Late at night, Hell's Kitchen.
Unlike the quiet industrial stillness surrounding Parker Industries in Brooklyn…
Unlike the flashing police sirens cutting through other parts of Manhattan…
Hell's Kitchen felt different.
Here, on an abandoned football field buried beneath trash and broken glass, weeds grew wild through cracked concrete. Sewage pooled in shallow pits. The smell of rot clung to the humid air.
A low buzzing sound filled the darkness.
More than three hundred gang members stood gathered in the open field.
These were not small-time pickpockets.
Their records included murder. Arson. Armed robbery. Extortion. Fraud.
They came from Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens — some even from outside New York and beyond the United States.
Hell's Kitchen had always been a place where poverty, immigration tension, and desperation mixed together into violence. Three hundred criminals were not even the full number operating in this neighborhood.
These men and women had once answered to one ruler — the former Kingpin.
Now he was gone.
And they stood here, leaderless.
At the center of the field, under a flickering floodlight, stood The Cat Burglar.
At her feet lay the restrained body of Bullseye.
She had gained Kingpin's trust in recent weeks. That was why these criminals had answered her summons tonight. But confusion filled the air.
Kingpin had been arrested. The organization was fractured. Smaller gangs were preparing to scatter back into independent operations.
But she could not allow that.
Batman had given her clear instructions: organize them… and eventually let the police sweep them up in one controlled operation.
However — tonight was not that night.
Manhattan's detention centers were already overloaded. Criminals had been surrendering in waves since Kingpin's fall.
If these three hundred dispersed across Hell's Kitchen, chaos would return overnight.
She had to stabilize them first.
The Cat Burglar stepped forward.
"Look at yourselves," she said coldly. "Kingpin is in police custody, yes. But he expected this outcome. He will be released sooner or later."
Murmurs spread.
"Until then," she continued, "I will take control."
She pressed her boot down harder on Bullseye's ribs.
A sharp crack echoed.
One rib snapped.
Bullseye jerked awake, his eyes blazing with fury and pain. A towel stuffed into his mouth blocked his scream. Only muffled sounds escaped.
"Bullseye tried to abandon the organization," she said loudly. "This is what happened."
Another crack.
Another rib shattered.
The crowd shifted uneasily.
Some lowered their eyes. Others clenched their fists but said nothing.
Bullseye's hand twitched as she raised her foot again.
This time — she stomped on his palm.
Bone splintered beneath her heel.
The sound carried across the silent field.
"Anyone else want to leave?" she asked calmly.
No one answered.
The Cat Burglar knew she was bluffing. Kingpin might never return to power. But fear worked better than truth.
If someone challenged her tonight, she would have to defeat them publicly. She had prepared herself for that.
But none stepped forward.
They obeyed.
One by one, the hardened criminals became silent. Submissive.
After dismissing them, she remained standing alone in the field.
"What a pity," she muttered.
She had wanted someone to resist. To prove herself through strength.
Bullseye had always been stronger. Deadlier. Facing someone like him again without Batman's help would be suicide.
She needed growth.
"Next time," she whispered, staring at her gloved hands, "I need ranged combat ability."
Batman would not always be there.
---
Meanwhile, in Brooklyn.
Inside Parker Industries, Batman was still working.
Three names were written on the desk earlier. Now only two remained relevant in his mind.
Project Pegasus.
Project SWORD.
He had already finished outlining Project Goliath.
Now his attention focused on something far more significant.
Project Pegasus was a top-level research program led by S.H.I.E.L.D., with participation from the U.S. Air Force and NASA.
Its subject: the Tesseract.
The cosmic cube recovered decades ago from the North Pole by Howard Stark.
According to classified files, Pegasus research into the cube had accelerated American technological advancement. Even the Helicarrier depended on its energy research.
But S.H.I.E.L.D. studied it only as an energy source.
Batman saw something else.
Teleportation potential.
He remembered the disappearance of Red Skull and Captain America decades ago.
Both incidents involved the Tesseract.
Both ended in unexplained vanishing.
That was not coincidence.
"The Tesseract bends space," Batman murmured.
If it could tear open space…
Then perhaps it could open a path home.
The files revealed the Pegasus research facility was located in the Adirondack Mountains, New York.
Close enough to reach.
Before Parker Industries grew into a larger corporation, infiltration might be possible.
A temporary identity. A scientific consultant. A systems engineer.
Access to the Tesseract.
Then there was Project SWORD.
Established in 2005 after Nick Fury became Director.
Its purpose: monitor extraterrestrial threats and prepare Earth for alien contact.
The data confirmed something important.
Aliens existed in this universe.
Nick Fury had already encountered them.
Batman paused.
In a way… he was also an alien here.
His body might belong to this world.
His soul did not.
"I need to understand this universe's physical laws," he said quietly.
He began calculating theoretical models.
Was this another planet within the same universe?
Or a parallel world governed by different constants?
Only mathematics would tell the truth.
When he finished writing, he set fire to every page.
The flames consumed the paper until nothing remained but ash.
He collected the ash and later dumped it into the sewer system.
No trace.
No evidence.
No mistakes.
---
Dawn approached.
Batman changed clothes and became Peter Parker once more.
He purchased a copy of the Daily Bugle and sat inside a taxi heading toward Osborn Manor.
The newspaper headlines screamed about crime reduction and Kingpin's arrest.
But Peter ignored them.
He was thinking about one person.
Harry Osborn.
Harry had suffered two devastating blows in a short time.
First — the collapse of Oscorp's corporate empire.
Second — the murder and imprisonment of his father, Norman Osborn.
For an ordinary person, either event would be life-changing.
Together, they could break someone completely.
Batman had seen it happen before.
In Gotham, family tragedy often created monsters.
Pain became obsession.
Obsession became vengeance.
And vengeance created villains.
He would not allow that pattern to repeat here.
The taxi stopped at the gates of Osborn Manor.
Peter stepped out, adjusting his glasses slightly.
He looked like an ordinary young man concerned about a friend.
But beneath that calm appearance, Batman was evaluating possibilities.
Harry's mental stability.
Signs of paranoia.
Obsessive behavior.
Anger toward Spider-Man.
Hatred toward the system.
If those seeds took root…
New York could gain another masked menace.
Peter pressed the doorbell.
As he waited, he made a silent promise.
He would not allow tragedy to create another villain.
Not on his watch.
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