Rain splattered across the rooftops like machine gun fire as Deadshot tapped the side of his mask and peered down the scope.
"Aw, don't pout, Bats," he muttered, tone playful, a grin tugging beneath his visor. "I was aiming for the mobster."
He chambered another round with a satisfying click.
"But hey jumping in front of the bullet just makes this more fun."
Across the way, the dark silhouette of the Batman vanished from the shattered remnants of Falcone's office window, trailing smoke and wind. Deadshot's rifle barked, rounds ripping through glass and brick but the Bat was already gone.
Batman landed hard on a maintenance balcony two buildings over. His ribs screamed, and the armor over his shoulder was cracked from the earlier shot. He ignored it. The rain cloaked his steps as he sprinted toward the access stairwell, grapnel gun holstered, eyes narrowed behind the white glow of his cowl.
"Alfred," he grunted.
"Yes, Master Wayne?"
"Make the call. GPD can pick up Falcone's body. And prep a containment unit."
"For Deadshot?"
"Yeah. He's about to be out cold."
Batman climbed the last flight of stairs and stopped outside the rooftop door. Silence.
He moved in.
Deadshot leaned against the rooftop generator, pistols drawn, back to the wall.
"Come on, big guy," he muttered. "Let's see that legendary stealth. You know, for a guy who dresses like a bat, you sure make a lotta noise."
Behind him, a ventilation panel popped free with a barely audible click.
Batman dropped from the ceiling like a guillotine. His boots slammed into Deadshot's back, knocking him forward into the side of the generator with a clang of metal and bone.
Deadshot twisted mid-fall, pistols firing.
Batman's batarang whirled through the air and knocked one pistol clean out of his grip.
Deadshot laughed as Batman advanced.
"I gotta say, Bats… I've fought mutants, Inhumans, even Spider-Man once. But you? You take brooding to a whole new level."
Batman hit him with an explosive hook to the jaw.
"Keep talking," he growled. "I need the warm-up."
Deadshot reeled but dropped low, sweeping Batman's legs. They both crashed to the floor. A knife appeared in Deadshot's hand. He slashed fast.
Batman caught the wrist mid-swing, twisted hard then snap and then he jabbed a stun charge into Deadshot's chest. The current lit his body like a live wire.
Deadshot convulsed, gasping.
Batman leaned in, voice ice-cold. "Black Mask. Klaw. Where's the stockpile?"
Through gritted teeth, Deadshot chuckled. "I'd tell you… but I really like watching you chase your tail."
Batman sighed. "I don't have time for C-listers with a scope fetish."
Then he slammed Deadshot's head into the concrete. Once. Hard.
Silence.
Back at the Batcave, the monitor flickered as Batman patched in. "He's down. Notify the police."
Alfred's voice came calm but weary. "Got it, Master Bruce. Are you going after Klaw now?"
"Yeah," Batman replied. He turned from the screen, cape flicking behind him. "But first I need to talk to someone."
"Who?" Alfred asked.
Batman looked back, expression unreadable. "An old friend."
The bell above the gym door jingled. Inside, dust motes hung in the low light like memories. An older man swept near the ring, his motions slow, practiced. He paused.
"You know I taught you how to hide in the dark, Bruce," he said, without turning.
Batman stepped from the shadows. "It's good to see you, Ted."
Ted Grant used to be known as Wildcat turned, smiling faintly. His eyes studied Bruce's bruised face.
"Still wearing the pain like armor, huh? What brings you?"
Batman's expression darkened. "What do you know about Klaw?"
Ted dropped onto a bench with a sigh. "New arms dealer. Operates outta South Side. Been pushing high-tech weapons through Black Mask's network."
Batman nodded.
"I keep my ear on the streets," Ted added with a smirk. "One of my old contacts gave me his base location. Old metalworks off 87th."
"Thanks, Ted."
"Stay safe, kid. Don't let the darkness eat you."
Batman gave a short nod and vanished.
The abandoned metalworks on 87th was a fortress of rusted steel and sharp corners. Batman entered through the roof, avoiding patrols. Inside, flickering lights illuminated rows of crates inside was weapons tech, Wakandan and otherwise.
In the center, Victor Zsasz pale, scarred stood with Klaw, the arms dealer. Klaw's right arm was a grotesque sonic cannon, gleaming with alien energy.
"We have enough now," Klaw said. "Enough to supply an army."
Zsasz chuckled, twirling a knife. "Black Mask will be pleased. So many bodies…"
Suddenly, the power went out.
Darkness fell like a curtain.
A hum. A blur.
The lights returned and he was there.
A man in sleek black armor, shaped like a feline. A necklace of claws around his throat. The Black Panther.
Zsasz screamed and opened fire.
The bullets sparked off vibranium.
The Panther moved.
He struck Zsasz with a spinning kick and it was lightning-fast sending the killer crashing into a crate.
Batman watched from the shadows as the Panther turned on Klaw.
Klaw fired the sonic cannon. The warehouse trembled, crates shattering, glass exploding.
Panther leapt, claws gleaming.
He landed on Klaw, driving him through a table. They tumbled across the floor, exchanging blows with Klaw firing and the Panther weaving.
Klaw unleashed a blast and Panther dodged, countered with a clawed uppercut, then rolled over his back, locked an armbar, and yanked the sonic cannon offline.
Sparks flew.
Klaw roared and elbowed free but Panther wasn't done. He drove his knee into Klaw's ribs, cracked the man's jaw with a reverse strike, then pounced mounting Klaw and raising his claws.
"This is for my father," he snarled.
The claws descended.
A snap echoed.
But they never reached Klaw.
A rope wrapped around the Panther's shoulder and yanked him backward, off his prey.
The Panther landed in a crouch, growling.
Batman stood between them, cape billowing.
"Who are you," Batman asked, voice low, "and what are you doing in my city?"
The man rose to his full height. "I am the Black Panther. I am here to avenge my father by killing that man."
He pointed at Klaw.
Batman's eyes narrowed. "No one's dying tonight."
Behind them, Klaw stirred wheezing, bloodied.
"You don't get to—" he started.
Batman turned and stomped on his head, knocking him out cold.
Silence.
The two warriors faced each other.
Panther's stance shifted smooth, aggressive. "I won't be stopped."
Batman's fists clenched. "I won't let you become a killer."
The air between them tightened like wire.