In DC/Young Justice with the Omnitrix/Ultimatrix and a Chat Group

The sleek black Bentley pulls up to the safe house precisely at eight o'clock the next morning.

I'm already waiting outside with my single bag, having had no desire to spend another minute in that surveillance-riddled apartment than necessary.

An elderly gentleman in an impeccable suit steps out of the driver's side. His posture is perfect, his expression composed but kind.

This must be Alfred Pennyworth, Batman's butler, confidant, and surrogate father figure.

"Mr. Morningstar, I presume," he says with a crisp British accent. "Alfred Pennyworth, at your service. I trust you're ready to depart?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," I reply, shouldering my bag.

He opens the rear passenger door with practiced elegance. "Master Bruce sends his apologies for not collecting you personally. A business matter required his attention this morning."

I slide into the luxurious interior. "I'm sure."

Alfred takes my bag and places it in the trunk before returning to the driver's seat.

As we pull away from the curb, I notice the two GCPD officers watching from the doorway, their expressions a mixture of relief and curiosity.

My protection detail is now someone else's responsibility.

"I understand this arrangement was rather... suddenly imposed upon you," Alfred says as we navigate through Gotham's morning traffic.

"I want to assure you that Wayne Manor offers both security and privacy. Your comfort is of genuine concern."

I study his profile in the rearview mirror. Alfred is being diplomatic, but I sense sincerity beneath the professional veneer. "Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth. I appreciate that."

"Alfred, please," he corrects gently. "We needn't stand on ceremony."

The drive takes us through Gotham's changing landscapes – from the cramped urban center to wealthier districts with progressively larger houses and greener spaces.

Finally, we turn onto a private road that winds through pristine woods before opening onto the grounds of Wayne Manor.

The mansion itself is breathtaking – a Gothic masterpiece of stone and stained glass, towers and turrets reaching skyward like something from another era.

Perfectly manicured gardens surround it, and in the distance, I can see the glittering surface of a small lake.

"Impressive," I murmur, unable to help myself.

"The Wayne family home for seven generations," Alfred informs me as we approach the circular driveway. "Though considerably modernized inside, I assure you."

We park before the massive front entrance, and Alfred leads me up the stone steps to a door that could have belonged to a medieval cathedral.

Inside, the foyer opens into a grand hall with a sweeping staircase, wood-paneled walls, and priceless artwork.

"Your room is in the east wing," Alfred explains, leading me up the stairs. "Master Bruce thought you might appreciate the privacy, as well as the proximity to the library and one of the studies that has been prepared for your use."

The east wing. Furthest from the master bedroom, I note, and likely from the entrance to the Batcave as well. Strategic.

My room turns out to be larger than my entire apartment, with a four-poster bed, antique furniture, and windows overlooking the gardens.

An adjoining bathroom features marble fixtures and a shower large enough for four people.

"I took the liberty of stocking the wardrobe with some essentials," Alfred says, opening a massive closet to reveal clothing in my size.

"If anything is not to your taste, we can certainly arrange alternatives."

I run my fingers over the expensive fabrics. "This is... very thorough."

"Master Bruce believes in proper preparation," Alfred replies with the slightest hint of dry humor. "The study is through here."

He leads me through a connecting door into what can only be described as a scientist's dream.

State-of-the-art computers, laboratory equipment, and technical references line the walls.

A large workstation dominates the center, with multiple monitors and specialized tools organized with military precision.

"This is for my use?" I ask, genuinely surprised by the generosity.

"Indeed. Master Bruce mentioned your research is important to you. He hoped this might make the transition less disruptive."

I approach the workstation, examining the equipment. It's all top-of-the-line, some of it custom-built and likely not available to the general public. "This is... unexpected."

Alfred's expression softens slightly. "Master Bruce can be rather... intense in his methods, but his intentions are genuine. He recognizes talent and potential when he sees it."

And wants to keep it where he can monitor it, I think but don't say.

"I'll leave you to settle in," Alfred continues. "Lunch will be served at noon in the small dining room, where Master Bruce hopes to join you.

In the meantime, please consider the manor your home. Though I would request you inform me before venturing onto the grounds, for security purposes."

After he leaves, I explore my new accommodations more thoroughly, checking for surveillance devices.

