DC: All for One Chapter 15 — A New Power in Gotham (Patreon)

In the meeting room on the Watchtower the members of the Justice League sat around the circular table that dominated the space. Minus Batman every member of the justice league was there, and sitting at the head of the table was none other than Superman. "We have stabilized him to the best of our abilities, but Batman remains in a coma, the doctors in the medical wing say the head trauma combined with the internal injuries from the bullet have left his body in a protective shutdown while it tries to heal," Superman said trying to keep his voice from breaking. 

Martian Manhunter sat to his right while he processed the information from the scans that still floated on the holographic display above the table. "Without Batman present in Gotham, crime has started to skyrocket in ways they have not seen in years," he said as he shifted in his seat and projected a map of the city onto the display with a wave of his hand. "The gang war that was already brewing has intensified with Iron Row's collapse, and reports from the ground indicate that the Falcone family and the Maronis are moving into the power vacuum while smaller crews fight over scraps, leading to shootings in the streets that the GCPD cannot contain on their own after losing so many officers."

Wonder Woman leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest. "We need to consider sending support to Gotham to keep things under control before the situation spirals completely out of hand, the city has relied on Batman for so long that his absence has created a gap we cannot ignore," she said while she uncrossed her arms and placed one hand on the table. "Perhaps we could rotate in a few of our members on a temporary basis for a few months until Batman recovers."

Aquaman sat across from her with his trident resting against the arm of his chair. "I agree that we cannot leave Gotham to collapse under its own weight, I could spare some time from Atlantis to assist with the harbor districts where the worst of the gang activity seems concentrated, but I'm afraid my business in Atlantis will keep me busy a lot of the time," he said while he glanced at the map display.

Flash who had been listening while tapping his foot rapidly against the floor finally couldn't take it anymore. "Are we really just going to ignore the massive elephant in the room here?" he asked as he looked around at the others. "Because we all know who is responsible for putting Batman in that medical bed, and dancing around the topic isn't going to make it go away."

The others around the table sighed in a collective wave of frustration while some nodded in agreement, Wonder Woman leaned forward again and placed both hands flat on the surface. "Flash is right we cannot pretend this did not happen, Batgirl came to us directly and told us that her classmate Ethan Kane was the one who shot Batman and critically injured him while also killing or injuring dozens of police officers in the process," she said as she met Superman's gaze across the table.

Hal Jordan, seated to Flash's left, shook his head. "She also did give any evidence to support that claim, we cannot just go arresting people without anything solid to back it up, that would set a dangerous precedent for the League," he stated. "Even if she saw it in person eyewitness testimony from someone involved with Batman would not hold up as evidence in any court that could convict him, we have to remember that we are still building trust with the governments of the world."

Wonder Woman turned toward him with her eyes narrowing slightly. "What about Robin and Detective Montoya, both of whom confirmed that it was Ethan who kidnapped them and held them for weeks and that he was the one that let them out?" she asked. "That alone should give us grounds to act."

Martian Manhunter shook his head slowly. "I was questioning Ethan at the time Montoya and Robin had been released, and while I am not saying I do not believe them, there is nothing to suggest he has a twin or the ability to produce, so unless he can be in two places at once he has an alibi," he replied. 

Wonder Woman pushed her chair back and stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "We know he is guilty, and yet we are letting man's laws stop us from delivering justice because we are too worried about appearances," she said while she looked around the table at the others. "Batman lies in a coma because of him, and we sit here debating evidence instead of acting to protect the city he dedicated his life to defending."

Aquaman nodded in agreement. "I agree with Wonder Woman on this, sometimes the law move too slowly to handle threats like this one, we have seen what happens when we wait for bureaucracy to catch up," he said. 

Superman raised both hands in a calming gesture. "Everyone, that's enough..." he said loud enough to get their attention.

Once everyone had stopped talking he dropped his arms and sighed. "I understand the frustration and the anger we all feel right now... Batman was my friend too so this hits close to home for me just as it does for all of you," he said. "But we are not above the law, we have to do things the right way if we want to maintain the trust we have built so far."

