The bunker was exactly what Adrian expected from Batman—functional, secure, and completely devoid of comfort. Concrete walls, reinforced steel door, a single cot, and enough surveillance equipment to monitor a small city. Bruce had said it was temporary, just until the Court's search moved on.
That was eight hours ago.
Adrian sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed, trying to focus on the meditation techniques Bruce had outlined before leaving. Feel the power. Don't force it. Let it flow through you naturally. Easy for Batman to say. He wasn't the one with cosmic energy rewriting his DNA every few seconds.
Adrian extended his hand, palm up, and concentrated. The silver glow began in his chest, warmth spreading through his veins like liquid light. It traveled down his arm, pooling in his palm, and—
The light sputtered and died.
"Damn it," Adrian muttered, opening his eyes. This was the fourteenth attempt, and he still couldn't maintain the manifestation for more than a few seconds. Bruce had made it look effortless when demonstrating—granted, Bruce didn't have unpredictable cosmic powers, but still.
His communicator buzzed. Adrian grabbed it, grateful for the distraction.
HOW'S THE MEDITATION GOING? Oracle's message appeared.
ABOUT AS WELL AS TEACHING A CAT TO SWIM, Adrian typed back. I CAN FEEL THE POWER, BUT CONTROLLING IT IS LIKE TRYING TO HOLD WATER IN MY BARE HANDS.
BRUCE MENTIONED THAT MIGHT BE AN ISSUE. YOUR ABILITIES ARE REACTIVE, NOT PROACTIVE. THEY RESPOND TO THREATS AUTOMATICALLY. TRYING TO FORCE THEM WITHOUT A STIMULUS IS LIKE FLEXING A MUSCLE THAT DOESN'T EXIST YET.
Adrian frowned, reading the message twice. SO HOW DO I TRAIN SOMETHING THAT ONLY WORKS WHEN I'M IN DANGER?
CAREFULLY. AND WITH SUPERVISION. WHICH IS WHY BRUCE IS HEADING BACK NOW. HE HAS AN IDEA.
The bunker door opened with a hydraulic hiss. Batman entered, cowl down, carrying a large metal case. His expression was grim but determined.
"Oracle says you have an idea," Adrian said, standing. "Should I be worried?"
"Probably." Bruce set the case down and opened it, revealing what looked like a high-tech gauntlet covered in blinking lights and sensor nodes. "Your powers are defensive in nature. They activate in response to threats. So we're going to provide controlled threats and measure your response."
Adrian eyed the gauntlet warily. "Define 'controlled threats.'"
"This will deliver various stimuli—electrical shocks, kinetic impacts, thermal extremes, even simulated toxins through dermal patches. Nothing lethal, but enough to trigger your adaptive response." Bruce lifted the gauntlet. "We'll start small and escalate gradually, giving your body time to adjust and learn. The goal is to build a catalog of adaptations you can consciously access."
"You want to hurt me so I can learn to control my powers."
"I want to train you so you don't die the next time someone tries to kill you." Bruce's tone was blunt. "Right now, your abilities are raw potential. You got lucky with the Talons—they weren't expecting resistance. The next threat won't be so accommodating. So yes, I'm going to hurt you. But I'm also going to teach you how to hurt back. Effectively."
Adrian looked at the gauntlet, then at Bruce's unwavering expression. This was what he'd signed up for. Training. Real training, not the gentle introduction he'd been hoping for.
"Okay," Adrian said, extending his arm. "Let's do this."
Bruce secured the gauntlet, adjusting straps until it fit snugly. "We'll start with electrical stimulation. Low voltage, gradually increasing. Your job is to focus on how your body responds. Feel the adaptation happening. Try to hold onto that sensation even after the stimulus stops."
"And if I can't?"
"Then we keep trying until you can." Bruce moved to a control panel. "Ready?"
Adrian took a breath, centering himself. "Ready."
The first shock was mild—like static electricity from a doorknob. Adrian felt his skin tingle, cells realigning to disperse the charge. It happened automatically, his body reacting before his mind fully processed the sensation.
"Again," Bruce said. "This time, pay attention to the moment between stimulus and response. That's where your control lives."
The second shock was stronger. Adrian gritted his teeth, forcing himself to observe rather than just react. There—a split second where his body decided how to adapt. He tried to grab onto that moment, to extend it, but it slipped away like smoke.
"Good," Bruce said, surprising him. "You hesitated. That means you're starting to perceive the process. Again."
