The first call reached the Gotham City Police Department at nine PM. A horrified woman in the suburbs screaming that her husband had opened some unmarked package, began shouting in horror and ran off, garbed in what looked to be a Batman costume. Almost instantly thereafter the phones began ringing off their hooks. Mothers, fathers, bachelors down the hall, teenagers, reports of all sorts describing the same thing- shouting individuals with lethal force in Batman suits, attacking anything in their sights.

Not fifteen minutes after the first call, with the station's highest ranking officer's already dispatched across the city, a raving woman dressed in one of the suits came running through the station's front door. Secretaries were ducking under the bulletproof glass that lined the entryway as shots were fired. Everywhere the terrified woman garbed in black looked, she saw destruction and decay. The walls stared at her, mouths forming through cracks in the plaster, daring her to strike them down. The secretaries held their hands firmly over their heads until the bullet fire seemed to cease. One of them peered up to see Nightwing, shaking with what could have been fear or anger, the screaming woman in the costume unconscious at his feet. "Everyone alright back there?" He asked, rapping at the bulletproof windows. When the situation seemed neutralized, he brought a hand to the piece in his ear. "Nightwing reporting… yes… I know. It's absolutely insane out here. Any word on some backup?"

"Any Leaguers who are on earth and within five states are headed our way," Red Robin said, he himself struggling for breath after a recent confrontation. "Got ahold of a few Titans too-" Before Red Robin could finish the thought, Nightwing could hear a fresh round of fire and screaming from his side. "God damnit! How many of them are there? Where the hell are they coming from?!"

Red Robin descended from the roof he had used to catch his breath, getting an eyeful of a pair of the would-be Batmen, each emerging from apartment buildings on opposite sides of the street. Amongst their seemingly endless, wonton gunfire at any civilian, animal or car caught in their periphery, Red Robin observed the way they each turned to face one another before rushing into combat. One was firing from a wrist-mounted machine gun, the other with a jet of flames blasting from each hand. In their nearly drunken stupor their attacks fanned out to the honking, terrified drivers, some of whom threw open their doors and ran while others ducked into their back seats.

Clutching his staff, tasting the blood welling up in his mouth, Red Robin jumped from the rooftop towards the one nearest to him with the machine gun. A pair of kicks to the back of his knees staggered him and a few strikes with his staff forced him to unconsciousness. Red Robin looked up to see the jets of flame approaching him as the other wailed in unintelligible babble. Sweat pouring down his face, he stood up to face him before the flame on the left was dispersed in a blast of coolant. This one searched for whoever had just struck him with a freeze grenade as another disabled the flamethrower on his right, Angel and Robin meeting on each of his sides and beating him out with a few strikes.

"They're not trained," Robin said, trying to catch his breath. "I think they're just civilians… but there's so damn many of them. Where did they even come from?"

"Doesn't matter," Angel said. "We can't stop now. No matter how many there are."

"Drake, I can't believe I'm saying this, but if the League can't get out here fast enough, we could seriously use a hand from your wife."

In reality, just as Damian had expressed that sentiment, Stephanie stood in her mother's house, exchanging reluctant words of her own.

"You told me you threw that suit out months ago," Crystal said. "You told me after the baby you were going to stop all this."

"I know I did, Mom," Stephanie said, looking shamefaced at the floor as she tried to settle the crying Oscar in her arms. "I tried Mom… I am trying!"

"I would have thought you of all people wanted better for your son than your father gave you."

"I'm not like Dad!" Stephanie said, her shame instantly snapping to anger. "Dad was a criminal, Dad put people's lives in danger—"

"And he left you asking me when he was coming home!" Crystal said. "He left us both wondering if he was ever coming home. When you became a parent, a real parent this time, you were supposed to take on new responsibilities."

"This time?" Stephane demanded. "Don't you dare bring that kid from when I was a teenager into this! I was a scared, stupid kid myself and I did what you didn't think I could. I gave her a better life. In the hardest choice I've ever made, I did the right thing."

"… If you're going out, just give him to me," Crystal said with a sigh. "You're a woman now, I can't stop you… your husband's already out there, isn't he?"

"Of course he is."

"If you two screw up, you're leaving your son an orphan," Crystal said. "I'm telling you all this because I love you, Stephanie, and I love him." Being in the arms of his grandmother seemed to calm Oscar a bit.

