"

George's eyes darted. Alley. Narrow. Dark. Perfect. He gunned it, metal shrieking as the Lamborghini squeezed through the gap. Ultra-Humanite roared in frustration, too bulbous to follow.

The seconds seemed to stretch into eternity. George's heart hammered in his chest. Then - darkness. Cover. He slammed on the brakes, leaped out. His flying fingers manipulated hidden catches and latches; the trunk of the car popped open, revealing a sleek matte-black suit.

Heavy footsteps from Ultra-Humanite echoed closer and closer.

"Wayne! Don't make this-"

The words died as Batman emerged from the shadows. Cape billowing. Eyes narrowed to white slits. Voice a gravelly growl.

"Playtime's over, asshole."

Ultra-Humanite's cybernetic eye whirred, recalculating. "Ah, the Bat. How… unexpected."

Batman's lips curled into a fierce grin. "I'm full of surprises."

They clashed in a blur of fists and sparks. Batman moved with inhuman grace, Lady Shiva's lethal ballet flowing through every motion. But Ultra-Humanite was relentless. A juggernaut of flesh and chrome.

"You can't win this, Batman," Ultra-Humanite sneered, backhanding the Dark Knight into a dumpster. "I've calculated every possible outcome."

Batman rose, spitting blood. His fist connected with Ultra-Humanite's jaw in a shower of sparks. "Then your math fucking sucks."

The battle raged on, cityscape their arena. Sirens wailed in the distance. Time running out.

Batman's mind raced, assembling the pieces. The voice in his head whispered, dark and eager. "Show him true fear, George. Make him remember this day."

As twilight bled into night, Batman prepared to do just that, and failed miserably at it.
The alley reeked of piss and defeat. Batman slumped against a bulding, every breath a knife in his ribs. Ultra-Humanite loomed, eyes glowing with murderous glee.

"Fuck," Batman spat blood. "This isn't how I die."

The voice in his head cackled. "Then don't, kid. Use that big brain."

Ultra-Humanite's fist came down, a sledgehammer. Batman rolled, barely. Concrete shattered where his skull had been.

"Pathetic," the cyborg sneered. "I expected more from Gotham's protector."

Batman's mind raced. The Kryptonite. His salvation and damnation in one glowing rock.

"Come on, you walking scrapheap," he growled. "Hit me with your best shot."

Ultra-Humanite obliged. Batman twisted, agony screaming through every nerve. His fingers closed around the Kryptonite, yanking it free.

"No!" Ultra-Humanite roared.

A blur of red and blue. Superman, reborn. The fight was over in seconds, Ultra-Humanite crumpled like a discarded toy.

"Batman," Superman extended a hand. "You alright?"

Before Batman could answer, a slow clap echoed through the alley. Lex Luthor, immaculate in a tailored suit, stepped into view.

"Bravo, gentlemen," Luthor's voice dripped honey and poison. "Quite the spectacle. Batman, I must say, your heroics were… inspiring. Saving poor George Wayne like that."

Batman's jaw clenched. The irony tasted bitter.

"Just doing my job, Luthor."

Camera flashes exploded. Reporters manifested from thin air, vultures to the scene. Batman stood tall, trying to ignore the flames in his bones.

"Batman! Superman! How does it feel to save the day?"

Questions rained around him like bullets. Too tired to run, Batman played the part. Hero. Savior. The adoration washed over him, hollow as a corpse.

Superman beamed for the cameras. Batman's lips twisted into a mirthless smile.

The voice in his head whispered, "Let them being exhausted makes you connect with the public."

The city night swallows everything. Concrete and steel. Hope and despair. Batman stands, a dark sentinel against the chaos. His body's a map of pain, every breath a reminder of Ultra-Humanite's fury.

"You look like hell, Batman," Superman says, hovering nearby now.

Batman grunts. "Feel worse."

More questions. More flashes. Batman's head swims. He tastes copper. Blood.

"Batman! How does it feel to be Metropolis's hero?"

He wants to say it feels like shit. Like being hit by a truck. Instead, he grits out, "It's an honor to protect this city."

Superman, the boy scout, beams. "Batman and I are always ready to defend the innocent."

Hours pass. The adrenaline fades. Pain floods in. Batman's vision blurs. He sways.

Superman notices. "I think that's enough for tonight, folks. Batman needs rest."

As the crowd disperses, Luthor lingers. "You know, Batman, LexCorp could use someone with your… talents."

Batman's eyes narrow. "Not interested, Luthor."

Luthor smirks. "Never say never, Dark Knight. The night is young, and so are you."

The sky bleeds red then. Reality rips apart with Darkseid's arrival. Batman's muscles tighten, memories flooding back. His old memories. A dead kid's comic book fantasies.

"Well, well," the voice rumbles like an earthquake. "The anomaly reveals itself."

Superman hovers, fists clenched. "Who the hell are you?"

Batman grits his teeth. "Darkseid. New God. Bad news."

The voice in his head cackles. "Understatement of the century, kid."

Darkseid's eyes lock onto Batman. "You don't belong here, Dark Knight. Your very existence threatens the fabric of this universe."

Superman charges. "I don't care who you are-"

A beam of pure destruction erupts from Darkseid's eyes. Superman drops like a stone, smoking and silent.

"Fuck," Batman snarls. He reaches for a batarang, but his body betrays him. Exhaustion from the previous battle weighs him down.

Darkseid's massive hand closes around Batman's throat. "Your knowledge makes you dangerous. Your potential… intriguing."

The Reading System flashes warnings in Batman's vision. Critical damage. He was knocking on death's door.

"Let… go…" Batman chokes out.

Darkseid's laugh is like grinding stone. "Oh no, Batman. You're coming with me. Apokolips awaits."

Parademons swarm, their claws digging into Batman's flesh. He tries to fight, but darkness creeps in at the edges of his vision.

The last thing he sees is Metropolis in flames.

The last thing he hears is the voice in his head: "Well, kid. Looks like you're in for one hell of a ride."

Then, oblivion claims him.