Starting With Batman

In an instant, a wave of terror washed over everyone present. The air seemed to grow heavier, pressing down on their chests and making it difficult to breathe. The source of this fear loomed before them—a massive, grotesque figure that defied the very laws of nature. Its body was a twisted amalgamation of flesh and scales, pulsating with a sickly glow that seemed to ooze malevolence. Thick, sinewy tentacles protruded from what could loosely be called its face, writhing and twisting as if with a mind of their own. The scales covering its body weren’t ordinary; they were made of some unknown substance, shimmering with an eerie, otherworldly light that made them appear almost alive.

Every movement of the creature sent tremors through the ground, each step a thunderous quake that rattled the very bones of those who faced it. Its presence was overwhelming, a force of nature that seemed to bend reality around it. The sheer size of the monstrosity, coupled with its nightmarish appearance, made it nearly impossible to comprehend, let alone confront.

Panic rippled through the ranks of the agents. Melanie, ever the composed leader, could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on her. Her voice, usually steady and authoritative, was tinged with urgency as she barked orders into her headset, requesting immediate support from headquarters. But the only response she received was a desperate rustling, the telltale sign of interference—or worse, complete silence from the other end.

Around them, the world began to warp and twist in ways that defied explanation. The surrounding buildings, once solid and reliable, seemed to separate from reality, their structures splitting along invisible lines that carved through the sky itself. The sky above appeared to tear apart, dividing into two distinct halves by a line that seemed to shimmer with a translucent quality. The two halves of the sky reflected each other like a pair of twisted mirrors, with everything within those reflections moving at an unnaturally rapid pace, creating a chaotic, kaleidoscopic effect that disoriented those who looked too closely.

The ground beneath their feet was not spared from this bizarre phenomenon. Tiles and stones began to lift off the surface, floating upward as if gravity had suddenly lost its hold. The floating debris aligned themselves in a strange pattern, forming what looked like a suspended escalator leading up into the sky. The scene was surreal, as if the very fabric of the world was unraveling before their eyes.

From the far end of this makeshift escalator, a figure emerged—a stark contrast to the chaos around him. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, complete with a bow tie, exuding an air of elegance that seemed almost mocking in the face of the devastation. A mask with a hypnotic swirl pattern covered his face, obscuring his features and adding to his unsettling presence. In his hand, he held a thick black cane, which he tapped lightly against the floating bricks as he walked. It was as if he were taking a leisurely stroll through a park, not traversing a battlefield where reality itself was breaking apart.

The masked man moved with an eerie grace, stepping lightly on the suspended bricks as though he were floating on air. He seemed unaffected by the bullets that suddenly rained down on him from all sides, fired by the panicked agents who had instinctively turned their weapons on him. Their training kicked in, but this time, it wasn’t just protocol guiding their actions—it was pure, primal fear.

Later, when questioned about the incident, the agents would all say the same thing: they didn’t know why they had fired. It wasn’t a conscious decision; it was as if their bodies had acted on their own, driven by an overwhelming need to eliminate the threat before them. It was as if every instinct they had screamed that this man, more than anything else they had ever faced, was a danger that had to be stopped.

The sound of gunfire echoed across the battlefield, but the masked man continued his calm, unhurried walk. The bullets, which should have torn through flesh and bone, never reached their mark. Instead, they stopped mid-air, just two or three meters away from him. It was as if time itself had frozen in place, suspending the bullets in a bizarre tableau of violence halted mid-action.

For a moment, the bullets hovered there, suspended in the air like a deadly cloud. Then, without warning, they vanished, dissolving into nothingness as if they had never existed. The masked man didn’t even glance at the projectiles—his attention remained focused on his destination as he descended from the sky, his cane tapping lightly against the floating bricks.

“Ninth Special Service Division,” he said, his voice smooth and tinged with amusement. “I’ve wanted to meet you for a long time…”

Before he could say more, Melanie acted. With a swift, practiced motion, she hurled a small device at the masked man’s feet. The object rolled smoothly across the floating bricks, coming to rest directly in front of him.

A sound and light grenade.

This particular device was designed for maximum disruption. Upon detonation, it would unleash a deafening blast loud enough to rupture eardrums, accompanied by a blinding flash capable of temporarily blinding anyone caught in its radius. It was a tool of last resort, meant to incapacitate even the most dangerous foes.

But as the grenade detonated, something impossible happened. The masked man simply snapped his fingers, and the explosion vanished. The sound, the light, the very force of the blast—all of it disappeared as if erased from existence. The grenade itself was gone, leaving behind no trace of its detonation.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the grenade reappeared—this time, within the ranks of the agents on the other side of the battlefield. The explosion, now unleashed among the unsuspecting agents, was devastating. The bright flash and thunderous roar blinded and disoriented them, leaving several of them incapacitated in an instant.

Melanie’s heart skipped a beat. What kind of power was this? How could someone simply redirect an explosion like that, as if it were a harmless trick?

As she struggled to comprehend the situation, the giant tentacled creature above them moved with terrifying speed. Its thick, powerful appendages crashed down onto the ground, each impact sending shockwaves through the earth that cracked and shattered the surface. The force was so great that it seemed to warp the very landscape, twisting and bending the buildings around it.

The infected creatures surged forward, their grotesque forms a nightmarish tide that threatened to engulf the agents. Some agents were firing frantically at the infected, trying to hold them back, while others were locked in desperate close-quarters combat, fighting to free themselves from the creatures that had latched onto them. All the while, the giant shadow above loomed ominously, its presence an ever-present threat.

