DC: All for One Chapter 13 — One Month: Part 3 (Patreon)

It was a few days later and Ethan lay on his back in the basement bed while Barbara straddled his hips, her knees pressing into the mattress on either side of him. She wore the same thin white tank top and cotton sleep shorts she usually changed into after school, the fabric clinging slightly to her skin from the heat building between them. Her red hair fell forward in loose strands that brushed his cheeks every time she leaned down to kiss him.

Their mouths met again in a slow, hungry motion that had started gentle but turned intense within minutes. Barbara pressed herself closer and deepened the kiss with a soft needy sound in the back of her throat. Her tongue slid against his, exploring his mouth, while her hips rocked forward in small circles. The friction of her shorts against the growing hardness beneath his sweatpants sent heat curling in her belly. She could feel herself getting wetter with every grind, her underwear soaked through already, her core throbbing with a frustration that had been building for weeks.

She had never wanted anyone this badly. The way Ethan moved beneath her, the solid lines of muscle under her palms, the strength in his hands when they rested on her thighs, it drove her insane. Every kiss made her pulse race faster, every brush of his fingers along her waist sent sparks straight between her legs. Yet he never pushed further. Never slid a hand under her shirt, never tried to take her shorts off, never even asked. 

It was maddening. 

The restraint only made her want him more, and the tension had pushed her to patrol as Batgirl almost every night lately just to burn off the ache. 

Barbara broke the kiss long enough to catch her breath, forehead resting against his while she panted softly. "Ethan," she whispered. She kissed him again, harder this time, and guided one of his hands from her thigh up under the hem of her tank top. Her skin felt fever-hot under his palm. She arched into the touch, silently begging him to keep going.

Ethan let her move his hand higher until his fingers brushed the underside of her breast. He could feel her nipple harden against his thumb through the thin fabric. From a purely biological standpoint he understood the mechanics; arousal increasing blood flow, sensitivity heightening, dopamine and oxytocin flooding her system. He catalogued the physiological responses even as he mirrored them back to her, rolling her nipple gently between thumb and forefinger until she moaned into his mouth.

"Please," Barbara breathed against his lips. "Touch me. I need you to touch me."

She reached down, took his other hand, and guided it between her thighs. His fingers pressed against the damp cotton of her shorts, right over her clit. Barbara gasped sharply and rocked forward into the pressure.

Ethan rubbed slow circles through the fabric, watching her face with clinical interest while she shuddered above him. Her hips jerked involuntarily, chasing the rhythm he set. She was soaked, so much so she could feel it through the shorts and the little desperate sounds she made grew louder with every pass of his fingers.

"Like that," she whimpered. "God, just like that, don't stop."

He increased the pressure slightly, added a second finger to bracket her clit, and kept the motion until her thighs started trembling. Barbara buried her face in his neck, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the cry that tore out of her when she came. Her whole body tensed, hips grinding down hard against his hand as waves of pleasure rolled through her. Ethan felt the rhythmic pulses against his fingers, noted the way her inner muscles clenched even though nothing was inside her.

When the aftershocks faded she collapsed against his chest, breathing ragged, skin flushed and damp. "Holy..." she whispered after a minute. "That was... wow."

She lifted her head and kissed him softly, still trembling. "Your turn," she murmured, reaching for the waistband of his sweatpants.

Ethan caught her wrist gently. "I don't need you to. I'm a little tired."

Barbara paused, searching his face. "You sure?"

He nodded.

She hesitated, then settled beside him instead, curling into his side with her head on his shoulder. One leg draped over his thigh while her fingers traced idle patterns across his chest. They lay like that in comfortable silence for several minutes. However Ethan noticed the subtle tension in her shoulders, the slight downturn of her mouth that most people would miss.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

Barbara bit her lip. She stayed silent for a long moment before she answered. "One of my friends hasn't checked in for a few days. His... dad hasn't really told me anything. I'm worried he might be missing."

Ethan turned his head slightly to look at her. "Have you mentioned it to your father? That he might be missing."

She shook her head. "It's complicated. I know Dad won't be able to help. I just have to trust that his father has it handled."

Ethan considered her words. Comfort was not his strong suit, but he attempted it anyway. "If he is missing, someone will find him eventually. People usually turn up."

The delivery came out flat, almost robotic. Barbara gave a small, sad smile anyway. "Thank you." She pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "I should probably head upstairs before Dad gets home." She slipped out of bed, smoothed her tank top down, and gave him one last lingering kiss on the lips before she padded quietly up the stairs.

Ethan remained on his back after she left, staring at the ceiling beams as he thought about the past few days. He had laid low for the past few days, mostly staying inside the Gordon house and spending time with Barbara. After he had taken out Robin he had stripped every tracker from the boy's gear, driven the equipment to an abandoned warehouse on the edge of Burnley, and rigged the place to blow. He assumed Batman would investigate when Robin failed to check in. He had also left deliberate evidence pointing toward Iron Row being responsible. 

He did not fully expect Batman to fall for the misdirection, but if he did it only proved the Dark Knight was not infallible. Either way, it bought Ethan breathing room.

He closed his eyes, ready to rest, when the air shifted.

His eyes snapped open.

A shadow loomed over him.

Before he could react, something heavy and fast struck the side of his head. The world tilted, then went black.

Darkness swallowed him whole.

...

Ethan woke up hanging upside down from the edge of a tall building in the middle of Gotham's financial district. His ankle was bound tightly with a thin but incredibly strong cable that looped around a steel girder protruding from the rooftop. Blood rushed to his head, making his temples throb, and the city lights spun slowly below him in a dizzying smear of red, white, and yellow. He blinked a few times to shake off the haze. His last clear memory was lying in bed in the Gordon basement after Barbara left. 

Then nothing.

He twisted his neck and scanned the rooftop around him. Empty. No one visible on the gravel surface or near the air-conditioning units. Even when he activated his expanded vision and shifted to x-ray mode, nothing showed up, no hidden figures crouched behind vents, no heat signatures lurking in the shadows.

Ethan exhaled through his nose. "Batman," he said quietly to himself. No one else would bother with the theatrics of stringing him up like this. No one else had the resources or the motive. Gordon wouldn't do it, and Harvey Bullock didnt have the skills or equipment. Iron Row would want to torture him first so it probably wasn't them.

He reached up with both hands and gripped the cable above his ankle. A few tugs later the knot gave way and he swung his body in a smooth arc toward the rooftop edge. His bare feet hit gravel with a soft crunch. He stood up straight in his gray sleep pants and white tank top, the clothes he'd been wearing when he fell asleep. He looked around again, more slowly this time. Still nothing. No movement. No sound except wind moving between the high-rises.

Ethan smirked. " Must be an Intimidation tactic." Unfortunately for Batman Ethan didn't scare like the typical criminal. He turned toward the fire escape on the far side of the roof, ready to drop down and disappear into the city.

