Chapter Text
“What do you mean Site-19 was purchased? That shouldn’t be possible?!” A middle aged, bespectacled man shouted from behind his desk, visibly irate. On a computer screen staring back at him was a woman of similar age, albeit smaller in stature and with significantly larger glasses.
“That’s what we thought too. But they bypassed all of our security measures, paid off Foundation assets managing our shell companies. To the public, it’s just a research facility. There was nothing we could do.” The woman informed him.
“How? Who has the finances and resources to circumvent every contingency we have in place? Were Foundation agents sent to amnesticize the threat?” The man asked.
“Immediately. We lost contact with Mobile Task Force Gamma-5 at 0500. They hadn’t even had the chance to send a single update, nor to transmit their emergency beacon.” The woman uttered with a cold indifference to her voice.
“Who could have done this?!” The man cried out with fury, slamming his fist on his desk, causing the computer monitor to shake.
“Bruce Wayne.” Came the woman’s only response.
***
A man in a well dressed suit walked into a facility in Portland, Michigan, causing most of the site’s employees to stop dead in their tracks. He stood at six foot-two, with blue eyes and neatly combed, black hair. He was well built, which was plainly visible even through his three-piece suit. The man walked with confidence and bravado, his dress shoes echoing loudly off of the cold, metal floor of the facility. When he finally came to a stop, he was positioned at a front desk, located just inside the facility’s walls.
“Hello, my name’s Bruce Wayne. I’m the new boss. Could you call your Site Director, please?” Bruce asked the man behind the desk, who gulped nervously, as he picked up the landline with a shaky hand.
“Um... sir? Yes sir. Yes, he’s here, what should I... um... yes, sir.” The man said nervously, before setting the phone back on its base with a thud, obviously louder than he’d intended. It took the man several tries to successfully hang up the line. He gulped and pulled at his collar, before looking up to meet Bruce’s expectant gaze.
“J-just a minute, M-Mr. Wayne...” The man stuttered. Bruce only smiled at him, but his gaze still sent a shiver of dread up the man’s spine. The man wished he was anywhere else, as Bruce only continued to smile down at him. Relief sunk into his very being, when a security guard walked over to their location.
“Follow me, sir.” The security guard informed Mr. Wayne, who followed without so much as another word. Before long, the security guard brought Mr. Wayne to a small room and ushered him inside.
“Mr. Hackett will be with you shortly.” The security guard informed Mr. Wayne, before stepping from the room and closing the door. The room was drab, a cold silvery metallic hue covering every surface, including the table in front of Wayne. The constant clicking of the clock, counting down the seconds, might have been enough to drive most people mad. But Bruce Wayne just waited patiently, with his hands folded atop the table’s cold, steel surface. The seconds turned into minutes, as the clock counted by, the only sign of the passage of time.
Before long, Bruce Wayne rubbed his head, his eyes giving signs of ever growing fatigue. His eyes became gradually more unfocused and his head lowered more and more, until his forehead touched the cold metal of the table. Just a few seconds later, as if on cue, the door opened and two figures stepped into the room. They both sported similar uniforms to his earlier escort and bore the same organization logo: three arrows pointing inward into a perfect circle, spaced exactly to divide the area between them into thirds, with the uppermost arrow’s back portion aiming directly north, and with an outline drawn around the entirety of the symbol, approximating its shape. One of the guards moved over to Bruce and placed her fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse.
“He’s out. Let’s get this over with.” She told the man who withdrew a syringe from a pack he carried and let out a small portion of fluid to expel any excess air from the needle. The man approached the still downed Bruce Wayne and moved the syringe toward his neck. Suddenly, Bruce sprang up from the table and grabbed the man’s arm in a vice-like grip. He used the man’s own weight to redirect his arm, stabbing the needle into the woman’s neck and pushing the plunger, turning her scream into a gargled moan, before she hit the table hard. The man tried to shout, but Bruce grabbed his throat with his free hand and squeezed.
“My, my, what was in that syringe? Was that just for me?” Bruce asked with a menacing tone. In response, the guard swung a fist and struck Bruce across the cheek. He followed up with a kick, causing Bruce to stagger and allowing the man to stumble backwards, until his back collided with the door. He went for his gun, but Bruce calmly raised his arm and a green mist shot from his sleeve, covering the man’s face. When the mist dissipated, the man looked on at Bruce with shock.
