The sun would soon rise. Beneath Wayne Manor opened one of several reinforced hatches. Through it came a nondescript black sedan, which came to rest in a vacant spot among other vehicles. From the forward doors emerged Batman and Robin, both worn. Even still, one was worse off than the other.
With a yawn, Robin pulled off his domino mask, transitioning smoothly into a big stretch. Off came his cape next, and he soon reached the lockers to change into more comfortable clothing.
Batman, meanwhile, held off on doffing his gear. He instead made for the Batcomputer, passing Robin by to ruffle his hair along the way. "You should skip school today," he said all the while.
"But—" Robin's complaint died on his lips.
"No buts," said Batman, still walking. "You spent the whole night outside instead of just half. You need rest."
Robin sighed, nibbling at his lip in frustration. Batman knew that his second son—Jason—loved his academics, but life was full of sacrifices. It would be best to teach him about that sooner than later, especially now that he was only three years off from legal adulthood.
Fight crime all night and miss out on school... or manage his time and get less of one to keep another.
Frankly, Batman would have preferred that Jason just stick to leading a civilian life altogether. In the end, he said nothing and just kept his ears perked. Jason's footsteps treaded towards the stairs, and once Batman confirmed that he had entered the manor to turn in for the day, he returned his focus to the computer as it booted.
He speed-dialed Oracle from her clock tower for one last brief before turning in himself. As her avatar's green, low-polygon face came up on screen, it smiled.
"Bruce. I imagine Jason gave you trouble again," she said as soon as the line was secure.
Bruce sighed and peeled back his cowl. "He wasn't too resistant tonight, thank God. I think he must be more tired than usual."
"That'll do it," Oracle replied.
From there, she and Bruce fell into routine. He made his own reports, she made hers. They combined what they had and formed conclusions from there—conclusions that they used to manufacture plans moving forward.
During their discussions, Oracle brought up something unusual among the usual reports. Something that had been holding Bruce's interest as of late, if only mildly and in the back of his mind.
"I have another sighting of that metahuman from the other night," said Oracle.
Bruce perked up and straightened, and Oracle showed him some camera footage.
It showed a masked man—one that could have easily been mistaken for a common thug—dispatched four actual thugs with little effort. It was a quick affair besides, but... his identity was hidden. There were no signs of the power that made him glow before, either.
Still, Batman trusted Oracle. That trust was proven well-placed when, once the thugs had all gone down, two more people were revealed from the camera's perspective. One was a man that Bruce set aside for the other. Said other... that other was a boy. One that the metahuman had saved once before.
Bruce hummed, squinting at the scene. The masked vigilante spoke with the stout man that stood between the thugs and the boy before he came to their rescue. Then, that vigilante addressed the boy directly. Despite the lack of audio, the sense of familiarity between them was clear from body language alone. Just that much spoke of everything that Bruce had needed to know.
This masked man was indeed the metahuman that had appeared in their city not long ago.
"It looks like he's doing work similar to us," said Bruce.
From across the line, Oracle snorted. "Yeah... though his methods have their quirks."
Bruce found his lips curling up at the corners. "Petty thievery... and he picks his targets quite conservatively. I'd let it slide as long as he doesn't fall too far out of line. I have much bigger things to worry about."
Oracle hummed through the speakers, and Bruce could picture Barbara shrugging in her seat. "Well, that's that for the night. I'm going home to have breakfast with dad before going to bed. I'll see you again tonight."
"Alright," Bruce replied, now pulling off his cowl. "Stay safe on your way home."
৹ ◎ ◉ ◎ ৹
Lucian awoke in his chapel's bell tower, fully rested. With a yawn and a sneeze, he peeled himself off of his bed of leaves and vines. He had quite a few things to deal with, after all, and responsibilities awaited no-one. Most important among his were visiting Iñigo's later that night, as well as talking to the vets just before that.
A frown asserted itself on his face. Last night, he had stumbled into some asshole teenagers harassing a kitten. They had stuffed it into a dirty wet sock and were rolling and tossing it around for their amusement. The vets had since taken it in to nurse it back to health, and as established, Lucian would visit later to make sure it was okay.
'I'll take that bean home if they let me. Better make sure I have enough cash to actually take care of it if that happens...'
Beyond those two short-term goals, there was still much more to work towards. One, his most important and long-standing goal, was universal conquest. Bring everything that existed to heel. To that end, he needed to fulfill several smaller goals first, all much larger than what he had on his plat at the moment.
The first among those goals was to establish a foothold in Gotham. One could not conquer alone, after all. For that, he needed allies. People to stand by him through thick and thin. He would search for his first friends soon.
Past that, there was also the matter of personal power. It was no less important than having allies, but it would come much easier to him than anything else—that was why it came only second to building his network. After all, with One for All coupled with the Program's leveling system... his potential was boundless from those two alone. That was completely disregarding the potential of Classes and personal skills as well.
