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Issue #8: Parent-Teacher Conference

What must it be like to have Batman as a parent? For an apostle of shadow looming over you while you do your homework. He knows when you're sneaking out because there's a million cameras in his house. He knows when you're drunk or high because he can see, smell, hear, and feel the difference in your body.

'God, I pity Damian.'

It's a good thing he will be raised as an assassin. Actually, scratch that. It's a relatively good thing he will be raised as an assassin and nurtured to be the next head of the world's foremost assassin organization.

Speaking of the League of Shadows, I wonder when Talia will seduce Bruce and impregnate her? Man, I should have read more DC stuff because I barely know the timeline in this universe.

"Calm down, Eddy. Just… just hug Superman's thighs and live in Kansas. That's the secret to life." I mutter, calming my fraught nerves.

It had only been a few hours since Clayface's attack on Gotham Square and his subsequent defeat at the hands of Giovanni Zatara.

Having been driven back to Wayne Manor by the very worried Alfred Pennyworth and given calming tea, which, by the way, was as calming as a cup of coffee mixed with an energy drink.

"Did you say something, young master Edmund?" Alfred asks me, startling me from my random thoughts.

"I-I thought you left?" I reply, drinking my tea to hide my embarrassment.

"Nope, still here, I'm afraid." Zatanna says, her genteel form sipping the tea.

I hastily looked towards her and saw her father was here as well. "Oh, god. Anybody else here?"

"Father, I think the boy got hit in the head when we were rescuing him." Zatanna surmise incorrectly.

"No, he's just very… imaginative, dear." Giovanni replies.

I slump down in my seat, closing my eyes as they talk about me as if I wasn't here.

I can hear Giovanni placing down his tea as he spoke with Alfred. "It seems young Bruce has taken a few rambunctious students."

"That he did, Master Zatara." Alfred replies. "Although I do emphasize that young master Richard is not merely a student."

"He isn't?" Giovanna asks, startled.

"I do believe Master Bruce is intent on making him his… What's the word? Sidekick?" Alfred speaks the last word with indignity, clearly thinking of a better word. He does. "Ah, partner-in-crime is a much better term for it. Young master Richard will help him in his crusade, after all."

My eyes open, hoping to see Giovanni's reaction.

"I see." He says, briefly gazing over at her daughter. "That's understandable, then."

'It really isn't.'

Just as the conversation continued, a voice resounds across the manor.

"Alfred, I sense more people in my house than I'm comfortable with. Where- oh."

Bruce stumbles into the room, wearing a dark suit and loose tie and lipstick marks on his collar. His eyes, once glazed and drunk, now dilated to sobriety. 

"Zatara." He says, "You brought your daughter."

Zatanna seems to squirm under his gaze, but a quick pat from his father settled her. Giovanni stand from his seat and nears Bruce, extending his hands for a shake.

"It's been a long time, Bruce." He says.

"Indeed." Bruce replies, taking the hand as they gaze at each other's eyes. "Edmund. Grab Dick, head to the cave."

Giovanni smirks as he spoke out. "Dear, join them."

"What? But father…"

"C'mon, really?"

Alfred's hands sweeps away our complaints as he leads us away from the room where the two men conversed.

Before the door closed, I hear a whisper from one of them.

"Let's talk in the study.."

••

"Let's talk in the study."

The walk to the study was silent, but brief. Such is the fate of those whose friendship relied on the context of an agreement.

Of course, Zatara may have a bond with me, given that I spent two years under his tutelage to gain his art of escape and prestidigitation. Which then became the backbone of my fighting style.

An untraceable, unkillable, uncapturable shadow of justice.

As I sat on the leather-bound chair, crossing my leg over the other as I poured two glasses of dark rum.

"Thank you, Bruce." He said, taking one for himself before merely placing it in front of him. "So, Alfred told me of your… acquisition of a partner-in-crime."

I grunted, gazing deep within his eyes and seeing the well of chaos he intended to grapple with. "The city is prone to… collateral damage. Merely regarding them as by-products of their own justice."

"And you oppose this?"

I failed to answer. Not because I am in favor of that thinking, but because I am guilty of that thinking. Ever since I was but a child, I was nothing but collateral damage to a world fraught with danger.

"I want to change the world. But that's the thing… I can't. I'm just a man. I may dress up as a bat, someone who can contend with creatures stronger than I, but at the end of the day… I am but a man." My mind steeled itself, resolve strong as ever.

"So then, what will that man do? Since he can't save the world…" Zatara goaded me.

"I will save him." I stated.

Zatara smiled. "Good. You have come far since your training with me, Bruce. So far. Now, tell me about that little tyke you have with you."

