Issue #5: The Prestige

I don't like the title of this chapter. Please comment down something that is more appropriate, preferably a pun to a movie.

•••

'Pain. The ultimate teacher.'

The agony is what defines us, what makes the human experience worth it. Without pain, then pleasure would not exist. Believe me, a life of pleasure is no life at all.

Then, again, who am I to say such a thing when pain is my devious mistress?

I now stand at the apex of the Batcave as sweat continues to dampen my shirt and my hands spasm uncontrollably. My eyes scanned my surroundings, even though tilting my head is a pain like no other. Scratch that, like one other.

"You've been staring at the cave for half an hour now, young master Edmund." Alfred reminds me. "Are you not going to take your break?"

"I… am.. taking… my break." I answer slowly, careful not to move a muscle. 

You see, my body is now a delicate piece of machinery, and even an ounce of movement would prove to be dangerous. Fluids could leak, gears could break, and, I shudder to think; the battery dies out.

It has been approximately six days since our initial clash-slash-training with Batman and it has been approximately zero days since he trained me.

That's right. The Dark Knight has been training Dick Grayson non-stop, subjecting him to a routine far worse than we experienced almost a week ago. Still, the boy wonder took all of it in light, even having time and energy to play around soon after.

Yes, I will join him for a little while if my body can take it and before I leave for home.

While Dick does his training, Batman did something different for me.

Every single day, I'm subjected to a series of physical and mental tests. Including but not limited to mental acuity, stress response, reflexes, fighting skills, cardiovascular endurance, strength training, speed measurement, memorizations, fear response, perception measurement, mental focus, willpower, and everything in between. I'm not even sure if half of those words are real.

Every day, Batman would hum and grunt in response to my marks and results, but, like Lex Luthor, he neither told nor even showed any hint of a response to my results. This guy is a perplexing wall of unreadable expression.

Anyway, after the barrage of tests, Batman would let me rest for one hour. After that, it's back to Dr. Jekyll's experiments.

Still, now that I have time to think about it. I feel like my results in the various tests are getting incrementally better.

The voice of my mad scientist, Batman, severs my thoughts.

"Enough rest. Time to lift some weights." He orders, snapping his fingers at me.

I return to the eastern side of the caves where a large amount of gym equipment is located. Some are so advanced that they need to be hooked up to the central cooling system in the western area.

I set myself up in a Smith machine, cracking my neck to loosen it up. 

"Begin."

I push up. On the first day, I could push 10 kilograms ten times, which surprised me, but after that, my arms had nearly turned to jelly. The fourth day, however, that number increased to a whooping eleven pushes. 

'Astonishing growth for an eight-year-old, I know.'

The fifth day, however, Batman removed the machine from the tests. And, now, as I push for the twelve times, my arms tremble as my lungs yell at me to stop, but I did not stop. I push past thirteen before gaining a bit of bounce for a fourteenth time.

I wanted to go for fifteen, but my arms pleaded for mercy. Halfway through the rep, I gently set the weights down and remove myself from the machine.

"C-can we count that as 15 and a half?"

Batman hums indescribably, merely jotting down on his notepad. He motions for me to do the next test.

We walk past the supercomputers, and further north, where an omnidirectional treadmill is located. This must be what he'll use for the speedsters, at least once he modified it to handle their speed.

I climb up the treadmill and carefully walk to the middle, getting nearly used to the balance issue. I steady my body and nodded at Batman. 

"Begin."

The treadmill thrummed with power, the gears slowly humming back to life. I take a long breath and jog.

The thuds of my feet are the only sound in my ears as I find solace in the rhythmic hums of the treadmill. I would have loved to have some music in my ears, but Batman forbade it on the second day. He said that it changed my results drastically.

Just like the weights, my top speed clocks in at fourteen kilometers per hour maintained over four minutes before a downward spiral. The following days, I could maintain that speed for an added half to a three-quarters of a minute to my maximum time.

I huff and puff as exhaustion begins to creep into my mind and body. I close my eyes in a vain attempt to conserve energy, focusing solely on the moves of feet and the sound of the treadmill.

Slowly, but surely, I begin to pass my maximum time. Like the machine, I wanted to double my time, but, unfortunately, my body shook with tiredness and I fell onto the treadmill. The running belt mercilessly sent me crashing into the hard cave floor.

"End." Batman nods at me from below him as he notes the time. "3 minutes and 47 seconds. Impressive."

"T-thanks!"

"Rest for an hour. Convene in the main room." Batman leaves me to my devices, still lying on the floor where bats probably take their excrement.

•••

The world exists on a set of rules. Rules so strict, so sensitive, so distinct that it becomes impossible to defy them.

