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Chapter Text

WARNING:

First and foremost, this is a canon divergent fic. I have read the JJK manga and watched the anime but have NEVER watched the batman films or even read the comics. Correction (11/11/2023): I just remembered watching Nolan's Dark Knight trilogy but that was a long time ago and it was dubbed in my own language so sketchy accuracy, I was also very young at that time so I may have remembered things wrongly. What I strongly remember is the vibes. The feeling that I got watching those shows. I thought Batman was cool as fuck and I felt like it awakened something in me. I rewatched some clips and hooo boy, Bruce's charisma was off the charts or maybe I just like unhinged billionaire playboys (*cough*Tony Stark* cough). 

I just recently watched The Batman (2022) and Battinson is creeping on my heart. Hear me out, Bale meatriders, I am not going to completely change this fic's batman to Robert's portrayal. His Batman feels young since this Batman is just 2 years into his vigilante work. I need my Batman to be older, more seasoned especially since he's already got the batfam assembled. Robert's Bruce is obviously not suited for that. So, I'm making an executive decision. This fic's portrayal of Bruce is going to be mostly Bale's charisma (read: beauty) sprinkled with Affleck's experience with a dash of Robert's emo.

In simple terms, Bruce is going to be a chimera. This fic's Batman is a motherfucking monster. Dears, you can call me Victor Frankenstein since I'm going to be cutting up all Batman portrayals that I appreciated, taking what I liked from each actors' acting then leaving the rest behind.

I read a lot of cross overs with batfam characters like Dark Matter and some other fics I can't name off the top of my head. I will probably not get their tone right, character wise, they would have imperfect tones. Which means they can be OOC. Sorry guys, I am writing fanfiction because it makes me happy. I will understand if you have an opinion regarding the characters' behavior/attitude/personality but I won't accept hate. If you can suggest any fanfic, film or show, no comics (not too long please, I prefer fanfics as well) that I can watch to at least do the bat characters justice then please suggest. Helpful comments are welcome, unhelpful criticisms and hate are not welcome.

Please bear in mind, what I've said in my beginning notes, regarding what media I consumed before dreaming of this fic AHHHAHAHAHA. You might be shocked of the direction this fic takes. Don't say I didn't warn you. Also, if you've read my other fics before, you know the drill regarding my male leads *evil cackle*. 

Bruce Wayne -  February 19, 1979 = 6’2

Toji Zenin - December 31, 1981 = 6’10

Chapter Text

“Hey old man! Help me carry these bags.” Megumi wobbled on their front door, carrying several bags of groceries. One of said bags is now in danger of sliding off his arm and onto the floor. The sound of horse racing continued playing, the house they’re renting does not have soundproof walls.

“Oi! Stop pretending to be deaf!” The young boy shouted, teeth now gnashing in annoyance. The noise continued, the sound even became louder. His deadbeat father apparently raised the volume of their television, still focused on that shitty racing show.

As Megumi prepared to pound the door (or sic his dogs to bite his father), he finally heard footsteps. Megumi sighed in relief and then glared at the closed door. This exact scenario had been going on for years already. As soon as Megumi could be trusted to walk to the store on his own, his father had relinquished the responsibility of grocery shopping to him. The old man didn’t even have the decency to accompany him. Opening the door and helping him with groceries is the least of what the old man can do but somehow, his father helps in the shittiest way possible.

Megumi pondered on his father’s overall douchey behavior, the door opened and he soon saw the source of his daily vexations. A face similar to his own looked down on him. No matter how many times he’s seen the man (nevermind that he lives with said man), Megumi still failed to cease his astonishment at the old man’s appearance. 

Toji Zenin is the tallest person he’s ever seen in his life, this observation is not particularly useful since Megumi is only eight years old and he’s never really met that many people. Still, by the looks of the people that see his father, he’d guess that they’d never met someone as tall. Or maybe, they just like his father’s looks? He doesn’t understand why women stare at his father with shiny eyes or why little girls like to give him snacks. Girls have cooties. Megumi refuses to remember his teacher’s reaction when the woman first met his father at a Parents and Teachers Conference.

As Megumi stared towards his father’s face while thinking, he failed to notice the bags of groceries now sliding off his arms. Thankfully, his father grabbed them before they fell on the dusty floor. God knows when was the last time these floors were cleaned.

The young boy shook his head and focused on the present, he was the only one left on the doorway. His father had opened the door, took the grocery bags from him then left him there. The man did not close the door but Megumi still scowled in annoyance.

The young boy was unaware that no matter how he tried to look angry or intimidating, he only looked like a grumpy bedraggled kitten. One that was woken from his cozy nap by his owner’s teasing boops.

Megumi went into the apartment and locked the door behind him. He saw his father now lounging on the couch, his body making the large seating area seem small . He purposely walked in front of the television and slowed his pace, blocking the old man from watching his favorite show. 

The old man simply threw a pillow towards him. Megumi did not even bat an eye and just continued his snail’s pace. Unfortunately (or fortunate depending whose side you’re on), no matter how slowly he walked, he still managed to walk past their huge television set. Megumi shook his head in regret and vowed to find another way to get back at his father.

Megumi does not know his father’s age, the old man did not volunteer said information and Megumi could not be bothered to ask. He does know his father’s birthday, but not birth year. For a young boy like him, his father is simply old. He doesn’t understand why women in the train station giggle when they see his father. What’s so amusing with the old man anyway? The young boy simply chalked it up to women being women .

He reached the kitchen and sure enough, saw the heaps of bags on the countertop. His father could barely be trusted to open the door and carry bags. How can that useless adult bother arranging their groceries?

***

Megumi trudged along the narrow streets leading to their apartment building. This was his first year of being the one in charge of shopping, as his father put it. Beside him were his two dogs (puppies), demon dog white and black. He summoned them earlier since he was so bored walking alone. The two summons were playing around him, chasing each other and using Megumi as a barrier to make their game of tag more exciting.

He can only summon them for a short time each day. His technique was not practiced enough that he could keep them with him for a long time. He would love to have dogs to accompany him at home, especially since his old man disappears periodically.

Demon dog white was apparently over excited and bit demon dog black’s tail. The black summon whined and pursued the other one, seeking revenge for his poor tail. Megumi was just about to summon them back into his shadows when he noticed a group of men laughing and smoking right in the intersection before he reached his building. 

The intersection can barely be called as such, it was simply the point where narrow streets meet. The group of middle aged men were sitting on wooden crates. Some of them were balding, the rest were gray-haired.

He ended the summon for his two dogs. He has already reached his limit for the day. Going beyond his usual summoning time exhausts him. The two summons were reluctant, it was obvious that they still wanted to play. Megumi still sent them back, he did not want to be too tired once he reached his building. He still has to walk upstairs up to the third floor. 

He had already passed the group of laughing men when one of them noticed him. “Boy, show me some of that stuff you’re holding! HAHAHAHA, maybe you have food there. Ah, my buddies and I are kind of hungry.”

The others within the group laughed and teased the man for preying on young boys. However, none of them stopped him and only laughed harder when their friend ambled towards him. The balding old man was obviously drunk, it was only then that Megumi noticed that the group of men weren’t only smoking. There were bottles of alcoholic drinks on their feet, a lot of said bottles were empty but there were still unopened ones.

Megumi did not dare to look back towards the group and walked faster. Their apartment building was not far from the intersection. The group of men were still snickering and hooting behind him while he could still hear drunken footsteps following him. 

Sweat dripped down Megumi’s back, soaking his light blue shirt. His heart was beating fast and his palms were clammy. He can almost hear his blood rushing through his veins and then he was running.

The footsteps also accelerated, apparently the bald guy’s drunkenness did not affect his running speed. Megumi ran faster, his legs were screaming at him for the sudden exercise. Muscles burning in exhaustion. 

Megumi was unable to resist the temptation and he looked back, almost stumbling when he saw the depraved appearance of the man running after him. The man’s dress shirt was soaked in sweat but what scared Megumi the most was his eyes. The man looked at him like he was a piece of delicious steak. He then remembered some mothers at the wet market, asking the butcher if the beef was from a young cow. A calf’s meat is tender, that woman answered when Megumi asked why she preferred meat from the young cows.

Megumi’s eyes burned at the sides, one of the tell tale signs of incoming tears. Megumi forced himself to stop looking behind him and focus on running. As he was about to turn back and look in the front, he bumped into something hard and felt his nose ache with so much pain.

Megumi’s eyes blurred from the pain but he forced himself to look up and see why he bumped into a wall. His eyes widened when he saw a very familiar green. It was the same green he sees whenever he looks into the mirror.

Megumi slumped in relief and then everything turned black.

***

Megumi never saw those men again. His father didn’t mention what happened to them or if they were sent to the police. Megumi did not ask, he simply wanted to forget what happened. Still, because of it, his father warned him about using his shikigami without purpose. His father told him that he was an idiot and that he left himself open for attack.

The old man even started training Megumi in self-defense at the creepy woods a bit farther from their building. The training was torture. He was only six! The old man said that his training ends when he finally lands a blow on him. Megumi is far from that goal.

He’s tried everything. From having his dogs try to bite his father (the old man did not say that they’re not allowed to attack) to using the techniques his father taught him. Megumi wonders if his entire summer vacation would be spent in misery.

Megumi's now eight and he's no nearer to his goal than when he first started.

***

Their room was transferred from the third floor to the ground floor. Now, he doesn’t have to walk up the stairs carrying several bags of groceries. Megumi doesn’t know how the old man managed to convince the former tenants to exchange units with them. He’s heard one of his classmates talk about how awful it is to have an apartment at ground level. Apparently, all the noises on the rooms above theirs carries over, people walking up the stairs are inconsiderate. There were a whole lot of issues. 

Thankfully, their neighbors were considerate, Megumi did not notice any noises or whatever coming from the room above and beside theirs. Even those who use the stairs (the stairwell was right beside their room) were very careful when walking. He has never heard any annoying noises (except his father’s racings shows).

His father said that summoning the dogs in the apartment is not allowed. Megumi pretends to ignore the dog bowls and dog beds that his father has accidentally found in the dumpster. 

Chapter Text

Damian walked the halls of Wayne manor, observing the general layout of the place and taking mental notes of the exits and entrances (he also took note of the windows large enough for a human to sneak through).

The young boy’s stature seemed even smaller when seen in comparison to the manor’s towering ceiling and gigantic pillars. The manor’s air conditioning and temperature control were sublime but somehow, Damian still felt cold.

He met his father two weeks ago. The man wasn’t what he expected from a billionaire, crime fighting vigilante. Alfred told him that his father’s other wards also live in the manor but they were currently on an overseas vacation.

It was a very reasonable explanation. It is summer after all, it would be normal for the wards of a billionaire to have a vacation abroad. Unfortunately (for his father and his logical reasons), Damian is not an idiot. It was obvious that the inhabitants of the house left to give him and his father’s space.

Space for what? He doesn’t know. His father is never home anyway.

***

Megumi made sure to arrange all of his stuff and double checked his table and the storage underneath it for some of his school items. He doesn’t want to accidentally leave his notebooks or books at school. What if he needs them for his home works?

***

After cleaning the table and putting away the washed dishes, Megumi approached his father who was lounging on the sofa. He looked at the tiny space left in the couch but still chose to sit there. 

His old man just looked at him for a while but continued watching the show playing on the TV. It was about racing again, but this time, it was people racing against each other to complete tasks, the amazing race or something.

Megumi watched the show absent mindedly, his mind still trying to solve a dilemma. It was already 9 PM. His father glanced at him again, probably wondering why his prodigal son (his father’s words, not his) chose to sit with him when most of the time, Megumi would immediately go to his room after dinner. Megumi has his own TV in his bedroom, he also has a computer.

Megumi heard some older women talk to his father before, those oldies had the guts to tell his father to stop spoiling him. He does everything around this house (shopping, cleaning after dinner, then vacuuming the floors). How can he be spoiled?

