Doris finished her assessment of the attempted break-in into Section 14
and sent her findings onto Lex. All the evidence all led her to one conclusion:
There is a mole in LexCorp. No way this person gets this far without help.
The Break-In would've worked perfectly accept for that Doris had implemented certain security protocols that only she and Lex knew about, and a hidden camera. A camera that clearly showed: Lois Lane.
Oh, who did you meet my blue-eyed son?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
US Attorney Damon Matthews stood on the steps of the Gotham County Courthouse. Newspaper reporters, TV cameras, and radio microphones were all surrounding him as he announced his intention to launch an investigation into the Gotham City Police Department and the Gotham District Attorney's office. Matthews fixed a finger across the street at the GCPD building and promised he would shed the light of the law on the nest of vipers that thought they owned the town.
The focal point of his investigation would be corruption and graft. At his side, looking stern and indifferent, was FBI agent Kate Spencer. The two of them, Matthews said, would lead the charge and succeed where the cops, politicians, attorneys, and vigilantes had failed: The two of them would take back Gotham for the people.
Across the street, a beaten and bruised Edward Nygma watched from the entrance into the GCPD building. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. When he went to light it, he noticed that his hands were shaking.
I met a young child beside a dead pony
I met a white man who walked a black dog
I met a young woman whose body was burning
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow
I met one man who was wounded in love
I met another man who was wounded and hatred
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard
And it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
Oswald Cobblepot watched the last shreds of Hugo's files on Bruce Wayne turn into ashes in a trash can.
Sorry Wayne you're not worth it anymore. I've got a flying rodent to kill.
His sources in the DA's office and Police Department all confirmed it: Batman was not a myth he was real. Oswald knew it would only be a matter of time before Batman and him would cross swords.
He hated getting involved directly, but he knew what had to be done as he sent out a coded e-mail to several associates within his network:
1 Billion to the one who kills the Bat!
And what'll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
And what'll you do now my darling young one?
Orin of Atlantis. Born a blight onto the seas themselves. Raised as a creature of the deep. Championed as a brave warrior to the people of Poseidonis. He had held alot of titles over the course of his comparatively short life, but he had since garnered a new one. He who murdered of the God of the Seas. It was not a well taken thought that raced across his mind as he slowly floated up to Poseidon's remains, knowing that no life was left within the massive body. He knew that if he tried to move it, it would only be considered further sacrilege.
All that was left to salvage was his trident, a symbol of the Sea God's power. Realizing that it could be of use, at least to offer in return to those who would demand retribution for this ultimate of crimes, Aquaman wrenched the weapon from Poseidon's dead hand and surveyed it in his own, noticing it had instantly become smaller. Looking upon the body in silence, Orin simply closed his eyes and swam away, leaving the late Poseidon to his subjects - the marine life that surrounded his body.
There is nothing more to do here.
Even as Aquaman swam off into the distance to rejoin the party of King Iquila's waiting soldiers, who were only just recuperating from Ocean Master's unforgiving attack, there was still someone that lurked at the scene of Poseidon's death. A young follower of the temple of Poseidonis who had been out and about when he knew he shouldn't have been. Kaldur'ahm swam up to the dead Sea God and gasped, unable to handle such a sight. Then turned to the visage of his killer in the far distance, his eyes running over with rage.
Sacrilege!
He would have revenge for his fallen God.
He would make Aquaman suffer the blackness of the seas.
I'm a-goin' back out 'fore the rain starts a-fallin'
I'll walk to the deepths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are a many and their hands are all empty
"Please don't do this. I beg you."
In the span of several months, the influence of Oberon Sexton's church had been growing steadily into The Narrows. The congregation of several hundred was now reaching the thousand mark, and it seemed like almost half of Gotham had at least attended one service. Sexton's reputation as a victim of tragedy was also now making headlines as a story of triumph, commended for bringing back what seemed to previously be a lack of faith and religion in Gotham City. He was practically ontop of the world with his success. Until he realized that the peverbial rug was being pulled out from under him.
"I know this was always the plan, I know that. I know what you wanted from me, and I delivered. But I need more time to gather them. I need more control!"
"More control? Why my boy, you've had control over them from the very start! I've seen what the device can do, and it more than makes up for our pitiful situation."