"Edmund?"

It wasn't common for me to become nervous, not even against Ra's. But the secret that child has… It is invaluable, even to a magician. Especially to a man like Giovanni Zatara.

"I saved him from a blood ritual. Once exposed to the dangers of Gotham, he expressed interest in training his skills."

"I see. What of the ten souls in his body?"

'What?' His words made me speechless. My mind raced through the data I had stolen from Luthor. 'Was this the answer to his secret? To his ability?'

"From your silence, I would imply that you didn't know. His own soul is healing, Bruce, at an incomparable rate. These ten new souls may have been part of the ritual you were talking about."

The revelation shook me. I knew keeping the secret from a master magician such as Zatara would be stupid. He could advise me of ways to mitigate any disasters coming from the extra souls.

"What I will tell you is a secret you take to your grave, Zatara." I began by having him make an oath.

"Is this information valuable enough for an arcane oath?" He asked me. I answered with a simple nod. "I see. Then I shall."

"I, innvoiG raataZ, ybereh wov ot reven ylgnilliw ro ylgnilliwnu egluvid yna noitamrofni detats ni siht moor. fI I od, neht yam eht htarw fo ratnihS ekat ym ydob sa enivid ngireffo!"

As if the world responded to his words, the night sky hanging over Gotham darkened further. Thunderclouds slowly gathered over the manor as a multitude of lightning rained down upon my lawn.

Looks like Shintar was appeased by the vow.

Zatara's appearance seemed to be frazzled after the vow, but I paid it no heed as I thanked him for his trust and explained.

The contents of the files are as follows.

Edmund Serana's potential was essentially limitless.

Much like Superman, whose DNA has been acquired by Lex Luthor through a bounty claimed by Lobo, an alien mercenary; Edmund has essentially no physical, mental, nor metaphysical limits.

That is not to say that he has no limit. In fact, he has many, much like those of a normal eight-year-old.

During my week-long training of him, the data configured indicated abrupt advancement in all physical and mental test results.

It's as if he breaks his limits every day. Every day, he pushed his limits and his body's regenerating cells become much stronger, faster, and ultimately better than the ones that were destroyed in the process.

Luthor had compared his DNA to those of Superman and the results were similarly unique.

While Superman gained his preternatural ability due to his alien physique, his strength continues to grow under the harsh training he does every day. This training increases the powers on all of his abilities, albeit incrementally.

It's a slow growth, but to a powerful figure like him? Even any kind of percentage is a god-send.

Edmund, however, does not experience incremental growth. Whereas Superman might gain 0.01% per day, Edmund could gain up to 10% to 20% every day. That might not be a big number at first glance, but Edmund Serana was a human child.

Such a drastic increase in his abilities would be detrimental to his fragile body. As his physical prowess heightens, so too does the physical stress that accumulates in every over energized cell.

"He's a living time bomb." Zatara inferred through my ramblings.

"Yes. Although unsubstantiated by nothing but cold hard facts and simulations by the Batcomputer, there is a chance that this accumulation will create an explosion of matter that could decimate half of Earth." I felt like I had vomited much of my worries once I finished my spiel.

Zatara contemplated my reasoning and, I'm sure, he's thoroughly including his grand plan to whatever it is that he will say.

"What if your simulations were incorrect and, by training and honing his body to accommodate the energy generated per day, you make the same mistake as that of dear Oedipus?" Zatara asked with an air of wisdom within him.

I had expected of him to speak of prophecy and the futile attempt to beguile destiny. The latter half of his expertise on magical matters pertains to it, after all. 

"If…" I responded carefully, "If I were to make the same mistake as him, then I would gladly take responsibility. Alone. But it does not have to come to that… for his training will not only encompass breaking the limits of his physical self, but of his mental and metaphysical psyche as well."

Zatara nodded. "Have you told anyone-"

"Of course not." I immediately answered. "Mister Terrific only knows that I hacked into Luthor's database, not what I hacked it for. Superman knows nothing about the boy, except that he was a survivor of a ritual. Nothing and no one else knows."

"If that's the case, I do believe your decision to keep this secret to be the best." Zatara gazed past me, looking towards the cloudy skies. "I will check to see if any of the souls are dormant or merely remnants. If they are still complete and dormant, I will have to bind them to him."

"Why bind?"

Zatara gave a weary sigh. "Normally, I would extract them, but from what I've heard in your accounts… that blood ritual locked those souls inside of him. Extracting them could be fatal if they had fused with Edmund's soul and, if worse comes to worst, would awaken them. If they were to awaken, it could wreak havoc in his body, no matter how much his potential is."