Megumi failed to mention that his father did not force him to do the shopping. Megumi likes to shop since he can choose the nicer products. His father can’t cook so they order food from that tiny restaurant that only cooks the best ingredients. His father also bought Megumi the vacuum since the boy was always complaining about how his arms are getting tired from sweeping. As for the overall cleaning in their house, an old woman does that. Clothes are also sent to the shop down the street for washing. 

The young boy also has the latest gadgets, a new phone, ipad and even a computer. Two of the three bedrooms in the house are occupied by him. The biggest room is his father’s. Megumi uses the second biggest as his bedroom, the other one was filled with his childhood toys. The older ladies in the community asked his father if they were willing to donate some of said toys to charity. Megumi threw the biggest fit ever, those were his toys. Why should he give them to others? His father didn’t argue with him about it and just closed the door on the old ladies’ stunned faces.

Come to think of it, maybe this is the reason why those old fogies called him spoiled? Megumi shook his head and stopped thinking about those judgmental old folks, how can they understand what toy collections are or that all of his toys are important. He still plays with them (some of Megumi’s dust covered toys beg to disagree).

Megumi pondered back on his problem. Eyes on the television but mind wandering elsewhere. Toji glanced at him again but soon re-focused on his show.

“Dad,” Megumi started, tapping his father on the knee. His father hummed in response but continued watching the show. Megumi scrunched his nose, annoyed that the old man was not properly listening to him. Still, he behaved. He had something to ask his father.

“Daaaaddddd,” Megumi pinched his father’s knee. His old man finally stopped looking at the TV and turned to look at him. Megumi straightened his back and gave a paper to his father. The man unfolded the paper.

Green eyes widened and Megumi can see veins popping from his father’s clenched hands. Still, Megumi persevered. This is for his future.

“When do you need these items?” His father asked, raising an eyebrow while reading through the list. 

Megumi cleared his throat but kept his eyes low, staring at his knees. “Tomorrow.”

Toji glanced at the clock then closed his eyes in resignation. Maybe, selling this kid to the Zenin clan wasn’t such a bad idea.

Chapter Text

Megumi went into their apartment, he closed the door behind him then removed his shoes, putting it in the cabinet reserved for footwear. The young boy walked into the living room and turned on the lights.

The house is quiet, his father is probably out on one of his gigs or whatever it is his old man does to make money. He went into his room to drop his school bag before going back to the living room to watch TV.

He did have a TV in his room but the one here is bigger. He changed channels until he found one of his favorite animes. He was about to find a better position for lounging on the couch when his stomach grumbled.

Socked feet walked towards the kitchen. Megumi opened the fridge and rummaged until he found a jar of unopened chocolate spread. The boy opened the cupboard and grabbed a pack of sliced bread.

The sound of plastic crinkling filled the kitchen. Megumi chose the prettiest slices before closing the package again and putting it back in the cupboard. He then used a bread knife to spread the melted chocolate on his bread. 

Putting the two slices together, he took a bite and groaned at the rich and sweet taste of his favorite brand of spread. Sure, it was thrice as expensive as the local brands but it tasted better so it’s worth it.

He returned the jar to the fridge then sauntered back to the living room, snack now in hand.

***

Megumi remembered watching the anime up to the part when the green-haired main character was shouting at his classmate during their school competition. He probably fell asleep after that. He woke up back in his bed, haphazardly covered in his blanket. He looked at the digital clock hanging in his room and saw that the time was 2:17 AM. Megumi hugged his wolf stuffed animal and nuzzled his face into its soft fur. A tiny smile graced the young boy’s face. 

His father is home.

***

A young, pale-faced youth woke up with a gasp. The sound of harsh, labored breathing filled his ears. It took him a moment to realize it was him who was making the noise. His heart is pounding harshly, almost like it wants to escape from his chest. The back of his sleep shirt is drenched in sweat.

He crushed his fists on the soft sheets he was laying on, trying to ground himself. The room is dark, the only source of light is the soft moonlight coming from the large windows. Damian sat up on the bed, leaning on a pillow and the headboard behind him. He doesn’t even remember what he dreamt about, only that it terrified him. He ran facts on his head. Trying to focus on something else. 

‘He’s Damian Wayne. He’s 10 years of age. His mother abandoned him. He just met his father 2 weeks ago. He’s currently at Wayne Manor and- ’. His thoughts cut off.

He’s never been more alone.

***

Megumi woke up to the sounds of guns. He grabbed one of his pillows and covered his head with it. The noise is still there, grating his patience.

“Oi old man! Turn down the TV!” He scowled at the ceiling of his bedroom, staring at the glow in the dark stickers pasted there (he had to nag his father before the man bought some for him, he had to nag some more just to force the old man to paste it on the ceiling). His father did not respond but the noise did become less loud.

Megumi huffed in annoyance. He wanted to wake up late today and lounge around in bed but one of his father’s shitty shows really ruined his plans. He grabbed his phone by the nightstand and played some mobile games for a while.

***

Megumi had just finished his last slice of pizza when he heard knocking on the door. His father left for a while to buy some of Megumi’s favorite ice cream for dessert. The old man did not want to go but Megumi whined in his ear until he was forced to leave.

“Who’s there?” Megumi walked towards the door but didn’t open it immediately. He wasn’t an idiot.

There was no response to his question. The knocking continued. Megumi went to his room and opened the window’s curtains. There was no one outside his window. He sneaked out of their apartment while summoning demon dogs, white and black.

The two puppies stayed quiet, sensing their master’s unease. He sent them a mental nudge to circle back to the front of the apartment building and see who’s knocking. Meanwhile, he climbed the wall behind the apartment building.

His father would laugh at him if he got kidnapped. That old man would also increase his training difficulty to hell level. Megumi did not want to suffer such torture.

However, before he could proceed with his plan, his summons sent him a mental image. There was no one at the door of their apartment.

***

Damian was busy typing on his personal computer. Alfred already took care of the details for his new school. He is now a bona fide 5th grade student at Gotham Elementary School. Damian sighed at the idea of it.

Talia had never sent him to a school. She did not need to. He had tutors for everything he needed to learn. Which means, less math, more martial arts. Thankfully, he was smart enough to understand most materials (academic or otherwise) on his own. 

The young boy scowled at the bright homepage of his new school’s website. The bold, jolly characters plastered on the webpage was a stark contrast to the youth’s pessimistic sneer.

A gust of cold wind made him shiver. Damian did not bother to exit the website, he stood up from the armchair and headed to the balcony to close the balcony doors. The heavy draperies were now fluttering wildly due to the strong winds. 

The lights on the boy’s room were off, the bedroom was shrouded in darkness. Only his laptop served as the light source within the room. On the screen of the device, Gotham Elementary’s website proudly showcased itself. A picture of two boys laughing together while holding their school IDs. Learn together with friends!

***

An ordinary looking car with understated elegance traveled along the highway. The partition between the driver’s seat and the backseat was raised. Soft music played from the car’s top notch sound system. 

Bruce Wayne sat in the backseat, holding a tablet and reading some company reports. His brows furrowed when he noticed a slight discrepancy in the marketing’s data. He was interrupted from his musings by a bright flash. He instinctively closed his eyes. Loud thunderclap soon followed. 

Bruce opened his eyes and stared out of the car window. The sky of Gotham City was dark most of the time, the city barely has sunny days. Still, this particular storm seemed darker than usual. Heavy, black clouds covered the skies. Lightning flashed like a giant snake within the cloud’s depths. 

The billionaire took a deep breath and locked his tablet computer, eyes focused on the city’s dark sky. Storms are nothing unusual in Gotham but this one seemed… different. He had been Batman for years, Bruce’s intuition is rarely mistaken. 

He closed his eyes and sighed. He wouldn’t mind being wrong this time.

Chapter Text

Toji Zenin is a simple man. He likes savory foods. He dislikes sweets. He likes watching horse racing. He dislikes corny reality shows. He likes silent nights and cold evenings. He dislikes the humidity of summer or the buzzing of insects in the spring. He likes money and how easily he earns it through killing. He dislikes the banality of signing a check after his kills are confirmed.

Toji Zenin is a simple man. But simple does not mean easy. He has fucked more women (and men) than he can count and killed more than he can remember. He has never cared for intimacy or romance. He does not need to care for such things. He has never felt love for any being and that’s perfectly fine with him.

Imagine his reaction when a spiky haired woman handed him a bundle wrapped in soft cotton blankets. The woman claims that the child is his. He does not remember fucking the woman (he never remembers) and doubts his paternity of said child. 

She argued with him. Spouted some shit about illnesses and dying soon. Cried about how she doesn’t want to leave her child with him but she has no other choice. She is an orphan and does not have any other relatives, he is her only option. Then she left. Ran away crying, she didn’t even turn back for a last glance. Probably didn’t trust herself not to take back the child if she did.

Toji wanted to leave the infant in the door of some orphanage. It’s not like he signed up for this shit. He never wanted to be a father, nor did he want to take care of a child, more so, an infant. 

Toji Zenin, the infamous Sorcerer Killer, the boogeyman under the bed, the feared slayer of shamans. Defeated by a child, not even a year old. Oh, the irony.

Little did he know that what he considers a headache now would turn out to be his life’s greatest blessing. Like, literally. 

***

Megumi leaned against the wall, baffled by his summon’s discovery. How could there be no one outside their apartment? There was only a few seconds between the knocking and him escaping while asking demon dogs to scout their front door. It’s virtually impossible for the perpetrator to disappear during that period.

He asked the two demon dogs to scout the whole vicinity of the apartment building and was even more shocked to find out that there were no signs of anyone nearby. Something niggled at the back of Megumi’s mind.

Against his better judgment, Megumi went back to the apartment and met with his summons. Demon dog white nudged at him playfully while black walked beside him and observed their surroundings.

Megumi walked towards the door and tried to sense any form of cursed energy remnants that could linger after the knockings. There was nothing unusual. Whoever knocked was human or at least not a curse.

Just as he was about to enter the apartment, he felt something hit his feet. It was a beat up wooden toy animal which looks like a bat, probably left by some of the children living in the building while they were playing on the ground floor.

He ignored the toy and went into the apartment, demon dogs white and black scouted the entire area for a cursed signature or signs of an intruder. There was none. Megumi sighed in relief and ended their summoning. He did not want to drain his cursed energy more than he had to.

The young boy sat down on the couch and breathed a sigh of relief. He hugged a throw pillow and laid down comfortably. He felt his eyes grow heavier and planned to take a nap when his gut instinct practically screamed at him.

Megumi rolled over the couch and barely managed to avoid a blast of cursed energy. The couch burst in flames behind him. He did not even get the chance to form a hand seal and manifest a summon, the last thing he saw was a masked man throwing a bunch of wooden beads towards him. Then everything turned black.

***

Toji put down the tubs of ice cream in front of the cashier. The teenager gave him a bored glance and slipped her phone into a pocket. She scanned the items and held out an expectant hand for the payment. He usually goes to this store to buy daily items, employees are already used to him always paying in cash.

The cashier gasped in shock when the huge man ran out of the store without even saying a word, tubs of ice cream forgotten on the counter. 

“Hey! Why couldn’t you at least put these back in the fridge!” The youth scowled in annoyance and walked to the back of the store to put back the ice creams in the freezer. 

The cover of a rocky road ice cream tub glistened with condensation. The words “ out of this world flavor” printed in bold letters.

***

He reached their apartment in record time. The door was open and the house was dark. The man’s ears were superior to everything else in this world and so he could hear everything . But he chose to block all noises from his hearing. Except for one. His child’s heartbeat.

For the first time in eight years, Toji Zenin unblocked his hearing. The man stood in their ruined living room. His eyes, still better than everything else in this world, saw signs of an ambush. He ignored all of it. He went into a room, dark except for a sliver of moonlight that managed to slip from a closed curtain. The stickers on the ceiling glowed in the dark.

The man refused to glance at them. Toji Zenin sat on the chair in the room, ignoring how soft said chair is. His child complained about how comfort is important, Toji as usual had no room to argue. 