Hell, he would still have been boundless even if he only had the base-level Stockpiling Quirk and was limited to boosting his Vitality alone. All that he needed then was time.
But that was enough ruminating. With a grunt, Lucian raised the church bell's lip from the floor and pulled out a new set of clothes. He stuffed it into his backpack, double-checked everything else, and made to visit the gym once more.
...
He arrived the same time he had yesterday—five in the morning. Quite a handful of people were already going through their routines. Just as well, incidentally, there she was by the punching bags—the girl that had caught his eye the last time he was there. She had just set down her bag and moved to the glove rack.
Lucian huffed in amusement at what most would have called 'fate.'
'A hopeless romantic woulda forgot or ignored that people have routines...'
When he moved to the hooks himself, she shot him a quick glance as he made to wrap his hands.
"Need help with that?" She had grabbed her own pair of gloves already, but hadn't put them on yet.
Lucian hummed aloud while thinking, 'Well, no... I was just taking my time.' The words he spoke, however, were different. "If you don't mind helping, yeah."
She slung the gloves over her shoulder as they had been tied together. With well-practiced motions, she quickly had his hands wrapped properly. Perfectly snug, nice and comfortable.
Once she had finished, she declared, "Now you help me. Lace up my gloves and hold the bag while I work on it."
Lucian had been played. It was a completely roundabout way to ask for help, but he appreciated the slyness. Whatever her reasons were, they didn't matter. He simply shrugged, said "Aight, bet," and did as told.
The arrangement was a nice deviation from his plans. He had acquired a sort of training partner. Maybe she could spar him and they'd both get more out of their morning.
In moments, she was attacking the punching bag while Lucian supported it from behind. It was normal at first—keep the bag steady while his partner wailed on it. Before long though, something changed.
'Shit... she's got a lot of power for her size.'
If he had to assign value to it based on his Program's leveling system, her striking power could sit anywhere between 12 to 14 Power. For someone of her build and apparent bulk, even a 10 or 11 would have been impressive.
"Damn, you punch heavy," he commented between attack chains. "Do you box professionally?"
"No," she replied flatly. "Just a hobby."
Lucian stared at her face. Her expression was just as flat as her voice, but there was definitely something underneath it. It was her eyes—he couldn't tell exactly what it was, but she was holding something in. Though his curiosity mounted, he chose to believe in the wisdom of staying quiet.
Perhaps intrigued by his silence, her eyes flickered to his own between attack combinations. Knowing that their eyes had met, she sighed and spoke up. "What about you? Hobby or professional?" After asking the question, she went right back to punching.
"Just a hobbyist, too," he replied.
Her freckled face had shifted slightly. It looked softer somehow. Less coiled in on itself.
"What made you get into this?" he then asked.
She huffed a breath out of her nose. "You know how it is. Gotham's dangerous. Just making sure I have good chances. You?" Her punches were losing weight now, but they came easier. Faster. More natural.
Lucian chuckled, shifting as a particularly heavy right cross impacted the bag. "Friend of mine got me into it. I got beaten up a lot as a kid, they told me to toughen up. Now it's a habit even after moving away from home."
Again, her eyes met his. The green in her irises seemed more vibrant now. "Yeah... I get that."
Breathing heavy, she finally let down her hands. Sweat dripped down her forehead and temples, as well as her back and neck. Her bright orange hair clung to whatever damp skin they could, and her tank top was getting soaked in.
"Your turn," she said. "I'll hold the bag for you this time."
"You get a drink first," Lucian replied, moving to take position.
...
Time passed like a boater-cycle at sea. Lucian exchanged names with her during their first break between rounds—she called herself Maxie. After that, they went a few more rounds alternating on it until they'd had enough. They did some drills, compared notes... he even corrected her form by the end, as she had apparently been mostly self-taught.
Breathing heavy, Lucian let himself fall on his ass. Maxie took her time moving to an unoccupied bench nearby.
"Hahh~ that was great!" Lucian exclaimed. He let himself fall further to sprawl out on the floor.
"That can't be good for you," said Maxie, sending him a sidelong glance.
He laughed between gasps for air. "Eh, I've been in worse spots after training. What about you, though? Have fun?"
She paused to think. Her eyes, unblinking, just watched his face as he stared right at her from the floor. "It wasn't bad," she admitted. She sighed after and added, "Also, I have to say sorry for tricking you earlier. I was trying to see if you were legit or just trying to get close."
Lucian shifted his gaze straight up to the ceiling and nodded. "Did I pass the creep test?"
Maxie's expression stayed largely flat, but her brows creased slightly. "Maybe," she answered. "Spar me tomorrow and we'll see."
