The bar was in absolute chaos. Ditto clones were climbing walls, swinging from ceiling fans, and tossing half-eaten snacks at both the bouncers and the Gotham police. Amidst the cartoonish madness, Commissioner Gordon stood helpless, wondering why he ever thought tonight would be peaceful.

Suddenly, a cold wind waft through the open door. A shadow loomed from the corner, growing larger and darker until the unmistakable figure of Batman stepped into the dim light, his cape billowing dramatically. The chaos slowed for just a second as all eyes—human, Ditto, and otherwise—turned to the Dark Knight.

Ditto, who had been wearing a makeshift crown, immediately dropped his royal posture and saluted. "Batsy's here, everyone! Playtime's over!"

"Party pooper!!!" Disco Ditto shouted, honking a horn he found somewhere.

"I am Gotham's Shadow," one of the Dittos declared, attempting to mimic Batman.

"I am the Night." Another joined in

"I am Vengeance."

"I am Batman!"

The Ditto clones chorused, their voices echoing in unison.

"Want a drink, Batman?" the bartender Ditto asked casually as he wiped a glass. "It's on the house."

But Batman was not amused. "Stop this chaos."

"Thank God you're here." Gordon sighed in relief.

"It's nothing to worry about, Gordon," Batman glared at the sea of Ditto clones. "We need to talk. Now."

The Ditto clones groaned, disappointed by the sudden halt to their fun. One of them, perched atop a defeated bouncer, muttered, "Aww, c'mon, we were just getting started."

"Okay, well, I was here to talk to you both anyway," the original Ditto—Ten—remarked nonchalantly. He clapped his hands. "Time out, boys!"

At his command, all the Dittos groaned but obediently began to fuse back together. The Omnitrix on Ditto's head beeped, and in a bright flash, all the clones disappeared, leaving only Ten standing there, now in his regular form. He crossed his arms casually and leaned against the bar.

Batman and Gordon watched as the chaotic scene simmered down. "We've got a lot to discuss," Ten pointed at the stools in front of him.

Batman remained standing, his eyes locked onto Ten.

"Well, if you want to stand, fine," Ten shrugged. "But let me introduce myself properly. I'm Ten. I'm your king's right-hand man, and I was sent here to check on Gotham's conditions before… well, I forgot what that was."

Batman's eyes narrowed slightly but remained silent.

"Look, Bat," Ten started, adjusting his round glasses. "I was just doing a little… community check-up."

"By wrecking a bar and brawling with half its patrons?" Gordan asked, folding his arms.

Ten shrugged again, unphased by Batman's growing tension from the side. "Eh, a bit of fun on the side. Besides, places like this—" He gestured to the dingy bar. "They're not exactly pillars of the community. I thought I could nudge things in the right direction."

Batman's jaw tightened. "You've crossed the line."

"Maybe," Ten admitted, pushing off the bar to stand up straight. "But I helped some people tonight. Cleaned up a mess without calling in the big guys."

"You're should be helping then," Batman replied, stepping closer, his shadow swallowing Ten. "Not causing more problems."

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Ten sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright, alright, point taken. But I wasn't causing more problems. More like… multitasking."

He pulled a note from his jacket and flipped it open. "I made a checklist. Just confirm a few things." He looked over at Gordon. "How's the crime situation, Commissioner?"

Gordon, now calmer but still unsure of Ten, adjusted his glasses. "Crime has dropped significantly. We're down to minor cases most nights, and we've closed a lot of old ones. With the bigger crime families neutralized, Gotham has been… peaceful."

"Good, good," Ten noted, scribbling in his book. "But don't slack off just because the Sentinels are doing a lot of the work."

Batman's eyes narrowed further, his gaze fixed on Ten. "Sentinels aren't here to replace the police."

Ten continued scribbling. "Next up—pollution. Both air and water quality have improved by 95%. Expect some weather changes soon. Corruption—" He looked up at Gordon again. "How're the new hires doing since, you know, most of the old force was arrested for corruption?"