I find two – a camera disguised as a smoke detector in the study and another in the bedroom's light fixture.

Nothing in the bathroom, at least. More than I expected, less than I feared.

Yet, I expect there to be more, ones I have yet to find. These ones seem more like decoys.

I unpack my few belongings, placing my journal in a drawer of the nightstand. The clothes

Alfred provided are high quality but understated – jeans, t-shirts, button-downs, and sweaters in neutral colors. Nothing flashy or attention-grabbing. Practical.

At my workstation, I find all my research from GSI already loaded onto the computers, along with additional references and resources I hadn't had access to before.

Bruce Wayne has been thorough in his preparations for my arrival.

I spend the morning familiarizing myself with the new equipment and reviewing my research.

The quiet of the manor is different from the constant background noise of my apartment building – deeper, older somehow.

Occasionally I hear distant footsteps or the faint sounds of Alfred working somewhere in the vast house.

At precisely noon, a gentle knock at my door announces Alfred. "Lunch is served, Mr. Morningstar."

He leads me through a maze of corridors to a "small" dining room that could comfortably seat twelve.

Bruce Wayne is already there, dressed in a casual but clearly expensive sweater and slacks, reading something on a tablet.

He looks up as I enter, setting the tablet aside. "Samael. I hope you're finding everything satisfactory."

"The lab is impressive," I acknowledge, taking a seat across from him.

"Good. I had it set up based on the equipment you were using at GSI, with some improvements." He gestures to Alfred, who begins serving a light lunch of soup and sandwiches.

"I understand you'll want to continue your work there, which we can certainly arrange."

"I appreciate that," I say carefully. "Continuity is important for the research."

Bruce nods. "We should discuss expectations going forward. This situation is unusual for both of us."

"That's one way of putting it."

A hint of a smile touches his lips. "Direct. Good. Let me be equally direct. You're here because your safety requires it and because your abilities need proper guidance.

I'm not trying to control you, but I do need to ensure you don't pose a danger to yourself or others."

"And my research?" I ask. "Will that be subject to your approval as well?"

"I'd prefer to think of it as collaboration rather than approval," he replies smoothly. "Your work has significant potential, but also significant risks.

My resources and experience can help mitigate those risks."

I take a sip of water, considering my response. "And what do you get out of this arrangement, Mr. Wayne? Beyond the satisfaction of civic responsibility?"

His expression remains neutral, but something sharpens in his gaze. "I believe in nurturing talent, Samael.

Especially in those who demonstrate both intelligence and ethical consideration. Your actions with the Joker showed both."

"Despite being 'manipulated' by him, as you put it?"

"You were in an impossible situation and made the best choices available to you," Bruce acknowledges.

"You prioritized the hostages' safety while sabotaging the Joker's plan. That shows character."

Alfred returns with coffee, placing a cup before each of us before discreetly withdrawing.

"Let me be clear about my expectations," Bruce continues. "You'll attend school – Gotham Academy has already been arranged.

You'll continue your research at GSI under Dr. Chen's supervision and can use the lab here for your personal projects.

You'll adhere to a reasonable curfew and inform Alfred or myself of your whereabouts at all times."

"And the Ultimatrix?" I ask directly, he can't take it, but I'd rather keep the illusion that it can.

"Remains yours to use responsibly," he confirms. "Though I would appreciate a demonstration of its capabilities in a controlled environment, for safety purposes."

I consider this request. A demonstration would reveal more about my abilities but might also establish trust. "I can arrange that."

"Good." Bruce takes a sip of his coffee. "One more thing – I occasionally host social events here at the manor. Your attendance won't always be required, but when it is, I'd appreciate your cooperation."

"Playing the part of the ward?" I ask with a touch of sarcasm.

"Playing the part of someone who understands the value of strategic appearances," he corrects.

"In Gotham, perception matters. If you're seen as integrated into normal social circles, it reduces unwanted attention."

He has a point, though I don't particularly like it. "Fine. But I draw the line at charity galas."

This actually draws a small smile from him. "We'll negotiate those on a case-by-case basis."

The rest of lunch passes with discussion of practical matters – my schedule at Gotham Academy, transportation arrangements, access to various parts of the manor.

