[center][img]http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj306/Carnage27/Batman_Banner___Unfinished_by_Xer0ne.jpg[/img][/center] [b]The Batcave Gotham City, NJ December 25, 2015 6 AM[/b] The large screen of the central computer in the Batcave shone in the darkness like a supernova in the inky blackness of space. On it, scenes of Metropolis and Superman’s death played out on loop, as they would for weeks. The Batman sat in front of the screen, his cowl discarded carelessly on the damp cave floor. The hair that would normally be seen as immaculately displayed in Bruce Wayne’s public appearances was caked with sweat and dried blood. Scrapes and cuts adorned his face, but his eyes were locked on the screen. They could do nothing else but watch the frantic reports about his best friend’s death. And they needed to watch, because there were clues here. He knew there had to be. “Perhaps you should get some rest, Master Bruce,” Alfred Pennyworth said from the shadows. The old, English gentleman stepped into the glow of the monitor, a worried look on his face. “There is the Wayne Foundation charity event later in the day. You were scheduled to be there.” Bruce was silent for agonizing moments. He knew Alfred was merely looking out for him. The butler wanted to get his mind off the events of the night before. Pennyworth had done it numerous times throughout Wayne’s career as Batman, and it nearly always worked. But it wouldn’t this time. This time it was different. “Let them know I won’t be going,” he finally said with a gruff tone. “Make something up. You’re good at that.” Alfred shifted uneasily at the edge of the computer’s light. He fought against saying anything more, but he was unable to hold his tongue. He had watched Bruce tear himself apart far too often for that. He approached the vigilante and put his hand on his shoulder, “Bruce, I know how much he meant to you. How much he meant to all of us. But staring at this is not going to bring him back. All it will do is eat at you.” Batman breathed deep, patting his friend’s hand with understanding, “I know it won’t bring Clark back, Alfred. But it will lead me to whoever killed him.” The butler recoiled, clearly unsure of where Wayne’s head was at, “Master Bruce...that thing killed him.” “No,” Bruce said firmly. “That thing was just a weapon. I want who ever fired it.” A few keystrokes on the computer ceased the news broadcasts and replaced them with a map of Doomsday’s rampage. Bruce scoffed at the name “Doomsday”, but that’s what the media had settled on, the fatalist bunch that they were. The origin point was a comet strike in western Pennsylvania, and the line ended in Metropolis. “Look,” Bruce started a timelapse, “it crash lands outside Pittsburgh, and makes a direct route to Metropolis. A straight line. The only time it even slowed down was when the JLI tried to get in its way. Other than that, it was going to one place. Once it was at Metropolis, it just started killing. It was sent to draw us out, and it was sent to get to Superman specifically.” “My word,” Alfred gasped, “do you think it was alien in origin?” “I’m not ruling out anything,” Bruce shook his head. “But I am going to find where it came from.” The footsteps behind him told Bruce that Alfred had retreated back to the manor defeated in his attempt to break the hold his grief had over him. Many would cry on this Christmas morning. That Bruce Wayne knew. He would not be one of them, however. Sadness was not the emotion that overcame him in the wee hours of that holiday morning. No, his heart was instead filled with defeat. Bruce had never told Clark, but the Dark Knight knew Superman was the true key to changing the world. Now that key was taken away from them, and they’d all have to work to stand a chance in this war. “Computer,” Batman commanded the machine, “track Doomsday’s approach to Earth. Might tell us something.” “Affirmative, Batman,” the computer responded. Bruce sighed, waited for the result, and put his head in his hands. [center]**********[/center] [b]Metropolis, DE January 1, 2016[/b] Kara’s speech was poignant, and, if Bruce was being honest with himself, something he needed to hear. He still wasn’t sure if anyone or anything could fill in for the loss of Clark, but at least she was trying her hardest. He knew none of them would be happy he wasn’t sitting next to them on this day and was instead watching from a distance, but he had work to do, that much was for sure. As Supergirl’s words concluded, he climbed back into the Batwing and prepared to return to Gotham. “Batman,” Oracle’s voice came over the comm link, “you copy.” “Affirmative,” Bruce’s voice cracked slightly under the emotional stress. He cursed at himself in his head. Wayne prided himself on keeping in control at all times. Even that small slip up was a mistake to him, even if it would have been understood. He had just heard the eulogy of his best friend. “What’s the situation.” “You know the pieces of Amazo that ARGUS is transporting?” Babs responded, ignoring Bruce’s mental state. “You mean the ones they’re losing,” Batman deadpanned. ARGUS had been trying to separate the pieces of Professor Ivo’s Amazo android to ensure it was never recovered and reassembled. Batman had argued against giving the agency jurisdiction over them, believing they weren’t equipped to deal with them. He was right, of course. They weren’t and now everything had been taken beside the head in the week that was filled with chaos due to Clark’s death. “Yea,” Oracle chuckled. “Well I just intercepted a transmission that their moving the final piece.” “And if you intercepted it-” “That means Ivo probably did too,” Oracle finished his sentence. “I’m on it.” [center]**********[/center] Before long, Batman was over the train carrying the part of Amazo, which according to Oracle was already under attack. He opened the commlink, “Oracle, do you have the layout of the train?” “The cargo is the first three cars after the locomotive,” Oracle responded. “The last three are passenger cars where any civilians might be.” “Copy,” Batman swooped the Batwing down over the connector of the back and front half of the train. With a few button presses, a small, controlled charge dropped onto the train connectors, separating the civilians and the location the villains would be. He then set the Batwing to autopilot and dropping onto the top of the cargo section of the train. He swung into the train, where he was greeted by a hulking, monstrous visage. He tossed a handful of explosive batarangs at his arms, causing him to drop the crate containing Amazo’s head. Batman growled, “Grundy. Leave now and we don’t have to do this. Ivo is using you.”