However before his foot left the gravel, a black shape glided down from above and slammed both boots into his chest. The impact launched Ethan backward and he hit the rooftop hard, rolled once, twice, then pushed off with his hands and came up in a crouch. When he looked up Batman stood ten feet away, his cape settling around his shoulders and white lenses locked on him.

Ethan straightened to his full height and cracked his neck. "I could have you arrested for kidnapping and assault, you know."

Batman didn't move nor did he speak. He just stood there menacingly. 

"I have a close connection with the commissioner you know," Ethan continued, letting a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "You should really think about what he may think about what you're doing."

"Where are they?" Batman asked in a grave tone. 

Ethan tilted his head. "Where is who? Did you lose someone? You should head down to the station and file a missing-persons report—"

Batman lunged.

Ethan ducked the first punch and felt the air displace above his head. He countered with a quick jab toward Batman's ribs. The fist connected with armor plating but Ethan followed with a low kick aimed at the knee. Batman shifted his weight and absorbed the blow, then drove an elbow toward Ethan's temple. Ethan leaned back just enough for the strike to whistle past his ear. He grabbed Batman's extended arm, twisted, and tried to throw him over his hip. Batman planted his feet and reversed the momentum, slamming Ethan chest-first into the gravel. Pain flared across his sternum, but Ethan rolled sideways and came up swinging.

They traded blows in the center of the roof. Ethan blocked a hook, countered with a straight right that Batman deflected with a forearm. Batman answered with a spinning backfist that Ethan ducked under, then swept at his feet. Batman leaped over the leg sweep and landed a knee to Ethan's midsection that forced air from his lungs in a grunt. Ethan staggered back two steps but recovered fast. He rushed forward, feinted left, then drove a knee up toward Batman's chin. Batman leaned away, caught Ethan's thigh, and twisted, flipping him onto his back with a thud that knocked gravel loose.

Ethan rolled to his feet again. "You're much more skilled than he was," he whispered purposely trying to enrage him.  

Batman advanced without a word. Ethan met him head-on, throwing a combination, a jab, cross, and ahook. Batman parried the first two and caught the hook on his gauntlet, then retaliated with a palm strike to Ethan's chest that sent him skidding backward. Ethan caught himself against an air-conditioning unit, pushed off, and launched back into range.

He landed a solid kick to Batman's side but Batman absorbed it and grabbed Ethan's ankle mid-recovery. He yanked hard. Ethan went airborne, twisted in the air, and landed on his feet, but Batman was already there. A brutal uppercut caught Ethan under the chin, snapping his head back. Stars burst across his vision. Ethan staggered. Blood trickled from a split lip. He shook it off and charged again, but Batman sidestepped and drove a knee into his stomach that folded him in half. Before Ethan could straighten, Batman grabbed him by the throat, lifted him off the ground, and slammed him down onto the gravel hard enough to crack the surface beneath them.

Ethan coughed, tasting copper as blood filled his mouth. He tried to roll away, but Batman's boot came down on his chest, pinning him in place. The weight pressed air from his lungs.

Batman leaned down, his lenses inches from Ethan's face. "Where. Are. They."

Ethan coughed again, then managed a bloody grin. "Who?"

Batman increased the pressure and Ethan's ribs creaked.

"You know who," Batman said. "Renee Montoya. Robin. Where are they."

Ethan feigned innocence. "You think I took them?"

Batman hauled him up by the throat and dragged him to the edge of the roof. He lifted Ethan over the ledge so his feet dangled above a forty-story drop.

"Last chance," Batman said. "Tell me."

Ethan looked down at the street far below, then back at the lenses. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Batman's grip tightened. "You're lying."

"Am I?" Ethan asked calmly. "You've got no proof. No witnesses. No evidence. You throw me off this roof, you're killing an innocent teenager. Commissioner Gordon's ward. How's that look on the news?"

Batman didn't flinch. "I know you've been responsible for everything, Creedence Upshaw, Eric Davis, Renee Montoya. City Hall. The warehouses, the gang war that's about to start. All of it has been you."

Ethan kept smiling. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Batman pulled him back slightly, then slammed him against the ledge again. Pain shot through Ethan's spine.

"Where are they?" Batman repeated.

Ethan coughed blood onto the gravel. "I don't know."

Batman stared at him for a long moment. Then he released Ethan's throat and stepped back. Ethan dropped to his knees breathing heavily.

Batman crouched in front of him. "This isn't over."

Ethan met his gaze. "I hope not...."

Batman stood and fired his grapple line into the night. He swung away without another word, leaving Ethan kneeling on the gravel with blood dripping from his lip and ribs aching. Ethan stayed there for a minute, breathing slowly. Then he stood, brushed gravel off his pajamas, and walked to the fire escape with a smile on his face. 

_____________________________________

The days after the rooftop encounter with Batman passed in a standard routine for Ethan while he maintained the appearance of normalcy at the Gordon house. He attended classes at Gotham Academy each morning, sitting through lectures on history and advanced mathematics where he contributed answers when called upon but otherwise kept interactions minimal.

After school ended, Ethan would go to the science annex where the lab waited. He spent hours there with Barbara refining the super-soldier serum prototypes, testing delivery mechanisms that ranged from aerosol dispersions to subdermal injections. Progress accumulated at a good pace as he isolated stable variants that enhanced neural firing rates without inducing seizures. 

While he worked, Ethan planned the next raid on Iron Row meticulously. The target he selected sat in the industrial district. Intelligence he had gathered from Sticky Ricky confirmed the location stored processed product ready for street distribution, along with cash reserves from recent collections and a stockpile of automatic rifles smuggled in from abroad. Guards rotated in shifts of eight, with two lieutenants overseeing operations on site. He mapped the entry points from sewer access tunnels that ran beneath the district, timing the strike for a Thursday night when payroll transfers occurred and security focused inward on the money.

One aspect that disrupted the routine involved Barbara. Recently she behaved differently around him in ways that accumulated gradually. She no longer initiated physical affection in the basement after her parents went to sleep, and she avoided the prolonged kisses or touches that had been common in their interactions before. Conversations remained polite but brief, with her excusing herself early to her room or citing homework that required immediate attention. Ethan noticed the shift during their time in the lab, or when they drove to school together.

He analyzed the change from multiple angles while he worked in the lab or lay in bed at night. Relationships remained an area where he lacked intuitive understanding, and he concluded he must have done something wrong without realizing it. Perhaps his responses during intimate moments had lacked the enthusiasm she expected, or comments he made came across as dismissive. The uncertainty irritated him mildly, yet he filed it away as secondary to larger priorities.

In the spare time he had he addressed one vulnerability exposed by Robin and modified his camera scrambler device. The original version blurred recordings in his vicinity, but he redesigned the projection field to overlay false images instead. He programmed presets that included silhouettes matching complete strangers with variable heights and builds. The upgrade extended to vehicles as well, allowing him to drive through the city without leaving traceable visuals.