Toji prided himself for his senses. They were never mistaken. He was never mistaken, something he had always been grateful for. All his senses were telling him one thing. Megumi Zenin did not exist in this world.

He wouldn’t mind being wrong this time.

***

Megumi woke up due to the cold. It was invasive, bone deep, his thin clothing meant for spring weather did not stand a chance against the cold temperature. Then the smell hit his senses, piss, garbage and liquor all combined in an unholy trifecta of the most disgusting thing he has ever smelt in his entire life.

The young boy sat up, eyes wandering around the small alley he found himself in. A huge garbage container sat in one corner of the dirty alley, it was unable to close due to the overwhelming amount of garbage it contained.

Megumi stood up with shaky legs, he withdrew his arms into his t-shirt. He did not care that he looked stupid, he did not want to die due to hypothermia. He took a last look in the unfamiliar alley and then left an inconspicuous sign in the dirty walls. 

His father taught him several things on how to survive in a strange city, if he got lost or something (kidnapped). They also had codes and symbols (with different meanings) just in case they got separated. Megumi looked at the symbol he left to make sure of its meaning.

Alive. Unharmed. Look. Shelter.

Chapter Text

Bruce Wayne is a rational, logical man. He (usually) does not allow emotions to cloud his judgment. The number of people who can evoke extreme emotions from him are very few, so few that they can be counted with one hand. 

Bruce Wayne is also an intelligent man, a man who is born with a golden spoon in his mouth and platinum shovel in his hand. He did inherit his parent’s riches but they could have never imagined the level he would develop Wayne Enterprises into. Outsiders are in awe of his skills but Bruce never considered Wayne Enterprises as his greatest achievement. 

Bruce Wayne is a man meant for the spotlight. A key figure in this fast paced modern world. No one could have ever guessed that this eccentric billionaire is the same person as Gotham’s caped crusader. Bruce Wayne has dominated the business world. But Batman… is nothing like him.

Batman is Gotham’s reckoning. The city’s shadows turned human.

***

“Newbie, here’s your direct lead, Sergeant Akitoshi.” Haruto gave a polite greeting and bowed to his appointed team leader. The man didn’t even spare Haruto a glance, eyes focused on the screen of his computer. Fingers now a blur on the keyboard with how fast he’s typing. 

The inspector who introduced Haruto gave him a wink in encouragement before he left. Haruto was now standing awkwardly in front of his new leader’s workstation, waiting for the man to acknowledge his existence. 

Fortunately, he did not wait too long. Sergeant Akitoshi had stopped typing and was now staring at Haruto. Haruto resisted the urge to look away or flinch. He held the gaze of his new leader. The man was about to speak when another officer ran towards them, face red, hands shaking.

Sergeant Akitoshi didn’t even reprimand the officer for losing his cool, the sergeant’s eyes immediately focused on the file folder the officer was holding. The stern sergeant grabbed the file and opened it. His dark eyes widened in alarm at the file’s contents.

***

Blood dripped down the walls of the cult’s headquarters, random limbs were strewn around the floor. The white tiles now turned red from the sheer amount of blood from dead bodies. The entire place is empty except for the corpses of the cult’s members.

It has been a few minutes since Akitoshi entered the facility but the seasoned policeman still can’t help but flinch at the smell of blood that permeated the whole area. The sergeant walked towards a group of forensic specialists who were busy taking pictures of the crime scene. He wants to know their preliminary thoughts regarding what happened in this place.

He was already deep in conversation with two of their senior forensic experts when one of their new interns came up to him, Haruto if he is not mistaken. It was a pity that the newbie didn’t even get a chance to adjust to police work before their team was assigned to such a gruesome case.

“Sir, I think you’d like to see this.” Haruto’s eyes were wide, his pupils now tiny pinpricks, beads of sweat dripped down the intern’s pale face. The sergeant’s scalp tightened. What did the others discover? Is there anything that could make this situation worse?

“Lead the way.”

Haruto nodded in acquiescence, before the intern immediately turned around and walked. Akitoshi followed him through several hallways, they went past packets of policemen scattered around the entire area. 

They were already walking for a few minutes, the path was sloping downwards but there were no stairs. It seemed like this place had an underground area. Akitoshi was about to ask Haruto questions but his words froze in his throat.

In front of him, is a set of huge double doors. Its length spanned from the floor to the ceiling. With its width, several people could walk through it at the same time.

“Sir, we found a dead end and didn’t think much of it. Thankfully, Haruto here noticed that the tiles ended abruptly in this area but the pattern is not complete. All the other hallways with dead ends had complete tile patterns.” One of Akitoshi’s older men explained while the others were busy trying to pry the locks of the doors open.

“So we broke down the wall and discovered this sloping hallway.” The man continued before joining his other colleagues in prying the door locks off.

Haruto’s face reddened in embarrassment. It seemed like the intern was not used to being praised. Akitoshi gave him an approving nod, Haruto gave a sound too similar to a squeak. Akitoshi’s lips twitched in an almost smile.

“It’s open, sir.” 

Akitoshi wanted to give the intern a compliment but was interrupted by Eiji, another one of his men. This one was younger than the others but still a bit older than Haruto.

“Proceed with the usual protocol. Haruto, stay at the back. Souta, you go first.” The doors opened with a creak, due to its size, two men were needed to push it fully open. With a final protest from the doors’ hinges, the door was now completely open.

As soon as it opened, the scent of rust (blood) assaulted Akitoshi’s nose. The lights were off within the confines of the door, Akitoshi didn’t even have to say something, one of his men turned on a flashlight. The rest of his officers followed.

Someone gasped behind him, their newbie is really not trained enough to handle scenes like this. The double doors opened to a large auditorium which seemed to be used as a church by the cult members. 

There were pews which were obviously used during masses, images and statues of the cult’s god were spread all around the church’s walls. A strange being with four eyes and inhuman features. Bodies of the dead cult members were piled together in messy groups. The number of corpses in this room outnumbered the rest of the bodies found in other parts of this cult’s headquarters. It seems like this church was the epicenter of the tragedy.

Some of Akitoshi’s men covered their noses, the more veteran members flinched but managed to compose themselves. Souta and another veteran member walked further into the room, trying to find more details from the scene.

Akitoshi lingered at the room’s outskirts, he took out his police radio to report what they discovered to the others but was interrupted by one of his men shouting for his attention.

“Sergeant! Look at this!” He put his radio back into his pocket and ran to the direction of Ren’s shout. All of his men were now standing in the church’s altar, a wide platform with a huge statue of the cult’s god in the middle. 

Souta nudged the other officers away to make way for Akitoshi, his flashlight pointed to the blank wall behind the statue. Akitoshi didn’t even have to walk closer to see what his men were alarmed by.

Decapitated heads were smashed to a paste right by the statue’s feet, brain matter and blood combined to form an atrocious brown paste that leached into the statue’s bare feet. He also noticed limbs and organs within the pile. Hearts and lungs, kidneys and even some penises. 

However, this wasn’t what alarmed Akitoshi, a seasoned sergeant in the homicide and violent crimes division. “Contact the inspector, our team needs back-up.” 

None of his men moved, still shocked by the sheer violence of the smashed heads they discovered. “Souta, do it.”

His team snapped out of their reverie, instantly snapping into action. Some took pictures of the room while the others were busy with their own tasks. Akitoshi stayed at the altar, the veteran officer did not even glance at the mess of limbs and organs in front of him. His eyes were glued to the words written in the wall a few feet behind the statue. Rivulets of blood flowed down the walls, barely making the words readable.

I take in blood what you stole from me.

Chapter Text

“Master Bruce, do you have time? I wish to speak to you about Damian.” Bruce stopped on his tracks, turning his body to stare at Alfred. The older man was impeccably dressed as usual, a kind smile plastered on his weathered face.

“What is it?” Bruce replied distractedly, eyes focused on the numbers running on the screen of his tablet computer. The older man sighed, already used to his master’s attitude, eyes fond as he looked at his grown charge.

“Sir, young master Damian. He’s… Forgive me for my bluntness. He’s been neglected, Master Bruce. By his former carers. And now, by you.” Bruce eyebrows furrowed at Alfred’s words. He opened his mouth to explain, he wasn’t purposefully neglecting Damian.

Wayne Enterprise had been on the forefront of a new business merger. The details need to be ironed out, Bruce’s employees are competent but they are employees. Deals like this one need his personal attention. Gotham hasn’t been peaceful either, Joker recently escaped from Arkham and Riddler is on the loose as well. Not to mention that Two-

A firm hand grasped Bruce’s shoulder. Alfred squeezed Bruce’s shoulder, an encouraging smile graced the face of the older man.

“Master Bruce, I understand that you have plenty of responsibilities as chairman of Wayne Enterprises and as… Batman. I simply hope you don’t forget that behind the mask of America’s richest tech tycoon and this city’s hero, you are Bruce Wayne. And as Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne is your primary responsibility.”

“Damian is fine, Alfred. You don’t have to worry about him. I’ll talk to him once all these are over. The company is secondary but the city needs help, those streets won’t clean themselves of criminals. You’ve seen what happens on those streets Alfred, Gotham needs me.” Bruce removed Alfred’s hand from his shoulder, giving the man a pat on the hand before continuing to walk towards his home office.

Alfred shook his head, staring at his master’s back. Time flies, the young man he took care of now has a young man of his own. Alfred understands his master’s convictions but he does not agree with how Bruce devotes too much of his attention and considerable efforts on it. Family should come before anything.

“And what about Damian, sir. He needs you as well. Now, more than ever.” whispered Alfred, heart clenching at the memory of his young master’s condition when he first arrived at Wayne Manor. Alas, he is only a butler at the end of the day. He can’t interfere too much with his master’s affairs. Alfred heads back to the kitchen, it’s almost noon and both his charges (the older, stubborn one and younger, also stubborn one) need sustenance. 

Behind one of the huge pillars lining the wide hallway, a pair of socked, small feet protruded. 

***

“You called for me.” James Gordon turned around at the sound of Batman’s deep, rough voice. The commissioner didn’t even flinch at the caped hero’s entrance, too used to the Bat’s antics. 

“Dead bodies were found at Crime Alley.” Batman didn’t look too impressed with his statement. Jim sighed, hand reaching up to massage his aching head. His migraine bases its intensity on his stress levels. Imagine the pain he’s in now.

“Your department can’t handle a few dead bodies?” Batman managed to make his voice sound as unimpressed as he looked.

“You’ll know why I called you when you see the crime scene.”

***

Hours before the Japanese police found the cult’s headquarters

Toji has killed more people than he can remember. More accurately, he doesn’t bother to remember. Why should he care to remember how he killed some random corrupt politician? Oh, that bastard raped an honest farmer’s daughter? That’s sad. At least, he’s dead now.

However, if the one who paid him was the corrupt politician and the target was the farmer’s daughter. He would still accept the job. The girl would be dead, the official still thriving in his million dollar mansion. Toji is good at his job. Perhaps, too good at it.

When a strange cult approached his handler, Shiu Kong about a new target worth thirty million yen (two million dollars), Toji did not hesitate to accept the mission. As usual, Toji didn’t bother to remember the name of his employers’ association. He doesn’t give a shit whatever they call themselves. As long as the money offered is enough, Toji would kill even Buddha. 

Megumi wanted to buy a new TV set for his room. The young boy insisted that the TV just stopped working on its own but Toji could see bite marks on the television’s power cords. It seemed like his son’s silly demon dogs played around too much.

Toji still has some savings left, more than enough to buy the most expensive TV on the market. Unfortunately, his son wanted to go to Disneyland this summer vacation. Toji promised that as long as Megumi topped his class, they’d go there. Classes are not over yet and grades are not yet released but Toji has never doubted his son’s capability.

So Toji accepted the job. Unfortunately, he didn’t manage to finish it. Maybe, in another world, in another time, he would’ve. Maybe, a Toji more jaded, more bitter, more hurt than he is would finish the job. Would shoot the girl right where she stood. Right after she talked about her dreams and aspirations. Right after she wanted to go home.

