101. Ten

It was cold in Gotham,

In all its dark and gloom, tonight it was yet another troubling day. The city was different. The usual sound of sirens, panic, gunshots, all the usual grimm were... non existence. The city's usual grim appearance had change since few months back.

The streets cleaner—not just of trash but also of criminals.

Gotham's infamous grime was beginning to lift, like the early morning fog dissipating with the sunrise. Which too was rare in Gotham's smoggy city.

Life in Gotham, of all places, was getting better.

Even the smog above the city was starting to thin out. The murky water, once tainted with Joker's venom and Scarecrow's toxin, has been filtered clean. The transformation so amazing that even the sewer rat had shinier glean on their fur.

Gotham had changed in ways no one thought possible.

"Commissioner Gordan," A voice interrupted.

Gordan turned from the window, steam rising from the hot coffee in his hand. A figure stood at the door with a strained smile, a worry clear in her eyes.

"What is it, Deputy McAllister?" Gordan asked, his eyes furrowing. Year of soaking in Gotham's darkness had made him alert, always alert, even when the night seemed eerily quiet.

"It's nothing, sir," The Deputy said with a sigh. "It's just... Gotham. It has been too calm lately."

Gordan's furrow tightened, his eyes returning to the image out the window. The night was peaceful. He took a sip from his cup, trying to swallow the rising knot in his stomach. Yes, Gotham has been calm. That's never a good sign.

A storm always brew underneath all it's silence.

He gulped another sip, his gaze reflecting his image on the window. He was drinking his hot coffee while staying at the office, not in some crime scene or trying to solve some case. He was clam and relaxed.

How long has it been since he was this relaxed? Five years? Ten years? No, he did not even remember last time.

"I'm scared, sir," McAllister admitted, her hand clenched to her side. "I'm scared that this peace is just an illusion, and a storm is about to hit us fast and unexpected. Yet at times, I can't help but be hopeful. Hopeful that maybe, just maybe, Gotham could have more good days."

"I know," Gordan responded, taking another sip from his coffee. "But this time its different, we got help. A Sentinel of Help."

His gaze looked further than his image.

Across the street, standing like a statue at the junction, was one of the City's new protectors—A Sentinel.

Since they were deployed by their King, one that they are still digesting, to Gotham. The Sentinels paired with human officers were more than efficient. Crime-solving had become a breeze, almost absurdly so. They could identified prints, blood sample, and other evidence, hidden and unknown, with a single glance.

Cutting the time of Detective deduction to matter of minute. Their fast web allowed them to catch criminals faster than Batman, with perfect proof that not one could escape their crime.

It has been weeks since anyone heard a gunshot.

"Gotham has become a bit brighter,"

The Commissioner showed a rare slight smile, feeling hopeful.

Maybe it will be better tomorrow,

***

Meanwhile, on the other side of Gotham, things were less... clean.

"You look too young to be here, Kid," A woman remarked, a strange mix of curiosity and caution.

Her eyes sizing up the young man sitting in one of the booths of The Seedy Strip Club. On her hand was a tray filled with drinks of different shapes. Her dress was less than at an acceptable level. She stood half naked with her bare chest visible for all to see, the glowing neon bands around her neck hiding nothing. Her lower half was cover by very poor description for cloths.

The club was dimly lit, neon party lights blinking like a broken Christmas tree. The whole club reeked with the smell of booze, sweat and sex. Nauseating. Women of different age with very poor dress quality dance on poles while Men threw money at them, drunk to all hell not caring about the world around them.

The young man adjusted his round black glazes, barely hiding his golden eyes that glowed in the darkness. He wore a short black jacket above what looked like a armored gear, painted gold lines, paths that were more of armor than—hardly a party attire.

A strange watch with golden Hour Glass adorn his left hand.

"I'm here on a Job," He said coolly.

"Job, huh? Can I ask what kind of job?" The woman leaned forward, sliding a drink towards him while showing her bare chest. A sly grin played at her face a she observed for his reaction.

The young man pushed the drink aside, "Just checking the few places that haven't been cleared yet."

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The woman leaned in, now sitting beside him. "Vigilante?"

"Maybe," He replied playful, his gaze focused on one of the dancers—too young to be in a place like this, wearing little more than scraps of clothing.

"Like her?" The woman teased. "You can have a taste if you pay the right price."

"She looks to young to be here," His word cut.

"Yeah, she is," The woman's voice took a more somber tone. "Poor girl got caught up with wrong people. Now she got nowhere to go, just like the rest of us."

He turned to her, "You could ask for help, from the Police or the Shelter,"

"Police?" The woman snorted, her expression better. "They got more urgent thing to do, dangerous criminals to catch for them to worry about us."