Despite filing her as secondary Ethan couldn't help but think Barbara's behavior grew stranger as the days progressed. He caught her once rifling through his school bag in the basement while he returned early from the lab, she closed it quickly with an explanation about looking for a borrowed textbook. Another evening she asked pointed questions about his late nights "studying" that carried an edge he could not fully place. He dismissed the incidents since he kept nothing incriminating at the Gordon house.

It did not matter in the end. Barbara posed no threat to his operations.

And with that Ethan focused entirely on the upcoming raid, which he scheduled for the end of the month when payday spikes drove crime rates higher across Gotham. Dealers collected earnings, runners moved product in bulk, and security details stretched thin to cover multiple drops.

On the chosen night, Ethan left the Gordon house after curfew patrols thinned and drove his modified van toward the docks. He parked several blocks away and approached on foot through service tunnels that smelled of saltwater and rust. Guards at the main entrance smoked while they talked, unaware of the figure that emerged from a grate behind them.

He struck quickly with a knife to the throat of one, suppressed pistol shots to the chests of the others before alarms triggered. Inside, workers counted cash in an open bay while crates of rifles stood stacked nearby. Ethan moved through them methodically, eliminating resistance with shots that left bodies slumped over tables or against walls.

In the manager's office upstairs, he found ledgers and a laptop that contained shipment schedules and contact lists. While he downloaded files to a drive, he overheard two lieutenants discussing Kieran Deloe. 

Ethan smiled at that. 

That was too good of an opportunity to pass up. He ambushed both Lieutenants and placed them in separate rooms and asked them both to tell him where Kieren Deloe was. It took a little bit of torture until they both finally got the same answer. After that he left but not before blowing the place sky high.

While driving back in the car he couldn't help but feel excited, he finally had a location on Kieren. Ethan had brought substantial firepower for the raid, including acquired rifles and explosives, along with a new meta-ability absorbed from a target earlier in the week. Yet the sudden availability of Kieran's location raised flags. Iron Row had guarded the leader's movements for weeks, leaking nothing despite everything he had done.

It screamed trap.

Ethan analyzed possibilities while he drove back through the city. They could have baited the location deliberately, expecting him to strike the heart directly. Ambushes, heavier guards, perhaps even meta backups  or hired help from outside Gotham. Whatever plan they devised would be simple.

None of it mattered against him.

He possessed the tools, the abilities, the intelligence.

He would win.

The safe house waited, and with it the chance to end Iron Row permanently. Kieran Deloe would die, the gang would fracture beyond repair, and Gotham would shift one step closer to the order Ethan intended to impose.

He was given this gift to bring about a perfect world. Why else would he have the power to have All Meta abilities. 

All for one person...

Ethan liked that. 

He parked the van in a secure place and returned to the Gordon house before dawn, slipping into the basement undetected

The trap would spring the moment he faced Kieren...

He welcomed it.

_____________________________________

While Ethan got ready for the final strike at iron row. Bruce Wayne sat hunched over the Batcomputer in the depths of the Batcave, where screens showed multiple feeds that displayed maps, surveillance footage, and data streams he had pulled from every available source. 

He had barely slept in the days since Robin disappeared. 

Coffee cups littered the workstation around him, some cold and untouched while others sat half-empty from occasional sips that did little to combat the exhaustion settling into his bones. He chided himself repeatedly while he typed commands that filtered through traffic camera archives and cell tower pings. He had dismissed Ethan Kane as a secondary threat, assuming the boy's actions remained confined to criminals who preyed on the city. Kane targeted Iron Row exclusively leaving no civilian casualties in his wake, the only exception being Renee Montoya. Bruce had reasoned that containing him could wait while larger crises demanded attention.

He should have known better. He should never have allowed Robin to pursue the investigation alone. Dick's arrogance mirrored his own at that age, and Bruce had enabled it by prioritizing other threats and giving him this responsibility before he was ready. The regret gnawed at him with every failed search query that returned empty results.

Frustration built as lead after lead dissolved into nothing. He cross-referenced vehicle registrations that matched descriptions from warehouse witnesses, traced burner phones used in Iron Row communications, and even hacked private security systems around known Kane locations. 

Nothing pointed to Dick's location. 

Bruce leaned back in the chair and rubbed his temples while he considered options he rarely entertained. He had built unofficial rules over years of operating in Gotham, no alliances with certain vigilantes, no direct involvement from League members unless global threats emerged, no requests for help from metas outside his city. Yet the situation edged closer to forcing him to break those boundaries. He could contact Superman, but admitting he lacked control over a teenage meta-human who had taken one of his own felt like defeat.

The elevator hummed softly as it descended into the cave. Alfred emerged carrying a tray with a pot of tea, a sandwich on a plate, and a glass of water. He approached the workstation quickly and set the tray down beside the keyboard.

"Master Bruce," Alfred said gently. "You must eat something and get some rest. You've been at this for days without proper sleep."

Bruce shook his head without looking away from the screens. "I can't stop now. Not until I find him."

Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder briefly. "I understand the worry, sir. We all share it for Master Dick. But you will be of no use to him if you collapse from exhaustion."

Bruce grunted in response, fingers resuming their rapid typing.

Alfred sighed softly. "Miss Barbara is here. She will be down in a moment."

Bruce acknowledged with another grunt, attention fixed on a new data pull from harbor traffic cams.

Alfred left the tray within reach and retreated to the elevator, passing Barbara on her way down. She wore civilian clothes—a hoodie and jeans—with her hair tied back in a loose ponytail.

"Good evening, Miss Barbara," Alfred greeted her.

"Hey, Alfred," she replied with a small smile that didn't reach her eyes.

He paused beside her. "Master Bruce remains in a sour mood and deeply worried for Master Dick. Please do not take any shortness personally."

Barbara nodded. "Thanks for the heads-up. I figured."

Alfred continued upstairs while Barbara descended the final steps into the cave proper. She approached the Batcomputer where Bruce sat silhouetted against the glowing displays.

"I did what you asked," she said without preamble as she stopped beside the chair. "I searched his stuff in the basement. Bag, drawers, under the bed—everything. I found nothing. No weapons, no plans, no weird tech. Just school books and clothes."

Bruce didn't turn from the screens immediately. "That doesn't prove anything."

Barbara crossed her arms. "It proves he isn't hiding stuff in our house. Maybe you're wrong, maybe he's not the guy you're looking for."

Bruce swiveled the chair to face her finally. "We have footage from City Hall matching his build exactly. Exterior cams from his old apartment the night of the hit squad. Witnesses from the Iron Row raids describing someone his height with the same movement patterns. And now Dick goes after him and vanishes, not to mention your last call with Dick before he went dark."

