DC: My Name Is Not Billy Batson [New]

Wayne Manor

Bruce and Hush faced off Nearby, Barbara had been knocked down by a sneak attack, collapsing to the side. Alfred lay in a coma, and Nightwing—now a hostage—was in the hands of Hush.

"What the hell do you want?" Bruce demanded, his voice cold.

Hush held Nightwing tightly, saying nothing. Instead, he suddenly fired a shot. The bullet struck Batman's suit, forcing him a step back.

"It's so stiff," Hush muttered, clicking his tongue as he lowered the pistol. His gaze shifted to Barbara, and a sinister grin spread across his bandaged face.

"I didn't think you'd stand up again, Miss Barbara Gordon."

the demeanor—it was unmistakable. Barbara's eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at Hush, She stammered, "No... impossible. its is impossible! You should've died a long time ago..."

Hush laughed darkly. "A shame, isn't it? Honey, I'm back from hell! Did you miss me? Hahahaha!"

His maniacal laughter echoed through the room. In that moment, Hush's morphed in Barbara's mind, overlapping with that of the Prince of Crime.

Barbara shivered, curling up. Despite her resolve to grow stronger after her injury, her strength faltered.

But Batman remained focused, he was look for an opportunity, and finally, he have it. As Hush laughed uncontrollably, Batman hurled a batarang, striking Hush's wrist.

With a pained cry, Hush dropped the pistol. Dane watched the scene unfold and shook his head in silent amusement. Why is every villain so predictable?

Batman advanced, flurry of blows. Despite his bravado, Hush's combat skills were little more than street brawling—no match for Batman's mastery. Within minutes, Hush was on the ground, defeated so effortlessly that even Bruce felt disbelief.

"Was that it?" he muttered under his breath. But it wasn't over. With growing suspicion, Batman reached down and tore away the bandages concealing Hush's face.

"Bruce? What... how did you end up here?"

Thomas Elliot's face stared back, his expression dazed and confused. He glanced around, then down at himself.

"Wait... why am I here? Damn, this hurts!" His features twisted, then change into a sinister grin.

"Little bat... surprise! Hahaha, can't you believe it? It's me!"

"Joker?"

Bruce faltered. For a moment, he couldn't tell if the man before him was acting or genuinely torn between two identities.

"No, Bruce, what's going on? What's happening to me?"

Thomas's demeanor flipped back to confusion. Yet in the next moment, the sinister Joker grin returned, along with his mocking laughter. Batman struggled to remain composed.

"Calm down!" he stepping forward to subdue Hush.

"Calm down? Oh, little bat," the Joker's voice purred through Thomas's mouth, "don't you want to know what's rattling around inside this poor guy's head?"

Batman Grabbing Hush by the collar, he growled, "What did you do?"

The Joker persona pretended to ponder the question, then smirked.

"Tell me, little bat, what happens when you play with a brain doctor?"

From the sidelines, Barbara flinched but forced herself to act. Pushing past her fear, she retrieved an scanner and examined Nightwing.

 "Bruce... there's a intense reaction inside his brain!"

The Joker cackled triumphantly. "That's right! A lovely little surprise—a miniature bomb! Took me ages to find the perfect spot to plant it..."

Batman punched Hush square in the face, his anger echoing the same grief he'd felt when Jason died.

"Ah, that nostalgic anger!" the Joker sneered, blood trickling down his mouth. "Your fists... they'll never change anything, little bat."

The maniacal grin and chilling laugh confirmed what Bruce already feared—the Joker was somehow alive, possessing Hush. That madness, etched deep into his soul, was unmistakable.

"What do you want to do?"

The Joker tilted his head, grinning maliciously. "Do you know how I was resurrected?" he replied, answering a question no one had asked.

"You'd never guess—it's my blood. I call it the Clown Virus.

As I said, little bat, the Joker is a virus—one Gotham can't get rid of. I live with this city, thrive with it. Can you cure the flu, Batman? No. And just like the flu, you can't get rid of me."

His laughter echoed as he raised his arms dramatically. "Now, I'm not limited by a physical body!"

Clown Virus! Batman's face darkened. If the Joker was telling the truth, this made him nearly immortal. But the Joker wasn't done. His eyes glinted with something more sinister as he leaned closer.

"When I realized my blood was so... special, I couldn't help but think of Scarecrow. Ah, he died too soon. A pity, really. So I had to finish what he started myself."

After feigning a nostalgic sigh, the Joker's grin widened.

"I picked up that device he tinkered with—the one he almost perfected. What's it called again? Oh, right..."

Batman growled, "Storm-dispersal device."

"Exactly!" the Joker exclaimed with a snap of his fingers. "I fixed it!"

He leaned back, almost reveling in his own brilliance. "Just imagine it, little bat. My blood spreading across Gotham, creating countless versions of me! Doesn't it sound lively? Hahahaha!"

The very thought sent shivers down Batman's spine. Barbara paled at the Joker's words, her expression grim. And then, the Joker, holding up two fingers.

"Now, you've got two choices, little bat."

He glanced at Nightwing, a wicked grin splitting his face.

"Option one: shut down that machine and save Gotham once again. Or..." He gestured towards the unconscious Nightwing. "You can save this poor boy here."

He smirked as he continued, "In fifteen minutes, one of them will go boom. Let me remind you, the remote control for the bomb in his brain? It's hidden somewhere in this manor."

The Joker's said in mocking whisper. "Time's ticking, Batman. What will you choose?"

Batman froze, torn. Barbara quickly pulled Nightwing towards the Batcave, her voice snapping him back to reality.

"Bruce!"

His eyes refocused. He looked at her, his voice betraying uncharacteristic panic. "What?"

"That bomb in Dick's head... we can't remove it. Not with what we have. Not in fifteen minutes!"

Her voice cracked as the weight of the situation sank in. Fifteen minutes... or less now.

Wayne Manor was big, and finding the remote control in time felt impossible. Batman closed his eyes briefly, his jaw clenched in exhaustion. He made his decision.

"Barbara," he said firmly, "pull up all the surveillance in the manor. Try... try to locate the remote."

Barbara asked. "And you? What about you?"

"I'll stop the rain."

This was Batman: a man who always made the logical choice, even when he seemed ruthless.

The Joker cackled, applauding mockingly. "Ah, classic little bat. Always predictable. I knew you'd choose that!"

Despite his earlier words, the Joker wasn't satisfied. Seeing Batman's struggle only fueled his glee. But then, before Bruce could leave, a shadow emerged.

"Dane," Batman muttered, narrowing his eyes.

The Joker sneered in disgust. "You again?"

Dane stepped forward, blocking Batman's path.

"Where are you going?" Dane asked.

"To stop the spread of the Clown Virus," Batman replied without hesitation.

Dane smirked. "No need. I've found the remote."

Batman whipped around, "What did you say?"

Dane didn't waste time. He pointed at the Joker, or rather, the Hush body he had hijacked.

"The remote? It's in his heart. Stop his heart, and Dick will be saved. That gives you plenty of time to deal with the rain."

Batman froze, Dane stepped closer. "So now, it's your turn to make a choice, Batman. Kill this madman—this sociopathic criminal—and save them both. Or stick to your code and risk losing one of them."

The Joker grinned, leaning into Dane's words.

"What's it going to be, little bat? Hahaha!"

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