They continued. Shock after shock, each one slightly stronger. Adrian's skin began to glow faintly silver as his cells adapted, building resistance. And slowly, painfully, he began to feel the pattern. The moment of assessment. The decision tree his body followed. The adaptation itself.
"I can feel it," Adrian gasped after the twentieth shock. "It's like... like my cells are asking questions. Can we insulate? Can we ground? Can we absorb?"
"Yes." Bruce increased the voltage. "And your body is answering. But right now, it's making those decisions unconsciously. We need to bring that process into your conscious control. Focus."
The next shock hit harder, and Adrian pushed. Not against the electricity, but into the adaptation itself. He felt his awareness sink deeper into his own biology, touching the place where the Source Wall fragment resided. Silver light flared, and suddenly the electricity wasn't painful—it was fuel.
Adrian's hand crackled with captured energy, arcs dancing between his fingers.
"Hold it," Bruce commanded. "Don't let it dissipate. Own it."
Adrian concentrated, trying to maintain the charge. His hand shook with effort, sweat beading on his forehead. The energy wanted to disperse, to return to equilibrium, but he held on. Five seconds. Ten. Fifteen.
Then his control slipped, and the energy discharged harmlessly into the floor with a loud crack.
Adrian slumped, breathing hard. "How long did I hold it?"
"Eighteen seconds." Bruce deactivated the gauntlet. "That's significantly better than zero. We're making progress."
"It felt like I was trying to hold onto lightning."
"Because you essentially were." Bruce handed him a water bottle. "Your body converted the electrical attack into storable energy. That's a level of adaptation beyond simple resistance. It's transmutation."
Adrian drank deeply, his mind racing. "So I can absorb energy attacks?"
"Potentially. But there are limits—your body needs time to process and adapt. Overload you too quickly, and the adaptation fails. That's why training is critical. You need to know your thresholds." Bruce checked the gauntlet's readouts. "We'll continue with electrical stimulation tomorrow. Today, I want to test impact resistance."
"More hitting?"
"More hitting," Bruce confirmed. "But first, food. Alfred packed enough for both of us."
As they ate—sandwiches that were probably too elegant to be called sandwiches—Adrian's communicator buzzed again. Oracle.
TALON ACTIVITY SPIKING. THEY'RE CONVERGING ON SOMETHING IN THE DIAMOND DISTRICT. BRUCE, WE MIGHT HAVE A PROBLEM.
Bruce was already moving, pulling up a holographic display. Security camera feeds showed at least twenty Talons surrounding an office building. "That's Chen Biotech. Dr. Chen's old laboratory."
"They're going after her research," Adrian said, standing. "Whatever she didn't destroy."
"Or they're using the location as bait." Bruce's expression darkened. "Oracle, is Dr. Chen still in protective custody?"
CHECKING... DAMN. SHE GAVE HER PROTECTION DETAIL THE SLIP THREE HOURS AGO. GPS ON HER PHONE SHOWS—
"The laboratory," Adrian finished. "She went back for something."
Bruce was already suiting up, securing his cowl with practiced efficiency. "She's walking into a trap."
"Then we go get her."
"I go get her. You stay here where it's safe."
Adrian stood, meeting Batman's eyes. "You said you'd train me to fight. To control my powers. How am I supposed to learn if I never face real danger?"
"This isn't training, it's a rescue operation against overwhelming odds."
"You do those every night."
"I've been doing this for fifteen years."
"And I have powers that can adapt to any threat." Adrian grabbed the gauntlet, securing it to his arm. "You said my abilities need real stimulus to develop. Well, here's your stimulus. Twenty Talons, one scientist in danger, and me learning what I'm capable of."
Bruce stared at him for a long moment. Then: "Oracle. Tell Nightwing we're moving in. Adrian stays with me at all times. Any sign he's overwhelmed, we extract immediately."
ACKNOWLEDGED. SENDING YOU BOTH THE BUILDING SCHEMATICS. AND ADRIAN? TRY NOT TO DIE. I'D LIKE TO ACTUALLY MEET YOU IN PERSON SOMEDAY.
Despite the tension, Adrian smiled. "I'll do my best."
The Diamond District gleamed with wealth even at midnight. Chen Biotech occupied the fifteenth floor of a glass and steel tower that reflected Gotham's lights like a jewel. Beautiful. And currently surrounded by assassins.
Batman and Adrian landed on the rooftop three buildings away. Nightwing was already there, watching through binoculars.
"Twenty-two Talons, all armed with metahuman capture gear," Dick reported. "Dr. Chen is inside, fifteenth floor. Looks like she's accessing a secure server—probably trying to delete her research permanently."
