Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Akira's never trusted the Velvet room fully. After the whole Yaldaboth thing as well, he can't be sure they're actually all that good at what they do. The night after his 19th birthday he was visited again by them, given a mission to aid in cleansing a seeping corruption in a city he'd never heard of and the promise of coming home at the exact point he left, he had woken up in this new world. Time to start rolling with it…

Papers on the bedside table listed him as Akira Karusu, a Japanese emigrant, 19 years old, his correct date of birth and a right to work slip. A phone sat in the same place showed him the date. The day after his birthday. He supposed he was lucky. The year was wrong, though.

April 2nd 2020. Few years ahead of him…

He stood and stretched, feeling his spine popping. It felt great. Years of ballet and gymnastics really aren't kind on the body.

He took in the space he awoke in. A studio apartment about the size of his room back at Sojiro's. Here there was a double bed, a wardrobe on the opposite wall, a small kitchen and dining area along with living room. The room was cast in grey light, coming in through the pale curtains open on his right. His bed sat pushed into the top right corner of the room.

He seems to have lucked out, two windows in this place must have been a steal. He should thank the Velvet Room who no doubt set all of this up in their mysterious ways. A wi dkw above the bed and one in the living area.

He moved to the window and looked down I to the street. It wasn’t that busy and looked nice enough. He was definitely not in a high income area though. The building had an old feel to them. Not just the gothic architecture, but he could tell they were old. Probably not updated in any significant way since they were built. Just more modern electricity and plumbing.

Akira took his phone and laid back down. He had no reason to rush into anything just yet. Nothing looked the same. Through his pretty mediocre English and pattern recognition skils he figured out what everything did. There was one heart warmingly familiar sight though. The Meta-Nav. A smile crept onto his face as he pressed the black and red eye. The same prompts, the same layout.

A bit of research would be needed, and the sooner he had a target the better. He was out of practice though.

He shut the idea down as soon as it came to him. Running head first into Mementos in a city he's never been to before is a good way to get hurt. Instead he should familiarise himself with his temporary home.

He had spotted a wallet on the dining table earlier, sitting on top of papers that when seen revealed all of his bank information, and after just a few more minutes of rest he managed to get up. The wallet in question had a bank card and about 200 dollars in cash inside. He didn't want to count the coins right now.

Satisfied with that he found the remote and turned the TV on. News.

“Last night the Riddler was apprehended by Batman. After a series of city spanding puzzles putting whole building in jeopardy had Batman not solved them in time-”

Akira couldn't help but laugh. He had ended up in a world of Superheroes and Supervillains and still ended with his skinny ass coming in to help. Although learning about the local hero Batman would be a good idea, the more pressing matter was the lack of food in the apartment.

He needed breakfast and a coffee. Homemade is better, but store bought will have to do for now.

Checking the wardrobe showed a very standard set of clothes. Polos, tee shirts, jeans, blazers, thick jackets, comfortable shoes and scarfs.

Throwing on a pair of jeans, a grey shirt and a casual blazer he was out the door. He didn't imagine a Cafe would be very far. Keys were hung by the door, and after checking himself in the mirror and seeing that he was indeed himself. A set of glasses sat on a small console table. With that final touch, his outfit was complete.

Descending his building down into the street, his Third Eye was forcefully activated. He clutched his head as pain spiked through it. After recollection himself he was quickly made aware of everyone in the street carrying a weapon of some kind. A knife, a gun, one person he saw had brass knuckles pocketed casually next to his phone.

Shaking off his shock and Third Eye he got to walking with the flow of the crowd, and only a few buildings down there was a cafe. It was pretty empty, after all it was 9:30 am on a weekday. There were two employees at the counter and a person in the back corner on their laptop. The space itself was cosy. Warm lights, bean bags, booth seating and brown wood veneers everywhere.

“Can I get you anything?” The older woman at the counter called. She had a headband around her forehead. Grey and brown hair fell around it. She had deep wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Kind eyes reflected the orange toned lights in the cafe.

Akira smiled. “Yes, a latte and a breakfast sandwich.”

“Coming right up,” She grinned and got to work. As Akira took in the space more he saw a QR code that advertised a job position open. He decided to scan it, so getting work is probably a good idea.

“Not even had the coffee yet and you’re going for it?” The older woman asked.

“I’m new to the area.” He was careful with his words, wanting to seem as fluent in English as possible.

“Where are you from, then?” She placed the sandwich on the counter.

“Japan.” Akira shrugged.

“Nothing deeper?”

He snorted, “It’s complicated, I don’t wanna get into it.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” She assured, “Most people don’t end up in Gotham for good reasons.”

“Yeah.” He nodded.

After a few seconds the Older Woman piped up “I’m Elanor, by the way. I own this place. That’s my daughter, Fin, she works here with me and my Husband.”

Fin nodded at Akira. Lighter brown hair was cut short in a layered style, with her fringe covering one of her eyes.

“You ever made coffee before, kid?” She asked, presenting him with his.

Akira smirked, “I have, I spent a whole year living above and working in a cafe. Kept the habit up after I left. More use to pot coffee though.”

“It’s not that hard to get the hang of machines. We’re in need of help. Are you studying?”

Akira shook his head. “Good! Means you can work during the day. The only reason Fin’s here is because school’s not on today for her.”

“Some guy threw a molotov into the building yesterday. Wasn’t even a costumed villain or anything.” She grumbled. Akira was confused at how disappointed she sounded.

“Come in tomorrow at nine. We’ll give you a trial, so long as you have your right to work. If you do well we’ll do your paperwork to hire you.”

“That sounds perfect.” Akira grinned and went to sit down. He needed to do some shopping today. Basics. Food for the week. All the good stuff.

It was really good coffee. He’ll give the place that. Not Sojiro good, but good. Perhaps he’d have to pick up some tips here and bring them home. Sandwich was pretty good as well.

Finishing up he bid the mother-daughter duo goodbye and pulled his phone out to find a place to shop. Instead he found a library. He wasn’t in a rush, he supposed, and getting a feel for the culture of this new place would be a good idea…

He took the stairs two at a time and pushed the heavy doors open. It was an elegant place, fitting of the intricate architecture present in a lot of the buildings around, including this one.

“Welcome!” A bright voice called from the front desk. A woman with red hair leant forward from a wheelchair.

“Thank you.” Akira nodded. A curious flick of his Third Eye highlighted the woman in yellow, alongside a boy leant over a computer, seeming slightly distressed. Everyone else in the room was lit in blue.

Shaking his head he walked in and went to find a general history book.

Peter couldn’t catch a break. His whole universe being made to forget who he is, in addition to suddenly getting pulled into a new one. He sat at a computer in the library desperately trying to do his due diligence and figure out what he needed to know. The deeper he went the more confused he got. Here there were no Avengers, Stark Industries, Asgardians or Thanos. The Justice League was the closest superhero thing he could find.

He was in Gotham, which was Batman’s territory. Alongside his gaggle of sidekicks. They all seemed rather aggressive. Most combatants come out with broken bones and fractured faces. When he’s Spider-Man he tries not to hut the regular guys that much.

He had punched Batman in the face when he stumbled into a dark alley last night, shaken by the sudden shift in universe. In his defence most of his villains wore dark costumes… The sidekick he was with thought it was funny though.

A jolt of his Spider-Senses caused him to look up, worried that a villain had just entered the space. But all he saw was a skinny asian boy not much older than him walking past. The jolt alerted him to the guy, but in general he had a strong “If you get into a fight with me it won’t be at all easy” vibe around him. Large framed glasses hid calculating and cunning eyes.

He returned to his frantic research. There was far too much to learn. Going down a rabbit hole of the local rogue’s gallery, learning about the Joker, Poison Ivy, Bane… There were so many.

His Spider-Sense light poked at him, drawing his attention to the scary stranger. Messy black hair covered his face, obscuring his face as he looked down and read. He wasn’t uneasy because he was there, but his Spider-sense pulled at him uncomfortably to keep an eye on him.

He looked down at his recently Jail-Broken phone, having gotten it to work with this world’s internet. He could leave and find an abandoned building to hide out in, and it was warming up into the warmer seasons so he wasn’t that worried about freezing. He was getting weird vibes from the lady at the desk as well, she seems nice but he didn’t doubt he would regret going across her.

After a few more minutes he watched the dark haired guy stand from the nearby desk and make his way over to the desk, from where he was he heard the full conversation.

“Hi, I’m new to Gotham, would I be able to get a card?”

“Yeah of course! Do you have some ID I can see, name and address?”

“Yeah, just let me grab it,”

“No rush, I can get it started, what’s your name?”

“Akira Karusu,”

“Nice to meet you, Akira, I’m Barbera Gorden,”

“You’re phone’s going a bit crazy right now,”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, my family’s got a lot going on right now.”

“All good, hears the ID.”

“Thank you, oh, you don’t live far from here!”

“Yeah, I moved in only a few days ago.”

“You picked a good spot, it’s usually a bit safe around here.”

“That’s good to hear,”

“Alright, I’ll also check the book you have out… And you should be good. Hope to see you around!”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

He watched Akira bow slightly and he swiftly left the building.

The PC here was so nice, it ran well and everything loaded at a speed that pleased him., but he couldn’t sit here all day, and he had read that there were laws around kids not being in school, and he didn’t wanna get stopped and have to prove he’s eighteen when he didn’t have a valid ID number on him.

Slowly he slid out of the chair and took his phone, quickly making his way to the door.

“Hey, kid!” The lady at the desk called. He winced and made his way to the desk himself.

“Do you want a library card?”

An innocent enough question. But it shook him, he didn’t have a valid ID on him.

“Ah, no, sorry, I don’t have my ID on me right now.”

“That’s okay, I can give you a temporary card until next time you come back, if you want.”

“I don’t remember my new address.”

“That’s okay, we don’t need to do anything right now, but it’s always an option. What’s your name?”

Peter took a moment. He might as well be honest.

“Peter.”

“Nice to meet you Peter, I’m Barbara. Come back any time.”

“Thanks Ms.” Peter smiled and quickly rushed out of the Library. He shook himself and opened his phone, finding a list of abandoned buildings in Gotham. Quite a helpful website, it seems to be compiling these buildings for repair.

