The Sewers

Helena led Jay through a series of convoluted turns, ending at a forgotten sewer entrance hidden in a desolate corner. The iron manhole cover was so rusted and scratched that its original markings were nearly indiscernible—perhaps it was over a century old.

Descending the corroded ladder, Jay inquired, "How did you find such an ancient entryway?"

"I meticulously examined every blueprint of the Federal Government Building I could gather, including its underlying sewer system," Helena explained, leaping the last few rungs of the ladder. "This is the only approach I deduced. The Apokoliptian invasion devastated half of New York; much was rebuilt, but this pipeline existed long before and leads directly to the building's forbidden zone. What we'll encounter there is a mystery, but this is our only path."

"Comforting," Jay quipped as he jumped down, "Perhaps we'll be greeted by an army from Warworld, ready to whisk us to an extraterrestrial gladiatorial arena."

Helena paused, casting him a serious glance. "That's a possibility."

"I was joking."

Their conversation ceased as they pressed forward, Helena's flashlight cutting through the thick darkness ahead. The ancient sewer's round walls were entwined with dark plants; the narrow path underfoot was mossy. The flashlight occasionally revealed scurrying creatures, which darted into the shadows at the sight of the light.

Helena remained silent, her quietude amplifying the eerie atmosphere. Her presence was reassuring, yet in these shadows, her silent vigil only heightened the sense of dread.

Jay mused that Batman was much the same—perhaps it was a trait she learned from her father: minimizing communication during a mission. He couldn't help wondering, as in the comic book stories, if every Superman was destined to have a Batman as a perfect partner, could Huntress be his?

His gaze lingered on Helena. Her profile, even in the dim light, was striking—her maturity and confidence only enhanced by the darkness. She might have no superpowers, but her inherited detective skills and ability to solve problems made her a reliable partner.

"You seem distracted," she remarked abruptly, catching Jay off guard.

"Ah, no, it's just… your silence. It's unnerving."

She kept walking, head forward, "Reducing unnecessary talk helps us focus. It's beneficial for the mission."

"Sounds like something Batman would teach," Jay commented. "Speaking of him, shouldn't we at least inform him?"

Helena's stride faltered momentarily before she shot Jay a meaningful glare.

"Unless you're scared, you can go to him," she said coolly. "I can proceed alone from here."

"Okay, this isn't my business, but maybe you should try to mend things with him," Jay suggested. "You said you don't blame him for your mother's death, right? He's still your father, and it can't go on like this."

Helena walked on in silence. Jay regretted his words; it was her family matter, after all, and perhaps he wasn't that close to her to intrude.

Surprisingly, she wasn't angry. After a long silence, she spoke, "Did I ever tell you about finding my mother after she was...?"

"No."

"When I found her among the rubble, 40% of her body burned, I barely recognized her beyond her torn uniform. But she clung to life long enough to touch my face with her bloodied hand, to tell me she loved me, not to blame my father, that she understood his choices and that was why she loved him."

There was a pause, her voice heavy, "She died in my lap, and I couldn't do anything."

"I'm sorry," Jay said softly. "I didn't know…"

"She asked me not to blame him, and I tried. I understand his choices; he's Batman, he has to think of the bigger picture. I told him I didn't blame him, told myself over and over... but I guess I lied. Deep down, I never forgave him, and maybe that's why I left Gotham, why I've kept my distance."

The heavy topic added to the oppressive darkness, and they walked in silence until they reached a newer-looking sewer section. Jay broke the silence, "Maybe that's your reason, but did you ever think why he's kept his distance from you?"

Helena paused, then said, "He's distanced himself from the entire world. Locked himself in Gotham, indifferent to anything beyond Arkham's madness."

"But you're different. You're his daughter, his only remaining family," Jay insisted. "You lost your mother, but he lost a wife he loved, maybe even more. Doesn't he need you more now?"

"So what do you think is his reason?"

Jay shook his head, "I can only guess. Maybe he also feels guilty about your mother. He might be reminded of his failures when he sees you and is punishing himself, feeling he deserves it. Maybe he just... can't face you."

Helena fell silent. Her footsteps slowed, her thoughts echoing in the measured pace, the flashlight's golden beam wavering in the unending darkness.

"In my opinion, he needs you, just as you need him," Jay continued. "After all, you only have each other, and what's more important than family?"

Helena pondered silently for a long time, then exhaled and lightened her tone, "Geez, the old Bat's right about you—such a sunny, naive view. Is that a Kryptonian trait, seeing everything so simply?"

Jay smiled slightly, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is," Helena affirmed, pausing before adding, "It's funny, though, you've only met Batman once, yet you speak as if you've known him for years. Is that also a superpower?"

Jay inwardly cringed, chuckling it off, "Who knows? Just intuition, I guess."