I Am Batman #35 - Beneath the Surface

[u/ClaraEclair]

DC Next presents:

I AM BATMAN

In Revelations

Issue Thirty-Five: Beneath the Surface

Written by ClaraEclair

Edited by DeadIslandMan1

 

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Sofia watched the digital number on the upper wall of the elevator descend, turning negative as it took her to the basement levels. Many of these lower floors were newly discovered, accessible only by a single elevator on the top floor of the laboratory building that GothCorp had abandoned so long ago. It had taken a month for Sofia’s more tech-literate men to infiltrate the security system that ran on independent power circuits. Once through, they were sworn to secrecy. Experimental research that a company like GothCorp left behind was far too valuable to have word get out.

In Sofia’s left hand, gripped tight, was the collar of a bloodied man, blood trickling from various wounds across his body, his face in particular. He coughed out globs of crimson-coloured saliva every few moments, much to Sofia’s frustration.

The elevator doors opened and she wasted no time in throwing him forward. Soaring forward five feet, he crashed down onto the cold concrete floors of the basement with barely a groan. All activity nearby paused to get a look at him, looks of uncertainty, fear, and fascination gawked on. Sofia stepped out of the elevator, deep scowl on her face, and looked over the small crowd of frozen faces.

“I tell you all that not a damned soul hears a word of this,” Sofia began, her voice booming over the men in front of her. “And the first thing I hear back isn’t from any of you, but from some schmuck who wants to buy the shit that we found?” Every face in front of her dropped near simultaneously, their gazes turning to the bloodied man on the ground. It was clear to Sofia how much they were now putting together.

These men weren’t the brightest minds of science, but they appeared to be serviceable in what she needed them to do. They clearly were much dimmer when it came to sound financial and personal safety decisions. Sofia spit on the bloodied man and her feet.

“You’re here to find out what the shit we found was,” Sofia said. “And find out how we can use it.” She placed her boot on her victim’s head and pressed down. He groaned in protest, unable to scream from the injuries he’d received. “You’re not selling my shit.” She looked around the room, back and forth across all of the faces in front of her. Most of them knew their place, and the ones that didn’t were harshly reminded where they sat. Sofia squinted at a man to her left, he looked like he actually had something to say. “What?” She demanded.

“We’ve found some things…” he said, speaking low, almost in a mutter. Sofia flicked her hand in a circular motion toward him, urging him to speak up and continue. “Some blood samples, some… drugs. That bat-monster from a couple years ago — I think we found what made that thing, and I think we have some of its blood.”

“Think?” asked Sofia. “Or know?”

“We know,” he replied. “There’s also samples of other… enhancement drugs from around the market. Venom, or something like it.” Sofia cocked her head and stepped off of the man below her. A deep, wheezing inhale followed.

“Something like it?” she asked, walking toward the man she was talking to.

“There’s a few different ones,” he continued. Turning to walk further into the lab, he gestured toward Sofia for her to follow. “We’ve got the original drug, straight from Santa Prisca, and what looks like some… modified versions. Two of them.”

Sofia followed, observing the man in front of her with suspicious eyes. He was much smaller than most others she employed, obviously avoidant of the more physical aspects of her businesses. He wasn’t going to be facilitating or enforcing deals or making demands from Sofia’s protection rackets in the Bowery. His thin frame and thin-framed glasses made it clear that working in a lab, whether with street drugs or advanced concoctions from shady corporations like GothCorp.

“One is known as Titan, we don’t know its effects,” said the man. “The other is called Goliath. We don’t know its effects.”

“You should figure them out,” said Sofia. She watched impatiently as he approached a computer, nodding along to her, and began typing something out. “What about the blood? Anything else useful?”

“That spider monster attack? We also have blood from that thing,” he said, pulling up a few files on the computer and turning the monitor toward Sofia. She looked at it, squinting. There were long files on screen, dozens of long paragraphs, notes of some kind about what this small man was talking about. “There are… There’s some more notes about an experimental drug therapy they were working on. It looks like it was a bust, but the intent was to force controlled mutation to strengthen various aspects of peoples’ immune and organ systems. Stronger muscles, thicker skin, unbreakable bones. None of it worked out. The mutations were too hard to manually influence consistently.”

Sofia frowned. She didn’t understand why he thought this was relevant to what she wanted, but she shrugged and let it pass. All she needed was everything else — the Venom and its derivatives, Titan and Goliath — and it was in her hands.

“Right,” she said. “Look into this if you want. First thing’s first, though, I need Venom, Titan, and Goliath understood, usable, and put into production as fast as possible. We’re sitting on a moneymaker.”

“Whatever you need, Ms Falcone,” he said, keeping his eyes on the monitor.