The closest one was only a few streets away. He could hide out there for the rest of the day then go out and use what little cash he had on him to get some food.

He was in for it…

Bruce sat at the Bat-Computer nursing a black eye from the kid that had hit him the night before. He had put a description out to his family so they all knew to keep an eye out for him. The kid was shaking and looking around hurriedly. Poor kid.

Barbara had messaged him that she spotted a kid who looked like him at the library getting more and more worked up while he used the computer.

Bruce frowned.

“Hey B!” Dick flopped onto the back of the chair. Bruce took a deep breath.

“Good morning, Dick.”

“How’s your face?”

Bruce grunted, “I’m fine, bit sore but it’s not impairing me or anything.”

Dick nodded. “I’m gonna go out solo tonight, you know what do do if you need help.”

Bruce nodded and turned his attention back to his research. It was going to be okay, kids are looked after well enough in Gotham’s street. He looked young.

He just hoped the kid was alright.

Chapter Text

Akira was thankful to have found a place to work so quickly, or at least a place so willing to hire him. He had apparently more than satisfied Ms. Elanor with his coffee and had been asked to stay on and help out that day as a trial. Not like he had much else to do and the offer for free lunch was too good to pass up. It was a quiet little spot, which Akira appreciated. He discovered that Elanor’s husband, Aaron, worked back in the kitchen.

There was a TV in the cafe that played the news which Akira paid his attention to. Most of it was about the Supervillains, Vigilantes and Bruce Wayne. He didn’t want to even think about running into a Supdervillain’s mind right now, if those twisted souls already acted in the ways that they were he had no doubt their internal worlds would be more then willing to crush him in their jaws.

For the most part the news was about Bruce Wayne and his company. Mr. Wayne seemed to be into funding the right stuff, education, green energy, shelters, but that doesn’t mean he’s clear. Perhaps a check in on the local billionaire wouldn't be a bad idea. Now that he actually got to thinking about it in between serving customers and some idle chat with Elanor, going after at least a higher up in Wayne Enterprises wouldn’t be a bad idea. It would show that he means business, at least.

It was just after school and Fin had come in. After a rush Akira was getting ready to head off when another customer came in.

“Tim!” Fin smiled, “How’s it going? Didn’t get a chance to talk at school today.”

The dark haired boy, Tim, shrugged, “We don’t share a lot of classes, art girl.”

Fin rolled her eyes, “Yeah, well, I’m sorry Mr. “Future CEO of Wayne Enterprises”, I happen to actually enjoy seeing sunlight.”

Tim chuckled, “What, going out to paint en plein air nowadays, are we?”

“You get what I mean,” Fin shook her head, “The usual?”

Tim winked, “You know it. Who’s the new guy?” He jerked his head towards Akira, who turned his head from the TV. He had been listening to the conversation idly.

Akira smiled politely, “I’m Akira. I’m just on trial, don’t mind me.”

“‘On Trial’,” Elanor chimed in, “You’ve done well today, kid, you definitely have a job now!” She grabbed Akira by his shoulders from behind, a smile plastered on her face.

“Glad to hear you’ve got some help around here,” Tim said, “I know it’s not the busiest place in the city, but you need it.”

“You’re so nice, Tim,” Fin sighed, “Akira, how about you make Tim’s drink? You’ll probably be covering for me so I can actually have a life outside of this shop and school, and Tim comes past almost every day...”

Akira sighed, “Sure, but you’ll have to tell me how you take it.”

Tim proceeds to floor Akira with his order. He would never dream of having that much caffeine in one sitting. Maybe he gave Akechi that much, but some of that was probably because he thought it would be funny to see him get jittery, not because he thought it would do him any good. Looking at Tim’s face closer up showed that he was hiding some of the worst bags he had ever seen and a black eye with makeup. Maybe he did need it.It not like it was completely unreasonable, but not your everyday cup of coffee.

Making it was a breeze and when presented with his coffee Tim just left. Akira really wanted to see his reaction.

Tim was walking outside and Akira watched through the large windows as he took a sip, eyes widening, his eyes flicked back to Akira and he left. Akira smirked and got set on cleaning up and heading home for the day.

Peter woke up cold and sore. He found a covered space, sure, but this building hadn’t had heat in for a while that wasn’t just the air’s temperature. There was no electricity and no water and he was dressed in the clothes he showed up in. Jeans, a graphic tee, a loose flannel and converse.

He felt weak after not eating at all yesterday. Or drinking water, for that matter. That was a mistake but he didn’t exactly have a lot of money in his pocket. It’s moral to steal from billionaires, he thought as he pulled his phone up. With Ned’s help (God he missed Ned so much, not that he could think about that a lot right now) he had learnt to create accounts almost anywhere. Ned probably thought it would be used for vigilante information gathering stuff, and that was the intention, but here he was, creating a government paper trail and a bank account.

After a complex series of events he took 500 dollars out of local billionaire Bruce Wayne’s account. Peer had never seen that much money in one place in his life. He knew Mr. Stark heald a lot of his money in assets, Mr. Wayne didn’t seem like the type.

His life was truly saved when he saw that the bank he hacked had an app he could use and attach a card to. With a way to spend his ill-gotten gains he looked to find a place to eat.

A street over back towards the library Peter found a small cafe. Peter became just one of many faces Akira saw his first day, and not a face he would remember.

A few ham and cheese croissants would have to do for now alongside a warm mocha. He decided to go back to the library after he ate his meal in the corner of the cafe. With any luck Ms. Barbara would be there again and he could do some more research. He was a high school graduate. That was another paper he should probably fake before he got in trouble for not being in school.

Barbara knew it wasn’t a good sign when the lost looking kid from yesterday came back in wearing the same clothes he had on then. He looked like he hadn't slept well. She frowned, but didn’t want to push him. Maybe she could slowly build a relationship with the kid and figure out what was wrong.

He came up to her first today. “Ms. Barbara, I’m sorry I still don’t have my address, but am I okay to stay and read?”

She smiled softly, ignoring whatever messages were coming in from Duke right now. “Of course, no rush, there’s plenty of places to sit. Come talk to me if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Peter smiled and started to look at the shelves. After a moment of watching him she grabbed her phone to deal with Duke.

Peter made his way to the bathroom to guzzle water from the tap and clean himself up a bit. His hair was less than on point. After drinking as much water as his body could handle he wet his face and hair. The blow dryer worked well enough to dry him and he looked better. He could feel the water in his system again as well. It was small, but he felt better.

He found an old comfort book, the Wishing Chair, and settled in to read.

Akira sat in his apartment running names through the Meta-Nav. Bruce Wayne returned no result, neither did Tim Drake-Wayne. He did have a feeling this would be the case, but he would rather be safe than sorry. The CFO of Wayne was clear and so was one Mr. Lucius Fox who seemed to run a lot of the company on behalf of Bruce.

The COO was where he had his first hit. James Ruthers. Looking into him before he actually committed to the target, Akira discovered a history of getting out of embezzlement charges, Bruce and Tim when he acted as CEO in Bruce’s absence both trying to find evidence to fire him and multiple accounts from employes of misconduct in pretty much every way you could imagine. He hasn’t been with the company long, less than 5 years, and it seems in that time he’s made plenty of enemies.

This works.

Tim walked into the library that day to help Barbara with some stuff she can’t do. He was still in awe of the coffee in his hands. Not saying that the cafe has bad coffee, but this was next level. Where did they find that Akira guy?

During the few hours he was there he watched a guy around his age going through books like crazy. According to Barbara he’s been in the library pretty much all day. To be nice about it, he looked rough. His clothes were crumpled, dirt and dust on his face was pushed around that made him look cleaner than he really was.

He kept his eye on him the whole time. Curled up on one of the couches half watching as Tim moved boxes and helped Barbara reach some places she couldn't. He even watched as he and Barbara walked into the back area.

“What’s your read on the guy?” Barbara asked as soon as the door closed.

Tim sighed, “At the very least he’s homeless, probably not local, and younge.”

Barbara nodded and rolled into her desk. “He has a new york accent, so he’s not far from home.”

“Then what’s stopping him from going back. Could be that he doesn’t even have the money to get public transport back, he could have gotten run out by someone there, or he could be here under orders from someone.”

“Maybe he’s one of those guys that willingly goes homeless?”

“I guess that is a possibility, but he just doesn’t seem the type. He was watching me. He might be on edge or something. What are you doing?”

Barbara was on one of her many computers scrolling through one of the hundreds of databases she has access to. “I’m looking for any missing person that fits his description, he told me his name is Peter so I’m checking those first.”

“Curly brown hair, brown eyes, caucasian,” Tim listed, “I’m sure he’ll be so easy to find.”

Barbara glared at him over her shoulder quickly. “I’m filtering by ‘recent’ for now, but he could also have been missing for a while and only recently gotten out of whatever situation he was in.”

“He’s got a pretty even tan, there’s no way he’s been locked inside somewhere.”

“He could have had access to a yard or something.”

“Like a literal state prisoner?”

“I don’t know! Maybe he’s an ex-juvie kid! We don’t know.”

“Then we can just watch him. He seems like a quiet guy but he clearly doesn’t mind the library, so let’s just see if we can get something out of him over time.”

“Didn’t you have to go meet Jason somewhere tonight? Don’t you have to go get ready?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Tim sighed. It’s not like he doesn’t like spending time with Jason, but something must have recently set him off because he has been more old school Red-Hood then what they had gotten used to. He’d brought it up to Dick and he just brushed it off saying that he gets like that sometimes. He’s been worse for a month. Maybe dealing with this thing tonight will help him get back to his usual, oh so loveable, self.

He went back out into the library proper and started to call Alfred when he saw the guy had moved on to another book. What a weirdo.

Peter enjoyed reading enough, but when it was the only thing you could really do to pass the time you would love it as well. He wasn’t reading anything particularly challenging, mostly some childhood favourites that exist here. He’s still trying to get used to that. He isn’t in his New York, he’s in a strange city called Gotham where the Avengers have never existed and there is no record of a Peter Benjamin Parker other than the one he made for himself.