Many believe that magic or superpowers are able to defy and revolt against these rules. But what if I were to tell you that these abilities you speak of are themselves a facet of the rules?

That's why I believe that true freedom lies not in a lawless world, but in one where rules create a world that does not explain what freedom means.

I have seen the improbable, met the impossible, and battled the insufferable, but never have I chanced upon a creature so… incomprehensible.

Edmund Serana is incomprehensible. One that I foolishly believe could achieve true freedom.

As I watch him chat with Richard, I feel jealousy? Yes, the emotion of envy. Not because of his supernatural abilities, but because of his potential to see what I cannot. Yet, at the same time, I wish to teach him so he may reach that which I cannot.

'He is a perplexing wall of incomprehensible features.'

I have not told him about his results yet. In fact, I have told no one. Not even Alfred.

Why? I ask myself that often. Is it because I am afraid? Is it because of jealousy? I do not presume to know.

What I need is evidence. Hard-hitting evidence, one that will assuage any and all excuses and doubts about the matter.

My thoughts are too great, so much so that I have not been listening to their words to me.

"Can you repeat yourself?" I ask calmly.

The two of them looked at each other and Edmund told me once more. "We were wondering if you could allow Dick to go to the Gotham Bazaar. Mother will take me there this coming Saturday. I think it will help with our cover if I'm with Bruce Wayne's adopted son." 

"I see." I nod in agreement, much to their excitement. It seems that they have become good friends. Good. "We will not have training tomorrow. I have matters to attend to."

I turn to leave, my mind racing for my next course of action.

What I need is evidence. Where can I get that? Then, the answer came to me.

The man who first took an interest in the boy. He who used a machine to extrapolate and rejuvenate the boy using his own powers. 

Lex Luthor.

•••

Dressed up in a clean white shirt over a dark blue blazer and silk pants, I arrived at the Wayne Manor. The excitement ran through my veins, but I restrained myself as to not dirty my leather shoes and gently waxed-backed black hair.

The door opens, and Alfred appears in his regular, yet still chic, butler uniform. "Ah, finely dressed, young master Edmund. Are you here for young master Richard?"

"Yep! We're going to the yearly bazaar in Gotham Square." My smile reaches my ears because I have something planned for today. After all, this is the only time in the year where I could freely travel around without the constant supervision of my parents or Olgar, since he's still on physical therapy.

Dick comes out soon after, wearing a hooded jacket and jeans, which, compared to my attire, seem underwhelming. "Man, you look nice! Alfred, I'll be leaving!"

"Do take care, young master Richard. You, too, young master Edmund." Alfred waved us off as we took off in the car.

"Uh, where's your mother? I thought she'll be our chaperone?" Dick asks, to which I shrug and point towards the man in the suit in the passenger seat of the car.

"That's Marco. Another bodyguard. He'll be our chaperone." I introduce the bodyguard. "He has been informed not to eavesdrop, spy, or even look in our direction unless either we are in danger or specifically commanded to do so. Right, Marco?"

"Yes, sir," Marco answered calmly.

"Uh, okay?" Dick waves off my weird explanations and merely grins in excitement for the bazaar. "So, what's our agenda for the night?"

"We're going shopping, first and foremost. Mother gave me an allowance for some outfits we can use in training." I say.

"Oh, yeah! I heard Kord Industries is setting up a stall for their Discontinued Elasti-suits. I think Dayton Industries is also…" Dick is quite literally thrumming with vibrant energy as he discusses the various companies that are participating in the Gotham Industrial Fair–all sponsored by Wayne Enterprises.

The first time he showed me the large wad of $1000 bills and told me that Alfred ordered him to 'use it all', I patted his shoulder and commiserate in his unholy desire to punch Alfred for saying that it was only 'pocket money'.

Soon, the car slows down as we arrive at our destination.

Gotham Square, once filled with nothing but a wall of skyscrapers flooding hundreds of advertisement to the thousands of pedestrians that traversed the large open space, now emitted a homey atmosphere what with the fairy lights that hung across the air above the tent stalls and makeshift metal stores made of the latest micro-engineering technology.

Laughter and echoes of joy riled up the senses of Dick and me as we, too, blended in with the crowd of patrons and on-lookers.

Before Dick could run into the metal stores, I grab him by the shoulder and lead him towards the main attraction of the Fair. I want to get tickets before they sell out.

"C'mon, Dick!" I yell, weaving through the crowd in my small, frail form.

Dick, much taller and bigger than me, let himself be pulled and merely gazed around in anticipation. "Where are we going, m-"

The sight of an enormous circus tent appeared before our eyes, causing Dick to become speechless. The ropes barely held the tarps as dozens of excited patrons entered the open flaps.