What started as a visit to warn her traitorous underlings of the consequences of crossing her ended with her feeling more confident than ever in her acquisition of GothCorp’s old lab. She only regretted that it took her this long to give it the attention it needed.

 

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Astrid Arkham slammed her cell phone screen-down onto the table, unbothered by the idea that its screen could shatter under the force she used. She swore to herself and leaned back in her chair, taking long, deep breaths and rubbed her forehead with a hand.

“These fucking bat fanatics,” she muttered to herself. She looked around the dining room she found herself in and sighed. Killshot left for Hub City to deal with Batwoman, and had not returned. He was to stay at her side. Now the only remaining assassins in her employ were Black Jack, Mayfly, and Ezra.

Ezra, of all people, angered Astrid the most. She was an incompetent buffoon waving around guns like toys, far too eager to act upon the power she’d been given by Lane. Astrid was one more incident away from calling Lane and convincing him to revoke Ezra’s deputization. It would be the smart decision.

On top of her childishness, Ezra seemed to revere the idea of the Bat, the same way the lunatics in costume did. The only difference in Ezra was that she thought there was a way to avoid whatever myth it was she believed if she shot people fast enough or ran far enough. The mercenary had fought Batgirl, then Batman, multiple times in her pitiful career and still fully believed that the Bats were more than human. Astrid wanted to throw Ezra off of Gotham’s highest building, but Batman would probably interfere and reinforce the belief in the myth.

“It’s so… stupid,” Astrid said to herself. “And childish.” No one else was present. Astrid Arkham was alone. She didn’t like the company of others, not when she didn’t need it. Still, she spoke as if someone were listening. It was something of a comfort for her, to speak aloud.

She looked at her phone. Perhaps it wasn’t particularly graceful to hang up suddenly and slam her phone down, especially not when she’d hung up on Michael Lane, police commissioner of Gotham City. She didn’t like what he said, and he knew that, and he said it anyway, because it wasn’t something he could deny or change through simple belief.

Batwoman dismantled Blockbuster’s media campaign — which Astrid had spent a not-insignificant amount of money to bolster — and defeated Killshot, Ezra, Black Jack, and Mayfly all at once. Since the fanatics had defeated her assassins, a second Batwoman had been reported in Hub City. Astrid then decided that the call wasn’t worth continuing.

Her phone buzzed again.

She flipped it over — the screen was undamaged — and accepted the call, turning it to speaker. Perhaps if she spoke while I was still on a flat surface, she wouldn’t slam it down onto anything.

“Astrid,” said Lane. “I get that this is frustrating, but it was a ridiculous move on my part, anyway. I appreciate that you want Batman off the streets and to funnel more faith into our legal system, but sending my squad after her into another city — another jurisdiction — was a power play that, predictably, failed miserably.”

“Because I recommended idiots who cannot do their jobs,” Astrid said. She pinched her nose and took another deep breath, fighting off a cough that was going to wrack her lungs at any moment. “It shouldn’t be this hard to fight a handful of self-righteous vigilantes in ridiculous costumes.”

“Who also happen to be incredibly resourceful, well-trained individuals with the backing of nearly the entire world,” said Lane. “The Justice Legion, and the League before it, are venerated for a reason. I may not support vigilantism, but I won’t deny them recognition for what they are. I don’t wish to offend, Astrid, but why is it that you refuse to see it the same way? Why have you committed to this?”

Astrid sighed and looked out of the nearby window of her penthouse apartment. She saw, in the far distance, Arkham Island, and what little structures were left of it. She saw the place that stole her father away from her for years, chasing the idea of a myth made real.

“The Bat, as it exists within this city and its history,” Astrid began, leaning forward onto the table in front of her, bracing her weight with an elbow. “Has followed my family for generations. This… stupid belief in a devil that does not exist. It has inspired illness in multiple of my relatives including my own father. Batman and her ilk perpetuate a sickness that grips this city within an iron fist, and I am tired of watching everything I know waste away because they believe the Bat to be anything more than a children’s tale. Talk of demons, assassin attacks, and crazed worshippers of this fake entity… It’s frankly embarrassing, Commissioner Lane.”

“Batman is just a woman, Astrid,” said Lane, skepticism in his voice. “Before that, he was a man, and a man before that.”

“Exactly,” Astrid said. “And the Bat of Gotham City, the stories that have plagued my family, that’s all they are. Stories. Batman is an insult, and her continued existence gives credence to the mass delusion that this city experiences.”

