Sapter Chummary:
An insect is collected by wolves.
An animal relishes a part of its collection of prey.
Birds like to collect knowledge.
A cat starts collecting friends. Or... is collected by them?
— — — — — — — —
⚠️ N O T I C E ⚠️
This chapter has an 18+ scene. The content gets uncomfortable in one of the sections. You have been warned.
If you still want to read this chapter but do not wish to see that part, skip the chunk of content between the first and second [◎ ◉ ◎].
— — — — — — —
Regular people got police officers. They get carted around like cattle, stuffed into regular cars or trucks when they broke the law. Or, when they didn't but were taken in anyway.
'And that's if they got lucky and weren't killed on the spot... fucking pigs.'
On the other hand, metahumans and other equally dangerous individuals got armored transport, borderline military personnel, and sometimes, additional armed escort caravans of varying size.
One such armored transport hummed through a barren street in Gotham, destined for Blackgate Penitentiary.
'That's odd,' thought Drury Walker.
He'd been to Blackgate before, and escaped just as many times. This route, though... Even if he couldn't see outside of the sealed-up truck, their path didn't make sense considering the holding facility he was just taken from. The transport was taking the longer way around for some reason. He would have asked these guards assigned to him why they were being so roundabout with his transfer, but he didn't feel the need to. The armored truck had just slowed to a halt, and he was about to find out.
"Mr. Walker."
One of the guards that were supposed to be watching Drury stood up. With heavy footsteps punctuated by the shifting of composite armor, the guard approached the partition that separated him from the prisoner.
Walker rose to his feet in response, approaching the barrier himself. The manacles that kept his legs bound together chafed against his skin, and the chains between them jingled as they slid across the metal floor.
Jailor and prisoner met eye to eye through reinforced glass.
"To what do I owe the displeasure, mister officer sir?" Walker said to break the silence.
"We have an offer for you," said the guard. "An avenue to freedom."
"Well, that doesn't give me much," Walker responded. "Tell me a little more, why don't you?"
He stepped just a little bit closer to the partition that separated him from his watchers. No response in body language, he noted. At least they were professional.
"Someone with pull wants to employ your services. We can take you to them if you agree to speak while restrained."
"And...? That could mean anything. At least tell me how long this 'employment' will be for, and what I get out of it in the end."
"You only need to do what you usually do," the guard explained. "Several weeks at most is our timetable, but we anticipate extensions. Just focus on helping our employer with the job they want you for, and you'll walk free with new technology and knowledge once the it's done."
Walker took in a breath, and promptly puffed it out through his nose. "Tempting. When do I get to meet this boss of yours if I agree?"
"They'll be expecting you. You'll get an audience within the week, if not tonight."
A chuckle and a smile. "Alright, then... bring me to your owner."
◎ ◉ ◎
Aleck casually reclined a plush, luxurious sofa in his penthouse. A fireplace roared before him, bathing the dark living space in warmth and light. Various electronic devices sat discarded on the coffee table between him and the flames, turned off for the time being. He wanted a break from work.
A fine red blanket was draped over him, and there was another form beneath the cloth. He caressed this person's fluffy hair while sipping on some expensive wine, and the figure shifted languidly.
Sleepily fawning over him was a woman his age. Her body was slender — borderline skinny. Just a few missed meals away from malnourished. She planted reverent kisses over his chest and neck while her hands roamed his toned abdomen.
'Heavenly,' Aleck thought. 'My own little cut of paradise.'
The woman's body shuddered, accompanied by a whining sigh.
"Enjoying yourself, Miss Watson?" Aleck's voice was lower than usual. Husky. It was difficult to see in the low firelight, but his cheeks were flushed.
From beneath the blanket, an adorable little thing popped out. Light, fluffy hair framed her face. Wide, round eyes stared back up at his, before closing so she could nuzzle into his chest.
"I'll take that as a yes," Aleck chuckled.
Tamara Watson had been his property for several years now. Getting to her was easy, especially since he met her during a volatile phase of her life. Her father was removed from a company that Aleck's own father had annexed. Underworld business, obviously — business that produced a prime coincidence to exploit.
On top of that, Miss Watson's mother was slated to be deployed to South Korea in that same year. Add to that the unpredictability of teenage rebellion, raging hormones, and the promise of a popular, wealthy boyfriend as a bonus...
He had her hook, line, and sinker.
