My fate is beholden to the woman who gave birth to me.
In this life’s case, then, it is the ever so lovely Mother Maria Serana. Sure, she is a chatty one, ever so quickly to hold me as if I was made of soap bubbles, but to be loved unrequited by a mother is to be loved forever.
I will miss her. If, and, frankly, that’s a big if, I ever do get my memory back in a new body for the second time in a row, I will forever cherish her love, however short it may have been.
My morbid thoughts were severed when my metal cage opened up and allowed me to see the first hints of light in the past few hours. A joyful thought appears briefly in my mind, perhaps someone had been strong enough to save me, but soon those thoughts burn through like a short candle wick.
The masked leader of the assailants shows his face, his gleaming pure white eyes peering through me like a curious hound.
“What’s up?” I say to him with a smile on my face.
“Interesting.” The masked leader says, his owl mask not moving one bit. He grabs me by the front hem of my very expensive shirt and moves me out of my cage.
The light opens up to a vast chamber, one of Gotham’s sewer lines judging by the murky water running through the indentations.
“Well, frankly, you’re the third most powerful man to ever say that to me. Do you mind?” I motion for my bounded wrists. The masked leader ignores me, of course. “You know, I don’t say this often, but do you know who my would-be mentor is?
'What am I saying? Of course, they know.'
“Yes.” He confirms my thoughts.
Before I could speak with the masked leader once more, terrible footsteps, reminiscent of my stupid uncle’s fighting chickens, echo throughout the underground chamber. The hollow walls soon give way to twelve owl-like humanoids with bird claws for human feet and hands. Their long robes barely hide their long, hooked beaks.
I give a weary sigh, inwardly complaining about Gotham criminals’ fascination regarding avians. “Look, fellas, if you’re here to ransom me, then I have to tell you that my father is poor right now. Recession hit him like a freight train on Adderall!”
“A mouth on this one. SQUAWK!” One of the twelve speaks, startling me with his squawking.
“No matter, tsk, tsk. The sacrifice will continue, tsk, tsk.” Another one gives a comment, having his own set of linguistic problems.
There was something nagging me about this whole scenario. The owl mask, the chamber of secrets, the whole avian bondage set-up, and the fact that they kidnapped me on Gotham and not when I was in Metropolis.
I curse my lack of knowledge regarding DC Comics. That damn reboot biting my tiny heinie.
To be perfectly honest, I was never a deep fan of the comics, often only reading what came into my purview or shared by my more geeky friends.
In fact, the only thing I had extensive knowledge of was the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Which, I know, is quite ironic since that will probably get me killed.
The twelve deliberated my ‘preparedness’ for the ‘ritual’, leaving me with some time to formulate a plan to escape.
I scan my surroundings, intent on finding a clear escape route, but soon find that all exits are guarded by masked figures, not unlike those of the masked leader
A snicker escapes my lips, gaining the attention of the masked leader.
“Apologies,” I whisper, knowing he has enhanced senses. It’s an educated guess since he bested Olgar in a hand-to-hand combat.
“Since I’m going to die, could you tell me your name?” I ask, using my best and most effective weapon: my eight-year-old brown puppy-dog eyes.
“Talon.” He says.
My eyes widen as my mind races to find any familiar feeling of his name. And, thank fucking god, I did. There was an animated movie about Batman’s son that got my attention because The Dollmaker was voiced by “Weird Al”.
“Batman vs. Robin.” I mutter instinctively as my mind reaches for the memories of the film.
He heard me, apparently, because the look in his mask is priceless. Even underneath all that metal, the sheer palpitations in his featureless features were great. It is a shame, however, since I’m going to die. If not, this would have been the highlight of my year.
“We must begin immediately. I fear Batman will find us soon.” Talon reminds the twelve bipedal avians.
“Bah! The bat has been dealt with.” One of the twelve spoke, its head tilting every so often.
“What do you mean?” Talon’s voice grows deeper.
“The Elder has set up a trap that will kill the bat, tsk, tsk.” The clicking silk-robed avian answers.
“We have orders from the Judge to never interfere with the Batman. You dare disobey?” Talon clenches his fists as three claw-like blades protrude from his gloved knuckles.
The other masked figures guarding the chamber moves menacingly at the behest of their leader. It seems that Talon has a direct line to upper management.
“Enough, Talon.” One of the twelve steps up, a burly figure that, unlike the rest, had no beak and possessed human feet. He still has claws for hands, so still a mutant like his kin. “We will proceed with the sealing ritual. I will handle the punishment for killing the Batman.”
The Talon hums in disgruntled acceptance, lowering my chances of escape to practically nil.
Oh, well.
