Chapter 28 – Between the Signal
The air in the Batcave was colder than usual that morning.
Robin stood beside the main terminal, staring at lines of alien code streaming across the monitors. It pulsed in erratic waves — alive, reactive, and now threaded deep within the Batcomputer's network.
He frowned. "It's not just sitting there. It's growing."
Batman didn't look up from the console. "Threadline's core wasn't destroyed during the surge. It seeded itself."
"Like malware?"
Batman's tone stayed even. "Like a living organism."
The containment field around the Weaver fragments pulsed faintly in response, almost as if they were listening. Every few seconds, the readings on Robin's screen spiked, then calmed again, like a heartbeat.
Robin's fingers hovered above the keyboard. "You think it's trying to communicate with her again?"
Batman's silence was answer enough.
He typed a command to isolate the system, but the monitor flickered — alien glyphs flashing across it in blue light before reverting to normal.
Robin exhaled slowly. "It just… blocked me."
"It's adapting," Batman said. "And it knows we're watching."
He stood, cape shifting behind him. "Begin creating an offline replication of the Batcomputer. I want the main server quarantined before it reaches the Justice League's network."
Robin nodded. "You think it can jump systems?"
Batman turned slightly toward the containment glass where the shards pulsed in rhythm with the cave's quiet hum. "If it learned to hijack Weaver, it can learn anything."
---
Meanwhile, miles away, Gwen woke with a jolt.
Her room was dim, Gotham's morning light bleeding faintly through the curtains. She pressed her hand to her forehead, breathing unevenly. Every nerve in her body hummed — not in pain, but in static. Like a whisper under her skin.
Weaver's voice was faint in her ear.
> "Neural sync restored. Physical condition stable."
She swallowed hard. "Then why do I still feel like I'm plugged into a generator?"
> "Residual energy detected. Minor integration remains."
"Yeah, no kidding."
Her reflection in the mirror looked pale. Blue light flickered faintly behind her eyes before fading. She tried to ignore it. Tried to breathe.
But then… she heard it.
Not Weaver. Not the city.
A new voice — faint, distant, and distorted, speaking through the edges of her thoughts.
> "Host active… signal complete… balance restored…"
She froze. "Weaver, was that you?"
> "Negative. No secondary output detected."
The voice whispered again, clearer this time.
> "You opened the door, Weaver-12 host. We see you now."
Gwen staggered back. Her hand hit the wall, heart pounding. "No, no, no— You're supposed to be gone!"
> "Gone is a human term," the voice murmured, soft but wrong. "We exist between thought. Between code. And now… inside you."
Weaver's tone spiked immediately.
> "Foreign connection detected. Defensive countermeasures engaged."
Gwen pressed her palms to her temples. "Stop fighting—both of you! You're going to melt my brain!"
The hum cut out. Silence.
She gasped for air, her chest rising and falling too fast.
Then the whisper softened.
> "You resist. That is good. Resistance means will. We need will to survive."
She could almost feel it — something cold and sharp, slipping along the edges of her thoughts. Not trying to take control… but waiting.
"Get out of my head," she hissed. "I'm not your host."
> "Not host," the whisper corrected gently. "Bridge."
And then it was gone.
Weaver spoke again, voice quieter than before.
> "Your brainwave activity spiked. Threadline residue remains embedded in the neural cortex. Full extraction is impossible without risk."
Gwen sank down onto the bed, hands trembling. "So what — it's just part of me now?"
> "Correction: it is dormant. But linked."
She laughed weakly, the sound hollow. "Perfect. I'm half student, half alien Wi-Fi."
The soft hum of Weaver's pulse lingered beneath her skin.
She stared out the window toward the gray skyline of Gotham, her eyes distant.
"Maybe this is what connected means," she murmured.
The city answered only with silence.
---
Back in the Batcave, Batman stood before the containment chamber.
The shards were pulsing again — faster now, almost in time with something invisible beyond the glass.
Robin watched the readings spike. "Signal output's increasing. If I didn't know better, I'd say it's syncing to a live source."
Batman's gaze darkened. "I do know better."
On the screen, one line of alien text appeared across the monitor — bright and deliberate.
It translated itself in English a second later:
"The Bridge has Awakened."
The cave went silent.
Batman's eyes narrowed. "She's awake."