Starting With Batman

Raya stood in stunned silence, her mind struggling to comprehend the gravity of what had just transpired.

Where is my Holy Tree? What happened to the patron saint tree?

Just moments ago, she had been arrogantly flaunting her newfound power to her friends, proudly showing off her "mother"—the invincible tree she had nurtured and revered. But now, the smugness that had filled her heart evaporated as quickly as it had come. She was frozen in shock, her skin turning pale as she tried to process the reality before her. The person who had stood confidently in the front row, basking in the glory of her achievements, was now utterly devastated. How could this happen? Her mother, the tree she had cherished and relied upon, had been stolen right out from under her by a madman dressed like a bat.

A careless loss of her mother, indeed.

For Raya, the patron saint tree had always been the epitome of invincibility. In her mind, it was a force of nature, a symbol of absolute power. She had believed with all her heart that before this mighty tree, all other beings were nothing more than ants, insignificant and powerless. She had even crafted elaborate fantasies where her tree mother would lead her on a conquest—punching through Nursing Homes and kicking down the walls of the all-to-cruel Kindergarten. This grand plan, one that she had been so eager to put into action, had been obliterated before it even began. Her mother, the tree, was gone.

"Impossible... this is absolutely impossible..."

Raya's thoughts were still tangled in the disbelief and horror of her shattered world when she noticed a figure approaching her. The air grew colder, and she could feel a sinister presence closing in.

From the shadows emerged a phantom clad in red, its form barely discernible beneath the flickering firelight. A pale, bloodless hand extended from under the crimson robes, and Raya's heart skipped a beat. The hand was as cold as steel, yet strong and unyielding, like a vice. It latched onto her throat with terrifying precision and lifted her off the ground with ease. Raya's legs dangled helplessly in the air as she struggled to breathe, the pressure on her windpipe growing unbearable. The phantom's fingers dug into her flesh, distorting her neck and cutting off her airway.

Gasping for breath, Raya's vision began to blur. Through the dim haze, she saw Fana—her once closest friend—standing before her, those light blue eyes now devoid of warmth, filled only with an eerie emptiness that sent chills down Raya's spine.

It was in this moment, as the last remnants of oxygen slipped away from her, that Raya realized something that made her blood run cold.

The girl who had once been her best friend, the one who had shared her dreams and fears, now truly intended to kill her.

"Fana...you want to give me..."

The words caught in Raya's throat, the sentence left unfinished as her body convulsed in a desperate attempt to draw in air. Her face twisted in agony, her lips turning blue from the lack of oxygen.

Fana's gaze remained fixed on Raya, the girl suspended in mid-air by her phantom's merciless grip.

Fana, the friend she had once cherished above all others.

Contrary to what many might think, Fana hadn't forgotten the events that transpired after leaving the orphanage. She remembered everything in vivid detail, especially every moment shared with Raya, her only true friend.

She recalled their clandestine adventures, sneaking out of the orphanage compound to explore the world beyond. Together, they had discovered the hidden cave, their secret sanctuary. Fana remembered the books they shared, the stories they whispered in the dead of night, the comfort they provided each other during those dark days of despair. They had been each other's lifeline, a source of hope in an otherwise hopeless existence.

She remembered it all.

But none of that changed anything now.

The phantom's grip tightened, its fingers sinking deeper into Raya's flesh, cutting off her air supply entirely. Raya's consciousness began to fade, her body going limp as darkness encroached on her vision.

"You broke the law," Fana's voice was cold, almost mechanical, as she spoke. "The infected... are eliminated."

Despite her words, Fana didn't deliver the final blow. Instead, she reached into her coat and retrieved a small, handheld device. It was a portable scanning unit, designed by Professor Miyazaki specifically for field agents like her. The device was meant to quickly assess the level of infection in potential threats, determining whether they posed enough danger to warrant immediate elimination.

Standard protocol dictated that agents could engage in combat with infected individuals only in self-defense. However, once the threat was neutralized, agents were required to scan the individual before executing them, ensuring that the infection level exceeded 40%. Only then was execution permitted.

Fana was nothing if not a stickler for the rules.

She had assumed that Raya, who had manipulated and controlled so many others, was a high-risk infected individual. Fana had been prepared to end her life on the spot. But as she scanned Raya with the handheld device, the readings that appeared on the display were completely unexpected.

The infection level was...zero.

Fana tilted her head slightly, her expression one of mild surprise as she studied the unconscious girl suspended in mid-air.

Raya was not infected.

The phantom in red released its grip, and Raya fell to the ground with a thud. She crumpled into a heap, gasping for breath, coughing violently as she greedily inhaled the stale, lifeless air that filled the cave.

"You are not," Fana repeated, looking down at the coughing girl, "infected."

In other words, every action Raya had taken, every decision she had made, was of her own free will. Nothing had compelled her—no external force, no infection. Everything she had done was what she truly desired.

Raya continued to cough, her lungs burning as she struggled to recover. Eventually, she managed to catch her breath.

"I just wanted what everyone else has," she rasped, her face still contorted in a grimace, making her appear even more twisted and grotesque. "Is that so wrong?"