Barbara shifted her weight. "There's a lot I can't explain, okay? But kidnapping Dick? That's... that's not him. Ethan wouldn't do something that horrible."

Bruce's expression remained hard. "You want to believe that because you're involved with him. Emotion clouds judgment."

She bristled. "Don't lecture me about emotion. I'm  better than that. I'm looking at facts too. If Ethan took Dick, why? They didn't even know each other."

"It fits if he's eliminating threats," Bruce countered. "Dick was closing in. Ethan removes him quietly, buys time."

Barbara shook her head. "You're reaching. You have no direct evidence tying him to Dick's disappearance."

"I have enough to act," Bruce said. "And I should have acted sooner instead of treating him as contained."

She took a step closer, voice rising slightly. "So what now? You drag him in based on hunches? Ruin his life because you think he's capable of this?"

"If he's innocent," Bruce replied evenly, "questioning won't ruin anything. If he's guilty, it saves Dick."

Barbara stared at him for a long moment, hurt flashing across her features. "You really think that little of him? After everything he's been through, his parents were killed barely a month ago!"

"Has he cried even once?" Bruce said. "No... he hasn't, because he's not like you, I've seen it in his eyes. You have more in common with an animal than you do with Ethan Kane."

Something in his tone, the coldness of it, hit her hard. Tears welled up unexpectedly. She turned away quickly to hide them. "Fine... but I'm... I'm not doing anything more, not until you prove he's involved." She walked toward the elevator without another word.

Bruce watched her go, then turned back to the screens. Regret flickered briefly, but the search for Dick overrode it.

Barbara rode the elevator up in silence, wiping her eyes as the doors opened to the manor hallway. In her heart she knew Bruce wouldn't lie or exaggerate evidence. The pieces fit in ways she hated to admit. Ethan wasn't like her, she had caught him sneaking out at night, she had seen the bruises on his body that he never explained. It broke her heart to confront the possibility, but doubt had taken root. She couldn't ignore it forever.

She headed to her room in the guest wing Alfred kept ready for her, closing the door softly behind her. The argument replayed in her mind while she sat on the bed with her phone in hand. 

But no one to call. 

___________________________________

Ethan stood on the roof of an abandoned office building across from the target warehouse in Burnley where intelligence placed Kieran Deloe and most of Iron Row's remaining leadership. He had been watching through a high-powered sniper scope for over four hours. The crosshairs moved methodically across windows, doorways, and loading bays while he catalogued every movement inside; guards rotating shifts, runners carrying duffel bags, lieutenants arguing in the open bay. 

No sign of Kieran yet.

Frustration built slowly in his chest. He had expected confirmation by now. Part of him considered ending it quickly. He could plant charges at structural points, detonate from a safe distance, and walk away while the building collapsed. But that wouldn't guarantee Kieran's death. The man had survived worse than one explosion, and a premature blast would alert Batman immediately. Worse, Ethan wanted the meta ability Kieran carried. He wanted the explosive fluids power badly. Absorbing it would give him a ranged option that complemented his close-quarters arsenal perfectl and give him another ability he desperately needed. 

He put the sniper rifle on the ground and activated his meta ability, a moment later he fired a grapple line toward the warehouse roof. The hook embedded silently in a vent. He then swung across the gap between buildings, his boots landing without sound on the tarred surface. He crouched to the ground and moved to a ventilation shaft that opened near the rear. The grate came off with a quick twist of his knife. He dropped inside feet-first and shimmied down the narrow duct. 

He reached a horizontal section and crawled forward until he came to a vent cover overlooking an empty hallway on the second floor. Using x-ray vision, he scanned through walls and floors. Fifteen men occupied the main floor below, some with women draped over them, others passing bottles or snorting lines off a table. No one stood guard at doors or windows. No heavy patrols. No tension at all. 

Ethan raised a brow. He had anticipated a much larger fight. This felt too relaxed for a building supposedly holding the gang's core leadership.

He dropped from the vent into the hallway and moved silently toward the nearest room. Two men stood inside with their backs to the door, laughing while a woman knelt between them. Ethan stepped in behind them and drew his knife, stabbing his blade through the first man's kidney, then up under the ribs into the heart. The body dropped without a sound. The second man turned just in time to see the knife coming. Ethan drove it upward through his chin into his brain. Blood sprayed across the woman's face. She opened her mouth to scream but Ethan clamped a hand over it and snapped her neck with a quick twist. She slumped to the floor beside the others.

He moved to the next room. Three men sat around a card table with drinks and cash in front of them. Ethan stepped inside and fired suppressed rounds from his pistol, two to the first man's head, one to the second's throat, three rapid shots into the third's chest. Bodies hit the floor in quick succession, cards scattering across blood-soaked bills.

Shouts erupted from the main floor below. Someone had heard the people hitting the floor and the suprrrssed shots.

Ethan descended the stairs quickly. A group of six men rushed up toward him with pistols raised. He activated Hyperadrenal making time slow slightly as his reflexes sharpened and met them head-on. He sidestepped the first shot, grabbed the shooter's wrist, twisted until the bone snapped, then drove the man's own pistol under his chin and pulled the trigger. Brain matter painted the wall. Ethan kicked the body backward into the next man, knocking him off balance, then stabbed another in the eye socket while he fired into a third's throat. The remaining two fired wildly and the bullets punched into Ethan's vest and grazed his arm but he closed the distance and crushed one windpipe with a palm strike before snapping the last man's neck with a violent twist.

More men poured in from side doors, around eight now, armed with bats, knives, and handguns. Ethan dropped the pistol as he had to reload and drew a combat knife in each hand. He charged into them. One swung a bat at his head; Ethan ducked under it, slashed across the man's stomach, and felt intestines spill hot and wet over his boots. Another stabbed at his ribs; Ethan caught the wrist, broke his arm and forced the bone out of the skin, he then forced the man's bone back into his neck. Blood gushed from the wounds while the man gurgled.

A third fired point-blank. The round struck Ethan's vest over the sternum and pain flared but the plate held. Ethan grabbed the shooter by the face, slammed him backward into a crate, and crushed his skull against the wood until bone gave way with a wet crunch.

The fight spilled across the main floor. Ethan moved through the group like a machine, he rushed forward as he threw his knife through one man's eye, and elbowed another's throat and collapsed the windpipe. Someone attacked from behind only to receive a knee to a groin followed by a stomp that shattered their pelvis. Blood and exploded ball sack slicked the concrete under his boots. 

He took a knife to the shoulder and a bat across the back that the vest caught, but he ignored both and kept killing. A man swung a chain that wrapped around his forearm; Ethan yanked him forward and headbutted him until the nose flattened and teeth scattered. He finished with a knife through the ear into the brain.

The last few tried to run. Ethan pursued. One tripped over a body and fell; Ethan stomped his head until it split open like a melon. Another reached the door and Ethan threw a knife that buried in his spine.