"But you don't understand, I can give you even more! Every day that the church opens, it seems like there are twice as many in the congregation as the last. I can give you your army, I just need the time!"
"Oh, I think you've been given plenty of time. Or do I need to remind you of how long this operation has been under the table because of your... interests?"
Sexton began to eradically pace the hotel room that he was staying in, his hands beginning to sweat under the gloves of the outfit that helped to cover every inch of him.
"I know. I know. I've failed you before, and I know that you have every right. Every reason. But this is..."
"This is how it's got to be, 'Oberon'. The final gag has got to be put in place soon. Otherwise, we'll never get it up and running in time!"
"But..."
Suddenly, Sexton dropped the phone, feeling an incredible amount of pain hit his frontal lobe. Agonized, he stumbled onto his bed, feeling his mask dampen with the blood that seething out of his nose. Even as he tried to recover, he could still hear his employer's voice from the floor.
"If I have to hear another 'but' from you, I'm going to make you rip out your own eyes. Do you understand?"
"Y... Yes. Yes, I understand."
"Well, good! I'll be by tommorow night to give you the gameplan. Oh, and Sexton? Keep the faith. You're a priest, after all!"
Hearing a maddening cackle echo out from the other end of the line, Sexton buried his head in his hands as the call disconnected.
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
Where the executioner's face is always well hidden
"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for agreeing to see me under such taxing circumstances."
The crowd of press had been gathered outside of Arkham Island in order to hear Dr. Johnathan Crane's first public statement since an incident that had been keeping Gotham's media in a frenzy for weeks. Crane gave them a friendly smile and a confident swagger. What the press expected was a relatively routine assurance that everything was fine, that despite The Batman's efforts to interfere with their daily operations, the Asylum would run the same. What they got was something else entirely.
"Now, I'm sure that most of you feel as if you have been left in the dark regarding the actual events that occurred two weeks prior. My initial statement regarded the incident as minor at best. That assessment was false."
Suddenly, eyes began to turn. Some heads shot forward. Crane cleared his throat and indicated members of his staff, who had been quietly standing behind him for the duration of the conference. Some stepped forward on cue.
"I am here to verify the rumors. Yes, the vigilante Batman was responsible for the attack on Arkham. While I did consider him to be a nuiscence that would be better left handled by the police, I have deliberated the incident and changed my outlook. Batman is perhaps the most infamous, but he is far from the first in a series of costumed schizophrenics that roam Gotham's streets. As a psychologist, I believe it is only a matter of time before the situation escalates. We as citizens cannot allow this to happen."
Crane leaned closer into the microphone in front of him, leaning on the podium as his words became noticeably more passionate in tone.
"That is why, in conjunction with the Mayor's office and Gotham City Police, I have pooled together my own resources to come up with a solution. To start with the many changes that are coming, I am now the permanent warden of the entire Island. And as my first act as warden, I am announcing the joint merge of Blackgate Penitentury and Arkham Asylum. The grounds will now largely serve as a prison island for the criminally insane, known now as Blackgate Island."
Several of the reporters looked at eachother with widened eyes, unable to comprehend whether or not Crane had the authority to assert himself to such a large degree. Particularly Alexander Knox, who stood up from the rest of the seated reporters as cameras began to flash on Crane.
"Not to state the obvious, Doc, but why would Arkham's board of directors allow this after happened? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I remember hearing that you're under investigation for the lapse in security that allowed the Bat into your nuthouse."
"First of all, Mr. Knox,", Crane sternly corrected.
"It was never a 'nuthouse', as you put it. Arkham was designed to treat those deemed unfit for society. Rehabilitation, which we will still provide for patients who are a danger to themselves."
"Right, but..."
"And to answer your question proper, let me ask one back. If our security had lapsed so much, why have none of our staff or patients become a casualty in Batman's attack? I'll answer for you. Because I had taken the measures nessecary to prevent such danger."
Gazing out at the curious eyes that had befallen him, Dr. Crane realized that he was controlling the crowd with every word. He just needed to keep talking.
"My predecessor had never properly maintained a security detail that would ensure safety. But I made sure that, after applying enhancements to the outdated code of conduct, Arkham would be the most secure facility in the city."
Crane looked back to Knox, who still clearly wasn't quite as convinced - but unable to argue a counterpoint.
"That is progress, Mr. Knox. And that is what I intend to apply to Blackgate Island's future."
