Justice Society Headquarters.
At the center seat of the round table sat the current leader of the Justice Society — Hourman, the Time Hero. Beside him were Doctor Fate, Wildcat, Green Lantern, Black Adam, Shazam, the Amazon Queen, Mid-Nite, and The Flash, each occupying their respective positions.
At the head of the chamber, Batman stood in front of a massive screen, his expression grim as he addressed the room.
"This is last night's surveillance footage. The Robins tracked a Demons-Class entity from Gotham all the way to the West Coast. After its final kill, they managed to terminate it. But based on my analysis, this one was significantly different from the Demons-Class types we've encountered before."
Batman wasn't using any kind of voice modulator. His tone was soft, but his voice carried a rasp that echoed with exhaustion and gravitas. Everyone in the room was used to it. They all knew the man standing before them wasn't the original Bruce Wayne — but not a single one underestimated him.
"Could it be another scout sent by Darkseid?" Hourman frowned. In the last month alone, there had been multiple Demons-Class attacks reported across the globe.
These incidents had not only kept the Justice Society scrambling but had also triggered widespread panic. Many nations were on the brink of military mobilization. The United Nations had formally requested the Society to launch a full-scale investigation and provide answers — fast.
Among those present, only one person had ever directly faced Darkseid — Batman himself.
And back then, he'd suffered a crushing defeat.
If not for the intervention of Alex, that Earth would've been completely annihilated. That memory — that debt — was what made this situation all the more troubling.
"Personally," Batman said, "I don't think this one came from Darkseid."
He gave a subtle shake of his head, uncertainty flickering in his sharp gaze.
"Not from Darkseid?" Black Adam raised an eyebrow. "The Demons-Class bio-weapons — that tech is unique to Apokolips. If not him, then who?"
Batman's reply was cool and measured.
"You're misunderstanding me. The biological composition inside this Demons-Class… it's strange. Alien, yes — but not our kind of alien. It doesn't match anything native to our dimension. Which means…"
He looked at the others.
"I can't confirm its origin. At all."
"Strange composition? How so?" asked Doctor Fate, leaning forward with interest.
"It's not a material that should exist in our reality," Batman replied.
"At least not in any version of reality I've encountered. I've lived through three different universes — my original one, the Wasteland timeline, and this one. None of them contain any data or record of this kind of substance. But... I feel like I've heard of it somewhere before."
He stroked his chin, clearly deep in thought.
"That's not too surprising," said The Flash, shrugging.
"Darkseid is a New God from the Fourth World. Him creating exotic materials? It's practically a Tuesday over there."
But Batman didn't ease up. His face remained hard, grim as ever.
"No. I've been to the Fourth World. This doesn't match anything I saw there. I can't say for certain, but... something feels wrong. I need more time. There's something else going on."
-----------------------------------
The meeting adjourned. Batman, still burdened by unanswered questions, returned to the Batcave.
He'd expected someone — anyone — at the Justice Society table to provide insight that could unravel this mystery. But no one had been able to help.
Nearly everyone had pinned the blame squarely on Darkseid.
Given the rising tensions between Earth and Apokolips, it made sense. They were on the brink of all-out war. One spark, and the sky would burn.
And yet...
Batman couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper, more elusive, was at play. Something above even Darkseid — an unseen hand orchestrating from the shadows.
He marched down into the lab, where the dissected body of the Demons-Class creature — the one retrieved by the Robins — lay spread across multiple containment units.
Its tissues and organs had been carefully segmented, cataloged, and preserved in specialized glass cylinders.
Batman narrowed his eyes.
"This isn't right."
He slammed a series of analysis reports onto the table and stared at the data, frowning harder.
"This thing isn't from Apokolips. No way."
Just then, the soft squeak of wheels broke the silence behind him.
Batman didn't need to turn to know who it was.
He kept his eyes on the body and muttered: "You're up late. Shouldn't you be getting some rest?"
"Getting old. Sleep's not what it used to be," came the reply, tinged with quiet amusement.
Batman finally turned around.
"Bruce. Your body hasn't fully recovered. You should be resting."
The man before him was none other than the elder Batman from Flashpoint Earth-1 — the older version of Bruce Wayne.
Once the Dark Knight of a broken timeline, now confined to a wheelchair, ravaged by the years and battles past. But his mind... his mind was still as sharp as ever.