"Smart," Bruce said. "But she should have called for help."
"People rarely do the smart thing when they're desperate." Dick finally looked at Adrian, grinning despite the situation. "So you're the new guy. Nightwing. Pleasure to meet someone who makes Bruce break his 'no powers in the cave' rule."
"I didn't ask for powers," Adrian said, shaking his hand.
"They never do. Makes it more fun to watch." Dick's expression turned serious. "Can you really adapt to anything?"
"Theoretically. Practically, I'm still figuring it out."
"Well, you're about to get a crash course. Bruce, what's the plan?"
Batman pulled up a holographic layout of the building. "Talons are concentrated on the ground floor and stairwells—they're funneling Dr. Chen toward a capture point on the twelfth floor. Nightwing, you create a distraction at street level. Draw off half their forces. Adrian and I go in through the roof, reach Dr. Chen before she hits the trap."
"And when we encounter Talons?" Adrian asked.
"You adapt or you retreat. No heroics. Clear?"
Adrian nodded, though his heart was pounding. This was real. Not training, not meditation. Real danger with real stakes.
They moved.
Nightwing descended first, dropping into the street with a whoop that announced his presence. Talons immediately converged on him, and Dick met them with acrobatic fury—escrima sticks crackling with electricity as he danced between attackers.
"Show-off," Bruce muttered, grappling to the biotech building's roof with Adrian beside him.
They breached through a service entrance, entering a dark stairwell that smelled of disinfectant and fear. Batman moved with complete silence, but Adrian found his enhanced senses making stealth almost effortless. He could hear heartbeats—Dr. Chen's rapid pulse fifteen floors below, panicked but alive. And closer, much closer, the controlled breathing of Talons lying in ambush.
"Three floors down," Adrian whispered. "Two Talons, both sides of the landing."
Bruce glanced at him. "You can hear that?"
"I can hear their breathing. Feel the air displacement from their movement." Adrian paused. "Is that normal?"
"For you? Apparently." Bruce drew something from his belt. "Wait for my signal, then engage. Remember—"
"Adapt or retreat. I know."
They descended two flights in absolute silence. As they approached the third landing, Adrian felt his body beginning to shift. His vision sharpened, filtering through darkness as easily as daylight. His muscles tensed, preparing for combat before his conscious mind registered the threat.
Interesting, he thought. My body knows they're there before I see them.
Batman's signal was a small flash-bang that tumbled down the stairs. The Talons reacted instantly, but they were already too late. Bruce swept through the first one with brutal efficiency—three strikes, perfectly placed, and the Talon crumpled.
The second came at Adrian.
Time seemed to slow. Adrian saw the electrified blade coming, saw the Talon's weight distribution, saw the seventeen different ways this could go wrong. And his body chose.
He stepped inside the strike, letting the blade pass harmlessly behind him. His hand caught the Talon's wrist, and the moment they touched, Adrian felt information flooding into his awareness. Combat training, muscle memory, tactical subroutines—his power was copying the Talon's skills in real-time.
Adrian's counterstrike was textbook perfect—a throw that used the Talon's own momentum against him. The assassin hit the wall hard and stayed down.
"That was good," Bruce said, already moving. "But we're not done."
They continued downward. More Talons appeared, and each encounter taught Adrian something new. His body learned from every fight, evolved with every exchange. By the time they reached the fifteenth floor, he moved with a confidence that hadn't existed an hour ago.
Dr. Chen was exactly where Oracle predicted—bent over a computer terminal, fingers flying across the keyboard as she deleted files with desperate speed.
"Dr. Chen," Batman's voice made her jump. "We need to leave. Now."
"Almost done," she gasped. "Just a few more minutes—"
"We don't have minutes," Adrian interrupted, his enhanced hearing picking up movement below. "They're coming. At least eight of them."
Bruce moved to the door, preparing defensive positions. "Can you hold them?"
"I—" Adrian hesitated. "I don't know."
"Then figure it out fast."
The first Talons burst through the door in a coordinated assault. Batman met them with calculated fury, but there were too many. One slipped past, heading straight for Dr. Chen.
Adrian intercepted.
The Talon's blade came at his throat—a killing strike, fast and precise. Adrian's body responded before thought, skin hardening to organic steel. The blade shattered against his neck with a metallic ring.
Both Adrian and the Talon stared in shock.
Then Adrian remembered Bruce's training—hesitation gets you killed—and struck back. His steel-hard fist connected with the Talon's solar plexus, and the assassin dropped like a puppet with cut strings.
"Well," Dick's voice crackled through the comm. "That was metal. Literally."
