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—
2003
Gotham City
One Month after the Formation of the Justice League
Miles opened his eyes, seeing nothing but darkness, and his nose was immediately assaulted with the stench of trash. Gagging, he pushed himself up; his head hit the lid of the trash container, but he pushed himself up, taking a deep breath of fresh air and gagged again.
Wherever he was, the air was choked with smoke. He coughed a couple of times to get the accursed taste out of his mouth, finally surveying his surroundings. He remembered going to sleep last night in his bed but had no idea how he ended up here.
He walked out of the alley he found himself in, trying to get a bearing as to his location. The bustling street and the air heavy and black with smoke weren't familiar to him, but at least he was in America.
He decided to take a walk around, memorizing the signs, shops, and everything easily recognizable to find this place again, should he need to.
No sign of the famous brands he knew, nor anything remotely familiar. His stroll eventually took him to a building, more of a tower really, with a giant "W" at the top, glowing neon green.
Him standing there cluelessly had drawn attention, as a woman approached him.
"Hello, sir. Do you have any business at the Wayne Tower?" She asked, her guard up and smiling in a way that told him she wished his answer was to the contrary.
"Terribly sorry. I am new to the city and seem to have gotten lost while trying to meet a friend. Can you point me to the nearest public library?" His smile seemed to have disarmed her a bit, as she relaxed her shoulders and pointed across the road.
"Continue down the road and take a left turn at the end. It will be straight ahead."
"Thank you, miss." He waited for the green light and crossed the street.
He knew a Wayne Tower, but last time he checked it was nothing more than a piece of fiction. Implications of its existence were troubling.
Perhaps further information could shed light on his situation. Now, he needed to find that library, and there it was.
"Gotham Public Library," it read, confirming his worries.
This wasn't good at all.
—
Gotham.
The hive of scum and villainy is like no other in the DC Universe, bar some extreme places like Apokolips.
Several lunatics and deranged monsters were running the streets, from the Clown Prince of Crime, Joker, to Scarecrow and Professor Pyg. It was a city where only people in a comic book would live, as no sane person would want to be anywhere near them.
Such as him.
But his ID, no matter how real back at home, did not exist in this universe, and he barely had two hundred dollars in his wallet.
He needed currency, a real ID, and the earliest plane out of this place.
He had no superpowers, no knowledge and experience in acrobatics and close quarters combat—such as Batman—and his only possession was the clothes on his back.
Not even his phone.
But solutions to his predicament existed. That is why he was in the library, surfing on the internet to see if the killer of Thomas and Martha Wayne was found. So far, no news of it existed, and their murderer was still at large.
Fortunately for him, he began to search the GCPD database for Joe Chillton, as the criminal in question already had a record, as far as he knew.
Bingo.
Joe Chillton, forty-six years old, did jail time for mugging and assault. Worked for known mobsters, and there was even a photo. Printing the necessary information, he unplugged the computer and poured the cup of water inside the old case.
No need to be tracked by the GCPD.
He took the print and headed to find a cab.
Ten million dollars sounded like a reasonable amount for the value of this information.
He just needed an account.
—
Seventy-five dollars and an hour in a cab smelling of cheap smoke, he stopped before the gates of the Wayne Manor. Taking the cardboard he had written his message on, he showed it to the nearest camera, along with his face, got back in the cab, and left.
—
Wayne Manor
The security system flagged the man, sending an automated message containing the video to the Batcave.
Several hours later, when Batman returned from his patrol and checked the computer in the cave, he saw the message and played the video.
His eyes narrowed at the writing on the cardboard the man was holding.
"Mr. Wayne, the identity of the criminal who murdered your parents for $10 million, one million of it in cash. Find me if you are interested."
He very much was.
—
Miles was eating a cup of cheap noodles from a stand, waiting. He had already spent 150 dollars on the cab, found a cheap motel for a couple of days, and only had enough money for noodles with questionable ingredients.
Heads of the patrons and the chef turned around, wondering. After all, a limo in a neighborhood like this was rare.
Miles paid for the unfinished noodles and approached the limo, coming face to face with the handsome and charming Bruce Wayne, who looked as if he wanted to question him Batman-style.
"I received your message. Get in." His voice was flat, as would be expected when a man is about to learn the name of his parents' killer.
"I apologize for the smell; I found myself in an undesirable situation and had no time to clean up."
Bruce Wayne did not comment, watching him like a falcon watching its prey.
"Who is it?"
Anyone else and he would ask for the payment upfront, but Bruce Wayne, or rather Batman, wasn't the type to play around, and he was reasonably sure the detective wouldn't just forget about it.
"Joe Chillton, here is a photo of him, as well as his last known address. I am sure you can make him confess. As for the payment, you can find me after confirming it, and we can talk it out."
"How did you learn this when I was investigating it for years with no leads?" Bruce asked, memorizing every detail in the paper.
"I hear things, Mr. Wayne. I am sure we both have secrets we'd like to keep hidden behind a mask."
"If this is a joke, I will find you." It wasn't a warning so much as a promise.