Silence fell except for the wet sounds of blood dripping from tables and bodies.

Ethan stood in the center of the carnage, breathing a little heavily as bloods and sweat covered him from head to boots. He walked toward the back office where a single man waited behind a desk; he was tall and tattooed, but not Kieran. Ethan put a bullet in his forehead without breaking stride. The body slumped forward over ledgers.

He grabbed one of the surviving women who cowered behind an overturned chair. She screamed when he yanked her up by the arm.

"Where is Kieran?" he asked calmly.

She shook her head frantically, tears streaming down her face. "I don't know... I swear, I don't know!"

He pressed the pistol barrel under her chin. Other women screamed from corners of the room. "We don't know!" one shouted. "He never came here tonight!"

Ethan frowned. 

He had confirmed the location through two separate gang members and interrogated them personally. They had all pointed to this warehouse.

Something was wrong.

He released the woman and walked to the central table where bricks of white powder sat stacked. Blood covered the surface, however this blood was different, it was older blood, darker, congealed in places. His frowned deepened. 

He picked up one brick and tore the plastic open. The moment he tore into it was the moment he realised that it wasn't cocaine, in fact none of them were. Instead it was a clay like substance that his hands moulded into. 

Semtex.

The realization hit him the instant he understood.

He looked up and saw the camera mounted in the corner.

The moment he registered it, he activated mass adjustment. His body expanded to over eight feet tall and 350 kilograms of dense muscle in a heartbeat. He pushed off the floor with such force that the concrete cracked beneath his boots and he blurred across the room. He grabbed the nearest sofa with both hands, rolled with it as a shield, and hurled himself toward the far wall.

Outside, Kieran Deloe stood with his four top lieutenants. He smiled as he looked through the camera on his phone, the moment he saw Ethan look up at the camera he activated his meta ability and made the blood he'd placed there explode. The explosion ripped through the building in a massive fireball. The walls buckled outward. The roof lifted and collapsed inward. Flames shot skyward while debris rained across the district.

Kieran lowered the binoculars and clapped slowly, then laughed loudly. "That's right, you little fuck! Burn! You thought you could bleed us dry? You thought you could walk into my city and take what's mine?" He spat on the ground. "No one fucks with Iron Row! No one fucks with me! I built this! Me! And I'll burn every inch of this shithole city before I let some punk kid take it!"

His lieutenants nodded all of them had huge grins on their faces as they laughed along with their boss.  Meanwhile the warehouse burned fiercely, black smoke billowing into the night sky.

But then then something moved in the rubble.

A figure burst out of the collapsed front wall. 

It was Ethan his costume was shredded to rags, his skin was torn and bleeding from multiple lacerations. Shrapnel had sliced deep across his chest and arms. One leg dragged slightly, the bone fractured but not broken and blood poured from various wounds across his body. 

Kieran scowled when he saw the shape stagger to its feet amid the flames. "Motherfucker," he muttered. 

Ethan stood in the wreckage, breathing hard while his eyes were fixed where Kieran was. He had survived the blast through mass adjustment and using the sofa at the last second which was enough to absorb the worst of the shockwave but the damage was still bad.

"Spread out and pin him down," Kieran ordered. "I want him crawling before I fucking kill him."

The lieutenants moved quickly to positions and they raised their automatic rifles before they opened fire. Bullets tore into the rubble around Ethan, who had barely taken three steps from the collapsed warehouse rumble when the first rounds struck near his feet and forced him to dive behind a concrete wall that jutted from the debris. More shots followed and sparks flew as bullets ricocheted off concrete and steel while Ethan pressed his body flat against the ground.

His injuries throbbed with every heartbeat, and blood seeped from deep gashes across his chest and arms where shrapnel had sliced through his skin during the explosion. One leg dragged when he tried to shift position, and the fractured bone sent pain up his thigh each time he moved. His ribs ached from the earlier impacts, and burns covered parts of his back where flames had licked at him. He gripped his pistol in one hand, but the incoming fire came so hard and fast that he could not lift his head long enough to aim or return shots without exposing himself to a hail of bullets that would shred him further.

Ethan breathed heavily while he lay there and listened to the rounds ping and crack around his cover, he forced his mind to focus despite the pain that clouded his thoughts. He counted the bursts from each direction and noted the patterns in the shooting, which told him the four men fired from positions across the street.

His eyes landed on a loose rebar rod half buried in the rubble near his hand, and he realized the wall he hid behind connected to a larger section of collapsed wall that still held electrical wiring from the warehouse. The explosion had exposed live wires that sparked intermittently, Ethan pieced together a plan quickly. 

He reached out slowly and grabbed the rebar without drawing fire, then he threw one end into the exposed wires while the other end landed against the ground. Sparks flew as current surged through the metal, and angled toward a puddle of leaking fuel from a ruptured container nearby. The fuel ignited with a whoosh, and flames raced along the ground toward scattered debris that included propane tanks stored in the warehouse yard.

One lieutenant leaned out too far to get a better angle on Ethan's position, and the sudden flare-up caught his eye just as the flames reached the first tank. The tank exploded in a concussive blast that sent shrapnel flying, and a jagged piece caught the lieutenant in the neck before it tore through his throat and dropped him to the ground in a spray of blood.

Ethan used the distraction immediately, and he pushed off the ground with his good leg. He sprinted toward a stack of containers twenty yards away that offered better cover, he fired his pistol as he ran. Bullets found the second lieutenant, who had turned toward the explosion, and two shots struck center mass before a third hit his head and sent him sprawling backward.

Kieran stopped laughing when he saw two of his men fall in quick succession, rage twisted his scarred face as he grabbed an assault rifle from one of the remaining lieutenants. He opened fire himself while he screamed orders at the two men left. "Push forward and kill that bastard now! Don't let him breathe!" The lieutenants advanced along the ground while they laid down suppressing fire, Kieran reloaded his own weapon before he pulled bullets from his pocket one by one.

He licked each bullet slowly, coating them with his saliva. He aimed carefully and fired the first enhanced round, which struck the ground near the containers and detonated in a large explosion that sent concrete and metal fragments flying in all directions. The blast wave rocked Ethan's cover, and he rolled away just as another exploding bullet hit the container he had hidden behind and blew it apart.

Ethan broke into a full run while explosions chased him across the open yard, he crashed through the shattered window of an adjacent abandoned factory.  Glass cut into his shoulders as he tumbled through and landed on the concrete floor, but he scrambled up and sprinted deeper into the structure while Kieran continued firing. Each exploding bullet tore holes in the walls and brought down sections of the ceiling as debris rained around Ethan, who navigated through corridors.