Resisting the urge to call it a 'date,' Lucian sat up from the floor. "Alright, that sounds fun. You gonna do anything else here today, though?"
"No." She wiped the sweat off her face and neck with a towel. "I got crim in a bit. Leaving after a quick shower."
That made him cock a brow. "Criminology, huh...? joining the cops?"
"Got a problem with that?" she shot back.
"Nah, just got curious." Lucian stood up hung up his gloves, then shouldered his backpack. "Anyway, I'ma hit the showers too. Doing odd jobs where I can find 'em."
...
Lucian left Maxie with a promise to spar with her the following day. He got breakfast first, again indulging in a sizable meal, and struck out for work. This time, he turned off his brain and went on autopilot; with two appointments coming, he let himself take things easy.
Though he did turn off his brain, that didn't mean he went fully checked-out. Like before, he kept on looking out for the people that he worked with out of instinct and habit, racking up more EXP until night fell.
[ Combat EXP: 20. ]
[ Rescue EXP: 60. ]
[ Total EXP: 80. ]
[ Next level: 40. ]
He first went to the vet to check up on the kitten he'd rescued. The veterinaries showed him that it was doing just fine as far as injuries went. Their more pressing concerns about it were illness and parasites. Once it's been confirmed to them that Lucian wanted to take in the little thing, they waived his fees entirely after collecting his number, stating that they would call him once the kitten was ready to be taken from their care.
When he finally made to leave, the kitten actually clung to him like a lifeline. It broke his heart to leave it behind, but he had to, and so he did. To console it though, he fed the little thing some treats and stayed by its side until it fell asleep.
Now free from the shackles of a clingy little baby, Lucian could finally visit Iñigo's.
Still though, he had quite a bit of time. He found himself standing across the street from the restaurant in question, debating whether he should go in right away or burn some more time before having that meeting. In the end, there was nothing better to do. Best to just go in and get this done so he could sooner move towards reaching his other goalposts.
Right upon entering the crowded restaurant, Lucian caught on that he'd been spotted. True to his instincts, the same server from his last visit had already zeroed in on him. Her approach was quick but unhurried. Soon, they stood face to face.
"Welcome back, sir. Your reservation is upstairs," she said plainly. Her tone was professionally cheerful, but nothing more.
With a nod, Lucian followed her lead. He walked behind her without a word, noting that while the first floor was teeming with diners... the second floor was completely empty.
Now, it was all private booths on the second floor instead of a mix of those and public tables. The diners could very well have just been hidden behind privacy screens and the like... but Lucian was sure. The second floor was completely bereft of people bar him and the 'employees.'
He also noted with quick passes of his eyes that each and every one of those servers was armed. There were the tiniest impressions on their shirts, but only those with sharper eyes could spot them. That, or those who knew what to look for.
Now... now, the server girl he'd been following was leading him to the far end of the area. There was the vague inkling of a presence behind the privacy screen. From the silhouette behind it, he had a good idea of who it was.
"You know, I figured you'd have pull from the way you pitched this sale to me last night," Lucian said as he sat at the table, across from the man he was meeting. "So... you manage this place or something?"
The man he spoke to—short, stout, and with a shiny, gleaming scalp—laughed merrily. "Oh, yes. Absolutely," he replied. "But I don't just run this place, my friend..." He spread his arms to either side quite theatrically. "I own the entire franchise."
That earned a stunned snort from Lucian, as well as wide eyes. When the stout man reached across the table with his right hand, he didn't hesitate to meet it with a grin. That hand that he shook... its grip was heavy and strong—much stronger than his own.
"Iñigo Gutierrez."
"Lucian Pearce."
—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—
The plot begins in earnest from chapter six. If things go well, I'll put out chapter 6 tomorrow or the day after just to help with real-world pacing. We'll have a fateful encounter that will serve as the guiding principle for Lucian's conquests in the future.
Now, focusing back on this chapter... Iñigo's a made-up character. I could've had Lucian infiltrate, say, a budding Sionis Crime family, or maybe the Iceberg Lounge... but really, I just want at least one place we can be sure there won't be bullshit. Just as well, with how crime-fucking-ridden Gotham is, there's gotta be at least a lot of other smaller crime groups, and among them, some relatively good eggs. So... yeah.
If you've seen the original DC:SR/DC:SoD, you can already see how I'm streamlining a lot of my mess in the previous story. I've also changed some people's surnames because... well, they just sound better to me.
Speaking of the original DC:SR/DC:SoD, some of you might be aware of the whole 'two vigilante personas' thing. I'm just gunna merge them this time. A 'monstrous ghost,' if you will, instead of a monster and a ghost separately.
Currently workshopping names. I'm carrying Man-Eater over from last time as an option. White Mask might work considering future plot. Lemme know what y'all think and if you have other ideas.