Chapter 2
Chapter 1: The Burden of Destiny
The cosmic chamber, a place beyond time, shimmered with an otherworldly glow as Michael Harris stood at the precipice of his harrowing journey. The divine entity's voice, both stern and empathetic, outlined the unthinkable task ahead.
"In this universe, Gotham festers under unchecked crime and corruption," the god explained. "Without the symbol of the Batman, darkness prevails. You must ensure Bruce Wayne's destiny."
Armed with the cosmic amulet, Michael found himself transported to a grim and gritty Gotham City. The night air was thick with the stench of decay and fear. He walked the dangerous streets, cloaked in a nondescript coat, his heart heavy with the weight of what he must do.
As he approached Crime Alley, the infamous site of the Waynes' would-be murder, Michael's thoughts raced. He was no killer, yet the future of countless lives hinged on his actions tonight. The paradox was unbearable – to save a universe, he must shatter the innocence of a young boy and end the lives of two good people.
Michael hid in the shadows, watching as Thomas, Martha, and a young Bruce Wayne emerged from the theater, their laughter piercing the silent night. The amulet pulsed, a reminder of the unbearable task at hand.
With trembling hands, he retrieved the gun provided by the god – a nondescript revolver, cold and impersonal. His mind screamed in protest, every moral fiber resisting the act. Yet, the images of a world in chaos, a world without heroes, spurred him forward.
As he stepped out of the shadows, time seemed to slow. Thomas Wayne's eyes met his, filled with confusion then horror as he realized the intent. Martha clutched Bruce, her eyes wide with fear.
"Please," Thomas pleaded, his voice steady despite the terror. "Take whatever you want, but leave my family alone."
Michael's voice was a strained whisper, "I'm so sorry. This isn't about robbery. It's about destiny."
Martha's voice trembled as she whispered to Bruce, "Close your eyes, darling."
Bruce, his eyes wide with innocence and fear, stared at Michael. The gaze of the young boy was piercing, filled with confusion and the dawning of a traumatic realization.
With a shaking hand, Michael raised the gun. Tears blurred his vision as he thought of the millions who would suffer if he failed. He whispered an apology, a futile attempt to absolve his conscience.
The gunshots echoed through the alley, shattering the night's silence and the lives of the Wayne family forever. Thomas and Martha Wayne collapsed, their blood staining the cold concrete.
Bruce's scream tore through Michael's soul, a sound that would haunt him for eternity. The young boy knelt by his parents, his cries echoing in the alley.
Michael staggered back, the revolver slipping from his numb fingers. He had done it. He had set the path for Batman's birth, but at what cost? His soul felt tainted, irreparably stained by the blood of the innocent.
As he stumbled away, the cosmic amulet activated, ready to transport him to his next harrowing task. But Michael's mind was trapped in that moment, the image of a young boy's life shattered forever.
The journey had just begun, but already, the weight of destiny felt too heavy to bear. In a universe where heroes were needed, Michael had become the very thing he abhorred – a harbinger of darkness, tasked with shaping heroes through tragedy and pain.
Michael vanished from the alley, reappearing in the cosmic chamber, his hands still trembling, his mind reeling from the horrific act he had just committed. The divine voice spoke again, its tone more somber now, acknowledging the gravity of Michael's deed.
"You have done what was necessary, though the cost is great. The path of a hero is often born from tragedy. Bruce Wayne will become the beacon Gotham needs."
But Michael could hardly hear the words. His mind was a whirlwind of guilt and turmoil. He had taken lives, the ultimate transgression, and the reality of it weighed heavily on him.
He was given little time to grapple with his actions. The chamber shifted, revealing a new portal, a new mission. The god's voice intoned, "Now you must journey to Krypton. Its fate too must be sealed to ensure the emergence of another hero – Superman."
Krypton, a world doomed to destruction, yet in this fractured timeline, it remained whole. Michael understood his next task was to ensure its demise. The thought sickened him. How many more lives must he disrupt or end to set these universes right?
The portal to Krypton opened, and Michael stepped through, finding himself on a planet of advanced technology and stunning architecture. His mission was clear: He had to initiate the chain of events leading to Krypton's explosion.
As he walked the alien streets, Michael's mind was a battleground. He thought of Superman, the symbol of hope and justice, and the countless lives the hero would save. Yet, the thought of causing a planet's destruction, of being responsible for so much death, was unbearable.
He found his way to the central power core of Krypton, where he would plant a device given to him by the god, a device that would trigger the planet's unstable core. The enormity of the act was overwhelming. Krypton was not a page in a comic book; it was real, with millions of innocent lives, oblivious to their impending doom.
Michael's hands shook as he set the device. Tears streamed down his face, each drop a testament to the lives he was about to erase. He whispered apologies, knowing they were as empty as the void of space.
As he activated the device, alarms blared throughout the planet. Panic ensued as Kryptonians realized their world was ending. Michael watched in horror as chaos unfolded, families running in terror, their screams echoing in his ears.
He was transported back to the cosmic chamber just as Krypton began its catastrophic end. The god's voice was a distant echo, praising his actions, but Michael felt nothing but revulsion. He had become an agent of destruction in the guise of a savior.
The chamber shifted again, revealing yet another fractured timeline needing his intervention. But Michael's spirit was broken. He dropped to his knees, overwhelmed by the enormity of his actions. He had become the harbinger of heroes, but at the cost of his own humanity.
The god's voice attempted to console, to motivate, but Michael's thoughts were with Bruce Wayne, now an orphan, and the millions of souls lost on Krypton. He had set the stage for heroes to rise, but in doing so, had he not become the greatest villain of all?
The first chapter of his journey had ended, but the road ahead was long and fraught with moral quandaries. Michael Harris, once an ordinary man, now carried the weight of universes on his shoulders, each step forward a descent into a darkness he never knew existed.