These books were a good distraction but he really needed to figure something out for himself. The longer he sat here the hungrier he got as well. 500 dollars wasn’t sounding like a whole lot anymore.

He half heartedly put back the Red Dwarf copy and headed for the door where Barbara has retaken her post,

“Not checking anything out?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“No, sorry,” He said, “I still don’t remember my address.”

That’s all good,” She did not believe that for a second, did she? “Stay safe, it’s getting late.”

“Thank you Miss.” Peter smiled as he made for the door.

“See you, Peter.”

Saturday the 4th of April, Akira had been dragged back into the cafe to help out. Fin was nowhere to be seen and Aaron had his assistant on today, a guy his age called Julias.

He had filled out a bunch of paperwork that morning to actually clear him to work as a part time employee and he was given a schedule. Working from mid morning every Monday, Wednesday and Friday and all day Saturday.

It was around noon when Tim dragged himself into the cafe alongside an older guy. They flopped down into one of the booths by the windows, both head on the table and Elanor tilted her head at them, indicating it was his responsibility.

“Hi, what can I get you two?” standard, neutral, nothing presumptive because this guy looked far too old to be dating Tim. Family?

“Akira, thank god you’re here,” Tim grabbed onto the edge of his apron which he didn’t appreciate, “I need a coffee with as much caffeine as you are willing to put into it, my friend, and add sugar. Black is fine.

Akira shrugged, “You might as well just be chewing coffee beans at that point but sure, what about you?”

“Latte,” The man mumbled, “Large, like twice the usual amount of coffee if you could, I need it. Two sugars.”

“Two sugars? Getting bold today, Dick.” Tim smiled, propping his head up on his chin to look at him.

“After what we got run through last night I am in need.” He winced as he sat up.

“Want anything to eat?” Akira cut in.

“Yes, please,” ‘Dick’ sighed, “Large breakfast bowl with extra meat, tell Aaron it’s Dick’s order and he’ll do it.” Oh. His name is actually just Dick. Or it’s a really unfortunate nickname. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Satanael laugh. Comforting.

“All right, and Tim?”

“If you get me the two biggest croissants in the display and stuff them with ham and cheese I’ll tip 100% percent.” What an offer, not one he was eager to refuse either.

“It’ll be done. Is that all?”

“Basket of fries. Starter.” Dick started down Tim on the other side of the table. A silent challenge passed between the two that Akira wanted nothing to do with.

Order confirmed he went and gave Aaron the order, telling him it was from Dick and Tim. Aaron smiled fondly and set to work.

Akira on his end made a show out of getting the two croissants for Tim, discreetly showing off that they were in fact the biggest ones made for the day. He knew Tim was watching at that point so he shoved as much ham and cheese as he could into them before Elanor got over suspicious of him and his use of produce. He put them in to toast and started on their drinks. Black coffee so rich in caffeine it could make the average person’s heart palpitate just by sipping it, and an extra strong latte with two whole teaspoons of sugar inside.

While he was working he watched the fires come out and get smashed by the two, fighting to see who would get the last one. Dick was victorious and Tim swore revenge.

He was quick to present them with their coffees and Tim with his far to stuffed croissants.

“Oh wow,” Tim gasped, “This thing is packed.”

“It's what you asked for,” Akira shrugged, “We better see that tip, mister ‘Future CEO of Wayne Enterprises’.” He resisted the urge to wink over his shoulder. Quite barista Akira is the go for now.

“We should go for a walk tonight, Trickster,” Satanael whispered in his mind.

“Why’s that?” Akira set to cleaning his station.

“You haven't seen a lot of the city yet, it would be wise to do so.”

Akira hummed. He should get to know Gotham before he gets ahead of himself. But that also didn’t really stop him from diving head first into Kamoshida’s Palace. One more night. He’ll wait one more night. The Palace isn’t going anywhere.

“You’re a good set of hands,” Elanor said, “I need to run out for a bit, doctors appointment, watch the store for me.”

Akira nodded, “Will do.”

The news took up his hearing as he idly cleaned the counters and a table a customer left, all in all it wasn’t much different from the news he was used to getting back home with the large expectation that he didn’t have a guy called Superman running around shooting lasers out of his eyes.

“Last night Nightwing and Red Robin were seen working with known Crime Lord Red Hood. Seen in the docks they reportedly took down an entire ship's worth of Penguin’s men and destroyed whatever it was carrying. Reports from the criminals say that Red Hood was pushing the vigilantes incredibly hard. We’ll keep you updated as more information comes out.”

Chapter Text

Gotham was always cold, no matter the time of year, just how cold it was changed. Bruce was silently glad he made his suits so bulky, they isolated well. He quickly scanned his surroundings, the sun was setting over Gotham, an orange tinge to the horizon of the perpetually overcast city.

He was out tonight with Red Robin and Nightwing. Dick wasn’t going to be in Gotham much longer, based on his pattern of behaviour and his outing last night with Jason. He was surprised that either of them felt good enough to come out on patrol without falling over on the way out of the cave. At least Dmaien got to actually rest. He should look into Jason, this is not the first time he’s gotten strange in the past month.

He was in the university district, just across from the library. The line was quiet for now. So was the crime tracker. The sun hadn’t quite set yet after all. And if it keeps like this much longer he would get worried.

He leapt off the roof, feeling the air whip around him before deploying the grapple hook. He didn’t get far, just down the street, before he heard his first incident of the night.

A shout came from nearby, and Bruce quickly flipped up on top of a building and listened. A thug yelling at someone to hand over their wallet. He got closer but whoever was getting mugged was silent.

“What, you deaf, brat?” The thug shouted. Bruce peered over the ledge and saw three brutes taking on a skinny guy. The guy clutched his bag hard, looking down. One of the thugs had his arm on the wall beside the guy, blocking him from running anywhere except deeper into the alley.

Batman quietly descended into the alley, standing behind the group. He squared himself up to his full height and cracked his knuckles. The thugs startled and turned and Batman threw a punch. It connected with the bald one, sending him back into the greasy one. The thug threatening the guy gave Batman a horrified look before making a break for it. Batman wouldn’t let that happen and used his grappling hook to trip him. With the rope firmly around his ankle Batman dragged him back by retracting it.

Baldy had stood and went to swing at Batman. He dodge under and flung his arm causing the Leader to fly into Baldy’s side. Both let out grunts as they collided. Greasy had a wood board and smashed it over Batman’s head, but after he hardly moved knew it was a mistake. He rounded on Greasy and landed a punch in the left side of his jaw, taking Greasy out of the fight. Baldy recovered and ran at Batman, picking him up and slamming him on the wall. Batman hissed in pain but started wailing on the guy’s head. The sound of a gun’s safety being taken off alerted him and he saw the Leader levelling a magnum at his head. The guy however slammed into the side of the Leader, sending him stumbling long enough for Batman to get out of Baldy’s hold and start choking him out.

The frizzy haired guy disarmed the leader and held him at point as Baldy fell. Batman leaped from his shoulders and closed the distance, jabbing the Leader in his side. He collapsed and Batman quickly knocked him out.

Frizzy sighed as he lowered the gun, flicking the safety back on. He adjusted his glasses and turned to the vigilante.

Batman got a good look at the guy. Asian, dark hair, wearing nice enough clothing, nothing rich but clearly he had some amount to spend. He nervously fidgeted with the collar of his turtleneck eyeing the weapon in his hand.

“I have to take that, you know.” Batman said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah.” He replied, holding it out by its barrel, presenting Batman with the grip. He took it with a grunt and placed it in his belt behind him.

“Are you okay?” Bruce defeated a little, hoping to look friendlier.

“I am,” He mumbled, “Just a bit shaken, I should be okay soon.”

“What were you doing out?” Bruce asked, noting the accent Frizzy had.

“I was out for a walk after work,” Bruce noticed that Frizzy was being deliberate with his words, “I’m new to Gotham, wanted to get familiar with my surroundings.”

Bruce nodded. “I would rush home if I were you, Gotham’s not safe after dark. It’s not even that safe during the day.”

Frizzy sighed, “I know, my boss warned me, I tried making it back before sunset. But that didn’t go well.”

“Would you like an escort home?” Bruce offered.

Frizzy shook his head. “I live on this street, I’ll be okay.”

Bruce nodded, “Take care, kid.”

Frizzy nodded back, “You too.”

Did Akira really just say “You too” to fucking Batman? No way. He refuses to believe this. He watched the vigilante ascend into the rooftops with this grappling hook. He is going to be thinking about this for a while. Especially when he starts actively messing with him through his acts as the Phantom Thieves of Hearts. Or maybe Thief of Hearts? It’s only him, after all. He hadn’t really thought about it. Thieves sounds cooler, makes it sound like an actual organisation and not just one guy. He’ll go with that for now, even if it’s just to comfort him. His friends are back home. They’re safe. It’s fine.

Akira started walking back home. His friends weren’t here. It hadn’t sunk in that he was going in alone. That he really was going to be the only one. The only Persona user in probably the whole universe. He reached out to his bonds but they felt so distant. Their comfort all the way back home.

He only had one Persona and no confidant links to go in with. Not that Satanael was weak or anything, but he had released the others after he was done. He didn’t need them. He wished he had hung on, but they had other places to be. Satanael was his true other self. He couldn’t truly leave.

He felt bittersweet unlocking the door to his apartment. It was dark, the corners of the room cast in dark grey as the sun set lower behind the horizon. He set his back and keys on the otherwise empty console table. He hadn’t been hurt by those guys, thankfully. He flopped onto the couch and barely had enough energy to flick on the TV.

Bruce had thought Frizzy would have run. Most people with sense run off when they get saved from muggings. Maybe he had been frozen on his tracks or something and the gun made him unfreeze? Also how familiar he was with a piece like that, flicking the safety on somewhat absentmindedly while he was clearly zoning out? Something was weird.

He sees weird stuff all the time to be fair. Just log it, Bruce, set it to the side and if it ever comes up again you have it.

Peter enjoys high places. He’s not sure if it’s because of the Spider though. As the sun fully set he had crawled on top of the building he was staying in. High above the crime ridden streets below his legs kicked idly over the ledge. An itch at his neck urged him to leap, to swing, to fight, but he was without all of his equipment. He’d need to figure that out.

