The rain didn't stop. In Gotham, the clouds seemed to have a personal vendetta against the sun.
I moved through the Narrows like a ghost—or at least, I tried to. Every step I took felt like I was wearing lead boots. My new muscles were so dense that I was actually cracking the pavement just by jogging. It was a learning curve I didn't have time for.
[Warning: Biomass integration at 12%. Viral strain is currently reshaping bone density to support Tier 1 motor functions.]
The System's voice was as cold as the rain. I didn't mind it. In a world where I'd just turned three men into paste, a little cold logic was the only thing keeping me from losing my mind.
"Find me somewhere to hide," I whispered, ducking behind a rusted fire escape as a GCPD cruiser screeched past the alley entrance. The blue and red lights flickered against the wet bricks, momentarily illuminating the blood still staining my shirt.
[Scanning... Localized structure identified: Abandoned Meat Packing Plant. 400 meters North-East. Structural integrity: 40%. Stealth rating: High.]
I didn't argue. I took off.
This time, I tried to control the output. I pushed off with my right leg, intending to just hop over a pile of trash. Instead, I launched myself six feet into the air, clearing the dumpster and slamming into the opposite brick wall with my shoulder.
CRACK.
The bricks shattered. I didn't even feel a bruise. I just fell back to my feet, shaking my head. "Right. 12,000 kilograms of force. I need to stop moving like a human."
I reached the packing plant in less than a minute. It was a hollowed-out shell of a building, smelling of old blood and industrial chemicals. It was perfect. I slipped through a broken window, my boots—stolen from the gunman—crunching on broken glass.
Once inside, I collapsed against a concrete pillar. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the "Viral Starvation" was back. It felt like my very cells were trying to eat each other.
"Syphonis," I gasped, my chest heaving. "What happened to the biomass I took?"
[Extraction complete. Commencing physical optimization. Warning: This process will be... uncomfortable.]
"Uncomfortable" was an understatement.
Suddenly, it felt like my skin was being pulled off by pliers. My bones began to pop and grind, lengthening and thickening. I doubled over, vomiting a thick, black bile that hissed when it hit the concrete floor. My muscles were tearing and re-knitting themselves in seconds, faster than a human eye could follow.
I grabbed a rusted steel railing to steady myself. The solid iron bent like a wet noodle under my grip.
SNAP.
The railing broke off. I looked at my hands in the dim moonlight filtering through the skylight. My skin was paler now, almost grey, but the veins were receding. I felt... solid.
[Evolution Progress: 15/100%][Ability Unlocked: Tactile Sensory Array (Passive).][Description: The Host can now 'feel' vibrations through solid surfaces within a 20-meter radius. Useful for detecting heartbeats through walls.]
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the pillar. The world changed. I could "see" the building through the soles of my feet. I felt the scuttle of rats in the basement. I felt the rhythmic dripping of a leaky pipe three floors up.
And then, I felt something else.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Heavy, rhythmic footsteps. Too heavy for a rat. Too controlled for a crackhead. They were coming from the roof.
I didn't wait. I moved. I didn't run like a human; I moved like a predator. I crouched low, my fingers digging into the concrete floor for traction, and lunged toward the shadows behind a row of rusted meat hooks.
A shadow dropped from the skylight.
It didn't make a sound when it landed. No grunt, no clatter of gear. Just the soft fwoosh of a heavy cape catching the air.
I stayed perfectly still, my heart rate slowing down instinctively. The T-Virus was cooling my blood, preparing me for a fight. Through my new sensory array, I felt his heartbeat. It was slow. Steady. Like a machine.
"I know you're in here," a voice growled. It wasn't the System. It was deeper, more menacing. It sounded like the night itself had found a throat.
Batman.
I felt a cold sweat break out on my neck. My otaku brain was screaming 'Run!', but the Viral King inside me was baring its teeth. I looked at my hands. I was a Prototype. I had 12 tons of striking force and a body that could spit out bullets.
But this was the goddamn Batman.
"The men in the alley," the voice continued, moving closer to my hiding spot. I could hear the faint whirr of a drone or a scanner. "They didn't just die. They were harvested. No blood left in the bodies. No DNA left in the wounds. What are you?"
I didn't answer. I reached down and picked up a heavy iron gear from a broken machine. My fingers bit into the metal like it was clay.
[Warning: Host detected. Target: 'The Batman'. Threat Level: Extreme (Technical/Tactical). Probability of victory in current state: 22%.]
"Only 22%?" I whispered to myself, a dark smirk pulling at my lips. "I like those odds."
I didn't wait for him to find me. If I was going to survive Gotham, I had to stop being the victim. I had to be the plague.
I lunged out from the shadows, not with a punch, but by throwing the five-pound iron gear with every ounce of my Super-Soldier-enhanced strength. It cut through the air with a sonic whistle.
Batman didn't even flinch. He tilted his head an inch to the left, the gear shattering a concrete pillar behind him. In the same motion, his hand went to his belt.
TWIP.
A batarang hissed toward my throat.
I didn't dodge it with grace. I just swiped at it like a cat swatting a fly. My hand caught the metal projectile mid-air. The sharp edges sliced into my palm, but before a drop of blood could even fall, the wound closed, the T-virus sealing the metal inside my skin for a split second before spitting it out.
I stood up to my full height, the moonlight finally hitting my face. My eyes were glowing a dull, hungry red.
"I'm the guy who's tired of being stepped on," I said, my voice echoing in the hollow warehouse.
Batman froze for a fraction of a second, his white lenses narrowing as he analyzed the instantaneous healing he'd just witnessed. He reached for a different pouch on his belt. Probably the "big guns."
"You're a bio-hazard," Batman said, his cape flaring out like the wings of a demon. "And I'm shutting you down."
I cracked my knuckles, the sound echoing like gunshots. "You can try, Bruce. But viruses don't stay down."
I didn't give him time to process that I knew his name. I exploded forward, my feet shattering the floorboards as I lunged for the man who ruled the night.