The black van. It was handy. Well, to be more accurate: they were handy.
Batman had multiple of these, and they had always proved useful outside of strictly combat-focused scenarios.
Reconnaissance in an area heavily-congested with people? Black van, with computers inside, and a power source besides the van itself. Covert infiltration where an array of equipment would be needed? Black van, with the computers replaced with whatever was necessary at the time. Need to transport a handful of people for whatever purpose?
Black. Van.
One of those very vehicles had just pulled into a main highway. With the heavy tint and most traffic enforcers' lax nature toward such things, it was terrifyingly easy to get away with it.
"How did it go with the Manticore?" asked Batman. His eyes were focused solely on the road, but his other senses kept him alert to everything going on within the vehicle.
Nightwing turned his gaze back forward, having just been looking to the space behind him where five criminals sat bound and defeated. "He did great for his first time," he answered. "Took a few hits, but it turns out, he heals fast. He can even use that healing ability on others."
Batman had already suspected accelerated healing. It was only natural for metahumans — their vitality was always greater than regular people's, marginally or otherwise. But healing others?
That could be a game changer.
"Anything else?" he asked. It was unlikely that there would be anything more, but he voiced the question just in case.
Nightwing shrugged. "Honestly, I expected him to use the sword right away when he got it. I mean, who wouldn't, right? We remember Damian when he first came to us."
The joke drew a fond recollection from the back of Batman's mind, from when Damian first met Dick and challenged him.
Nightwing continued. "But he didn't do it. He didn't really need to, but it would've made the mission go by a lot faster if he took the path of least resistance. Instead, he just incapacitated people. He peacefully disarmed as many as he could if they were convinced to surrender."
Basic communication and negotiation skills were something that many aspiring vigilantes failed to cultivate, always so trigger-happy and violent to the extreme. Batman was glad that the Manticore seemed to at least have the bare minimum.
"The worst injuries he gave people were a concussion and broken bones," Nightwing added, "and even then, he got better at avoiding debilitating damage. By the end of it, I didn't have to worry anymore."
A pang of pride swelled within Batman's chest then. Either it was Nightwing's influence, or the Manticore's own predilections. Regardless, it was a good path to go down. A superpowered individual like Lucian who only dealt minimal injury to his opponents would send a clear message, and dissuade others from acting recklessly in an encounter.
That said, this sort of approach only worked with superhumans, or those with a reputation. Batman himself fit the latter category.
This reputation was built upon how he had acted in his early years. He was fresh in the life of a vigilante, and was the very same problematic type that he had just pondered on — always overeager to dole out 'justice' to those he believed deserved it. Needless to say, people were terrified at the time. He was satisfied with that for a while until he met a certain circus kid...
He had been mellowing out since then, all across several 'generations' of companions. A series of events lead to where things were now, and he started to find himself more of a shadow in the night than a creature that hunted in it. Like the silent whisper that made evil hesitate, rather than the thing that went bump in the night and made people bleed.
His methods weren't perfect, but they worked. They had even improved, if he could allow himself to be so bold.
It had gone to the point where more and more people started believing that he was just some urban legend, a paranormal presence, or some sort of boogeyman made up by higher powers as a deterrent. This didn't extend to the deeper parts of the underworld, as well as the circles of supervillains within Gotham, but it was how things were going.
"B?" Nightwing's voice brought Batman back to the present. "You were wearing your thinking face again," he pointed out.
Batman reeled himself back in. "There's a lot to think about," he said.
But there would always be time to reflect later. His mind did at least register Nightwing's musings: it was quite likely that Aleck Donovan would go on high alert soon, when news of several operations being shut down finally reached him.
To keep him from going completely dark and cutting off his losses, Batman deliberately had information on any of the Donovan family's involvement kept quiet. This would keep him paranoid while also buying time, and while Aleck scrambled for less intelligent measures, the invisible hand of justice would keep closing in from the shadows.
When Aleck inevitably decides to turtle up and arm himself in preparation for any coming confrontation, Batman would be ready, his family alongside him. With the Donovans' major support pillars having been taken down, the only thing to do was topple the entire thing over.
