Chapter 6: Killer Croc

10+ Chapters ahead on Patréon.com/Oldherd.

Shortest Chapter ever- sorry, the rest are longer.

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"This is a bad idea—no, it's a 'terrible' idea," Ralph grumbled as we stepped off the train into Gotham City. The night was in full swing, and the atmosphere felt thick with danger, like the city itself was watching us. It was Gotham, after all—home to every horror story I'd ever heard, the kind of place where the shadows might just swallow you whole.

"You sure about that?" I smirked. "I mean, we're here to enlist the help of the world's greatest detective. That title isn't just for show, you know."

Ralph wasn't convinced. "It's not the asking Batman for help that bothers me—it's *being* in Gotham City. This is where the Joker lives!"

I clapped him on the shoulder. "Relax, Ralph. Joker's back in Arkham. Batman made sure of it."

Ralph sighed, rubbing his temples. "I know I'm going to regret this... but how exactly are we supposed to find him?"

I grinned. "Easy. We start at the Gotham City Police Department."

Since we were in Gotham, we figured it was safer to take the bus. Walking three blocks without tripping over some criminal scum was just asking for trouble. The bus pulled up, creaking to a stop.

"Where to?" the driver asked, looking half-asleep.

"GCPD," Ralph replied, handing him the fare.

As we settled into our seats, I noticed people staring at us—probably at Ralph, whose detective badge from Central City practically screamed, *outsider*.

The ride was quiet, but the scenery spoke volumes. Gotham's streets were as grim as I had imagined, criminals lurking in every shadow, waiting to strike. It was worse than I'd expected. How had Batman let things get this bad? He wasn't dead—that much I knew. But what had happened? Had he been injured, or had something happened to Alfred? Maybe he'd lost faith in Gotham itself.

Ralph let out a low whistle. "Barry, I knew Gotham was bad, but this... this is something else. I don't even have the words."

"Even with Batman on their side, crime is out of control here," I muttered. Anger bubbled in my chest. The police had clearly given up on trying to help. Corruption was everywhere. Now I understood why Batman never smiled, why his view of the world was so bleak. This city would drain the light out of anyone.

"What's your opinion of Batman?" I asked, curious about Ralph's thoughts.

"I think he's a hero," Ralph said firmly. "He might be breaking the law, but he's giving Gotham something it hasn't had in a long time—hope."

I nodded, feeling a swell of respect for the Dark Knight. He was Gotham's only line of defense, even if the city was still drowning in crime.

Part of me wished I had my powers already. I could clean up these streets in a heartbeat. But I couldn't jump the gun yet. The biometric enhancer I'd built wasn't ready to be activated. It had to be timed perfectly with the particle accelerator explosion.

In the meantime, I wasn't completely defenseless. I'd brought along a stun gun. Yeah, I could've gone for the real deal, but I was too much of a stickler for the no-kill rule. Batman didn't kill, and neither would I.

Suddenly, a deafening bang interrupted my thoughts. Ralph and I turned just in time to see what was causing it—*Killer Croc*, mid-battle with Batman.

My stomach dropped. Killer Croc was the stuff of nightmares. The Arkham Asylum game had practically traumatized me—every growl, every lurking threat around each corner had me on edge. And now he was right in front of us, live and terrifying.

Before I could react, Croc picked up a car like it weighed nothing and hurled it straight at our bus.

"Barry!" Ralph yelled, trying to snap me out of my shock. But it was too late. The car was already in the air, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.