"An indomitable will is the truest form of immortality."
---
The rooftop overlooked Gotham Harbor, where the broken skyline glimmered on black water.
The docks still bore the scar of King's punch—a perfect circle where nothing grew, nothing dared.
Fog crawled over the edge of the roof as Nightwing, Batgirl, Red Hood, Robin, and Batman landed in near silence.
The air was thick with tension and faint static—the kind that followed a storm not yet over.
Tim scanned the area. "Thermals say he's here. Standing still. No heartbeat spike."
Jason cocked his gun. "Yeah, because he's not human."
"Lower it." Bruce said.
---
King stood near the edge, shirt stirring faintly in the cold wind. The lights of the city reflected in his scar—half-shadow, half-light.
"You don't need to hide." He said without turning. "I heard the grapples."
Nightwing approached cautiously. "We just want to talk."
"People who just want to talk don't come armed to the teeth."
Jason smirked. "Fair point."
He holstered the pistol but didn't move closer. "You made a mess, man. Docks are still smoking. Every crime lord in Gotham's gone underground."
"Then Gotham's breathing again." King said simply.
---
Kate stepped forward, voice steady but laced with unease. "You killed a man. Live broadcast. You think that's peace?"
King looked over his shoulder. "You call what this city had before peace?"
"Fear isn't stability." Bruce said, stepping into the light.
"It's submission."
King turned fully then, facing them—his presence pressing on the air like weight. "Submission to what, Bruce? Law? Order? Both have failed this place for decades. You save one child, one street, one night—and lose ten more the next. I ended the cycle."
---
Damian's voice was sharp. "By vaporizing a man?"
"By cutting out rot." King replied, calm as stone. "You don't heal a wound by letting it fester."
Nightwing crossed his arms. "You sound like Ra's al Ghul."
"I sound like someone who's done pretending monsters can be reasoned with."
Jason gave a small, impressed whistle. "He's got a point."
Kate shot him a glare. "You would say that."
---
Bruce's voice cut through the argument. "And when you decide someone else deserves to die? When it's not a warlord or a trafficker but someone who simply crosses your ideals? Who judges you, King?"
King's eyes narrowed slightly, but his tone never changed. "No one. Because I am not law. I am consequence."
A pause. The rain started again—soft, deliberate, like the sky was listening.
---
Selina's voice carried from the shadows by the stairwell. "You don't get to choose who lives or dies, King."
He regarded her for a moment. "Neither do you. But you all pretend to by letting Joker walk free, in a way."
She walked closer, leather whispering against the wind. "You're not helping them. You're teaching them to fear power."
King looked up at the clouds, then back to her. "Sometimes fear is the only language evil understands."
---
Bruce took a step forward. The others tensed automatically.
"You think you're helping Gotham?" He said, voice low. "But you're just reminding it that gods don't belong here."
King studied him for a long moment. The wind stilled.
"I never claimed to be a god." He said quietly. "I just stopped pretending to be mere."
---
No one moved. For a moment, the sound of rain filled the space between them.
Then, without warning, King stepped forward—and the entire Bat-Family flinched as instinct screamed danger.
He stopped just short of Bruce, meeting his gaze.
"Don't follow me again." He said softly. "I don't want to hurt anyone who still believes in hope."
He turned, walking toward the edge of the rooftop. The King Engine pulsed once.
Thump.
And he vanished in a blur of displaced air, the rain folding around the emptiness he left behind.
---
The rooftop was silent. Only the wind spoke.
Jason exhaled. "So… are we gonna pretend that didn't just scare the hell out of us?"
Nightwing looked at Bruce. "What now?"
Bruce stared at the crater's distant glow on the horizon.
His voice was quiet, but resolute.
"We prepare."
Read 17 chapters ahead on P.A.T.R.E.O.N
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