The Watchtower, Low Earth Orbit:
The fortress hung in orbit above the planet, its steel and light circling the globe like a silent observer. Inside its sterile corridors, Damian Wayne lay in a med-bay, machines pulsing faintly as medics worked over him.
Beyond the doors, Supergirl stood at the viewing deck, eyes fixed on the curve of the Earth below. She sensed movement behind her and turned. "Cyborg?"
Victor Stone stepped into the light, part man, rest alien machine. The glowing circuitry along his frame pulsed with a steady rhythm, only half of his face still recognizably human.
"They're all here," he said, his voice clipped, before turning and heading back down the hall. Kara clenched her jaw and followed.
The main chamber was a vast hall lined with steel and glass, a single massive window looking down on the world. At its center, voices clashed.
Superman stood near the viewport, hands clasped behind his back, the cape falling still down his shoulders. Facing hid back was Wonder Woman, armored in gold and blue, her voice edged with frustration.
"How long, Superman? How long before you stop pretending she has no weaknesses? You keep shielding her, and it's clouding your judgment. Either she learns what's required of her, or you deal with it."
Superman didn't turn. His light-blue eyes stayed on the planet below; his silence was as heavy as her words.
On the far side of the room, Sinestro watched quietly, arms folded across the yellow glow of his suit. His crimson skin caught the light, the thin curl of his mustache making his expression unreadable.
The silence dragged until Wonder Woman let out a sharp sigh, as her jaw tightened.
The doors parted as Cyborg returned, Kara walking beside him. For a heartbeat, her gaze locked with Diana's, a flash of disdain crossing her eyes before vanishing. She shifted her attention to the man at the window.
"Did you call off the troops from Brazil?" Superman asked, voice calm but edged with something harder.
"I did," Kara answered without hesitation.
"And why?" he pressed, still not turning. The faint irritation in his tone drew the attention of both Diana and Cyborg.
"The criminals we were after, were either dead or already in custody. There was no point continuing the mess," Kara replied evenly.
Diana stepped forward. "And what do you think will happen now? That they'll simply return to normal lives, free of crime? Our work isn't just stopping criminals; it's preventing anyone else from becoming one."
Superman finally turned, his gaze steady on Kara. "And those three you left behind? You could have taken them."
Kara met his eyes without flinching, "There was another. I felt something close to magic from him. He didn't seem weak either. It wasn't worth the risk."
Cyborg interjected, "She's not wrong. He'd destroyed one of my drones before I could get a proper scan. He didn't match any Insurgency profiles either."
Superman stayed silent for a long moment. Then, slowly, he turned his head. "Sinestro."
The Yellow Lantern inclined his head, acknowledging the orders that were already discussed. Without a word, he strode from the chamber.
"I want to speak with Kara alone," Superman said at last.
Cyborg nodded and stepped out, catching up with Sinestro in the corridor. Wonder Woman lingered, her fists tight at her sides, but when Superman's gaze fixed on her, she relented.
With a sharp exhale, she followed the others out, leaving the chamber heavy with silence.
Both cousins stood in silence, their eyes locked. Kara didn't look away, and she didn't falter. There was no fear in her posture, no hesitation in her stare. Kal searched for it anyway, but found nothing.
When he finally spoke, his tone was softer than she's expected. "Kara… what do you think of all this? No-" his voice dipped, "what do you think of me?"
For the first time in years, she saw something different in his eyes; a flicker of warmth breaking through the iron. Her lips parted, words rising in her throat, something she had wanted to say since she'd first arrived.
But the images came back too quickly. The executions. The screaming streets. The chaos that had stretched from one continent to the next under the banner of the Regime.
Whatever she might have said was swallowed down.
"When I first came here," she began carefully, her voice low, "and trained with Diana, I'd seen the pain in your eyes. I thought I saw a genuine desire to change the world."
Her gaze lingered on him. The hollows beneath his eyes, the lines carved deep into his face, the look of a man who hadn't truly slept in years. Something close to pity touched her expression.
Kal turned his eyes to the floor, his voice weighted. "I had hoped you, of all people, would be at my side." The sadness in his tone almost masked the edge beneath it.
"I have been," Kara answered. "From the beginning, I believed there was a chance your cause could work. But this-" she lifted a hand toward the world below them, the planet scarred and restless under his rule, "this is nothing but suppression, execution and fear."
Her words sharpened, "even Krypton would have recoiled from the tyranny you now call law."
