Rick Flag Sr. was already outside when dawn broke, seated in his wheelchair at the edge of the driveway. He hadn't slept much. Every sound of the quiet street felt sharper, heavier—like the calm before a war. This was it. His last chance.
A low hum rolled through the air.
A shadow passed over the road, and within seconds the Batjet descended silently, landing with surgical precision. The early hour meant no witnesses—just as Batman preferred.
The cockpit opened.
Damian Wayne stepped out first, already wearing his Robin suit, cape settling behind him as he walked toward Rick. He stopped a few feet away, eyes sharp but honest.
"Last chance," Damian said evenly. "If you want to back out, say it now. Once we leave, there's no turning back."
Rick Flag Sr. met his gaze without hesitation.
"I'm ready," he said. "There's no backing down."
Damian nodded once. No speeches. No reassurance. Just resolve.
He helped Rick into the Batjet, securing him carefully before taking his own seat. Moments later, the jet lifted off, vanishing into the sky.
The Hidden Base
An hour later, the Batjet descended into one of Batman's deepest hidden facilities—buried beneath layers of rock, shielding, and secrecy. The doors sealed behind them as they landed.
Damian helped Rick out again, guiding him inside.
Waiting for them were three figures:
Batman, standing with arms crossed, unreadable as ever.
Mr. Terrific, calm, analytical, his T-Spheres hovering quietly.
Ray Palmer, The Atom, visibly fascinated despite the gravity of the situation.
Introductions were brief and professional.
Rick Flag Sr. didn't waste time on pleasantries. "I know who you are," he said. "All of you."
Batman inclined his head slightly and gestured for them to move.
They entered a secured medical wing—white, pristine, and filled with technology decades beyond anything on Earth.
Batman spoke first.
"In four hours, you'll be in surgery. The upgraded Sandevistan will be implanted by removing your spine entirely. The procedure will take the entire day."
Rick didn't flinch.
Mr. Terrific stepped forward. "You should understand this clearly. Once implanted, this version of the Sandevistan cannot be removed. It is bonded to your biology. You will carry it for the rest of your life—and even after death, no one else will be able to use it."
Ray Palmer followed. "It's completely bio-compatible. No rejection. No degradation. Robin supplied us with materials we've never worked with before."
He activated a hologram, displaying layered schematics.
"Gronckle Iron," Ray continued. "Lighter and stronger than forged iron, highly heat-resistant, used as a protective outer coating. And for power—"
He paused, clearly impressed with himself.
"—a Dwarf Star Alloy core. Stable. Self-sustaining. It will last your lifetime without harming your body."
Rick exhaled slowly. "So I won't burn out."
"No," Ray said. "You won't."
Batman stepped forward then, his presence instantly changing the room.
"You've already heard the rules from my son," he said. "I'm going to repeat them. They are non-negotiable."
The room went silent.
"You will sign a binding non-disclosure agreement with the Justice League. You may tell the government that I was responsible for your recovery. You will never reveal my son's involvement."
"You are the only recipient. This technology cannot be replicated, hacked, or removed intact—not by the Justice League, not by any government, not by anyone."
"Recovery will take one month. One full day for surgery. Two days for stabilization. Twenty-seven days of rehabilitation and training to control time dilation."
Batman's voice hardened.
"You'll be able to activate the system fifteen times per day safely. You may push it to twenty—but that is the absolute limit. Exceed it, and there will be consequences. This surgery is dangerous. There is a real chance you won't survive."
Batman leaned closer, his eyes locked on Rick's.
"You accepted these terms when Robin offered them. I am asking again—do you still accept?"
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then Rick Flag Sr. answered.
"I do," he said quietly. "I know you're protecting your son. And I respect that. He's giving me a chance to get my life back—and I'm not wasting it."
Batman studied him, searching for hesitation.
There was none.
Finally, Batman nodded.
"Good," he said. "We prep you in three hours. Let's meet the surgeons."
Rick Flag Sr. rolled forward, fear tight in his chest—but beneath it, something he hadn't felt in years.
Hope.
Tomorrow, he would walk again.
Or die trying.