> "One month."
"I'm giving you only one month."
"Don't even think about trying to fool me."
"Of course, if you'd rather risk Gotham's safety… I don't mind."
After leaving Bruce Wayne with those cold words, Alex didn't say another thing.
His figure blurred—
and with a boom, he was gone.
All that remained was a violent gust of wind that blasted through the Batcave.
Bruce and Alfred both felt their lungs tighten as the powerful air current slammed into them.
Their clothes and hair whipped wildly, as if someone had turned a massive industrial fan directly on them.
The two men stood frozen.
That sonic boom—
that blast of wind—
Was that really from a man running?
Just how fast was this monster?
The thought made Bruce's chest tighten. His dread of Alex reached a new peak.
---
> "Alfred," Bruce finally murmured after a long silence,
"are we really going to help Homelander find those other fragments?"
He sighed deeply.
Every part of him rebelled against the idea.
But against someone like him, Bruce knew—
he couldn't afford to provoke Alex lightly.
Bruce Wayne wasn't afraid of dying.
But Alex had made one thing clear: if he refused, Gotham would burn.
And that struck right at Bruce's softest spot.
> "Master Wayne," Alfred replied helplessly, spreading his hands,
"at this point, do we really have a choice?"
Bruce fell silent.
He didn't want to admit it—
but Alfred was right.
When it came to Homelander, they had no options at all.
---
> "Actually, sir," Alfred continued after a pause, "this might not be entirely a bad thing."
> "You've been frustrated that you can't find any useful intel on him, haven't you? Well—this could be a lead."
Bruce looked up.
It wasn't just comfort—there was truth in Alfred's words.
That fragment.
What was it?
And why was it so important to Alex?
If he could uncover its origin, maybe—just maybe—
he could find a weakness.
Yes.
The fragment wasn't just a trinket.
It was intelligence.
A possible key.
A thread to pull.
And Bruce Wayne never ignored a thread.
After a long moment of thought and weighing every risk, he made his decision.
---
Meanwhile, in a luxury high-rise apartment across the city—
Alex sat lazily on the couch, his eyes half-lidded, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
> "Bruce Wayne shouldn't be a problem anymore."
He withdrew his focus, satisfied.
Bruce and Alfred thought he had left the Batcave for good—
but in truth, Alex had heard everything they said afterward.
Every single word.
Their conversation had played in his mind as clearly as if he were still standing beside them.
Exactly as he'd expected, Bruce Wayne was rational—
the kind of man who knew when he couldn't win.
Threaten Gotham, and even the Batman would compromise.
As for Bruce's plan to investigate the fragment, to dig for weaknesses…
Alex chuckled.
> "Heh. He can dig all he wants. It's not like he'll find anything."
The so-called system he relied on—no one could uncover it. Not Batman, not anyone.
---
> "Homelander?"
A voice called from behind.
Wrapped in a towel, droplets still tracing down her neck, Selina Kyle—Catwoman—peeked out of the bathroom.
Her sharp eyes, always alert, had caught the faint sound of him entering.
Most people wouldn't have heard it through the thick door and running water.
But she did.
She blinked, arching an eyebrow.
> "You're back already? That was… fast."
She had thought whatever Alex went to handle would take time.
But it had barely been ten minutes.
She hadn't even finished her shower.
> "Someone decided to be reasonable," Alex said casually, shrugging. "Makes things much simpler."
His gaze slid unapologetically over her figure.
> "You were showering?"
> "Obviously." Selina flipped her wet hair back, her lips curling into a teasing grin. "Want to join?"
> "Do you really need to ask?"
---
Let's just say the next two hours were… omitted for decency.
---
Later, dressed elegantly in a sleek evening gown, Catwoman adjusted Alex's tie with slow, deliberate grace.
> "Perfect," she said, stepping back with a satisfied smile.
"See? I told you to trust my taste."
She gave him a playful once-over.
There was no doubt—
standing before her was Gotham's most dazzling man.
> "So, Homelander," she purred,
"how do I look?"
Her eyes sparkled with that unmistakable 'go on, compliment me' expression.
> "Not bad at all."
Alex nodded approvingly.
Selina beamed.
> "Alright, then. Time to go!"
Looping her arm through his, she led him downstairs toward a sleek black sports car waiting at the curb.
Alex climbed into the passenger seat without hesitation, and Selina slid into the driver's side, grinning as the engine roared to life.
Vroom!
The car shot forward, leaving a streak of smoke behind.
They arrived moments later at a grand hotel in downtown Gotham.
On the top floor, an exclusive high-society gala was already underway.
---
Alex hadn't planned on attending—
but when Selina invited him, he figured, why not?
Beautiful woman, fast car, high society—
for once, it felt good to just… enjoy life.
The car door opened.
As Alex and Catwoman stepped out, heads turned immediately.
> "It's Homelander!"
"He's here!"
"Oh my god, Homelander came!"
The crowd erupted into chaos.
Celebrities, reporters, hotel staff—everyone froze in awe.
In Gotham, there was no one more legendary, no one more powerful.
He wasn't just a hero.
He was myth made flesh.
No one had expected him to appear at something as ordinary as a charity gala.
As the stunned crowd buzzed and whispered, Alex smiled faintly, giving a small, polite nod.
The energy in the room spiked instantly—
a frenzy of excitement rippled through the hall.
People suddenly realized:
on TV, Homelander might have looked arrogant and ruthless—
but in person, he didn't seem cruel at all.
Charismatic.
Composed.
Almost… approachable.
And that only made Gotham fall even deeper under his spell.
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