His reply came back just as sharp, "and where did Krypton's hesitation take it?"
Her jaw tightened as she shook her head, "when will this madness end, Clark-"
"Do not call me by that name!" he snapped, his eyes flaring red, heat shimmering faintly in the air between them.
Kara didn't move. Her shoulders didn't flinch. She only looked at him, and the pity in her eyes said more than words could.
She drew in a breath, letting it out slowly, 'I'm still at your side, cousin. I always have been. But I can't ignore that you've long since forgotten what you began this for.' She didn't say it aloud. The silence said enough.
That silence burned more than any argument. Kal could feel the words she hadn't spoken cutting into him, sharper than Diana's accusations. He clenched his fists at his sides, nails digging until blood welled at his palms.
His anger threatened to spill, but even through the haze, one fear remained; that in his rage, he might do or say something he could never take back to the only family he had left.
Kara shook her head, turned, and walked out of the chamber without another word. Superman remained where he was, staring at the empty space she had left behind.
His cape was still, his breath uneven, his fists clenched so tightly the blood on his palms dripped to the floor. The world below glowed through the window, but he didn't see it. His senses dulled everything else away as the storm inside him swallowed the rest.
Somewhere in North America:
The aircraft touched down in a secluded clearing surrounded by hills and dense forest. Engines powered down, the metal ramp lowered, and the passengers disembarked into the open air.
Harley skipped down first, arms swinging like she was arriving at a carnival. Huntress followed in measured steps, while Batwoman leaned heavily on two medics who guided her forward. Satoru was the last to step out, stretching his arms back with a lazy sigh.
'Finally. Fresh air.' He rolled his shoulders, taking in the trees and the quiet. "Humm… Where even is this?" he muttered.
Harley spun on her heel to face him. "A super-secret place, that's where. Bats isn't gonna be thrilled I dragged you here, by the way."
She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes playfully. "Hey, Satoru, you're not some sneaky spy, are you?" Something she should have asked before taking him to their secret location.
"Who knows." He shrugged. "Maybe Superman himself sent me." A chuckle slipped out.
Harley flinched like he'd said a curse word. "Heh, don't even joke about that. Especially not in front of Bats." She shook her head, motioning him along toward what looked like a simple cabin nestled between the trees; an entrance to their base underneath.
"Batman," Satoru said, catching her earlier phrasing. "He's your leader, right?"
"Yeah, basically. Orders everyone around, then pretends he isn't a leader." She shrugged.
Satoru smirked, "sounds like an awkward guy."
"Pfft, don't even start. Shh- he's right there." She pointed ahead.
And there he was. A tall figure stood at the cabin entrance, cape pooling in the dirt, matte-black bat emblem across his chest. Even with the cowl hiding most of his face, frustration radiated off him.
His arms were crossed, body still as stone, gaze sharp enough to pin the whole group in place. Batwoman and Huntress offered curt nods and passed quickly into the cabin.
Harley tried to slink past, but his stare caught her, and she gave a crooked smile that looked more like cracked porcelain than charm.
Batman's voice broke the air, deep and graveled, "I thought I told you not to bring him here-" He cut off, eyes narrowing.
Satoru was standing close. Too close. Close enough that if either moved forward a fraction, their lips would have touched.
"Hummm…" Satoru hummed aloud, his eerie blue eyes scanning Batman like a book he was about to read.
The Dark Knight didn't flinch, but his jaw tightened. He didn't like being studied.
Satoru leaned back just as quietly as he'd closed the distance, chuckling. "I thought you were a vampire or something. Turns out you're just a guy in a bat costume." His tone wasn't mocking, more curious and amused than anything else.
Behind them, Harley clamped a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. The sound still slipped out in muffled bursts. Batman grumbled low in his throat, and Harley snapped upright, breaking into a performance.
"Ahem, cough- how rude, Mr. Gojo! That's The Batman, the legendary leader of the Insurgency! You show some respect- Pfffttt, hahahaha." She burst into laughter halfway through, doubled over.
But then Batman spoke again, and his words wiped the grin from her face. "Satoru Gojo. You're not from this world, are you?"
The laughter stopped cold. Harley blinked at Satoru in confusion. Batman's voice was steady and fully sure of what he was saying. "Let me be clear. You're not from this dimension."
Satoru tilted his head, folding his arms. "And what makes you say that?"
"There's no record of you. No history. Nothing," Batman explained. "And your abilities- somewhat similar to magic, but unlike anything we've seen. There's only one conclusion." There was a trace of smugness in the precision of his reasoning.