There were just a few more things to take care of before then... One of them was Sandra Donovan, Aleck's older sister. Batman and an associate would try to convince her to ally with them fully, and the toppling of the Donovans' little budding dynasty would begin.
The first domino of many.
◎ ◉ ◎
A gentle tune rang in Lucian's head. Penny was waking him up.
"Morning..." he grumbled, sitting up on the couch.
[ Morning indeed, ] Penny said pleasantly. [ How are you feeling? ]
"Sore," Lucian replied. It was the first time he'd felt like this since coming into this DC alternate universe. He shifted his gaze to the upper right part of his visual range — Penny's clock displayed that it was four in the early morning. With a great, big yawn, he produced a Blackwhip tendril to take a water bottle from a nearby plastic pack and bring it straight into his hand.
'What time did I sleep last night?' he asked while drinking.
[ 0100. Everything you did needed quite a bit of time combined, and then you had to eat five people's worth of meals. Luckily, three hours of sleep was... adequate. ]
Lucian finished gulping down the entire bottle. "And I just won't stay down," he joked. "Well, whatever. I know some food places should be open this early. It's fine as long as I don't strain myself, right?"
[ It is. It'd just be better if you rested for longer. ]
"No rest for the wicked," Lucian rebutted as he hopped up. "No more than the bare minimum, anyway."
He took another water bottle, one lying half-empty on the table. He must have never finished it last night. Using whatever remained in it to wet a small towel, he took off his shirt and started wiping down.
He had to be mindful not to use too much force. As he was now, it was like just ever-so-lightly running the cloth over his skin. If he pressed harder, the fabric would start getting torn apart...
Once he was done wiping down from his upper body to just his thighs, he started slipping into a new set of clothes. He chose some that he hadn't worn in at least a week. The boxer shorts that he'd spawned in with, a shirt he had been given by one of his coworkers in his first week, and some harem pants that he had gotten from a thrift shop not long after.
Besides the pants, they all felt tighter... it looks like Lucian's body had grown quite a bit. He patted his midsection and thighs just to make sure — and certainly, he hadn't accumulated body fat beyond what his body needed.
'Just invert the colors of what I'm wearing and I'd pass for a Fushiguro Toji cosplayer,' he thought.
He then put on some thin socks, as well as second-hand tennis shoes that were sold to him for cheap. On his way out to get his gullet filled, he sent Maxie a quick good-morning text message.
Lucian ended up visiting this small fast food place that he hadn't eaten at yet. They sold great burritos, and he even treated himself to a bowl of mac n' cheese. It was the little pleasures in life that made the moments count.
Though, now that he was eating, he finally had some time to really think.
'Last night was unexpected...'
Pensive, he took a spoonful of pasta and chewed slowly.
'Those poor girls,' he thought. 'Never imagined I'd get involved in something like that so soon... but I guess it's true what Serra said. The universe never just lets you go at your own pace.'
Lucian still planned to put his whole back into dealing with the apparent human traffickers, but he decided to leave half of the legwork up to the bats. He was absolutely certain that he would just get in the way of setting things up with his inexperience. For now, it would be more prudent to follow in their lead.
Add to that the fact that he had effectively been 'quarantined' to a safe environment for the past two years since his death. True, he's only been in Gotham for nearly three weeks, but he spent two years in the Academy before that. It was all to help him come to terms with his passing, and then building himself up once more from there.
There was some training and drama here and there, but... he was otherwise in a completely safe environment.
The worst offenses that anybody could commit there were things like violating academic integrity, or skipping essential classes like social conduct and basic physical enrichment.
Another bite, another thought. 'I'll need to take the time to digest this, so I won't think too hard. Still... when someone calls to tell me about an update, I'll come running.'
Lucian checked the time in the corner of his vision. Close to five in the morning. He had already paid for his meal when he got his food, so he left and jogged over to the gym near Inigo's to get a proper shower.
...
After meditating under cold water for around half an hour, Lucian emerged from the gym's lockers and met a familiar sight. A crowd of early gym-goers had formed around someone with a cellphone, livestreaming a news broadcast...
Like he had done before, he merged into the crowd to see what was going on.