Maybe another Toji would kill her. A Toji that didn’t stay with his son.  A Toji who has lost all hope. This Toji couldn’t. Not when Riko Amanai’s grateful face resembled Megumi Zenin’s  expression whenever Toji brings home his favorite ice cream. Not when Riko Amanai’s blue eyes looked green under some lights. 

He wouldn’t kill the girl. Anyway, what can that cult do to him if he didn’t finish the job? 

Toji wasn’t mistaken. That cult didn’t manage to do anything to him. More accurately, they didn’t dare take him on directly. Instead, they made his son pay the price for his arrogance. 

His world tilted, his eyesight turned colorless. He felt it. The moment Megumi Zenin stopped existing in this world. The moment they took his son from him.

The Zenin clan was shit. Those xenophobic bastards made Toji’s life hell. Molded Toji into the man he is today. Toji despised those fools, he hated them. Now, he thinks hate is too strong of a word for the Zenin imbeciles. At most, they are an annoyance.

Toji has never felt rage like this. An ire so powerful it seemed to make all the previous times he was angry into a joke. A wrath so fierce, it burned all his other emotions as fuel. 

Now, Toji knows nothing. Feels nothing. His fury had destroyed his soul. His heart turned empty. He burned so hot, he became cold. The weather was warm but Toji’s hands were shaking from the cold.

They took his son from him. His Megumi. His blessing. He would reap their souls as penance.

***

When Shiu Kong saw Toji at the entrance of his home, he shivered at the lack of emotion in the other man’s eyes. Toji Zenin’s green eyes looked like hell’s flames.

“Name.”

“What?”

“Give me the name of that cult.”

“Why would you-” Shiu Kong’s words cut off. He can barely breathe with how tight Toji was clutching his collar. The Korean man’s face turned gray, his lips now blue due to lack of oxygen.

“Name. Now.”

A few hours after Toji stormed into his home, Shiu Kong’s phone rang. He saw the number and sneered but still chose to answer. Another bastard he has to deal with due to his livelihood. 

The other party rambled on the other end of the line. Shiu Kong’s sneer slowly fell from his face, to be replaced by horror. The other party continued to talk but Shiu Kong was no longer able to listen properly. The usually unflappable man has turned speechless. His phone clattered on the floor after his fingers gave out.

“-know if this incident is related to us. Can it be traced? The police are now on the hunt for the perpetrator. The entire Time Vessel Association is dead. More than two hundred corpses in their HQ. Cult members in their homes are also getting killed. The number of bodies is increasing as we speak. Shiu Kong! You were the one who had dealings with them-” The handler ended the call, heart beating fast. 

He remembered Zenin’s appearance earlier. The man’s dead eyes and hopeless expression. Shiu Kong repressed a shiver. Now is not the time to cower. His livelihood and personal freedom is at stake. Whatever Toji Zenin did, Shiu Kong has nothing to do with it. The less he knows, the better off he’d be. Plausible deniability does exist.

Worse comes to worst, he’d go back to South Korea.

***

Years before Megumi’s birth

Toji’s cheek stings from the slap his deadbeat father gave him. The useless man has no position nor prestige within the clan, losing status as soon as Toji popped out. A thing he solely blames on the existence of his non-sorcerer son. 

It didn’t help the old man’s case that his younger brother, Naobito Zenin had sons who were sorcerers. The older brother was skipped over in the line of succession. Naobito Zenin became head of the Zenin clan. Toji’s father, the oldest child and supposed heir didn’t inherit the position hence the old man’s extreme bitterness and anger towards Toji’s mere existence.

Toji sneered at his father’s reasoning. The old man was born useless, with a pathetic amount of cursed energy, barely passing the threshold of a normal person. Was it really so difficult to fathom that he’d give birth to an even more useless son?

Toji had seen the slap coming. He could have avoided it easily. Matter of fact, he could break the old man’s hand and fracture his arm without effort. It would feel good for a few minutes. But then, consequences would come flooding.

His daily ration of food would become even more meager. If not completely taken away. A slap is unimportant. His dignity is nothing in the face of hunger.

Toji could steal from the kitchen, completely unimpeded. Those servants can’t even hope to notice him. Still, why should he?

Bearing one slap would mean he still gets his daily meals delivered to his destitute courtyard. His father is an idiot but he only has one child. The old man won’t go out of his way to starve Toji. Unless Toji did something particularly hate worthy (like breaking his father’s hand).

Toji’s room was placed in an abandoned, dingy courtyard at the back of Zenin clan's huge estate. The ugly building was surrounded by others as unappealing as it is.

As Toji was about to slide open the door of his room, a weird sound caught his attention. A strange beating sound originating just beyond the tall gates of the clan estate. 

Without a sliver of hesitation, Toji ran towards the back wall. He easily jumped through the high walls and approached the source of the strange beating sound.

The sight of the dead body before him didn’t move Toji one bit. It’s not like he has anything to do with this man’s death. The man was wearing a black cloak made from an unknown material. The black seemed to absorb all the light near it. 

The man looked to be around middle age. Probably the same age as Toji’s father. He had a hole in his stomach, intestines and other internal organs spilled over brown earth.

Toji didn’t bother with the dead body. His attention was caught by the beating heart held by the man’s hand firmly, even after death. The heart was covered in black, viscous tar. For an organ already outside the body, it still seemed to be full of vitality.

Toji knows that hearts can beat for a few moments after it’s ripped out of the body. He doesn’t understand why it happens but he's seen it, firsthand . Those hearts stopped beating after a short while. This heart seemed to beat even faster after he approached it.

In a moment of absolute stupidity and lack of fear towards death (does he have anything to lose?), Toji’s hand reached towards the tar covered heart. Bare fingers grasped the slimy organ. A malicious and sinister intent entered Toji’s consciousness.

Everything went black.

***

Toji woke up in a primeval rainforest. Surrounding him are trees the height of multi-storied buildings with trunks the width of a small house. Dense canopies of branches and leaves made the forest floor dark and cool even when the sun was at its peak.

Tiny creatures meandered on the forest floor. Critters of various species and diverse types. Toji observed the strange environment with a wide gaze. Small pockets of sunlight entered through the gaps on canopied branches, alighting the forest with a gentle glow.

A tinge of alarm went through Toji’s mind before his body instinctively moved sideways, barely missing the sharp talons of the apex predator standing before him. Its size was double that of an adult elephant. It had the head of a panther but the tail of a scorpion.

Toji was not much of a reader nor is he an expert in animals but even an uneducated fool like him knows that no such creature exists in this world. The creature crouched low, guttural growls filled the air with the aura of danger.

The small critters Toji noticed earlier disappeared in hiding, fearful of the creature before Toji. Arrogant green eyes met wrathful scarlet before two bodies collided and a resounding boom echoed in the forest.

Immovable object meets unstoppable force.

***

Megumi wandered around the strange city he found himself in, carefully observing his surroundings with the ease of someone whose been put through hell with his father’s survival torture training. The people around him looked foreign and spoke in a foreign language, Megumi is obviously not in Japan anymore.

This city’s cursed energy is different , the cloying aura of despair and hopelessness adding a sour smell to the already pungent scent of negative energy. Megumi had been walking around for a few minutes in the impoverished area but there wasn’t even the slightest sign of a cursed spirit’s existence. 

Normally, places like these are rife with lower grade curses. Poor people have more problems than they could ever hope to solve, making their communities a hotbed for curses. Megumi continued walking until he reached another street. 

Everything is in English. Signages, store names, flyers. Fortunately, Megumi’s school offered voluntary elective classes in English language. Not all Japanese elementary schools have this privilege since English is not a mandatory class before middle school in Japan.

The young boy raised an eyebrow at the dilapidated signage stating the name of the street he’d just reached. Park Row. Even someone like him, a non-native English speaker, can't help but find the name to be too basic.

He’s in an area surrounded by buildings with gritty walls and colorful graffiti, some looked run-down and abandoned, the others are inhabited and looked to be in better shape but not by much. The young boy took note of the seemingly abandoned ones, he would need to find shelter before sunset.

“Hey, what’s a tiny thing like you doing out here?” A sleazy man came out of a building and approached Megumi, one hand carrying a half-drunk bottle of beer while the other scratched his large stomach, several others followed him. Megumi instinctively took note of their numbers, nine men including their ringleader.

Megumi narrowed his eyes when he noticed a familiar bulge on the men’s pockets, seven of them were carrying firearms. The streets that were bustling with people quietened, most of the residents crossed  to the opposite side of the road, leaving Megumi alone with the armed group of men.

None of them strayed a glance in Megumi’s direction, trying to keep the gang’s attention away from them. Some female residents glanced at Megumi a few times but soon lowered their heads and didn’t do anything except walk faster.

“Boy, you should come with us. Small things like you don’t survive these streets without being devoured by bad people. My friends and I would keep you safe,” the large man laughed boisterously at his own words, amused beyond comparison. The other men praised fatty for his generosity, asking Megumi to thank their boss for being so kind. Their words were jolly but their eyes were mocking.

Megumi clenched his fists in anger, fingers ready to form a summoning gesture. However, thinking of the strange way he was transported here and the foreign environment, Megumi changed his mind. Megumi isn’t sure what’s going on with this city’s abundant amount of cursed energy but lack of cursed spirits. Summoning a shikigami right now is a bad idea.

Throughout his mental calculations, Megumi did not stop observing the gang of men surrounding him. The men continued teasing him, their leader now looming over Megumi’s smaller form, licking his chapped lips while staring at the young boy.

“I’ve had an Asian before but not as young as you. That one also wasn’t as pretty.” Fatty cackled lecherously, the rest of the men laughed along.

 “Boss, this one’s probably mute. He hasn’t made a single sound since we found him.” One of fatty’s men said while grinning, exposing his decayed yellow teeth.

“Even better then. We won’t have to cover his mouth later.” Another man replied, flashing a pointed silver canine in Megumi’s direction. 

The streets were now free of people. It seemed like this gang’s presence drove away the pedestrians. The men saw his action of looking over the streets and laughed uproariously.

“Boy, no one’s coming out to save you. You’re alone with us here.” Fatty threw away the bottle of beer he’s been holding, freeing both his hands. He reached towards Megumi, fingernails caked with dirt, fingertips yellowed by years of nicotine consumption.

Megumi smiled. His lips had cracked due to dehydration. He hasn’t drank water for a few hours, his throat felt scratchy. His voice was rough.

“No, you’re alone with me.”

Blood spilled on dirty pavement.

Chapter Text

Toji Zenin is one born to hate but this does not mean he hates often. The truth is, he hates rarely. He is a man born to hate but lives to endure. This trait of his became quite a boon while living in the Zenin compound. The place where Toji learned that blood is everything but also nothing. 

Living there, Toji realized that blood is important, but not more important than power. 

Power is power.

***

Bruce scowled upon hearing James Gordon’s words. He might dislike the Gotham Police a lot and thinks that the majority of these policemen get paid to do nothing, however, he knows Gordon. He knows how much effort the man does to keep the city as safe as possible. The man may not be that successful in his goals. But his effort does have some effects. It’s better than nothing.

“Give me the exact address. I’ll meet you there.”

***

The leaves of the trees are green and the plants look alive and very healthy. The season looks to be spring or early summer but the cold seems to say otherwise. Thankfully, Toji’s body ran hotter than normal humans and is countless times more adaptable. The air may not be freezing but that’s all that can be said to it. It’s still too cold for normal humans, especially if they are wearing the same type of clothing as Toji.

Toji walked towards the outskirts of the forest, dragging the huge body of the creature he just killed. The other beings in the forest avoided him, or more accurately, avoided the creature with him. It seems that the status of this beast is not low, its deterrence among the other creatures in the area is strong.

The young man noticed the widening of the foot path he was on. The trees are still outrageously big but not as huge as the ones he’d seen earlier. He is on the right path, slowly approaching the edge of this ancient forest.