This city wasn’t safe, he’d seen enough to know that. He spent his days at the library and bouncing around the local cafes hearing all about the rampant crime in Gotham. Any reasonable person would leave. But Peter couldn’t fight the feeling this is where he should be right now. There had to be a reason.

As the wind whipped his hair around his face he stared. The view from up here was peaceful, it was far more quiet than down on the street. He had grabbed a sleeping bag and some extra clothes today, he should set up on the top floor for now.

His Spider-Sense pricked as feet landed on the building behind him, listing closer he could hear them walking towards him. Peter resisted the urge to look as the figure dropped down onto his roof.

“Hey kid, would you be able to come back from the ledge a bit?” The voice asked. Peter swung his legs back around towards the inside of the building and stood. The shin high lip was thick enough for a good sit. He took a few steps towards the figure, taking him in. A black suit with blue accents. He was pretty sure this one was that Nightwing guy he had read about.

“Thank you,” He sighed, “Mind telling me what you’re doing up here?” He placed his hands on his hips.

Peter folded his arms. “It’s quiet. I can actually think up here.”

“I can understand that, this city’s always got something going on.” He shrugged and took in Peter’s appearance, “The streets aren’t kind to people. If you need a place to stay there’s a shelter not far from here.”

That sounded busy and noisy, no thank you.

“I’ve got a place to stay, but thank you.”

Nightwing tapped his chin, looking at Peter quizzically. “I’ve run into you before, you punched Batman.”

Peter winced. That is something he did, isn’t it. “Yeah, is he okay?”

Nightwing laughed, “You gave him a black eye, sure, but he’s gotten far worse. Still, good job on clocking the old man like that. Not many actually land hits on him.”

Peter smirked, “He made it easy, no guard at all.”

Nightwing went to say something but touched his hand to his ear, listening. An ear piece. Peter couldn’t make out the words from where he was other than “B needs help”... … … “Take it easy”...

“I’m on my way.” Nightwing dropped his hand. “I’ve got some business to deal with, stay safe, get home soon it still gets pretty cold at night.”

Peter nodded and watched Nightwing flip off the building and with all the grace of an acrobat he flew across the city with his grappling hook. Peter watched him until he couldn’t see him and climbed down into the building, ready to set in for the night.

Today was Akira’s Sunday off, upon further inspection the cafe just wasn’t open today. He had seen a cross up in the kitchen yesterday but didn’t really think much of it.

The location had been easy for mr. James Ruthers. The Wayne Enterprises Building. So, setting up in a side alley close to the building was good enough for Akira. Here he started guessing Distortions.

First guess was Castle. Basic, but not correct, then Bank and then Treasury, Neither hit. His fourth guess was correct, however. Keep.

“Match Found” Echoed from his phone as reality rippled around him, with one final check to make sure no one was coming with him he slipped through into the Palace.

Loud streets became quiet, the already dark sky darker. THe first sound Akira heard was metal on metal. Scraping. He was facing the brick wall of the alley in front of him. He counted.

The metal would scrape for two seconds, then rest for five, then it would go again. This constant pulse from somewhere to his right grated on him. Constant. Two. Five. Two. Five.

He could feel the tails on his Joker jacket against his legs. The way his pants sat and the collar of his vest. The comfort of his Phantom Thief outfit. Breath in. Breath out. Breath in. Breath out.

He walked out onto the street and got briefly blinded by how bright the Wayne Enterprises building had become. Adjusting, he saw countless floodlights pointed onto the building. What was once mental and glass had become brick and cement. It was one main tower, with the parapets and everything. Around it were high walls and small buildings. Akira sneered.

The metal scraping ended up being a gate. Opening, two, open, five, closing, two, closed five.

Two… five… two… five… two… five… two… five…

Out the front of the gates there were people. Abstractions, broken down into cartoonish paper cut outs.They pressed against the gates, trampling each other, trying to slip through the gaps that they should be able to, had they just turned to the side. The gate opens, some get through, the gate closes, some get crushed, the press against it. Over and over again.

Two… five… two… five… two… five… two… five…

He shook himself. These were representations. Nothing he hadn’t seen before. He stared up at the top. It didn’t stand much taller than it’s real life counterpart, however dark clouds seemed to wrap around it and pour out into the sky in a spiral. It fed the storm engulfing Gotham. Lighting struck on odd intervals only adding to the absolute cacophony of sound. The constant beat of the gates and the occasional cracks of thunder and charge of lightning.

Deep breaths, Akira.

The front door was too obvious for a thief like himself, so he started to look around the outside. He desperately tried to ignore how awful the metal was.

Tim sat at his desk in the Manor with a cup of black tea clutched in his grip. Recently there was a mass escape from Arkham meaning everyone was working overtime. Gotham PD was as helpful as ever, giving them no information unless it was through Gordon. But even he wasn’t being given everything now-a-days.

He was going over Bruce’s account of what he did last night. The first incident had caught his eye due to the victim in question matching Akira’s description. What interested him the most was how Bruce described him handling the gun. If it had just been an account of Akira almost getting robbed he would have scrolled past it and gotten to the rest of the report. Almost getting robbed is like an initiation into Gotham. But he handled the gun like he was familiar with them.

Tim wasn’t overly knowledgeable about Japanese gun laws, sue him, but he was sure it was almost impossible to get your hands on them. Even the police who had guns had six shot revolvers. This was a proper pistol. All sense pointed to the fact that Akira should not know how to use a gun with any proficiency unlike what was described here.

No one ends up in Gotham for good reasons. No one.

Akira found a grate. He was almost 90% sure it would lead to a sewer but he wasn’t upset about that. Kamoshida’s dungeon back in his Palace almost definitely doubled as a sewer and no one ever addressed it so he just wasn’t going to think about it.

He gripped the bars and tapped into Satanael’s strength pulling the grate clean out of the ground.

Placing it to the side Akira dropped into the hole. Landing in a roll he took in the brown stones. Moss covered parts of it and it was humid.

“It’s quiet, Trickster,” Satanael hummed, “Take it slow.”

He was more than glad to do so. The ground was wet, every step felt like he was about to slip. Slow. The tunnels themselves were rounded, sewerage running through the lowest part with pathways built up around the side out of concrete. His footsteps echoed uncomfortably.

After a few minutes in this torturous silence and around a few bends he found another grate. With no patience he summoned Satanael into space and made him do it. Akira leapt up and found himself in some bathroom on the first floor. The thing that struck him the most was how modern it looked compared to the outside of this Palace. Light blue tile ran around the floor and halfway up the wall with white taking up the rest of the wall and the ceiling.

He quickly made his way out of the toilet and into the light grey halls of the Palace. It was almost a blessing they weren’t fully white. Almost.

Once again the modernity present inside was in stark contrast with the exterior of the building. Akira imagined this is probably what the inside of Wayne Enterprises looked like in the real world. As he scanned the hall he noticed something. There was a dull glow on the walls resembling circuits. He approached and traced his hand across them. His Third Eye plunged the rest of the world into deep grey tones but the circuits glowed green. They were carrying signals to… Somewhere. Somewhere above him.

He stopped using his Third Eye and was met with dull blue pulsing from the circuits. The wall was smooth when he ran his hand over it. A mystery he was sure he would solve when he got up to the top.

Akira pushed off the wall and made his way down the hall. He could sense shadows everywhere around him but he hadn’t seen any yet. It set him on edge. As he came close to a bend he ducked down and hid against the wall to check around it, still, nothing. He ran his tongue over his teeth, with the energy he was sensing he was sure he would have run into some by now.

The hall was empty. Too empty. He focused on his senses. Were the shadows… In the walls? No. That’s ridiculous. But that’s where the circuits are. He continued. Soon he found a gap in Cognition. A door that didn’t fit. Wooden. Hazy. He opened and stepped through. The Safe Room welcomed him. It must have been a janitor's closet in the real world. It was small and filled with cleaning supplies when it faded out for a second, before fading in and showing a still small room but with wires hanging.

Akira took a deep breath. It came out shaky. It was too quiet. No Shadows. Nothing. He didn’t have his team. He didn’t have anyone except himself. Deep breaths.

After taking some time to settle down he entered back into the hall. He was face to face with a set of double doors. He cracked his neck and knuckles before pushing the doors open.

He was at the back of a reception area. There were a few Shadows here and he quickly ducked behind an empty desk. Taking a peak around it he took in the sight. The reception was white. White floors, white walls, white Greco Roman columns.The desks were a rich dark wood with proper rollering chairs and footrests. PCs sat on the desks. They seemed a little 2000s, though. Thick monitors with even thicker PC cases. Everything else was painfully modern. Strange.

The only real pops of colour in the room itself were the white and green leafed plants in dark brown pots that matched the desks. It was sterile. And also ugly. He could almost imagine Yusuke’s criticisms. “It’s bland and uninspired, far too empty for a space so big.” Because it was pretty big. He had a good ten metres between him and the front desk where the Reception was actually taking place. This desk had all of the same set up as that one, just without the Shadow. The Shadow itself took on a feminine frame, wearing a knee length pencil skirt, blouse and a bun. Rectangular glasses sat on a nose created by the Shadow’s mask. The inky black creature with swirls of colour tapped away at the Keyboard, seemingly signing in the Paper People.

Paper People were sorted into different areas with a stamp on their heads. Some went back outside, some further into the building and others milled around the reception. Shadows in security uniforms kept watch. Akira did spy a place he could go in an attempt to interact with these Cognitive distortions of humanity, though.

Quickly and silently he made his way over to another desk with a pot plant next to it. He situated himself behind it to stay out of sight of a nearby Shadow and listened.

“I really hope I get the benefits I need. It’s so hard being a single parent.”

“If I don’t get this financial aid I’ll have to go back to my Grandma’s.”

“I need to go to college and this is the only way.”

They weren’t interacting with each other, simply saying what they wanted to get out of the Wayne organisations. People in desperate need of help. Closer examination of the Paper People showed them to have faint images of the American dollars on them. Akira sneered. He tried to get the attention of the one closest to him. Tapping it, whispering, raising his voice to his regular volume, nothing. They didn’t interact with anyone. Only the Shadows.