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the color, where none is the number
In a secluded cabin in the mountains far outside of Metropolis, Lex Luthor and the other members of the Society eyed the new arrival with equal parts astonishment and caution. The thing that addressed them now was not human, not even alive; an impossibly advanced artificial intelligence, calling itself 'Brainiac.' And according to its story, the entity was ancient....and alien.
"I am a collector of worlds," it explained.
I gather all relevant and useful data from every planet I encounter, continually adding information into my database. I preserve what samples prove useful, and delete the rest."
"In other words, you're a threat to the entire planet," said Kobra.
"We should destroy you before you kill us all."
"That will not be necessary," Brainiac responded.
"This world is.....different. So many extremes, so many anomalies. When I first came here, my processors could not make sense of the input, and the resulting errors led to temporary insanity. However, once my bearings were regained, I saw that the errors were not with myself, but with this planet. Before any further action is taken towards its preservation or deletion, the errors experienced on this world must be corrected."
"Which means, gentlemen," said Luthor, stepping to Brainiac's side,
"Is that he's in the same proverbial boat as we-- to make the world a better place, by force."
"Correct," Brainiac said simply.
"I had no choice but to intervene during the execution of Luthor's plan, as it contained several flaws at the time. We have discussed those flaws at length, and now we have removed them."
"The Manhattan Project was small fish compared to what we have in store now," Luthor confirmed with a grin.
"Brainiac has the technological concepts we need, I have the manufacturing capabilities to build them. Ra's and Kobra, you have the covert connections to spread our equipment to every corner of the globe undetected. Humanite and Faust, you'll be on point to guard from influences telepathic and supernatural."
"And where exactly do I fit into this new and improved scheme of yours?" asked Vandal Savage.
"Your task will be to gather a team of metahumans in order to directly engage the Justice League, to keep them distracted from our true goals....and to exterminate them, if at all possible."
"You've been looking for a good fight for centuries, Savage," Luthor added.
"And you'll be an irresistible target: an immortal madman, leading a legion of doom to take over the world. Superman and his friends will be begging to fight you."
At that, Vandal Savage sneered.
"Now then, gentlemen, on to business. The business of global war, cataclysm, and finally, domination of the entire human race....."
And I'll tell and think it and speak it and breathe it
And reflect it from the mountain so all souls can see it
Ra's Al Ghul was still alive. Through all of the blood and pain, Batman had confirmed it. The Demon's Head lived! But why would he continue to let Bane think otherwise? After five long years on assignment in Santa Prisca, Bane had returned to the temple of the League of Shadows, only to find ruin and the death of his betrothed. Reports of the Demon's own death, combined with word that the only known survivor of whatever disaster took place was named Wayne, had led Bane on a long and arduous journey across the world for vengeance. He had needed to dig deep into the darkest corners of his soul to find the resolve to stay on course, but the deed was now finally done.
With the Batman gone and Gotham under Bane's thumb, he couldn't help but wonder if Ra's Al Ghul were watching. If so, Bane would find him, as the Demon had much to explain.
Still, the question formed on the lips of the monstrous Bane as he stood on Wayne's balcony and overlooked his new kingdom, still freshly stolen from the grip of the Batman.
"What now?"
Then I'll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin'
But I'll know my songs well before I start singin'
Edward Thawne stepped out of his car and surveyed the area with a worried glance. This was one of St. Louis' most rundown neighborhoods. It had taken him a week and a drive across Missouri to find it, but he had found what he was looking for.
Thawne climbed the steps of the former catholic church that had been converted into a homeless shelter and entered. He talked to the people in charge, and they pointed him to the boy.
He was resting on a cot when Thawne walked up, his long blonde hair was tangled and dirty. He was wearing old clothes that had been worn out years before. The young man shifted and looked up as he felt someone hovering over him.
"Thad Jones?"
"Who the hell are you?" The boy asked with a scowl.
The light caught the boy's face and Thawne had to stop himself from laughing out loud in delight. Despite his mangy blonde hair and facial hair stubble, his face was the spitting image of Bart Allen.
"My name's Ed," Thawne said with a kind smile.
"I want to talk to you about your family..."
And it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard
It's a hard rain's a-gonna fall.
TO BE CONTINUED IN SEASON III OF THE ULTIMATE DC RPG!