Reggie's House
The dull morning sun stretched through the window of Milo's room, casting soft light across the floor. Jaxon and Milo had stayed up all night. Milo sat in his computer chair, while Jaxon lounged on the bed.
"Well if I'm doing exactly what someone else was doing some years back I have to know how he got defeated and how Belmont somehow is connected." Jaxon said.
"Why won't Reggie just tell us?" Milo mused.
"Honestly now I don't know what to make of Belmont is he a good guy? Well I mean he did save Gotham from the dark ages but brutal oppression... that's just wrong." Jaxon huffed his forehead resting on his palm.
"Forget about thirty years ago Jaxon we need to focus on the now everything we're calculating should be based on today not thirty years ago and without the information about the last era our calculations can never be correct."
"Well... you got any ideas on how we can learn about The Reaper's Reign? I think that's what Reggie called it."
Milo's brow squinted as an idea flashed through his head. His head tilted upwards slowly as he made eye contact with Jaxon.
"I have an idea" Milo whispered eyes widened in excitement.
"For reals?"
"Yeah... I know a guy who sells past information on anything including Gotham you pay him and he tells you the whole story you need but I bet it would be really expensive."
Jaxon sprang up from the bed "Doesn't matter let's just carry a couple of bucks when we get there we'll discuss price."
Milo still sat quietly on the bed breath slow gaze steady.
"What's wrong?" Jaxon asked.
"Going there is gonna be quite a risk, as you already know the Government is actively trying to bury Gotham's past so we might be doing something very dangerous." Milo's voice hung in the air a silent warning of their proposed actions.
Jaxon stared intently at Milo. "I get it man, you don't need to come along just direct me there, if you're scared I totally get it, I'll just go in get the info get out and come back home."
"You seriously don't think it's gonna be that easy do you?" Milo warned.
Jaxon's shoulders shot up his head tilting rightward simultaneously. "I don't know what do you expect me to do I at least have to try."
Milo sighed. "You're gonna get us killed man" He sprung up from the bed. "Let's go"
"You sure about that."
Milo stared at him a warm smile on his face. "Yeah"
****
Inside a Dark Alley
The cool morning sun stretched across the city, but here in the alley, it was swallowed by shadows—two towering buildings flanked the narrow street, their sheer size blocking the light. At the far end stood an old black door, its wood chipped and punctured, bearing scars that whispered tales of Gotham's violent past. Three worn steps led up to it, crumbling slightly at the edges.
Jaxon and Milo's footsteps echoed softly as they came to a halt in front of the door.
"Well... this is the place," Milo said, his voice tight, nerves threading through each word.
Jaxon's eyes remained fixed on the door. Silent. Unblinking. Without a word, he stepped forward, climbing the stairs slowly. He raised his hand, fingers curled into a tight fist.
Knock!
His fist struck the wood—and the door groaned, then collapsed inward with a sharp DUN!, the sound ricocheting down the hollow corridor beyond.
What remained was a gaping hole. Darkness stretched deep inside like an open mouth ready to swallow them whole. Jaxon's instincts kicked in. His body tensed, not in fear, but in readiness—to attack, to move, to kill if needed.
Milo, however, froze. A shiver ran down his spine, breath catching as the blackness seemed to breathe back at them.
Then, Jaxon took a single step.
And vanished into the shadows.
"J-J-Jaxon?" Milo called out in a broken whisper.
Jaxon stood still in the suffocating darkness, his blue eyes flickering to life like twin flames. His breath was calm, his stance solid, every muscle coiled and ready. The silence pressed in around him, thick and eerie—but his instincts screamed otherwise.
Then—
"What the hell are you kids doing in my house?"
The voice cut through the silence like a blade. Gravelly. Sharp. Old but not weak.
Jaxon's head snapped around.
Standing behind Milo was a bald old man in a black jacket and faded jeans. Fire burned behind his eyes, and in his hand—steel. A pistol dug firmly into Milo's back.
Milo trembled, hands in the air, his whole frame shaking like a leaf. Shallow gasps stuttered from his lips as he tried to hold it together.
"I said—what are you kids doing in my house?"
The gun pressed deeper.
Jaxon's mind raced.
Shit. He's got Milo at gunpoint… Can I make it? No. No chances. If I miscalculate, Milo dies. I can't gamble with his life…
His fingers twitched. His jaw clenched. Every second counted now.
"Don't shoot!" Jaxon yelled, raising his arms as he slowly stepped out of the darkness. "We don't mean any harm. We just came to get some information about—"
"About what?!" the old man barked, voice like thunder, his finger steady on the trigger.
Jaxon took a breath. "The Reaper's Reign."
The old man's eyes widened—terror flashing across his face like lightning. "What… what did you just say?" he asked, voice suddenly soaked in dread and disbelief.
"I said," Jaxon repeated, locking eyes with him, "we came to get information about The Reaper's Reign."
The man's gaze dropped to the floor. His eyes stared blankly, lost in thought. How... how could this be… Is this a test? Is he testing me? No. No, these kids… they're spies… they're working for him…
His head snapped back up, now wearing a look twisted with paranoia. His grip tightened around the pistol.
And then—
Click.
"The both of you are do—"
BOOM!
A brown fist slammed into the old man's jaw.
His bald head snapped backward, eyes rolling white, blood spurting from his nose in a sharp gasp as he crashed to the floor with a sickening THUD. His body lay still, halfway conscious.
Jaxon stood tall, his stance unshaken, cold eyes fixed on the fallen man.
Milo flinched beside him, frozen, still processing what had just happened.
Jaxon turned slightly, voice calm. "Is this the guy we came looking for?"
Milo blinked, wide-eyed, finally glancing down at the old man on the floor. "I—I'm not totally sure what he looks like. I've never seen him before. But… since he called this place his house… yeah, I'd say he's the one."
Jaxon exhales. "Alright then."
His boot tapped against the cracked pavement as he advanced with slow, deliberate steps. Each movement cast a growing shadow that stretched and swallowed the trembling figure before him.
The old man stirred, blinking back consciousness. His eyes widened as he caught sight of Jaxon looming over him—tall, unreadable, dangerous.
Panic set in.
He began crawling backward in a wild, scrambling motion, like a rat trapped with no escape. His hands scraped the ground, legs kicking, breath coming in sharp gasps.
Jaxon stopped just short of him. The silence between them tightened like a noose.
He crouched slightly, voice low and steady, just above a whisper—deadly calm.
"So… are you ready to talk?"