The building shook violently as multiple explosions weakened the supports, and chunks of concrete fell while Ethan reached the top floor and leaped out the window into the night air just as he counted Kieran's sixth shot. Ethan twisted his body and brought up his pistol. He sighted the two remaining lieutenants, who had moved closer to support Kieran, and he squeezed off two shots that dropped both men with headshots before they could react. His boots hit the ground as he landed in a roll, and surged forward directly toward Kieran. 

Kieran grinned wildly while he licked the entire revolver barrel, coating it thickly with his saliva, he then hurled the weapon straight at Ethan like a grenade. Ethan dove sideways as the gun exploded mid flight in a massive blast that lit up the street, and the shockwave caught him full force before it tossed him across the gravel and slammed him into a wall that crumpled under the impact.

Ethan pushed himself up slowly and raised his pistol to fire only to hear the click of an empty magazine. He tossed the weapon aside without hesitation and charged forward on foot while Kieran drew a long dagger from his belt and sliced open his own palm in a deep cut that welled blood instantly.

"You little shit," Kieran snarled as blood dripped from his hand, and he advanced while he swung the dagger. "I'm gonna gut you slowly and make you beg. Then I'll fuck what's left of you before I burn the body." Ethan stayed silent and closed the distance again, but Kieran flicked drops of blood toward him that exploded in mid air and forced Ethan to weave and dodge while the  blasts singed his skin and tore at his remaining clothing.

He got too close on one rush, and a splatter of blood hit his chest before it detonated with enough force to lift him off his feet and hurl him backward into a brick wall. Ethan slid down the surface and tried to stand, but his legs buckled while exhaustion and accumulated injuries overwhelmed him for a moment, he pushed over onto his back with a groan as he stared up at the smoke filled sky.

Kieran approached with a smug stride while he twirled the dagger, confidence radiated from him as he looked down at the prone figure. "Look at you now, all fucked up and done. I told you no one messes with Iron Row and lives. I'm gonna enjoy carving you apart piece by piece." He paused and chuckled while he remembered the deal. "That cop Bullock wanted you alive for questioning, promised me breathing room if I handed you over. But fuck that deal. You're dying right here, right now, and I'm taking my time."

Kieran knelt down and straddled Ethan's chest while he pinned him in place with his weight, he held his bleeding hand over Ethan's face before he let the blood pour in thick streams across the mask and exposed skin. "You know, I can control how strong these blasts get to a point," Kieran said with excitement in his voice while drops continued to fall. "There's this perfect level where the heat burns your skin right off in layers, but the force doesn't kill you. You're gonna feel every bit of it, kid. I can't wait for you to experience that."

After laughing menacingly he focused and tried to trigger the explosion in the blood coating Ethan's face, but nothing happened. Kieran frowned and tried again with more concentration while he willed the reaction to start, yet the blood remained inert and simply dripped harmlessly. He shook his hand and splattered more while he attempted repeatedly, and frustration built as each effort failed completely. "What the fuck?" he yelled while his face reddened, and he slammed his fist down beside Ethan's head before he tried once more with no result. "Come on, explode, you piece of shit!"

Ethan's hand shot up suddenly and grabbed Kieran by the throat in a vise grip while his other fist drove into the man's jaw with full force. Blood sprayed along with several teeth that flew from Kieran's mouth, and Ethan used the momentum to roll them over until he mounted the gang leader's chest with knees pinning arms down.

"I don't enjoy many things in life, Kieran," Ethan said with a wide grin visible beneath the torn edges of his mask while he gripped the scarred man's face with both hands, "but let me tell you, I'm really going to enjoy this." He applied pressure and squeezed harder while Kieran's eyes widened in panic, the man thrashed beneath him before he screamed as the bones in his skull creaked. Ethan increased the force without pause until Kieran's eyes bulged and popped from their sockets in wet bursts, and then the entire head exploded in a gory spray that covered Ethan's arms and torso.

Ethan held the pressure for another second while a sound escaped him that bordered on a moan of satisfaction, and then finally released the headless body before he stood slowly amid the pooling blood. One of his biggest adversaries lay dead at his feet, and with Kieran gone along with the lieutenants he had just killed, Iron Row's leadership structure collapsed entirely. The remaining members would scatter or fall quickly as other gangs moved in to claim territory and mop up the fragments.

All because of him. 

He looked down at his body covered in blood from head to toe and started laughingg. The sound built from a quiet chuckle into full throated bursts that echoed across the rooftop. The laughter continued as he focused inward and activated the newly stolen ability. Explosions erupted in bursts that consumed the blood completely and left no trace of DNA evidence behind, Ethan had wanted this power specifically for moments exactly like this where cleanup needed to be thorough.

He kept laughing while the fires died down and revealed clean skin beneath, the release felt good after the intense fight. The laughter went on until a faint sound caught his ear from behind, Ethan turned to see Batman standing there.

Ethan chuckled quietly in his throat as he saw him. Not only that, but sirens wailed in the distance and grew louder with each second, which told him police cars raced toward the district after all the noise from the warehouse blast and the gunfire.

He figured he would have a little more time before Batman tracked him down here, especially after everything that went down tonight. It seems The Dark Knight must carry serious rage over Robin's disappearance, and knew that anger must've drove him to show up faster than expected.

As amazing as Ethan felt after absorbing Kierans power, he knew he could not take Batman head on while cops swarmed the area, the combination would pin him down no matter how many tricks he had. He needed space and time to heal.

So with that, Ethan spun on his heel and bolted away without another word. He leaped up and swung himself  up to the roof and landed in a roll that carried him forward. Batman launched his grapple line immediately, and the hook embedded in a chimney behind Ethan before the cape flew across the distance in pursuit.

Ethan sprinted across the flat roof and vaulted over air conditioning units while he headed toward the cluster of abandoned factories that lined the waterfront. He dropped down a fire escape on the far side and hit the ground running as Batman landed above him and followed without pause. Sirens echoed closer through the streets, and red and blue lights painted the walls of buildings while patrol cars turned into the industrial zone.

He ducked into the first factory through a broken loading door, and darkness swallowed him as he navigated around rusted machinery and conveyor belts. Footsteps echoed behind him when Batman entered the same way, and Ethan cut left into a narrow corridor lined with old control panels. He heard the cape rustle just before Batman closed the gap and lunged forward with a sweeping kick aimed at his legs.

Ethan jumped over the kick and countered with an elbow driven backward that Batman blocked with a forearm. They traded blows in the tight space while Ethan pressed forward with punches that Batman deflected or absorbed on armored plates. Batman grabbed Ethan's wrist mid swing and twisted to throw him into a stack of metal crates, which clanged loudly as they toppled. Ethan rolled with the impact and came up swinging a length of chain he snatched from the floor.

He whipped the chain toward Batman's head, and the links wrapped around a gauntlet when Batman caught it mid air. Batman yanked hard and pulled Ethan off balance before he drove a knee into his midsection that forced air from his lungs in a grunt. Ethan absorbed the hit and used the closeness to grab Batman's cape before he pivoted and slammed the Dark Knight into the corridor wall hard enough to crack the concrete.

