Starting With Batman

After just one glance, Charlie knew that the man standing before him was unlike anyone he had ever encountered. The man's disheveled hair hung in greasy strands, his face seemingly smeared with oil, giving his skin an unnaturally slick appearance. But what struck Charlie the most was the grim smile plastered across the man's face—a smile that, despite its unsettling nature, felt disturbingly familiar.

"Batman, that's what you call yourself, right?" The man's voice oozed with mockery, his smile widening as he spoke. "I knew we'd meet again."

For a moment, Charlie was caught off guard, but then, realization dawned on him. His mind flashed back to the last incident, the one where he had faced a man known as Greg Hunter. He remembered the final moments—the beheading, the end of a seemingly insurmountable foe. But now, standing before this man with that same twisted grin, Charlie knew the truth.

These different faces, these varying identities, all belonged to the same person. The previous "Greg" had been nothing more than a puppet, a mere facade for the true mastermind who had never revealed himself. The enemy had not been defeated; the incident had never been resolved.

A low, mocking laugh rumbled from the man's throat. "Hahaha, you guessed it, didn't you? That's right, it's still me you're facing, and here we are again," he sneered, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "Surprising, isn't it? As I said before, I'm 'nothing'—no matter what you do, no matter how you try, I can't be destroyed."

The man's laughter filled the room, a haunting echo that seemed to reverberate off the walls. "Don't pretend you're not surprised—I can see through you. How much less fun would you have had without me..."

But before the man could finish his taunting, Batman's cloak swept through the air, a dark shadow in the dim light, and a bat dart shot forward with deadly precision. The man's eyes narrowed as he reacted with uncanny speed, turning his body just enough to avoid the dart mid-sentence.

"You're really impatient," the man sneered, his grin stretching wider as he dodged. "I bet you're the type to skip the foreplay and go straight to insertion, aren't you?"

Batman remained silent, his focus unbroken. He closed the distance between them in a few swift strides, his movements fluid and controlled. With a flicker of movement, he delivered a punch aimed at the man's torso, the glove crackling with the trace of high-voltage electricity.

The man twisted his body with almost unnatural agility, sidestepping the punch just in time. "Haha, a high-voltage shock hidden in the glove, right? This time, I won't be caught off guard like last time."

In their previous encounter, Batman had managed to surprise the man, catching him off guard with his tactical prowess. But now, the man was prepared, his awareness heightened. His reflexes, sharp and preternatural, allowed him to evade each of Batman's attacks with ease. Charlie's fingers danced across the keyboard, his hands moving with lightning speed as he executed a complex series of commands, but no matter how fast he was, the man's reactions were faster.

The room became a flurry of movement, the clashing of two formidable opponents. The man's physical strength was staggering—enough to rival even Batman, who was at the peak of human capability. Every strike, every parry, was met with resistance that sent shockwaves through the air. And yet, despite his raw power, the man moved with a fluidity that defied the laws of nature. His agility was almost inhuman, his body bending and twisting in ways that seemed impossible.

Charlie's mind raced as he tried to keep up, his hands a blur over the controls. The fight was intense, the sound of rapid key presses and mouse clicks filling his small, darkened room. The force of his inputs was so fierce that the keyboard creaked under the pressure, the mouse emitting a low, steady hum as it was pushed to its limits.

Then, without warning, a gunshot rang out, cutting through the chaos. Charlie's heart skipped a beat as he saw the muzzle flash, the gun seemingly appearing out of nowhere. The barrel, a black hole of death, was aimed directly at Batman's chest, and before Charlie could react, the trigger was pulled again.

The first shot missed, but the second hit home, the impact sending shockwaves through Batman's body. Despite the armor absorbing much of the force, the power of the shot was undeniable. The screen in front of Charlie flickered, the image momentarily distorted as Batman was blasted backward, crashing through a wall with a sickening thud.

Charlie's eyes widened in shock. When did he pull out a gun?

But then Charlie realized the truth: the man hadn't pulled out a gun at all. His hand had become the gun. The entire palm had transformed into a gun barrel, a twisted mockery of human anatomy.

Charlie's breath caught in his throat. What is this? Superpowers? Technology?

"Whether it was last time or this time, I've been conducting an experiment—a test of my abilities," the man said, his voice calm and measured despite the madness in his eyes. "Thanks to the last test, my power has evolved even further."

He paused, that twisted smile creeping back onto his face. "Your appearance was an accident, an anomaly in my experiment. But I like anomalies... they make things interesting."