He decided to follow this flow of Shadows, managing to slip into the crowd unnoticed. Moving with them they entered a different set of doors, more scientific in nature then the doors he came in from. Inside he came to a shocking realisation. The hall he came in through was a maintenance hall.

This room was basically a massive server room, stretching the length of the bottom floor, with the Paper People being sorted into cabinets. Numbers. Simple numbers.

The crowd moved around him. These Paper People were being sucked up by these machines with seemingly no pattern. There were only a few Shadows in here. Nothing he couldn’t take. Probably. It was worth a shot. A quick scan showed they were pretty weak. He rolled his shoulders and checked his pockets. A dagger and a pistol sat with him. They manifested when he came into this world. The tools of a thief. His tools.

The dagger sat in his hand comfortably. It was light and durable. Nothing but a model in reality, but here? It was all a Dagger should be.

“Ready?” Akira smirked.

“Ready.” Satanael confirmed.

Akira locked onto the closest Shadow. A basic Security one. He closed the distance and slashed with his knife into the free space. A wind kicked up sending Paper people flying in a circle around them, creating something like an arena for Joker’s battle with this Shadow.

He watched the others in the room come close and burst, all four revealing their true forms.

Two Jack-O-Lanterns and two Pixies. He wouldn't even need Satanael. He was quick to draw his gun and level it at his opponents, one shot was all it took to knock them all down. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. He didn’t lower his arm, instead he held it in threat of the knocked enemies.

“This is so unfair!” A Pixie called. She started up at Joker, anger across her face.

“It’s the way of the world,” He shrugged, he had to give this Shadow the responses it wanted.

The Pixie huffed. “Whatever. So like, what do you even want with us anyway?”

After a moment of consideration, looking at the small figure’s crossed arms. Red hair and dragonfly wings both seemed to twitch at him, he responded.

“To clear my path as my own.”

“Wow, you’re really sure of yourself! I like that.” The Pixie smiled. “Wait! I remember now!” The Pixie flew from the ground taking to the air. “I’m not just a Shadow in this Palace, I’m Pixie! Take me as your Mask, oh pretty please?”

Joker’s smirk widened, “Of course, Pixie.”

Where there was once a Pixie there was a white mask with black detail, and the power from that mask came and flowed into Joker. He felt Pixie settle into his soul Her wings fluttering in the back of his mind. Satanael welcomed the new Persona and they both sat in silence for the time being.

At this moment the other three Shadows sprang back into action, which Joker silenced quickly with his gun once again, following up and taking out the remaining Pixie. A Jack-O-Lantern quickly tried to burn him with its Fire skill, Agi, but failed. He next used its power to buff the defence of itself.

Joker sneered and called on his Ultimate Persona, Satanael. The Demon Lord tore into reality, six dark wings curling protectively around his Trickster. At a small sacrifice of Joker’s own physical wellbeing he cast the Gun skill Snap, dealing more damage than his regular gun would do right now and taking out the buffed Jack Bro. He followed up by slicing the other one, it bursting into the Inky substance Shadow’s are made of.

In the aftermath of the short battle the Paper People floated to the ground and kept getting swept up in another mysterious gust and being brought into their systems. It was sickening.

Feeling that he got all he could out of this place he turned on his heel to leave. He pushed through the swath of Paper People and back into the reception and out beside them, quickly hiding behind the back most desk. He was sure that the same rooms would show themselves when he followed the other groups so he decided to try and find a way upstairs. There was another plain looking door not far which he decided was his best bet.

Quickly making his way over to it he tried the handle which moved easily, it opened easily and he went in, finding exactly what he was looking for, a staircase.

Peter had woken up stiff. He had apparently slept sitting up right, his phone sitting in his lap. Did he fall asleep on it? He checked and it was getting low on power. He should probably go somewhere to charge it. He wasn’t expecting any calls or anything but having a phone in an emergency situation was always good.

Honestly, him being in Gotham felt like an emergency situation. This wasn’t his earth. He could fantasise all he warned about getting to New York and going to that Cafe MJ worked at and seeing her, but he knew she wouldn’t be there. Not his MJ before the Spell, and not the one after that he only just started to be able to look at normally.

He stretched. His stomach ached from a lack of food, making him feel nauseous. He was cold. This room at the top of this building seemingly had no proper insulation in it. He cursed his luck.

He dragged himself out of his sleeping bag and the outfit change he had brought himself at an op shop yesterday. A decent jacket, AC/DC shirt in honour of Mr. Stark (He was pretty sure that was one of the bands he liked), loose black jeans and new socks. It felt nice to be in different clothes.

He left the building and went to a nearby Internet Cafe he’d found. They had free PCs and charging stations. He could also buy himself some breakfast. Nothing big or crazy, just enough to get buy.

He got there and sat down at a PC, ordering a coffee and a sandwich. It would have to be enough.

He started to find some places he could get parts for cheap. He wanted to remake his Web-Shooters soon. THey were going to be clunkier than the ones Mr. Stark had made for him but he could live with that. He just needed them to work. His costume would be easy. Another trip to the thrift to get him what he needed. It’s what he did last time.

This city got on fine with its current line up, but if you asked Peter it needed something that wasn’t Bat related. Even the Red Hood guy had a Bat symbol on his chest if accounts are to be believed. The most morally reprehensible of the Bats. Spider-Man would have to play a role in actually helping clean these streets up, Batman be damned.

He found some places and then started documenting them on his now charging phone, as well as what parts he needed. Using the drawing feature in his Notes App to start making a rudimentary diagram.

He was there for half an hour at that point when the building was rocked. Outside he saw the building across up in flames. He stood quickly from the desk and rushed out. He along with some other Gotham citizens started moving people away. He and another, older man rushed into what was once a storefront to start helping evacuate. He was really only in here because he saw the older guy doing it.

The culprit soon showed his face. Some crazy looking guy with long platinum blond hair cackled as he walked out of the flames. By that point FireFighters and police had pulled onto the scene. The man lit a molotov and threw it at a fire truck. Everyone around it ducked and ran, it smashed against the red surface of the vehicle and burned.

The man began laughing but was soon cut short by a flash of light. Peter watched a punch land on the man’s face. Yellow and black seemed to appear out of nowhere. The figure beat on the surprised man until he fell, cowering the Bat before him.

Signal stood over the man, frown etched on his exposed features. The police moved in quickly to detain the man as he stepped back. Signal seemed to observe the situation for a short moment before leaving quickly.

The people of Gotham moved on like it was just another day. To them it was. To Peter? It was a nightmare. He had all of his powers and couldn’t jump in to help in the way he wanted. He grit his teeth and made his way back to the cafe, even more resolved to once again become Spider-Man.

Chapter Text

Joker ran up the stairs, finding they only went up a few storeys. At the top the space opened up into something vaguely like an office space. There were a few rows of cubicles split into small squares. The grey walls matched the carpet-like dividers. Shadows marched up and down the isles in suits, large frames looming. He couldn't see into any from where he was but he saw strings extending from inside and into the high roof.

Pressing against the side of the first block of cubicles he eyed off the Shadow in his way. It wasn’t any stronger than the ones downstairs. That was a good thing at least.

He leapt onto its back and tore the mask off, watching the black ink sink into the ground and fly across the space. From the puddles two Jack-O-Lanterns formed. Seriously non-threatening. Having the aspect of surprise he quickly put both Shadows down with his gun.

“This is so lame-ho!” One of the Jacks cried.

Joker rolled his eyes, “You’re being a wimp.”

“You think so? Well, Mr. Tough Guy, what would you do in my situation?”

“I wouldn’t get in it in the first place.” Joker wiggled his gun for exaggeration.

“Really? I suppose we all would think that standing where you are right now.”

“Should have been faster.” Joker smirked at the pumpkin headed Shadow.

“You think? Wait - Ho! I remember now! I’m not a servant here! I’m from the sea of souls! Jack-O-Lantern! Take me as your mask!”

The Jack became energy and Joker absorbed it. Once again feeling the familiar sense of a new Persona settling in.

Deciding to not wait, Joker quickly dispatched the other one with his gun. It didn’t get a chance to get back up.

As everything settled down Joker peaked into a cubical. Inside there was a wooden puppet sat at a desk. Its hands danced above the keyboard without much coordination. I was painted to have a business casual suit on. He looked inside the next and it was the same story. He stepped towards it and waved a hand in front of where it’s face should be and there was no reaction.

He took a step back shaking his head. “I don’t think I like this Ruler.”

“Have you liked any of them in the past?” Sataneal mused.

“Futaba.” Joker smiled at the thought of his teammates back home. He had a feeling he would have quite the story to tell them when he got home.

“Ah yes. How could I forget?” Sataneal laughed.

Joker chuckled a bit and continued on. There were far more shadows here then he had the patience to deal with and standing around would get him nowhere.

He managed to duck past the Shadow in the next block of cubicles while it was looking in on the puppets. It made vague shouting sounds at them. He passed quietly on past the next one as well he thought, but was quickly shown that he didn’t.

He felt a fist impact his back and he stumbled forward before falling. He managed to turn and face the Shadow as it burst revealing itself to be a Silky. Her red dress took up most of the space in the aisle as she loomed over him. The air around him chilled instantly as she lifted her hands and ice descended over him. Frozen in place for a second before it shattered around him, damaging him in the process.

The cold lingered as he staggered to his feet. He could not remember this Shadow’s weakness for the life of him so he summoned his new Jack-O-Lantern and used its Agi skill. Fire erupted from the lantern it held and sought out the enemy. She fell to her knees and Joker breathed a short sigh of relief. Fire and Ice.

His dagger flipped in his hand as he rushed forward and got a few slashes in on the Silky before she rose above him and hit him. The sting of ice was harsh, dropping Joker to his knees and causing his Jack-O-Lantern to reel in his mind.

While he was down, the Silky slashed at him, cutting his face. He hissed in pain as he stood, staring the figure down. The mask over his face dissolved into blue cerulean fire and out of it the Jack came into reality. Its fire roared around Joker and slammed into the Silky causing her to fall. Joker unloaded a clip into the Shadow until it burst into black ooze.