"Just last night," said the female anchor, "Several criminal operations have been brought to light by a group of unidentified vigilantes, but rumors suggest — as always — that it had been the 'Batman' and others associated with him. It is yet unclear if the perpetrators all belong to the same organization, but investigations by Gotham police indicate that this is the case."
Some of the gymgoers commented that it had to be the Batman. Others dismissed the thought, typically those younger, while the older ones expressed no doubt at all.
The news went on to state the consistencies between the raided facilities: weapons manufacturing, drug labs, animal smuggling, and more.
Lucian recognized the factory that he had raided with Nightwing. Notably, one of the other spots that had been raided was a bit different from the other two. Not in the operations themselves, but in the aftermath. Numerous suspects had suffered gunshot wounds, though there were surprisingly no casualties.
'That was probably Red Hood,' thought Lucian. He then assumed that in this universe, he was cooperative with the bats, if not outright one of them. That might explain why Batman and Nightwing were a bit lax with Lucian owning an electrified sword despite common expectations.
He also noted that there were no mentions of the energy weapons or Venom... Gordon likely had those covered up to avoid major unrest among civilians.
Sure, Gotham was a hellhole for crime, but even those used to such an environment had their limits. Lucian was sure that covering up these sorts of things was routine for the commissioner, and was becoming something of a specialty if it hadn't already reached the point of mastery.
As the closing bit for the morning broadcast, the news reported on the freeing of seventy-six women in total, all having been held captive in those buildings for as long as three months. The few victims that allowed themselves to be interviewed revealed that there was a constant outflow of them as well. No less than a hundred women were estimated to have been given away or sold off so far.
Unlike the energy weapons and super drugs, no effort was made to cover up the facts of the incident.
Those watching expressed various degrees of relief and concern for the victims, and discomfort and contempt for those responsible.
As for Lucian, he felt that prickling heat on his back again. Even in his first life, he had stopped wondering why these things happened. He just accepted that some people were twisted or uncaring enough that these sorts of things could be done at all.
In the end, the only thing he cared about since that conclusion was that the perpetrators had to be dealt with. At the very least, he could take solace in the fact that he had brought a part of that group to justice with his own two hands.
Now... moving forward, he would be one of those dealing with the twisted and uncaring.
'Just you wait, Carrie,' he thought. 'Even if I never promised you anything, I'd already made a promise with myself.'
Putting those things out of his mind for now, Lucian decided to finally to go to work. It should help maintain his sanity for a good while. Even if his mind couldn't break, it would at least temper his patience.
He considered getting actual training in as well. Extreme running at the end of his patrols without using One for All and ki circulation. Lifting weights under similar conditions. Hell, if the Headmaster would allow it, he'd even have Penny run combat simulations for him as a 'perfected' form of shadow-fighting.
He couldn't just rely on his soulbound SI for all of his growth, after all.
As Lucian left the gym, he felt something hugging him pleasantly from behind. For the first time since the night prior, he felt like he could actually smile about something.
◎ ◉ ◎
Maxie stretched as she awoke, belatedly pulling her feet back as she felt them hit something. A hard object clattered to the floor, startling her to full consciousness. The steady beeping of a heart monitor droned in the background, and the sound of air conditioning hummed silently. It was then that she realized—
'Shit, right... I'm in the hospital right now...'
Rubbing the crust from her eyes, she looked down to her feet and saw Brodie there, slumped back in a recliner. Something orange entered her view — Bailey had been awake since much earlier, and had picked up her brother's crutches when they were knocked over.
"Good timing, Max," said Bailey. "You all here yet?"
Maxie nodded wordlessly, rubbing the grit out of her eyes as she sat up.
"I was just about to get ready for work," Bailey continued. "Brodes said he's staying with mom for the day, so we can go together if you want."
Maxie grabbed her phone to check the time—
'6 AM...'
It was a bit early, but also late. Too early for work — much too early — but also way too late to leave for school. Not that she planned to keep going with how life had been treating her.
"You've been missing more and more days at college lately," said Bailey.
Maxie didn't need to be told that... or maybe she did? "I know," she replied tiredly.
Bailey sighed. The reaction didn't irritate Maxie, like if any other person did. She knew her sister too well. She was sad, but that was that. There were no other thoughts or feelings behind it — no contempt, no anger, no nothing.