As the man spoke, Felix, who had been watching and waiting for an opening, saw his chance. With a quick, fluid motion, he raised his gun and fired, having taken the opportunity to reload earlier. The bullet sliced through the air with a sharp hiss, its trajectory true.

But the man didn't even flinch. The bullet struck his body, tearing through flesh and bone, but the man remained utterly unfazed. It was as if he hadn't been hit at all. He turned his head slowly, almost mechanically, fixing Felix with that same horrifying smile.

In an instant, the gun barrel that was now his hand swiveled toward Felix. Felix's pupils contracted in fear, his body moving on instinct as he dove behind a nearby pillar, narrowly avoiding the gunfire that erupted from the man's arm.

But the man was relentless. He moved with terrifying speed, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. With a single, powerful strike, he knocked the gun from Felix's hand, the weapon clattering uselessly to the floor. Felix reacted quickly, ducking low and aiming a kick at the man's knee joint, hoping to destabilize him.

But it was like kicking a steel beam. The man didn't budge an inch.

In response, the man raised his knee and delivered a devastating kick of his own. Felix barely had time to cross his arms in front of him before the blow landed, the force of it sending him flying backward. His arms went numb from the impact, and he crashed to the ground with a heavy thud, pain radiating through his body.

At the same time, Batman took advantage of the distraction, throwing a shock device at the man. But the man twisted his body in a way that defied logic, his movements almost serpentine as he slid out of the device's path. The shock device embedded itself in the wall, releasing a burst of electricity that crackled through the air, but the man was already out of range.

"I originally planned to use that girl for my experiment," the man continued, his tone indifferent, as if discussing the weather. "The one who died in the mountains."

"But her darkness was too weak. No resentment toward the world, no strong feelings of regret, not even much fear of death—she wasn't a suitable subject for my infection experiments..."

As the man spoke, Batman moved in again, his experience and skill guiding him as he engaged the man in close combat. Charlie's hands flew over the keyboard, his eyes focused on the screen as he executed a series of defensive maneuvers. Batman dodged the man's attacks with precision, his electric glove crackling as he landed a solid punch to the man's chest.

The shock sent the man reeling, his words cut off as the current coursed through his body. But it wasn't enough to stop him. He staggered backward, a strange, hollow laugh escaping his lips as he shook off the effects of the shock.

"Haha, but this boy—he's a real treasure," the man sneered, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "The guilt of failing to protect the girl, watching the one he loved die, the self-doubt, the regret... Dying in such grief made him the perfect guinea pig.

But I must say, the final result surprised even me. Haha, I didn't expect him to create such self-deceiving fantasies..."

Ethan, who had been standing frozen in place, his mind reeling from the sudden onslaught of memories and emotions, finally recognized the man. His eyes widened in horror, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

"It's you?" Ethan gasped, his voice trembling with disbelief and fear. "You're the one who...?"

"Yes, I'm the one who gave you this precious opportunity," the man replied, tilting his head to the side, his grin widening into something monstrous. "You're welcome."

Pain contorted Ethan's face as the full weight of the truth hit him. The man's words echoed in his mind, each one a dagger to his heart.

It was suddenly clear why Ethan had been the only one to become infected. And in that moment of clarity, he realized something even more heartbreaking: Emma had died peacefully.

She had no regrets, no lingering resentment, no fear of death. In her final moments, she believed that the rescue team had arrived in time and that at least her boyfriend, Ethan, would be saved. Her last thoughts had been of relief, thinking that she had protected him in some small way.

If she had any regret at all, it was that she wouldn't get to see the person she cared about one last time.

She had been so kind, so understanding, that even in the face of death, she hadn't harbored any darkness that could be exploited. Even the worst devils couldn't twist her pure spirit into something malevolent.

But Ethan had failed her.

The realization hit him like a physical blow, causing his knees to buckle. If she could see him now, see what he had become... would she be disappointed? Would she see him as a monster, just like the one who had manipulated him into this state?

It was all... this man's fault.

Ethan's once lifeless eyes now blazed with anger, a fire that had been smothered by grief and guilt now rekindled by righteous fury. His hands trembled, not with fear, but with a growing, uncontrollable rage. A roar built up inside him, a primal scream of anguish and fury that tore from his throat like the cry of a wounded animal.

"Hahahaha, that's it, that's it. You see, you've found your energy again," the man cackled, his voice filled with sick satisfaction as he watched Ethan struggle with his emotions.