Joker sighed. He had forgotten the pain that comes with this. Rage had consumed him. He used a bit too much stamina there but he was going to be okay to keep going.

He called Pixie to his side and used her Dia skill to heal himself. He breathed softly for a few seconds. The sound of keyboards being pressed and the faint clacks of wood against each other filled his ears. From elsewhere he could hear the sounds of shadows walking about but it was far.

A bell sounded, ringing out for five seconds. The lights in the office space went red. Nearby he heard shadows moving. He ducked down behind a cubical and watched strings coming out of a cubicle in the next row sever from the roof. Two Shadows entered the cubicle and carried out the limp body of the puppet.

Joker felt a tug at his heart. Whoever that puppet represented wasn’t here anymore for some reason, and that sucks.

He wondered if it was just a general thing for people who for whatever reason can't come into work. Like quitting g or being fired. Or worse.

He pushed the thought from his mind for now and avoided or fought some shadows. At his current level the Silky shadows were on level with him. He had become rusty in his time away.

He dealt with Pixies and Jack-O-Lanterns for a time until he felt significantly less rusty. All he needed for them was his gun, while he was here he had as much ammo as he needed.

Eventually he was strong enough to deal with the Silkys in his way. It really didn’t take long but he was annoyed at how far his skills have fallen. It’ll be fine.

Pushing through the rest of the cubicle was easy. Getting back into the swing of it all was thrilling. The hits he took inspired him to keep going. Making it to the other side he laid eyes on a tough looking Shadow.

He took it in as he quickly stretched and cracked his body. It was a big shadow. Not only beefy but tall. Dressed in a bullet proof vest and holding a shock stick. Thick sunglasses covered the eyes.

Joker’s hands itched as he adjusted his red gloves. A giddiness had seeped into him as he approached. He fidgeted with his dagger in hand as he stared down the Shadow.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to be here!” The Shadow called, “Leave the premises now or I will be forced to remove you!”

Joker shrugged as he continued walking towards it. The Shadow burst on its own, becoming a Bicorn. The purple horse with two green horns dragged one of its front hooves on the ground, huffing at him.

“No one will get in the way of Sir Ruthers! Glory to his name!” It called. The Bicorn Lunged at Joker, and he flipped out of its way. Satanael erupted out of Cerulean flames. The Demon Lord had his gun held in his hand. On Joker’s direction Satanael used Triple Down. The skill hit Bicron three times.

The Bicorn reeled up and before Joker could react Wind ripped at his jacket. Small cuts opened on his cheeks, a small trickle of blood ran down his face.

He shook his head and decided to pull Pixie to his side. He heard her wings flitting in his ears and felt the electricity on her wings. Zio burst out and connected with the Bicorn and it dropped down onto its forelegs.

“This is just a small hitch in Sir Ruther’s machine, you are nothing!” It cried.

“Shut up.” Joker and Pixie said at the same time as lightning cracked down onto the Shadow.

Bicorn growled, rising back up to it’s hooves and charged Joker, he tried to side step it but the Bicron adjusted and rammed him against the wall of a cubicle. It growled at him but Joker still had his dagger in his hands. He brought it down into the beast’s neck and felt it buck, moving away allowing Joker to carve further down its neck.

It let out one final cry as it charged in yet again, but Joker successfully avoided it that time. One final slash into its side caused it to explode back into the Metaverse. Joker shook off some that landed on him and assessed. He was hurt and didn’t really have a lot of stamina left. He figured he should just continue and find a safe room and use its wrapping capabilities to get out of the Palace for the day. He’d been here for a while just dealing with Shadows.

At the end of the cubicle there was what seemed like an unused break room. A tea and coffee station sat pristine and all of the couches and chairs were unwrinkled. It was eerie. There was a sign pointing towards the stairs so he quickly followed it. Ascending a few more flights he came to the end of this stairwell. He came out into a hallway similar to the first one he entered and the first door on the left was a Safe Room.

He collapsed onto a chair and rested for a short time. He dumped his jacket on a table and undid his vest. A large bruise was present on his torso. Leaving the Metaverse with injuries makes them unhealable by his Persona’s skills and he knew he was going to have to. He rubbed his cheeks with the white fabric square from the jacket’s breast pocket, wetting it with his saliva. He used what reflective surfaces he could find to make sure he got the blood off his face.

He redressed in his jacket and replaced the fabric square, making sure to redo up his vest. He felt sluggish and foresaw a quiet night at home. It was probably getting close to sunset. He only came in after lunch.

He found the gap in cognition and slipped through back to where he came in from. Leaning against the wall as he returned to reality.

Tim drank a black tea. Alfred had came all the way down into the Bat cave to give it to him. He sat with Bruce and Dick tinkering with some of their equipment. Bruce was refining his gauntlets and Dick was sharpening his throwables. Tim himself was messing with wiring in one of Jason’s old Red Hood helmets, seeing if he could create something a bit more high tech to use.

“Met a weird guy last night,” Dick said, investigating his work.

“It’s Gotham,” Tim cocked an eyebrow at him, “Everyone’s weird.”

“Yeah but he was notably weird,” Dick scrunched his face, Bruce hummed in acknowledgment, “It’s not everyday you find a random young guy sitting up on a building. He seemed pretty familiar as well, so upon reflection I realised that it’s the guy who decked you a few nights ago, Bruce.”

A smirk had formed on Dick’s face as he watched Bruce from the side of his eye. Bruce’s jaw set back a bit as he continued to work.

“Really? Did you actually see him or are you messing with us.” Tim asked.

“I did! He was up some random building near the Library. I was worried he was not in the greatest mental state but it seemed like he was just hanging out? I’m not sure but when I swung back that way later he was gone and there weren't any reports of anything. Pretty sure he’s homeless.”

“What makes you say that?” Bruce asked, setting his gauntlet down.

Dick thought for a second, “He was dirty. Dusty, is probably more the right word. I suspect he’s been living in one of the abandoned buildings around there.”

“We were in the fashion district. It’s not that far I suppose.” Bruce gently pressed the bruise around his eye. It had faded a considerable amount already.

“He seemed pretty chill, came back off the ledge when I asked and just chatted. Said he liked the quiet of the rooftops. Offered to escort him to one of the shelters nearby and he said he had a place but I doubt that.”

“What did he look like?” Bruce asked as he got back to work.

“Brown curly hair, brown eyes. Nothing special for a white kid.”

Two puzzle pieces lined up in Tim’s head. “Did you catch his name?”

“No,” Dick frowned, “Got called to help B before I could ask.”

Just his luck. “He kind of sounds like a guy who’s been showing up at the library and driving Babs crazy.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for him,” Dick started sharpening his tools again and Tim could sense the conversation was over. He was almost out of tea.

Peter was crouched over his new backpack, double checking to make sure he had gotten everything he decided to get that day. The sun was going down for the day and the sky grew darker. He wasn’t that worried. If he wasn’t back in time he was just gonna climb a wall and make his way that way.

He had gone to a few places, making sure not to get anything much from each. He wanted some kind of obfuscation. Anyone who knew much about engineering who saw a kid buying all those parts and then saw someone swinging about might be able to put two and two together.

He shouldered the pack and started to walk back. His senses had been on edge the whole time he was here. It was hard to differentiate between real danger and the background levels of it all around the city. A small uptick was negligible as he walked.

Apparently it had been trying to warn him about the guy coming up on the corner. They ran into each other. Peter stayed on his feet but the other guy fell on his ass.

The guy mumbled something in Japanese and tried to stand up, but flinched, hand going to his stomach.

“Need a hand?” Peter offered, reaching down to him.

The guy grabbed his hand and Peter pulled him up. The guy groaned a bit and cradled his sides.

“Thank you,” He bowed his head at him. The guy had black messy hair and thick black glasses. A grey turtleneck poked out from a black coat pulled tightly around him. Tight black pants were paired with polished black shoes. A brown book bag was slung over his left shoulder.

“Not a problem,” Peter smiled, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” He sighed, “Nothing you’re responsible for, but it certainly didn’t help.” He set his shoulders back and scrunched his face. Peter could see some fresh cut marks on his face.

“Sorry, fresh injuries are never fun.” Peter frowned.

The guy shook his head, “You’re telling me. A good meal in me and I’ll be fine.”

“So long as I didn’t hurt you, we’re all good.”

“Of course.”

They stood in silence for a second and both started walking and quickly realised they were going the same direction. They both stared at each other for a second and started laughing.

“What’s your name?” The guy asked.

“I’m Peter, you?” He smiled.

“Akira,” He returned the gesture, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Peter shook his head and laughed, “I could say the same about you. I’m from New York but had to leave.”

Akira nodded, “I left Japan only recently, won’t be going back for a while either.”

“So we’re both new to town. The worst one I could have picked.” Peter sighed.

Akira snorted then flinched, “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“Not only are we in Gotham, we just have to be in New Jersey. A fate worse than death for most New Yorkers.” Peter spat.

Akira smirked at him, “Yeah I wouldn’t have picked it in most other circumstances.”

Peter felt his sense spike significantly, flicking to the alley. Akira kept walking. He turned around to look at Peter and gave him a confused look. Peter went to tell him to come back but Akira’s eyes widened and turned to look at the alley. A man rushed out and hooked Akira in a grip around his shoulders and placed a gun against his temple.

Peter sucked in a breath. Akira looked more inconvenienced than scared though. His senses honed in and he realised that the gun wasn’t loaded. He could hear it.

“Give me all your cash or this one gets it,” He pressed the weapon further into Akira’s temple, causing him to scrunch his face.

“I don’t carry cash,” Peter said, holding his wallet up. That isn't actually true, he used all of it buying his parts.

The man pushed Akira forward as he got closer, “Let me see it.”

Peter obliged and opened it. The only thing in it were his cards and invalid memberships.

“And what about you?” He asked Akira who rolled his eyes.

“Front left pocket, asshole.”

