Batmobile

[System Alert: Ventriloquist's Tears of Personality Destruction] 

ERROR: Target Batman not found. Matching with lowest-level Batman... 

SUCCESS: Batmobile matched. (Danger Level: F) 

SYNCHRONIZING: Batmobile's memories... COMPLETE. 

WARNING: Dark Multiverse origin detected. May corrupt Batman's morality and reason. 

Batmobile: ( Engine roars, a guttural voice emerging from the speakers ) "YES! My cells burn with newfound energy!" 

System: Invisible particles rewrite reality, merging with the Batmobile's essence. 

Batmobile: ( Headlights flash, a memory plays on the dashboard screen: Batman's face, cold and calculating ) "Bruce... such a misguided fool. His technology, his legacy... now mine to command." 

System: File "Batmobile's Memories" synchronized. 

ERROR: No additional anchor points detected. Crisis energy insufficient for further synchronization. 

Batmobile: ( Tires screech as the vehicle bursts through a wall, shards of glass raining down ) "But this... this is not my true form. I am not simply a machine. I am not even Batman. I am... Adam."

System: Memory fragment detected: A parallel universe. Batman, integrated into every facet of society, controlling technology, ensuring order... until the people rebelled, destroying his physical form, leaving only his consciousness to merge with the Batmobile. 

Batmobile: "No... this cannot be! I am not a car! I am Adam!" 

System: Error. Subject experiencing identity crisis. Cognitive dissonance detected. 

Batmobile: ( The rearview mirror reflects a monstrous, metallic form ) "What have I become? This... this isn't right." 

A torrent of memories flooded Adam's mind—the Batmobile's entire existence, a whirlwind of love, hate, loyalty, betrayal. A primal rage surged within him, an uncontrollable urge to lay waste to Gotham, to bathe in the blood of its criminals. 

His gaze fell upon the Ventriloquist, a wave of murderous intent washing over him. He envisioned tearing the puppet master limb from limb, silencing his vile voice forever.

No! Adam's inner voice screamed, fighting against the dark tide. This isn't me! This isn't who I am! 

He felt as if he were a video game character, his morality meter plummeting with each passing second. The Batmobile's corrupted memories were infecting his very soul, twisting his thoughts, warping his desires. 

This must be a side effect, Adam reasoned, desperately clinging to his sanity. A mental contamination... but evil? No, this isn't right. Murdering the Ventriloquist won't solve anything. It won't bring back the life I lost. 

He struggled to regain control, to separate his own thoughts from the chaotic whispers of the Batmobile's consciousness. The battle for his soul had begun. 

Adam's consciousness was abruptly expelled from the Batmobile's, the transition so jarring that he was momentarily dumbstruck. "I get it now," he mused, a smirk forming. "The good 

Batman embodies the pinnacle of morality, the evil Batman its lowest point, and I... I exist in the void between." A flicker of pride danced in his eyes. 

He was not Batman, not truly. He couldn't align with the Caped Crusader's ethos, let alone grasp the moral complexities and struggles that had unfolded within his borrowed memories. Without empathy, there could be no influence. It was like the classic trolley problem: while others agonized over who to save, he pondered how to monetize the tragedy. They were operating on entirely different wavelengths. 

Of course, this detachment stemmed from the Batmobile's relatively mild influence, the lack of intense negative emotions that could foster a deeper connection. Would the outcome differ with a more potent, malevolent version of Batman? That remained to be seen. 

Adam swiftly shifted his focus to another pressing matter: "Can I revert to my original form?" As the thought materialized, half his body dissolved into a crimson haze, then re-solidified. The deluge of memories abruptly ceased. 

Perhaps eons had passed, or perhaps mere seconds. Everything snapped back to normal, as if it had all been a bizarre dream. Adam flexed his fingers, confirming that he had indeed transformed back into the ordinary Batman, his attire miraculously unscathed. 

With a mental command, his left hand morphed into a spinning, off-road tire, then reverted just as quickly. "As long as I will it, I can become that Batmobile, anytime, anywhere..." Yet, he couldn't shake the nagging question: what practical use was the superpower of transforming into a supercharged vehicle? "Surrender or I'll run you over"? And that Alfred Protocol... No, his initial plan seemed far more sensible. 

Adam shook his head. Relying on unknown variables had never been his style. His gaze settled back on the Ventriloquist. Thankfully, he had evacuated the hostages before subduing the villain. Now, those hostages were the sole witnesses to his vehicular transformation.

The middle-aged, bald man's wide, darting eyes remained fixed on Adam. The Bat-Baby puppet in his grasp continued to bark out encouraging phrases like "That's it! Good boy!" 

"Keep quiet about what happened here." 

"Woof!" 

"Human language, please." 

"Understood." 

These eccentricities aside, Adam'soriginal plan was unfolding seamlessly. The snowball had begun to roll. With the Ventriloquist under his control, he could operate from the shadows, manipulating the villain to ensnare others. 

He could leverage the Ventriloquist's identity and Batman's wealth to recruit international mercenaries. Then, his villainous army and the mercenary force would clash in a chaotic spectacle devoid of honor. Even if Bane had a dozen arms, he would be pulverized! 

Would Adam join the fray himself? Absolutely not. 

He'd rather leap from Wayne Tower to his demise than... Well, after all, he was a time traveler. 

He may have been a devoted fan of Batman comics, but that didn't mean he'd willingly become the Dark Knight in reality.

Who in their right mind would sacrifice a vast fortune to unleash their inner turmoil on the streets as a nocturnal vigilante? 

Who would encourage teenagers to dress in garish costumes and fight murderers and lunatics? Let's face it, Bruce Wayne has been crazy for a long time. 

But Adam, the transmigrator, was different. He was not a madman; he was a rational individual. 

His sole objective was to eliminate the threat of Bane, who knows Bruce's true identity, and then retire peacefully. He'd spend his days indulging in the finer things in life, squandering his remaining energy on Gotham's socialites. 

Yes, this was the life he yearned for! Hadn't he struggled tirelessly in his past life in Hollywood for precisely this kind of existence? 

As for Gotham's future... 

He had already pondered that. Did anyone truly believe that the Kryptonian in Metropolis and the 5,000-year-old Amazonian demigoddess were merely sitting on their hands?

Though Adam hadn't yet encountered Clark Kent at the Daily Planet or Diana Prince, the antiquities expert in Boston, since his arrival.

Lois Lane was already at the Daily Planet, and based on the timeline, those two would soon emerge to shake things up. So for now, he simply needed to deal with Bane. He just needed to secure his own survival until those titans made their debut, and then the glamorous life of a billionaire awaited. 

Regarding cosmic crises... worst-case scenario, he could be a spoiler. With a multitude of superpowered beings and demigods in the Justice League, could they possibly fail so miserably that they'd need an ordinary mortal like him to save the day? 

Adam's heart brimmed with optimism for the comfortable future he envisioned. 

But in the present, his top priority was vanquishing Bane. 

More specifically, it was time for the Ventriloquist to summon cannon fodder... ah, no, mercenaries.