The man was in the midst of dodging another of Batman's quick-gel explosives, the device exploding behind him and sending debris flying. The explosion buried a collapsed table and shattered pieces of rubble, but the man didn't even flinch.

Ethan, consumed by his rage, charged at the man with reckless abandon, his movements wild and uncoordinated. His mind was clouded by a single, overpowering desire—to tear this monster apart with his bare hands.

But the man didn't even spare Ethan a glance. He raised his arm casually, and with a single, almost lazy motion, he fired the gun that had once been his hand. The blast struck Ethan square in the chest, the force of it sending him flying backward like a ragdoll. Ethan crashed into the wall, his body crumpling to the ground in a heap.

Ethan's attack had failed spectacularly, but it had served one purpose: it had created an opening for Charlie.

Batman surged forward, taking advantage of the momentary distraction. His fist crackled with electricity as he delivered a powerful uppercut to the man's face. The impact was brutal—Batman's punch landed with such force that it distorted the man's features, sending saliva and blood flying.

But even as his head snapped back, even as the pain registered in his twisted mind, the man continued to laugh, the sound muffled and distorted by his broken, bleeding mouth.

Batman followed up with a second punch, but the man, despite the damage he had taken, twisted his body and dodged the blow. His movements were almost serpentine, unnervingly fluid. He reached out with one hand, his fingers clamping down on Batman's fist with a crushing grip, intentionally avoiding the shock ports on the glove.

With a sickening crunch, the man crushed the built-in shock device in Batman's left glove, sparks flying from the damaged circuitry. The back of Batman's fist crackled with broken electrical arcs as the device short-circuited.

But Batman wasn't finished. He lashed out with his right fist, putting all his strength into the blow. The punch connected with the man's chest, the impact reverberating through his body. At the same moment, the barrel of the man's other hand, now transformed back into a gun, pressed against Batman's chest, the black muzzle aimed directly at the bat symbol on his armor.

Both blows landed simultaneously. The force of the gunshot blasted Batman backward, the armor absorbing the worst of the impact, but the sheer power still sent him flying across the room. Batman's body slammed into the wall with a heavy thud, cracking the concrete on impact.

The electric shock from Batman's punch spread through the man's body, momentarily disrupting his nervous system, but he shook it off with a maniacal grin, his laughter echoing through the room as he lunged forward, intent on finishing the fight.

But Charlie's hands never stopped moving on the keyboard. His mind raced as he executed command after command, his reflexes honed by countless hours of practice. Almost as soon as Batman hit the wall, Charlie activated the newly unlocked "Substitution" ability.

This was a chance to test out the new power—on an enemy that seemed unstoppable.

Batman crashed into the corner of the room, his back smashing through a weakened section of the wall, leaving a gaping hole in the concrete. The man, sensing victory, charged forward, his laughter growing more unhinged as he prepared to land the finishing blow. He raised his fist, his face twisted in a grotesque grin as he brought it down with all his might.

Boom!

The man's fist slammed into the wall, shattering the concrete and leaving a hole the size of a small boulder.

But Batman wasn't there.

He hadn't escaped just in time, nor had he hidden in the shadows. He had simply vanished—disappeared into thin air mere tenths of a second before the punch landed.

"Wha—?" The man's wild laughter died abruptly, his twisted grin faltering as he tilted his head in confusion. He withdrew his fist, staring at the empty space where Batman had been, his mind struggling to comprehend what had just happened.

A sudden rush of wind from behind caught the man's attention. He spun around, his reflexes sharp as ever, just in time to see a blur of movement—a disc-shaped object hurtling toward him at incredible speed.

Before he could react, the object struck him square in the face with a resounding crack. The force of the impact whipped his head back, sending him stumbling backward, his vision swimming. Blood sprayed from his nose and mouth, the sharp edges of the disc cutting into his flesh.

The man blinked in shock, his mind reeling from the unexpected attack. The disc circled back, arcing gracefully through the air before returning to its owner's hand with practiced ease.

Standing tall and imposing, his figure framed by the dim light filtering through the shattered windows, was a burly soldier. He was clad in a blue uniform, the fabric textured and reinforced with advanced combat materials. A steel helmet sat firmly on his head, adorned with white wings on either side, and emblazoned on his forehead was a large, unmistakable "A."

Captain America.

---

If you're enjoying the story, want to support my work even further, and want to get early access to chapters, please check out my Patron at Patreon.com/OneSword

Free Members can read up to 5 chapters in advance.

Thank you, and Sword out!