Aleck placed his hand on top of the girl's head. He shimmied his fingers lightly through her hair until he was caressing her scalp, and a soft, faint tingling could be felt in his fingertips.
As for Tammy, she felt a familiar strong buzz at the top of her skull, like something was shaking her brain. Her mind and vision went hazy, and her eyes rolled around and went half-lidded as her entire body shuddered.
Aleck's smile smoldered as a heated sigh escaped his pet's throat. Then, without prompting, Miss Watson disappeared under the blanket once more. This time, she went lower than before, and the shape in the cloth started bobbing up and down.
The brows on Aleck's face creased in restraint, and he nearly crushed the wineglass in his left hand. His right continued to caress Miss Watson's head while keeping up the psionic flow, and he had to take in deep breaths to keep from being overwhelmed.
'This girl is such a gem. I couldn't be prouder.'
Unfortunately, life just couldn't let Aleck enjoy himself.
Soon after Miss Watson started pleasuring him of her own accord, his phone rang on the coffee table. It was his private phone; not the business phone that he had put on Do Not Disturb.
With a flat expression, almost a frown, he breathed deeply. His body could still feel the pleasure of Miss Watson's passion, but his mind had been ripped away from it.
He exercised the minor telekinetic ability that he had developed over the years to bring the damnable device to him.
'This had better be important...'
He would only answer if it was his father, mother, or an urgent business item.
Peering down at the device now in his hand, he noted the name of one of his Venom enforcers. That ruled out his parents.
He hit the green accept button on the screen and brought the phone to his ear.
"Speak," he demanded.
"Sir. We've gotten Killer Moth out of holding and into our custody."
Aleck's brows quirked up. 'That's good news, at least,' he thought, pleased. "I assume he's already requested an audience?"
"Yes, sir."
"Tell him that he will be brought to me at 2 PM tomorrow. I would have liked to meet him tonight, but I'm preoccupied with something important."
"I'll let him know, sir. Enjoy your night."
The call ended with that, and Aleck sighed tiredly. He sent a quick text to his secretary to fit the meeting with Killer Moth into his schedule for the next day, and returned his attention to Miss Watson.
"Hm... time to savor this while I can."
◎ ◉ ◎
Batman and the Manticore had moved to the back edge of the police HQ's rooftop. The lights from the surrounding buildings barely illuminated them, not directly, but the sky... the heavy smog clouds reflected the collective light pollution, bathing them in the faintest murky glow. The wind had stopped blowing as well, leaving them in absolute silence.
The Manticore was the first to speak. "So... those people that was after me. Any leads?"
Batman nodded. "That man who chased you down. I've already identified his employer. Does the name Aleck Donovan sound familiar?"
"No... no, I've never heard of 'im. What else do you know?"
Lucian was given the basics of the situation. Aleck was part of an affluent family that held some influence in Gotham. Most of their reach was only surface-level and they were only involved in a handful of important, but they had been delving more and more into the underworld's business since their current patriarch took over. The change happened after the death of the previous one, some four years ago.
Aleck was his family's golden child. The prodigy. He was also the younger and more ambitious of two children, and he leveraged his better-than-average mind, appearance, and charisma to get his way.
"Eugh... he already sounds like trouble," the Manticore grumbled.
Batman just kept staring ahead over the skyline. "He is, and there's more."
The flow of information continued. Aleck was more dangerous than just a brilliant mind with the means to actualize his desires. He had more literal powers. Psionics.
Only a select few people knew.
Aleck's metahuman abilities helped him greatly in his endeavors, based on what Batman had learned so far.
He omitted this next part of the story from Lucian, but the Donovans used to be a reputable family. They supported the Waynes during Thomas' time, but now, something had changed. They were slowly pulling away from Wayne Enterprise, and he was already half sure that this had all been Aleck's influence. He just needed more concrete evidence...
Expanding on the Donovans' underworld business, Batman revealed that Aleck headed all of their more daring pursuits.
His father embezzled company funds, smuggled goods into the city, trafficked exotic animals for parties that could afford them.
His mother organized red light entertainment, made under-the-counter deals for 'personnel,' and cozied up with other powerful individuals to curry favor.
Aleck himself... he started with drug production and distribution. Disturbingly, this happened before he entered college. After he graduated and had gotten into university came weapons — powerful ones. The type that didn't belong to civilian hands. Beyond even police capabilities. Now, they were even delving into experimental weaponry that should only belong in science fiction media, and he was branching out into arming Gotham's more ambitious factions with them.
