The massive digital screen mounted high above Gotham's Central Square flashed with the morning's most sensational headline. Commuters, office workers, and street vendors slowed their steps as the broadcast cut through the usual rush of the city.
"Last night in the East District, which had been quiet for some time, another bloody incident occurred. Authorities report that two low-level members of the Mask Society were found dead in a tunnel. The manner of death closely resembles the mysterious killings that previously took place in a hotel involving members of the same organization. According to speculation, this may be connected to the long-rumored Blood God, one of the chairmen of the Judgment Council. Rumors about vampires are rapidly spreading across the city!"
The footage replayed several grainy images of police lights, blocked-off tunnels, and the blurred outline of bodies being carried away. Around the square, clusters of citizens gathered beneath the towering building, whispering among themselves with a mixture of fear and excitement.
"My god, what's been happening in Gotham lately?" one man muttered as he stared up at the screen. "It feels like every kind of monster has crawled out of the shadows."
A young woman nearby shrugged with surprising enthusiasm. "Honestly? I was thinking about moving to the East District. Vampires sound pretty cool."
Another passerby snorted with a knowing grin. "I told you all along. That mysterious Judgment Council never disappeared. They were just waiting."
The morning broadcast had barely finished before the crowd erupted into animated chatter. Gotham's citizens were nothing if not energetic when it came to rumors, especially rumors involving supernatural forces and vigilante justice.
Across the square, in a much taller building overlooking the broadcast tower, a man sat silently at the edge of the rooftop terrace.
Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit and tie, Bruce Wayne leaned back in his chair with one leg crossed over the other. His gaze remained fixed on the giant screen across the skyline, his expression unreadable as he absorbed every detail of the news report.
Behind him, the quiet sound of footsteps approached.
Alfred Pennyworth moved with his usual calm precision, carrying a polished tray. He gently placed a glass of wine on the small table beside Bruce before turning his attention toward both the young man and the distant screen.
For a moment, he simply observed.
"Master Bruce," Alfred said thoughtfully, his tone polite but probing. "Perhaps it would be wise to contact your new friend."
Bruce's eyes shifted slightly.
"…Hmm?"
Alfred reached inside his suit jacket and withdrew a sealed envelope. With deliberate care, he handed it over.
"The investigation you asked me to conduct has yielded some progress," he explained. "There were several witnesses to the recent incident. A few of them even managed to take photographs."
Bruce accepted the envelope without speaking and slid a finger beneath the seal.
Inside were three photographs.
All of them were blurry, clearly taken at night under poor lighting conditions. Even so, faint silhouettes could still be distinguished.
Bruce studied them carefully.
The first two images showed the exterior of the hotel where the earlier killings had taken place. Police lights reflected across the wet pavement while shadows stretched along the street.
The third photograph was the clearest.
It appeared to have been taken from the second floor of a building across the street.
In the grainy image, a figure crouched over a fallen member of the Mask Society. The shape of the attacker was barely visible, but the posture was unmistakable. The man's head was lowered near the criminal's neck.
Bruce's eyes narrowed.
"Vampire?"
Alfred watched Bruce closely. A faint trace of concern appeared in his otherwise composed expression.
This solemn look was not something he saw often.
The last time Bruce had worn such an expression was when he witnessed the Blood God fighting against the League of Assassins. Since then, Alfred had noticed that Bruce occasionally returned to that same quiet intensity whenever the Judgment Council appeared in conversation.
Without interrupting Bruce's thoughts, Alfred placed another thick file on the table.
"I anticipated your curiosity," he said calmly. "This file contains the vampire-related rumors I was able to collect from European historical records over roughly the past thousand years."
Bruce glanced down at the document as Alfred continued speaking.
"If the so-called Blood God truly has been spreading terror across Europe for centuries," Alfred said slowly, "then one must consider an uncomfortable possibility. The Judgment Council may not be quite as righteous as it appears."
Bruce opened the file and began reading.
The documents inside contained a wide variety of historical accounts and folklore. Some described sightings of pale figures feeding on blood in remote villages. Others documented mysterious disappearances, unexplained killings, and legends of immortal predators that hunted in the night.
Several pages listed the traditional weaknesses attributed to vampires.
Garlic.
Crosses.
Silver.
Sunlight.
Another section detailed rumors about their longevity and regenerative abilities, suggesting that some vampires had existed for centuries without aging.
Bruce flipped through each page methodically, his expression remaining serious as the information accumulated in his mind.
Meanwhile, similar scenes were unfolding throughout Gotham.
