"Dinosaurs invaded Manhattan, and our so-called 'righteous' Spider-Man was nowhere to be found."
"Now that terrorists have hidden bombs all over Manhattan, does Spider-Man still intend to stay in hiding?"
"Let the Daily Bugle expose Spider-Man's true face for you! We need a real hero—Batman!"
In the Editor-in-Chief's office of the Daily Bugle, J. Jonah Jameson was quite pleased with the slogans he had concocted. He nodded to the staff members standing before him.
"Go. Get this printed in the paper exactly as I said."
"Mr. Jameson, I think Spider-Man hasn't shown up for two months. He might have given up on being a superhero long ago," said Bailey, the Bugle's resident buxom beauty—the same woman Eddie Brock had been lusting after for some time.
"Oh, he gave up on being a superhero?" Jameson took a deep drag of his cigar and wagged a finger at Bailey. "First of all, he isn't a superhero; he's just a masked menace."
Bailey started to speak but hesitated. Jameson continued:
"That was the Spider-Man spread. Now, let's draft a set for Batman. Write it like this..."
"'A pathetic imitator of Spider-Man. More than fifty thousand people have called for Batman to surrender. The public needs Spider-Man, not a Joker!'"
Bailey was in no mood to flirt with her colleagues. On one hand, there were the bombs Garrett had planted across Manhattan; on the other, there was the fact that Jameson had been married for years, and his daughter was nearly her age.
"Jameson, we need evidence before we can publish this. Besides, aren't the stories about Spider-Man and Batman contradictory?" Bailey asked.
"What we need is an eye-catching headline! A headline! Do you understand?!" Jameson shouted, his temper flaring. "Contradictory? To hell with that! Just do as I say!"
As he spoke, he propped his legs up on his large mahogany desk and waved Bailey off, shooing her out of the office.
"Unreasonable..." Bailey muttered, shaking her head as she pushed the door open and left.
On the streets outside the Manhattan Police Department, a large crowd of people carrying umbrellas had gathered at some unknown point. Some were dressed in business suits, while others wore grease-stained work clothes.
Not everyone chose to stay indoors. Many chose to leave their buildings, heading for open spaces in hopes of surviving this man-made disaster.
The bridges stretching from Manhattan to the other boroughs were currently jammed with vehicles. Every driver wished they could sprout wings and fly out of the city.
Students were huddled together on school athletic fields, their youthful faces drenched by the rain. In hospitals, doctors and nurses worked desperately to transfer patients.
But Manhattan was vast. No one knew where Garrett had hidden the bombs, and no one could guarantee that the places they were moving to were actually safe.
Panic began to spread. From Upper Manhattan to Lower Manhattan, from Hell's Kitchen to Wall Street, everyone stared out their windows with heavy hearts.
Commissioner George Stacy stood on the roof, looking down at the crowd in the street below.
"I trusted Garrett before because he worked so hard to deal with those dinosaurs. He helped me handle the aftermath of the invasion and didn't even hesitate to show his face at the precinct."
"But now, another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, Phil Coulson, says that S.H.I.E.L.D. never dispatched any transport planes. Between him and Garrett, someone is lying."
"No matter who it is, I'd rather assume the worst—that Garrett is a terrorist. His target may indeed be Batman, but if Batman doesn't show, he really might detonate those bombs."
Commissioner Stacy stood in the pouring rain. He wore a fedora, and water cascaded off the brim in sheets.
"Now I have to make a choice. Continue to trust Garrett like the rest of the NYPD, or trust the Bat."
Stacy forced himself to choose, though the moment he stepped onto the roof, he was already past the point of hesitation.
Rip!
Commissioner Stacy pulled the tarp off the massive Bat-Signal. He reached out, grabbed the lever, and slammed it down.
With a heavy clunk, the massive searchlight flickered to life. The yellow beam shot upward at an angle into the pitch-black clouds, projecting a circular Bat emblem.
Stacy was using his limited intelligence to gamble on whether Batman was someone worth trusting.
If he was right, he'd save Manhattan. If he was wrong, he'd go to prison right alongside the Bat.
Looking up at the symbol in the clouds, a flicker of anxiety crossed Stacy's eyes.
Time ticked by. As Garrett's three-hour deadline drew near, the heavy rain showed no signs of stopping.
Commissioner Stacy stood there in the rain, waiting for Batman to appear. He didn't move an inch.
Inside the Batcave.
Batman had finished his research on the omni-wave projector. Just as Venom Robin thought he would begin the plan, he saw the "Old Bat" standing by the Batmobile, modifying it until it was unrecognizable.
In the meantime, Batman had also taken a moment to cordon off a separate area of the Batcave to house Black Widow, who was still wearing her metal mask.
If it weren't for the fact that the streets of Manhattan were currently swarming with people, Venom Robin might have thought this was just another ordinary day.
"Old Bat, the Bat-Signal is on," Venom Robin said.
Batman nodded and stood up. "It's ready."
Venom Robin was a bit confused. "What's ready?"
"The preparations are complete," Batman told him. "It's time to move."
Venom Robin frowned as he looked at Batman. He felt something was off.
When he saw Batman using mechanical arms to modify the Batmobile—instead of lifting equipment weighing a mere seven or eight hundred kilograms by hand—his heart sank.
Whoosh!
Venom Robin suddenly stepped forward and grabbed Batman's arm. He immediately realized what the problem was.
"You lost your powers?"
Batman nodded.
"Are you planning to give up on stopping Garrett?" Venom Robin asked.
"No."
"Without your powers, how are you going to stop him? By sitting here in the Batcave?" Venom Robin's voice rose.
"Without the power of Spider-Man, I am still Batman." Faced with the questioning, Batman didn't get angry. Instead, he smiled again.
"What are you smiling at?" Venom Robin looked at that infuriating smile and wanted to tear it off his face.
Batman was smiling from the bottom of his heart. For a long time, Spider-Man's various abilities had been a source of extreme anxiety for him; he had to be constantly vigilant against himself.
But now that the power was gone, Batman felt a great weight lift from his mind.
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