"He's dangerous," the Manticore said finally. The venom could be tasted in his voice, even through his Cloak of Distortion.
Batman hummed his agreement. "I think that's enough about Aleck for now," he then said.
After some hesitation, the Manticore nodded. "Alright, then. While we're here, do you have anything in mind that we could do? Train, patrol, whatever? If not, I think I'll just run around and scare a few more fucklenuts before tapping out."
"I do have something," Batman replied. "Follow me down the building. There's someone I want you to meet."
And so they scaled down from the rooftop — Batman with his grapple hook, and the Manticore using Blackwhip.
The former took note of the new... thing that the latter had. He'd already noticed the cape, and now, it proved to be a more versatile piece of equipment than he first thought.
The descent led them to the parking lot behind the building. It was a small area, but only because taking up more space was unnecessary. Within the headquarters proper was even more parking space, and there was a lot more underneath. Whatever was above ground would do.
Batman led the way to the very back of the surface parking, where he had left the Batcycle. The heavy monster of a bike was mostly matted black, and any exposed metal had been dulled of its glossy sheen.
Lucian, meanwhile, was fanboying under his mask at the sight of the vehicle. His expression never changed, but his inner child demanded that he ask to take the bike out for a joyride.
'Self-control, man. We can just make our own bike.'
Batman got on the Batcycle and gestured behind himself "Hop on. We'll ride there."
'You don't gotta tell me twice,' thought Lucian, wordlessly getting on the bike as told.
The experience was a markedly different one from riding on Inigo's rickety old motorcycle. Batman's ride was smooth. Secure. It felt luxurious, if that was even the right word — it felt like the bike just glided even over rough terrain.
The powerful engine barely shook the motorcycle's body, and beyond being absent of sputtering, it didn't even make much noise. Hell, even the suspension was smoother than a newborn baby's behind.
Overall, the Batcycle like a large beast that stalked with stealth and speed that didn't fit its size and bulk.
Lucian shuddered at the thought of what the Batmobile might be like.
"So, where are we going? Who we gonna meet?" he asked as Batman pulled onto the smaller streets.
"You'll see when we get there."
◎ ◉ ◎
Nightwing felt great satisfaction, having helped Batman out of an emotional slump. It was like he had helped himself feel better by proxy of helping his father.
He resisted reminiscing on childhood memories as he rode through Gotham on the Wingcycle, the engine barely audible as he advanced.
His destination was a certain car chopshop in the Bowery. Something like that usually would have never been put in his family's crosshairs, but it was a little too fishy, too slimy whenever he and Batman checked.
Just to make sure, he even checked on the physical and digital files on the place one more time before heading out. It turned out to belong to the Donovan family, and had been getting unusual traffic as of late. It was his job to investigate more directly.
When Nightwing neared his destination, he deliberately parked a good distance from the chopshop that was quite honestly well-disguised. He went to tread the rest of the way on foot.
Climbing up some lower buildings to stay elevated and keep out of sight, he circled the location. A pair of technologically-advanced binoculars allowed him to get a much closer look at what was going on inside.
He identified some 'loiterers' around the chopshop. They certainly looked the part of no-good bums with nothing better to do with their lives, but Nightwing knew what they were.
Their postures were too rigid, actions too deliberate and coordinated. There was also the uniform firearms that they carried, and the hard look in their eyes. Instead of the edge gained by living in a rough neighborhood, theirs betrayed training and purposely-broken discipline.
They were the place's security, without any doubt.
Deciding that it was time to act, Nightwing tightened his circle around the area. He picked off the disguised guards as they rotated, one by one, group by group. They were all incapacitated before they could alert their allies.
Nightwing employed various means to take them out. Asphyxiation, striking certain pressure points, or a quick and reliable knockout punch. He had no love for organized criminals of their nature.
Every single guard that he had taken out was brought to obscure locations out of sight, where they were then gagged and tied up, and deprived of their equipment. They'd be reported to the GCPD later.
The systematic series of takedowns eventually led to suspicion from the security that stayed inside the chopshop itself. They unwisely broke off in pairs to investigate outside, and were picked off like their friends. Those who stayed behind were eventually eliminated as well, and Nightwing could finally enter the building safely.
...
It didn't take very long for him to find a hidden entrance inside the building. His well-trained eye and years of experience made sure of that.
The hidden 'door' was locked electronically, needing input from a swipe-style scanner concealed behind a non-functioning electrical box. Nightwing never found any access cards or the like from the guards that he encountered, so he had to resort to breaking in.