Multi-chromatic lights blow lackadaisical atop the red and white big top, like fairies dancing around in their misty forests.

"Our main reason for coming here." I mutter as I look back at Dick.

The absolute fear visible in his widened eyes, sweat began to pour down his childish face.

'Fuck.'

My hand clasps his shoulder, tip-toeing to reach it properly, and gently pat it. "I'm sorry. I just got excited… I didn't mean-"

"It's alright." Dick calms himself down, wiping away the mountain of sweat before it poured on his nice sweater. "I-I just got… memories, hell of a thing."

"I can go in by myself. I'm just buying some tickets." Becoming a bigger man and making a compromise with him dejects Dick as he shakes his head and chooses to accompany me.

As we enter the tent, a menagerie of wonder and magic appears before us. Elephants riding large beach balls, butterflies the size of dogs flying above us, sprinkling the patrons below with mystical rainbow-like sparkles, the wailing echo of a Beluga whale surrounded the insides of the tent.

The walls, unlike that of the tarps outside, show no sign of any encasement. An orange horizon of a paradise-like coast surrounds us as a bright, burning yellow sun appears deep into the distance.

"This is… magic?" Dick mutters to himself, shock to his core. 

The sight of such an amazing display of power and knowledge of the arcane impacted my very soul. It feels as if destiny has led me to witness such a sight, as if it were written somewhere that I would be here.

My eyes clock the raised platform serving as a stage. Behind it are red curtains with an image of a comely gentleman in a suit and bowtie. A handlebar mustache and top hat make me sure that I am looking at the moving picture of Giovanni Zatara.

"Do you know him?" Dick asks me, severing my thoughts. It seems that he noticed my serious staring at the man's moving image.

"Yeah, one of the greatest magicians in the whole nine hells." I state with a radiant smile on my face, before I race towards the counter where they sell tickets.

A long line reveals itself to me, one that I can trace towards the parking lot. I didn't even know that Zatara's fame in the city–and perhaps the entire country–is this high, which bums me out for a moment before I notice a lone girl a few ways away from the pews and the hubbub of the people.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I saunter my way towards her and scrutinize her form. Her clothes are similar to the ones worn by Zatara in that moving picture. Except that instead of pants, she's wearing a black shorts and mesh stockings.

"Hey!" I greet, startling her. "I'm Edmund."

"Hey, Edmund." She says, gazing at me with curiosity. "What'cha doing here?"

"Uh, maybe the same thing as you. Buying tickets for the magic show." I reply with a light chuckle.

Once she hears my words, her eyes brighten and give me a creepily sunny smile. "Well, ain't you in luck. You don't have to fall in line to get tickets. I have them here with me!"

She pulls out two tickets from out of nowhere and waves it around.

I narrow my eyes and look around us before seeing that nobody's looking at us. "That's lucky… what do I have to do to get it?"

"Oh, what a tricky fella you are." She winks at me. "You answer a riddle of mine, and these tickets are all yours!"

I look at the crowd again. "I could have Marco stay in line–"

"But will you get the tickets?" She taunts.

"Screw it." I say, cracking my knuckles.

She claps her hands in joy. "Alrighty! So, here's the deal: I give you a riddle and you have thirty seconds to answer. You can't ask other questions or for hints. But I will tell you that the answer lies within this room. Clear?"

"Crystal." I say before a glass-shattering snap forces me to double down in pain. The ringing makes my body tremble as it scales higher in pitch before a bubble-like pop removes the sharp sound.

A warm hand shakes my shoulder awake, startling me as I stumble back a few steps away.

"Whoa! That was fast. How'd you score them?" Dick asks me.

'What the fuck was that? Why is he here and… no, I was inside of the tent.'

I look around and see people milling about, patrons heading out of the tent with tickets in their hands. Just a moment ago, I was one of them and talking to this girl.

I gaze towards Dick. "Did you see this little girl? She's dressed like Zatara, but, like, very sexy, which is a weird thing to say about a little girl."

"You just came out of the tent a second ago. What–wait, is this all part of the magic show?" Dick seems very excited that the show's creating hallucinations in people.

"No, of course not. I think." I look around, sweat beginning to pour down my face when Dick grabs me by the shoulder.

"So, we're going to shop now?" He asks me, clearly not at all curious about what's happening to me, and can barely hide the anticipation in his voice.

I sigh, mulling things over for a moment. "Yeah… we're going shopping now."

•••

"My name is Bruce Wayne."

'No, too strict.'

"Hi, I'm Bruce Wayne."

'No, too casual.'

"Bro, I'm Brucey."

'Way too casual.'

