"Master Bruce, what have you found?"
"A silver coin."
Bruce examined the ancient-looking piece in his gloved hand. "The front bears the image of an owl—an Athenian Owl, to be exact. It first appeared on ancient Greek coins and symbolized wisdom, wealth, and power. This isn't an ordinary trinket."
He wiped away the grime, his voice lowering as he murmured a chilling rhyme:
"Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time.
Hiding in Gotham's heart, in shadows and in grime.
They're in your home, they're in your bed,
They're in your mind, they're in your head.
Never speak their name aloud…"
He paused, then finished in a quiet tone, "…or Talon will come for your head."
"Alfred," Bruce said through his communicator, "have you ever heard this nursery rhyme?"
There was a short silence before the butler replied, "Master Bruce, it's just an old Gotham folktale. A myth to frighten children. The Court of Owls doesn't exist."
Bruce's eyes narrowed. "I've seen this symbol before. A man turned up dead weeks ago—no record of him in any database, no DNA match, nothing. But he had an owl symbol embedded in his molar, identical to the mark on this coin."
He slipped the coin into a compartment on his belt and rose to his feet, his gaze fixed on Gotham's rain-soaked skyline.
"I know what you've been through," Alfred said gently. "You've been chasing ghosts for months, sir. Maybe it's time to rest."
"Alfred, I used to think I knew Gotham," Bruce replied, his tone heavy. "Now I realize I don't understand it at all. The more I uncover, the more blades I feel at my back. When that happens, I remind myself only one thing—stay alert."
His eyes hardened. "That man tonight, the one with the umbrella… I think he's connected to the Owls. He might even be one of them."
Bruce's thoughts replayed the moment. Adrian's movements, his calm strength, his cold eyes.
To take him down in an instant… impossible. If a man like that ever became an enemy, even Batman wasn't sure how to fight him.
Unmeasurable power. And a mind that seemed to see right through him.
Thunder rolled across the city as a bolt of lightning tore the sky open. Bruce looked up, his silhouette stark against the flash. "For a brief moment, I saw the truth of this city," he murmured. "Even if it was fleeting, it was enough."
---
Meanwhile, back in Crime Alley, the trio of young bystanders exhaled in relief as Batman disappeared into the stormy night.
"I think Batman must be really frustrated," said the red-haired girl, Holly. "He couldn't beat that guy."
The brown-haired boy shook his head. "The man with the umbrella wasn't a villain. He gave us a dollar, remember? A bad guy wouldn't do that."
The shortest of the three nodded quickly. "Davey's right. That guy was stronger than Batman. We should give him a nickname… like 'Umbrella Man'!"
Davey frowned. "Careful. Mr. Cobblepot wouldn't like someone else taking that title." He adjusted his rain-soaked jacket and looked at the unconscious thugs. "Still, Batman found a silver coin. Maybe we can find one too. Selina would be thrilled if we brought her something valuable."
Excitement flickered in their eyes. The night in Gotham was dangerous, but curiosity burned brighter than fear.
---
Across the city, Adrian walked the slick streets, the faint sound of his footsteps lost beneath the endless rain. He didn't need to look back to know Batman had taken the bait.
That coin had been left intentionally.
He smirked slightly. "You'll chase that trail, won't you, Dark Knight?"
With his intellect and instincts, Batman would dig into the mystery of the Court of Owls soon enough. And when the Owls noticed someone poking around their nest, chaos would follow.
Adrian liked chaos—especially when he was the one orchestrating it.
Even if Batman failed to uncover the truth, Adrian's trophies from the Metropolis branch of the Owl Council—silver relics and ornate insignia—all carried enough symbolism to draw their hidden counterparts into the open.
He looked forward to it. Watching predators devour each other was always entertaining.
"Let the detective and the Owls tear each other apart," Adrian murmured. "I'll be there to clean up the pieces."
As he walked, rainwater splashed beneath his polished boots. His sharp gaze lifted toward the bright building ahead—the Iceberg Lounge.
Its neon glow cut through the mist, one of the few beacons of light in Gotham's perpetual gloom.
The owner, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, better known as Penguin, was one of Gotham's most influential crime lords—a man whose charm, cunning, and greed had earned him both fear and fortune.
Adrian closed his umbrella, pushed open the ornate doors, and stepped inside. The warmth and luxury of the lounge contrasted sharply with the storm outside.
A young waiter in a tuxedo approached politely. "Good evening, sir. Do you have a reservation?"
"Of course," Adrian replied coolly. He raised the black umbrella slightly. "It was raining when I left, so I borrowed this. Odd, isn't it? Looks a lot like Penguin's own umbrella."
The waiter blinked, then exchanged a nervous glance with another employee. Before he could respond, the hostess at the front desk caught sight of the umbrella and immediately paled.
"Sir, please follow me."
Her voice was low and careful. She whispered something into her earpiece as she led Adrian up the staircase, her heels clicking against the marble floor.
Bodyguards in tailored suits watched his every step, eyes filled with suspicion. Their hands hovered near their weapons, ready for any sign of trouble.
Adrian didn't spare them a glance. The receptionist hesitated at the top floor, glancing back at him one last time before opening the ornate double doors.
"Mr. Cobblepot is expecting you," she said, then quietly left.
Adrian stepped into the dimly lit private room. A faint haze of cigar smoke curled through the air.
On a leather sofa sat a short, broad-shouldered man in a black suit and gray tie. His hooked nose and slicked-back hair gave him a birdlike appearance. Half of his face was cast in shadow, but his sharp eyes gleamed with intelligence.
When his gaze fell on the umbrella in Adrian's hand, surprise flickered across his features—quickly replaced by a cautious smile.
Penguin's fingers tapped lightly on the armrest. "I don't get many visitors carrying umbrellas like that, sir. You have my attention. Sit, please."
Adrian closed the door behind him, the soft click echoing through the room. "Thank you," he said, voice calm. "I believe we have some matters to discuss—matters concerning Gotham… and the Court of Owls."
Cobblepot's eyes narrowed, a gleam of intrigue sparking. "Oh? That's quite the claim. And why should I trust a stranger who comes to me on a stormy night, dripping rain and shadows?"
Adrian's smirk returned. "Because, Mr. Cobblepot… the storm isn't the only thing coming tonight."
A moment of tense silence passed. Outside, the rain hammered against the windows, but inside, the air was thick with the promise of schemes and the faint scent of danger.
___
Milestone
100 Powerstones = 1 Bonus chapter.
I've been getting little to no Powerstones, don't be greedy with them 😪