Broken(DC)

POV: Brian Forman

While I was calmly sitting in the cafeteria, someone unexpectedly sat down beside me. Lifting my gaze, I saw Superman—the strongest superhero on Earth, who, as they say, even survived death. His lunch looked rather modest compared to mine, where the portions were at least twice as large.

"I see you've changed. Feeling better now?" Superman asked.

My body had been undergoing changes, slowly returning to its former self, though it now looked more mature. I no longer had a massive physique and looked more like an ordinary human, although my build and skin tone still hinted at something different. My face was regaining its old features, and my teeth no longer resembled sharp fangs.

"Yeah, I hope everything goes back to normal," I replied.

"I'm curious—have you thought about what you'll do next?" Superman asked again. For some reason, he seemed interested in my life. I didn't talk to many people here, except for Cyborg.

"Not really. First, I'd like to make it back to Earth," I answered.

"You know, I've been thinking—your abilities could be used for good. What do you think about joining the Teen Titans? You're still inexperienced, but you could learn a lot there and help people," Superman suggested.

"I don't know," I admitted honestly. I'd never dreamed of becoming a hero, and after everything I'd been through, I was even less inclined to do so.

"In any case, you have time to think about it, and the offer will always stand," Superman said. He was about to leave when a red light began flashing in the hall, accompanied by the sound of an alarm. "What's happening?" he asked, bewildered, and rushed toward the main room.

Curious, I followed him. In the hall, the few people who were in the Watchtower had gathered. Cyborg stood in front of the monitor. On the surveillance cameras, we saw a horrifying scene: a green gas was filling the city, turning everyone into laughing maniacs and forcing them to attack each other.

"That's Joker toxin. Justice League, you need to neutralize it as quickly as possible or the entire city will perish," Cyborg said.

The heroes immediately rushed to the portals, and the hall emptied in seconds. I couldn't just stand by and watch my city fall apart.

"What can I do to help?" I asked Cyborg.

"You're from Gotham. Head there. I marked Batman's distress signal on this watch. The Bat-Family is already on their way. Your resistance will allow you to ignore the toxin," Cyborg replied, handing me a wristwatch with a map and a red marker on it. "Use the first teleporter. I've temporarily granted you access."

Nodding, I made my way to the portal. As I stepped through, I heard a robotic voice say, "Temporary access granted: Brian Forman."

The scene around me blurred, as if countless lines were streaking past me, until the point ahead expanded. I found myself in an alleyway. Despite the passage of time, much of Gotham remained the same—especially the trash-littered spaces between buildings and the ever-present terrible smell.

The portal frame disappeared behind me, dissolving into the wall. Amazing technology.

In the air hung a greenish mist, and I began to feel pressure building in my head. Breathing in more of the toxin, I coughed violently. My thoughts started to blur, and I had to lower myself to the asphalt to keep from losing control. This state lasted for about two minutes before the pain began to subside, and it became easier to breathe.

Standing up from the ground, I decided to move onto the rooftops. That way, I'd draw less attention—though right now, that was the least of my concerns. My appearance was concealed by a suit and mask designed by Cyborg. With a powerful leap, I effortlessly landed on a six-story building. From the roof, I had a clear view of the streets below, where people infected by the toxin had gone mad, laughing uncontrollably.

At first, I thought about heading home to check if my loved ones were safe. But if they were infected, there was nothing I could do for them. And if they were fine, I had no idea where to take them. I needed to help Bruce. With him, we'd have a better chance of helping everyone by finding an antidote. Crossing the streets with leaps and bounds, a heavy sense of unease settled in my heart—returning home felt like stepping into a world turned into hell.

The map led me to a warehouse where there were hardly any clouds of toxin. Entering, I heard gunfire and explosions. Running toward the sounds, I came across a battle between armed individuals dressed like clowns and another group wearing outfits similar to Bruce's, though he wasn't there. Without hesitation, I joined the fray, taking down enemies one by one. It only took a single punch to neutralize them, and their weapons were useless against me.

