On the other side
The solvent concocted from all those chemicals—enough to kill any plant was dropped.
Bruce transformed from the Man-Bat back into human form. He clutched his chest, frowning slightly.
These transformations… they're taking a toll on my body.
Then he saw the Plant Master—once so arrogant—now lying quietly on the ground, fast asleep, like a baby without a care in the world.
"It's over,"
he muttered.
Everyone was exhausted. They gathered around the unconscious Poison Ivy. Harley, eyes filled with tears, was carefully bandaging her.
Despite Ivy showing no visible injuries—only unconscious—Harley was treating her as if she were bleeding out. But of course, Harley never cared about reasoning.
Deadshot and the Cheshire Cat stood off to the side, panting as they peeled off their solvent-soaked protective suits.
'Goddamn it, Batman! If you had this acid rain ready to go, why didn't you use it sooner?'
'We could've just rescued the professor and dumped the stuff afterward! Why go head-on like that—'
Deadshot grumbled under his breath. With anyone else, he'd be shouting curses by now. But this was Batman—so even his complaints came in mutters.
Then a cold realization struck him.
Wait
Is Batman the type to do foolish shit?
He scanned the surrounding swamp.
What or who exactly is the danger then?
He looked at the vegetation that had withered.
Two chemical assaults—first salt-based herbicide, then the final chemical downpour—had utterly annihilated the Green's hold here. Even an ironwood tree wouldn't survive that kind of onslaught.
Poison Ivy remained unconscious.
She'd took a direct heavy hit from the Plant Master and seemed to be in shock. Deadshot doubted she'd be waking up soon.
Everyone's eyes stayed on Ivy.
And right now, Bruce thought silently, the power of the Green is at its weakest.
He stepped forward—towards Ivy—but his gaze subtly swept across the others.
It should come at any moment now.
Deadshot and Cheshire Cat, still in the distance.
Dog Welder, seated, straightening his mangled limbs.
Count Vertigo, crouched beside Ivy, saying to Harley:
"If you want to wake her up, I suggest you—"
Could it be him? Bruce wondered. Vertigo?
No... There was another candidate.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted movement.
Lady Vic emerged from the woods—disheveled, weary, limping.
A dark bruise stained her pale thigh like a discarded bottle in January snow. Her sapphire eyes shimmered with fatigue, framed by her platinum-blonde hair and trademark eyepatch.
She looked every bit the disillusioned mercenary regretting her career choices.
She spotted the fallen Plant Master, gasped, and jogged over.
"Well, you've got this!" she chirped.
She paused beside him, then lashed out with her foot, kicking the body.
"You filthy, green, stinking piece of life-force garbage—"
Another kick.
Bruce watched her silently, unmoved.
Everyone else remained fixated on Harley's wails.
Except Deadshot—his eyes on Ivy, but his hand quietly drifting to his weapon.
"Hateful! Disgusting! Green! You make me sick!"
Kick. Kick. Kick.
Then—
Gurgle.
Her eye suddenly popped loose—dangling by grotesquely stretched veins like a spiderweb barely holding it in.
Half her face melted like wax, revealing rotten, red muscle and sinew underneath.
Her foot twisted grotesquely, morphing into a sharp insect like limb
When she screamed next, the voice no longer belonged to a woman.
It was shrill, layered, hysterical—an owl's screech drowned in hatred and madness:
"I really want to—"
"Kill you!!!"
No one reacted fast enough.
Fangs as thick as goat horns erupted from her mouth. Human skin tore like paper, revealing the monster beneath.
She lunged at the helpless Plant Master—
SIZZLE!
Suddenly a massive bolt of electricity struck her mid-leap, sending her stumbling back.
"Wh-what?! You—"
WHOOSH!
Mr. Freeze's frost cannon blasted across her body, encasing half of her in ice.
Then—BOOM!
A white phosphorus round ignited the other half, flames dancing up her writhing form.
The creature screamed, rolling across the scorched earth.
"Impossible! How—how did you—?!"
"Didn't anyone tell you," a calm voice cut through the chaos, "never take Batman's batarang? Not even joker is mad enough to hold it personally."
Through the haze of fire and ice, the monster stared with hollow, undead eyes at the other monster—Batman.
"If you can't even catch a dart thrown by me, why would you ever trust the weapons I gave you?"
Deadshot nearly dropped his gear.
Every weapon on him now felt like a live bomb.
He suddenly understood why Batman had insisted everyone be heavily armed—even Dog Welder and Count Vertigo had been forced to carry grenades and charges.
It had all been deliberate.
Planted.
You bastard... you planned this from the start!
Teammates? You call this teamwork?
You installed self-destructs in our weapons?!
Batman, expression flat, casually took inventory:
"Let's see… surge gun."
"Freeze grenades. Flamethrower pistol…"
"Ah—and an ultrasonic rocket launcher."
He snapped his fingers.
BOOM!
The rocket launcher on the monster's body detonated, followed by a piercing ultrasonic wave that shattered half its skull.
"Stupid creature. Ever wonder why those weapons felt so heavy?"
"You didn't notice a thing. Just like now… You didn't even realize…"
Batman's voice dropped into a whisper.
"There was a mustard seed under your foot."
And that's when Poison Ivy opened her eyes.
(Note: To clear some confusion. Bruce didn't suspect the rot from the beginning.
He messed with the weapons because except for Dog Welder the others were all villains. But even the Dog welder hurt innocents even when he didn't want to.
He did this just as a precaution. What if one of the mercenaries decides, "Fuck this. Let's hunt the Batman" And points one of the weapons at him.
He suspected the rot after he learned that the swamp thing was dead.
The swamp thing is nigh immortal with the memories of alec holland. Few have the power to kill him and even fewer among them have the intent to.)