He waited for a moment while the others settled back into their seats. "We will not be doing nothing, because I sympathize with the need to act, but we have to be careful, the Justice League is still new and the governments of the world are watching us closely," he said while he folded his hands together again. "Many of them want us to fail, and persecuting an eighteen-year-old without anything admissible in court beyond eyewitness testimony would be a sure way to get the League on the bad side of the people we are trying to protect."

"I understand the caution, Superman, but our friend lies in a coma and standing here debating ethics and morality while the city burns feels wrong on every level," Wonder Woman said while she looked directly at him.

"We will not be doing nothing, right now we need to think about the city and the millions of people there," Superman replied as he met her gaze. 

Wonder Woman went to reply but hesitated, she finally nodded and sat down. The conversation then shifted back toward practical support for Gotham while the group discussed options for temporary replacements. "Perhaps we could ask a few independent heroes if they wouldn't mind relocating to Gotham for a few months. All six of us are busy enough as it is and it might be easier if we could contact someone more local who knows the streets," Superman suggested while he pulled up a list of potential candidates on the display.

The others nodded in agreement while they reviewed the names that appeared. "Black Canary has experience with street-level threats and her mentor Wildcat could provide additional muscle and support for the GCPD," Martian Manhunter said as he highlighted their profiles. "They have both expressed interest in helping the league and their skills align well with what Gotham requires right now."

"They would be a good alternative, they operate independently and would not draw as much attention as one of us showing up full time," Aquaman said while he glanced at the others.

The group reached consensus after a few more exchanges, then Superman closed the display with a gesture. "Then it's settled we will reach out to Black Canary and Wildcat to see if they can commit to the role for the coming months," he said while he stood up from his chair. "The meeting is adjourned for now, but we will reconvene if anything changes."

The heroes began to file out of the room one by one. Superman remained at the table while reviewing the medical scans one last time. He wasn't the only one, Wonder Woman lingered behind after the others had left and then walking over to stand beside his chair.

"We are making a mistake by not doing anything about Ethan Kane right now," she said as she looked down at him with her arms crossed again. "We have confirmation from multiple reliable sources, doing nothing after what he did to Batman is wrong."

"We will not be doing nothing,m and he will not get away with this, don't worry Diana," Superman replied as he placed a hand on her shoulder briefly. 

"I will make sure of it."

Wonder Woman held his gaze for a moment before finally looking away. "I hope you mean that Kal, because right now there are two people in the medical wing who have lost someone that means the world to them." Wonder Woman didn't say anything else she just left.

Superman was then left to stew in his thoughts, he turned and looked towards the window which showed a beautiful view of the Earth. It would be so easy for him to fly down there burst into Ethan's apartment and grab him and he'd be lying if he said that a small part of him didn't want to do it.

But where would it end?

In the grand scheme of things what had Ethan done that thousands of others hadn't?

There were a great deal more people that were worse than Ethan that still walk the streets right now. 

Should he use his great power to enforce justice on them too?

In the end Clark didn't think he could make the choice... whether that made him a coward or not didn't bother him. 

In fact it was true. 

He was scared of what he could do. 

What he could do. 

His powers were a gift but also a curse. He wanted to use them to make a better world, but just how far could he go before he ends up going too far. 

Hopefully he'd never have to find out. 

_____________________________________

"Good evening, Gotham. It's been nearly three months since the catastrophic explosion in the Harbor District that claimed the lives of twelve GCPD officers, left dozens more critically injured, and most shockingly resulted in the apparent disappearance of Batman,"

"In the weeks that followed, the city has watched crime rates climb at a pace not seen since the early days of the gang wars in the nineties. The power vacuum left by Iron Row's collapse has triggered open warfare between the remaining factions. Last Tuesday alone, seventeen people were killed in a firefight that spilled out of the old shipping yards onto Kane Street. The Maroni family has claimed three entire blocks along the waterfront, while the the Falcones have responded by torching the Narrows, killing eight and sending thirty more to Gotham General with severe burns."

