The air between them still hummed with tension as they walked, footsteps echoing off bloodstained steel and vine-choked concrete. Pamela's face burned faintly, the kiss still fresh on her lips. She turned her head toward Barbara, her voice low and threaded with warmth.
"I guess I can help you create a criminal empire… but we'd have to defeat other criminals too."
Barbara arched a brow, electricity flickering faintly across her fingertips as though betraying her mood. She didn't dismiss the idea outright.
Pamela's lips curved in a playful grin. "Well, we could be vigilantes then. Criminal vigilantes. We commit our own crimes, but we take out the scum we leave behind. That way, we don't harm innocents. We help them."
Barbara tilted her head, thinking aloud. "Well… technically, if we did it like that, I guess I could join you. After all, what if you try to take over Gotham—or rule a whole country? You'd need my help."
Pamela stopped mid-step and looked directly at her, a sly gleam in her eyes. "Oh? Are you already plotting our villainous future together? I didn't realize I suddenly had a girlfriend with so much ambition."
Barbara flushed crimson. A sharp pop burst from her hair, static flaring off in a puff of smoke. Yet her hair stayed immaculate, not a strand disturbed. "W-Who said I'm your girlfriend?" she stammered.
Pamela's voice softened, teasing but certain. "Nobody. But it's almost confirmed, isn't it?"
Pamela reached out and took Barbara's hand, intertwining their fingers. Barbara didn't pull away. Their joined hands swung lightly between them as they continued down the hall, the dim green glow guiding them toward a looming threshold.
The corridor opened into a cavernous chamber—the final laboratory. Pamela's breath caught. Row upon row of incubation tanks lined the walls, each one glowing with a sickly light. Inside floated half-formed human-seedling hybrids, their limbs twisting in the nutrient gel. Other chambers contained distorted wolf seedlings, their snarling jaws frozen in suspended animation. The air smelled of chemicals, sap, and despair.
At the center of it all stood Professor Jason Woodrue. His back was turned, his posture rigid, hands clasped behind him. Slowly, he turned to face them, a manic glint in his eyes.
"Well, well, well… Barbara Gordon and Pamela Isley." His voice oozed mockery. "Did you really think I wouldn't know you escaped?"
He stepped forward, lips curling into a grotesque smile. "No matter. I shall soon subdue you, Pamela Isley. And then… I will achieve the next phase of human evolution. My final form will perfect the bond between nature and man!"
With a flourish, he threw his arms wide, his voice climbing into hysteria. "Your futile escape means nothing!"
Barbara's jaw tightened. Electricity snapped across her clenched fist as she stepped forward, ready to unleash another blast. But Pamela caught her arm, halting her with nothing more than a sharp look. Barbara hesitated, her power coiled but restrained.
Then another voice cut through the chamber deep and commanding, mixed with menace.
"You will do nothing, Professor."
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