Hello readers!!! I know it's been a while since the last update, and I know some believe that this story is dropped. If you hadn't noticed, I've edited the previous chapters so that you can enjoy them without it sounding all whacky and know that i haven't given up on this story. For the past few months, I've hit a bit of a writers block not only in content but in my creativity. I'm still working on getting my creativity back so that I can write chapters on construct a path for Devin's journey that keeps you all entertained. I'm posting this chapter to reassure you all that i have not lost interest in writing this story. There won't be a chapter after this anytime soon which is why i encourage you all to be patient. if you decide this story isn't worth it, I still thank you for being with me up until now and I thank you for the comments because they've helped me improve my writing. please enjoy.
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The Pursuit tour through the rain-slicked arteries of the East End, a company of wailing sirens and tortured screams of burning rubber. A souped-up black sedan, a silhouette of jagged' edge and raw horsepower, wove through the midnight traffic with a lethal desperation. Leaving a trail of shattered side mirrors and terrified motorists in its wake.
Inside the cabin, the atmosphere was thick with the copper scent of adrenaline. 3 robbers sat amidst the chaos, their faces split into jagged grins as they white-knuckled heavy canvas bags overflowing with high-end diamonds and gold timepieces. Behind them, the flashes strobe of GCPD cruisers began to flicker, and the heavy pursuit under its image as a sedan's nimble, reckless navigation through the Debris-strewed alleyways.
"We're clear!" The driver barked, a manic edge to his voice. He slammed the gear shift forward with a metallic clank, The engine roared in response. "Once we hit the bridge, they'll never –"
THUD.
The sedan's chassis shuddered. The roof groaned under the sudden, crushing impact of a heavy, metallic weight that seemed to drop from the heavens. The robbers' laughter died instantly, replaced by a sharp, Collective intake of breath as their eyes darted towards the buckling ceiling.
"What was that? A bird?" one stammered, his bravado evaporating.
"In Gotham?" The other hissed, clutching his loot at his chest. "That sounded like a damn bowling ball!"
In the space of a single heartbeat, the vehicle's interior underwent a violent metamorphosis. A viscous, techno-organic anchor began to weep through the seams of the sunroof and the door frames. It was an oil, and it certainly wasn't blood; It was a complex lattice of obsidian and green Man-nights, pulsing with a rhythmic, low-frequency harm that vibrated through the chassis.
The circuitry proliferated with predatory speed, racing across the leather upholstery and bleeding into the dashboard like an invasive shadow. The digital clock flickered erratically before the numbers spun into a blur, eventually settling into the steady, haunting glow of a single green eye.
Panicked, the driver slammed his weight into the brakes, but the pedal remained immovable, as rigid as some were granted. The steering wheel wrenched itself from his grip, spinning with mechanical precision as deep emerald veins viewed directly into the car's central processing unit.
"The car! It's alive!" the passenger shrieked, his fingers clawed fruitlessly at the door handle that had already melted into the frame.
Suddenly, the speakers crackled to life, a synthesized, digitized voice–cold, metallic, and vibrating with authority–bypassed the radio entirely.
"Sorry boys, but I'm afraid your joyride just reached the end of the line." Devin quipped, his voice echoing from every speaker at once.
The sedan's engine didn't just roar; it evolved. The exhaust pipes shifted into glowing thrusters, and the tires turned inward as the car lifted inches off the ground, stabilized by a localized gravitational field. The robbers were pinned against their seats as Devin—merged entirely with the machine—took a sharp, ninety-degree turn that would have flipped a normal car.
The seatbelts in the car lashed out on their own and restrained the three robbers like a snake coiling around its prey.
"This is your captain speaking." The green eyes pulsed in a mockingly amused tone. "Please keep your hands and arms inside the vehicle as we make a detour. It is instructed to think about your life choices during this time. Next stop: GCPD Central."
With a final green pulse, the car accelerated back toward the flashing red and blue lights of the police line. Devin sensed the robbers' panic and the frantic beating of their hearts through the car's sensors. He had the jewels, the suspects, and thanks to his Upgrade form, he had the fastest ride in the city.
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Gotham City Police Department.