Bruce is thorough but not unreasonable, and I find myself reluctantly impressed by his attention to detail.

Yet I remain wary. This is the most paranoid man in the Omniverse, and I'll take any supposed autonomy, and privacy promise he gives with a bottle of salt.

After lunch, Bruce excuses himself for a business meeting, leaving me to explore the manor further.

Alfred offers to give me a tour, which I accept, partly out of curiosity and partly to map the layout of my new prison/home.

The manor is even larger than it appears from outside, with dozens of rooms spanning three main floors.

Alfred shows me the main library (a two-story affair with rolling ladders and first editions), the formal dining room (which could seat thirty), several sitting rooms, a music room with a grand piano, and a surprisingly modern kitchen where he clearly reigns supreme.

"The west wing contains Master Bruce's quarters and some rarely used guest rooms," Alfred explains as we walk.

"The lower level houses the gym, pool, and some storage areas. The grounds extend for nearly two miles in each direction, including the lake and woods you might have glimpsed on arrival."

He doesn't mention the Batcave, of course, though I'm certain it's accessible somewhere nearby.

I make mental notes of possible locations – the study with the grandfather clock seems the most likely candidate based on what I know of Batman lore.

"And security?" I ask casually.

"State-of-the-art," Alfred replies without elaboration. "Master Bruce values his privacy, as I'm sure you can appreciate."

Translation: Don't try to sneak out or access restricted areas.

"Of course," I say with a nod. "Thank you for the tour, Alfred. It's quite an impressive home."

"Indeed. Though sometimes I find myself missing the days when it felt more like a home than a museum." There's a hint of melancholy in his tone that seems genuine. "Perhaps your presence will bring some youth back to these halls."

I'm not sure how to respond to that, so I simply nod politely.

Back in my room, I spend the afternoon setting up my workstation to my preferences and reviewing the course materials for Gotham Academy, which will apparently be starting tomorrow.

The curriculum seems advanced but not challenging for someone with my knowledge base.

As evening approaches, the air in the manor shifts subtly. Alfred brings dinner to my room – "Master Bruce sends his apologies, but business in the city will keep him late" – and I understand that Batman is now on patrol.

I use the opportunity to test the limits of my monitored freedom, exploring the east wing more thoroughly, checking for additional surveillance, and trying to map the manor's security systems without triggering them.

It's an interesting intellectual exercise, and I learn quite a bit about Wayne's security protocols in the process.

Around midnight, I hear the distant sound of a car engine – likely the Batmobile returning to the cave.

I retreat to my room, not wanting to be caught wandering the halls at this hour. Better to pick my battles carefully.

As I prepare for bed, I consider my new situation. Living with Batman presents both challenges and opportunities.

The restrictions on my freedom are frustrating, but the capabilities now available to me are considerable. Its not about resources for I can obtain those with my intelligent aliens - no its about connections.

Batman is one of the most trusted superheros out there in terms of morality. Sure he makes contingencies for everyone, but some people, like Superman even respect him for it.

I can use that reputation to slowly integrate myself into the hero framework. Slowly build allies, trust and the like.

Not everyone has as firm of a moral code as the Bat and eventually, I'll perhaps be able to make my own team, given the opportunities to meet superpowered individuals, be they heroes or villains.

I'm in essence going to pull an Aizen.

It is quite convenient thought that I have the man to talk to since he can provide quite the insight - so long as the System forces his hand to do so, for none of us yet wish to test its consequences.

In the end though, the key is patience – earning trust gradually while gathering information and developing my own capabilities.

Batman may be the world's greatest detective, but he's not infallible. And I have advantages he doesn't know about yet.

As I get into my bed I know that I can do this.

I know that eventually, no one will be able to stop me.

Yes, I will find a way back to my own home, and I will fix the worlds - as is my responsibility and right as the one with the greatest means to do it.

I will bring justice.

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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all liked the chapter!

Do tell me how you found it?

Yeah, this Samael and Bats aren't gonna bond exactly like Marvel Samael and Kingpin did.

Their values contradict too much.

In the future they'll probably have a Redhood and Batman type relationship without as much drama and without Batman being seen as much in the right by the world.

So yeah, do tell me how you found it and I hope to see you all later,

Bye!)