Chapter 169: Batman and Venom Robin
Dr. Otto Octavius had successfully achieved stable nuclear fusion on North Brother Island. Now Batman would need to collaborate with him as Peter Parker, commercializing this clean, virtually limitless energy source for practical applications across every sector imaginable.
Unlike Tony Stark's arc reactor, Otto's technology operated fundamentally differently. Stark's miniature reactor was essentially a super battery—powerful but finite. Back in that Middle Eastern cave, Tony had calculated his first-generation prototype could power the Mark I armor for only fifteen minutes of operation.
Granted, the Mark I's abysmal energy conversion rate had wasted ninety-nine percent of that power. Since returning from the desert, Tony had upgraded both the reactor and his armor, improving maximum output, balancing stable power delivery, and optimizing energy conversion efficiency.
But at its core, Stark's arc reactor remained a battery—albeit an extraordinary one.
More critically, the miniature reactor's portability created a severe vulnerability. Mass production would inevitably lead to weaponization. Even the massive arc reactor beneath Stark Tower served primarily as proof of concept and corporate branding—a demonstration of technical prowess and future direction rather than practical infrastructure. Neither version could support widespread public deployment.
Otto's artificial sun faced none of these limitations. It couldn't be weaponized. Period.
The tokamak device maintained such perfect stability that catastrophic failure was physically impossible. If containment ever failed, the fusion reaction would simply extinguish within thirty minutes. No explosion. No meltdown. Just... darkness.
This was precisely why Batman had never interfered with Otto's dream—why he'd provided funding and facilities without hesitation. After successful testing, Batman and the three scientists had run conservative calculations accounting for every safety margin.
A single artificial sun could power all of New York City.
This transcended Batman's mission parameters. It was Peter Parker's responsibility now. Parker Industries would commercialize the technology, converting thermal energy to electricity through heat exchangers or steam turbines, distributing power to homes and businesses throughout the metropolitan area.
Otto would be awake all night. So would Batman.
Since his arrival in this world, Batman hadn't truly rested. Before acquiring the Batmobile, he'd occasionally allowed himself brief mental relaxation during taxi rides between New York's boroughs. Nothing more.
Otherwise, Batman employed self-hypnosis techniques—shutting down half his brain while the other hemisphere remained operational. The Arkham suit's integrated systems provided electrical muscle stimulation to combat fatigue. Oracle AI continuously monitored his physiological status, following Batman's custom nutritional protocols to maintain peak performance.
After all, this body wasn't his own. It belonged to Peter Parker—Aunt May's "baby tiger," as she'd called him with such warmth. Batman refused to return this borrowed vessel damaged or diminished when he finally found his way back to Gotham. He couldn't face May knowing he'd failed Peter.
Deep into the night, Batman patrolled Hunts Point and Brooklyn, treating street-level crime suppression as active recovery before returning to Rikers Island.
The containers holding the Batwing prototype had arrived during the day.
Now Batman stood before eight massive shipping containers, considering the logistics briefly before speaking:
"Robin."
Venom had been hidden within Batman's body. At the summons, its head immediately emerged from behind Batman's shoulder:
"Dad?"
"I need your help." Batman's voice remained low and controlled.
Venom's eyes practically glowed with enthusiasm. Without hesitation, the symbiote mass rippled across Batman's entire form, coating him completely in living darkness.
Batman had been preoccupied with other matters recently, allowing minimal interaction with his newly designated Robin. He understood the psychological impact of neglect on developing minds—how it bred self-doubt and rebellion. He'd learned that lesson through painful experience.
Therefore, even though Batman possessed sufficient strength to transport all eight containers to Bat Island alone, he'd summoned Venom deliberately. He needed to maintain Venom's mindset as "Batman needs me" rather than allowing it to shift toward "I need to prove myself to make Batman need me."
"Dad, what should I do?"
Venom's mood was practically euphoric. These past several days had consisted entirely of watching educational programs Batman carefully curated, and riding along attached to Batman's body with no opportunities for meaningful contribution. Even during recent criminal encounters, Venom had wanted to engage but remained obediently passive without direct orders.
Finally hearing Batman's call, Venom was ready to demonstrate its capabilities.
"Use your tendrils to bind all eight containers together. Then help me carry them to Bat Island." Batman's instructions were precise.
FWOOSH!
The moon hung high overhead. Beneath its pale light, thirty-two massive tentacles suddenly erupted from Batman's form.
Batman had twice battled entities beyond human comprehension—creatures properly called "Old Gods" or "Outer Gods." Once after being displaced to nineteenth-century Gotham. Again when a mirror city manifested beneath modern Gotham, formed from the trauma-fed delusions of Arkham Asylum's founder.
Now, with thirty-two thick, writhing black appendages extending from his body, Batman resembled those very entities he'd once fought. Under the moonlight, the sight was profoundly alien and unsettling.
But Venom saw it differently. It thought they looked absolutely awesome.
"Dad, we got even stronger!"
Venom could sense Batman's increased power compared to their previous fusion. To Venom, Batman seemed to grow stronger every single day—already omnipotent and somehow still improving.
Thirty-two tendrils organized themselves into groups of four, each quartet seizing one massive container. They lifted all eight simultaneously into the air, stacking them into a single tower.
"Robin, hold them suspended. Can you maintain that?" Batman asked.
"Of course."
Venom proved as good as its word, hoisting the tower of containers above Batman's position.
Even with Venom bonded, Batman's physical dimensions remained unchanged—unlike Eddie Brock, who'd transformed into a three-meter monstrosity. This created a striking visual contrast: beneath eight stacked containers, Batman's form appeared impossibly small.
Yet this ant-sized figure effortlessly supported the entire mass. His knees bent deeply, coiling with power before launching skyward with the containers overhead.
BOOM!
The ground shook with seismic force. Batman had released the full eighty-ton capacity of his Venom-enhanced state in one explosive movement, hurling himself and his cargo into the night sky.
Carrying eight containers rendered conventional cape-gliding impossible. The fabric's surface area was hopelessly inadequate—it could barely wrap around Batman's torso, much less provide meaningful lift.
But Batman had Venom Robin.
As Batman reached his apex and gravity began reasserting control, symbiote material spread rapidly outward like a spider's web, enveloping the stacked containers. The mass continued expanding, inflating into an enormous parachute canopy—shaped like a bat, naturally—that caught the wind and drifted steadily toward Bat Island.