More Talons poured in. Adrian found himself fighting beside Batman, his body adapting with each exchange. One Talon hit him with an electrical baton—he absorbed the charge and released it in a burst that stunned three others. Another came with neural disruptors—his nervous system evolved resistance in seconds.
But there were too many. Even adapting, even learning, Adrian felt himself being overwhelmed.
"Oracle," Bruce said calmly while deflecting two attacks simultaneously. "Extraction window. Now."
NORTHWEST CORNER, FIFTEEN SECONDS. BATWING INCOMING.
"Dr. Chen, with me!" Batman grabbed the scientist, who'd finally finished her deletion protocol. "Adrian, cover our exit!"
Adrian planted himself in the doorway, feeling his power surge. More Talons came, and he met each one—blocking, striking, adapting. His body became a blur of motion, skills stolen from a dozen attackers blending into something uniquely his own.
But one Talon was faster. Stronger. Different.
This one didn't use weapons. Didn't need them. It moved with inhuman speed, striking Adrian's ribs with enough force to crack stone. Pain exploded through his chest, and Adrian felt bones fracturing even as his healing factor kicked in.
"Enhanced Talon," Bruce's voice was tight. "Adrian, fall back!"
Adrian tried, but the Talon was relentless. Another strike, then another. His adaptations couldn't keep pace with the sheer ferocity of the assault. He was learning, evolving, but not fast enough.
The Talon's hand closed around his throat, lifting him off the ground. Adrian's vision began to darken, his newly adapted steel-skin meaningless against this creature's strength.
Is this how I die again? Adrian thought distantly. Brought back just to fail?
Then silver light exploded from his chest.
The Source Wall fragment responded, flooding Adrian with power he didn't know he possessed. His body didn't just adapt—it transcended. Strength poured into his limbs, speed into his reflexes, and something else. Something cosmic.
Adrian's hand caught the Talon's wrist, and this time, he was stronger.
The enhanced Talon's eyes widened behind its mask as Adrian pried the grip loose and reversed their positions. He slammed the creature into the floor with enough force to crater the tiles.
"Stay down," Adrian growled, his voice echoing with otherworldly resonance.
The Talon wisely stayed down.
Batman appeared beside him, studying Adrian with an unreadable expression. Silver light still flickered across his skin, and his eyes glowed like molten mercury.
"Can you control it?" Bruce asked quietly.
Adrian focused, trying to rein in the power. Slowly, agonizingly, the light faded. His breathing returned to normal. The cosmic presence receded, leaving him feeling simultaneously powerful and drained.
"I... think so," Adrian said.
"Good. Because we need to move." Bruce gestured to the window where the Batwing hovered, its loading ramp extended. "Jump."
Adrian didn't hesitate. He ran, leaped, and landed in the aircraft with Batman and Dr. Chen right behind him. Nightwing was already in the pilot's seat, grinning.
"Nice lightshow," Dick said, pulling away from the building. "Very dramatic. Bruce would be proud, except he doesn't do proud."
"I'm satisfied," Bruce amended. "Which is as close as you'll get."
Dr. Chen was crying, clutching a data drive like it contained her soul. "Thank you. All of you. If they'd gotten my research—"
"They didn't," Adrian said, dropping into a seat as exhaustion hit him. "It's over."
"For now," Bruce corrected. "The Court won't stop. But we hurt them tonight. Made them think twice about easy targets." He looked at Adrian. "You did well. The power surge at the end concerns me, but overall, you performed admirably."
Coming from Batman, that was high praise.
Oracle's voice came through the comm. BRINGING YOU ALL HOME. ALFRED'S MAKING COCOA. AND ADRIAN? THAT WAS IMPRESSIVE. REALLY IMPRESSIVE.
Adrian smiled despite his exhaustion. "Thanks, Oracle. Looking forward to meeting you properly."
SAME. GET SOME REST. YOU'RE GOING TO NEED IT.
As the Batwing soared over Gotham, Adrian looked out at the city lights. Hours ago, he'd been meditating in a bunker, struggling to control powers he barely understood. Now he'd fought beside Batman, saved a life, and discovered depths to his abilities he'd never imagined.
He was adapting. Learning. Becoming.
And somewhere in the city below, Barbara Gordon watched her monitors and smiled, adding more observations to Adrian Cross's file.
Subject continues to exceed expectations, she typed. Combat performance: excellent. Adaptation speed: remarkable. Likelihood of survival: improving.
Then, on a separate, personal file she'd never admit existed, she added one more note:
Personal assessment: He's going to be something special.