"I sense a condition in that favor." I said with a critical eye. Never had Zatara been this generous; he said it himself: "Everything has a price. So, what is the price, Zatara?"

He smiled, "My day is coming, and it is coming fast. Everything I have built, toiled, and lost for is coming to a close. My only worry is… my dear Zatanna. She… is but a young girl."

"She's not that fragile, Zatara, at least from what I've seen." I had read reports of her latent magical ability, even the latest one from the Clayface attack. She had saved hundreds of lives without breaking a sweat.

"Your and my enemies are far too different, Bruce. Far too different." He had a long look on his face, one that I was too familiar with. "The price is an exchange of protection. I build an arcane shield inside of your student while you protect my Zatanna if she so ever needs it."

"That's it?"

"That's it. A favor from Batman is more or less the only thing she needs." He seemed confident. He must know something that I do not. This is why I hate magic. "Do we have a deal?"

••

"So… you have a boyfriend?" I ask as we descend down the long-winding stairs.

She turns her head and looks at me with pitiable eyes and a pouting smile. "Aww. Do you have a crush on me? That's so cute."

Not anymore, apparently. I really don't like that look.

"Just… making conversation." I reply back, shrugging my shoulders as I hide my embarrassed blush.

"That's alright, bud. But I think I'm a bit too old for you." She laughs shortly, skipping down a few steps as I follow suit.

Thankfully, not long soon after that brief conversation, the view of the gigantic cave system appeared before us. Just like last time, the extensive roofs featured a host of large bats with a new feature; hooked with four thin grappling lines is a large bronze penny with the side portrait of Abraham Lincoln embedded within. 

"Batman sure has… interesting taste." She tried to compliment the coin, but failed to do so. Not that I could blame her.

"Batsy took it as a souvenir when this criminal… uh, Penny Plunderer came into town and tried to steal it."

I still remember that day. It was the third day of my training when Batman came through the waterfall entrance inside of the Batmobile. Attached to the vehicle was the large coin and an assortment of coinages that Alfred had told Bruce to throw out.

Fortunately for Bruce, Dick and I really liked the large penny, so Alfred allowed it inside of the Batcave. Unfortunately for Bruce, Dick, and I, Alfred said that he wouldn't clean it. Now, we have an M-W-F schedule for cleaning the coin.

"Wow. Alfred really runs this cave, huh?" Zatanna chuckled at my little story.

"Sure do." I reply as I run down the supercomputers and begin typing up the incident from earlier.

And, just like that, dozens of newspaper front lines and news station reports appeared on the large screen. To be honest, the screen was so large that I had to squint my eyes to not burn my damn retinas. I wonder how the Bat does this every single day.

<Earlier tonight, the meta-human known only as Clayface~>

<~One of the greatest magicians alive, Zatara~>

<~dozens were injured, but thanks to~>

I turn the chair around to see Zatanna's bright smile as she gazes at the screen behind me. "Neat, huh?"

"It is." She replies. "Looks like our next show will be sold out."

Seeing her in a trance, I take my shot and ask her a question. "Uh, why do you have magic? Is it like training or talent or something?"

She snorts, giving me a dazzling smile and winking. "Well, since you were so kind earlier and wanted to help me, might as well tell you."

"Evomer tsud morf sehtolc!" She twirls around. Her dust and dirt stained suit becomes sparkly clean as she faces me once more. With a wink, her haggard face turns unblemished. "Huzzah!"

Knowing what she wanted, I place an amazed expression on my face and begin clapping. "Whoa! You are a born showman!"

"I am, aren't I?" She puffs her meager chest before explaining her origin. "You see, my father and I are what you call Homo Magi. We're humans, yes, but we evolved to be a human capable of interacting with an invisible energy. We call it Magic."

"Magic? That sounds… normal."

She chuckles. "I know, right? But that's what magicians like us are. We turn the normal into abnormal and the natural into supernatural. Our brand of magic is called Logomancy."

"Logomancy." I whisper.

Sporadic memories from previous viewings of the animated cartoons began to resurface in my brain, allowing me to understand her meaning without subsequent explanations.

It seems their brand of magic works when they speak backwards.

"Yep. Allows us to concentrate and focus our magic on our words. Specifically, backwards words. For example…" She waves her hand around me. "Taolf."

My body suddenly feels light as a feather as I float up from my seat. I try to grab the chair in my panic. "Whoa! This is so cool!"

"Right?" She seems ecstatic that she might have forgotten that I'm still floating away.

"Uh, Z! Get me down please," I plead, having lost my grip on the chair and am now in the strike zone of a stalactite. "Oh, god!"

