Godfather Owl: Guardian of Batman

The battlefield was set—Bruce faced an overwhelming challenge.

Two against one.

With Superman and the Merciless united, Bruce knew his odds were grim.

"So this is your warrior's honor?" Bruce asked evenly. "Is this what you've become, Merciless? A man who relies on manipulating others instead of fighting for himself?"

"Honor?" the Merciless echoed with a scoff. "That's meaningless to me. The only thing I care about is victory."

His eyes flickered past Bruce, scanning the battlefield as though searching for something hidden.

He knew his counterpart too well.

For Bruce to confront him so brazenly meant only one thing: he had an ace up his sleeve.

The Merciless was confident, but he wasn't a fool. He sent Superman in first, not as an insult to Bruce, but to uncover whatever trap the boy had prepared.

Meanwhile, Bruce cursed internally.

Kathoom, stop pretending! I know you're not unconscious!

A familiar voice finally rang in his mind, dripping with mock offense.

"What? I thought I was doing a great job acting!"

Kathoom's tone was light, though he was clearly enjoying himself. "Even the Merciless didn't notice! How did you figure it out?"

"Easy," Bruce replied, his patience wearing thin. "You always stick your tongue out when you're faking it—like some drowned ghost."

"Damn," Kathoom muttered. "I'll improve my technique next time."

Though his body remained limp, Kathoom spoke directly into Bruce's thoughts.

"By the way, you've noticed it by now, haven't you?"

"Noticed what?"

Bruce's eyes darted toward the cross where Kathoom was supposedly bound.

Something wasn't right.

"Wait a second—"

The realization hit him. Both crosses were nothing more than projections. Neither Diana nor Kathoom were truly there.

Bruce raised his hand, and Mjolnir shot toward him, passing cleanly through the illusion. The projections wavered and dissolved.

"So, you figured it out."

The Merciless smirked, waving his hand to dispel the holograms.

Did Bruce really think he'd leave such valuable hostages in plain sight?

"This was just a warning," the Merciless said smoothly. "They're being held somewhere far more secure.

"If you can defeat Superman, I'll allow you to save one of them. Choose wisely—Diana or the owl. The decision is yours."

"I already told you—I'm not choosing."

Bruce gripped Mjolnir tightly, turning his attention to Superman, who hovered nearby with cold, emotionless eyes.

"And you won't just stand idly by. You're as involved in this as I am, Merciless."

Before the Merciless could respond, a gust of wind whipped past his ear.

The metallic clang of steel rang out as he instinctively summoned his golden blade to block the incoming attack.

Sparks flew, and the Merciless turned to meet his assailant's gaze.

His expression froze.

"Diana."

Her name escaped his lips in a whisper, tinged with disbelief.

He didn't need further confirmation—he knew her face better than his own. This wasn't some illusion or mimicry.

This was his Diana.

"Hello again, Bruce."

Diana's smile was soft, but the blade of her sword was anything but. With a deft motion, she slashed toward his throat.

No words of reconciliation. No tearful reunion.

Her love for him was expressed in the heat of battle, in the clash of steel.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you," Diana said, her voice steady. "Allow me to show you... how deeply I care."

Her blade whistled through the air.

The Merciless countered with his own weapon, deflecting the strike. With his free hand, he lunged for Diana's neck.

He wanted to recreate their last moments—the scene forever etched in his memory—when Diana's life had ebbed away in his grasp.

"Not so fast!"

Diana's laughter rang out as her blade flared with radiant light.

The sudden burst of energy rippled outward, knocking the Merciless's weapon from his hand.

He stared at his empty palm, momentarily bewildered.

"You've grown stronger," he said, his tone almost admiring.

The Merciless flexed his fingers as if trying to recall the sensation of holding his blade.

But even as he analyzed her newfound strength, he spoke softly, as though confessing.

"Seeing you like this... I'm proud of you, Diana."

Diana scoffed.

"Don't flatter yourself. My strength comes from the desire to defeat you. That's all."

She tapped her Amazonian shield with her blade in challenge, her posture unyielding.

"Now, Bruce. Show me how you intend to respond."

"With my life, of course," the Merciless said coolly.

In a blur of motion, he closed the distance, abandoning his sword in favor of raw power.

His massive fist, augmented by divine strength, swung toward Diana with the force of a hurricane.

Diana met his attack head-on, her sword clashing against his fist. The impact sent a shockwave rippling across the floating island, cracking its foundation.

The two warriors locked in a stalemate, their powers evenly matched—at least for a moment.

The Merciless's body loomed over Diana's. Ever since donning the Helm of Ares, his stature had grown, dwarfing even the Amazonian princess.

"It seems I love you more than you love me," he taunted, his voice calm but relentless.

He pushed harder, and Diana's sword began to tremble under the pressure.

In terms of sheer strength, she was losing ground.

But Diana wasn't one to rely on brute force alone.

With a sharp twist, she broke the stalemate and reset the fight. Her blade danced in a blur of precise movements, cutting a path toward the Merciless's exposed flank.

But he remained unfazed.

"Did you forget, Diana?"

The Merciless remained fearless, summoning a sword from the void with a flick of his hand to parry Diana's attack.

"Every Amazonian technique—you've taught me all of it in the past," he said, his voice calm yet charged with menace.

With a deft twist of his blade, he deflected the Sword of Hephaestus, redirecting its arc and thrusting the tip toward Diana's exposed throat.

"I know," Diana countered, her Guardian Bracelets snapping upward to block the strike. The clash of metal sent a shockwave that hurled the Merciless back several meters.

"But you haven't seen what I've learned since then."

