April 21, 2065, 19:15
Batcave, Beneath Wayne Manor, Gotham City
Elias Kane stood in the Batcave, the Batsuit's HUD flickering as its power levels stabilized after the core's activation. The cave's systems hummed softly, the air heavy with the scent of ozone and damp stone. Damian Wayne, the cloaked figure revealed as the last Batman, stood before him, his own Batsuit scarred from decades of war, its cowl pulled back to reveal a face hardened by loss sharp features, graying temples, and eyes that burned with resolve.
"You've got guts, Kane," Damian said, his voice raw but steady, "but guts won't stop the Court. They'll come for the core and us."
Elias adjusted the suit's gauntlets, the neural link still feeding him Bruce Wayne's combat instincts. "I didn't sign up to be Batman," he shot back, his voice tight with adrenaline. "But I'm not running. What's the plan?"
Damian accessed a holo-screen, pulling up a map of Gotham. The core's pulse had disabled the Court's tech temporarily, but their forces were regrouping. "The Court's been pulling strings since my father's death," Damian said, his tone bitter. "They control the Enforcers, the gangs, even parts of the city grid. We hit their stronghold Old Gotham, beneath the cathedral. We end this tonight."
Zara Voss, still interfacing with the cave's systems, chimed in, her cybernetic eye glowing. "The core's signal can be amplified, but it needs a power source. There's an old Wayne Enterprises reactor in the cathedral district it could work."
Elias nodded, the Batsuit's weight settling on his shoulders. He glanced at Damian, the older man's gaze unreadable. Two Batmen, one city, one enemy. They grappled out of the cave, the storm above roaring as they swung into Gotham's neon-lit night, a fragile alliance forged in the shadow of the Bat.
July 8, 2050, 01:47
Old Gotham Cathedral, Gotham City
Damian Wayne, 36 and newly returned as Batman, stood on the cathedral's spire, the Batsuit's HUD scanning the Court of Owls' stronghold below. The cathedral, a gothic relic in Old Gotham, was a front for the Court's operations, its crypts hiding their council chambers. Damian had spent months tracking their movements, his League training merging with Bruce's tactics to form a deadly new Batman.
The Court had escalated their control, using Enforcer drones to enforce curfews, their bio-weapons keeping the populace in fear. Damian's mission was simple: infiltrate, dismantle, survive. He glided down, the Batsuit's cape snapping in the wind, and landed on a stained-glass window, shattering it in a kaleidoscope of color.
Talons swarmed the nave, their owl masks glowing, their blades flashing. Damian fought like a storm, his movements a blend of League precision and Batman's calculated fury. He hurled Batarangs, disarming two Talons, then grappled to a chandelier, swinging to kick another into a pew with a splintering crack. The Grandmaster, the same woman from the Narrows, stood at the altar, her feathered cloak billowing. "You cannot stop us, Wayne," she sneered, her voice echoing.
Damian charged, their duel a blur of steel and fury. The Grandmaster's owl-dagger slashed his chest, the suit sparking, but Damian countered, driving a stun baton into her side. She screamed, collapsing, but triggered a failsafe explosives detonated, the cathedral trembling as flames roared. Damian swung out, the Grandmaster's laughter haunting him as he escaped. The Court endured, and Gotham bled.
April 21, 2065, 20:03
Old Gotham Streets, Gotham City
Elias and Damian swung through Old Gotham, the city a neon-lit hellscape as the Court of Owls launched their counterattack. Enforcer drones buzzed overhead, their spotlights slashing the dark, while Talons flooded the streets, their white masks glowing like specters. The Court had activated a city-wide assault, targeting key districts to reclaim control after the core's pulse.
Elias landed on a rooftop, the Batsuit's HUD marking Talon squads below. "They're everywhere," he muttered, his voice tense through the suit's comms. Damian, beside him, adjusted his grapple gun, his movements precise despite his age. "They're trying to draw us out," he said. "We stick to the plan get to the reactor."
A Talon squad spotted them, their blades flashing as they grappled up. Elias fought, the suit's neural link guiding his strikes. He punched a Talon off the roof, then hurled a stun grenade, its flash scattering the rest. Damian moved like a shadow, his blade cutting through a Talon's armor, his style brutal but effective. "You fight like a scavenger," Damian growled, parrying a strike.
"And you fight like a killer," Elias snapped, dodging a venom blade. They pushed through, swinging across the district, the cathedral's spire looming ahead. But the streets below erupted—gangs allied with the Court set fires, their holo-signs hacked to display the Court's owl emblem. Gotham was burning, and the Batmen were its only hope.
