Ribs.
Femur.
Humerus.
Skull fracture.
Retinal detachment.
Internal bleeding.
Collapsed lung.
Spinal trauma.
Batman listed them calmly in his mind.
If he fought Hulk, none of these were unlikely.
He had prepared contingency responses for every one of the two hundred and six bones in the human body.
Not because he believed he would win.
But because he believed he might survive.
---
Inside the City Hall subway station, converted into his temporary operations hub, screens flickered rapidly as the Oracle AI executed command after command.
"Retrieve Osborn Building structural plans. Highlight load-bearing columns and shear walls. Calculate ultimate stress tolerance."
"Hack laboratory inventory. Mark all liquid nitrogen storage points."
"Map fire suppression systems inside walls."
"Compile psychological and personal data on Bruce Banner."
"Modify Bat-signal sonic frequency."
"Activate Batmobile climb mode."
Each command processed in sequence.
Batman studied the data intensely.
If Hulk rampaged—
Load-bearing columns would be targets.
Liquid nitrogen could serve as temporary immobilization.
High-frequency sound could disorient.
Water pressure lines could alter footing.
He memorized structural diagrams.
Then he opened a metal case.
Inside were the pumpkin bombs confiscated from Norman Osborn.
Batman had already modified them.
They were no longer lethal.
Now they were flashbang devices—intense glare, piercing sonic disruption, concussive shockwaves.
Anti-Hulk tools.
Maybe.
---
The countdown narrowed.
Ten minutes until Ross' "target" arrived.
Above ground, the sun lingered faintly while the moon rose pale and indifferent.
The streets surrounding Osborn Tower were empty.
General Ross' press conference had succeeded in one thing—fear.
Military barriers.
Police roadblocks.
No civilians.
No witnesses.
Exactly how Ross preferred it.
---
Batman moved.
He exited the subway one block from Osborn Tower and parked beside an adjacent skyscraper.
"Barbara, take over driving."
The Batmobile roof split open.
An electromagnetic launch system activated.
Batman shot upward into twilight like a shadow tearing free from gravity.
Behind him—
The Batmobile engaged climb mode.
The Bat emblem rotated downward.
Three grappling hooks fired sequentially.
Metal claw bit into concrete.
Retract.
Fire.
Climb.
The vehicle ascended the building wall in measured, mechanical precision.
By the time police sirens echoed in the distance, the Batmobile had already disappeared over the rooftop.
Only damaged brick remained.
---
On the twentieth floor of Osborn Tower—
Professor Curt Connors sat before his terminal.
"I've prepared enough stabilizer for half a month," he typed to Metropolitan Hospital.
The doctor responded gratefully.
"There may even be excess."
Connors frowned.
He knew his dosages precisely.
"Why?" he typed slowly.
The reply came.
"Leo is critical. His organ failure has accelerated. He may not survive twenty-four hours."
Connors' hand froze over the keyboard.
Leo.
Eight years old.
End-stage organ degeneration.
Sustained only by Connors' temporary stabilizer.
The regenerative stabilizer prolonged life.
It did not cure.
Not yet.
Connors' gaze shifted to the glass containment chamber.
The lone white mouse lay quietly.
Its regenerated limb showed no rejection.
No instability.
No side effects.
A successful mammalian regeneration model.
Snap.
His screen went black.
Then a simple text window appeared.
"Peter: I have prepared extraction."
Batman had hacked directly into the system.
"Connors: Wait. Emergency here."
"Hulk inbound. Less than ten minutes."
Connors typed rapidly.
"No—"
The screen blinked again.
"I will arrive in five minutes. Whatever you intend to—"
Snap.
Connors pulled the power cable from the wall.
Silence.
He stood alone.
---
There was only one immediate way to save Leo.
The complete regenerative serum.
The formula he had kept hidden.
Untested in humans.
Scientifically sound.
Theoretically stable.
But unproven.
Ross wanted it for weapons.
Connors wanted it for healing.
But now—
There was a dying child.
He whispered softly:
"Peter is right. Ross is dangerous."
He opened a locked case.
Inside rested a vial.
Greenish.
Viscous.
Hope.
Fear.
Redemption.
Three emotions converged:
Compassion for Leo.
Longing for his own arm to return.
And the scientist's yearning to see his life's work validated.
He filled a syringe.
His left hand trembled only slightly.
"If I succeed," he whispered, "I can give Leo a chance."
He pressed the needle into the scar tissue of his severed right arm.
Injected.
The liquid entered his bloodstream.
For several seconds—
Nothing.
Then—
A tremor.
His heart rate spiked.
Sweat formed instantly.
Pain like fire tore through the phantom limb area.
Connors gasped.
Muscle tissue began knitting beneath scarred flesh.
Bone marrow stimulated violently.
Cellular regeneration accelerated beyond natural limits.
He collapsed to one knee.
Breathing ragged.
The laboratory lights flickered.
His body convulsed.
---
Outside—
Batman crouched atop a neighboring rooftop.
Through enhanced lenses he observed the approaching military convoy.
Heavy containment vehicle.
Reinforced escort.
Gamma suppression equipment visible.
Hulk was minutes away.
His earpiece crackled faintly.
Abnormal biometric surge detected on twentieth floor.
Batman's eyes narrowed.
"Connors…"
He launched himself forward.
---
Inside the lab—
Connors' scream echoed once.
Then silence.
His body lay unconscious on the floor.
Scar tissue around his right shoulder bubbled unnaturally.
Bone extended.
Cartilage formed.
Muscle fibers wove together like living threads.
Skin stretched thin over regrowth.
The white mouse stirred restlessly in its container.
Outside the window—
Helicopter blades cut the sky.
Military vehicles locked into perimeter positions.
The target had arrived.
---
Batman shattered through the laboratory window moments later.
Glass rained inward.
He landed beside Connors immediately.
His gaze locked on the professor's shoulder.
Regeneration was occurring.
Rapidly.
But unstable.
Cell division was accelerating at extreme rates.
He checked vitals.
Alive.
Unconscious.
He scanned the serum vial.
Composition matched Connors' limb regeneration research.
But without full trial calibration—
Side effects unpredictable.
Batman looked toward the horizon.
Military transport doors opened below.
If Hulk was released now—
Two variables.
One building.
Too many unknowns.
He injected Connors with a stabilizing sedative.
Not to stop regeneration.
But to slow neurological overload.
---
Connors' fingers twitched.
The new arm—partially formed—flexed weakly.
Bone structure nearly complete.
Muscle forming.
Skin knitting.
It was working.
But at what cost?
Batman's mind processed rapidly.
If Connors' serum truly stabilized regeneration—
Ross' ambition would multiply tenfold.
If Connors lost control—
Another monster.
Another catastrophe.
---
Outside, engines roared.
Inside, flesh regrew.
The worst-case scenario was unfolding faster than anticipated.
Batman looked at the unconscious scientist and muttered:
"You chose the child."
He respected that.
But respect did not erase consequence.
Below, armored doors opened.
Containment alarms blared.
Hulk was here.
And now—
So was a man regrowing his arm from nothing.
Preparation for the worst had not been enough.
Because sometimes—
The worst does not wait.
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