Chapter 1: Ordinary Days.
The morning alarm pierced through Marcus Chen's dream of soaring across Gotham's skyline. He groaned, rolling over to slam the snooze button before reality crashed back—he wasn't the Dark Knight, just a scrawny fourteen-year-old with thick glasses and a Batman obsession that his classmates found increasingly weird.
"Marcus! Breakfast!" His mother's voice echoed up the stairs of their modest two-story home in Millbrook Heights, a middle-class neighborhood that felt a world away from the gleaming towers of downtown or the dangerous alleys where real heroes might prowl.
He shuffled downstairs, his Batman t-shirt wrinkled from sleep, to find his younger sister Emma already at the table, perfectly dressed for her day at Millbrook Elementary.
"Still wearing that shirt?" she asked, not looking up from her cereal. "You know kids at school think you're weird, right?"
"Emma, be nice to your brother," their mother, Sarah Chen, said while packing lunch boxes with practiced efficiency. She worked as a nurse at Millbrook General Hospital, always bustling but never too busy for her kids. "Marcus, eat something substantial. You have that physics test today."
Marcus grabbed a piece of toast, his mind already drifting to the latest Batman comic he'd read last night. The way Batman analyzed crime scenes, the gadgets, the detective work—it all seemed so much more exciting than quadratic equations and essay assignments.
"Earth to Marcus," his father, David, appeared in the doorway, adjusting his tie. He managed the local branch of a small accounting firm and had long ago given up trying to understand his son's fascination with masked vigilantes. "Remember, grades matter more than comic books."
"They're graphic novels, Dad," Marcus mumbled through his toast.
The walk to Millbrook Middle School took fifteen minutes through tree-lined suburban streets. Marcus walked alone, as usual. His best friend Jake Martinez lived across town and took the bus, while most of his other classmates had decided sometime in seventh grade that Marcus Chen was too weird to associate with.
At school, Marcus navigated the familiar routine: sitting alone at lunch, getting picked last in gym class, and trying to stay invisible during group projects. His teachers liked him—he was smart and never caused trouble—but among his peers, he was just the kid who drew Batman symbols in his notebook margins and could quote entire scenes from The Dark Knight Rises.
"Hey, Batman boy!" Tyler Brooks called out as Marcus walked past his locker. Tyler was everything Marcus wasn't—tall, athletic, popular, and blessed with the kind of easy confidence that made teachers trust him and girls giggle at his jokes. "Still planning to save Gotham?"
His friends laughed, and Marcus felt his face burn red. He hurried past without responding, clutching his books tighter.
In English class, Mrs. Patterson assigned them to write about their heroes. While other kids wrote about athletes or celebrities, Marcus found himself writing about what it meant to stand up for people who couldn't stand up for themselves, about using intelligence and determination to make a difference in the world.
"Interesting perspective, Marcus," Mrs. Patterson said when she handed back the papers the next day. She'd given him an A-. "Though I notice you wrote about ideals rather than a specific person. Do you have a real hero you look up to?"
Marcus shrugged. How could he explain that his real heroes wore capes and cowls and existed only in comics? That sometimes, when he couldn't sleep, he'd stare at his bedroom ceiling and wonder what it would feel like to actually make a difference in the world instead of just reading about people who did?
That evening, he sat at his desk supposedly doing homework but actually sketching costume designs in his notebook. He'd drawn dozens of them over the years—variations on classic superhero themes, always returning to the dark, intimidating aesthetic that made Batman so effective.
His phone buzzed with a text from Jake: "Movie tomorrow? New action flick at the mall."
Marcus typed back: "Can't. Family dinner at grandma's."
It was a lie. His grandmother lived in Florida now, and there was no family dinner planned. But Jake had been distant lately, more interested in hanging out with the popular kids from his neighborhood school. Marcus didn't want to admit that the idea of sitting through two hours of explosions and one-liners felt hollow compared to the rich storytelling and moral complexity of his favorite comics.
He closed his notebook and looked out his bedroom window at the quiet suburban street. Somewhere out there, in the real world, bad things were happening to good people. Somewhere, real heroes were needed. But here in Millbrook Heights, the biggest crime was probably Mrs. Henderson's cat knocking over garbage cans.
Marcus Chen fell asleep that night with no idea that his ordinary world was about to change forever.