Human noises reached Toji’s ears. Masculine voices. In 5 minutes, a group of men will soon reach Toji’s current location. Toji didn’t bother to change his course. He would need to meet people anyway, just to figure out where he is.

Isn’t it better to meet people in this forest? That way, Toji can learn more about this strange place he’d found himself transported.

And if they don’t cooperate? It doesn’t matter anyway. A primeval forest is the best location to hide dead bodies.

Toji maintained his current pace, dragging the huge carcass behind him while staying vigilant.

A few minutes later, a group of 11 men reached Toji’s view. They were tall, almost abnormally so, and all of them were well-built with bulging musculature. Most wore clothing made from animal fur and leather but a few did wear clothes made from fabric. Toji took note that none of them seemed bothered by the cold temperature despite wearing clothing not meant for it. Cold resistance?

As a matter of habit, Toji took note of the weapon the men carried. Each man had a weapon of some sort, a huge warhammer, ax or sword. 

One of the men, the second largest, saw Toji. His eyes widened like he saw something monstrous. He gestured towards his companions while speaking in a weird language. His companions reacted the same way, one of them dropping his warhammer in shock. It almost hit the foot of the man beside him, causing the latter to punch him on his shoulder.

Toji’s brows furrowed at the men’s noises. It’s not like he could understand what they’re saying. The men continued to talk loudly with each other, gesturing towards Toji and the carcass he’s carrying every now and then. Apparently, they came to a conclusion as they walked towards Toji as a group. Still talking so loudly.

“Silence.”

The gaggle of men stopped in their tracks, their conversations also petered to a stop. They looked confused. 

Great, these men don’t know Japanese. I don’t know their language. What an exciting situation! Toji thought sarcastically.

The awkward silence was broken by the rumble of Toji’s stomach. The last time he ate was hours ago. He previously got into an argument with his father then had himself transported to this place. Toji is hungry.

The largest man within the group, roughly 2.4 meters tall, carried a sack behind his back, from which the smell of cooked meat emanated. Toji glanced his way and the man shivered at the look of hunger in his eyes. Toji licked his lips and pointed to the man’s back. He used his free hand to make an eating gesture. The man’s knees buckled.

A few minutes later, Toji is still in the company of the group of men. They seemed nice enough, if a bit boorish and silly. Toji won’t complain. He does not mind stupidity, as long as it does not affect him.

One of the men, the leader by the looks of it, seemed to be smarter than his companions and handed a pack of meat jerky to Toji earlier. The packaging was some piece of oiled up large leaves. 

The group keep on glancing at the beast carcass that Toji is dragging. The group did offer to carry it for him but Toji declined. No help is freely given. Especially from strangers, Toji already owes them for the food they gave. He does not want to owe them more.

Finally, after a few more minutes of walking, Toji saw a break from the trees. The bright afternoon sun greeted the travelers who walked out of the huge forest of trees.

The leader amongst the group looked back at Toji and gestured for him to follow them. Toji thought about the strangeness of this world and the beast he encountered in the forest. The group of men did not emit any malicious intent. For the most part, they seemed harmless to him.

Or intimidated by the thought that I hunted this beast alone? A cynical part of his mind whispered.

Toji nodded towards the group, thankfully, nodding still seemed to be a gesture of agreement in this world. The men grinned at his acquiesce and laughed among each other. Their noisy guffaws frightened the small critters along the forest edge. Toji saw a red-eyed bunny rush back to its hole due to the group’s disturbance.

They walked along a well-beaten path towards a small town. Toji kept his face expressionless but inside, he is deeply curious. The men’s huge strides made them enter the town’s vicinity faster. Toji himself is not a small man but all the men he encountered since coming here are bigger than him. Even the women are bigger than usual.

It seemed to be a racial trait or something. There’s also the ancient clothing. The townspeople are wearing clothes from another era. Toji has not seen any modern person wear such clothing. However, unlike the ancient clothing that Toji has seen in those old movies, these residents seemed to be fond of leather and beast fur.

All the people they’ve encountered act shocked when they see the carcass trailing after Toji. The group of men before him only laugh at their shocked faces and gestured towards him. Toji didn’t mind being the center of attention but this is getting ridiculous. 

The group of men stopped walking and talked amongst each other for a bit. Their leader pointed at the smaller street before them and the huge carcass behind Toji. The man’s scarred lip almost formed a smile but Toji controlled the urge. He does not need to be a genius to see that the street is too narrow to fit the beast he’s dragging.

A brown haired man within the group scratched his head before pointing to another direction. The leader seemed to think for a bit before nodding and gesturing for Toji to follow them towards another path. 

The men brought Toji to another street, with wider roads and heavier traffic. Horse drawn carriages were common but pedestrians still occupied most of the street. This part of town is filled with stalls. People selling their wares everywhere. There seemed to be some sort of fat that these people were selling. Toji’s eyebrows almost twitched when he saw a gigantic whale being diced up on a stone platform.

The men approached a cunning looking fatty dressed in relatively nicer looking clothes. Toji’s lips twitched in amusement when he realized. 

I’m already in another world but why does every businessman I meet have this sly look? Is this what we call a professional requirement?

***

James Gordon almost jumped in fright when he felt someone’s hand on his shoulder. Almost. Except he’s used to Batman’s antics now. The bat-themed hero likes to appear without warning. Gordon would wager that Batman enjoys frightening people and sending them into coma through shock is not beneath the hero’s proclivities.

“This is the crime scene.”

Bruce’s eyes widened at the sheer brutality of the scene in front of him. Decapitated bodies are lumped together around the dump area. Pieces of dismembered organs are haphazardly littered around. One of the men, a fatter one, had a metal pole shoved inside his anus. Bruce couldn't help but inwardly cringe when he saw a cut-up human penis shoved into the mouth of another one of the victims.

“What are the results of your preliminary investigation?” At Bruce’s question, Gordon called one of the forensic investigators examining the crime scene. The younger man saw Bruce and almost tripped on his own feet with how fast he ran towards the two.

Bruce almost sighed when he saw the look of idolization in the forensic investigator’s eyes. It’s not that he dislikes Batman’s admirers. He’d rather have the masses idolize Batman than some charismatic but evil villain. It’s just that sometimes, these fans admire him too much.

“Explain the current facts, Billie.” Gordon ignored the younger officer’s shining eyes directed to Batman. The Commissioner is used to such Batman fanboys in the GCPD (Gotham City Police Department). The ratio of Batman haters and fanboys is roughly fifty-fifty in their department.

“Well, Commissioner Gordon and, uh, Batman, sir, the bodies were already dead for approximately 30 minutes before we arrived.” 

“Some local residents reported the incident after seeing the crime scene. All of the callers seemed horrified by what they saw.” 

“Did anyone see potential suspects or POIs (persons of interest) before this incident?” Gordon nodded at Billie, a subtle show of approval seeing the younger officer regain his professionalism.

“None of the callers saw any potential suspects or POIs but one of the women we interviewed earlier, not a caller, said that she saw these gang members,“ Billie gestured towards the dismembered corpses, “harassing a young boy earlier.”

“Looks Asian, the woman was not sure if he’s mixed or what. She also said that the boy seemed to be less than 10 years old.” Billie continued.

Bruce’s jaw clenched hearing that. Remembering Damian at home and Alfred’s words, the hero brusquely asked the younger officer, “Where is the boy now?”

Billie shook his head upon hearing his idol’s question, the younger man seemed to be disappointed with himself for not being able to answer his hero’s question.

“No one knows. The other people we interviewed did confirm seeing a boy being harassed by this nameless gang but no one claims to have seen him afterwards.”

Bruce gritted his teeth at that. He glanced at the commissioner and gave the older man a nod.

“I’ll patrol around the area. If you need to contact me, you know how to.”

***

Toji has been in this strange world for months now. The adjustment was not as hard as he thought it would be. In fact, if he’s being honest, he much prefers this world compared to his original one. Learning the language was a pain but only because of Toji’s natural laziness and urge to slack off. Fortunately, he wasn’t as stupid as his father likes to think.

Hagnar, the leader of the group that Toji met, offered to recruit him as one of the group’s hunters. Toji saw no reason to refuse. Being with the group comes with many benefits. Aside from a bed to sleep in and food for sustenance, Toji would also earn wages depending on his contributions during hunting.

The place Toji found himself in is called the Gargas Archipelago, a group of islands that belong to this world's Feysac Empire. The most popular industry in the Archipelago was the whale oil and gray amber trade industry. However, more capable Feysacians can still choose to become hunters or adventurers. Piracy is also a common source of income for the citizens of Feysac Empire.

“Toji, we’re going out for some drinks and pussy. Come with us!” Erik guffawed, light blue eyes shining at the thought of some strong but cheap Feysac liquor and wet cunt. Brun, another buffoon from Toji’s group, laughed hearing Erik’s invitation.

“You fool! If Toji comes with us then we won’t be getting our dick wet this evening. Or have you forgotten that incident last week?” Brun slapped down Erik’s head playfully.

Toji grinned at the idiotic duo, showing off his perfectly formed, pearly white teeth. “It’s not my fault those ladies can’t resist my charm, eh? Instead of blaming me for your bitchless state, why don’t you take a bath more regularly, to improve your chances?”

Erik and Brun’s faces turned red with annoyance at Toji’s words before the two started to laugh boisterously. 

“Toji, you cunt, if you’d chosen to be a hunter then perhaps you’d already have digested that provoker potion! That nasty mouth, tsk tsk.” Brun shook his head, his face drawn into false sadness at Toji’s apparent misfortune of not being a hunter beyonder.

The trio laughed at their own jokes as they walked towards the local tavern. Tall Feysac ladies gave coy smiles seeing Toji’s familiar face. The man’s scarred lips raised in an infernal smirk, causing some of the ladies’ cheeks to redden.

While Feysac women may not be as liberal as the women of Intis Republic, they are also not to be trifled with when it comes to flirtation and intimacy. The women are taller than average and more passionate than usual. Toji licked his lips, remembering the passions he shared with the women in question.

The people of Feysac claim to be descended from giants, something substantiated by their heights and physiques. The taller you are, the closer your bloodline is to the giant ancestors. They also believe in the God of Combat, a giant from ancient times. Toji does not believe in any God but he won’t say no to becoming more powerful.

When Hagnar learned that Toji is a normal human (even with his enhanced strength and speed), the older man was aghast but happy. According to him, Toji may have incompletely awakened his giant bloodline, hence the enhanced physicality but average (in terms of Feysac men) height.

The older man chose to introduce him to the path of Beyonders. There are no sorcerers in this world, only beyonders. People gain powers in exchange for their sanity. 

Instead of cursed techniques and cursed energy, this world has potions that give supernatural powers, abilities or physique to those brave enough to consume it. Different potions grant different abilities and correspond to a different beyonder pathway.

Toji would never say no to anything that can improve his strength, years of being treated worthless made him more than aware of the importance of strength. 

Hagnar offered him two choices, one is to take the warrior potion and further awaken his giant bloodline (Toji did not bother to correct the older man’s assumption that he is a half Feysacian bastard who got abandoned due to his smaller height), the other  is to take the Hunter potion and embody it.

Being a warrior would give Toji increased physical strength and weapon proficiency. He can wield any weapon he chooses and master all sorts of martial arts. The hunter potion would also increase his strength albeit not to the same level as a warrior. Drinking the potion would give him knowledge on how to set traps, enhance his senses and give him a slight intuition to danger.

Toji chose the first option. The physical enhancements and weapon proficiency of the warrior pathway would further amplify the advantages of Toji’s heavenly restriction. It’s a matter of 1+1 > 2. 

Most of the benefits of the hunter potion can also be gained through experience, things like trap setting, survival knowledge can be learned. As for enhanced senses and danger intuition, Toji would outclass any hunter in this area.

Toji’s wandering mind was brought back to reality when he felt wet heat engulf the tip of his cock. He looked down and realized that while he was in the middle of recollection, a Feysacian woman had dragged him to a narrow alley. As the woman did not have malicious intent, Toji’s instincts sought no reason to inform him of the change in location.