The department hummed with a frantic, relentless energy. Within its limestone walls, a constant stream of officers and increased blue maneuvered through the lobby, some worn from the graveyard shifts, others bracing for the night ahead. These were the men and women who stood as the final thin line between order and the encroaching shadows, bound by a grim, shared devotion to a city that never stopped demanding more from them.
All officers outside the building turned their heads in the direction of the rhythmic thrumming of an engine that wasn't native to Gotham. What they saw left them both surprised and alert.
The sight before them was a hovercraft that looked far more advanced than anything they'd seen in Gotham. The green circuitry made that saw on the vehicle made it look like something a person would only see in a movie.
On instinct, the police officers drew their weapons, aiming them at the hovering vehicle.
Before the officers could shout orders, the right doors of the futuristic car opened, revealing three men wearing ski masks and restrained by the seatbelts of the car.
"We've arrived at our destination." The digitized voice came from the car in a reassuring tone. "Please remove your seatbelts and exit the vehicle in an orderly fashion."
Before the robbers could protest, a green pulse was shown under their seats. One by one, the robbers were spring-ejected out of the car and landed unceremoniously in front of the police officers, who now showed stunned expressions. The bags of stolen items were also deposited onto the ground.
A heavy silence followed, broken only by the cooling hum of the hovercraft. Finally, one officer lowered his weapon slightly, his brow furrowed. "Wait a minute." He muttered to his partner. "Didn't we receive a dispatch about a three-man heist in progress?"
The tension broke not with a bang, but with the rhythmic click of heels against stone. A man in a light brown trench coat stepped out of the precinct shadow. The officers snapped to attention as he approached. Though the years had carved Went into his face and turned his hair to silver, His presence remained commanding. He possessed the weary, piercing eyes of a man who had stared into the deepest obits Gotham had to offer and refused to blink.
Jame W. Gordan. Or, as the city and its shadows knew him, Jim Gordon.
Jim's looks the scene with something approaching surprise but maintained a practical expression.
"Well." Jim spoke, his tone grounded. "This certainly is something new. Usually, Batman drops off the crooks after he's scared them to death."
"But I'm guessing this has nothing to do with Batman." his gaze was analytical.
The car shuddered, the green circuits receding from the paint job as Devin removed himself from the frame. He stood tall in his Upgrade form as he rose off the sedan, his single eyes glowing with a faint hum.
"Keep the change, Commissioner." He gestured to the three robbers, who now had their hands up since they were surrounded by cops.
Before anyone could say anything else or ask questions, Devin liquified into a puddle and vanished into the Gotham sewer grate.
The officers were stunned, not sure what to say about what they just saw.
"C… commissioner." An officer broke the silence, his voice shaky. "What was that?"
Gordon let out a sigh before pulling out his handcuff.
"I don't know." He replied, slapping the cuff on one of the crooks. "But it seems to be one of the good guys. For now."
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The Batcave
The interior of the Batcave was a cathedral of cold blue light and the rhythmic whirring of supercooled processors. Batman sat motionless in the center of the workstation, his cape pooled around him like a lake of ink.
On the massive primary monitor, a grainy, high-speed loop of the East End chase played for the twentieth time.
"Computer." Batman's voice was a low rasp, cutting through the hum of the cave. "Isolate the moment of impact. Enhance the spectral signature of the contact point."
The image zoomed in on the roof of the black sedan. It showed a shimmering, liquid-like mass dropping from a gargantuan height—not with the bone-shattering force of a physical body, but with the fluid grace of a falling drop of mercury. As the mass hit the metal, it didn't just sit there; it fused.
"Analysis complete." The Bat-computer's neutral voice echoed. "The substance is composed of a self-replicating, techno-organic lattice. It is neither biological nor purely mechanical. It possesses a high-frequency electromagnetic pulse that is currently overriding the sedan's native electronics."
Batman leaned forward, his white lenses narrowing as he watched the green circuitry race across the car's chassis. It looked like a nervous system for a machine.
"Cross-reference this with the 'Red Behemoth' from the construction collapse and the 'Fire Entity' from the Midtown fire." Batman commanded.
A series of windows cascaded across the screen.
COMPARISON REPORT:
Kinetic Energy: Inconsistent.
Thermal Output: Inconsistent.
Genetic Markers: Undetectable.