"The GCPD is stretched to breaking point. Commissioner Gordon has publicly stated that overtime budgets have been exhausted and that officers are working double shifts with no relief in sight. Looting has become epidemic in districts where police presence has been pulled back to concentrate on the harbor conflict. Last night's riot outside the East End Community Center left four dead and over sixty injured after protestors demanding more police protection clashed with riot squads. The mayor's office has called an emergency session tomorrow to discuss federal assistance, but so far the response from Washington has been—"

Click

Ethan reached over from his workbench and pressed the power button on the small television mounted to the wall bracket.

He turned back to the long metal table in front of him where glassware and stainless-steel equipment sat in precise rows. The space had once been used to cut and package heroin before Iron Row lost control of this particular warehouse. Now it was full of stolen equipment that Ethan had acquired over the last few months.

Ethan wore thin nitrile gloves and a disposable lab coat over his street clothes while he adjusted the flow rate on an HPLC column with a small dial, watching the digital display tick upward as the machine separated compounds from the latest batch of his temporary super-soldier serum prototype.

The streets of Gotham had become hell in the months since the harbor explosion, exactly as he had anticipated. The police were barely keeping things together, their patrols reduced to skeleton crews with response times stretching from minutes to over an hour in some districts, entire precincts had to pull officers off routine calls to reinforce the waterfront. Robin and Batgirl, along with the handful of other masked figures still active in the city, worked overtime to the point of exhaustion. 

Ethan had watched helmet-cam footage leaked to underground forums of Robin taking down a six-man Maroni hit squad single-handedly in the East End only to be shot at by another gang three blocks later. 

Last week a firefight between rival crews had spilled into Robinson Park, killing four bystanders and forcing the GCPD to cordon off the entire space while they cleared the bodies. 

Yesterday morning a bomb detonated under a GCPD transport van moving prisoners from Blackgate to Iron Heights... seven officers dead, nineteen inmates escaped, most of them high-value gang lieutenants who immediately vanished back into the turf wars.

All of it was good for Ethan. With so many people distracted the city had become a playground where he could move without scrutiny. He had spent the weeks since the explosion gathering meta abilities. Each new power had been acquired through careful stalking, ambush, and extraction, never more than one target per night. 

All for One was his most carefully guarded secret. 

But in the end the abilities were simply a means to an end. They were tools, instruments given to him by fate or destiny. He could not rely on them alone, he knew better than to believe he could change an entire city through personal force. Even with his current arsenal he remained one man, and one man, no matter how enhanced could not hold territory, enforce order, or rebuild infrastructure across dozens of square miles. 

Gotham needed structure, hierarchy, resources, and manpower, and those things required people. 

Unfortunately, the city was not filled with like-minded individuals, at least not enough to make a difference. So he had to rely on the same worthless cockroaches that everyone else did; druggies, opportunists, former gang members looking for a new paycheck, corrupt officials who could be bought, and street-level muscle who responded to cash and fear in equal measure.

That was where the millions in cash and product he had seized from Iron Row came in handy. He could pay for as much muscle as he needed. But it wasn't just that it would pay for, It would help in starting legitimate businesses. The criminal side would give him raw power and territory control; the official side would give him legitimacy, public perception, and protection from the justice league through popularity.

Anonymity had served him well when he was a ghost in the shadows, but now that the Justice League almost certainly knew his identity from Barbara, the only shield left was the court of public opinion and lack of evidence. If he could become a visible, celebrated figure then any attempt to move against him would face massive backlash. The media would frame it as persecution of Gotham's rising star; politicians would hesitate to act against someone who employed thousands and paid taxes; even the GCPD would think twice before raiding the offices of a man whose factories kept the East End from starving.

His first product would be a high-tech smartphone designed from the ground up for the realities of Gotham life; a reinforced chassis that could survive a two-story drop onto concrete, extended battery life for blackouts that lasted days, an integrated emergency beacon that pinged local frequencies used by first responders, and a price point low enough that even families in the Narrows could afford it. 