“Might as well, right?” I smirk to the Talon as I yoke free of his loose grasp and run towards the nearest hole. My voice, the highest and loudest it could ever be, bursted through the vast and lonely chamber. “HELP! My father is currently rich! I’m being sacrificed by bird monsters! HELP! I can help you invest in crypto-currency! Although you have to be fast to sell it because the whole block-chain is a time- argh!”
Alas, poor me, the nearest masked owl, whose speed was barely captured by my eyes, appears before me and tapes my mouth shut. And, to my utter indignation carries me on his shoulder before drawing near the twelve robed bird monsters.
“Enough! Let us begin. Bring forth the metahumans! SQUAWK!”
The avian hybrid’s words echoed around the chamber as ten metal cages with thick metal bars descended from above. The prisoners’ forms were pale and bloody as if beaten to death before being captured.
The war crime is, frankly, the least of my concern as a large steel table ascended from the center of the chamber in which my masked owl captor put me on.
“Hmhmhp-” I tried licking the seal on my mouth as fast as I could as the masked owl chained my legs and arms on the table.
They then brought out large plastic tubes and connected a syringe on one end. Fearing what they might do next I closed my eyes to only hear the screams of agony emanating from the prisoners.
My curiosity getting the best of me, I opened them once more and saw the utter carnage done to the metahumans. The syringe ends of the plastic tube were stabbed into their necks, so blood can pump out as fast as possible towards…
“Ghmdmamgm!” The crimson liquid pooled around the steel table and, defying physics, seemed to go up the indentations embedded within. Soon, my tongue hit a rough spot as I tasted the bitter adhesive that made the seal stick to my mouth.
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“Begin!” The words of the hybrid leader resounded across the blood-filled chambers as the ensuing echoes of pain and rhythmic chants overloaded my infantile senses.
Tears fled my eyes like a war refugee, mouth foaming at the garbled mess of saliva and worn adhesive. My bound appendages resisted against the metal binding, but found no solace in my, arguably, better than average strength.
Only one thought swirled around my fragile mind: I don’t want to die again.
As if responding to my thoughts, the pool of blood bore into existence with a crimson glow, slowly slithering in the air as it struck every part of my body, drilling holes like it owed me money.
Pain befell me like it had never been before. It was as if I was numb to the emotion of agony before this. It began with the holes, aching and pulsing, before expanding inwards.
It hit the nerves first; then came for the muscles, causing me to spasm in place; next, it launched itself away and unto my delicate organs, slowly, but surely, enveloping my lungs, then kidneys, and, lastly, my heart.
Just when I had thought, even if I had any semblance of thought left, a blood stream hit my brain. It cut off my retina, so I could no longer see, then went to my ears and nose.
Pain is all I am now. Pain is all I will ever be now. Pain is my life.
Before I knew it, darkness soon befall me.
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I awake to a startling, but joyous, conclusion: I can feel again.
In fact, I could feel the cold touch of the metal binding, the echoes of faint screams and pained grunts, the smell of blood, ash, and lavender, and the sight of blood, black cowls, and red underpants.
“Jesus Christ?” My words come out reflexively, mind racing on the how. Before I see the mouth seal loose on one side, dripping with drool.
The man up above flies towards me, not at all minding the blades and bullets raining up from below. He speaks in a gentle, but firm, tone. “Nope, Superman!”
“Now, tell me if this hurts, alright?” The big blue boy scout continues as he gently touches my wrist and, with great ease, wrangles my hand free.
I try not to wince in front of Superman, but find the sensitivity of my body is turned to its maximum setting. “S-sorry…”
He smiles at me, and what a radiant smile it is. “That’s alright, son. Just hold tight.”
Superman breaks the rest of my bindings and holds me in his warm, burly arms as we fly upwards. Being so up close and personal to the most important man in the universe brings me a kind of comfort no man could ever do. Like hugging a warm marshmallow that could also destroy a planet with one sneeze.
“Mr. Luthor was right.” I mutter, earning one of his ear’s attention. “You really are cuddly.”
The man nearly drops me to the ground when he hears my muttering. He tries to hide his reaction, but, surprisingly, I could somehow feel his heart beating a notch too fast before returning to a steady state.
Weird.
What’s even weirder is me tempting fate by saying what I said, knowing full well that Superman and Lex had a ‘complicated’ relationship. I must be too much out of it.
I scan the room as we fly up. Batman, in slightly bulkier armor, performs a series of agile stunts as he glides around the room, knocking people out.
Two masked owls corner him as he trips down the sewage water. The first masked owl throws a punch, but the bat diverts the incoming fist to hit his partner. He then swiftly takes out a Batarang whose sides lights up with a blue glow and throws it at the sewage water as he leaps up to high ground.
The Batarang strikes the water, releasing thousands of volts of electricity and incapacitating the masked owls that had dipped their toes in the water.
“Get the kid!” Talon roars as he fires a grappling hook at the top of the chamber and flies towards us.