"Whoa, who the hell are you?" shouted a man in black and blue gear, gripping a pair of batons.

"I'm on your side. I was sent to help," I replied, finishing off the last thug.

"I don't remember seeing you among the heroes," he said suspiciously, and the others didn't lower their weapons either, keeping their eyes trained on me.

"My name's Brian. An old friend of Bruce's," I added.

"Careful with the names—we're not supposed to say them," said a young woman with voluminous orange hair and a flawless figure. Her voice sounded youthful but confident. "Batman did mention something like this," she added.

"Well, if he's with us, let's get moving. Batman needs our help," the boy holding a sword said impatiently.

Nodding silently, the four of us ran further into the warehouse. We quickly took care of the remaining clowns until we reached a basement level. Descending the stairs, all we could hear was laughter echoing through the space.

"Joker's probably down there," the boy said, charging ahead with incredible speed.

"Wait, Robin!" shouted the man with the batons, running after him.

"Boys," the woman muttered with a shrug and followed them. I had no choice but to go as well.

I moved last, though I could have easily overtaken them, but the corridors here were narrow. Robin charged into the only door, sword first, and we followed close behind.

The first thing that caught our attention was the corpse of a man whose head had been crushed beyond recognition. He was dressed in a purple suit. Not far from him lay Batman, breathing heavily. Around us were monitors displaying surveillance footage from various locations, each echoing with the sound of laughter.

"Father!" Robin cried out, rushing to Bruce's side.

Bruce has a son? I didn't know. Later—I'd deal with that later.

"Damian," Bruce croaked.

"He's alive, but it looks like Joker finally paid for today's suffering," said the man with the batons, glancing at Bruce's bloodied fists. "And it seems Batman crossed the line."

"He did the right thing. Joker should have been killed a long time ago," Robin snarled.

"Have you forgotten what he taught us? I'm sure Joker did something to him," the man argued.

"Nightwing, Robin, calm down. We need to get Batman back to base and deal with the aftermath," said the woman—the only one who seemed to be thinking rationally.

"Agreed." Nightwing nodded, lifting Bruce's body and heading for the exit.

I glanced at Joker's lifeless body one last time before following them.

"Do you have any idea how to neutralize the toxin infecting people?" I asked the only woman in the group.

"We don't know yet. We've dealt with Joker's chemicals before, but each time he creates something new. This is an entirely new type of toxin. Batman might be the only one who can come up with an antidote. And I'm Batgirl, by the way," she replied.

"Got it," I said simply.

At the exit, a vehicle awaited us. It was unlike anything I'd seen before: dark in color, massive wheels, and the Bat insignia emblazoned on its hood. Nightwing opened the trunk, gently placing Bruce inside. From a compartment on the side, he pulled out a wrist device with multiple wires and strapped it to Bruce's arm.

"Okay. His pulse is elevated, and there are unknown elements in his bloodstream. It's likely the toxin. He's stable for now, but we need to get him treated quickly," Nightwing said, studying the screen attached to the device.

"Then let's not waste time," Batgirl urged.

Nightwing shut the trunk and pressed a button on his wrist. The car's cabin opened from above, revealing enough space for four people. Everyone quickly climbed in and took their seats.

"Why are you standing there? Get in!" Batgirl called to me.

Awkwardly, I clambered inside. The vehicle's interior was incredibly high-tech, and I couldn't make sense of a single button or interface. I felt like a caveman compared to how effortlessly they handled everything.

The car picked up an impressive speed, maneuvering skillfully through traffic despite its size.

"Is he even allowed to be with us?" Robin asked irritably, pointing at me. He was seated right next to me.

"It's fine. He already knows who's under the masks," Nightwing replied, focused on driving.

"By the way, how's Alfred doing?" I asked.

"Do you know him?" Robin asked, surprised.

