'Real' Gods

Batman was perched on a thick, ancient branch high above the forest floor, concealed by the dense canopy. The moonlight barely reached through the leaves, casting fleeting shadows across his silhouette. He blended perfectly with the darkness, a shadow among shadows. The bat-like shape of his cape rippled slightly with the night breeze. Over time, Charlie had honed his stealth skills, mastering how to use the sounds of nature to mask his movements. He guided Batman through the treetops, using the rustling of leaves and the creaking of branches to mask his approach. The advanced noise-dampening technology in his suit made him almost impossible to detect, even by beings as ancient as Layla.

Below, Layla staggered through the underbrush, her steps uneven, her body barely holding together. The remnants of her tattered dress fluttered as she moved, revealing the glowing cracks that ran through her body like molten veins, hinting at the immense power within her, now leaking away. She looked nothing like the formidable ancient being she had been moments ago.

Realizing that she had no chance left in her weakened state, Layla made a decision—one that ran counter to her nature and pride. She adopted a tactic that could be summarized as "surrender quickly, so you won't get hit anymore." She threw herself down onto the forest floor, letting her legs stretch out haphazardly, sinking into the wet leaves and earth. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and for the first time in centuries, she felt a sense of strange relief, as if the weight of an ancient burden was momentarily lifted. In that moment, she decided to accept whatever fate awaited her.

She raised a hand feebly, as if the gesture might somehow convey her submission. Her shoulders sagged, and she tilted her head back against the rough bark of a tree, her face turned up toward the dark canopy, where Batman's shadow loomed above. She knew he was there. She could feel his presence as a cold pressure that settled over her like an iron vice.

"I just wanted to prove my strength... to show that I could be reasoned with." Her voice was barely more than a whisper. She stared into the darkness, her expression tinged with bitterness. "I thought this was going to be like a martial duel—something where I could show my power. But I ended up in a script where the curator brings out a gun instead."

Her eyes, dull with exhaustion, shifted to the empty sky beyond the branches, where moonlight poured through like silver threads. It was almost ironic, she thought. She had tried to display her might, only to find herself outmatched by powers far beyond her expectations.

Charlie, perched above, listened intently to her words. His expression behind the mask remained unreadable, but he wasn't ready to trust her yet. He activated the lie detector built into Batman's helmet. He knew it wasn't foolproof, especially against a non-human being like Layla, but it was better than nothing.

"Friday, is she telling the truth?" he asked through his helmet's internal communication system.

Friday's voice responded with a calm precision. "The polygraph results indicate that her statements are truthful, sir. However, I must remind you that she is a non-human entity, and the readings may not be entirely accurate. The polygraph is designed primarily for human responses, and while it can serve as a reference, it is not fully reliable in this scenario."

Charlie nodded slightly, his mind weighing the information. Layla wasn't human, but he had read enough about Batman's encounters with otherworldly beings to know that the polygraph could sometimes pick up truthfulness even in creatures from beyond Earth.

Batman's voice, cold and methodical, cut through the silence. "Why did you surrender?" he demanded.

Layla hesitated, a pained expression crossing her face. She leaned back against the tree, her limbs trembling with the effort to keep her form intact. Her breath steamed in the cool night air, mixing with the faint embers that still glowed from the cracks in her body.

"Because, like I said... I'm tired," she replied, her voice carrying a raw, almost defeated edge. "Tired of the way things are—the way we, the ancients, cling to half-lives, never truly living, but never able to die. Some of us call it eternal life, but I've had enough of it."

She paused, the ghost of a bitter smile touching her lips. Her eyes, which had once burned with the pride of an ancient being, now seemed hollow, shadowed by centuries of weariness. "The others... they've forgotten what they used to be. They only feel alive through human emotions—by feeding off of them, mimicking them."

Layla chuckled, but it came out as more of a rasp, rough and humorless. "They don't even realize that we're becoming more human over time. We're forgetting our true nature. And the saddest part is that even this imitation is a poor one."

She looked into the darkness where she knew Batman stood, invisible but palpable, like a shadow with weight. "They mimic humans, copying their desires, their fears, pretending to have thoughts and feelings of their own. It's pathetic, really. I'd rather be among humans, even if it means facing their hostility."

For a moment, her gaze softened, and a flicker of something vulnerable shone through the ancient persona. She looked up at the moonlight slicing through the treetops, her expression wistful. "...Maybe, if I spend more time with humans, I'll find something closer to being truly alive."

Her voice broke slightly on the last words, revealing a depth of emotion that she could barely contain. It was the first time she had felt fear in centuries, real fear—like a blade pressed to her throat, or a noose tightening around her neck. It was this fear, this raw instinct of survival, that made her feel truly alive for the first time in ages.

"I know my real worth to you," she said, forcing herself to focus again. "I know what you want."

She coughed, her form flickering like a candle about to go out, barely held together by the ancient power that pulsed weakly within her. "You want to understand us—the ancients. You fear what you don't understand, and I can help with that. I can be a bridge between your world and mine."

Charlie remained silent, considering her words. Her offer had weight, especially in the context of the challenges he faced. Professor Miyazaki and others in the division would be eager for any insight into the ancient beings, especially given how rare these encounters had become in modern times. With her cooperation, humanity's understanding of these beings could accelerate, and perhaps they could even find a way to end the threat they posed.

"And there's something else," Layla added, a note of urgency creeping into her voice. "You should know... I'm not the only one who's woken up. There are three more—just like me, but even more cautious."

"They're like me and Laitos," she continued, each word sounding as though it cost her a piece of her remaining strength. "We're all in bad shape, not fully resurrected yet. But if they're given time, they could regain their full power, and that's definitely not what you want."

Charlie frowned behind his mask, considering the implications. What she said made sense. These other ancient beings could pose a serious threat if they managed to recover their strength. Taking them down while they were still vulnerable could save countless lives—and gain him more of the hero points he needed to stay ahead.

"Friday, how long until the Ninth Special Service Division arrives?" he asked.

"They will be on-site in twenty seconds, sir," Friday replied. "Do you believe they can handle her?"

Charlie glanced down at Layla's collapsed form. "Do you think they can control this ancient being?" he asked, wanting a second opinion.

"Yes, sir. Her combat abilities have been reduced to almost zero. The structure of her body is barely holding together, and she's vulnerable to conventional weapons at this point. I believe the division can secure her without any issues."

Charlie exhaled slowly, the tension easing from his shoulders. "All right. Let's leave it to the cleaners. But just in case, remind me to have backup assigned when I get back. Better safe than sorry."

"Understood, sir," Friday responded.

Charlie allowed himself a brief moment of relief, but he remained vigilant. He knew his teammates had a tendency to be unpredictable, and even after the battle was technically over, he preferred to take extra precautions. He'd learned that the hard way during his time with the division. He couldn't always be the one doing everything, but he could ensure they were ready for whatever came next.

Just as he was preparing to signal the division, Layla's voice cut through the silence once more, tinged with a grim seriousness that sent a chill down his spine.

"There's one more thing you need to know..." Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to continue. "…The ancient humans thought that we, the ancients, were gods. But they were wrong. We were just lucky enough to touch a fragment of something extraordinary—life that is slightly beyond human comprehension."

She paused, her eyes fixed on the shadows where Batman stood.

"But the real 'gods' are coming back, too. And you might want to be prepared for that."