Rain pounded against the glass. Lightning struck the skies again and again. Bruce stood still in front of the window, taking it all in. The room was almost completely dark, like the mouth of a cave. He liked it that way.
Alfred stood in the back of the room, quietly watching the lightning-lit silhouette of his young master. He wished often that he could comfort Bruce, but the boy's wounds were too deep.
The bell above the elevator chimed softly. Someone was coming up. It must be Miss Lane, Alfred thought. She was the only other person besides Alfred and Bruce to have a key to the elevator door.
The door slid open, revealing a dark-haired young woman. It wasn't Lois.
"My goodness!" Alfred exclaimed with recognition. "Miss Zatanna! What a delight!"
"Alfred!" she replied, jumping up to give him a big hug.
Hearing the girl's name, Bruce actually turned around, very surprised. There were only a few things in the world that could have broken him out of his statue-like stance at the window, and this was one of them.
Zatanna was a very remarkable girl. She was seventeen years old, with long, shadow-black hair. She was dressed in all black, with a tight leather jacket. She tended to lean at a slight angle when she stood—like a model—which, when coupled with her usually-tight clothing, tended to show off the curves of her body. She knew it, but didn't care. Her family had a background in stage show business, and she didn't have much in the way of physical shame.
"Bruce?" she called gently, peering through the dark room at his silhouette. He didn't answer. She walked across the room, stopping about a foot in front of him. He was looking her in the eyes, but still not saying a word. She looked back at him curiously, but knew him well enough to realize what he was doing. She put her arms around his neck and held him, leaning her head caringly on his shoulder. Slowly, he shut his eyes and relaxed slightly.
Zatanna leaned back, putting her hand gently on the side of his cheek. They both knew that he couldn't bring himself to speak right now, for fear of not being able to hold back tears.
"Sorry to just pop in on you like this. I'll go now."
She pulled away, and took a step backwards.
Bruce clenched his jaw and managed to get out a few words. "Zanna, I—"
"I know, Bruce," she said with a compassionate smile. "It's okay. I'll be in town for a few more days; we can catch up later."
With that, she walked back into the elevator, giving a farewell nod to Alfred along the way.
Alfred smiled. Perhaps Zatanna's presence could help alleviate Bruce's mental state. Bruce turned back to the window. Then again, perhaps not.
Halfway across the city, a dark figure sat crouched on the edge of a tower. Perched on the edge as he was, he resembled a rooftop gargoyle. His body was coated entirely in a smooth, synthetic black material. On his head was a cowl. Two fins jutted upwards from the sides of the cowl, like the ears of a predator. His eyes were hidden behind two glowing white lenses, permanently fixed into a frighteningly piercing gaze.
He sat in wait. Just a few more seconds now... He reached to a line of silver compartments along his waist, and pulled a small metal box from it, its magnetic attachment releasing with his touch. Pressing the red button on the box, he lifted his head. High up in the darkened clouds, a cone of light appeared. A huge boom echoed from it, but no one noticed. In this storm, it sounded like another crack of thunder.
A speaker in the dark man's cowl crackled to life, and another man's voice could be heard.
"Did you find him?" the voice asked. It sounded like an elderly man who'd been punched in the throat a few too many times in his youth.
"Yeah," the black-suited man responded. "I see him right now."
The suit's built-in electronic visor zoomed in on Wayne Tower. Through red-tinted vision, Bruce Wayne was clearly visible.
"Good. Keep an eye on him."
"What about the others? Kent, Prince, and Allen?"
"They might try to get in your way. Don't let them."
"Right. And who's this 'Zatanna'?"
"...avoid her."
The metal box beeped a warning.
"The boom tube is about to collapse," the suited man said.
"Alright. Shut it off, and finish your mission."
"Yes, sir."
He pressed the red button again, and the cone of light shrunk to a single point before disappearing. He stood up. The entire suit was once piece, streamlined and sleek. The rainwater ran down the shiny fabric without penetrating it. Behind the cowl, the man didn't even need to blink.
He raised his arms. From seemingly nowhere, two sleek wings unfolded out of the suit's back. They were four feet long each, black on the back, and bright red on the inside.
He crouched and jumped off the roof, slipping downwards headfirst through the air, toward the streets. Tilting back, he let his wings catch the air as he glided upwards again. When he reached the peak of his upward glide, he threw his wings back into the air, letting them trail behind him as he dropped out of the sky and toward another rooftop.
As Bruce stared out of the window, a flash of lightning illuminated the sky behind the winged man. Bruce's eyes went wide with shock as he saw it for a mere split-second: the shape of a flying bat.
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