"Some fear gods. Others make gods afraid."
---
The Cave felt different tonight.
No alarms, no mission chatter only the quiet hum of the Bat-Computer and the faint echo of dripping water.
News feeds looped on the giant monitors: aerial footage of the docks, the crater, the single figure walking away while the world watched.
Every network called him something different. The Saint of Gotham, The Final Fist, The Man Who Ended Fear.
But inside the Cave, silence ruled.
Nightwing leaned back against the console, arms folded. "So that's it, huh? He snaps his fingers—no, wait, punches and suddenly the city's clean?"
Tim tapped a keyboard, eyes fixed on the looping footage. "Not clean. Terrified. Every gang went dark. Not one turf fight in forty-eight hours. Even Penguin's moving his assets out of the Narrows."
"Fear works," Jason muttered from the stairs, helmet under one arm. "It's more than we ever managed."
Barbara shot him a look. "You think vaporizing people on live TV is justice?"
He shrugged. "I think it's effective."
---
From the shadows above the platform, Bruce said nothing. His cowl hung from one hand, his face unreadable.
Damian broke the silence first. "He protected the children. He didn't kill them. His intent wasn't evil."
Nightwing frowned. "Intent doesn't change the outcome, Damian. The guy erased someone from existence."
Jason smirked. "Yeah, and? Black Mask wasn't exactly running an orphanage."
"Jason," Bruce finally said, voice quiet but edged like a blade. "Enough."
---
The sound of heels echoed up the stairs—measured, deliberate.
Selina Kyle emerged from the shadows, hair damp from the rain, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
"Well," She purred, glancing at the monitor, "someone finally did what you never could."
Barbara stiffened. "You're defending him?"
Selina tilted her head. "Not defending. Observing. Gotham's cleaner tonight, isn't it?"
Bruce turned to her. "At what cost, Selina? Justice can't survive if it's built on annihilation."
She met his gaze, calm, unwavering. "Maybe justice can't survive the way you define it, Bruce."
---
Damian stepped forward. "Father, you always taught us fear is a tool. King used it perfectly."
"And when fear replaces law?" Bruce asked.
"It's still order." Damian said.
Jason chuckled. "The kid's not wrong."
Barbara slammed her palm on the console. "Order built on fear isn't justice, it's tyranny."
Tim spoke softly. "But maybe Gotham needs tyranny… just this once."
The Cave fell silent again, the monitors flickering in rhythm with the heartbeat of the city above.
---
Selina broke the tension, her voice quieter now. "I met him once. Outside Crime Alley. He was feeding stray cats. Didn't say a word, just did it."
She looked up at the crater footage again. "That's not a monster. That's a man who's tired of watching monsters win."
Bruce's jaw tightened. "And yet, if we let that line blur, we become them."
She reached out, fingers brushing his arm. "Or maybe we finally save what's left."
---
Damian's voice cut through the silence. "So what do we do about him?"
Bruce turned to the screen—King's figure frozen mid-stride, rain glistening around him. "We watch. We learn. And if the day comes that he decides to judge Gotham again…"
He lowered his cowl back over his face.
"…we stop him."
---
In the quiet that followed, the faint hum of the Bat-Computer filled the space again.
Outside, the city slept uneasily. Its criminals silent, its citizens unsure whether to thank or fear their newest savior.
And somewhere above the skyline, King stood atop a building, watching the same city that now whispered his name.
The King Engine pulsed once.
Thump.
Then silence.
Read 15 chapters ahead on P.A.T.R.E.O.N
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