'He's already worked out that much from what little scraps, I've shown,' Satoru thought, a smirk tugging at his mouth. 'I'm impressed. Really impressed.'
"Heh. Well, truth be told, I don't expect you to believe me, but I don't know how I got here. One moment I was in the middle of a mess in my own world, the next I was standing in Brazil, in the midst of all that chaos."
Batman's stare didn't waver. "And your reason for helping my team?"
Satoru shrugged. "I needed information. The other side didn't seem big on conversation."
For the first time, Batman deeply frowned. His gaze sharpened, trying to pierce through Satoru. But he didn't budge. A reaction to his gaze, that was very rare in this world.
Batman finally spoke. "…Fine." He turned slightly, directing his words at Harley. "Show him around. Fill him in on the basics. After that, he'll be escorted to a safe location if he wants it."
"Leave it to me!" Harley said brightly, throwing him a thumbs-up.
Batman looked back at Satoru. "And you; I have my eyes on you."
Satoru raised his hand, covering his chest, feigning a mock aversion, "Oh no, this guy's too scary…" He gave a teasing wink at the end.
Batman didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction. He just turned, leading them into the hidden base.
Satoru had a noticeable pout on his face, Harley was patting his back, "There, there, you tried your best…" She said as if she was consoling a child.
The base wasn't the grand underground fortress Satoru had imagined. No sprawling resistance bunker with armies drilling in secret. But what it lacked in size, it made up for in design.
A modernized bat cave, carved beneath the earth, brimming with sleek technology, living quarters, and a central command hub; all hidden beneath rock and shadow.
Harley led the way, her heels clacking against metal floors as she gestured down hallways. "So, yeah, this wing's kind of the guest area. Not like we get a lot of new recruits these days."
"Most of the folks here prefer to keep to themselves when they're not getting shot at." She pointed to a door at the far end.
Satoru glanced past her, his senses already sweeping through the space. There were others here; few relatively strong ones too. Nowhere close to Supergirl's level but passable in his opinion.
Their presence lingered in the different corners of the underground facility. Still, his thoughts drifted elsewhere, back to Batman's face. He could see it clearly behind the cowl, though it took a moment to place where he'd first seen it.
"Hello? Down to Earth, pretty boy?" Harley snapped her fingers in front of his face, dragging him out of his daze.
"Oh, right. Sorry. Just thinking." He gave her a quick grin. "Place isn't bad, actually. I needed a shower anyway. You do have one, right?"
Harley frowned, twisting her nose. "Of course we do. What kinda animals do you think we are?"
"Good to know," Satoru said, already moving toward the nearest room. "In that case, good night." He shut the door behind him with a soft thud.
Harley froze, blinking at the door. A twitch pulled at her eye before she puffed out her cheeks in exaggerated offense. "Rude."
With a sigh, she called louder, "Pantry's down the hall if you want food! Just don't expect more than one fresh meal a day!"
"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks!" came his muffled reply.
She shrugged, hands slipping behind her head as she walked off. 'He doesn't seem like the trouble-prone type,' she thought. At least, not the kind who'd get her murdered by Batman's glare.
Later, after a shower and a raid on the pantry's stash of sweets, Satoru lounged on one of the main hall's sofas, laptop balanced on his knees. He scrolled through files with idle curiosity, soaking in as much information as he could.
'Bruce Wayne,' he realized with a smirk. 'Knew I'd seen that face before.' He remembered the news clipping he'd skimmed on the plane, the one he hadn't bothered to read properly.
Now, it made sense. The fall of Wayne Enterprises. The "dead" billionaire. The man now living fully as the Batman, keeping the Insurgency alive.
'I don't think the others know who he is. But if Wayne's empire is gone… who's paying for all this?' He let the question hang before brushing it aside. He wasn't in the mood for financial puzzles.
Elsewhere, in the comms center, Batman stood behind Oracle. Barbara Gordon's fingers flew across the keys, her eyes on the wall of monitors.
One screen displayed Satoru, sprawled out on the sofa, eyes fixed on the laptop.
"You're certain he's from another world?" she asked.
"One hundred percent," Batman said, his voice flat. "What's he doing right now?" He asked.
"Exactly what he told you. Gathering information," she answered without looking up.
Batman shifted his attention to another screen, replaying footage from Huntress's body cam. It showed the moment Satoru had killed the Regime soldiers.