He had already purchased three shuttered factories on the outskirts of the industrial district. Over the past six weeks he had modified the equipment himself: upgraded the CNC mills for better tolerances, built a small-scale metal and scrap recycler in the back lot to feed raw materials directly into production, installed solar arrays on the rooftops to keep the buildings rolling during blackouts. 

He was close. 

Another month of refinement, and a soft launch through street-level distributors, and he could begin scaling.

Ethan finished pipetting the final aliquot into the serum vial while he capped it and placed it inside the refrigerated unit with a soft click. He peeled off his gloves, dropped them into the biohazard bin, and stripped out of the lab coat before hanging it on the hook by the door. 

He walked the perimeter of the basement wnd shut down equipment one piece at a time. When everything was secure he climbed the narrow metal stairs to the ground floor of the abandoned warehouse, locked the steel door behind him with a padlock the size of his fist, and slipped out through a side exit that opened onto the alley.

He crossed the asphalt lot to where his current vehicle sat parked under a broken streetlight. The car blended perfectly with the East End's landscape, meaning it was a piece of shit. He slid behind the wheel, started the engine with a cough of exhaust, and pulled out onto the empty street while the radio played faint static until he switched it off.

Halfway back to his apartment the red and blue lights flashed in his rearview mirror and a patrol car accelerated up behind him and hit the siren for two short bursts. Ethan chuckled under his breath and eased off the gas and guided the sedan toward the curb, letting the tires crunch over broken glass before he came to a complete stop. He placed both hands on the steering wheel at ten and two and waited.

Two officers approached from either side. On the driver-side the cop was a broad-shouldered man with a mustache that looked like it belonged in the nineties, the passenger-side a younger woman whose hand rested on the butt of her holstered pistol. 

They knew exactly who he was. 

Everyone in the department knew what had happened to Renee Montoya, and they took every opportunity to give him a hard time within the narrow bounds the law allowed.

"License and registration," the mustached officer said as he shone his flashlight directly into Ethan's eyes while he leaned down to the open window.

Ethan reached slowly into the glove compartment while he narrated each movement. "No problem officer." He pulled out the leather wallet that held his license and the car's registration, then handed both over with his left hand while he kept his right visible on the wheel.

The female officer took the documents and retreated to run them while her partner kept the light in Ethan's face. "Step out of the vehicle," the mustached officer said after a moment. "Hands where I can see them."

Ethan opened the door slowly while he swung his legs out and stood up with both palms facing forward. "May I ask the reason for the stop?"

"You were doing twenty-eight in a twenty-five," the female officer called from behind the patrol car while she held up the license. 

Ethan kept his hands visible while he nodded once. "I must have missed the sign my bad."

The mustached officer stepped closer while he patted Ethan down, finding nothing but a set of keys and a phone. "Turn around and put your hands on the roof."

Ethan complied and placed his palms flat against the warm metal of the car roof and spread his feet shoulder-width apart. The officer conducted a second, slower pat-down while he muttered under his breath about "smart-ass who thinks he's untouchable." When he finished he stepped back and jerked his thumb toward the driver's door. "Im writing you a ticket, make sure to pay it within the Calender month. You're free to go... for now."

Ethan slid back behind the wheel while he accepted his documents from the female officer. Before he closed the door he looked up at both of them with a smile. "Tell Detective Montoya I send my regards when you see her next."

The mustached officer lunged forward with his fist cocked while his face twisted in rage, but the female officer caught his arm and yanked him back with both hands. "Don't," she snapped while she held him in place. "He's baiting you. Let him go."

The mustached officer spat on the pavement while he glared through the windshield. "Fuck off, Kane. And watch your back."

