"This is the reinforcement I was talking about. Look it up online when you can," Selina said from behind them on the speeding motorcycle, her voice urgent.
Batman, enduring the sharp pain that lanced through his nerves with every bump in the road, turned his head slightly toward her.
"How do you know her?" he asked quietly to Catwoman.
Selina's voice held a note of frustration as she guided the bike through Gotham's streets.
"I don't know her well. She just showed up and demanded someone contact Adrian," she said as they sped away. "She claimed she had something important to tell him. I didn't trust her at first, so I wanted you to confirm who she was. Then I found you stabbed in the back. Speaking of which, isn't she someone from your past, Bruce?"
Batman's eyes narrowed as a fresh wave of pain washed over him.
"Cough!"
He coughed hard and tasted blood at the corner of his mouth.
"One converted vampire becomes a puppet without free will," he said, voice strained, "This isn't the real her, Selina. Take me to the Batcave."
Batman's last words came out ragged, and then he lost consciousness.
Meanwhile, in Metropolis, Adrian stood tensely before Jena, the younger of the Wonder Twins, unsure of what to make of her claim.
"Are you certain you sensed your brother's scent in those female vampires?" he asked, frowning.
Jena's violet eyes brimmed with grief as tears streaked down her face.
"Yes. Their blood carries his scent. I know it's him," she said, voice trembling with emotion.
"Did they eat my brother?!" she cried.
Before Adrian could answer, the trembling vampire girls in front of them whimpered in fear.
"We swear we haven't seen anyone named Zan," one quavered, huddled against the wall.
Adrian observed them with cold scrutiny.
"How did you become vampires?" he asked calmly.
"We were bitten by Irene," one of the girls said weakly.
Adrian's expression shifted slightly as he processed the name.
"Which year did Irene transfer?" he asked.
"She… she transferred from Kansas Central University," the vampire stuttered.
Kansas Central University? Was that CLARK's school?
As Adrian began to piece together the emerging connections between the vampires, the Justice Society Headquarters suddenly buzzed with incoming calls.
His phone rang. Selina's voice came through immediately, tense and urgent.
"Something's happened in Gotham. Batman was stabbed by Zatanna and is now in a coma."
Adrian lowered the phone slowly. He looked up toward the night sky, dark clouds rolling in like a storm brewing on the horizon.
Not far from the Justice Society building, a different storm was forming.
Fully armed police units and military forces were advancing toward the headquarters, their ranks filled with tooth-and-nail ferocity. These weren't ordinary officers — they were all converted vampires, their eyes wild, their intent clear: complete annihilation of Adrian.
Using his x‑ray vision, Adrian watched the vampire army approach. His eyes narrowed with disdain.
They were pulling almost every force they had to bear down on him. Among the ranks were familiar supervillains — figures he had crossed paths with before.
King Shark snarled in the front line, the Suicide Squad's aquatic monster towering over lesser threats. Nearby, Black Spider moved with lethal precision. Adrian recognized enough faces to know this assault was meant to overwhelm him entirely.
Locked deep within a containment cell, Solomon Grundy let out a thunderous roar of excitement, his massive body trembling with anticipation.
"To wipe him out completely?"
Adrian simply watched the advancing army, his lips curling into a half‑smirk of contempt.
Beside him, Jena shivered.
"Adrian, do you need my help?" she asked timidly, although they had only known each other for a short time.
She remembered his kindness — the way he treated her to meals and promised to help her find her brother — and believed she should help him now, even if she wasn't sure how.
Adrian glanced at her, his expression cold but softened ever so slightly toward the younger girl he was protecting.
"No need," he said calmly and began turning his attention back to the siege.
Meanwhile, at Kansas Central University, Clark had just finished a long morning of academic errands and was exhausted. He entered the quiet back garden, hoping for a moment of peace, only to run into a group of classmates laughing loudly as they wandered across campus.
Clark stepped aside to let them pass, but one of the larger students bumped him roughly with a shoulder.
Since Clark had recently lost his superpowers, the jolt sent him sprawling to the ground.
Bang!
His palms hit the earth hard; when he pushed himself up, he saw both hands stained with his own blood.
He hissed softly as pain bloomed from a sliced palm.
"Sorry, I accidentally bumped into you," the tall guy sneered arrogantly, clearly not sorry at all. His friends circled around, recognizing Clark's name.
"Kent," one called, his tone mocking, "I heard you're Professor Fain's new assistant. Lucky you, farmer boy from Kansas."
Clark didn't flare with embarrassment, but his eyes hardened. When they mocked his background, he refused to be anything less than human — proud of where he came from.
"I earned a full scholarship," Clark said with calm intensity. "If a farm boy can get one, then maybe it's you who should reflect on how a farm boy beat you in academics."
The group's mood shifted when their target challenged them back.
"Bastard! How dare you talk back!"
They rushed him at once.
Even without superpowers, Clark's height and training showed. He grabbed the first attacker by the arm and flipped him to the ground with practiced precision, then threw a punch that cracked against the cheek of the tall football player in front of him.
But the numbers were against him now.
They swarmed Clark, punches and kicks raining down until he crumpled to the ground. Each strike landed, and Clark refused to cry out despite the pain he took.
He fought back instinctively — a tackle here, a punch there — but they kept coming. When he rolled to protect his head, kicks and blows hammered his body relentlessly. Gritting his teeth, he endured it all without complaint.
"Hey, what are you doing?" a voice called out from the silent night.
Professor Fain walked out of the shadows, his presence alone enough to make the group stop.
"Are you assaulting a classmate?" Fain asked, his voice cool.
The bullies stammered denials in awkward panic.
Ignoring them, Fain turned to Clark and helped him to his feet. Clark, bloodied and disheveled, managed a weak blink, ready to thank the professor but froze when Fain spoke again.
"Clark Kent, if these are the people you want to protect, is it worth it?"
Clark looked puzzled until Fain's form began to shift. Black, viscous tendrils extended from his arms, stabbing into the chests of the nearby students. In an instant, they fell silent, lifeless.
Clark staggered back in shock.
Slowly retracting the inky tentacles, Fain looked to Clark with a calm, unreadable expression.
"I don't think I ever told you," Fain said quietly, "I have another name, one you might not be familiar with, Brainiac."
At his feet, the fallen students stirred, their bodies straightening with unnatural energy. Their eyes glowed red, fangs protruded, and a palpable thirst radiated from them.
"They…" Clark whispered, stepping back — horror in his eyes.
"They turned into vampires?"