"They're… doing well," Gordon admitted. "The fresh recruits are enthusiastic, and the Sentinels have taken the pressure off us. The new force seems committed to keeping the law."

"Good to hear." Ten flipped to another page. "Now, about those unclean streets. I've seen back alleys still filled with garbage. Get that sorted out before the end of the week. Wayne Enterprises will provide new equipment."

Ten didn't even glance at Batman when he mentioned Wayne.

"And the issue of homelessness and poverty. My shelters have helped a lot, but we can't solve everything with just shelters. We need more occupations and hope. There are still places, like this strip club, exploiting people when they're at their lowest." He turned to Batman, a serious edge in his voice. "Batman, I need you to handle that. I'll give you clearance. I want Gotham cleaned up."

Batman's expression hardened. "Gotham has always been more complicated than a simple clean-up. But I will sort this out with Gordan."

"I know," Ten agreed. "But it's about time the police stop relying on vigilantes. Gotham's changing, and I don't want an incompetent force—resignations if you can't even do your job, period. Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow." Isaiah 1:17

Ten's tone grew more serious as he continued. "And as for the newly emerging criminals, there's a power vacuum in Gotham's underworld left by the big bads, but I want any small-timers or wannabes shut down before they can take root. We don't need more joker nor Two-face"

Gordon nodded slowly. "We've been keeping an eye out for anyone trying to fill that gap."

"Good," Ten said, closing his notebook with a snap. "Because I want Gotham clean and safe by next Monday."

"Why the deadline?" Batman asked, his voice cold and precise.

"Nion is reopening Gotham—a fresh start for this city," Ten said, standing up from his seat. "That's all. See you later."

As Ten turned to leave, Batman took a step forward. "You're not leaving. You're under arrest for property damage and causing chaos in a public venue."

Ten looked genuinely surprised. "What?"

"Commissioner, cuff him," Batman ordered in his neutral, unshakable tone.

Gordon hesitated, looking between Batman and Ten, before slowly reaching for the cuffs on his belt.

"You will not!" Ten snapped. "I'm an official envoy of your king on official duty! I have the authority to punish criminals."

"But this is Earth," Batman replied firmly.

Ten glared at him. "Gordon, if you put those cuffs on me, you can forget about ever working as a cop again."

Gordon wavered for a moment, but Batman didn't blink. "Gordon doesn't care about that. He'll arrest you for breaking the law. You can call a lawyer."

Ten took a step back as Gordon approached, his eyes scanning Batman. Then, noticing a faint twitch at the corner of Batman's mouth, realization dawned. "Wait a minute… you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Batman's lip twitched ever so slightly, betraying a hint of satisfaction.

Gordon raised an eyebrow. "Batman?"

"I hate you," Ten muttered, lightly punching Batman's chest. "But you're not arresting me."

In a flash, Ten blitzed past them, heading for the door. The police standing guard outside parted immediately, not wanting to get involved.

Gordon and Batman followed him out just in time to see a helmet form around Ten's head. He climbed onto a sleek, advanced-looking bike, the design familiar to Batman—his own Bat-Bike, but modified with golden circuitry and a circular headlight, its design more slick and alien.

"Stay tight, Gotham," Ten called out as he revved the engine.

Though it was an energy-based bike, it roared with power, the wheels glowing golden before it took off with blinding speed, leaving Batman and Gordon watching as he vanished into the night.

"Ship, set course for Central City!" Ten ordered the bike.

The bike hummed in response, and within moments, Ten was out of Gotham, breaking every speed limit on the way.

His bike—named S.H.I.P.—was a hybrid of a Martian Bio-Ship and a Mechmorph, something Zion had obtained from King J'emm. It took very little convincing. Bio-ships were rare, and with the Omnitrix, Zion had turned it into the perfect hybrid. Now, it was a hyper-evolving machine, adapting to every challenge.

As he sped away, Ten grinned under his helmet. "Finally, something with a little style."

*****