Alfred's composure snapped like a drawn wire.
"This was my decision."
His voice wasn't raised, but it carried the kind of restrained force that made the air feel heavier.
"Master Wayne devoted his entire life to protecting Gotham. What you saw in that chamber is the result of that devotion. If anyone considers him a liability, they are free to leave this estate."
He straightened slightly, frailty vanishing behind something unyielding.
"Wayne Manor remains private property."
Lex felt the temperature in the room drop several degrees. For a fleeting second he wondered—very practically—whether the old man's blood pressure could survive this conversation.
He stepped in quickly.
"Alfred, if I overstepped, that's on me. I apologize."
The words were sincere. Strategy aside, he respected loyalty when he saw it.
James Gordon cleared his throat lightly. "Alfred."
A reminder.
Alfred closed his eyes, inhaled, then exhaled with measured control.
"Lex," he said at last, voice calmer, "I regret my tone. You're not wrong to consider risk. You've seen the containment level yourself. That chamber is reinforced beyond military standards. He cannot escape. He cannot harm anyone."
James nodded. "Alfred's keeping him there because he believes a cure is possible."
Lex did not immediately respond.
A cure.
He knew things they didn't. The infection wasn't something that simply reversed. The pathogen rewrote neural pathways, destroyed higher cognition, and reanimated tissue through parasitic viral dominance. Even if you halted the virus, what remained?
And the so-called antitoxin developed by Umbrella Corporation? It didn't restore. It sterilized. It terminated infected hosts en masse.
Airborne dispersal. Total eradication.
Not salvation.
Lex felt the outline of something darker forming in his thoughts. Every major hero eliminated. Infection vectors disproportionately impacting enhanced individuals. Strategic destabilization.
Targeted.
But speculation wasn't evidence.
"Alfred," Lex said quietly, "your loyalty does you credit."
The old man gave a restrained nod. "Thank you."
Then Alfred's gaze sharpened.
"But surely you're wondering why Director Gordon brought you here. Why reveal this at all?"
Lex glanced at Gordon. The unspoken pressure returned.
Can I opt out of knowing? he almost said.
Gordon didn't allow the moment to drift.
"The truth that Bruce Wayne is Batman—and that he's infected—is known to four people," he said evenly. "Alfred. Me. Selina."
He didn't say her alias, but Lex knew.
Catwoman.
"And now you," Gordon finished.
Lex felt the significance settle.
Gordon continued. "You understand what Batman represents in Gotham. He isn't just a vigilante. He's a symbol. A line in the dark that criminals won't cross. A belief that keeps people standing when everything else falls apart."
His expression hardened.
"When Bruce was infected, we buried the truth. Gotham couldn't afford to lose that symbol."
Alfred folded his hands behind his back.
"We have been searching," he said carefully, "for someone capable of carrying it."
Lex's stomach tightened slightly.
Alfred met his eyes directly.
"To put it plainly—we intend to prepare you as his successor. Not as Bruce Wayne. As Batman."
The words landed with startling clarity.
Lex blinked once.
He had come here calculating angles. Access. Equipment. Infrastructure.
This?
This was not on his projection board.
Become Batman.
His childhood fantasy echoed faintly in memory—bedsheet cape, bruised ego, impossible dreams.
And now two men were offering him the cowl as if it were a logistical appointment.
Gordon studied him. "You know what Batman means to this city."
Yes.
A deterrent.
A myth weaponized into order.
"If you accept," Gordon continued, "you won't just wear armor. You'll carry expectation. Responsibility. Fear."
Lex let out a short breath through his nose.
Twenty-four hours ago he'd been barely surviving.
Now he was being asked to inherit a legend.
Alfred and Gordon exchanged a glance—subtle, but telling.
Gordon's unspoken thought might as well have been audible: Isn't he a fan? Shouldn't he be thrilled?
Alfred's was more cautious: Give him time.
Lex's lips twitched faintly.
"No one can refuse being a superhero," Gordon said lightly, though there was an edge beneath it.
That assumption amused Lex more than it should have.
Gordon shifted tactics.
"Lex," he said casually, gesturing around the equipment bay, "do you like what you see?"
That almost made Lex laugh.
The suits stood in immaculate rows. Tactical variants. Environmental adaptations. Heavy assault builds. Stealth composites.
And the vehicle platform—
His gaze drifted involuntarily to the centerpiece.
The Batmobile.
Not the theatrical museum-piece version the public imagined—but a modular armored response unit capable of terrestrial, aquatic, and limited aerial deployment. Reinforced chassis. Adaptive traction systems. Turbine-assisted acceleration.
It made high-end sports cars look decorative.
"If you accept," Gordon continued with a faint smile, "it's all yours."
Alfred added evenly, "Batman is entitled to Batman's tools."
Lex looked at them slowly.
Do they think I'm that easily tempted?
He folded his arms, composing his thoughts.
"Why me?" he asked plainly. "You said yourself—there are countless people who'd volunteer."
Gordon nodded. "Yes. Barbara wanted it. She even called herself Batwoman at one point."
He didn't use her surname, but Lex knew—Barbara Gordon.
"John Black volunteered too," Gordon added.
Lex filed that name away.
"But we don't need volunteers," Gordon said firmly. "We need someone who already acts when it matters. You entered Arkham. You eliminated Poison Ivy. You saved Barbara and the others."
He stepped closer.
"That's not enthusiasm. That's character."
Lex barked out a short laugh before he could stop himself.
"You're describing a hero," he said. "I don't recall signing up for that role."
"You didn't," Gordon replied. "You earned it."
Alfred's expression softened just a fraction.
"You needn't decide immediately," he said. "Such a mantle deserves reflection."
Lex looked again at the suits. At the Batmobile. At the gauntlets, the grapnels, the layered engineering brilliance.
Temptation wasn't the right word.
It was alignment again.
Efficiency.
Impact.
Scale.
As Batman, his operational radius would expand exponentially. Criminal deterrence. Resource mobilization. Intelligence access.
But it also meant exposure. Expectation. Becoming the target of every opportunist seeking to test the legend.
He inhaled slowly.
"I'm honored," he said at last. "Truly."
That wasn't false modesty.
"But I need time."
The words felt heavier than they should have.
"This isn't about wearing armor. It's about becoming something people believe in."
Gordon nodded. "Take the time you need."
Alfred added quietly, "Rest. Recover. You've just returned from a mission."
Gordon's tone shifted slightly. "And everything you've seen here remains confidential."
Lex gave a faint smile. "You have my word."
As they moved toward the elevator, Lex cast one last glance at the Batmobile.
A machine built for war.
A symbol built for hope.
He hadn't expected to stand at a crossroads tonight.
He'd come to Wayne Manor looking for equipment.
Instead, he'd been offered an identity.
And for the first time since the world fell apart, Lex wasn't sure whether accepting more power would make him safer—
—or place a target squarely on his back.
....
Want to read ahead by more than 60 chapters. Then join my pa*treon now.
Link: pa*treon.com/Amelie796 (Remove the *)
Also you can read till chapter 17 chapters for free.