Ethan pulled away from the curb smoothly while he merged back into traffic and continued toward the East End. He had rented a shitty apartment not far from his childhood home. It was the third floor of a walk-up with peeling paint, a landlord who accepted cash and asked zero questions, and neighbors who minded their own business t. The rent was cheap, the locks were easy to pick if he ever forgot his key, and the fire escape gave him a second way out that avoided the hallway cameras the building super had installed last year.

He parked two blocks away in a pay lot that charged by the week, walked the rest of the distance with his hands in his pockets, and climbed the narrow stairwell up to the third-floor landing he stopped in front of 3C, inserted the key, and turned it with a soft click.

Ethan opened the door and stepped inside, he dropped his keys into the chipped ceramic bowl by the door while he shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the back of a chair. He walked to the counter while he picked up a bottle of juice from the fridge and poured it out into a glass. He lifted the glass in a toast to the empty room before he took a slow sip.

The cold liquid slid down his throat and settled in his stomach before he set the glass back down on the  countertop and wiped his mouth. He walked across the small kitchen area and moved toward the desk in the corner where his laptop sat closed beside a stack of notebooks filled with chemical formulas and schematics. 

As he reached out to open the laptop lid, his phone vibrated against his thigh inside his pocket, he pulled it free while he glanced at the screen. He put it to his ear and answered it. "Yeah," he said in a flat tone.

"It's done," the voice said before he paused to clear his throat. "I got what you wanted from the records room at Arkham. Had to pull a double shift and wait until the night shift change to slip in without anyone noticing, but I copied the files exactly like you asked. Sending them through the secure email now. You should have them in less than a minute."

Ethan nodded to himself and opened the laptop before he entered the first password in the sequence of three that unlocked the encrypted partition on the hard drive. "Send it through now," he said as he typed the second password and waited for the desktop to load fully. "I want to see them immediately."

The officer exhaled on the line while. "It's going out right now. Check your inbox in a few seconds. And remember, this is the last time I stick my neck out like this. If anyone finds out I pulled those records, my career is finished."

Ethan entered the final password before he opened the email client. "Your payment will be in the usual spot by tomorrow morning," he said as the new message appeared with an attachment labeled 

"Arkham_File_patient." 

The officer muttered something under his breath before he ended the call with a quick "Done," and the line went dead. Ethan set the phone down on the desk beside the laptop and clicked the attachment and waited for the files to download. When the download completed he opened the folder and found only three patient files inside instead of the larger selection he had expected. He picked the phone back up and redialed the officer's number while he held it to his ear again.

The officer answered on the first ring while he sounded slightly out of breath. "What now?"

Ethan scrolled through the three files and opened the first one, scanning the header information. "This is it?" he asked. "Only three names? I asked for anyone who fit my specifications or at least we're close to them."

The officer sighed loudly into the phone while he shifted his weight and moved to a quieter spot. "Yeah, that's all of them," he said while he lowered his voice further. "Arkham is filled with fucking nut jobs and murderers who are either too unstable to be reliable or too broken to follow orders. I pulled every record they had and these three were the only ones that came close without being complete liabilities. The rest are either vegetables from years of electroshock or psychopaths who would turn on you the second you looked away."

"I see," he said after a long pause while he absorbed the information on the screen. The officer grunted in acknowledgment before he ended the call without another word. 

Ethan set the phone down once more and leaned forward in the chair while he opened all three files side by side on the screen and began reading them in detail.

Patient ID: A-0174

Name: Pamela Isley

Alias: Poison Ivy

Age: 27

Diagnoses (primary): Narcissistic personality disorder with dissociative features; severe ecopathy (pathological identification with plant life); delusional parasitosis (believes human flesh is toxic to chlorophyll-based organisms). 

Secondary: PTSD from repeated childhood exposure to organophosphate pesticides; erotomanic fixation on "the Green" (self-defined plant consciousness).

Summary of criminal acts: Multiple counts of aggravated assault, kidnapping, homicide (botanical toxins), eco-terrorism. Subject uses genetically modified pheromones and plant-derived neurotoxins to control victims. 