"There is no shared DNA or chemical residue." Batman muttered to the empty cave, his gloved fingers tapping a rhythmic beat on the console. "But the timing is too precise. They aren't three separate invaders. They're a vanguard."
He paused the footage on the moment the creature rose from the car to face Commissioner Gordon. The single, glowing green eye seemed to stare through the camera, as if it knew it was being watched by more than just the GCPD.
The white lenses of Batman's cowl narrowed as he looked at the images of the creatures. He didn't know how they got here or where they came from.
That unsettled him.
Batman didn't like the unknown. Let alone ones that appeared in his city.
For now, he would observe, gather more information on their capabilities, and form contingencies.
---
Devin's warehouse.
The outside of the warehouse looked like all the other abandoned, unused warehouses; rusty and looked like it was going to fall apart. The inside, however, was different. The first thing was the floor. It was no longer dusty and stained from years of exposure to the elements; the concrete looked fresh, almost brand new. Next was the interior walls. They were lined with what looked like new steel. The ceiling also had bright LED lights. On one side of the wall was a set of small drones lined up, ready to clean any dust that was visible to the human eye.
Devin stood at the center of the warehouse, his posture calm and his eyes focused. He knelt, placing his hand on the steel beam in front of him. The texture was cold and very dense. The metal crawled up his arm before fully encasing his body in steel armor.
He stood up and clenched his fist, feeling the strength that was coursing through his body. No matter how many times he did it, the feeling was exhilarating. His abilities as an Osmosian gave him strength that would've been impossible for a human.
Devin brought his arm up. The metal around his wrist rippled before extending and taking the form of a lance. He swung the weapon, testing its weight.
Swiss.
Thrust.
Slash.
The blade felt weightless thanks to his enhanced strength in his current state.
Devin then retracted the blade, his arm returning to its normal shape before emerging once more, this time coalescing into the brutal, heavy mass of a spiked mace.
The mace then changes to a mallet. He brings that mallet down on a nearby cinder block, shattering it into pieces.
The drones immediately scurry over to clean up the mess.
"So far, so good." Devin muttered to himself, satisfied with his control so far. He then changed the hammer into a scythe, then a sickle, giant scissors, and after that, a battle axe. And finally, just for laughs, he changed his arm into a gold club.
His hand returned to its original shape. The weapons and objects he just manifested are the ones he remembered Kevin often using in battle.
"Let's try something new." Devin spoke, focusing his will on the metal covering his fist. In an instant, spikes appeared in his knuckles.
"It worked!" his eyes widened with wonder. He got into a boxing stance and started throwing punches with controlled force.
After that, his fingers extended, becoming razor-sharp claws. He then decided to try out a different set of claws. He clenched his fist and three distinct blades emerged from between his knuckles.
"Wolverine claws!" Devin said with a giddy smile. He figured manifesting something like this was possible since he was just manipulating the metal on his body.
"Too bad adamantium does exist in this universe." He commented, thinking that metal would be a huge boon to his arsenal.
The metal receded from his body, returning him to his normal human appearance.
Devin then turned his attention to a small flip phone. He found this phone by a trash can a few days ago. The color on the plastic was faded; the screen was cracked, and even a few of the buttons were missing. But it was still operational. To most, it was trash, but for Devin, it was the perfect item he needed for what he was about to do.
He unplugged the phone from the charger. The battery icon registered as 25%.
"Perfect." He muttered and focused his powers not on the device but on the electricity coursing through it. Faint sparks of electricity began to move from the device to Devin's hand and into his body. The battery on the phone quickly went from 25% to 0%.
Devin put the phone down and focused while the energy coursed through his body, filling him with strength.
This was a controlled scenario. He wanted to start building his mental defenses in the event he had to or accidentally absorb energy and wanted to be prepared. Because the amount of energy he absorbed was so minuscule, he didn't feel any loss of rational thought. At the very least, he felt a slight nudge in the back of his mind. Like how a person has a craving for something.
Satisfied with the test, Devin raised his palm towards a cinder block and released the energy. Electricity crackled between his fingers before finally being released.
A small boat of electricity shot from his palm and hit the cinder block. It didn't damage the cinder block but left a scorch mark.
The results pleased him because he was getting an understanding of his powers and how to control them.
He looked at his palm, remembering the flow of energy.
"I will not let this power control me." he spoke, his voice filled with conviction.