The world was falling apart around them.

“Personally, I hate violence,” the masked man said, his tone calm and almost conversational, as if he were discussing something mundane. “But this is humanity’s choice, isn’t it? To use force against everything they don’t understand. People reject the unknown, and that is why the great gods have deemed humanity unworthy…”

He trailed off, his gaze shifting as something caught his attention. His eyes, visible through the mask, narrowed in curiosity. Slowly, he turned around to face a new arrival.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting its pale light over the chaotic scene below. The moonlight, usually soft and serene, seemed to take on a sharp, almost divine quality as it bathed the figure that now descended from above. Cloaked in white, the figure moved with an otherworldly grace, as if he were a part of the very moonlight that illuminated him. His cape billowed out behind him like a pair of wings, and when he landed, the impact was marked by a dull, echoing thud that resonated through the ground.

Moon Knight.

The masked man’s lips curled into a smirk. “I was wondering when you lunatics in fancy clothes were going to show up.”

Moon Knight said nothing in response. His silence was more menacing than any threat could have been. With a sudden burst of speed, he kicked off the ground, his cape spreading wide as he became a blur of white. In an instant, he was upon the masked man, closing the distance with deadly precision.

The masked man, still calm, didn’t move. He watched as Moon Knight approached, his expression unreadable behind the swirling mask. Above them, one of the giant tentacles reared back and then slammed down, aiming to crush Moon Knight with overwhelming force. The impact was so powerful that the ground beneath them sank, sending debris flying in all directions.

But when the dust cleared, the masked man’s smirk faded.

Moon Knight had not only survived the blow, but he had used it to his advantage. In the blink of an eye, he had closed the distance and was now directly in front of the masked man, his fist already swinging toward his target.

The masked man barely had time to raise his cane in defense. Moon Knight’s punch connected with the cane, and the force of the impact sent shockwaves through the air. The masked man staggered back, his cloak billowing out as he struggled to maintain his footing. The ground beneath them cracked, unable to withstand the force of their clash.

For the first time, the masked man’s eyes showed something other than amusement. There was a flicker of surprise, even fear, as he realized that Moon Knight’s speed and strength were far beyond what he had anticipated. The tentacle’s attack, which should have pulverized any normal human, had been nothing more than an inconvenience to him.

The masked man flipped in mid-air, landing lightly on his feet. His cane, still in hand, was slammed into the ground, sending a wave of energy rippling through the earth. At the same time, he stretched out his left hand, fingers splayed wide.

A crack appeared in the ground, spreading rapidly as it raced toward Moon Knight. The earth on either side of the crack began to rise, forming two towering walls that closed in on him with a deafening crash. The force behind the move was immense—enough to crush steel, let alone flesh and bone.

But it was futile.

With a resounding bang, Moon Knight burst through the closing walls, emerging unscathed from what should have been a fatal trap. He was relentless, like a silver bullet that had been fired and would not stop until it hit its mark.

“Impossible,” the masked man muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief. His calm demeanor was gone, replaced by a growing sense of dread.

The white-clad figure before him was no ordinary opponent. There was something about him—something unstoppable, like a force of nature that couldn’t be reasoned with or deterred.

The masked man’s mind raced as he tried to comprehend what was happening. His earlier confidence was crumbling in the face of this relentless adversary. He could feel the cold grip of fear tightening around his heart.

“I don’t know who you are,” the masked man sneered, trying to regain his composure, “but no one can stand before the supreme Lytos…”

Before he could finish, Moon Knight closed the distance again, moving with blinding speed. The masked man raised his cane to block the strike, but Moon Knight’s fist was already there, slamming into the cane with such force that the ground beneath them trembled.

The impact sent the masked man flying backward, but he managed to twist in mid-air, landing on his feet with practiced agility. He gritted his teeth, realizing that his usual tricks weren’t going to work against this opponent.

With a surge of desperation, he channeled all of his energy into his cane. The ground in front of him suddenly dropped away, swallowed by a void of darkness. The very earth seemed to disappear, leaving behind nothing but a gaping chasm that stretched into infinity.

It was as if the masked man had erased the space between him and Moon Knight, leaving only an endless abyss that no one could cross.

But even that was not enough.

Moon Knight, undeterred by the disappearance of the ground beneath him, continued to advance. He walked across the void as if it were solid ground, his steps steady and unwavering. The sight was surreal, almost impossible, like something out of a cartoon where the laws of physics simply didn’t apply.

But here, it wasn’t funny. It was terrifying.

The masked man watched in horror as Moon Knight crossed the void, his white cloak billowing out behind him like the wings of an angel—or perhaps a reaper. Nothing could stop him, not even the erasure of space itself.

In a last-ditch effort, the masked man swung his cane at Moon Knight, aiming for a decisive blow. But Moon Knight caught the cane with one hand, effortlessly stopping the attack. With his other hand, he blocked a punch from the masked man, the force of their clash sending shockwaves through the air.

For a brief moment, they were locked in a stalemate, the masked man’s eyes cold and calculating. But beneath that cold exterior, there was a flicker of fear—a realization that he was up against something far beyond his understanding.

“You… can you see the ‘reality’?” the masked man asked, his voice trembling slightly as he stared into the eyes of his relentless foe.

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