The woman’s blue eyes shimmered with lust, lips shiny with Toji’s precum. She hollowed her cheeks and sucked the thick length deeper into her mouth. 

“What a filthy slut, you couldn’t even wait a couple minutes before getting down to business?”

The woman attempted to pull off his cock in order to answer but Toji grabbed the back of her head and shoved his dick deeper into her wet mouth. 

“No need to talk, let your mouth do more important things.” Toji used both hands to grasp the Feysacian’s blond hair and started thrusting.

***

Bruce ran around the rooftops of Crime Alley, looking down at the streets every now and then, to see potential suspects or suspicious people around the area. He knows that the possibility of the killer remaining around the crime scene’s vicinity was a bit low but seeing a hero doing patrol would at least calm the residents down and hopefully prevent crimes escalating.

It’s not uncommon for petty crimes to rise in an area once there’s a brutal killing. The criminals become braver and more reckless, leading to more victims and more cruel crimes. It’s a vicious cycle, one that Bruce has already noticed long ago. Batman may look like a brute to clueless eyes but anyone with some sense would know that being Gotham’s crime fighting bat takes a lot of intelligence and relentless strategy.

Bruce was about to jump towards the ledge of another apartment building when something caught his attention. His trained eyes immediately zoned in towards a dingy house on the opposite side of the street. He usually patrolled around this area and is very familiar with the appearance of the houses and businesses here.

His brows furrowed when he realized that the abandoned house seemed to be occupied now. The broken windows were covered up by some thin, dirty sheets. The sheets seemed to have more holes than fabric at this point. Bruce contemplated entering the house and asking questions to the occupant.

He remembered that this house was still empty a few days ago, in fact, this house had been empty for years now. By the current looks of it, the new occupant didn’t seem to have renovated the house or at least made it look more livable. So, the one who lives here is either poor or homeless. The former could still afford to rent for some cheaper apartments in Crime Alley, they wouldn’t choose to live in this barely standing house. The latter cannot afford to be choosy.

Homeless. Could have moved in a few days to a few hours ago. 3 days ago was the last time I patrolled here and this house was still empty. If they moved in days ago then it’s unlikely for them to have seen potential suspects but if the occupant only found this house a few hours ago, then… They could be wandering the streets hours prior, there’s a possibility they’ve seen suspicious looking people roaming the streets.

Bruce’s thought of interviewing the house’s occupant was disrupted by a soft vibration on a hidden seam within his clothes. He took out the inconspicuous phone. Black, small and impersonal. It only has the basic apps and a sim card for communicating with the commissioner. He communicates with his bats and Alfred through another channel.

He sees the icon for a new text message. He popped open the app for a quick read of the message. After a couple seconds, he put the phone back into the hidden seam of his clothes and gave the house a last glance. Another time then. It’s not like the house’s latest occupant would be gone after only a couple hours, right? He’d come back to interview that homeless person later.

***

Megumi hid in an abandoned house not that far from where he woke up. He knows that his father will come find him sooner than later and that old man would kick his ass if Megumi hides somewhere too far.

A cold gust of wind rattled the flimsy covering Megumi placed on the house’s broken windows. Megumi shivered from the cold, his lips are now cracked due to dehydration. Megumi knows he can’t afford to have frostbite.

He heard the police siren ringing two blocks away. The authorities probably found the corpses he left behind. Megumi sneered, those bastards deserved to die for thinking they had the right to touch him.

The young boy made the corresponding shadow puppet to summon his demon dogs. The two shadow summons felt Megumi’s slight anxiety through their bond and didn’t play around. They followed their master’s unspoken orders and guarded the obvious entry points into the house.

Megumi closed his eyes and controlled his breathing. His hand defied the laws of physics and went through his own shadow. The young boy took out an antique, ritualistic knife from his shadow’s space storage and proceeded to cut the palm of his hand with the sharp blade.

Blots of sticky, crimson blood dropped on Megumi’s shadow but the boy did not falter. Using the knife, he cut off a very small chunk of flesh from his pinky finger. His shadows become darker as a result. Darkness becomes the void. The pure black turning to a devouring nothingness.

Megumi smiled seeing this result. The moment he came into this strange city, this strange world, he already wanted to conduct this ritual that his father taught him. It was a pity that those useless bastards tried to stop him from looking for a relatively quiet location where he won’t be disturbed.

‘Well, they’re dead now. They got their punishment for wasting my time.’

Megumi’s summons whined, smelling their master’s blood but neither tried to approach Megumi or leave their assigned guarding spot. Megumi has trained them well. 

The young boy waited for a few more moments, until his blood started to coagulate and stopped flowing from the wound. Green eyes stared into the void that was formerly his shadow before cracked lips opened to form words necessary for the ritual.

“Wielder of Colossal Might;
The King of the Fallen Ones;
Guardian of Eternal Twilight.”

“I pray for your help.
I pray for your loving grace.
I pray for your everlasting guidance.”

Megumi took out a single finger from the pocket of his pants. He threw it towards his shadow. The finger was absorbed by the inky blankness and disappeared alongside Megumi’s drops of blood.

“I am currently in a strange world, alone but currently unharmed. I have sent the finger of one of the inhabitants of this world. I hope it helps in determining my location.” 

Megumi cleared his throat. Eyes blurry due to the threat of tears. He has never been away from his father for more than a few hours. His classes only take a few hours each day and his father makes sure to finish work as soon as he can. Megumi loathes to say it but h e misses his father .

The ritual continued.

"Your devoted servant prays for your attention.
I pray for you to take his offerings.
I pray for you to give him strength."

The void in Megumi’s shadow was now retreating. The ritual is nearing its end. Before the void fully closed, Megumi’s emotions finally got the better of him. Tears fell on the closing inky blank void, Megumi’s soft pleas can barely be heard amidst the harsh winds battering the outside of the house.

“Please…”

“Find me… Father.”

Chapter Text

A towering figure stood atop a barren hill. The wind howled like a wounded wolf while lightning flashed on the skies above, its ashen color masking the true time of the day. The world seemed to be bathed in grey, as if in perpetual dusk. Heavy rain fell around him, but the figure remained still.

Rain slid down Toji Zenin’s face, dripping down a chiseled jaw like a lover’s caress.  A drop of rain water stubbornly clung to long lashes, unwilling to let go. Time seemed frozen at this moment. 

Man turned stone. A timeless masterpiece made by the hands of crazed artists. A sight not made for mortal eyes. The storm continued to rage, as if the man’s indifference towards it offended the gods.

It seemed that an eternity would pass like this but suddenly, the statue moved. Whispers floated through his mind. Transmitted from the astral world, meant for him only.

“Wielder of Colossal Might;

The King of the Fallen Ones;

Guardian of Eternal Twilight.”

“I pray for your help.

I pray for your loving grace.

I pray for your everlasting guidance.”

The prayer continued, a homage to a ruthless deity. The man’s eyes darkened, a scene appearing in his mind. A boy in a tattered room, kneeling piously. The image was blurry, as if blocked by a thick barrier. 

“Please…”

“Find me… Father.”

Toji gritted his teeth, exerting effort to pierce through the veil of space and time. He used his son’s offering, Megumi’s own blood and a finger from one of the inhabitants of that strange universe. 

The finger served as a disguise for himself, pretending to be a native of that universe. The essence within the flesh served as a mark of a person’s existence in their home universe. Toji wore the essence, like a wolf wearing sheep skin. 

The protective barrier of the universe is quite strong, a sign of its high level. Several beings gazed towards his direction when he finally entered.

Toji’s brows furrowed but he paid it no mind. He likened this experience to a new student going to school for the first time. The barriers served as the gate and the guards would check if the one entering has an ID and is wearing the correct uniform.

As long as all these things are in place, the guards would let the student pass without issue. Toji used the finger Megumi sacrificed as an ID, marking himself with the essence unique to the inhabitants of this universe.

***

The sound of thunder echoed along the vast halls of Wayne Manor. It rolled through the walls and rattled the windowpanes, a low growl that spoke of storms lingering over Gotham’s edge. 

It was ten in the evening, and Damian was out of bed. He tiptoed through the darkened hallway, socked feet soundless on the cold wood floor. The boy did not flinch at the thunder. His training had been merciless; fear was a weakness that had been cut from him long before he ever came to live here. A clap of thunder was nothing.

Still, the silence pressed against him. Wayne Manor was too large, too empty, too suffocating. In the League, there had always been voices in the night: the crack of blades, the shuffle of footsteps, whispered chants. Here, there was only the tick of the clock and the wind clawing at the glass.

He reached the staircase, one hand grazing the polished banister. He was about to descend toward the kitchens when the heavy front doors groaned open.

Bruce Wayne stepped through the entrance. He carried Gotham’s night on his shoulders, rain dripping from the edges of his coat, the faint scent of smoke clinging to him. He shut the door softly, though his presence filled the hall like another storm had just entered.

Damian froze. Bruce’s head lifted, his senses as sharp at home as they were on rooftops. His brown eyes found the boy standing above him.

“Damian.” Bruce’s voice rumbled low, followed by a slight clearing of his throat. “Why are you still awake?”

“I just wanted to get something from the kitchen,” Damian said. His tone was casual, but his spine was rigid. He met Bruce’s gaze without blinking.

“Next time, use the intercom,” Bruce said. “You should be resting by now.”

The words landed like cold rain. Damian’s brows knitted together. It was always like this. The look on his father’s face, the controlled weight in his tone, the choice of words that sounded less like a father’s concern and more like a commander’s order.

He hated it.

Why act like this now? Why act like he even cares, when he never truly let it show?

“I’m not a small child, Bruce. Stop treating me like one.”

His voice cracked sharper than he wanted it to, a blade swung too hard. He turned, fists clenched at his sides, and stormed back down the hall.

Anger surged in him, hot and reckless. Anger, and something far worse. His eyes burned at the corners, heat swelling into tears he refused to let fall. He had endured whippings, trials of blood and bone, weeks of grueling isolation under the League, and he had not cried. He would not cry now, not here, not because of this man.

He was better than this. Stronger. Crying was a weakness.

But still, the ache hollowed him out.

He hated it here. The vast rooms and endless halls suffocated him more than any cave or cell had. He hated the way the silence pressed down, hated the way he felt so small within the house’s massive walls. But most of all, he hated the way he craved something he could not name.

Affection.

Acknowledgment.

A father who looked at him and saw his son, not another soldier to be commanded.

He had been raised as a weapon, honed to kill without hesitation. Yet here, in Gotham, he felt more helpless than he ever had in the League. Here, the man who should have been his anchor was a fortress of silence, and Damian found himself slamming against stone walls that refused to crack.

He quickened his pace, shoulders stiff, retreating toward his room. He did not look back. He did not see the way Bruce’s eyes widened in the dim light, then darkened with something heavy and unreadable.

The boy vanished into the shadows of the hall.

Bruce stood in the entryway, rain dripping onto the marble. For a long moment, he did not move. The storm outside crashed against the manor, but it was nothing compared to the storm inside him.

The boy and the father lived under the same roof, moved through the same halls, yet the chasm between them had never felt wider.

***

It has been a few hours since Megumi finished the ritual. The skies had turned dark and cold seeped into the dingy house he’s staying in. The dirty, tattered curtains he’s found in the house were used to plug the holes in the wall and the broken windows. Megumi rubbed his hands together, goosebumps rising on his arms.

He stole some of those clothing but refused to take those heavily doused in the blood of the perverted men. He only took the slightly bloodied coat of the fat man and their wallets. He threw the wallets into the open sewers after taking all the money.

He knew that the authorities of the city would take heavy notice of the crime scene, considering how bloody and violent the killing was. Megumi sneered, remembering the lewd look in those men’s eyes.

They deserved it. If I had more time, or had been in a less exposed place, I would have inflicted worse pain upon them.