"No."

Fana's voice was calm as she stepped forward, the phantom lifting Raya once more, but this time by her wrist.

With practiced precision, Fana pulled out a pair of black handcuffs and snapped them around Raya's wrists.

"But you broke the law," she stated with unwavering conviction.

Raya's eyes widened in shock and fear. She could feel her body trembling uncontrollably.

She had thought that by changing, by becoming stronger and more powerful, she could finally take what she wanted. She believed that she had become someone new, someone who could pursue her deepest desires without hesitation. But now, as she stood on the brink of losing everything, she realized that she had changed nothing. She was still the same helpless child, crying alone in the corner, desperate for someone—anyone—to hear her voice.

But the one who had truly changed was Fana.

At that moment, Raya felt an overwhelming sense of unfamiliarity and dread. The Fana who stood before her was not the friend she had known, but a stranger—a cold, detached enforcer of the law.

…

It wasn't long before the Special Service Division arrived at the scene. The area around the orphanage was quickly cordoned off with a thick line of tape.

Marcus, an agent from the Riverton Branch of the Ninth Secret Service, surveyed the scene, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. After receiving a briefing on what had transpired, he found himself casting admiring glances at Fana, who stood quietly to the side, her expression unreadable.

She had located the culprit on her own, single-handedly subdued multiple infected individuals, and captured the enemy.

No wonder Professor Miyazaki spoke so highly of her.

As the team continued their investigation, they discovered the true source of infection deeper within the jungle—a massive, grotesque tentacle tree that had clearly met its end.

When the agents found the tree, it was a pitiful sight. Its trunk was riddled with holes, and the once vibrant wood was now dry and lifeless. Broken branches and severed vines lay scattered around the base of the tree, evidence of a fierce battle.

Upon seeing the destroyed tree, Raya's emotions overcame her, and she rushed forward, tears streaming down her face as she cried out, "Mother, you died so miserably!" Her outburst left the agents momentarily stunned, unsure of how to react to the bizarre display.

In the hours that followed, the pieces of the puzzle began to come together. The analysts pieced together the events, unraveling the mystery of the infection.

"Based on the evidence and the corpses we've found, it appears that this is a plant-type infection source with relatively weak infectious capabilities," one of the analysts explained. "The infection process requires the target to ingest the tree's fruit or other body parts through the digestive system.

However, despite its weak infectious ability, the tree itself is a formidable entity. Its exterior is incredibly tough, and standard ammunition has little effect on it. High-explosive grenades or individual rocket launchers can penetrate the outer shell, but the tree seems to possess a self-healing ability similar to that of infected organisms. It can repair itself quickly, even after sustaining significant damage.

In addition to its durability, the tree uses vine-like tentacles to capture its prey, and its fruit appears to be a form of explosive. The tree can hurl these explosive fruits at targets, detonating them with considerable force. While we still need to conduct further tests to determine the exact blast radius and power, preliminary estimates suggest that it's quite potent."

As the analyst continued to speak, Marcus's expression grew more serious. He turned to Fana, who stood silently beside him, her gaze distant.

"You handled this on your own?" Marcus asked, incredulity creeping into his voice.

The description of the tree made it sound like a fortress—a target well beyond the capabilities of a single agent. Such a creature would typically require a full special operations team armed with heavy weapons to take down. The idea that one person, even an agent as skilled as Fana, could handle it alone seemed almost impossible.

But Fana shook her head lightly, indicating that she hadn't done it alone.

An investigator approached them, adding, "No, it wasn't her. It appears that Batman was the one who took down this tree-like source of infection."

"Batman?"

Marcus blinked, his previous disbelief vanishing in an instant, replaced by an expression of resigned acceptance.

At this point, the bizarre had become almost routine for the agents. The idea of one person taking down such a monstrous tree was ludicrous—unless that person was Batman. Suddenly, everything made sense.

"So, the source of infection is this tree," Marcus said, turning his attention to Raya, who sat in handcuffs, her eyes vacant. "And that girl—the one responsible for spreading the infection—is she just an ordinary person?"

"Yes," the investigator confirmed. "But regarding the source of infection...she said someone gave it to her."

"Someone gave it to her?"

"Yes. She claims that a man gave her the seeds of the tree and instructed her to plant them. The tree grew rapidly, and she was then told to use it to infect others, while she herself remained uninfected."

Marcus narrowed his eyes, his mind racing as he considered the implications.

This problem could be far more dangerous than the infection itself.

He approached Raya, crouching down to meet her gaze.

"Who gave you the seed?" he asked, his tone firm.

Raya lifted her eyelids, her eyes dull and lifeless as she glanced at him.

"A man," she replied coldly. "I didn't see his face. I was adopted by the Jordans at the time, and he came to the house looking for me. He showed his ID to the Jordans, said he was an official. They should have seen his face."

But the Jordans were now dead, lying among the fallen infected in the cave.

"But," Raya paused, a faint smile playing on her lips as she glanced at Marcus.

"He was wearing exactly the same clothes as you."

---

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