He let go of Akira’s shoulder and found his way to the pocket somewhat uncomfortably for all involved. He pulled it out and opened it with one hand. A 10 dollar note was all that was in it. With only an aggravated grumble he threw the wallet to the floor and opened Akira’s bag. Finding naught but the gun Akira apparently had.

The man dropped the gun from Akira’s temple, said something like “Kids these days” as he walked off, trudging his feet. Akira bent down and scooped his wallet back up.

“You own a gun?” Peter asked. He didn’t judge him, but he doubted it was legally obtained.

“I don’t,” He smirked, rising up and taking the weapon from his bag. Peter’s sense perked at how it sounded.

Akira pulled the clip out and handed it to Peter. “It’s a deconstructable model. I know the owner of a shop that sells them back in Japan and he hooked me up with someone here who could help me get one. I only have it because it looks real enough to fool most people.”

Peter hummed looking at it. No wonder his senses hadn’t warned him of anything. Actually feeling it in his hands he could tell it was 3D printed.

“We should hurry,” Akira said, “Would you like to come over for dinner? I know we just met but a little bit of trauma bonding usually sort that out.” He smiled. It was a genuine offer. A real meal. He could maybe even eat a snack afterwards.

“Are you sure? I could actually be a criminal. I could rob you while we’re at your place.” Peter was worried that this guy had 0 sense of Stranger Danger.

Akira let out a sigh but a smile was still on his face, “If you wanted to I feel like you already would have. You seem like a good guy and it’s good to have friends in the city.” He turned to keep walking. The offer was laid out. Akira was looking at Peter from over his shoulder. For some reason it felt like he had more then Akira’s eyes on him. But he trusted him. He wouldn’t have shown Peter the gun was fake if he didn’t have his own plans. His senses also seemed to settle while he was around. Like just by being with him there was less danger.

“Sure. Why not.” He smiled. Akira beamed and turned to face the direction he was walking. They didn’t talk much on their way to Akira’s apartment, but neither of them minded.

Akira set his bag down on the console table as he came in and took off his shoes. He made straight for the kitchen. He had made curry the previous night and was sure he had enough left over for both of them.

“Look at our social little butterfly here,” Pixie laughed, “You’re quite confident in him not killing you in your own home.”

“It’s a risk you take,” Akira shrugged mentally, searching for the rice cooker he purchased. He used it last night where could it have gone?

“I sense a power in him,” Satanael hummed, “It might be wise to have him as a friend.”

Akira turned around and saw the rice cooker on the table and Peter standing there awkwardly. He sighed to himself.

“Make yourself at home,” He smiled, “Do you want some water?”

“I would like that,” Peter nodded. He set his bag down next to the entrance and walked over to the couch. He sat down and started to look around. “Where’s your bathroom?”

Akira sighed, setting a glass on the coffee table, “In the hall. It's a communal space. Could be worse, there could only be one toilet and shower for the whole floor.”

Peter cringed.

Akira walked to the table and picked up the rice cooker, mumbling “Naze” as he carried it over to plug it in.

“I’m here thanks to a… Benefactor,” Akira sighed, starting to measure out his proportions, “He didn’t give me much of a choice as to where I ended up. Just a place in America.”

“That’s way nicer than how I got here,” Peter sighed.

“Want to talk about it?” Akira asked as he started washing the rice.

Peter furrowed his brows, but didn’t seem outwardly offended.

“Maybe another time,” He sighed, “I don’t know if now’s the time.”

“That’s okay,” Akira smiled over his shoulder, “I should have asked earlier, is there anything you can’t eat?”

“Uh, vinegar and peppermint I’m not a fan of, but I can still eat it if I have to.”

“I don’t unusually use those things in a way that shows up a lot, this should be fine.”

“Cool,” Peter nodded. He found the TV remote and flicked it on. As Akira worked on dinner he listened to the news. Apparently the Signal hero was on scene at an arson attack today.

“I was there for that,” Peter said, “I was one of the people who went into the building.”

“Because that’s such a good idea,” Akira rolled his eyes. He would have done the same.

“People were still inside! It was the right thing to do.” Peter crossed his arms defensively.

“You did the right thing, I’m just saying that rushing in head first was maybe not the best idea for your own safety.”

“I can hold my own, thank you.”

“I’m sure you can,” Akira set the rice to cook and went to start warming the curry, “I’m just channelling the people from my life who got mad at me for the same reason.”

“That’s the worst,” Peter sighed, “I had a teacher of mine get mad at me for trying to fix an issue I caused because he could do it better.”

“Right?” Akira flicked the stovetop on and made sure the pot was sitting all good then went to sit with Peter. “I have had plenty of that in my life.”

“Well,” Peter looked at Akira, a sweet smile on his face, “Gotham’s a new chapter, and at the moment we’ve got each other. Might as well make the most of it while we’re here.” He lightly punched Akira’s arm in a way that painfully reminded him of Ryuji. That connection hugging his heart tight.

“I suppose we do,” He smiled, a bittersweet taste in his mouth, “Let’s watch out for each other, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Peter smiled, “Watch out Gotham, you’ve got two new guys on the streets!” He pumped his arm in the air. And Akira felt a spark he hadn’t in a while.

The Chariot link, the one he shared with Ryuji, started to burn brighter. Closer. The distance was closed almost instantly. Peter, this world’s Chariot. He felt a new power seed itself in his soul, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was yet.

Peter tired his head at him. “Is everything all right? You’re staring off kind of weirdly.”

“Oh, sorry,” Akira smiled and shook his head a bit, “You remind me of someone from back home.”

“Is that a good thing?” He lifted his eyebrow.

“Absolutely.”

Chapter Text

Peter had stayed the night. He slept on the couch.

By the time the two of them had decided to call it a night it was too late for Akira to be comfortable letting him go out.

Akira had drifted off peacefully. And as he began to dream he heard a familiar voice, singing a melody he found all too familiar.

His eyes opened to the familiar blue walls of the Velvet Room. The song that echoed from its depths reverberated in his soul as he sat up. He noticed he was in his prisoner garb but the ball and chain that usually accompanied it was gone. He stood in his familiar cell and walked to the door. He grabbed the bars and lent as far forward as he could without taking his feet off the ground. The round room had cells on every side and a large wooden desk. Behind the desk was the entrance to a hall area. Two figures were in the centre.

Igor smiled at him. The balding man extended a hand towards him. “Welcome back to the Velvet Room, Trickster, you’ve been busy.”

Akira shrugged, “Decided to get started.”

“Indeed,” Igor chuckled, “Not only have you found your first target, you’ve established your first connection. I should praise you for your drive.”

“You’re doing great, Trickster.” Lavenza, the short white haired attendant smiled. Her large book tucked under her arm. Akira nodded at her.

“Gotham has a new problem seeping into it,” Igor leant back in his chair, “And you have the key to fixing it and more. We offer you our aid once again.”

Akira smiled. He had some support at least. Lavenza and him checked what he could fuse with what he had and Akira had to be honest that having an Incubus on him at the moment was the last thing he wanted. Goodbyes were passed in the first of many visits to the Velvet Room he would have in Gotham.

Akira was getting ready for work, brewing himself and Peter coffee. He had work at 10:30, it was 9:30. It takes him about 15 minutes to walk to the shop and he wanted to get there a bit early…

“Smells good,” Peter mumbled. He was looking and sounding about how Akira felt.

“Sleep alright?”

“Best I’ve gotten while in Gotham,” He smiled.

“Oh? Why’s that?” Akira poured milk into his cup.

“Mmm not living in a great place at the moment.” Peter lying his top half on the table. He looked like he could fall asleep again.

Akira’s gut told him that was only half true, “You don’t have an actual place to live, do you?”

“Wh-what? No…” Peter shot up, but he looked guilty.

“You can stay here if you’d like,” Akira smiled, “I’ve got a spare key I can give you. Doesn’t have to be permanent and I’m out of the place a lot anyway.”

“Are you being serious?” Peter’s eyes widened, “I have business I’ll have to start attending to late at night, I don’t wanna disturbed you…”

“That’s fine,” Akira shrugged, “I’m a pretty heavy sleeper and if you’re coming in and out I’ll only be worried, not unrested.” Akira felt Peter’s eyes on him as he grabbed his toast. “I know it’s weird, I just met you and all, but I want you to be safe.”

Peter seemed lost for words. Akira ignored the slight tremble in his hands as he slid a mug towards him.

“I'm sorry,” Peter started, hesitated for a second, then continued, “I just wasn’t expecting such a nice offer… I’ll take you up on it, if you don’t mind me doing some engineering work while you’re out.”

Akira smiled, “That sounds fine, we can go shopping for some you stuff tomorrow if you’d like. I’m not exactly short on funds.”

Peter nodded, but by this point he was looking down and tracing the rim of the mug clutched between his hands with his thumb. Akira smiled and sat down himself, pulling his phone out and mindlessly scrolling on twitter.

Akira noticed Peter get up once he finished his coffee and stand awkwardly at the sink after rinsing the mug for a few seconds.

“I have some stuff to grab from where I was staying, where’s the other key?”

Akira pointed to the side table at the door and Peter nodded. He walked over and pulled his shoes on. Peter was out fast. Akira didn’t mind.

Peter was super confused. Why did Akira offer to take him in, did he seriously look that homeless? Or was Akira just really good at picking up vibes? He was happy that he had an actual place to live, even if it was a small studio apartment with a random dude he barely knew.

He also felt a little embarrassed, he shut down in front of Akira trying not to cry. What a loser. He would have to go back to getting changed in the alleys. Lame.

He was only a few blocks away from where he stashed everything. He ducked into the alley and crawled up the wall. It was a short free run to the building and in through the top floor window. His makeshift abode was waiting for him which he quickly packed up. He really didn’t have much, huh.

Akira knew the phrase “Time to lean, time to clean” by now. It seemed to be one of Elanor’s favourite things to say if she caught Akira even slightly idle. He was doing a half assed job of wiping down some of the tables while trying not to go too hard on his bruised stomach. His face was presentable at least, The cuts were almost invisible and he didn’t feel a need to bandage them.

It was a slow day. He got here after the morning rush and stayed on until the after school one. He knew he tagged off for Fin, but he wondered if there was a morning shift person he hadn’t met.