Within private offices, luxury penthouses, and shadowy meeting rooms, influential members of the city's upper class quietly began conducting their own investigations. The sudden rise of vampire rumors—and the growing reputation of the Judgment Council—had attracted far too much attention to ignore.
At Gotham Central Police Station, the atmosphere was equally tense.
Commissioner James Gordon slowly lowered the receiver of the telephone and placed it back on its cradle. His face was grim as he turned toward the investigation board dominating the wall in front of him.
New evidence from the East District had just arrived.
Photographs covered the board.
Images of the Judgment Council carrying out their brutal brand of justice.
The masked figure known as the Judge.
The terrifying Blood God who appeared later.
The elusive Catwoman who had recently become another infamous figure associated with the group.
And several shadowy figures that witnesses claimed were vampires.
Red string connected the photographs like a web, linking different incidents and sightings across the city. Pins marked locations, dates, and possible connections.
Gordon stood silently in front of the board, his eyes scanning every detail.
After a long pause, one of the officers behind him spoke up.
"To be honest," the officer admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm starting to wonder if the two leaders of the Judgment Council are even human."
He gestured toward the photos of the Judge and the Blood God.
"Their strength, their mysterious endurance, the fact that bullets don't seem to affect them… all of that feels like it's beyond normal human limits."
Another detective leaned forward and frowned at the evidence.
"Have you noticed something even worse?" he said quietly. "There are supposedly ten more people like them inside the Judgment Council."
Several officers exchanged uneasy looks.
"Damn," someone muttered. "All those monsters gathered in the East District. No wonder the locals keep bragging about how safe their neighborhood has become."
A female detective crossed her arms thoughtfully.
"Or maybe it's just intimidation," she suggested. "A bluff to scare criminals away."
"Bluff?" another officer scoffed. "I think the reality might be far more terrifying than we're imagining."
Gordon finally spoke.
His voice was calm but heavy with concern.
"You've all looked into vampire legends at some point," he said. "According to European records stretching back centuries, the Blood God appears to have existed since ancient times. And if those records are even partially accurate, then his reputation has never been particularly noble."
He tapped the photo of the Blood God with one finger.
"Bloodthirsty. Cruel. A creature associated with terror and slaughter. That's how history describes him."
The room grew quieter as Gordon continued.
"And yet," he said slowly, "that same figure is now apparently part of an organization dedicated to fighting crime."
He looked around at the assembled detectives.
"Doesn't that strike you as strange?"
No one answered.
Gordon's gaze drifted toward the cluster of photographs representing the twelve chairmen of the Judgment Council.
"If there are truly twelve leaders within that council," he continued, "then it's entirely possible that one—or several—of them are far more terrifying than the Blood God himself."
He paused, his voice growing lower.
"And that possibility might explain why someone with such a dark reputation would willingly act like a knight delivering justice."
A sharp hiss of breath spread through the room.
Several detectives visibly shuddered.
They could not imagine what kind of existence could force the Blood God into submission.
After a long moment, Gordon spoke again.
"However," he said quietly, "that isn't what worries me the most."
His face had grown slightly pale.
Slowly, his eyes settled on a photograph positioned at the center of the investigation board.
The image showed a tall figure wearing a black robe and a black mask.
The Judge.
Gordon stared at the photograph with intense focus.
"What concerns me most," he said, "is the possibility that someone even stronger exists above the Twelve Speakers of the Judgment Council."
The room fell completely silent.
"If that's the case," Gordon finished slowly, "then the strength of those twelve leaders may only represent the council's lower threshold of power."
For several seconds, no one spoke.
The detectives stared at one another, shaken by the implication.
Finally, the tense silence was broken by the hesitant voice of a young officer who seemed far less experienced than the others.
"Well… if the Judgment Council really is that powerful," he said uncertainly, "wouldn't that actually be good for us? Maybe once all their members arrive in Gotham, they won't stay confined to the East District. If they spread out across the city, maybe things will finally get easier for us. Just look at the East End right now…"
Before he could finish his sentence, an older officer shot him a sharp glare.
Gordon's expression hardened instantly.
"Judging criminals without legal authority is still a crime," Gordon said sternly. "Even if the people being killed are criminals themselves."
He turned fully toward the young officer, his voice rising.
"And part of the reason Gotham has become the way it is today is because too many officers are afraid to confront crime directly. Instead, they avoid responsibility and hope someone else will solve the problem."
The entire police station fell into uneasy silence as Gordon's reprimand echoed through the room.
No one dared argue with him.
....
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