He pried the scanner open and crossed some wires here and there. The lock was eventually bypassed, and the wall panel slid open with a mechanical hiss. Beyond it was a set of stairs that led to the basement
Into the beast's maw went the greater lophorina.
Inside, Nightwing had to pick off more and more armed goons. Breaking out more of his tools, he used some smoke bombs to disorient the enemies. They were a variant that disrupted bodily coordination, and his respirator mask prevented him from being affected.
Later on, when hand-to-hand proved unreliable, he then started using his electrified eskrima sticks. Screams rang out with each takedown from then on. Grunts echoed left and right, and people doubled over either unconscious, in pain, or spasming from electricity.
As Nightwing was dealing with what he hoped would be the last crowd of the night, his earpiece started beeping. He pressed one of the tiny buttons on it to answer while dodging wild swings from at least four different opponents.
"This is Nightwing," he said while smacking away some thug armed with an electrified sword. That was a surprise, since nobody else had used weapons like that until then. "Kinda in the middle of something right now."
"There's been a development," Batman said through the comms. "I'll come to your location with someone."
"Alright, I'll be waiting." A wild swing whooshed past Nightwing's head as he ducked under a crackling hammer. "Whoops — nice try, big guy."
Noises of tased agony rang out on Batman's side as an eskrima stick electrocuted a man right in his diaphragm.
"Anyway, hurry it up if you want in on the fun! I don't know how many people are still awake over here, but it'd be a shame if all you had to deal with was cleanup!"
Batman's communicator disconnected, and Nightwing returned his full focus on fighting.
...
Only a short amount of time later, Nightwing wrapped up his business. The entire ordeal went by much quicker than he anticipated.
The scale of this facility's operation was small, at least compared to his expectations. Now that he had taken down every single personnel in the area, he went and found what amounted to a command center, hidden deep in the basement. He dug through their digital and physical databases for anything and everything useful.
'They've spread out their illegal operations... Smart. On top of that, this one was just a tiny branch, even though it had cannibalized the surrounding buildings' basements.'
He peeped a digital map of the operations' network. The names of people and locations all confirmed that this was Aleck Donovan's doing. Fortuitously, this also gave him a direct lead to where he should go next.
'One major location isn't too far from here. If we take that place down, it would seriously cripple their coordination.'
Nightwing thought back to his family — the other bats and birds. A lot of them were also now on the Donovan case. As a matter of fact, he was the last to be brought in after dealing with a ninja problem in Bludhaven — apart from Blackbat and the Signal, who were both busy with their own things at present. He wished everyone the best of luck as he continued digging.
Beyond more intel, all that he found in this location were small arms and lesser quality drugs that were already prepared for distribution. Not a good hit on paper, but the information locked away on-site was the key to a chain of operations being shut down. Add to that the confirmation of what lay in the larger branch...
'They're operating out of a supposedly abandoned factory a little ways north. High-caliber firearms and ballistics... armor made with advanced technology... energy weapons... high-purity drugs, and even a variant of Venom...'
Nightwing would have thought it a jackpot if not for the operation's nature.
Letting it sink in that there was still much to be done, he left the building and went to go wait for Batman outside. Minutes later, the Batcycle pulled up and parked in a vacant spot nearby.
His old man's companion took him by surprise.
"Hey!" he greeted, raising a hand and walking up to them. "Didn't think I'd meet you so soon."
The Manticore supplied a nod, but said nothing.
"What's the situation?" Batman asked, and Nightwing gave what he knew so far.
"When do you plan to go after them?" Batman followed up.
"Right now, if there's nothing more urgent than this."
"That's good." Batman turned to address the Manticore. "You're going with Nightwing while I clean up here and double-check everything. Get to know each other and learn to cooperate effectively. Depending on how things go, you might join us in striking out against Aleck."
"Alright, got it," the Manticore replied. His voice was unnaturally deep with an obvious distortion. Nightwing assumed it was some sort of voice changer in the mask's metal mouthpiece.
Batman strode on ahead into the dealership, leaving his former protégé alone with the rookie.
...
Lucian was pumped. First, he got to meet Batman directly for the second time since his new life started. Then, he got to hitch a ride on the Batcycle. Now, he was even meeting Nightwing.
It was unreal.
"So..." Nightwing started leading the way to the Wingcycle. "I assume you like bikes?"