Batman jumped free with a and delivered an elbow to Ethan's temple that staggered him, and he followed with a series of rapid strikes to the body and face while Ethan blocked most but took a solid hook to the jaw that felt like it cracked it. Ethan retaliated as he ducked under the next punch and drove his shoulder into Batman's chest to shove him backward through a flimsy office door.

They crashed into the small room where desks and chairs scattered and Ethan grabbed Batman by the cowl before he headbutted him twice in quick succession. Batman absorbed the impacts and countered by sweeping Ethan's legs while he flipped them over so he landed on top. He rained down heavy fists that Ethan struggled to block. Ethan bridged his hips and bucked Batman off before he scrambled to his feet and bolted deeper into the factory. He climbed a metal staircase that creaked under his weight and emerged onto a catwalk overlooking the main floor. Batman pursued up the stairs two at a time, and he closed the distance again just as Ethan reached the middle of the walkway.

Batman tackled him from behind and drove him into the railing, which bent under the force while they grappled for control. Ethan twisted around and landed a knee to Batman's ribs that elicited a low grunt, and he followed with punches to the face that glanced off the cowl. Batman blocked the next strike and countered with a palm strike to Ethan's chest that sent him sliding backward along the catwalk.

They circled each other briefly while sirens blared outside and helicopter lights swept through broken windows. Ethan feinted left and rushed right with a spinning kick that Batman ducked under before he grabbed the leg and flipped Ethan over the railing. Ethan twisted mid air and grabbed the edge to pull himself back up while Batman advanced again.

He met Batman with a series of kicks and punches that forced the Dark Knight to retreat step by step along the narrow walkway. Batman parried a high kick and caught Ethan's arm before he pulled him into a clinch where they exchanged short elbows and knees in close quarters. Ethan headbutted Batman again and broke free before he ran toward the far end where the catwalk connected to another building through a shattered window.

Batman fired a batarang that embedded in the walkway near Ethan's feet and released an explosion that sent him to the ground. Ethan rolled forward and regained his footing as he leaped through the window into the adjacent factory, which carried faded signage reading Kane & Sons across the brick exterior.

Batman followed through the window and landed in a crouch before he pursued across the open floor. Ethan weaved between the machines and used them for cover while he climbed another set of stairs to an upper walkway that overlooked vats and spinning frames below. Batman scaled the side wall with the grapple and met him up top again.

They clashed immediately with Ethan throwing the first punch that Batman sidestepped before he countered with a chop to the throat that made Ethan cough. Ethan recovered and grabbed Batman's arm to throw him toward the railing, but Batman planted his feet and reversed the throw so Ethan slammed into the metal bars instead. Pain flared in his back, yet he spun and kicked Batman in the chest hard enough to push him backward several steps.

Batman charged forward and tackled Ethan around the waist before he drove him along the walkway until they hit the end railing. Ethan dug his heels in and punched downward at Batman's back while the Dark Knight lifted him slightly off the ground. Ethan shifted his weight and kicked out with both legs against the railing, which propelled them both backward and gave him leverage to flip Batman over his shoulder.

Batman sailed over the railing and dropped toward the factory floor below, but he twisted mid air and fired his grapple to swing in an arc before he landed on the main floor. Ethan looked down while he breathed heavily, and Batman stared up. 

'It's funny how much can change in a month.'

'The problem with assuming you're the smartest person in the room... you always end up missing when someone else walks in.'

Ethan dropped from the platform in a controlled fall, landing in a crouch that barely made a sound. He exploded forward activating both Hyperadrenal and expanded vision, closing the gap in three strides, leading with a spinning heel kick aimed at Batman's temple. The Dark Knight didn't dodge; he stepped inside the arc, caught Ethan's ankle with one hand, and drove an armored elbow into the back of the trapped knee. Cartilage popped. Ethan hissed but twisted mid-air, using the momentum to wrench free and land on his good leg.

'It's funny.'

Batman pressed the advantage without mercy. A batarang whipped from his gauntlet and buried itself in the meat of Ethan's thigh before he could pivot. The minor explosive charge inside detonated with a muted crack, shredding muscle and sending Ethan staggering. Before he could rip it free, Batman was on him with three short, vicious jabs to the solar plexus that drove the air from his lungs, followed by a rising uppercut that snapped Ethan's head back and cracked the mask across the cheekbone.

'When I finally decided what to do with my life...'

Ethan tasted blood and retaliated with a flurry of strikes drawn from every style he had learned: Muay Thai, Krav Maga, boxing. Hyperadrenal let him move faster than any normal human, but Batman was keeping up still. He parried, redirected, countered and just easily dismantled any kind of fight he was able to put up. 

A smoke pellet burst at Ethan's feet. He leaped backward through the gray cloud, landing on a stack of pallets. From his belt he drew a collapsible baton and flicked it open. Batman emerged from the smoke like a living shadow his cape flaring outwards. He fired his grapple line into the overhead rafters, swung in a wide arc, and drop-kicked Ethan square in the chest. The impact hurled him through the air and over the safety rail of the upper platform.

Ethan twisted mid-fall, trying to control the descent. He almost succeeded. Batman's second grapple line snaked out, wrapped around his ankle, and yanked hard. The sudden reversal slammed Ethan face-first into a steel support beam. Stars exploded across his vision. Blood poured from his nose and split lip.

Batman reeled him in like a hooked fish, then released the line at the perfect moment to send Ethan crashing through a stack of wooden crates on the lower level. Splinters erupted around him. Before Ethan could roll clear, Batman dropped from above, driving both knees into Ethan's sternum. Ribs cracked audibly. Air fled Ethan's lungs in a soundless scream.

He tried to rise. Batman's boot pinned his wrist to the ground. A second boot came down on the opposite elbow, grinding until something tore. Batman reached to his utility belt, produced a small aerosol canister, and sprayed a fast-acting paralytic mist directly into Ethan's face through the mask's breathing vents. Nerves locked. Limbs went heavy. Ethan could still think, still feel every point of agony, but his body refused to answer.

The Dark Knight hauled him up by the front of the jacket and dragged him toward the loading dock where an old sedan sat under a tarp, abandoned years ago. Without ceremony, Batman hurled Ethan over the railing of the elevated platform. Ethan fell thirty feet and struck the sedan roof dead-center. Metal buckled inward with a thunderous crash, the windshield spider-webbing around the impact crater shaped exactly like his body. Glass rained. The car alarm gave one weak, dying honk before falling silent.

He lay there in the concave ruin of steel and safety glass, blood pooling beneath his head, Hyperadrenal finally sputtering out under the weight of trauma and paralytic.

'It had only been a month.'

