"Breaking News: Gotham Union Station under attack. Terrorists have released a bio-virus, infecting multiple citizens. Police have cordoned off the station."
The news anchor reported live on the sudden bioterror attack in Gotham.
Dark red gas billowed out from the station, spreading across the skyline.
"Oh no! We need to get out of here!"
The on-site reporter, seeing the ominous red gas approaching, fled the scene as quickly as possible.
Gunfire erupted from within the station.
People infected by the virus turned violent, attacking the police with unbridled frenzy.
Unprepared officers barely had time to draw their weapons before being overwhelmed by the mob.
As the gas spread, the number of infected grew rapidly.
Chaos and panic consumed the streets. Cars, stores, and even banks became targets of the crazed attackers.
The disorder rippled outward, engulfing the entire city in terror.
Bruce watched the horrifying scenes on the screen, his mind spinning in turmoil.
"No, no, no!"
He spun around in a panic and dashed toward Peter's room.
Bursting through the door, Bruce shouted, "Sir! Gotham!"
Peter looked up from his phone at the frantic Bruce.
"Sir, Gotham is under attack!"
"I know, Bruce."
Peter turned calmly to face him. "They've released a bio-virus. This is just the start of their grand scheme."
"Sir, is it... the Court of Owls?"
"Most likely."
Peter stood and walked to the window, gazing across the river at the city. The Martian Manhunter had recently warned him about the Court of Owls developing a blood-serum virus. Now, its deployment left little doubt about who was behind this chaos.
"Alfred and..is-Alfred is still in Gotham! I have to go back!" Bruce exclaimed, desperate.
"Wait, Bruce. Do you even know what they're trying to do?" Peter asked, halting him.
"No... I don't."
"They want to strip Gotham of hope, Bruce. And you can't give them that hope right now."
Peter locked eyes with him. "You can't change anything by going back. For your safety, I suggest you stay here in Metropolis."
"No, sir," Bruce replied with determination. "I must return."
"Even if it means being killed by deranged attackers or captured by the Court of Owls?"
"Yes, sir. You've said that fear breeds strength. I may not bring Gotham hope, but I can bring terror to those bastards."
Bruce took a deep breath, bowing deeply. "Thank you for taking care of me, sir. I've learned so much from you—how to face my fears, how to confront life. Things I've never felt before. Thank you, sir."
Unclasping his watch, Bruce handed it to Peter. "Sir, I don't know what lies ahead. Could you keep this watch safe for me?"
Peter stared at the watch—Bruce's father's heirloom—and hesitated.
Shaking his head, he returned it to Bruce. "I don't need it, Bruce. You should keep it."
Peter knew Bruce intended the watch as a gift. But such a meaningful item was not something he could accept.
'The last thing I need is to be tangled in karma. Dealing with Superman is headache enough, let alone adding a brooding Batman to the mix. If a few more problem children show up, I might lose years off my life.'
After Bruce left, Martian Manhunter entered the room.
"You really let him go?"
"Of course. I'm not a savior."
Peter shrugged indifferently. "Do I look like some selfless hero?"
"Maybe not. But Bruce respects you deeply," J'onn replied. "As they say, 'Anyone can be a father, but only a hardworking man becomes a dad.' He seems to see you as one."
"First, I'm not middle-aged," Peter countered, glancing at the chaotic scenes of Gotham on TV. "Second, I have no interest in being anyone's 'dad.'"
"Mmm, Peter, your words sound quite unconvincing."
"Are you reading my mind? How are you so sure?" Peter asked, exasperated.
"No, I never intrude on others' thoughts. But your face says it all."
Nighttime. Gotham.
Bruce tightened his collar to conceal his face as he stood amidst the chaos.
The city's turmoil raged on, the police overwhelmed and unable to regain control.
From a nearby street corner, cries and curses echoed. Bruce swiftly ducked into a phone booth.
After glancing around to ensure no one was watching, he dialed Wayne Manor.
After several unanswered attempts, he sighed and hung up, deciding to visit the manor in person.
As he stepped out, he spotted a group of thugs beating a man to the ground.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
Seeing the man writhing in pain, Bruce intervened.
"Get lost, kid!" one of the thugs yelled, continuing the assault.
Clenching his teeth, Bruce grabbed a nearby stick and charged.
Minutes later, breathless and bruised, Bruce evaded the thugs, climbing onto the rooftop of an under-construction building.
He stood at the edge, gazing at the drop below and the rooftop across the gap.
Hearing the thugs' footsteps approaching, fear surged within him.
"No... I can do this. Conquer fear, and you gain strength."
Steeling himself, he took a deep breath, stepped back, then sprinted forward.
Leaping into the air, he barely landed on the opposite rooftop's edge.
But before he could stabilize, he slipped, falling backward.
"No!"
As he plummeted, despair filled his heart. Memories of falling into the bat cave as a child overwhelmed him.
Reaching out helplessly, he envisioned the bat looming over him.
Suddenly, the black figure turned into Peter's face.
Peter dived, grabbing Bruce mid-air and holding him tightly.
Boom!
They landed heavily, Peter absorbing the impact to protect Bruce.