"I did, but my memory of him was erased. I'm not sure if he remembers me," I replied sadly.

Silence settled in the car, and we continued our journey in quiet. From a distance, I caught sight of Wayne Manor, but we veered off in another direction. Suddenly, the ground began to open, revealing a passageway carved into the mountain. As soon as we drove in, the gates closed behind us. The tunnel was long, and it took us some time to reach our destination.

When the car finally stopped, the cabin opened, revealing the Batcave. We had parked on a central platform surrounded by an array of advanced technology, the purpose of which I couldn't even begin to guess. One path led to a massive computer setup. I'd thought the console in the Watchtower was impressive, but this was on another level: dozens of monitors of various sizes, accompanied by a vast array of equipment. On the opposite side stood a display of suits, each with unique colors and designs.

[image]

As I stared in awe, I didn't notice that everyone else had already gotten out of the car. When I finally stepped out, I saw Bruce lying on a medical bed, hooked up to some equipment. Nightwing stood by his side, Batgirl was already at the computers, and Robin was nowhere to be seen.

My attention was drawn to an older man nearby, and it took me a moment to recognize Alfred. He had aged significantly since I last saw him, though he still carried himself with dignity, standing tall with a confident gaze. As I approached, he extended his hand toward me.

"It's been a long time, Young Brian—or should I say, Mister Brian?" he greeted me with a smile.

"You remember me?" I asked, shaking his hand.

"If you're asking whether I'd forgotten you, the answer is yes—but the spell was lifted, and I remember you now. I recall how brave you were as a child, always ready to sacrifice yourself for others," Alfred said warmly, patting me on the shoulder.

"I'm not that person anymore. What happened at the Watchtower proves that," I replied gloomily.

"We all make mistakes, especially when we're young. You carried a heavy burden back then," Alfred said reassuringly. "Feel free to make yourself at home."

"Are you familiar with him?" Robin asked, surprised.

"I was, but my memory of him was erased. I'm not sure if he remembers me," I replied sadly.

Silence filled the car, and we continued our journey quietly. From a distance, I spotted Wayne Manor, but we turned in another direction. Suddenly, the ground began to open up, revealing a passageway carved into the mountain. As soon as we drove inside, the gates closed behind us. The tunnel was long, and it took some time to reach our destination.

When the car finally stopped, the cabin opened, revealing the Batcave. We had parked on a central platform surrounded by an array of advanced technology, much of which I couldn't even begin to guess the purpose of. One path led to a massive computer console. I had thought the Watchtower's system was impressive, but this was on another level—dozens of monitors of various sizes, paired with a vast array of equipment. On the opposite side, a display case showcased an assortment of suits in different colors and designs.

As I stared in awe, I didn't notice that everyone else had already stepped out of the car. When I finally followed, Bruce was already lying on a medical bed, hooked up to various devices. Nightwing stood by his side, Batgirl was working at the computers, and Robin was nowhere to be seen.

My attention was drawn to an older man, and I needed a moment to recognize Alfred. He had aged significantly since I last saw him, though he still carried himself with dignity, his posture straight and his gaze steady. Approaching him, I saw that he extended his hand toward me.

"It's been a long time, Young Brian—or should I say, Mr. Brian?" he greeted me with a smile.

"You remember me?" I asked, shaking his hand.

"If you mean to ask whether I had forgotten you, the answer is yes—but the spell was lifted, and I remember you now. I recall how brave you were as a child, always ready to sacrifice yourself for others," Alfred said warmly, patting me on the shoulder.

"I'm not that person anymore. What happened at the Watchtower proves that," I replied gloomily.

"We all make mistakes, especially when we're young and carry heavy burdens," Alfred reassured me. "Feel free to make yourself at home."

Nodding, I decided to take a look at the computers. Back in my time, computers had just begun to emerge, and they weren't nearly as vivid or advanced. I cautiously approached Batgirl, standing beside her, and tried to make sense of what she was working on.