“He… can’t be killed,” I mutter weakly.
Superman furrows his brows at my words before his eyes lights up and out comes a small crimson beam that destroys the grappling line.
Talon sees his line get destroyed, but still tries to go after us. With an inhumane agility, he went to his other belt and pulled another grappling hook, firing it and heading towards us without losing a single momentum.
Unfortunately, a single kick from the man of steel was all it took for him to crash down the sewer. The concrete caved in from his fall, blood gushing out of his broken facsimile of a body.
“I’ll be heading out first, Batman.” Superman says to Batman as the latter throws out an Electric Batarang at an incoming masked owl. “I’ll just drop off Edmund and come back for you.”
The target masked owl evades the Batarang, but fails to see another Batarang from down below. This one has a large cylinder in the middle that opens up and splits into two halves with a wire in the middle. It wraps the masked owl’s legs together and forces him to stumble into the sewer water below.
The Electric Batarang hits the edge of the sewer line and still shocks the masked owl.
“No need. We already have our target.” Batman throws beads around him as smoke billows forth, hiding his terrifying form.
Seeing the torture had passed, I close my eyes and fall into deep slumber, the cold embrace of darkness welcoming me into its presence.
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*Superman (POV)*
The Gotham skyscrapers welcome the warm comfort of light as the first rays of soon dawning sun begin to come up into the horizon.
“A new dawn.” I mutter, a smile on my face as I carry the unconscious, but definitely still alive, body of Edmund Serana towards the nearest rooftop.
The Batman stands solemnly atop a gargoyle as he gazes at his city. Dangerous thoughts must be swirling in that mind of his.
From what I’ve seen in those tunnels, the Court of Owls is as dangerous as they are hidden in plain sight. If not for the fact that they had lined their underground chambers with lead and I was trained to detect that, then Edmund might have been dead before we got to him.
“Penny for your thoughts, Batman.” I ask the masked vigilante.
Unlike him, the mayor of Metropolis has acknowledged me as their hero. I’m sure Gotham would too if he just stopped brooding or if they know he truly exists.
“My thoughts are too valuable for a penny.” He replies glumly.
I nearly give a thoughtless sigh before I see the glint in his eyes. “I-Is that a… joke?”
Batman hums as he continues regarding Gotham. “It’s best if you deliver the boy to his parents. I’ll call Gordon and tell him about our problem.”
While I thought it best if he delivered Edmund, I admire his fastidious wariness about his identity. At the very least, no one but the Court of Owls and select people will know that Batman saved the boy.
“You know, this is a good thing, you and I teaming-up.” I say in a hopeful tone. “Maybe we could-”
“No.” That was his curt answer.
“No? Really? You didn’t think that with your deductive ability and my awesome list of powers worked really well in saving the boy in a nick of time?” I reason out.
“Maybe.” He says, turning his back on me.
“I’ll take a, maybe.” My smile reaches my ears as I fly towards the Serana estate, covering Edmund from the rough winds.
The flight is a lot longer since Edmund has a fragile body, but I find myself in the manor proper just before the sun rises.
My form, bathed in a golden light, descends into the manor under the sight of its inhabitants and the police.
As my feet lands on the ground, my words comes out gentle and safe. “Your son is here.”
Without a moment's hesitation, a woman whom I assume to be Edmund’s mother runs towards us and cradles her baby boy.
Her sobs interrupted by her intermittent offering of consolation to her bloodied son as she whispered sweet nothings and committed herself to never again leaving his sight.
A smile appears on my face as I gaze longingly at the mother and son, my mind bringing forth memories of old.
Looks like I’ll be doing Bingo with Ma Kent tonight.
I turn my back from the scene and prepared to take off when my eyes widened at the sight of the sun. I turn towards a mustached man with brown-framed eyeglasses. “Uh, what time is it?”
The man looks at his watch. “About 5:39 in the morning.”
'Oh, fudge.'
I tear through the air as I make my way towards Metropolis. Flying under the landing airplane, I dive towards the streets and zipped past the hawkers and workers as I surreptitiously enter my apartment.
Without further ado, I change my clothes to the ones used by Clark and hurry out of the building.
Thankfully, I arrived at the U.N. building with…
“Late again, Clark?” Jimmy teased from above the steps just outside the establishment.
I glance at the wall clock next to the U.N. logo and see the time: 6:04 A.M.
I groan, putting my hands over my face. “Sorry! I had a late night.”
“Clark!” Yells Lois, her luscious black hair curled to her shoulder. She wore a stately black blazer, long pencil skirt, and the blouse Ma Kent gave her on her birthday a year ago. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late!”
“Alright! Let's go, Jim!” I hurried along with my partner.
Jimmy sure was excited as he handled his camera. “Man, I sure wonder what Senator Carter has in store for the U.N. summit.”