SON OF BATMAN

The Batcave was shrouded in a tense silence, the kind that precedes a storm.

The Justice League stood in a loose semicircle, their eyes locked on the young man before them.

The realization that this was Bruce Wayne's son had hit them hard, but what unsettled them even more, was the fact that he was able to enter the Batcave and get in behind them without any of them noticing.

They examined the individual before them.

Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne's son, stood tall and imposing, dressed entirely in black, his presence commanding attention. A long black coat hung open, revealing a tight-fitting black shirt underneath. The shirt clung to his well-defined physique like a second skin, accentuating the powerful muscles of his chest and abdomen. His look was completed with black pants and high boots, each piece meticulously tailored to showcase his physical prowess while adding to his dark, formidable presence.

His once-black hair had turned an unnatural white, blending with his pale skin in a way that gave him an eerie, yet strikingly attractive appearance, an air of dark mystery that only seemed to enhance his allure. On top of that, his pitch-black eyes were unsettling, like deep voids that seemed to absorb the light around him.

The Justice League hadn't heard of Damian before, and they certainly hadn't been expecting to meet Bruce Wayne's son—especially not in these circumstances.

The shock of his sudden appearance was still fresh in their minds, and the eerie silence of the Batcave only amplified the tension.

Alfred and Dick Grayson, the only ones who knew Damian, stood slightly apart from the others. Their furrowed brows and tense postures betrayed their shock at the significant changes in Damian's appearance and demeanor.

The air in the Batcave grew thick with unease. Even the seasoned heroes of the Justice League found themselves shifting uncomfortably under Damian's cold gaze. Superman's jaw clenched, Wonder Woman's hand instinctively tightened on her lasso, and Cyborg's electronic eye whirred as it analyzed the newcomer.

Damian had always been a serious child, hardened by his upbringing under Ra's al Ghul and the League of Assassins, but now, there was something even colder about him, something bloody.

His eyes, once a striking green, were now pitch black, like deep, endless voids.

He had grown taller, surpassing even Bruce in height, and his frame had filled out, giving him a formidable presence.

The boy who had once been Robin was gone, replaced by this formidable, almost unrecognizable figure.

The Justice League, found themselves momentarily unnerved.

They had faced gods and monsters, but there was something about Damian's presence that made them pause. Perhaps it was the way he held himself, a quiet confidence that spoke of lethal skill. Or perhaps it was the void in his eyes, a reminder of the darkness he had been forged in.

Beyond the tension, there was also a deep emotional undercurrent, one that was most palpable in the quiet figure of Alfred Pennyworth.

The butler's eyes glistened with unshed tears, his normally composed demeanor cracking under the weight of seeing the boy he once cared for now a man.

Alfred, who had served the Wayne family for decades, felt a surge of emotion as he looked at Damian.

Alfred had lived through the deaths of two generations of Waynes, and now, as he stood before the third, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the years pressing down on him.

Unable to hold back his emotions any longer, Alfred stepped forward. His expression softening as he addressed the young man.

"Young Master Wayne," Alfred began, his voice carrying a tone of gentle familiarity, "it's been quite some time."

Damian's gaze softened just a fraction as he looked at Alfred. "Pennyworth," he acknowledged with a slight nod, his voice carrying a hint of respect.

The Justice League watched as the elderly butler, his face lined with grief and memories, approached Damian.

Gently, Alfred placed his hands on Damian's shoulders, his eyes searching the young man's face, noting every change, every sign of growth.

"You've grown so much, Young Master Wayne," Alfred said softly, his voice trembling slightly. "But I see… I see so much of your father in you."

The tension in the room seemed to pause as Alfred, overcome by a mixture of sadness and pride, and without warning, he pulled Damian into an embrace.

The Justice League watched, transfixed, as Damian stood rigid for a moment before his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly.

Damian, though not one for displays of affection, stood still and allowed the embrace. His black eyes softened for just a moment as he looked at the man who had been a constant presence in his life, a figure of stability in a world of chaos.

When Alfred finally released him, Damian simply nodded, acknowledging the emotion but not lingering on it. His gaze then shifted to Dick Grayson, who had been watching the exchange with a mix of emotions.

Dick, who had once trained Damian as Robin, took a step forward. The love-hate relationship between them was well-known—built on mutual respect and rivalry, with an underlying bond that was as close as brothers could get.

"Damian," Dick said, his voice a blend of warmth and the usual teasing tone he reserved for his younger sibling, "you've grown."

Damian met his gaze with a smirk. "Yeah, that's what happens when you get older, dumbass."

Dick froze, the corner of his mouth twitched, but instead of being annoyed, he let out a chuckle, shaking his head. "Well, at least your smart-ass mouth hasn't changed."

The brief exchange brought a momentary lightness to the atmosphere, the tension in the room easing slightly. However, after having exchanged words with Alfred and Dick, Damian turned his attention to the rest of the Justice League, and the air grew heavy once more.

His black eyes swept over each member, scrutinizing them with a cold, calculating gaze.

His focus lingered on Superman, and after a moment, Damian stepped forward, closing the distance until he was standing directly in front of the Man of Steel.

Damian, taller than Superman by a few inches, looked down at him, their gazes locking in a silent standoff. Superman's stance widened imperceptibly, his body tensing in response to the unspoken challenge.

After a long pause, Damian finally spoke, his voice low and devoid of emotion. "You're smaller than I thought you'd be."

With that, Damian walked past Superman without looking back, his steps deliberate as he moved toward the central console.

The Justice League exchanged bewildered glances, their shock at Damian's audacity evident in their wide eyes and slack jaws. Wonder Woman's eyebrows shot up, while Flash's mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Cyborg's mechanical eye flickered in disbelief, and Aquaman crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes as he processed Damian's boldness.