Oracle watched with him, frowning. "Damn. No hesitation, huh." She muttered. Batman rewound the sequence again, studying the movement frame by frame.
"Some kind of telekinesis?" Oracle asked.
"At first glance. But the scanners picked up a resonance," he said. "Not the same as magic; but close. The energy he emits has similar frequencies. There is a stark contrast, though, can't really point out what, yet." He replied.
Her hands stilled on the keyboard. "You're not thinking about recruiting him, are you?"
Batman's silence was answer enough. She turned in her chair, brow raised. "We don't know him. We don't know what he wants. And you've spent your whole life refusing to work with people who kill."
He didn't reply. He kept staring at the frozen image of Gojo on the monitor, his smirk caught mid-frame.
Barbara leaned back, crossing her arms. "You're tired, I get it. But don't make a judgement on haste and seemingly good hope. That's not you."
Batman's jaw tightened. He didn't deny it. Five years of uphill war had ground him down, but his morals; his line, hadn't broken. Not yet. Still, as he watched the screen flicker, he felt the mental pressure, harder than he ever had.
The next day, around mid-afternoon:
Satoru walked the halls dressed differently now, having traded his battle-worn clothes for something simple: a light-blue shirt, dark slacks, polished shoes, and a pair of round, dark sunglasses. His hands slid lazily into his pockets as he followed the corridor toward a training hall.
Through the open doorway, two figures sparred. Huntress traded blows with a lithe woman in a tight black bodysuit, her cowl shaped into sharp cat ears.
'Batman, Batwoman, and now Catwoman,' Satoru thought dryly. 'Don't tell me there's a Catman lurking around here too-'
His musing broke off when a voice called behind him.
"Ah, so you're the guy Harley wouldn't shut up about."
Satoru turned. A man in an orange-red suit, visor-like goggles covering his eyes, approached with an easy grin.
"Patrick O'Brien," he introduced, hand extended.
"Satoru Gojo," he replied, clasping the handshake. "And yeah, I have that effect on people."
Patrick tilted his head. "?"
"They can't stop talking about me," Satoru clarified, face perfectly straight.
Patrick barked out a laugh. "Hah! I like you."
Satoru leaned in a little closer, his bright eyes visible even behind the tinted lenses.
Patrick tilted back instinctively. "Uh, bro, I didn't mean it like that. One, I don't swing that way, and two, I already got a kid."
Satoru chuckled. "So that's why they call you Plastic Man, huh?"
Patrick blinked. "Wait, you know about me?"
"Nah. Harley rattled off just the team roster yesterday. You're the only one made up of…" Satoru tilted his head, grin widening, "Monomolecular Living Plastic Polymers."
Patrick froze. "…And how the hell would you know that?"
Satoru tapped his sunglasses. "I've got really good eyes."
Patrick groaned. "You know what- nope. Not even gonna ask." He shook his head and switched tracks. "Anyway, you seen Harley? Been looking for her all morning."
"Nope. Honestly thought she'd be knocking on my door first thing," Satoru said with a shrug.
Patrick sighed. "Figures. I let her hold onto my spare phone, and she hasn't even bothered returning it."
"Wait, this one?" Satoru pulled a sleek, expensive-looking phone from his pocket.
Patrick blinked. "Uh- yeah. She gave that to you?"
"Yup."
"Did she… say anything about you borrowing it?"
"Nope. Just told me, and I quote, keep it, I always keep spares," Satoru shrugged again.
Patrick stood there, speechless.
"You can have it back though," Satoru added. "Maybe I'll just ask Batman for one."
Patrick waved it off. "Nah, don't bother. I'll deal with Harley myself. You can hang onto that until you get a proper one." He tilted his head. "Oh, and you haven't officially joined the team yet, right?"
"Don't think so." Satoru shook his head.
"So what do you think?" Patrick asked, grin crooked. "Interested in opposing the gods themselves?"
Satoru smirked. "Not much for picking sides. But…" he adjusted his glasses, "…I can tell who the extreme ones are."
Patrick laughed again, clapping him on the shoulder. "Glad you're a smart one."
"I like to think so."
Patrick was about to say more when his earpiece crackled. Batman's voice cut through
Patrick straightened. "Sorry. Important call." He tapped his ear and jogged off.
One by one, the others began moving through the halls, answering the same summons.
Satoru had heard every word, of course. He smirked to himself, slid his hands back into his pockets, and followed silently after.
To be Continued!