Old Bruce Wayne rolled in, a cup of coffee in hand. He offered it to the current Batman.
"You know better than to think that kind of advice would work on me. After all, we're pretty similar, aren't we?"
"I'm not like you," Batman replied evenly, taking the cup and sipping it without emotion.
Bruce didn't take offense at the cold tone. He'd lived that life; he knew what his younger self had been like. So instead, he shifted the conversation.
"I read the meeting transcript. You don't think that Demons-Class creature was sent by Darkseid. You think there's someone else pulling the strings?"
"I've studied Apokoliptian tech. I've analyzed their bio-weapons. But this one... it's nothing like the others. The material in its body feels more like some kind of unobservable element," Batman said plainly.
Bruce sat silently for a moment, considering that. He didn't dismiss the theory. Instead, he offered one of his own.
"Could it have been modified after the fact? Like... a second-stage transformation?"
"That's one of the angles I'm currently analyzing," Batman admitted, locking eyes with him.
"But it's nothing like Kryptonian bioengineering. I've seen Paradooms. This isn't that. This thing wasn't just modified. I suspect it was reshaped — by some kind of energy."
Bruce's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You mean corrupted?"
He clarified after a beat.
"Don't look at me like that. Alex once mentioned facing a kind of corruption — something invasive and all-consuming. Said it was his greatest challenge across multiple realities."
"But corruption only affects cognitive function. It doesn't rewrite DNA. It doesn't restructure matter on this scale… unless—" Batman hesitated, his voice dropping.
"Unless something has already infiltrated my mind, altered my perception. But here's the thing… I've seen something like this before."
Bruce sat forward.
"Where did you see it?"
Batman sighed.
"That's the problem. I don't remember."
The lab went eerily silent.
Two Batmen. Different universes. But each knew — forgetting something important was not something they did lightly.
To make Batman "forget" something — that was no ordinary occurrence.
No one spoke for a long moment, until Old Bruce Wayne finally broke the silence.
"Have you talked to anyone else about this?"
"Only the Justice Society," Batman replied.
Bruce nodded slightly, thinking.
"Then maybe… it's time you talk to Pietro and Kara. They've spent a long time with Alex. If anyone's seen something like this, it'd be them."
Batman paused, clearly considering the suggestion. After a few seconds, he nodded.
"I will."
Just then, a ripple of violet energy pulsed in the air — a portal appeared out of thin space.
Both Batmen turned their attention toward it.
Moments later, Alex stepped through, emerging from the glowing rift.
"I couldn't reach you for a while. Thought you left the Wasteland for something urgent," Old Bruce exhaled with mild relief, smiling faintly.
"Don't even mention it," Alex sighed, raising both hands in exasperation.
"This time it got messy. Even for me, it took a lot of effort."
But Batman's eyes weren't on Alex — they were fixed behind him, on the two men in white uniforms following closely.
"Aren't you going to introduce them?"
Alex gave a nod.
"Of course. These two — this is Batman, the one I told you about. And as for you two, why don't you introduce yourselves?"
The older of the two strangers stepped forward with a smile and extended his hand.
"Batman. It's an honor. I've heard a lot about you."
Batman disliked small talk. But reading the man's expression, he said nothing, simply raised his arm in return.
But just as their hands were about to meet—
Batman's instincts screamed. He flipped backward in an instant.
The stranger's palm struck like a blade.
Boom!
The impact shook the entire Batcave.
Before Batman could even land, the man twisted and launched a spinning kick, fast and brutal. Batman twisted midair, barely dodging — a near miss.
That was his limit.
The man's grin widened, eyes now gleaming with bloodlust as he prepared to finish Batman off. Suddenly, Batman's utility belt clicked — a tiny audio detonator snapped open.
SSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH!!!
A piercing high-frequency shriek filled the air.
The sheer sonic pressure shattered every glass object in the Batcave. Both white-clad men instantly clutched their ears, writhing in pain.
Seizing the moment, Batman rushed to Old Bruce Wayne's side and slammed a button on his wheelchair.
"No!"
Bruce's pupils shrank.
But it was too late.
The emergency launch system activated — the rear of the chair opened into a compact escape tunnel, sucking Old Bruce inside with a hydraulic hiss. His last glimpse before being whisked away: Batman's face — calm, resolute, unshaken.
.........
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