With a sharp cry, Diana slammed her wrists together. The sound of the impact resonated through the air, but this time, it wasn't the shockwave attack she was known for.

Instead, a silver sphere began to expand outward from her bracelets, its shimmering surface growing until it encompassed both Diana and the Merciless.

When the light subsided, the floating island and its stormy skies had vanished.

They now stood in an endless wasteland—a barren expanse of sand and swirling winds, devoid of life.

The Merciless looked around, a smirk curling on his lips as realization dawned.

"So, this is your plan?" he mused, running a hand through the hot, dry air. "A sealed-off domain where neither of us can use divine power? Clever, Diana."

"Isn't it?" Diana replied, gripping her sword tighter. Her gaze was steely, her intent unmistakable. "This ends here, Bruce."

The Merciless let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.

"You misunderstand. This doesn't weaken me—it liberates me."

Behind him, golden ripples began to form in the air, each one stretching and pulsing with energy.

Diana's eyes widened as weapons began to emerge from the ripples—swords, spears, axes, and more, each gleaming with an otherworldly light.

"Do you know what happened after you died?" the Merciless asked, his voice soft but cutting.

"I waged war on Olympus and every other godly realm. I slaughtered them all and claimed their treasures. These—" he gestured to the array of divine weapons "—are my trophies."

Diana's eyes flicked to the weapons, but she didn't hesitate. With a battle cry, she charged forward, her sword poised to strike.

But before she could close the distance, golden chains burst from the air, snaking around her arms, legs, and torso.

In mere seconds, she was immobilized, her weapons falling to the ground with a dull thud.

The chains lifted her into the air, leaving her suspended and vulnerable.

"The Chains of Heaven," the Merciless said, his tone dripping with mockery. "Forged to restrain divine beings. The stronger your godhood, the tighter their grip."

Diana struggled against the chains, but they only tightened, digging into her skin and forcing her to grit her teeth in pain.

"Bruce…" she growled, glaring at him.

The Merciless stepped closer, his expression softening as he looked into her defiant eyes.

"You've come back to me, only to throw yourself into my arms once more," he said, almost tenderly. "I can feel your love in this act of defiance, Diana. Let me show you mine."

With a snap of his fingers, a blade appeared in his hand—a shining longsword, its hilt adorned with angelic wings.

The Eternal Angel's Sword.

"Let this be my ultimate gift to you," he said, raising the blade high. "A release from this cruel world."

He plunged the sword downward, its edge aimed for Diana's heart.

But as the blade made contact, a sharp clang echoed through the air.

The Merciless frowned, looking down at his sword. It had struck something metallic beneath Diana's armor and failed to pierce her.

Before he could react further, the sky above the barren wasteland split open.

A figure hurtled through the rift, wielding a hammer wreathed in crackling energy.

Bruce descended with the force of a lightning strike, swinging Mjolnir directly at the Merciless.

The Merciless spun, his combat instincts razor-sharp, and caught the hammer's blow with his gauntleted arm. The impact sent a shockwave rippling across the sand.

"You're stronger than I expected."

He frowned as he looked at Bruce, whose face was filled with a grim determination. "Did you take down Superman that quickly?"

A thirteen-year-old Bruce, capable of defeating Superman so easily? Such a child's potential was truly boundless.

Bruce, undeterred by his incomplete strike, quickly retreated and positioned himself beside Diana.

Moments later, a shard of Thor's hammer floated out from the gap in Diana's chest armor, returning to its rightful place in the hammer.

"I don't fight meaningless battles," Bruce said softly. "To deal with Clark, all it takes is a helmet."

"A helmet?"

The Merciless looked puzzled. Was Bruce suggesting he placed the Helm of War on Superman?

That didn't make sense.

If Superman wore the Helm of War, he'd only grow more frenzied.

Bruce offered no explanation, and The Merciless certainly couldn't have known that in another world, Bruce and Kathoom had acquired a different helmet.

Magneto's helmet.

When worn, it nullified telepathic control—an effect that was practically divine when it came to dealing with Clark.

All Bruce needed was to summon the helmet with a summoning charm and place it on Clark. A pointless fight could be avoided entirely.

"It seems you're not willing to tell me. So be it."

The Merciless saw that Bruce wasn't about to elaborate and didn't dwell on it further. He instead readied himself for combat once more.

"You really should have discussed this with Diana in advance," The Merciless said with a smirk. "This domain she opened completely isolates the presence of divine power. That hammer of yours—surely it's no longer of much use?"

His sharp eyes instantly discerned the weakened state of Thor's hammer. Its power had been drastically diminished.

The lack of crackling lightning during their earlier clash was evidence enough.

It wasn't just a weapon; it seemed to carry a divine essence—perhaps granting its wielder the mantle of a god.

While this was normally a formidable trait, within this domain, it became a liability.

Bruce didn't deny the claim.

"You're right," Bruce admitted. "But this time, I don't plan on using Mjolnir against you."

He lifted the hammer. Although it was still riddled with cracks, it appeared whole.

It seemed Bruce had retrieved the missing shard from Superman's body, completing Mjolnir.

But that wasn't the case.

When Bruce restored Superman to his original state, he had indeed intended to reclaim the shard.

However, to his surprise, the missing piece of the hammer had somehow already been restored.

There was only one explanation for such an occurrence.

Bruce couldn't help but recall.

When he resurrected Wonder Woman, he had struck the Mother Box with Mjolnir.

Unbeknownst to him, the Mother Box had automatically repaired the hammer.

And now, the pressing question:

What exactly had the Mother Box used to fix it?

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T/N: CHAINS OF HEAVEN>??? KILL HIM KILL HIM NOWWWW