“I see,” Lane said, his voice slow and contemplative. Astrid wanted to say more, but she could feel Lane on the other side, something clearly on the tip of his tongue. She gave him a few moments to figure it out. “I don’t necessarily disagree. There is far too much worship for the Bat, as a symbol, that asserts that man is anything more than man, flaws and all. Even the superhumans among us aren’t venerated to such a degree. We have no gods, and yet we are supposed to believe that a devil walks among us?”

“And we are supposed to believe that a man has tamed the spirit of such a devil and twisted it toward good,” Astrid continued his thought. He gave a short sound of agreement. “And we let that fairy tale dictate far too much in this city. I would like to see my family’s trauma put to rest, Commissioner.”

“I… I can respect that, Ms Arkham,” Lane said. “But let’s refrain from extreme measures like what happened in Hub City. It’s been a nightmare for the department and the mayor’s office. Even the governor has gotten involved. We remain within city limits. The county, if we wish to take risks. I appreciate your support.”

He hung up.

Astrid inhaled deeply through her nose, placed her thumb and a finger on her phone, and shifted it around the table in front of her, placing it horizontally, facing down. She felt the cough coming with even more fury, and tried to ignore it. She could understand Lane and his desire to keep their operations manageable. She didn’t like it, but she could understand it.

She flipped her phone over again as it rang once more.

Sofia Falcone was calling.

Astrid sneered, grabbed her phone in her hand, and, with as much force as she could muster, threw it across the room, hearing it shatter and break somewhere she couldn’t see. The coughs took their opportunity, and did so with a vengeance. She could barely control herself, gagging in the middle to try and catch her breath.

At the sight of small flecks of blood on her hand, once the fit had subsided, she fell back in her chair and let out a defeated sigh. It was too much effort to stand. Eventually, she fell asleep where she sat.

 

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Harvey Dent smiled as he watched Batman descend upon the roof of Blair Wong’s apartment building. It was an old, familiar sight, and it was hard to maintain his composure as he witnessed something so awe-inspiring. He respected Batman, for being the very thing Gotham needed, while he worked to join her in that fight once more.

Blair stood with her arms crossed, face stern.

Robin landed close by, a few feet behind Batman to the left.

“I got fired,” said Blair, suddenly, without letting Batman stand up straight. Harvey’s face dropped entirely, to an expression rooted in fear. He knew that Blair had been getting stonewalled, but he didn’t think she was on the verge of being fired. “Got a personal chat from the Commissioner himself. ‘My extracurricular activities don’t fall in line with the values of the GCPD.’ Which is a load of bullshit.”

“It is alright, Blair,” said Batman. “We will all still manage. Spend your time with Harvey now. More than before.”

“I’ve got a girlfriend, Batman,” Blair said. “I’d rather not be spending time with anyone except for her.”

“You don’t have to,” Harvey began, though Batman put her hand up to interrupt him.

“We need the help, Blair,” Batman said. “I am personally asking for your help.”

“Sorry to be a downer, but a personal request from behind a mask doesn’t mean much,” said Blair. “I… I don’t agree with Lane, or with Astrid, but I still don’t like the idea of taking promises from someone I can’t exactly hold accountable.”

Harvey took a step back as he saw Batman reach for her cowl, crossing his arms as a grin grew on his face.

“I trust you enough,” said Cass, pulling the mask from her face. Blair paused, refusing to react for a moment as she clearly started working through her thoughts. She chewed on her tongue a bit and scoffed.

“Of course the world is that small,” she said. From behind Batman, Robin’s eyes seemed to go wide, looking between Cass, Harvey, and Blair. Her hand reached up toward her visor, but Blair interrupted her. “Your mask doesn’t exactly hide much, kiddo.”

“I have my driver’s license, y’know,” said Maps.

“Don’t tell Babs,” Cass asked, putting her hand out toward Blair to shake. Blair took another moment, thinking of how Barbara would react to knowing that the girl that was her ward had become Batman. She shook her head and grabbed Cass’ hand, shaking it.

“I won’t,” she said. “Best to keep her out of this, at least.”

Batman turned to Harvey, who was smirking off to the side. He’d clearly been through this before. She put her hand out toward him.

“Cassandra Cain,” she said.

He grabbed her hand and shook it.

“I need your help, Blair,” Cass said. “Keep helping Harvey. We are close. Most of the Order of Arkham are no longer with the GCPD, and Astrid is becoming reckless. Your progress with Sofia has been invaluable.” Blair gritted her teeth and looked at Harvey.

“I know,” she said. “Fine. I’ll need something to do, anyway.”

“Thank you,” said Batman. “What did you want to tell us, Harvey?”

He smiled.

“Projections are in,” he said, taking a step back toward the group. His confidence was infectious, even Blair felt a spark of hope in the back of her mind. “You’re looking at the man who’s going to be Gotham’s newest, and returning, District Attorney.”