A knock on the door brought Megumi’s attention back to the present. He immediately made the hand signal to summon both his demon dogs. The two dogs felt the seriousness of their master and did not goof off.

They stationed themselves beside their master as the boy cautiously approached the door. He kept his footsteps quiet, courtesy of his father’s teaching. He heard whispering behind the door.

“Fuck, why is this door locked? You said this house was empty,” a man’s voice uttered.

“That’s weird man, I saw this house yesterday and there’s no one here,” another voice answered, sounding annoyed at his companion’s words.

The door shook as one of the men tried to open the door, using his body to barge into the house. Megumi frowned, thankfully, he placed one of the house’s old cabinets to hold the door in place.

He signaled a command directly to his summons’ minds, urging them to scare off the would-be intruders. The two growled, a low threatening sound. 

“Did you hear that?” 

The demon dogs growling grew louder, drowning out the two men’s anxious whispers. Megumi didn’t need to see their faces to know that they must look horrified right now. While cursed spirits don’t exist in this world, cursed energy is present, too present in fact. The whole city seems to be cloaked in negative energy, it reeks of despair and fear. 

These men might not know what cursed energy is, but they can certainly feel it and this was not just cursed energy. Megumi’s summons are actual cursed spirits, controlled through his Ten Shadows technique.

Megumi went back to his earlier position. Those two annoyances have run off, terrified by the mere idea of whatever was behind the door getting out and chasing after them. 

“When will dad come? This sucks,” the young boy sighed, eyes turning red at the idea of never seeing his father again. 

His two dogs approached him, whining. Demon dog white licked his face, while black nudged his knee. Megumi hugged the two, sniffling miserably.

The young boy lowered his face on his knees, hugging his legs to his chest. The two dogs suddenly started barking, startling Megumi. He was about to look up when he felt a large hand envelope his head, caressing the boy’s spiky hair.

He felt himself being lifted from the filthy floor, carried by strong arms and enveloped in a familiar scent. The young boy’s lips trembled, overwhelmed. Being transported in a strange city, killing annoying perverts, and the tremendous fear of being all alone, without his ultimate support, his protector.

Sobs racked the small body, the poor boy finally releasing all his bottled emotions. Toji tightened his hold on Megumi, patting the boy’s back in comfort. 

The two dogs are whimpering joyously, tails wagging, giving short yips of happiness as they circled around Toji’s feet. They sensed their master’s joy but unable to reach him, they made do with scratching Toji’s pants, sharp claws dragging across the fabric. However, strangely enough,  not a single mark was left on the seemingly normal fabric.

“I’m here, I’m here ‘gumi. It’s okay, everything’s gonna be okay.” The man kissed his child’s hair, soft despite its spiky appearance. Toji walked towards the door, the dogs hot on his heels.

***

Megumi ran towards the school gate, hurriedly waving goodbye to his new classmates. It’s the first day of classes today. The young boy is not the most friendly person but he did have some friends in his previous school and he’d be damned if he didn’t make a couple in this new one. 

As for why he’s running? Well, his father promised him ice cream after school and he didn’t want to wait longer than needed for his sweet fix.

He poked his head out the smaller gates, ignoring the guard’s attempts to keep him inside. His new school, a top-tier private institution, is strict and very concerned with their students’ safety. No student can get out without their parents or guardian fetching them.

Cars started to enter the driveway, divided from the pedestrian gate by black and yellow bollards. Other guards checked each car’s gate pass, ensuring that everyone who enters is actually authorized to take home students. 

Some women are already in the waiting area beside the gate, the majority wearing a uniform of some kind, a small handful are clad in exquisite clothing, costing a fortune. Megumi passed a glance among those waiting, looking for an imposing presence, someone who’ll stand out amongst any crowd. The raven pouted, dissatisfied with his father being late even if it’s barely been 3 minutes since dismissal time.

“Hey kid, wait for your guardian. You’re not allowed to get out.”

“Hmmp, I know that. I just want to-,” Megumi didn’t finish his words when he saw the familiar figure approaching the gates.

“Dad! I’m here, get that stupid pass out while walking so you can show it to them the moment you reach the gate. I don’t want to waste more time!” 

Toji ignored the boy’s shouts and continued to walk leisurely. He walked with his hands buried deep into the pockets of his jeans, plain white tee pulling taut across the breadth of his chest, leaving little to the imagination. However, Megumi did not care about these details, his mind focused on more important matters.

Megumi’s face reddened at his father’s actions, or more accurately, inaction. Why is this old man walking so slowly?! He didn't even take out the pass while walking so when he gets to the gate, he only needs to show the guards, then we can leave!

Megumi’s mouth opened in indignation, he was about to shout to his father again when he was distracted by a small clamor in the waiting area. Women were staring at his father, again. Megumi’s indignation bloomed into annoyance, especially after seeing the women fixing their clothing. One even attempted to pull her shirt lower.

The young boy’s mouth dropped even further. How weird, why is this woman pulling her uniform down? Does the shirt feel uncomfortable? But why didn’t she adjust it earlier? Also, why does this other woman’s eyes blink like that? Does she have something stuck in her eye?

He was so focused on the women’s strange actions that he didn’t even notice that his father finally crossed the path from the main road towards the pedestrian gate. A pinch to the nose broke his concentration.

“Ouch! Hey old man, why did you do that?” He seethed, grabbing Toji’s clothes in an attempt to annoy the man. Unfortunately (or fortunately for the women) his methods did not bore the desired result, his tussling did not annoy his father. However, it did lead to him almost slipping on his feet after a sharp tug to the man’s shirt.

His father used a single hand to catch him. Megumi was stunned after almost falling, his hand still holding one end of his father’s shirt, causing it to lift when the man perched him on one shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

The noise from the waiting area rose instantly, one even gave a shriek that was immediately cut off by a reprimand from the others. Megumi turned his head towards the gaggle of women, curious about what caused the commotion. The movement caused him to let go of his father’s shirt, as he used that hand to support himself. 

The crowd rippled with murmurs of protest. Megumi’s brows furrowed, he was even more curious as to what interesting thing caused this group to react like this. Too bad for him, his father had already turned to the main road, walking towards a huge motorcycle.

“Dad, what made them react like that?” Megumi asked, curious as a cat and twice as cunning. He’d deal with his father’s slowness later, he’s really itching to know what the women were looking at.

“I dunno,” Toji replied. As nonchalant as ever and even more annoying. Megumi’s anger returned but before he could lecture the old man, he was placed unceremoniously atop the motorcycle.

Toji took the helmet on his handlebar and put it on Megumi’s head. It was black and covered in stickers of different varieties. A purple dog was particularly obvious, as it's the largest of the stickers. Toji placed the customized child's helmet on Megumi’s head, tightening the strap across the boy’s chin. The older man didn't wear a helmet himself, Gotham's lax traffic law's implementation making the headgear more like a suggestion for motorists.

He swung a leg over the bike in one fluid motion, large form perfectly fitting on the mechanical monster. Tanned hands gripped the handlebars, veins standing out against thick forearms. Megumi immediately hugged his father, muscle memory from riding with him on a motorcycle.

“Dad, let’s go! I want to eat ice cream now! You know my favorite flavor sells out early right?” The kid mumbled, voice drowned out by the low thrum of the bike. Toji hummed in response, a sound eerily similar to the engine’s throaty rumble. 

The bike roared to life and sped off, leaving a group of disappointed women behind.

***

Damian entered the old ice cream store by himself, in contrast to the pairs of parent and child or groups of friends rowdily shouting their orders. The lonesome youngster traced the line of people with his eyes and followed behind the last person in line. 

The line was long but fast moving, the workers already used to the hectic number of customers. He had been standing in line for less than a minute when he heard the bell at the entrance ring, signifying the arrival of another customer. 

Damian didn’t even bother to look back, foot tapping impatiently. Class just ended and he wanted to eat ice cream as a reward for himself. A reward for not smacking those pompous classmates in the face.

He noticed some of the people in front looking back at him, or most likely, at the people behind him.

“-so I said to Rudy, it’s not my fault you’re stupid then Mary laughed. Mary’s okay, I guess, much better than Rudy but she’s too talkative dad. I’m not kidding, she really talks a lot-,” Damian almost reacted at that. Talkative, huh? Well, if it’s not the pot calling the kettle black.

The boy continued to babble, with the occasional grunts of acknowledgement from his father. Damian tuned out the noise and recalled his own first day of school experience. Sent to school by Alfred, his own sperm donor apparently too busy to even give him a ride on the man’s way to work. He didn’t make any friends, too busy restraining the urge to teach his brat classmates a painful lesson.

Some were tolerable, the majority were useless brats without a shred of talent. They don’t need it anyway, the mere luck of being born in a wealthy family is enough to widen the gap between them and any ordinary person. Talent? Skill? Unless you’re a genius on par with Lex Luthor, sheer talent cannot bridge the gap that being born privileged gets you.

“Cup or cone?” The shopkeeper’s bored voice snapped Damian out of stupor, looking at the remaining containers displayed. This shop is known for delicious and cheap ice cream hence the fast depletion of some of the best selling flavors.

“Cup, two scoops of French Vanilla.”

“That would be 6 dollars.”

Damian was about to pull his wallet out of his pocket when he realized he didn’t bring it with him. The chauffeur didn’t agree with him buying ice cream alone in this neighborhood but Damian assured him that this is not his first time buying here and that no one knows his identity anyway. He rushed towards the shop to prevent the man from stopping him so he forgot to take his wallet out of his bag.

“Uhmm, I’m sorry but I left my wallet in the car. I’m just gonna grab it then come back here.” Damian apologized, ears turning red due to embarrassment. He refused to meet the shopkeeper’s eye and turned to leave.

At the corner of his eye, he noticed the boy and the man behind him in the line. He didn’t pay them too much attention and walked quickly towards the door, feeling the shopkeeper’s eyes burning holes in his back.

“Dad, let’s just pay for his ice cream. It’s just 6 dollars and look, we have the same uniform.” 

“Okay.”

“Same order ‘gumi?” Damian heard the shopkeeper ask the other boy.

“Don’t call me that! It’s Megumi, Me-gu-mi! But yes, same order.”

“25 dollars, plus that boy’s 6 dollars. It’s 31.” 

Damian snapped out of his shock and walked back towards the counter. He stared at the boy and realized that they indeed had the same uniform. He was anxious to get his wallet earlier and didn’t have time to pay attention to the noisy child and his quiet father.

“You don’t have to do that, I can pay for it. I really just forgot my wallet in the car.”

“I know but it’s just 6 dollars and we're from the same school anyway.”

The boy eyed Damian like he was the weird one. Damian sputtered at the look in the boy’s eyes, as if doubting his intelligence. It’s true, 6 dollars is not a huge amount, especially since the boy came from the same school as him, clearly not lacking money.

The towering man, the boy’s father, paid the amount then nudged the boy to take his order. The smaller and presumably younger boy took his ice cream from the worker assigned for scooping out the ice creams. 

Damian’s eyes goggled at the sweetened monstrosity. Even Damian, with his sweet tooth, can’t imagine anyone eating it and living to tell the tale.

I feel like I’m contracting diabetes just by looking at it.

***

Damian stared out the car window, the grey Gotham sky making the whole city look bleak and even more depressing than usual. He closed his eyes and leaned heavily against the seat. What happened at the ice cream shop is still fresh in his mind.

Two boys sat inside a booth, one smaller, one bigger, both having black hair and green eyes. Damian eyed the younger boy sitting opposite him while the boy’s father went outside to buy some fries. It was almost comical watching the tiny boy ordering his gigantic father like a particularly strict drill sergeant.

“Dad, I want the loaded animal fries with extra cheese and extra bacon bits. Also, make sure the bacon bits are crispy and I mean super crispy,” he ordered imperiously, nose raised to the ceiling, spoiled as hell.

The father, whom Damian learned is named Toji, only raised a thick eyebrow at his son’s words then left without saying anything else. Damian stared at the two, astounded that a son can treat his father that way, without the latter raising an objection or scolding the child.