She liked that about her sister.
"Well, go get ready to leave if you wanna come with." Bailey was in the middle of tying her hair up into a crooked bun. "I gotta be on-site in two hours, so go round up your stuff."
Maxie silently moved to do as she'd been asked. She gathered up all of her things, which conveniently fit into the single eco-bag of stuff left to her name. She looked down at it hollowly, then to her mother lying in the hospital bed.
Her gaze drifted down to nothing in particular. Her mother's breathing was stable now. At least, it looked like that from the way her chest rose and fell, accompanied by the regular heartbeat indicated by the beeping monitor.
Maxie was a little glad, noticing that. It seemed like the smoke didn't cause her mother too much lung damage. The stab wounds didn't end up being that deep either, much to Adelaine's good fortune — if it could even be called that.
According to what the doctors and investigators told the Steeles, Connor had apparently used a tiny pocket knife when he attacked his wife. Still, with how thin Adelaine was, it would have been fatal if first responders hadn't gotten to her in time.
The Manticore arriving at the scene was the only reason she survived.
Maxie reminded herself to have Lucian pass on her thanks to the guy.
Returning to the present... she didn't feel particularly terrible at first, when the news were broken to her... seeing her mother laying in that hospital bed, however...
Adelaine looked too pale to really look alive at all. A good portion of her broken body had been covered in bandages, and it was quite likely that all of her injuries would scar terribly.
Maxie went and reached for her mother's singed, greying red hair and... ruffled it softly. The same way that Adelaine had done for her every night, whenever she was asleep or seemed to be sleeping. Whether it was on a slow, 'dry' day or a 'busy' one with her 'patrons,' she never failed to do so once Maxie had her eyes closed, lying on that chunky, springy couch.
Adelaine's expression seemed to ease at the touch, though Maxie didn't notice. After a few moments of that, she looked away and tried very hard to come up with a distraction from the sting building just underneath her eyes.
"Bails...?" she called her sister tentatively.
In the middle of pulling on a thick sweater, Bailey's muffled response came. "Yeah?"
"What if I just... I dunno. Just worked?"
Silence.
"... if you really want to. Just promise me a couple things, Max..."
"Yeah...?"
"Don't let anything ever get you down for good. And no matter what you do, never half-ass anything. Ever."
Bringing her gaze down to the eco-bag in her hands, Maxie supplied a small nod, and an even smaller affirming grunt. Now that she only had to wait for Bailey to finish changing behind a divider, she turned to her phone to maybe find another distraction.
She hadn't checked her notifications yet, so she felt a swell of emotion seeing Lucian greeting her good morning. She wasn't quite used to receiving that sort of thing, not even from family...
"What do I say...?" she muttered under her breath.
Thinning her lips, she typed out a reply...
M: 'hey luce, good morning'
M: 'and thanks for cheking in... i guess im managing alright'
She thought that Lucian was likely making deliveries when she replied, that workaholic dork, so she went to put her phone down... then it rang and buzzed in her hand.
L: 'Hey, morning again!'
L: 'Just finished a batch of derbylerbies, so I'm taking a bit of a snack break before heading back.'
The corners of Maxie's lips curled up a little. Lucian had this little quirk, where he would occasionally commit acts of spoonerism. Beyond that, he also intentionally butchered his words, or used homophones whenever possible. It annoyed her at first, but didn't call it out. As she texted with him more though, she started looking forward to it. Figuring out this guy's weird texting language was kind of fun.
M: 'where u at rn?'
L: 'Somewhere near Guardsmen. Why?'
M: 'that's near our hospital'
M: 'can you give me a ride to the restaurant?'
L: 'Sure thing. West Mercy, right?'
M: 'yeah thanks'
M: 'wait for me in the lot to the side'
Psyching herself up, Maxie went to tell Bailey that she was going to go on ahead. She had to explain that Lucian happened to be nearby and was gonna give her a lift to the gym so she can get ready for work herself, and ended up getting teased for it.
She was on her way right after though, so in the end, she managed to start working around eight in the morning.
She decided to follow Lucian's example and get a lot of overtime.
'Fuck uni, honestly... I'll just come back later when life isn't so shit.'