Bruce Wayne just smiled back at the guard, one of his blue eyes now a deep green, one of his contacts laying on the floor at his feet. The man had begun to perspire greatly, his heart rate skyrocketing. He gripped his chest, as his world began to blur. Then, suddenly, the man began to laugh; and laugh. What might have first been mistaken for panicked laughter quickly escalated into full on psychosis, as the man gripped his chest and gut in unison.
It wasn’t more than another moment, before the door busted wide open and no less than four guards aimed their handguns at Bruce. They then turned with horror to their comrades; one laying half awake, draped over the table, and the other in a state of absolute manic laughter. The woman on the table had a vacant expression on her face, her eyes wide and unfocused, a line of drool leaking from the corner of her mouth. “What can I say? I think she might have taken a little too much of... what is it you were going to give me, now?” Bruce asked the guards, unfazed by the weapons aimed at him.
The other guard continued to step around the room in a fit of uncontrollable laughter, before dropping to his knees. In a jerking, twisting motion, the man popped his head to the side with a violent crack and snap, before dropping lifeless to the ground, at his comrades’ feet. The color had drained from the other guards’ faces, as they watched one of their own break his own neck in a fit of hysteria. Through it all, Bruce Wayne didn’t lose his wicked, mocking smile. “Well... I believe you were about to show me to my new office. Please... lead the way.” Bruce said through his vile grin, lips pulling back to expose a wicked, toothy smile.
***
Jason Todd walked into the Batcave, to find Batman already typing intensely at his computer’s keyboard. “Why did you call me? Is it past your new protege’s bedtime?” Jason asked snarkily, before looking to his side. Standing there, staring daggers at him, was a young girl in her early teens. Her hair was black, with a streak of red down the left side, and her eyes were light blue in color. She was adorned in a red and green costume reminiscent of the hero partner often seen accompanying Batman, known as ‘Robin’.
“Where’d you find this one, Bruce?” Jason spoke in the same condescending tone, eliciting a grunt of anger from the girl.
“I’M right here, asshole.” She said to Jason, who was momentarily taken aback by the girl’s sharp tongue.
“Well, pardon me then. Do you know what he’s gotten you into?” Jason asked.
“I can make my own decisions. What’s this supposed to be anyway? Some sorta leather fetish?” She asked, gesturing to Jason’s biker gear and his red full face helmet.
“The name’s Red Hood. Maybe when you’re old enough to drive, I’ll let you borrow the bike.” Came Jason’s retort.
“Enough kids, play nice.” Batman said without looking over from his computer monitor.
Both Jason and Robin walked over toward him and looked at the screen. On display was a number of financial transactions and files pertaining to several businesses and other assets. “What is all this? Jason asked in confusion.
“Nearly two billion dollars USD were appropriated from Wayne Enterprises and used in the purchase of a number of small companies, leading to the acquisition of a large research facility located in Portland, Michigan.” Batman told them.
“Someone stole from you? Who’d have the nerve?” Jason asked with incredulity in his voice.
“The purchases were authorized by Bruce Wayne.” Batman informed him, which made Jason pause for a long moment, before responding.
“YOU’RE Bruce Wayne.” Jason finally said in bewilderment.
“And yet, these aren’t purchases I’ve signed off on. But whoever did has managed to circumvent every attempt at a trace of their location. They’re good.” Batman informed them.
“As good as you?” Robin asked with equal measures of doubt and apprehension in her voice.
“It seems so. Jason, I want you and Carrie to head to Portland, Michigan to investigate. With discretion. Jason.” Bruce said.
“What? I can be discreet.” Jason said indignantly, which made Carrie smile at him teasingly.
“Don’t start, birdgirl.” Jason snapped at her, before walking back toward his bike. Without so much as another word, Carrie followed close behind Jason.
***
A woman walked into ‘Bruce Wayne’s’ office, her jacket sporting the telltale ‘SCP Foundation’ logo on the upper left shoulder. “Have you found him yet?” Bruce asked without looking up from a small handheld device he was tinkering with. On a holographic projection being emitted from the small device was the display of a city street in total ruin. Then, it flipped to a fully intact city, albeit one sporting what she could tell were identical landmarks. Only after a long moment of silence did Bruce look up from his work.
“Um... n-no, sir. Arthur Hackett has fled the facility. We’ve been unable to locate him.” She answered nervously. Bruce just shrugged with indifference, before tinkering with the device some more. After a tense few moments, Bruce held up the device and aimed it toward the woman. She flinched when he pushed the button, but the created beam landed directly beside her, opening up a rift to another place.