"Mom… I'll swear on anything you want me to that I'll stop," Stephanie said. "This is bad. I got a call from Tim an hour ago, the entire inner-city is going to hell faster than any of them can stop it. They need all the help they can get."

Crystal motioned over her shoulder at the staircase. "Go to your bedroom and get changed then." Stephanie ran as fast as she could, pulling the pack off her back and pulling out her uniform. To Oscar, Crystal quietly said, "Your mother is the stupidest, bravest girl I've ever known in my life."

The city had, at this point, dissolved into a warzone. Screeching men and women burst out from apartments, houses and places of business. For the first two hours the masked vigilantes who frequented Gotham struggled to contain the growing insanity. More distant employees once under Batman's tutelage or in his aid, including Batwoman, Huntress and Katana made rare appearances to try and combat the growing threat. Only just after the second hour mark, as Batgirl and Nightwing, encountering one another by chance starring down the barrel of a 45, that a blast of heat vision melted the weapon before it could be fired. In a blur of red and blue the attacker was put to the ground, the cowl torn from his head before his face met the concrete.

"You two alright?"

"Your timing's about perfect there, Supes," Nightwing said with a sigh of relief. "I seriously hope none of these guys are carrying kryptonite."

"Who else is coming?" Batgirl asked. "We need all the help we can get."

"We're spread thin right now," Superman said. "Diana is dealing with a crisis in Olympus, Kyle and the rest of the Lanerns have business on Oa, Wally is dealing with a temporary depowerment... J'onn wanted me to report he's looked inside a few of their minds. They've all been drugged, said it looked like a strain of Scarecrow's fear toxin was soaking the inside of the costumes."

"Great, just great," Nightwing said. "We've been fighting these guys for hours and aren't any closer to a solution. There's got to be some kind of answer. Someone has to know something we don't."

Amongst the carnage covering the streets, there remained the two whose focus remained on only one. Barbara sat, strapped to her wheelchair, eyes shifting between Kuttler and James as the two bickered over how she should face her demise. The three stood in the highest room of the devastated clock tower, which had once served as Oracle's base.

"I'm telling you, Gordon, it's all about making a statement," Kuttler said, a rope in his hands. "We hang her from her own hideout. We say we've taken everything away!"

"It's too elaborate," James said. "Too much work. We can just shove the chair off the tower! She'll look like spaghetti sauce by the time she hits the ground, that's symbolic enough."

Ever since The Joker had put a bullet through her spine, Barbara fought to never show a sign of weakness when confronted by an enemy. Dick had said years of bottling up fear and hesitation had made her colder and more reserved, but even in this crisis, she gave them nothing. Except for the comment, "Why don't you fight over it?"

Any occasion the two gave her Barbara had attempted to create animosity between them. And only now, standing over an attempt on her life, did it seem to be working. "Shut up," Kuttler snapped. "We're not playing this game."

"Why not?" James asked. "Because I'd beat you?"

Noah Kuttler and James Gordon Jr. represented two very different, but easily manipulated types of criminals. Kuttler had always obsessed over how any action and any kill would affect his reputation, while her brother was always dedicated to just causing as much chaos as possible. Were it not for Barbara itself, the two would never have had a reason to interact. That was what she needed to utilize.

"You really should cut your losses on this one, Noah," Barbara said. "You're a cyber thief, James is a Gordon. People with that last name tend to beat you every time."

"I said shut up!" Kuttler said, thrusting the rope over her neck and pulling her backwards. Barbara gagged, but only glared at him otherwise. As he did, James punched him in the mouth.

"I said no rope!" James shouted. "It's too merciful! I've been waiting much too long for this, I want her to be nothing but red pavement!"

"Watch yourself, cyclops," Kuttler said, standing straight again. "She's just an annoyance to you… but she has spent years ruining me!"

Barbara managed to shut her eyes and breathe a sigh of relief as the calm the two shared was finally shattered. She could hear flesh meeting flesh as two of her greatest enemies began fighting over the right to kill her. She knew, in all likelihood, James was going to win. And may well do it quickly. There was no guarantee she could save herself, but now there was at least a chance.

