Ant-Man wasn't the least bit afraid of giving Batman a month to replicate the Pym Particles.
Did he think his name was Reed Richards?
Even if Reed, the guy dubbed the smartest man alive, were here himself, Ant-Man didn't believe for a second that he could replicate Pym Particles in such a short window of time.
"If you can't do it, not only do you have to return those two vials of Pym Particles, but you'll also have to take off that mask and let me see what your damn face actually looks like," Ant-Man sneered, staring at Batman. "And after that, I will petition the World Security Council to have you arrested so you can spend the rest of your life in the Ant-Farm."
Janet van Dyne, the Wasp, reached out and tugged at Ant-Man's arm.
"Hank, don't."
"Hmph," Ant-Man scoffed, turning his head aside.
But a few seconds later, he turned back around.
"You said earlier there's a ninety percent probability that I'm not Hydra? What about the remaining ten percent?"
Batman nodded and looked at Janet.
"Pen and paper, please."
Ant-Man and the Wasp exchanged a look. The latter didn't say anything, turning to leave. A moment later, she returned with a pen and paper and handed them to Batman.
Batman rapidly sketched a tall figure holding a shield on the paper. Then, pressing a finger against the page, he flicked it, sending it flying toward Ant-Man.
"Do you recognize him?"
"Captain America?" Ant-Man blurted out instinctively the moment he saw the sketch.
"No, it's not him," Janet leaned in to take a look and shook her head. "It looks a lot like him, but I don't think it's Captain America."
"True, that guy's been dead for decades." Ant-Man looked up at Batman. "Are you sure your drawing is accurate?"
Batman nodded. The portrait he drew was based entirely on Silver Sable's previous description, without adding or omitting a single detail.
Ant-Man scrutinized the dark figure on the paper once more. After pondering for a long while, he spoke:
"Everyone knows Captain America's shield has a star in the center. He even has the star embroidered on his chest... and I don't think anyone wouldn't recognize him, even if he's been dead for a long time."
Batman remained silent.
Although Batman wasn't from this world, Captain America's image and record were practically public knowledge, even printed in elementary school textbooks.
It wasn't hard for Batman to dig up information on him, and he certainly wouldn't make the embarrassing mistake of not knowing who Captain America was.
—In this world, not knowing Captain America was equivalent to not knowing Superman in Batman's world. He wasn't just a man; he had long since become a spiritual symbol, a cultural icon.
"Masked, no star emblem on the shield, completely shrouded in black clothing..." Ant-Man stroked his chin. "I think I might know who he is."
"Who?" Batman asked, eyes fixed on Ant-Man.
"Anthony 'Tony' Masters." Ant-Man nodded, the sketch looking more and more like the man the longer he stared at it. "Alias: Taskmaster."
Having said that, Ant-Man glanced at the Wasp, hesitating as if stopping himself from speaking further.
Batman observed Ant-Man's expression and asked probingly:
"A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent?"
Ant-Man threw his hands up in the air.
"You guessed that yourself. I didn't tell you a thing."
Batman nodded.
"Thank you."
"Don't you have anything else to ask? About Taskmaster?" Ant-Man asked, genuinely puzzled.
"What is his ability?" Batman asked smoothly.
Ant-Man chuckled, feeling as though he had finally gotten one over on Batman and vented some frustration.
"Why don't you think about what his moniker means?"
Just like Black Widow and Hawkeye, Batman had already come across that name when he hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s internal system a long time ago.
But he only knew that such a person existed; he didn't know his specific appearance or abilities, much like how Batman initially knew of Black Widow and Hawkeye but was unaware of their exact skill sets.
Still, before Batman left the Pym Technologies building, Ant-Man's parting words served as a useful reminder.
"Mimicry?"
As Batman drove the Batmobile toward Bat-Island, he pondered the possibilities that the concept of mimicry brought to the table.
"Robin, Black Knight. Come to Bat-Island once your training is over."
Batman sent a message to Venom Robin and immediately threw himself into his work.
Bat-Island now possessed most of the Batcave's functionalities, and Batman decided to manufacture the Vibranium suit for T'Challa here.
Relying on the specific frequencies memorized in his head that could affect Vibranium, Batman methodically adjusted the equipment one by one.
By the time Batman finished his preparations, Venom Robin had just returned.
Entering the Batcave beneath Bat-Island and seeing the massive arrays of machinery already up and running, Venom Robin's face instantly fell.
"I don't want to look at this stuff."
"I called you here to prepare for a joint mission," Batman said.
"Like the last two times? Where we didn't even get into a decent fight?" Venom Robin curled his lip.
He had followed Batman to Hell's Kitchen twice recently, and aside from pinching Luke Cage's wrist once, he hadn't gotten a single real opportunity to throw down.
This left Venom Robin incredibly frustrated. To make matters worse, during his sparring sessions with the Black Knight, Dane Whitman, over the past two weeks, his opponent's abysmally low skill level meant Venom Robin couldn't even cut loose.
He made up his mind that if they were heading to Hell's Kitchen again, he would refuse outright on the spot.
"No, our destination this time is Wakanda." Batman temporarily paused his work and looked at Venom Robin. "This time, it's your turn to shine."
The corners of Venom Robin's mouth hooked up sharply, his eyes widening a fraction.
"Really?"
Batman nodded and pointed toward a piece of machinery not far away.
"Now, go operate that equipment and help me manufacture the suit."
With a fight on the horizon, Venom Robin couldn't care less about complaining. He quickly jogged over to the back of the machine, but just as he was about to press for more details, a voice interrupted him.
The voice came from Batman's encrypted comms—a specific channel reserved exclusively for Alice, the CEO of Parker Industries.
"Boss, you have a letter," Alice said over the comms.
Batman swiftly altered his tone, making his voice sound young and composed:
"What's written on the envelope?"
"Nothing. There's only an eye-shaped symbol."
Batman didn't ask further questions. He looked over at Venom Robin.
"Robin, go retrieve it. Make sure you aren't spotted."
Venom Robin nodded eagerly. Running errands didn't require any brainpower, and he loved running around.
Almost the instant the words left Batman's mouth, Venom Robin bolted out of the underground Batcave.
A dozen minutes later, Venom Robin returned with a letter in hand.
The defensive measures of the Batcave beneath Bat-Island were far more advanced than those of the City Hall Batcave; Batman had no fear that anything inside the letter could leak information about this location.
The postmark date was August 13th—the exact day Batman had crossed over into this world—and the return address was Tibet, a place that had absolutely nothing to do with him.
Batman frowned. Meanwhile, Venom Robin had slipped back behind the machine, staring at the data display for a few seconds before speaking up.
"Hey, Old Bats, this suit isn't for you, is it? And why on earth are we heading to Wakanda out of the blue?"
"To save it," Batman replied.
As he spoke, Batman tore open the envelope and slipped out the letter. There was only a single line written on it:
"Do not go to Wakanda. —————— Ancient One."
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