Chapter 83: The Masquerade
Flashback
The rooftop wind whipped through Wonder Woman's dark hair as the Batwing's engines hummed to life. She stood still with one hand gripping Firefly's bound shoulder firmly, watching as Batman climbed into the cockpit without looking back.
Diana watched as the Batwing lifted off, its sleek form rising into the sky.
The aircraft's stealth systems engaged gradually and the the solid shape became translucent, then ghostly, then finally disappeared entirely into the darkness. Only the faint distortion of starlight betrayed its passage overhead.
"Well, that was touching," Firefly said sarcastically, "Think he'll actually grow a spine and start killing people now? Because honestly, I'm getting tired of this catch-and-release program."
Wonder Woman's grip tightened on his shoulders, fingers digging in just enough to make him wince.
"I am the same," she said quietly.
Something in her tone made Firefly pause. There was an edge to it that didn't quite match the Amazon princess's usual righteous anger.
But Firefly wasn't the type to notice details that didn't burn.
Afterall, violent as she is, she is still a hero. And heroes don't kill. They might beat you up, but they don't kill.
"You know," Firefly continued, warming to his subject, "I've been thinking about what happened to Batman. That look on his face when he thought his little bird was dead? That was beautiful."
He laughed, "I've seen that look before. On every parent's face when I torch their kids. It never gets old."
Wonder Woman said nothing, her hand still steady on his shoulder.
Firefly's voice took on a dreamy quality, "That's what I love about fire. It doesn't discriminate. Rich, poor, young, old—everyone screams the same way when they burn."
"Come," Wonder Woman said, pulling him toward the rooftop access door. "We have a long journey ahead."
They descended through the stairwell in silence. Firefly stumbled occasionally on the steps, his balance compromised by the restraints, but she kept him upright effortlessly.
They descended through the abandoned building, floor by floor, passing through empty hallways that still smelled of blood and death from Architect's earlier rampage.
"You're awfully quiet, Princess," Firefly observed as they descended. "Usually you types love to lecture. 'There's still good in everyone,' 'justice not vengeance,' all that naive garbage." He snorted. "But you know what? I think Batman's finally learning the truth. Some people can't be saved. Some people just need to burn."
They reached the third floor landing. Wonder Woman pushed through the access door, and that's when Firefly started to notice something was very, very wrong.
Blood.
It was everywhere.
The walls were sprayed with it in patterns. Drag marks smeared across the floors.
Some place had body parts—arms, legs, chunks of torso—littered around like discarded trash. The metallic stench of death hung so thick in the air it was almost tangible.
Firefly's words died in his throat.
He hadn't noticed any of this when Batman dragged him to the roof. The path they'd taken had been clean — nothing like this slaughterhouse.
"What the hell happened here?" he whispered, his earlier bravado evaporating like water on hot steel.
Wonder Woman said nothing, merely guided him forward.
They passed an open cell. Inside, three inmates had been fused together into a single writhing mass of flesh, still alive, still conscious, their mouths opening and closing in silent agony. Their eyes tracked Firefly as he passed, pleading wordlessly for death.
"Jesus Christ," Firefly breathed.
Wonder Woman's grip tightened, pulling him forward inexorably.
"Wait—stop—didn't you see that fucking thing?" Firefly tried to dig in his heels, but it was like trying to stop a train with his bare hands. "That thing's still breathing! What the hell's wrong with you—Kill it! Burn it! Do something!"
His feet wanted to stop, to refuse to move forward, but Wonder Woman's grip was iron. She pulled him along like a parent dragging a reluctant child through a nightmare.
They turned a corner and Firefly nearly stepped on a severed head. He jerked back instinctively, but Wonder Woman's hand kept him from falling.
The head belonged to a guard captain Firefly knew well. They'd done countless crooked deals together — pay him the right price and he'd smuggle anyone out of custody, even a child predator's not off limits.
The man's face was frozen in a silent scream with his eyes bulging and mouth stretched impossibly wide. Whatever had killed him had done it slowly enough for terror to etch itself into his final expression.
"The Architect did all this?" Firefly asked, genuine fear seeping into his voice now that he witnessed what had happened.
"While I was unconscious? How long was I out?"
"Long enough," Wonder Woman said.
They descended another flight of stairs. The walls here were worse—not just blood, but claw marks gouged deep into concrete. Something large and powerful had rampaged through this corridor, tearing apart everything in its path.
A guard's body was embedded in the wall at chest height. The impact drove him so far into the concrete that only his legs and lower torso were visible, dangling like some kind of grotesque art installation.
"Where are we going?" Firefly asked, his voice higher now. All the tension was making it crack. "I thought you Amazons could fly. Can't we just head up instead of down? Away from... this?"
"Soon," Wonder Woman said.
They passed the cafeteria. Through the shattered doors, Firefly could see tables overturned, chairs broken, and bodies—so many bodies. Some were torn apart. Others looked like they'd been cocooned in some kind of biological webbing.
Firefly's earlier confidence was completely gone now, replaced by horror.
Architect meant business. Serious business. Luckly Batman caught him. Pussy as he might be, he is still useful.
They turned a corner into a longer corridor. This one showed signs of water damage—dark stains on the ceiling, puddles collecting in the uneven floor. At the far end was a heavy steel door marked "MAINTENANCE ACCESS - AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY."
Firefly finally reacted.
Thinking back about everything, that calmness of wonderwoman was wrong. Heroes didn't stay this composed around mass murder. They get angry, horrified, determined—something. They didn't just... walk through it like it was nothing. She didnt even kill that fucking three headed thing.
"No," Firefly said, trying to pull back now, really fighting her grip. "No, I'm not going in there. You can't make me—"
Wonder Woman's hand moved from his shoulder to the back of his neck. One squeeze, perfectly placed, and Firefly's legs went numb.
She dragged him forward with his feet trailing uselessly behind him.
"Stop! This isn't right! You're a hero! You don't—you can't—Batman trusted you!" Desperation made his voice shrill. "He's going to come back! He's going to check on me! When he realizes I'm not where you said I'd be—"
"Batman won't be coming back," Wonder Woman said calmly, pulling open the steel door with her free hand.
Beyond was a small room, maybe twelve feet square. Concrete floor and walls. A single drain in the center. No windows. A bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.
It looked like an interrogation room. Or a cell. Or a slaughterhouse.
Wonder Woman shoved him into the room. He collapsed on the concrete floor. His nerve function slowly returned to his legs.
The door swung shut behind them with a hollow boom.
"Now now Firefly," Wonder Woman said, and her voice was changing now—deepening, the feminine tones bleeding into something else, "time for your judgement."
Firefly's breath caught. He stared up at her, watching in horror as the transformation began.
Diana's features rippled like disturbed water. Bone structure shifted. Skin tone darkened. Muscle mass redistributed. The iconic armor dissolved into dark tactical gear. Within seconds, Wonder Woman had disappeared entirely.
In her place stood a tall figure in black, a hoodie covering the upper half of his face, lips curved into a cold smile.
The Architect.
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Advanced chapters on patre*n
DC : Architect of Vengeance
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