At the Justice Society Headquarters, Adrian labored over a bank of analytical devices, comparing the freshly drawn blood of Adam Smith with samples taken from the sorority house vampires. Microscopes clicked softly under his relentless focus, screens scanning chemical signatures for anomalies.
Nearby, Jena, one half of the Wonder Twins, wandered through a corridor lined with framed portraits of Justice Society veterans — heroes long retired or lost to time. Her violet eyes traced the faces with childlike curiosity.
When she saw Wildcat's attire, she grinned and instinctively turned her hands into feline claws, mimicking the hero's legendary combat persona. She swiped at the air, relishing the feel of the transformation. As the paw pads formed on her fingertips and toes, she giggled, clearly delighted by her ability to morph her body into animalistic forms.
Adrian wasn't amused.
"Jena," he said dryly without looking up, "if you're hungry, go get something to eat."
He held out a United States hundred‑dollar bill, crisp and neat, then glanced again at her temporary cat claws with something not quite tenderness — but close. It reminded him of a stray kitten he'd once found in an alley — scrappy, curious, unpredictable.
"Money?" Jena's eyes lit up like twin stars. She sprinted off before he could reconsider.
Left in silence, Adrian returned his attention to the blood analyses. The results were unsettling. The traditional vampire samples contained red blood cells that were abnormal, hemoglobin behaving unlike that of any normal human. But the sorority house specimens told a more disturbing story. A rabies‑like virus was present, ravaging red cells and producing unusual byproducts. The female vampires' blood flowed with an unnervingly vibrant, volatile energy.
Two different vampire types. This wasn't simple folklore or myth. This was biological variation.
Closing the samples with a soft sigh, Adrian pondered the implications. Whatever had infected the sorority house monsters was similar to what had transformed Green Lantern and Kara. After infection, their strength, speed, and durability had spiked dramatically. Their minds had twisted, their personalities flattened into obedience. Tools, not individuals.
That wasn't vampirism. That was viral manipulation.
So then, who engineered it?
Adrian rubbed his chin, lost in thought.
The next day dawned over Gotham City with an eerie calm.
On the outskirts of the city, sunlight bathed the grounds of an old manor. In a sunroom at its peak, Batman stood before an unusual assembly: Constantine leaning back with a cigarette, Zatanna adjusting her posture, Detective Chimp Bobo perched on a stool, and Circe poised with her fingers curled around a steaming mug.
"It's odd you summoned us now," Constantine said, voice gravelly. "And even odder that this place is so… sunny. I half expected a ritual circle or bones."
Batman nodded, serious as ever. "Andrew Bennett appeared here recently. He said he needed to speak with me, specifically. After that contact, he vanished. Before he disappeared, he handed me a letter. That letter is the reason you are here."
Zatanna tilted her head. "Your identity is exposed? You sure that's what this is about?"
"No," Batman replied, eyes scanning each face. "That's not the most important part. Bennett claimed a group of unique vampires is preparing to target the human world. Their leadership is changing."
Detective Chimp scratched his head. "So, they commit crimes and disappear? Then we only notice when they're gone?"
"Yes," Batman confirmed. "Several metahumans and supervillains have vanished without trace. There must be a plan. We can't wait to see who they kill next. We must know who they intend to convert."
Constantine exhaled smoke thoughtfully. "Anyone could be a target. But I take it you trust us to help?"
Zatanna sipped her coffee, then recoiled. "Wait. Batman, did you poison us?"
Batman's tone stayed calm. "I didn't poison the coffee. But I did add something that would reveal vampires under sunlight. We're in full UV light right now. If any of you had been converted, you would burn. The fact that you are still standing means you are not compromised."
The group exhaled in relief, though Detective Chimp poured his coffee into a flowerpot "just in case."
After the meeting, Batman prepared to leave, but a familiar voice stopped him.
"Batman, I need to speak with you."
Zatanna stepped forward. They had history — childhood friends forged in the long shadows of loss and duty. Alfred had once arranged for Zatanna's family to perform at Wayne Manor to brighten young Bruce's grief, and from that spark had grown a bond few people understood.
"About what, Z?" Batman asked, eyes softening.
Zatanna hesitated, then pressed closer. "A matter concerning the fate of the world. Bruce, we've known each other a long time. You trust me, right?"
Instead of answering, Batman gazed at her with intense clarity. "That depends on what you are about to say. If it's beyond my capacity, I won't give you the answer you want."
Zatanna stepped in front of him abruptly, whispering close.
The instant passed in agony.
"Hiss!"
A dagger pierced Batman's lower back with cruel precision. He staggered, stunned, pain slicing through his control.
Zatanna, her eyes cold and unmoving, confessed through gritted teeth, "Sorry, Bruce. I was converted. I drank the blood of certain magical creatures so you wouldn't detect my condition."
Batman didn't waste a heartbeat. He shoved her aside and leaped through a fourth‑floor window, crashing to the ground in a storm of pain.
Outside, the roar of a motorcycle broke the dawn's silence.
Catwoman, sleek and irreverent as ever, skidded to a stop and shouted, "Get in!"
Batman, bloodied and breathing pain into each step, hauled himself onto the bike.
"We can't outrun her," he coughed.
"I know," Selina purred, "but I have backup."
Ahead, the thunderous stomp of boots hit concrete. Wonder Woman stood waiting, unwavering.
Their eyes met for a heartbeat, determination burning in hers.
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