I hear her mutter a curse before her words echoed around the cave. "Llaf ekil a fael!"

The spell takes immediate effect as I float down slowly, my gaze locking onto hers as she wipes the sweat off her forehead. It seems that even such small magic consumes much of her stamina or it might be that she still hasn't recovered what she spent during the rescue operations.

As soon as I land, I hug the ground as my stomach urged its contents out. Fortunately, I hold it down.

Footsteps soon resound across the cave as Dick lands exuberantly on the main cave platform. Having freshly showered, his slick dark hair striking water onto us like a wet dog.

"Dude!'

"C'mon!"

Dick merely gives us a toothy smile. "Sorry! So, what were you guys doing?"

I grin, giving Zatanna a look. "You wanna test it out, Dick?"

"No thanks!" Dick seems to have grown some sense of danger. 'Interesting and annoying.'

I annoy Zatanna some more with my questions about her magic, with Dick chiming in every so often.

Soon, an hour passes as another set of footsteps resound around the cave as Giovanni, Alfred, and Bruce enter the cave proper.

The three had a serious expression on their faces as they surrounded… me.

"Uh, did I do anything?" I ask with a smile on my face. Whatever it is, it can't match my baby face's adorable smile.

"You're right. He is presumptuous." Giovanni mutters.

"Edmund, we must speak at once," Bruce states in his usual stern tone. "Alfred, please give Richard and Zatanna a tour of the caves."

Seeing Bruce and Giovanni's hardened expression, Dick and Zatanna followed after Alfred and leaves me alone, an eight-year-old, with two grown men in the cave.

'I've been warned of this exact event somewhere. I just don't remember where.'

Bruce nods to Giovanni as the magician removes his suit and shirt, revealing his well-toned, scar-decked torso.

"What I'm about to tell you remains only in this room. Understood?" Bruce's words brings me no comfort in what's about to happen.

I nod, globules of sweat now on my forehead. "W-what's happening?"

Giovanni answers for him. "You, my child, have an ability. An extremely powerful one, at that. Now, that ability is helping you heal from the wounds caused by the blood ritual."

"Wounds? All my wounds were healed after a day- fuck. It's not a physical wound, is it?" I give a discontent sigh.

'If Giovanni is the one healing me, then that wound might be related to the effect of the ritual. Something to do with a curse, most probably.'

"Quick on the uptake, too." Giovanni mutters. "Yes, your soul is housing ten others."

My eyes widened. "What? I have eleven souls inside of me." I clutch my chest, suddenly feeling it pounding against my skin.

"Normally, such a number would have collapsed your very essence, but, as I said, your ability is resisting the collapse. every day, it strains to keep you alive and every day it breaks through that strain and makes it easier for you to live with the souls." He continues his explanation before muttering a spell.

A surgical scalpel, toned in silver, appears in his hands. "This is the Suture of Souls. A magical artifact stolen by the god Osiris from Lord Dhanvanthi. Given to me as a party favor."

I take a step back as he wave the blade around as if conducting a silent symphony. "W-will it hurt?"

"Yes, it will. Badly." Giovanni states truthfully. "But it won't kill you. All I have to do is to see what happened after the ritual. If the ten souls inside of you are complete and dormant or merely remnants… fractured shards of their souls."

I reluctantly agree to his surgery. Not that I could have rejected it since, apparently, I have the souls of the ten metahumans inside of my body.

Bruce guides us to the southern side of the cave, where a room is built on the face of the cave wall. A half-furnished medical room, equipped only with a single metal bed, a tray of suturing needs, and a slew of machines to help keep a patient alive. 

I remove my dirty shirt and lay down on the table, feeling the cold metal against the back of my skin. Short and ragged, I breathe through the dreadful anticipation.

Giovanni tries to calm me, telling me the pain would end shortly. Frankly, I'm not afraid of the pain nor of the death that looms as he begins his operation.

As he grabs the blade and places its tip at the center of my chest, I can't help but picture that moment on the Ferris wheel.

Back then, I had accepted my death. Barely, that is.

I do have one regret. My mother would be bereft of a son. I would make her cry forever. Dick, too, would suffer horribly, for he would have blamed himself for my death, even if it wasn't his fault.

'That would be horrible of me. Oh, well.'

I chuckle, earning the attention of Bruce.

"What is it?" He asked.

I give him a smile, radiant and dazzling. "I guess I just won't die."

He nods ever so slightly, seeing the will behind my words. "Are you ready?"

I grin. Ready for the operation and the future ahead. 

"I was born ready!"

Bruce's internal monologue/ POV is always past tense because he is always looking at things from two different perspective.

Batman's POV is present tense like all others

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