"Good Evening, I'm Bruce Wayne."

'Maybe, but too not Bruce Wayne.'

'I have it.'

"Lovely Evening, Bruce Wayne."

'Perfect.'

I crane my neck, feeling suffocated by the tie binding my collars around like a noose. Try as I might to reason out, being this version of Bruce helps me in certain situations.

To hide in plain sight by being the brightest star in the world.

The car door opens, revealing the smothered paparazzi and flickering flashed of their cameras. Their trivial screaming questions whizz past me as I lightly waved and give a bright smile, one that dazzles the cameras.

I place my hands around the buttocks of the two supermodels I brought with me, an essential asset to my cover. Their managers have explicitly promised that they can keep a secret and make small-talk while I'm busy.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Central City's Star Of The Future!"

The announcers welcome us to the music hall, where the most famous, richest, and powerful figures on the west coast are to be celebrated alongside the city's scientific figures.

An elite farce if I ever see one, but one that gives me an opportunity to solve my problem.

My gaze languidly scanned the room as my eye in the sky fully operated on hacking the security cameras within and around the hall.

As I wade my way through the crowd of greedy executives and neophyte cyber merchants towards the bar to the left, a man bumps into me.

Dark skin with frizzy dark hair and a charming smile on his face, the man holds a tipsy woman in his arms. One look on their faces and he could tell that they were deeply in love.

What made me pay attention to the man, however, is that the eye in the sky can't see him at all. It's like he's invisible to it.

'Found him.'

I stand in front of him, a smirk on my face as I greet him, "Lovely evening, Bruce Wayne."

"We've met before, Mr. Wayne," The man says, grabbing my hand and forcefully shakes it. "Michael Holt. And this is my lovely and drunkard of a wife, Paula."

"Lovely to meet you, Paula!" I swiftly grab a hold of her hand and kiss her knuckles, earning a cooing noise from her drunk mind.

Micheal chuckles, "I didn't know someone of your…. Temperament would bother attending something this far from home."

"Who am I to say no to free booze?" I grin, "Isn't that right, ladies?"

My gaggle giggles at my joke, joining me at the hip and holding onto my body like it's some kind of lifesaving antidote.

"Ah, being young…" Micheal shakes his head as he sighs about his age. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Mr. Wayne. I gotta get the wife home. Have a delightful party!"

"You too!" 

A smile graces my face as I make my way into the bar and pretend to enjoy myself so thoroughly that half-way through the night, I have become too much of a nuisance. The organizers, knowing full well who I am, kick me out, along with my irate companions.

As I arrive back in my hotel, I dismiss the women in the most obnoxious way possible. By throwing up on them. 

After seeing them leave, I grab the balcony chair and place it at the center of the room before heading towards the bedroom. A metal box containing my suit lies in the center of the bed with which I quickly open and don with practiced ease.

The cape flutters under the fan fixture above the ceiling as I open the window to the balcony and jump out of the building.

Blasted by wuthering heights, my cape quickly transforms into a semi-solid fabric, thus allowing me to glide through the night. Whenever the wind begins a downdraft, I fire off a grappling hook and swing on the sides of the office buildings.

Soon, I arrive at my destination; a skyscraper large enough to overlook the whole of the city. Crouching down the stone bannister and gazing out into the open, I await his arrival.

In truth, I would not have asked to meet him if it were not for the danger of being seen. I could have infiltrated it easily, but these past few days, I have been keen to… protect my interests from malevolent hands.

I do not know if this is a direct consequence of adopting my own child or being somewhat of a respected figure to another child. Either way, there is a part of me, however I try to hide and suppress that irks at the thought of recklessness in which I have operated in the last few years.

"So, you wanted to speak with me?" His voice soon enters my cowl. 

A looming presence reveals himself behind me, along with seven other smaller figures that hover electronically around my form.

"Who would have thunk that the infamous Bruce Wayne would be the lackey of Batman?" Micheal Holt, a.k.a Mister Terrific, steps out of the shadows.

His black jacket with a large red T in the center rhythmically hums as my HUD analyzes its composition before it goes dark.

"A trifling method of synchronized technology." He shakes his head as the cowl quickly replaces the lenses with another pair. "Why not just stick to one company, Batman?"

"I find a mish-mash of tech to be better at fending off cyber attacks." My body trembles slightly when the cowl's sub-sonic hearing aid fizzles off. "I suppose I was wrong on that matter."

"Very." He confirms. "Now, you said in your letter to meet you here… for what?"

I sigh, standing up to my full height. "I need your help in infiltrating LexCorp."

•••

Apologies for the multiple POV's. I'm just trying to set up Edmund's powers and short-term stories.