March 12, 2055, 23:30
Court of Owls Council Chamber, Gotham Underground
Damian, now 41, stood in the shadows of the Court's council chamber, a cavern beneath Gotham's financial district, its walls carved with owl motifs. The Court had grown stronger, their influence choking the city after years of war. Damian had fought tirelessly as Batman, but the cost was steep Alfred's death, the Batfamily's absence, and Gotham's descent into chaos.
The new Grandmaster, a man in a golden owl mask, addressed the council, his voice a cold rasp: "The Wayne legacy ends tonight. We control the city its tech, its people. Batman is a relic." Talons stood guard, their numbers swollen by recruits trained in the Court's brutal methods.
Damian struck, a shadow among shadows, his Batarangs disabling the chamber's lights. He fought with desperate fury, his blade flashing as he cut through Talons, their blood staining the stone. The Grandmaster countered, his golden dagger venom-laced, and slashed Damian's arm, the poison burning. Damian staggered, but drove a stun baton into the Grandmaster's chest, the man collapsing with a scream.
The chamber trembled, the Court's forces retreating as Damian planted charges. He escaped as the cavern collapsed, but the Grandmaster's words lingered: The Wayne legacy ends. Damian's resolve hardened he would fight until his last breath, for Bruce, for Gotham.
April 21, 2065, 21:22
Wayne Enterprises Reactor Facility, Old Gotham
Elias and Damian infiltrated the Wayne Enterprises reactor facility, a derelict structure in Old Gotham, its halls echoing with the hum of dormant tech. The reactor, a massive fusion core, glowed faintly, its energy the key to amplifying Project Trinity's signal. Talons patrolled the facility, their owl masks glowing, their blades at the ready.
Elias hacked a security panel, the Batsuit's neural link guiding his fingers, while Damian stood guard, his blade flashing as he dispatched a Talon patrol. "Hurry, Kane," Damian growled, blood dripping from a gash on his leg. Elias activated the reactor, its glow intensifying, and Zara's voice crackled through his comms from the Batcave: "Link the core to the reactor it'll broadcast city-wide!"
The Court's forces attacked, a wave of Talons led by a new Grandmaster, a woman in a silver owl mask. "The Bat ends tonight," she hissed, her voice cold as steel. Elias and Damian fought back-to-back, their styles clashing but effective Elias's raw determination paired with Damian's lethal precision. Elias grappled a Talon to the ceiling, dropping it onto a generator, while Damian beheaded another, his blade a blur.
The reactor hummed to life, the core's signal pulsing through Gotham, disabling the Court's tech once more. Enforcer drones fell from the sky, crashing into the streets, and the Talons staggered, their systems fried. But the Grandmaster lunged, her blade aimed at Elias's heart. Damian tackled her, taking the strike, venom burning through his suit. "Finish it," he gasped, collapsing.
Elias slammed the core's override, the signal surging, and the facility trembled, the reactor overloading. He dragged Damian out as explosions rocked the building, the Court's forces scattering. Gotham's neon lights flickered, the owl emblems fading from holo-signs. The city was free for now.
March 13, 2055, 02:15
Batcave, Beneath Wayne Manor
Damian returned to the Batcave, his Batsuit scarred, the venom from the Grandmaster's blade slowing his movements. The cave's systems flickered, Oracle 2.0's voice soft: "You're dying, Damian. The venom is lethal."
Damian accessed Project Trinity, uploading a final command to the Batsuit's neural link a message for the future, for whoever would take up the mantle. "I failed you, Father," he whispered, his voice breaking. "But Gotham will endure." He sealed the cave, its systems locking down, and left, disappearing into the night. The Court hunted him, and he hunted them, a shadow fading into legend.
April 22, 2065, 06:00
Gotham Rooftops, Old Gotham
Elias stood on a rooftop, the Batsuit's cape billowing as dawn broke over Gotham, the storm finally clearing. Damian sat beside him, the venom neutralized by a stim-patch, his face pale but alive. The city below was scarred but breathing, its neon lights flickering back to life, free of the Court's grip.
"You're Batman now," Damian said, his voice quiet. "But I'm not done. The Court will return they always do."
Elias nodded, the suit's neural link silent, Bruce's voice gone. "Then we'll be ready," he said, his gaze hard. Two Batmen, one city, a shared legacy. They grappled into the dawn, the shadow of the Bat enduring, as Gotham whispered its thanks.