◎ ◉ ◎
In a different part of Gotham away from the dense concrete jungles, a silver luxury sedan drove down the comparatively idyllic suburban roads. Its windows were heavily-tinted, obscuring the four figures inside, and it drove around at a casual stroll.
There were two men in the front seats. They wore black suits, but neither had shades like most might imagine. One of them drove, obviously, and both were armed to the teeth under their well-pressed uniforms. Handguns, knives, tasers, stun grenades, batons — so much had been fit under their attire that only their inherent bulk kept the miniature arsenals from showing conspicuously.
In the back, meanwhile, sat two others. Pale skin against tanned olive. Pastel-pink hair against dark brown. The former's fluffy head leaned against the latter's shoulder.
Aleck Donovan had an arm wrapped around Tamara Watson's slender waist as she reclined against him. He would occasionally kiss her hair while ruffling it. Such an action would have been completely innocuous had it not been for one thing: whenever Aleck's fingers traced Miss Watson's scalp, the girl would feel the slightest tingling sensation in her skull. This would cause her eyes to go unfocused and roll around, and her body would shudder as well.
Peering down at the purple-and-pink phone in his favorite pet's hands, Aleck joined in watching the... odd animated porn playing on the screen, entirely out of boredom.
'What an odd fetish,' he thought to himself. 'Maybe I should get the R&D department to initiate a small side-project?'
In Aleck's mind, making such a toy for Miss Watson — one similar to the tentacles on screen — shouldn't be too difficult considering their achievements.
As he let his mind wander, the car eventually came to a stop before a familiar front lawn.
"We're here, sir," said one of the security escorts.
Aleck gestured with his chin, and the one in shotgun exited the vehicle. He circled around the car and opened the left door for Aleck, who then in turn opened the opposite door for Miss Watson.
"Thanks for driving me home," said Tammy in a small, raspy voice.
"As always." Aleck took her hand, helping her rise out of the vehicle. Once she was upright, he shook his head and chuckled. "Besides, it's only natural. Now, I'll see you to the door."
Hand in hand, Tammy swung Aleck's own as they walked towards the house.
Ding-dong...! went the doorbell.
Hurriedly, heavy footsteps came up to the front door, and large, heavy hands opened it for them.
"Oh, you're finally home!" exclaimed Joseph. He took his daughter into a bear hug, which she reciprocated weakly. "Come on now, baby. Get inside," he told Tammy. "You need your rest."
Sensing her reluctance, Aleck encouraged her. "Go on, Tammy. You really do need it."
Finally relenting, she nodded and left her father's embrace to retire upstairs.
Sighing, Joseph fixed Aleck a tired grin while extending his right hand. "I hope my daughter wasn't too much on you..."
"I assure you, sir, I can handle her just fine," Aleck responded with a wry smile. He took Joseph's hand and shook it, adding, "She is proactive and needy, I won't deny, but that's what's so charming about her."
Joseph chuckled, relieved, understanding very well what Aleck meant. He also felt some reluctance to let go of Aleck's hand, consequentially prolonging the contact. Luckily, he did summon the willpower to let go in the end. "Don't you get tired, though? I mean, Tammy wants to spend as much time with you as she can, but surely you also have a lot of responsibility with your position in your family?"
Aleck huffed an amused breath. "No, not at all, Mr. Watson. I've plenty of energy to spare, and I'll always give as much as I can for your daughter. We're both just doing our best."
Joseph sighed, both relieved and exhausted. "If you insist. Anyway, thanks for driving Tammy home every time. I'll go tend to my baby girl now. You be careful out there."
After Aleck had been waved off, he waited for the door to close before him. He then turned around, his polite smile disappearing. Well, rather, his smile lost its politeness. Replacing it was that relaxed upward quirk of his lips, which was always present when he went into a scheming mood.
"Now... I need to prepare for that meeting with Mr. Walker..." he mumbled.
Lifting his left arm, he pressed a hidden button in his wristwatch. A needle jabbed into his wrist's vein, causing luminescent blue lines to briefly pop up beneath the skin. Now fully energized, he hopped back into his car.
'Killer Moth... his expertise and experience in dealing with the bat should serve us well, on top of his primary purpose...'