If Batman had taught her anything over the years, it had been how to always prepare for the worst possible scenario. She had always known there was a small chance someone could one day break into the old clock tower and retrieve the data kept in those old hard drives. A backup generator had been installed to quietly return power to a single machine contained within once the hard drives returned to life, awaiting a vocal command. She could have said it at any point, but no one would have had a way into her secret bunker. It had taken all her time, but she convinced James and Kuttler they had to end it in her office. Not through conventional arguments, but expressing how much either would have to do to prove their worth in killing her. That simply slitting her throat amongst the Batman-suited anarchy wasn't good enough.

Maybe they'd still kill her. Maybe this wouldn't help at all. But if a chance was presented, it had to be taken.

"Joke's on you!"
With the password accepted there came a rumble from the top of the clock tower, a final hidden panel opening upon the roof and firing a giant Bat-symbol onto the clouds above. From all over the city this drew the attention of her allies.

"What the hell?" Red Robin said, looking to Angel and Robin before activating his earpiece. "Nightwing, you see that?"

"I'm just a block from it," he said. "It's… holy crap, it's the clock tower! It's gotta be Barbara!"

Batgirl went to grab ahold of his shoulder but he jumped off the roof before she could. "Wait!" She called. "It might be a trap!" But Nightwing would not be deterred, if there was a chance Barbara was there, he had to take it.

Peering up from the destroyed face of the tower, Kuttler stared at the signal in horror before resuming his battle with James with renewed fervor. "You idiot! You let her slip through our fingertips!"

As he shouted and fought, Barbara went to work trying to pull apart the ropes James had used to tie her hands to the chair. "You always were a crappy scout," she said under her breath.

"You're wasting your time!" James shouted. "The signal's already up, if we're going to kill her we have to do it—"

Kuttler could stand no more as Barbara heard the new round of attacks. "We're not doing anything! You went and ruined everything, I'm killing the Oracle!"

Barbara managed to free her right hand. Having both would make freeing her left easier, but even then, where was she supposed to go? She was still trapped atop the clock tower. She managed to maneuver around to see Kuttler desperately struggling to force a knife from James' hand, bending the arm with all his might until James released it.

In the space of a few seconds, Kuttler grabbed the knife off the floor, jumped at James and buried it between his eyes with a vertical thrust. James was screaming in agony as he fell to the floor, convulsing as he held the wound, letting out shrieks and blubbers from his ruined state. Kuttler stood up straight, looking at his work for a moment before turning, rushing and tackling Barbara, forcing her from her chair and against the remains of the face of the clock tower.

"I could never beat a Gordon, huh?" Kuttler said. "I could have never beaten you, that's what you said, isn't it bitch? Well I'm about to go two for two!"

For perhaps just a moment, Barbara's brave façade faded. Maybe the smallest twinge of true, unbridled terror crossed her face. But the moment later, she spat at Kuttler's glasses and said, "See you in hell."

With the force of all his adrenaline, Kuttler threw her out the open face of the tower. He was done with symbols, done with proof. All that mattered was she would die. So important was this that he didn't even notice the clank of Nightwing's grappling hook as it took ahold of the clock tower.

Nightwing ascended the tower in a blur of motion, Barbara safely held in one of his arms as he faced Kuttler, exhausted eyes meeting horrified ones.

"I don't know who you're working for," Nightwing said. "But I hope he's going to pay to have your glasses replaced." Kuttler was brought down with a single punch, leaving Barbara and Nightwing a moment to fall into one another. "You had me so worried, Babs."

"I called out to you all as soon as I could," she said. "I know you need to get back out there. I know it's bad—"

"Oh, but if he goes, he'll have no chance to settle the score with me."

Both of the heroes looked to the staircase leading to the tower's face as Prometheus, confident as ever, came into view. Nightwing seemed more annoyed than impressed with this revelation. "Oh you've got to be kidding me. This was you? What are you even doing here? You're the Justice League's problem."

"I am a problem to any who would declare themselves gods in my presence," Prometheus said, adjusting one of his gloves and clenching his fists. "The lord of Gotham has been slain, but his demigods still try to maintain his pathetic sense of order. Demigods like you, Richard Grayson."

Nightwing drew his two escrima sticks, triggering the tasers that were attached to each end. "Sorry I can't get you out of here fast enough, Babs. But tall, armored and purple here just mentioned my secret identity."