One month since the hospital. Three weeks since he had moved into the basement of Commissioner Gordon's house. Two weeks since he had truly decided that Gotham needed someone willing to do what Batman would not. And now, staring up through shattered glass at the broken skylight high above, Ethan watched the silhouette of the Bat descend slowly on a grapple line.

Even in such a situation he couldn't help but form a small smile on his face. Though it wasn't at the situation itself, but at something that had come to mind in his last moments of his freedom. 

'I am Ozymandius King of Kings.'

The Dark Knight approached the sedan, every step cracking and shattering glass into dust.

'Look on my works ye mighty and despair.'

The sound of metal groaning echoed through the night air was the only thing Ethan heard before he saw the Dark Knight standing above him and looking down. No sympathy. No hatred. Just the cold unblinking stare he was all too used to seeing in the mirror.

'Nothing beside remains. Round the decay, of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare, the lone and level sands stretch far away.'

"It's over. Tell me where Robin is. Now." Batman growled as he stood over him. 

Ethan coughed hard while blood flecked his lips, he tried to push himself up on one elbow despite thr cracked ribs sending fire through his chest. His arm trembled under the effort, but before he could gain any leverage, Batman's boot slammed down on his sternum and pinned him flat against the metal. The pressure ground into his injuries while glass shards dug deeper into his back, and Ethan wheezed as air struggled to fill his lungs.

"It's over," Batman repeated in that same grave tone while his lenses bored into Ethan's eyes. "You lost. Now tell me where he is."

Ethan managed a smile through the pain, and the expression stretched the split in his lip while fresh blood trickled down his chin. "Do you know the problem with always assuming you're the smartest person in the room..."

Batman frowned beneath the cowl while he increased the pressure with his boot just enough to make Ethan's vision blur at the edges.

"You always end up missing when someone else walks in," Ethan finished, and then he started laughing in short, ragged bursts that turned into coughs midway.

Batman stood there scowling while he processed the words, and his grip tightened on the edge of the sedan roof where his other hand rested.

"I knew you'd come for me," Ethan continued while his laughter faded into a grin. "I knew this whole thing tonight was a trap . You really think I didn't spot Harvey Bullock hanging around the edges with the police? You think I'd miss that detail? Me?"

"You could never win against me..." 

BOOM

BOOM

Ethan looked up at him while multiple explosions began detonating across the district in rapid succession. Batman whipped his head toward the sounds and saw orange glows blooming in the night sky, with plumes of smoke rising where he knew police barricades and response teams had set up. He turned back to Ethan, "What have you done!?"

"I've won," Ethan replied simply while his grin widened despite the boot on his chest.

“I finally know what gives me purpose in life… it’s people like you... I... I really didn't want this to end so soon," Ethan added in a tone that carried genuine sadness.

Batman grabbed him by the front of the tactical vest in a flash and hauled him halfway up before he drove a fist into Ethan's jaw that snapped his head sideways and sprayed more blood across the shattered windshield. Another punch followed to the ribs where cracks already existed, Ethan grunted while the impacts jarred his whole body. 

Batman leaned in close while he held him suspended. "You're going to jail for the rest of your life after you tell me everything, you haven't won!"

"How can that happen when I'm not here," Ethan replied calmly while blood dripped from his mouth.

Batman's eyes widened behind the lenses as the body in his grip suddenly shimmered and dissolved into nothing, with fabric and flesh vanishing like smoke dispersing in wind until only empty air remained where Ethan had been.

Batman released his hold on nothing and stepped back quickly while he scanned the sedan crater and the surrounding floor, but no trace lingered except bloodstains on the metal that belonged to the figure now gone. He pivoted in a full circle while he tried to understand what trick or ability had allowed the escape right under his grasp.

BANG

A  bang cracked through the district from outside, and a sniper round slammed into the side of Batman's cowl. The impact jerked his head sideways and he fell off the sedan onto the concrete. Before he could react fully, a second shot followed in quick succession and struck his chest, which made his body jerk violently before he slumped forward onto the ground in a heap with the cape pooling around him.

A mile away on a rooftop overlooking the industrial district, Ethan pulled back from the high-powered sniper scope and smiled widely while he watched the Dark Knight fall through the magnified view. 

Doppelganger remained one of the best abilities he had acquired from a meta in the East End earlier that week while he scouted for new powers before the final push against Kieran. The ability let him create a perfect physical copy of himself that fooled every sense and even bled realistically, though it did not make a copy of his powers so he had to assign specific ones to the duplicate manually which meant his original body didn't have them until he deactivated the ability. Tonight he had loaded it with hyperadrenal, Size manipulation and expanded vision. 

Ethan then swung the scope toward the police where his explosions had torn through several police staging areas and vehicles parked along the perimeter streets. He had planted C4 charges in targeted spots earlier in the day while he prepared contingencies. He wanted to limit cop casualties since most followed orders without personal malice, but Harvey Bullock needed to die for knowing his identity and the fact he wouldn't give up trying ti find Renee didn't help.

Through the scope Ethan located Harvey's body amid the wreckage of an overturned squad car. Harvey lay on the ground with shrapnel wounds across his chest that already looked bad. Ethan exhaled and squeezed the trigger once more, which sent a round into the detective's chest to confirm the kill before the body twitched and went still.

He stood up slowly from his prone position and stretched his arms overhead while muscles loosened after hours of being in this position, though it was worth it. All major enemies lay handled in one coordinated effort; Kieran and his lieutenants dead on the rooftop, Batman eliminated, Harvey can no longer investigate him. 

It felt like a good night. 

Ethan smiled again and broke down the sniper rifle quickly before he holstered the components in a carrying case slung over his shoulder. He descended the fire escape on the building's rear side and reached the alley where his motorbike waited under a tarp that he pulled free in one motion. The engine roared to life with a twist of the key, and he pulled on his helmet before he accelerated out of the district through back streets that avoided main roads still clogged with emergency responders rushing toward the explosions.

He rode wuickly through Gotham's quieter neighborhoods while wind whipped past. The route took him across the river and into the residential area where the Gordon house stood. He killed the engine two blocks away and pushed the bike the rest of the distance before he stashed it somewhere secret. From there he slipped over the back wall into the Gordons' yard and approached the basement window he always left unlatched for entries like this.

Ethan eased through the opening feet first and dropped silently onto the carpeted floor while he closed the window behind him without a click. He moved through the dark space toward the light switch near his bed, and he flipped it on with one hand while he shrugged off the gear bag with the other.

Barbara sat waiting in the desk chair across the room with her arms crossed and red hair loose over her shoulders while she wore pajamas. Her eyes met his directly without surprise or fear, only a serious expression that carried weight he could not fully read yet.

"We need to talk."

(AN: So the one month mini arc is over. How many of you excepted all this to happen. Has Ethan truly won? What will he do next. Anyway hope you enjoy it.