Last incident: released airborne spores into Gotham Botanical Gardens gala, inducing mass respiratory failure in 47 attendees (9 fatalities). Claims actions were "defensive pruning of parasitic humanity."

Treatment notes (Dr. H. Quinzel):

Patient remains lucid and articulate during sessions but displays zero remorse. Repeatedly states that human civilization is a cancer and that she is the cure. Responds positively to discussions of environmental collapse but becomes agitated when confronted with moral counterarguments. Pheromone production appears stress-triggered; recommend Level-4 containment protocols. 

Note: subject has attempted to cultivate vines inside ventilation ducts on three separate occasions. Security upgrade approved. 

Prognosis: poor. Recommend indefinite incarceration.

Ethan closed the file and opened the second.

Patient ID: A-0421

Name: Mindy McCready

Alias: Hit-Girl

Age: 16

Diagnoses (primary): Conduct disorder with psychopathic features; complex PTSD; hypervigilance syndrome; severe impulse-control deficits. Secondary: attachment disorder secondary to prolonged childhood exposure to extreme violence; dissociative episodes during combat simulation.

Summary of criminal acts: Multiple counts of first-degree murder, aggravated assault, weapons violations, vigilantism resulting in civilian casualties. Subject trained from early childhood as an assassin by her father (deceased). Post-admission incidents include: assault on three orderlies with improvised shivs fashioned from cafeteria utensils (one fatality); attempted escape via ventilation shaft (recaptured after killing two guard dogs); repeated attacks on other inmates identified as "criminals". Subject expresses extreme hatred for organized crime figures and has stated on record that she intends to "finish the job" upon release.

Treatment notes (Dr. L. Ryland):

Patient is highly intelligent (estimated IQ 142) but completely devoid of empathy toward perceived wrongdoers. Displays no fear response to pain or threat. During interviews repeatedly asks about the status of known Gotham criminals and becomes agitated when informed they remain at large. Physical restraints required for all sessions. 

Note: subject has memorized guard shift patterns and has drawn detailed maps of the facility on stolen paper. Recommend solitary confinement and Level-5 suicide watch. 

Prognosis: guarded. High risk of reoffending if released.

Ethan exhaled through his nose and clicked the third file.

Patient ID: A-0098

Name: Sofia Falcone

Alias: Hangman

Age: 20

Diagnoses (primary): Antisocial personality disorder; post-traumatic stress disorder; major depressive disorder with psychotic features. 

Secondary: dissociative identity elements.

Summary of criminal acts: Charged with six counts of first-degree murder by strangulation/hanging. Victims were all female, ages 19–34, found suspended from various public locations in the Bowery and East End with signs reading. Subjects family all submitted letters attesting to her mental illness. 

Treatment notes (Dr. E. Combs):

[Redacted]

Note: You must be wondering why I included this file Kane, its because I got wind of the fact that Carmine Falcone purposely put his daughter in Arkham and is keeping her locked up in here for crimes she didn't commit. I don't know why, but I do know that the doctors caring for her are on his payroll. 

Ethan leaned back in the chair until the springs protested, then laced his fingers behind his head while he stared at the ceiling. A small smile curved his mouth.

They weren't perfect but they would do nicely. 

Ivy wanted to change society, even if her vision was warped. Hit-Girl burned with the same hatred for criminals that Ethan could respect and if the note was right Sofia would want revenge against the family that let her rot in Arkham for a year while they paid doctors to keep her quiet. More importantly, she had the business sense to run an organization, both the street side and the boardroom side.

But first he had to break them out.

He closed the laptop, stood, and walked to the single window that overlooked the alley.

Perhaps it was time for his debut as a Villain. 

(AN: Ngl it's a pretty bad chapter I know but I hate writing boring stuff and writing about him clearing up his loose ends is just boring. Renee and Robin were freed by his Doppelgänger in case you couldn't tell. Ethan did it at a time where he was being interviewed by Martian Manhunter so that it couldn't be used against him. Anyway that's really the only important thing that happened. Now we'll be going into Ethan's crusade against crime.)