Prometheus met Nightwing in the center of the tower, but in spite of a thrust from the sticks and the subsequent burst of electricity, Prometheus only laughed. "Wields a pair of escrima sticks, tipped with electrical wiring." Nightwing attempted to jump to his side, but was caught by his throat halfway through his dodge. "Child circus performer. Skilled and acrobatic." And with that, he thrust Nightwing to the floor, pinning him against the ground as a board below shattered into splinters. "Feels he alone carries Batman's greatest legacy on his shoulders. Fears being a disappointment… and for good reason, I should say."

Prometheus stood up as he was struck by a set of batarangs, turning to face the freshly arrived cavalry in the form of Red Robin, Batgirl, Angel and Robin.

"Step off of him," Robin said. "You don't want to deal with me. I was trained—"

"Trained by the League of Assassins, yes indeed," Prometheus said, tossing Nightwing aside. "Grandson of the legendary Ra's al Ghul. Impeccable warrior, by all accounts—" Robin too rushed at him, a katana drawn from his back. Prometheus produced his bladelike nightstick and clashed with him, leaning in close to continue his analysis. "Yet fears rejection from every corner of his life. Fears his mother's disapproval for finding him too soft, fears his father's contempt for being too fierce." Prometheus broken the clash and smacked Robin across the back of his head, flooring him. "Above all else, a child, desperately seeking approval."

There was no holding back on numbers from there. Batgirl and Red Robin both set upon him with their staffs, Angel coming from the opposite side with her dulled katana. Prometheus continued to dance around them all, his armor accepting any impact from their blows before they met his nightstick or fists.

"Timothy Drake, the Red Robin. Joined Batman's crusade as a child, under the impression he saved the knight's life, now struggling to understand his place years later." Prometheus managed to grab Tim by the back of the head and thrust his face into his armored knee. "Unaware he has no place anymore."

"Stephanie Brown, the Batgirl. Grew up with a lowly criminal of a father. Always looked at Batman as a surrogate, but his apathy always left her struggling to know she was good enough." Catching her staff as it approached his face, Prometheus ripped it from her hands, driving it first into her gut and then into her face. "And no wonder. The bat never had time for weaklings."

"Cassandra Cain, the Angel of the Bat. Monstrous father, fears her own incredible power. Struggling to find purpose and comfort through Catholicism. Lesbian-leaning bisexual." In spite of managing to dodge out more of his blows than the rest, Prometheus triggered a mechanism in his nightstick, forcing an electric current through it and, just after, Angel's blade, knocking her to the ground, shuddering against the blast of lightning running through her body. "I suppose you can't all be disappointments to the Batman. No, you are a disappointment to a greater, celestial father."

Prometheus was well aware his completely systematic beatdown of the family came only from their exhaustion fighting the forces in the Batsuits, but it didn't matter. He could see it well enough, he was crushing their morale and their bodies. Still, the five didn't surrender, pushing back to their feet as fast as they were able only for Prometheus to overwhelm them again.

As her awareness of the fight slowly washed over, Barbara realized she could not sit idly by on the floor and do nothing. The five were sacrificing their lives trying to defeat the madman, she had to do whatever she could to help them. She had seen Prometheus equip his armor before, she knew its structure. "Go for his back!" She shouted. "His armor can be removed from his back!"

"Be quiet, girl!" Prometheus said, pulling a pistol from his belt and point it in her direction. Before he could succeed where his minions had failed, Nightwing tackled him from the side, knocking the gun from his hand as it rolled across the floor, stopping a few feet from Barbara.

With renewed energy the five attacked Prometheus, Red Robin managing to tear off his cape and shouting, "I can see a crank!" before Prometheus turned and kicked him in the gut.

Blades and staffs and batarangs continued to strike Prometheus, but the fact remained the gathered company was simply too tired to properly combat him, only further aggravated with the taunt, "You came here to stop me, when you could have been saving all those poor sheep in the suits. You truly have failed your mentor!"

With this, he turned to Barbara. "And then there's you, of course. Barbara Gordon, the Oracle. Batman's most trusted informant. His perfect tool, his—"

To Prometheus's detriment, the others had observed his routine of rattling off personal flaws and fears one time too many. With a simultaneously jump Red Robin and Nightwing managed to bring him to the ground, Red Robin shouting, "Hurry up! Someone get the crank!"