“W-what is that?” She asked as Bruce got up from his seat and walked toward her and the rift. He smiled at her, the disturbing grin sending a shiver of fear up her spine.
“What do you know of the multiverse?” Bruce answered her question with another question.
“You... you can't be serious?” She uttered, staring at the rift in awe.
“Rarely. But I am a man of my word. An endless sea of universes, parallel worlds. And you Foundation stooges sit on your hands and try to keep the potential bottled up. You say it’s for the greater good. But so many of your pets could be incapacitated and locked away were the light fears to dwell. No, you crave knowledge and power more than you do the safety of those insects. I’m here to bring that darkness to light.” Bruce said with a wicked grin, the eerie purple glow of the rift reflecting in the brown of his eyes.
“Wh-what did you call ME for?” She asked. In a split second, he grabbed her around the upper arm and lifted her from the ground with just his own natural strength. A man burst into the office, just as he tossed the woman into the portal. They both watched as she made it through, only for the unstable vortex to rip her apart, leaving a splatter of blood on the sidewalk at the other end, causing that world’s civilians to enter into a frenzied panic.
“Hmm... needs more work.” Bruce said matter of factly. He then turned to the horrified man still looking at the portal, as it winked out of existence.
“You, um... you know we have D-Class for, um... for tests?” He finally choked out.
“D-Class?” Bruce asked.
“Y-yeah. D-disposable. Criminals and, uh... others. Homeless people, sometimes orphans. Undesirables, people no one would miss.” The man explained. After a moment, Bruce’s curious gaze again twisted into an amused smirk.
“You’re all disposable. Did you bring me what I asked for?” Bruce uttered with indifference, making the man shudder in place.
“Y-yes, sir. I don’t know why you’ve asked for this. But here you go.” The man wheeled a large metal case in from behind him. Bruce rubbed his fingers over the cold steel, before unlatching the case and swinging its lid open. What he saw inside was a fragment of ceramic depicting three Greek muses. On a plate on the inside of the case was the designation ‘SCP-960’. He reached out and was about to touch the vase when the man stopped him.
“WAIT! If you touch that, it’ll inspire you. But it’ll drive you mad. You’ll become obsessive, insane!” The man warned. At his warning, Bruce only smiled and began to laugh maniacally.
“Hahahahahaha! That’s okay, I’m already a bit mad.” Bruce finished his hand’s journey and touched the surface of the ceramic, as his eyes widened with sudden insight.
“Hey, I’m going to need your help with something!” Bruce suddenly declared, as he reached up his hand, moving it over the man’s shoulder to push the office door closed.
***
On a barren world, ravaged by an ice age, a large mechanical device stood, counting down to its impending activation. It was one of the only two signs of civilization on the entire glacial world. The other was a man standing within feet of the device. He was clad in an advanced armor, slate gray in color. On his chest was a stylized ‘o’ and his cape was cut into metallic plates to give the impression of feathers.
The man had the chance to deactivate the Quantum Eigenstate Device, the Q.E.D., a bomb capable of drawing power from the quantum realm in order to destroy an entire universe. He stared at the blinking screen for a long moment, before smiling.
“It doesn’t matter.” The man said with indifference. The moment the bomb began its detonation, a portal appeared underneath the man and he fell into the aperture. Not a second after the portal faded away, the bomb exploded, eradicating the frozen Earth’s reality in its entirety.
When awareness of his surroundings slammed back into him, the man got to his feet and looked around. “Who are you?” He asked of his unseen rescuer.
“Don’t you recognize me? Brother.” Bruce walked out of the shadows with a wide grin.
“You... you’re not HIM.” The man declared.
“No, I am not. I am neither the Batman you knew, nor your long deceased brother. But my interests and yours align. For the most part. This world’s Batman has allowed it to be swallowed by chaos. That’s where you, Owlman, come in. I’ve seen the way forward. Together, we can finish what you started. However, your methods were misguided. The destruction of that other place, your so-called ‘Earth Prime’, would have destroyed a few worlds. But there is another world, more closely connected to EVERY universe, every multiverse, in this grand tapestry. An Omniverse. I will help you find it. And I will help you bring all of this to an end.” Bruce declared.
Owlman was silent for a long moment, before he took a more relaxed posture and smiled. “So, where should we begin?” Owlman asked coldly.