"What about the King's shelters?" He continued. "They provide help for anyone who asks."

The woman laughed bitterly . "It's already overrun with homeless. And how long do you think people will care? One month max, after that they don't and we are back to street. People don't have hope left, kid. This is our life, there's no escaping it."

"You can, You always can," He said, surety lacing his words. "If I extend my hand, to you and other girls here, will you take it?"

The woman stared at him, searching for falsehood to find non.

She decided to honor him, even if she were to die for her word, at least the police would intervene then. "Maybe. If the deal is good. What's your name, anyway, kid?"

"Ten," He replied cheerfully.

"Ten?" She raise and eyebrow. "Because you're the tenth child of something?"

"Nah," He smirked. "Because I'm ten out of ten."

The woman chuckled despite herself.. "Alright, Ten. What's your deal?"

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

The woman was stunned, "Did you just quote Bible in a strip club?"

"Not good?" He asked, looking doubtful.

"It was just out of place and totally unexpected," The woman gave a chuckle. "But that won't be all enough, Kid. How are you going to take care of the guys who run this place and those who support from the shadows. You can protect us from them, how can you stop them from getting some other girls?"

"I know a guy," Ten spoke with a mischievous smile. "So you accept?"

The woman stood up and sighed. "You're a good kid, but you don't know how the bad world works."

She said her words and walked away, leaving him a bitter taste in his mouth. Ten watched her retreating figure. He could only sigh. The strip club was technically a business, so the Sentinels couldn't interfere. They were programmed to fight crime, not shut down entertainment venus.

This strip club like many other work on the fine gray line in the system. This problem was no super-villain for him to punch away. This was Gotham's desperation and Survival, where women like the dancer didn't have any other choice.

His shelters could provide help and support, but they weren’t equipped to fight a more insidious enemy: poverty, exploitation, hopelessness. As she said, its only a matter of time. How long can the shelter just support people before it collapses economy, runs out of occupations, and money.

Yet what could he do? If he shut down all darkness, it would brew withing and burst. He could squash them all, but what then? what's next? For how long? I need to provide them an alternative. Not only for now, but for the future.

These times, he wished he was Superman. He could just inspire and give hope.

But things are not that simple.

"Have you found your solution, Ten?" A seductive voice teased from the shadow.

Ten didn't turn, he knew the cat that purred. The new boss of the underworld, Catwoman.

"No," Ten answered. "Not a perfect solution, but I can try extending a hand."

Ten stood up from the booth, "After I beat up all the idiots."

"ALL OF YOU, LISTEN UP!"

He roared, his voice like thunder above the blaring music. silencing the entire club. Heads turned in his direction.

"This place if closed for the night!" He declared, his hand reaching to his back. "Anyone got a problem with that, Speak up or stay silent."

He could already see the bouncers rushing at him. The drunkards still not fully grasping the depth of the situation. The woman who talked with him before looking worriedly at him. He just need just make enough ruckus to send these lot running.

His hands moved swiftly, reaching for the pistols. The bouncers froze when they say him draw his gun. Ten spun the barrel before he lifted the gun up and fired.

*BOOOOOM*

The sound thunder, deafening those close to him and shocking those that were away. But it was enough of a sign that the party was over. He didn't need take another shot as people rushed out the club, staggering and stumbling.

The bouncers stood like pillar among the panicked crowds, exchanging gaze as they waited.

Soon the club fully emptied, leaving only the bouncers and Ten alone. They now had no one to worry about.

Ten spun the gun and sheathed, gesturing for them to come with his bare hand. "What are you waiting for? An announcement and certificate?"

His joke was not well received. The bouncers charged at him like bulls, each taking out their weapons. Brass knuckles, knifes, batons, nunchuck, and some even lifted the chairs.

"Man, you guys do fight unfair,"

He lifted his hand, his fingers grazing his watch. He selected the alien and slapped the Omnitrix core, his form changing in an instant.

His height shrunk to the height of a child, his skin turned white with a black suit that covered to his neck. His hands now had four long sharp fingers. His eyes fully green, his face half covered in black. Three black fins extended from his face, two to the side and one to the top. Two whiskers adorned his cheeks.

He looked like an over grown mole-rat that grew sentience.

"Ditto," He declared as he jumped to the sides, dividing as he did so.

The Bouncers though shocked, had seen crazy things living in Gotham. Such thing didn't flinch them anymore. The bouncers moved chairs and table to chase the rat. But each time they got close, he would just divide and run away.

Soon each one of them was chasing one each.

"Hey!" A high pitch voice shouted.

A ditto standing high in a stacked chair, stood with his arms folded. Trying to look menacing as he could.

"Would you like these clones to use susano or not?"