Wayne Manor.
Deep beneath it—the Batcave.
Bruce Wayne stood silently, a steaming cup of coffee in hand, watching over the shoulder of his loyal butler, Alfred.
Before them glowed a massive screen filled with scrolling data and surveillance feeds.
Tap tap tap!
Alfred's fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, and new information appeared on the display.
> "Master Wayne," Alfred began, his voice calm yet deliberate,
"I still haven't found any trace of someone like Homelander within Gotham itself… but—"
> "In two other cities, I did uncover something that might be related."
Bruce nodded slightly.
Homelander clearly wasn't a Gotham native.
If Alfred had found leads in other cities, that actually aligned with what little intel Bruce already had.
> "First—this one."
Tap tap tap!
Alfred entered a few more commands, and the main screen filled with new files.
Bruce scanned them, and his expression immediately hardened.
The reports detailed individuals who possessed extraordinary abilities.
Not official documents, of course—
but both Bruce and Alfred knew very well:
sometimes, unofficial data was far more reliable.
> "Where is this?" Bruce asked in a low, cautious tone.
> "Smallville—a small town near Metropolis," Alfred explained.
"Several years ago, a meteor shower struck the area. Curiously, the radiation or fragments from those meteors seem to have affected the local residents. Many reportedly developed strange abilities afterward."
Smallville.
Bruce quietly committed the name to memory.
> "And the second location?"
> "Central City."
> "About a year ago, a particle accelerator explosion at a major research facility there released a shockwave across the entire city. After the incident, dozens of people began exhibiting superhuman traits. We believe the explosion altered them at the molecular level."
Bruce nodded grimly.
Central City.
Another place added to his mental list.
> "And? In either city—did you find anyone matching Homelander's profile?"
Alfred hesitated, then slowly shook his head.
> "No, Master Wayne. His personal data is… blank. Completely. Not a single record. It's as if the man never existed before Gotham."
Bruce's brow furrowed.
Since the day Alex—Homelander—had arrived in Gotham, Bruce had been digging into his background.
Weeks had passed, and he still had nothing.
No history, no connections, no trace.
That frustrated Bruce deeply.
He had sworn to find a way to counter Homelander—
yet right now, he didn't even know who or what he was facing.
A rare sense of defeat flickered in his chest.
---
> "May I offer my opinion, sir?" Alfred said softly, breaking the silence.
"Why not just… let this go? You yourself said he's only staying in Gotham temporarily. If that's true, can't we just wait for him to leave?"
Bruce shook his head.
> "As long as he remains in Gotham, he's a threat. I can't just sit by and do nothing."
> "And even if he does leave—who's to say he won't come back? The only real solution is to find a way to stop him."
---
> "Good luck with that, Bruce."
The sudden voice sent shockwaves through the cave.
Both Bruce and Alfred froze.
That voice—
it wasn't Alfred's.
And no one else should have been able to get in here.
Whish—!
They turned instantly—
and there he was.
A tall figure, standing casually in the middle of the Batcave,
his hands behind his back, his expression almost amused.
He looked like he was visiting an old friend's house.
Homelander.
Bruce's face darkened instantly, his voice low and controlled:
> "Homelander…"
This was the most secure place in Gotham.
No one—not even members of the Justice League—could enter unnoticed.
Yet Homelander was standing there as if he had simply walked in through the front door.
Even worse—neither Bruce nor Alfred had sensed his arrival.
That realization hit harder than any punch.
---
> "I'm really touched, Bruce," Alex said mockingly, eyes sweeping across the large screen.
"Didn't expect you to care about me this much."
> "Why are you here?" Bruce cut straight to the point, voice sharp as a blade.
> "Oh, come on," Alex replied, flipping his hand over.
A small fragment appeared in his palm—gleaming faintly in the cave's light.
Bruce's eyes narrowed.
He knew this was coming.
Gotham had been quiet for two full weeks—no crime, no chaos.
Homelander had effectively made Batman obsolete.
Bruce had known this day would arrive,
but he hadn't wanted to face it.
And yet, here it was.
> "Forget it," Bruce said flatly. "I'm not helping you."
---
Whoosh!
The air itself seemed to darken as Alex's smile vanished.
An overwhelming, suffocating pressure filled the Batcave.
Bruce felt it immediately—
the sheer force of presence, like standing before a demon straight out of hell.
Even looking at him made your heart pound with primal fear.
> "Are you playing games with me, Bruce?"
Alex's voice was calm, but heavy enough to crush stone.
> "You may not fear me… but what about Gotham?"
> "Are you really willing to let this city bear my wrath?"
---
> "Homelander—please, give me the fragment," Alfred interjected firmly.
Bruce turned sharply.
> "Alfred—"
> "Master Wayne," Alfred said gently but resolutely, "forgive my boldness, but a wager is a wager. You lost. You must honor your word."
> "It's a promise… that we simply can't afford to break."
Alfred walked up to Alex, unflinching, and took the fragment from his hand.
Alex smiled faintly.
> "You know, Alfred—you're much smarter than your employer."
Bruce's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.
He hated every second of this—
but Alfred was right.
He'd made a bet.
And he had lost.
And no one—not even Bruce Wayne—had the guts to cheat this man.
One look at what Homelander had done to Gotham these past weeks
was enough to remind Bruce just how dangerous he was—
a man who acted without fear, without hesitation,
and without conscience.
A madman with the power of a god.
And if such a man decided to turn his fury on Gotham…
Bruce didn't even want to imagine the outcome.
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