His train of thought was broken by the boy’s words.

“Why do you look so shocked? Wait, you didn’t know that bringing food or drinks from other stores is allowed here?” The younger one laughed at Damian’s ‘lack of knowledge’. 

Damian stared at the boy’s look of superiority, Megumi looked proud of knowing more than another boy, especially one who obviously looked older than him. Strangely enough, Damian didn’t feel the urge to smack the brat. Megumi’s spoiled nature is not mean spirited nor cruel, a world of difference from his classmates' snotty attitudes.

His lip twitched at the boy’s words, he knew about the shop’s lack of corkage fees. Raised and trained by the League of Assassins, observation is just one of the skills he’s mastered from an early age. Accidentally leaving his wallet in the car and his lack of concentration today, both are caused by his inner turmoil. 

‘Your father couldn’t be bothered to send you to school, didn’t even fetch you after classes. You can have all the money in the world, but you’ll never experience what this boy has had all his life.’

Damian ignored the sinister thought, moving his gaze away from the boy. Megumi cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable by Damian not reacting to the teasing.

“Well, it’s fine if you didn’t know before. At least you do now. No one knows everything anyway,” Megumi mumbled from behind his huge bowl of ice cream, before spooning a mouthful and shoving it into his mouth.

Damian inwardly smiled, he’s right. Megumi is not like those annoying kids.

***

After their emotional reunion, Toji asked Megumi if he wanted to go back home. Megumi understood what his father meant, they would leave this world and go back to their own. 

The young boy thought of his friends back home, his school and everyone he knew back there. While he’d miss his friends and he did like his school, that feeling is clouded by the excitement of being in a new world. 

Wrapped in his father’s arms and finally feeling secure enough, Megumi’s mind has never  been clearer. 

“No, I don’t want to go back. Dad, I want to see what this world has to offer! Let’s stay here for now, please dad.”

Toji didn’t say anything, just stared at his son’s face. Puffy eyes with pink nose and cheeks, courtesy of crying for more than 5 minutes straight. Green eyes peeked behind long lashes, still wet with tears. 

The older man stared at his son’s face and knew that he’s absolutely screwed. He already had difficulty saying no to his son before. This experience, while scary for Megumi, had only taken place in the span of a few hours. But for Toji, it had been six agonizing weeks without his son. Horrific is too tame of a word to describe the experience.

Toji ignored the boy’s fumbling, the younger impatiently waiting for his father’s response. He kissed his son’s hair, breathing in the scent of Megumi’s favorite chocolate scented shampoo.

“Anything for you.” 

***

Years before Megumi’s birth

Backlund was a city that never truly slept. Its factories breathed smoke into the night, its ships groaned on the murky Tussock River, and its streets whispered of murders, cults, and the kind of contracts respectable men pretended not to know about.

In a smoky tavern tucked between a small store and a pawnshop, one such contract is in the process of being struck.

The man across from Toji Zenin had the look of someone desperate to live longer than tomorrow. His fingers trembled as he pushed a sealed envelope across the table, its wax stamped with an emblem that Toji didn’t bother to examine. His eyes were on the man’s throat, the faint bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

“The target’s a… a rogue Beyonder,” the client stammered. “Sequence Eight, Provoker. He’s turned half my neighborhood into zealots. The Church won’t touch it… he comes from a powerful family. Politics you know?” The man laughed nervously.

“But you… you don’t ask questions.”

Toji smirked, a faint tilt of his lips. He picked up the envelope, weighing it casually. It was heavy. He opened the envelope and took out the money, counting it in front of the man without any semblance of shame, not even the least bit awkward.

“Correct. I don’t ask questions,” Toji repeated, sliding the money into his coat. “I just kill.”

The client flinched at the bluntness, but Toji was already standing. Taller than two meters, he loomed effortlessly, his presence sucking the air out of the cramped room. Without another word, he left, melting into the fog-draped streets of Backlund.

Backlund’s east borough was a labyrinth of alleys slick with coal dust and damp with river fog. It was here, in a decaying warehouse lit with flickering gas lamps, that the rogue Provoker preached.

Toji’s footsteps made no sound. One of the earliest traits he’d mastered on the Twilight Giant Pathway was light occultation, not invisibility, but a bending of shadows, a way to blur his outline, soften the crunch of boots, mute the gleam of steel. 

Toji was plenty formidable before, the abilities granted by the Twilight Giant pathway only enhanced his lethality. Like adding wings to a tiger.

Inside the warehouse, the drone of a sermon carried through the brick walls. A man’s voice rose and fell, hypnotic, charged with unnatural fervor:

“Brothers and sisters, the fire of revolution must consume the old world! Let the streets run red with the blood of tyrants!”

A chorus of voices roared back in agreement.

Toji crouched on the rooftop opposite, watching through a soot-streaked window. 237 followers packed the cramped interior, faces alight with fanatic devotion. The preacher at the center waved his arms, and the crowd swayed as if he was pulling their strings.

So that’s the rogue, Toji thought. A Sequence Eight, nothing more. Child’s play.

But Toji wasn’t reckless. He counted exits, noted the weapons in the room, measured distances. His fingers brushed the hilt of the long blade strapped across his back. 

The sermon reached a crescendo. The preacher raised his arms, voice cracking with manic triumph:

“Tonight, we march! The factories will burn! The-”

The window shattered.

Toji burst through in a shower of glass, cloak snapping in the lamplight. He hit the floor with predatory grace, already moving. His blade sang as it left its sheath, a whisper of death.

Gasps turned to screams.

The first cultist lunged with a knife, a foolish and ultimately useless endeavor. Toji’s sword split him from collarbone to hip in one merciless stroke. Blood sprayed, painting the walls. Before the others could react, Toji was among them, a wolf in a pen of sheep.

Steel flashed, bodies crumpled. Toji moved with terrifying efficiency, each swing a killing blow, each step calculated to keep enemies off balance. Knives skittered off his coat; pistol shots cracked uselessly against his dodges. His sheer speed and physical power dwarfed them all.

And then the preacher acted.

The rogue Provoker roared, his voice layered with supernatural compulsion:

“YOU WILL DIE BY THE FLAMES!”

A wave of fanatic zeal swept the room, crashing against Toji like fire. Dozens of eyes glazed red with frenzy, their wielders surging forward in suicidal fury.

But Toji didn’t flinch.

The Twilight Giant’s mysticism resistance burned the compulsion away like smoke in the wind. He remained unaffected by the rogue’s provocation. His lips twisted into a cruel smile.

He moved faster. His blade severed throats, crushed ribs, lopped off arms. Blood spattered his shirt, streaked across his jaw. The zealots died without slowing him.

The preacher stumbled back, eyes wide. “You… what are you?”

Toji advanced, the shadows clinging unnaturally close to him, the lamplight bending away as though the night itself wanted him hidden.

“Your killer,” he said simply. The first and last time he'd speak during this entire massacre.

Cornered, the preacher fumbled a vial from his coat, downing the crimson liquid inside. His body convulsed, bones snapping, muscles swelling grotesquely. His skin flushed fever-red, veins pulsing with borrowed power.

He roared, voice layered with fiery resonance, and hurled a wave of flame across the room. The blast incinerated pews, turning followers into ash. The fire washed over Toji.

When the smoke cleared, he stood unscathed, coat charred at the edges but his body untouched. His Twilight Giant resilience, combined with his innately monstrous physique, shrugged off the heat.

The preacher’s eyes bulged. “Impossible!”

Toji was already in motion.

He leapt, blade raised, muscles coiling like springs. He hit the preacher with the force of a battering ram, driving him through the wall in an explosion of brick and plaster. Both crashed into the alley outside, the night air filling with dust.

The preacher staggered upright, roaring, fists blazing with fire. He swung, a blow that could shatter stone.

Toji caught the fist in one hand. His grip crushed bone. The preacher screamed. Then Toji’s blade whispered, and the rogue’s head toppled from his shoulders.

Toji stood over the corpse, chest rising and falling steadily. He wiped his sword clean on the preacher’s coat, sheathed it, and walked away. Behind him, the warehouse burned, flames licking the night sky. Whether by accident or the preacher’s final flare, the cult’s nest would be reduced to ash, its secrets consumed.

Toji didn’t care. His job was done.

In the days that followed, Backlund buzzed with rumors. A cult snuffed out overnight. A preacher of blood and fire, slain by a phantom killer. Some said it was the Church of Evernight, others the Military’s secret squad. 

The rogue’s family invited two investigators, one proficient in the occult, the other with the ability to divine. Both had similar statements. First, there was only one killer. A scary fact. There were more than 200 members present, some were beyonders as well, people with mystical abilities. Second, the massacre started at 10:57 in the evening and ended before the clock turned 11. This horrified the family, causing them to cancel further investigations. 

No matter their power or influence, a human is a human. There’s no notable difference between a peasant’s flesh and a noble’s.

***

It’s been days since the ice cream shop encounter and Megumi has long since put it out of his mind. He hasn’t seen the boy again after that. Damian didn’t go to the store again and at school, different grade levels are not on the same floor. Maybe Damian is in a totally different building from Megumi’s homeroom.

The young boy creeped into the living room, trying his best to be stealthy. It’s past 2AM on a Saturday and his father has fallen asleep on the couch again. A replay of a horse race was playing on the 75 inch TV. 

He saw the remote placed on the coffee table and immediately lowered the volume on the TV before switching to another channel. The boy watched the never ending ads play, inwardly urging time to run faster. Bored by the home appliance ads, Megumi turned his head to stare at his sleeping father. His nose twitched after seeing the man’s sleeping posture.

“Why is this old man sleeping like this? Tsk tsk,” Megumi shook his head as if dissatisfied with the old man’s position. He walked towards his sleeping father, grabbing a blanket off the opposite sofa and covering his father’s bare upper body.

“You probably won’t catch a cold because you have such thick skin but since I’m a good son, I’ll cover you anyway,” Megumi whispered, staring at his father’s sleeping face.

After his father found him, and with Megumi’s decision to stay, the older man decided to buy a house near the best school in the city. Unfortunately, the school is just shy of the city center, surrounded by businesses. Residential options were limited to condominium units or apartments.

The father and son pair didn’t waste time, they immediately went to a realty company to look for accommodations. During the visits, Megumi didn’t feel strongly for any of the available units, they were nicer than their old apartment but nothing exciting. His father probably noticed his indifference to the offered units so their next visit was to a house.

It was further from the school compared to the condos and apartments but Megumi immediately fell in love with it. The house is made from a dark wood that the boy doesn’t know the name of, with a very spacious backyard. But what Megumi loved the most is the indoor garden right at the center of the first floor.

Don’t ask Megumi how his father got the money, he cares for the result. As for the process, that’s the old man’s problem.

The boy’s thoughts were interrupted by the sounds coming from the TV. He ran back to his earlier position, thrilled that the show he’d been anticipating since Monday was finally starting. 

On the TV, the narrator’s voice rolled out over sweeping images of capes, shadows, and raging battlefields:

"The age of heroes did not begin in silence. It began with a man who fell from the skies, a symbol draped in red and blue, carrying the weight of a world that wasn’t his own. When Superman revealed himself, the world changed overnight. But he was not alone.”

“From the darkness of Gotham rose a figure who fought not with supernatural abilities or godly powers, but with fear itself. In the second part of this documentary series, we will trace the path and the sacrifices, the failures and successes of this beloved hero. A man with no powers. No gifts from gods, no speed to outrun lightning, nor strength to move mountains.”

“His weapon is fear. His ally? The shadows. From the alleys of Gotham, he rose: a man who made himself into something more than human. To criminals, he is a shadow ever looming. To allies, a reliable partner. To the world, he is proof that even in the age of gods, a mortal can stand among them."

"This is the story of the Dark Knight: his rise, his journey, and how he redefined what it means to stand against the impossible."

Megumi’s eyes gleamed as the music swelled. In his eyes, an indescribable desire bloomed, something that would change the trajectory of this world. Of this universe.