Batgirl was the closest, and she swiftly turned it in place, compressing the pieces that held together Prometheus's chest plate. Almost immediately afterwards, the villain threw the former Robins from his back and knocked Batgirl down with a backhanded strike. "Foolishness!" he said, a much thinner layer of black now all that was covering his chest and back. "You think it makes a difference?"

Angel was the first to attempt a new attack, thrusting her fingers into his pectorals with a series of pressure point strikes. Though Prometheus showed far more pain than before, he pushed through and set upon her with another strike from his nightstick. Robin threw a few punches of his own, even penetrating the layer and entering his skin with a stab from a batarang, but Promethus remained mostly unaffected.

Strike after strike made contact, but the madman simply would not slow. He was beaten, battered, tripped, struck, even momentarily paralyzed, but nothing seemed to be working. Whether it was his fists or his nightstick, all opposition ultimately ended with Prometheus overwhelming any opponents who dared approach him.

"I only wish you could join us, Miss Gordon!" Prometheus said, not even turning to face her. "It is almost a shame one as impressive as you can't fight!"

He was wrong. She could fight. In fact, there was practically a war going on inside her head.

"Can't protect the ones you hold dear."

He was wrong. She could protect them.

By now the five laid bloodied and beaten, all struggling to even stand. Still without taking a glance over his shoulder, Prometheus drew a second pistol from its holster. "Tell me something then, Barbara. Who would you miss the most? Little Batgirl, who fought so hard to take your mantle? The Angel who you took in and love almost as if she was your child? Or perhaps the man whose advances you rejected. The one who should be—"

There came a blast of pistol fire.

Prometheus was not the one responsible.

In a roar of absolute agony Prometheus fell to the ground, fingers digging deep into the wood of the tower as he tried to push back up. To his horror, no matter how he pushed, he could not. "Wha- What?" He demanded amongst the growing gravel of pain. "I- I- I can't feel my legs!"

"Did you think I was stupid enough to keep a file on myself?" Barbara asked, looking down at the ground. "Did you think I was just some worthless paraplegic you didn't need to even think about…? Barbara Gordon, the Oracle. Daughter of police commissioner James Gordon. Taught how to wield a firearm by her ever-protective father from childhood. Is farsighted, so otherwise able to distinguish shapes from a long distance without glasses." She tossed the gun aside. "Gotham's leading expert on what you have to do to someone's Goddamn spine to make sure they never walk again."

After all of the madness of the night, Nightwing was still unsure it was all over when he struggled to his feet and got a good look at the sobbing Barbara. At last, something had stripped her of her more stoic hero demeanor. In spite of the hard fought victory, she had betrayed one of the most precious principles of her friend and mentor. All she could do was cry.

…

"Checkmate. And that makes two out of three," Barbara said, sitting back in her wheelchair and staring at her equally handicapped opponent. "You have something to tell me yet?"

The long defeated Prometheus shrugged as he mimicked her position. "You're asking the man whose greatest purpose is anarchy if he had anything to do with a man committing vigilante justice. No, Barbara. I'm sorry to waste your time, but I don't know anything about this." Barbara's position changed so she could better glare at him from across the table. "… But it isn't as if all those suits and all that data just disappeared. If your opponent out there recognized Cassandra, he might have had possession of my old helmet."

"You wouldn't have any idea who claimed your things, would you?"

"Of course not."

"You do realize if you're lying, you're letting a new god steal Gotham's fire, don't you?"

"That's precisely why I have no reason to lie to you, Barbara," Prometheus said. "I want him defeated as well. Especially if it's my technology he's stolen."

The two shared a few more carefully chosen words before Prometheus pulled himself back into his bed and Barbara rolled out of his sanctum.

"You were certainly in there long enough," Sawyer said. "Any leads?"

"We've taken… Maybe half a step forward."

…

[Author's note: I hope, at a later time, to extend the battle against the civilians in Batsuits against the family, the Justice League and the Titans into a short story called "The Road to Nowhere" later down the line. But for now, my focus remains on this story. Especially now that we're finally back to the present for a little while.]