Everyone present had the exact same thought. 'Did he just say that to Superman?'

The Justice League watched Damian closely, their expressions a mix of caution and curiosity. Damian reached the main chair, the one Bruce had used countless times, and sat down. Leaning back slightly, his hands still in his coat pockets, he turned to face the group.

"Now then," Damian said, his voice cutting through the silence, "who's going to fill me in on what happened?"

Wonder Woman stepped forward, her presence calm yet commanding. She met Damian's gaze steadily.

"First of all, I would like to express my condolences for your loss," she began, her voice carrying the weight of sincerity.

"I'm truly sorry. As for What happened… it's a long story."

Damian raised an eyebrow, his expression unchanging.

"We have time," he replied coolly. "Unless, of course, you have somewhere else you need to be."

The challenge in his tone was clear, but Wonder Woman remained unfazed. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she maintained her composure.

She began recounting the events that had led to Bruce's death, explaining who Steppenwolf was, the threat of the Mother Boxes, and the desperate battle that had ensued to stop the invasion of Earth.

The Justice League remained silent, watching as Damian listened intently, his expression unreadable.

"…and in the end," Wonder Woman finished, her voice tinged with sorrow, "your father—Bruce—sacrificed himself to stop Darkseid from coming through the portal. He saved us all."

Damian sat quietly for a moment, absorbing the weight of what had been said. His fingers drummed softly on the armrest of the chair. The rhythmic tapping was the only sound in the cavernous space, echoing off the walls and adding to the tension. His posture was relaxed, but his mind was clearly racing, piecing together the information.

After a brief pause, Damian's voice cut through the silence, direct and focused. "How was father able to turn this Darkseid to stone?"

Cyborg stepped forward, his expression serious as he answered. "From what we could tell, your father had some kind of artifact or tool in his hand when he confronted Darkseid. After he used it, the artifact disappeared… disintegrated, really. As for where he got it from, or what exactly it was… we don't know."

Damian's brow furrowed slightly, his eyes narrowing as he processed this information. His eyes narrowed as he considered the implications, but he pushed those thoughts aside for the moment. His fingers ceased their tapping, curling instead into a loose fist as he asked another question, his tone calm but inquisitive. "Who is this Darkseid?"

Wonder Woman took a deep breath, her expression darkening as she prepared to explain. "Darkseid is not just a powerful being—he's a tyrant, a god in his own right. He rules over Apokolips, a hellish world, and leads an army of Parademons and other monstrous beings. His goal is simple: to conquer and subjugate planets across the universe. He invades worlds, massacres their inhabitants, and enslaves the survivors."

"And this guy now set his sights on Earth?" Damian said, his voice flat.

Wonder Woman nods and continues, "Darkseid is relentless. He's one of the most dangerous beings we've ever encountered. If he's set his sights on Earth, it means he sees something here that he wants… and he won't stop until he gets it. Your father's sacrifice this time bought us some time, but Darkseid will return"

The atmosphere in the Batcave grew heavier, the weight of Wonder Woman's words settling over them like a suffocating blanket. The Justice League members exchanged grim looks, the gravity of their situation etched in the lines of their faces.

For a moment, no one spoke, the silence amplifying the sense of dread that had taken hold.

It was Dick Grayson who finally broke the silence, his voice calm but firm as he steered the conversation back to more immediate concerns.

"First, we need to take care of the matter at hand," Dick said, his eyes shifting to Damian. "We need to decide what to do, whether to announce Bruce Wayne's death or Batman's."

Damian remained seated for a few moments, his expression cold and composed. But despite the stoic facade he presented, the others could see a flicker of deep sorrow in his eyes, a raw pain that no amount of training could fully conceal. The weight of his loss was palpable, even if he tried to bury it beneath his hardened exterior.

Finally, Damian stood up, his movements deliberate and measured. He walked over to the stairs to the upper level and began to climb them.

The Justice League watched him in silence as he ascended to the upper level. There, lined up in pods, were the various suits Bruce had worn over the years, along with the suit that Damian and Dick Grayson had once donned as Robin.

As Damian reached the top of the stairs, his gaze first landed on the Robin suit, the one he had worn when he was still a boy. He gave it a glance, a flicker of recognition passing over his features, but he didn't linger. His attention soon shifted to the Batman suit, standing tall and imposing in its pod.

Damian stood in front of the Batman suit, staring at it with an intensity that made the room feel even more oppressive. Down below, the others watched him, the weight of the decision looming over them.

Dick Grayson, who had been watching Damian closely, spoke up again. "I think we should keep Batman alive," he said, his voice carrying the conviction of someone who had been through this before. "We don't have to announce Batman's death. One of us can wear the suit, just like we did that time years ago. We kept up the appearance that Batman was still out there, protecting Gotham. It worked then… it could work now. It would keep the villains at bay."

Damian remained silent, his eyes still fixed on the Batman suit. The moments stretched out, the silence broken only by the distant drip of water echoing through the cave.

Finally, Damian spoke, his voice calm but resolute. "There's no need."

He turned slightly, his gaze still locked on the suit. "The Batman has had enough. He should rest."

The words hung in the air, carrying with them a finality that left no room for argument.

Damian turned back to face the group, his eyes cold and determined, though the sorrow within them had not fully receded. "Batman died saving Earth. As for Bruce Wayne… When necessary, I'll take on that role for now."

The Justice League exchanged glances, understanding the weight of Damian's decision. The Batcave, filled with the echoes of past battles and memories, seemed to grow even quieter as Damian's resolve set in.

A new chapter was beginning, one filled with uncertainty, but Damian Wayne was ready to step into the role that awaited him.