"I don't know how to create an antidote," she sighed, placing her head on her arms as she leaned over the desk.

"Maybe I can help?" I offered.

"How? Unless you're an expert in toxins and chemicals," she replied with a hint of irritation.

"No, I don't know much about that, but my body is perfectly adapted to any conditions. Joker's toxin doesn't affect me," I said.

Batgirl looked at me thoughtfully.

"You know, that might work. We can analyze your blood to see how your immunity counters the toxins," she said, retrieving a syringe from a nearby drawer. "Give me your arm."

I extended my arm, and she drew a sample of blood. Once she was done, she got back to work. Not wanting to disturb her, I decided to explore the cave. There was a lot to take in.

As I wandered through the cave, I was amazed by how Bruce had built all of this underground. My thoughts were interrupted by raised voices. Turning toward the source, I saw Bruce rising from the medical bed. I immediately headed in his direction.

"Nightwing, what's the situation?" I heard Bruce ask as I approached.

"Gas-filled missiles were launched across the country. Millions of people have been infected," Nightwing replied.

"Amusing," Bruce said unexpectedly. For a split second, I thought I saw a smirk on his face, but it quickly disappeared. "A terrible situation. Have you found an antidote?" he asked, his expression turning cold.

"Almost!" Batgirl shouted.

"That's not good enough," Bruce said, turning away from us for some reason. "We need to hurry," he added after a pause.

"Are you feeling all right?" Nightwing asked, seemingly noticing something off as well.

"Bruce, maybe you should use the antidote as soon as it's ready?" I suggested.

"Ah, Brian, you're here," Bruce said, acknowledging me for the first time. "Why did you even bother showing up?" he muttered under his breath, almost inaudibly. "Never mind that. We need to help the others. I'll finish the antidote."

Bruce walked over to the computer and began working. Nightwing subtly gestured for us to step aside. I understood the signal, and we moved a little farther away.

"Is it just me, or is something off with Bruce?" Nightwing whispered.

"Maybe he's still recovering from the toxin?" Batgirl suggested uncertainly, glancing at Bruce, who was working intensely at the computer.

"Could be, but I've never seen him like this before. Something seems... unhinged," Nightwing murmured.

"For now, let's keep an eye on him. If anything happens, we'll act," Batgirl added quietly.

We nodded and went about our tasks, waiting for the antidote to be completed. I stayed near Bruce, watching him work. He continued to analyze various samples while a progress bar labeled "Synthesis Process" slowly neared completion. Only a few percentage points remained.

After a few minutes, the screen flashed a message: "Synthesis Complete." Bruce jumped up and opened a drawer, pulling out a syringe filled with a bluish liquid.

"Synthesis complete. Everyone, gather in the main hall," Bruce commanded.

Everyone quickly abandoned their tasks and rushed over, even Robin appearing out of nowhere. Standing together as a group of five, we waited for Bruce. He climbed to a slightly higher platform, holding the syringe where we could all see it.

"When Joker caught me, he used a special toxin for which I had no antidote. I couldn't stop him, and he launched his missiles. In that moment, I lost control and attacked him, crossing a line. That's when Batman died," Bruce said, pausing dramatically. Then his expression twisted into a grin. "And I was born! Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

A chilling laugh echoed through the cave as Bruce began grinning broadly, baring his teeth. Then, he raised the antidote high and flung it to the ground. The vial shattered, and the antidote, which was supposed to save everyone, was gone.

"What are you doing?" Nightwing yelled, pulling out his baton and preparing to charge at Batman.

"Whatever I want! Ahaha!" Bruce replied through his laughter, reaching for his wrist device and pressing a button.

Walls around us began to rise, revealing rows of robots, their weapons aimed menacingly in our direction.

"Have fun, while I throw the League a little party," said the man who was clearly no longer Bruce. Turning away, he started to walk off.

Meanwhile, the robots closed in, surrounding us from all sides.