Once Adam mentioned Shiva, the Bronze Tiger's demeanor shifted instantly—what had once been guarded tension softened into open camaraderie. He, once wary and distant, now welcomed Adam with warmth. Over tea and quiet conversation, Adam carefully teased out the details he'd come to uncover.
As it turned out, Shiva had indeed spent time within the League of Assassins, just as historical records had suggested. But contrary to expectations, her relationship with Ra's al Ghul and the others had been rocky at best. Around this same period, the Bronze Tiger—long thought lost to the League's brainwashing—suddenly regained clarity. No one understood how or why, not even him. But that brief moment of lucidity had been enough to make his escape.
He fled into the wilderness, away from the League's reach. But in his wounded and disoriented state, he collapsed during his journey and was captured by mountain folk, who mistook him for a dangerous outsider. He was forced to fight in their crude coliseum—a tragic fall for a martial artist of his caliber.
There was no hard proof that Shiva had helped him escape, yet he was convinced it was her doing. He spoke of her with reverence, gratitude, and brotherly pride. And because Adam—thanks to future knowledge—was able to offer small, personal details about her, he became increasingly convinced that Adam had once stood close beside his sister.
But beneath the warm conversation, Adam's thoughts churned with concern.
History was diverging.
In the timeline he remembered, the Bronze Tiger was supposed to be captured by the U.S. government and coerced into joining the Suicide Squad under the guise of "atonement." During his time in the League, Shiva who was deceived in pursuit of ultimate martial perfection—had birthed a daughter with one of her enemies. That daughter, Cassandra Cain, would go on to become the third Batgirl and the finest hand-to-hand combatant of her generation.
But now, Bronze Tiger had escaped on his own. There was no sign of a forced enlistment. And Shiva —based on Tonghu's words—had not yet reconciled with her enemies. Adam had the sinking realization that his presence had disrupted the story's natural flow. And for someone relying on established canon to survive… that wasn't good.
Still, he masked his anxiety behind casual banter.
"You know, hiding up here isn't really a solution," Adam said lightly, pouring another cup of tea. "The League excels at sniffing out remote backwaters. You might as well be hiding in a shell and calling it a fortress."
Bronze Tiger looked out the window, expression grim. "Then where should I go? The world's wide—but where can I truly be safe?"
Adam could see the trauma behind the words. For someone who'd spent so long under the League's control, the instinct to flee had taken deeper root than the will to resist.
And yet, Adam knew there was one place—just one—where even the League had failed.
"There is a place," Adam said, his tone dropping into something conspiratorial. If the Deadshot had been nearby, he would have immediately recognized the look on Adam's face—the one that always came before a reckless, half-true plan. "It's the only place that ever forced Ra's al Ghul to back off. Gotham."
Bronze Tiger frowned and said mockingly, "Gotham? Are you serious? That chaotic cesspool?"
"I'm dead serious." Adam leaned in. "Ra's once tried to cripple America's economy. His first target was Gotham. Back then it was a thriving commercial powerhouse. But Gotham pushed back."
Bronze Tiger tilted his head, skeptical.
"Falcone, Gotham's underworld kingpin, and Thomas Wayne, the city's wealthiest man, joined forces. They didn't just fight back with guns—they beat him with influence, money, and willpower. A bloodless war—and it was the first time Ra's walked away in defeat."
What Adam didn't say was that Ra's later wrote off Gotham entirely, believing the city would rot from the inside without his help. And maybe he wasn't wrong. But he underestimated one man—Batman, who bore the city on his back like a cursed torchbearer, holding up the last flicker of hope in the darkness.
To Adam's satisfaction, Bronze Tiger 's eyes lit up with cautious hope.
"If that city could resist him... maybe I can too," he muttered, half to himself.
"Then it's settled," Adam said. "I'll take you there."
The moment Bronze Tiger agreed, Adam sprang into action. He made sure the recovering fighter was well-supplied—calling in caretakers, organizing provisions, even managing medical needs. Bronze Tiger, moved by the attention, thanked him with an awkward sincerity rare for a man so feared.
Later that night, Adam met with Deadshot, who had a much less sentimental view of the situation.
"You told him you knew his sister?" Deadshot exclaimed. "Are you insane? If he finds out, you're gonna be eating through a straw, for the rest of your life!"
Adam shrugged sheepishly. "Technically, I do know of her. She just doesn't know me. Yet."
"You're playing with fire."
They rested another two days in the mountains while Bronze Tiger's strength returned. During that time, No. 1 had quietly left—Black Mask's orders. As far as the crime lord was concerned, Adam had fulfilled his purpose. Letting him hang around risked exposing the entire smuggling route.
Adam didn't care. He had his own goals now. With Bronze Tiger by his side, he was already planning the next steps.
Once Bronze Tiger was strong enough to move, they descended the mountain and regrouped with the soldiers who had originally escorted them. These mercenaries had been spending Adam's money freely in nearby towns, and weren't too thrilled to see the party return. Still, orders were orders.
With a local army rotation underway, they joined up with a southbound convoy. The group loaded into battered military trucks, setting off across rough terrain.
The journey was quiet. Fatigue pulled at everyone, and some began to nod off in the lurching rhythm of the road.
Then, without warning—
BOOM.
A thunderous explosion split the air as the lead truck was engulfed in flames. The ground trembled violently, smoke and fire erupting like a volcanic vent. Metal shrapnel rained down, and the air filled with screams.
Deadshot leapt to his feet, instincts firing on high alert, shouting, "XM93 wide-area mine! Everyone, OUT OF THE VEHICLE—NOW!"