"I have absolutely no doubts about it." Miles smiled, getting off the limo. Batman would definitely find him, as he had no means of hiding from him in his own turf.
He expected an interrogation, perhaps Batman straight up kidnapping him, but Miles was sure the Caped Crusader was more interested in finding the man responsible for the traumatic event that created him.
—
"Master Bruce, are you sure it was wise to not question him further?" Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne's butler and father figure, asked in that rich tone of his.
"This is more important. I will find him after this either way."
"You or Batman, sir?" If this was a deception on the part of that man, he wasn't sure what Master Bruce would do.
"Depends on what I found."
"Master Bruce, when he said, "We both have secrets," do you think he meant anything specific?" Alfred asked, referring to his crime-fighting persona.
He didn't receive an answer.
—
Miles always had a flair for learning important things, and as such, the idea of an information network always fascinated him, but he had neither the capital, connections, nor reason to start one.
In high school, for example, he kept the bullies in check with embarrassing blackmail material and did not hesitate to do the same to the teachers if they were unreasonable people unfit to be teachers. It was personal, to ensure he did not have to deal with their childish antics, but in college it wasn't necessary, so he tried not to poke his nose into other people's business for a paranoid need to be in control of everything.
Comics, though, were a guilty pleasure of his; he even had some memorabilia. His knowledge was detailed, more than most other fans, but he was at a crossroads.
DCU wasn't a nice place nine out of ten times. Unhinged and unstable criminals, people with delusions of grandeur who wanted to take over the world or rule it from the shadows, assassination cults, metahumans, alien invasions, changes to the timeline making everything worse, beings capable of destroying the universe, and more.
Ten million dollars was good enough to live the rest of his life in comfort; he could just bury his head in the sand and ignore the world and live in some isolated place.
But Darkseid, the Reach, the Anti-Monitor, Trigon, the Light, and others would not just let this planet be, however many of them existed in this particular timeline.
Unless he was living deep beneath the Earth, where their actions couldn't affect him, or wouldn't matter in the case of the Anti-Monitor, he would always be in danger.
So, no matter how alluring it was, it just wasn't feasible.
His other choice was to use his information for the betterment of this world. Acquiring advanced alien technologies and earning the loyalty and assistance of superpowered individuals, along with financial backing and intelligence, he could prepare this planet to fight against them.
Most of them, anyway.
He would have to get some dirt on the government, whether on individuals or about their less than moral and legal actions.
Such as Amanda Waller and the Suicide Squad she would command.
With the careful manipulation of the media, it could be an excellent way of negating any government interference in his business.
Hackers and metahumans with technopathic powers, such as Zalika if she did exist, could be used to gather intelligence, and he could frame it as the basis of his knowledge.
Geniuses, whether villains who were made into monsters or just people down on their luck, can be used to create a research base that would create advanced technologies as well as reverse engineer alien technologies, should he acquire any.
Mr. Freeze, for example, just wanted to save his wife; offering him a way to do it would see the man turn over a new leaf. He could stop the melting of the polar caps and cool the earth through artificial means.
Hiro Okamura, a child genius in robotics, and Cyborg, with his ability to interface with technology, could be valuable additions as well, once they are old enough and exist, of course.
Poison Ivy, in her own twisted way, wanted to save nature, and with her control and knowledge over plants, she could be used to stop desertification of Earth and solve world hunger through super crops, not to mention if she could grow vast forests, it could do wonders against global warming.
Clean energy, a sustainable environment, and scientific and technological growth could see Earth resist the alien invasions along with the superheroes, as well as solve the internal problems the planet faced.
For now, he would sleep and start planning as soon as possible.
—
Miles slowly woke up, feeling unusually sluggish, and found himself tied to a chair as he came to be.
"Did you drug me, Batman?" he slurred, moving as much as he could with his limited movement range to gain control of his body.
He wasn't wrong about the kidnapping part, at least.
"Your information was true; he confessed to everything. Which makes me even more curious as to how you knew everything." Batman, with his mask down, glared at him, throwing away any pretense.
"I am an information broker, Batman; this is my job," he replied with as much confidence as he could muster.
"You could have just requested a meeting, by the way; drugging and kidnapping me from my bed was unnecessary."
"I know all the major information brokers, yet I have never heard of you. Why?" The famous batglare was in full force now, and Miles was sure anyone else would soil themselves right now.
"I am better than them, obviously."
"Is that why you came to my door and revealed yourself?"
"Ever heard of the Reach?" He asked, ignoring the question.
"No"
"They are an alien empire hell-bent on conquering the galaxy and already have done so to tens of thousands of planets. They have plans lasting longer than the lifespan of a human and use their technological advantage to secretly conquer a planet," Miles explained, earning Batman's interest.
"Why tell me that?"
"Because it is a very real threat, and Earth is on their radar. But you know what is even worse?" Batman didn't move, waiting for Miles to answer his own question.
"They are just one of the many threats this little blue ball we call our home faces. I revealed myself to you because we either work together or fall alone."