He heard the bell above the door ring and heard Elanor welcome someone. Akira let out a silent sigh as he made his way to the service counter. The man standing there was well built and tall. His black hair was perfectly messed up, tan skin glowing in the mood lighting of the cafe, a blue toned jacket slung on over everything with black jeans and blue shoes. He had a model smile which he shone brightly at Elanor. Next to him wheeled in Barbara from the library, orange hair loose around her shoulders and a pair of glasses

“Good morning, what can I get you two today?” Elanor smiled at them.
Akira started wiping the coffee machine down. Elanor took his order and gave the note to him to make the drinks as she and Dick chatted.

“What are you up to today?” She asked the two as she wiped down the counter.

“The usual,” The man shrugged, “I’m going to give Barbs a hand and deliver coffee, then treat her to some lunch later. This won’t be the last you see of me today.”

“That’s wonderful,” Elanor smiled, “You work so hard, Barbera, it’s good to see you out and about.”

A light, but forced, laugh comes from Barbera as she smiled, “You know how Dick is. He manages to get Tim away from his desk for long periods of time.”

Oh would you look at that, Akira though glancing at the man quickly, it is Tim’s friend Dick. Just far more put together than the last time he was here.

Akira was handed a paper with the two’s drink orders and Elanor went back to the kitchen. He listened to the pop music playing over the speakers as he worked. Dick had slid his glasses up and was guiding Barbera to a table. They both had to be pushing their thirties and up, but were looking good for it, he supposed.

He had to pay closer attention to his work, due to him not being familiar with the machines yet, and could hear that they were talking but not what they were talking about. For an eavesdropper like him it was frustrating.

After a few minutes both drinks were done. A one sugar plain latte and a caramel latte. The caramel was for Dick and the plain for Barbera. He made his way over to their table and listened in as he approached.

“It’s just worrying that he’s getting like this again,” Dick sighed, “He was doing so well.”

“Backslides happen,” Barbera shrugged, “But when it’s him, it all gets troublesome. We’re gonna have to start stepping in when he doesn’t like us to.”

“I hope he doesn’t hold it against us.”

“If he can, he will.”

There was a small break in conversation which is when Akira closed the distance and presented the drinks.

“Your drinks,” He smiled, “Please enjoy and if I can get you anything else just let me know.”

Barbera smirked at Dick and raised her drink to her lips, “Let’s see if you and Tim are right about this guy’s skill.”

“Do you have to say that right in front of him?’ Dick grumbled and sipped from his own drink, and quickly burnt his tongue.

Barbera chuckled, “I think it’s a compliment, you guys were saying good things behind his back.”

Akira put on a flustered act, waving a hand in front of him and letting out a small, struggled laugh, “I’m really not that good.” But inside he was brimming with pride.

Barbera raised a shoulder to him and, after blowing a bit on it first, took a sip. Her eyes widened a bit and a smile crept onto her face. “Oh wow this is actually really nice.”

Dick’s face lit up, “I told you!”

Akira placed a hand on the back of his neck and looked away, forcing an awkward smile onto his face. “Thanks, I’m glad you like it.” He spun on his heel and let a full smile grow on his face as he walked back to the front counter.

As he settled back into work, forcing his own pride and Satanael’s down. He put on his focused face but tuned in to the two’s conversation.

“We can not let Bruce come here,” Dick said.

“Why?” Barbera asked, an incredulous note in her voice.

“Look at that kid,” Akira had a feeling he was being gestured at but ignored looking, “He fits all the boxes. Black hair. A mysterious and likely tragic past to end up in Gotham. And he’s good at making coffee. Not to slide Alfred’s or anything, his is good! But this is just something different.”

“Bruce isn’t going to scoop a guy up just for making good coffee, the rest of you are problems.”

“We haven’t seen if this guy’s a problem or not yet! If he is, we protect him from getting wrapped up in Bruce’s bullshit.”

Akira resisted the urge to ask, if they were talking like this they probably thought he wasn’t listening. He had his back fully to them and was cleaning the machine and humming along to the speakers. He got pretty good at doing all of that a while ago. To them he was off in his own world.

“He could just be a normal person with normal person issues,” Barbera huffed, “You and Jason both are so worried about Bruce’s habit of picking people off the street you neglect to think of all those he passed over or let do their own thing.”

“I guess,” Dick sighed, “Still, the less people the better.”

“For sure.”

The conversation stopped there and they started talking about stuff to do with the library that didn’t really interest Akira. Soon enough their meals were brought out and after they ate Dick paid and they left. A decent tip was left which Akira didn’t mind, now that there was a second person he had to shop for.

Once Peter had gotten back to the apartment he started work on his web shooters. They were gonna be bulkier than he liked for the time being. He didn’t have access to the Stark Labs anymore, so starting from scratch would have to be good enough for now. He didn’t have some of the chemicals he would need, he would have to get them himself at some point. Maybe break in somewhere to grab it. Or figure out a formula for his webs with commercial stuff. That didn’t sound very appealing.

He was working on the main body of the device. The cuffs for his wrists and the pressure point that fit on his palms. He had spied a note left on the table letting him know whatever was there was okay to eat for lunch and Akira’s phone number. He had turned it over and was jotting down his ideas and equations. After a few hours of work he had managed to get the basic shape right. The metal cuffs were comfortable enough and provided a good blank sheet to start building off of. He was quite proud of his work.

It would slip in and hold in place in his suit, which he had to make a plan for as well. No one ever appreciates how much work goes into all of this set up…

Peter plugged Akira’s number into his phone and sent him a text while it was on his mind…

Peter: Hey Akira, It’s Peter. Just making sure the number you gave me is the right one.

He wasn’t expecting a reply quickly but he got one.

Akira: All good. You got it right.

Peter: Aren’t you at work?

Akira: Slow day.

Peter: Of course.

Peter shook his head and put his phone down. He was thinking more about a more commercial option for his web fluid when the next text came in.

Akira: Going shopping after work. Need anything?

Peter would have to get back to that. He needed to theory craft. It was worth a shot, making something more friendly to his current position. In school he was able to make it between periods or after class most days due to the chemicals being easy to get. With Stark Labs he could grab whatever he needed. Sure, he could probably break into a school and get everything he needed, but he really didn’t want to get in trouble if he got caught.

He would have to sort it out sooner rather than later if he was going to get out anytime soon. Time to research.

By the time Akira got home with the shopping Peter and stashed away his project in his bag. He had piled his stuff against the couch, the two bags, blanket and pillow he had picked up. Akira dumped a shopping bag next to him which had the products he was after.

“I finished off the curry for lunch,” Peter said as he made sure everything was there, “Also thanks for grabbing all of this.”

“Not a problem,” Akira shrugged. There was a quiet understanding between the two of “don’t ask, don’t tell”. Peter didn’t mind. He supposed Akira had his own stuff to worry about.

“After we go get you a bed frame and stuff,” Akira said, “I’ve got some business to attend to. Probably won’t be home until late. I’ll be making enough tonight so that there’s some there we can eat tomorrow night.”

“All good.” Peter also didn’t mind having the apartment to himself. It meant he could work on his Spider-Gadgets. He just had to be ready to play it off if Akira saw them.

Soon the apartment smelt of grilled chicken as the news played. Peter was refining his formulas and designs quietly on his phone while Akira chopped teh now grilled meat. He added this meat into a large pot that already had a mix of tomato paste, cream, butter and some spices. After mixing he left the pot on the stove to heat up and sat on the opposite side of the couch from Peter.

There was no pressure from Akira to do anything. Peter realised. He was more than happy to cook, clean, work and pay for everything. Not even pressure to have conversations with him. Peter wondered if he liked doing all of it or if he was just used to doing all of it.

Akira started flipping through the TV channels and eventually settled on a documentary about American Superheros over the last 15 or so years. Peter decided it would be a good idea to pay attention and learn.

They stayed like this for a while, watching TV and Akira periodically checking on the butter chicken. He had apologies for not being able to marinate the chicken but Peter didn’t mind. May never did.

Eventually Akira turned the heat up on the pot and put the rice on. Soon enough dinner was served. It was rather nice, the chicken was tender and the prices were perfectly balanced.

After he was done Akira collected Peter's plate and they caught up on each other's day. Peter mentioned grabbing his stuff from his hide away and starting a new, nebulously phrased, engineering project. Akira expressed an interest in it but didn't push any further on it, just saying he hoped it went well and that he could take a look when he was done. Peter had no intention of showing it to him, but he appreciated the thought. Akira just said it was quiet at the cafe and that he walked past a group of people in clown masks standing in silent vigil at the steps of a building.

The two moved off to do their own things. Akira cleaned the kitchen then spent some time on his phone. Peter continued flicking through TV channels which Akira half paid attention to. Occasionally one or the other would comment on something happening on it but otherwise we're silent. At the same time Peter was typing up his plans and roughly sketching his ideas in his Notes App. Web fluid, web shooter schematics and measurements, new costume design. Anything that crossed his mind.

When the two turned in for the night it was not long before midnight. It was a quiet night in Gotham. A calm that always preceded a storm.

Chapter Text

Akira had gotten Peter put of bed and out of the apartment by 9:30 to go shopping. They decided to hit up the thrift shops, not only because Peter wanted some variety in his outfits, but also because any bed frame and mattress they found would be cheep.

While Peter was looking through clothing Akira had wandered off to the furniture section. He was looking for anything that stood out on the racks. He grabbed a few pairs of pants and some shirts and an extra jacket. He figured that would be enough.

He went looking for his roommate after finalising his picks. The shop was deceptively big, with more racks and shelves then he was expecting. The furniture section was towards the back of the store and he found Akira, one hand on his chin the other crossed over his body, looking at the bed frames.

“Why are there like, ten of them?” Peter asked as he closed the distance.

“I don’t think the answer is pleasant,” Akira shrugged, “Besides, it gives you options. I had been hoping there would have been two and one was significantly worse than the other.”

Peter nodded, “Now I have to make a decision,” Which he wasn’t too thrilled about. Wood or metal, how high from the ground? Headboard or no? The apartment only had room for a twin bed so that at least narrowed it down. He figured having space under the bed to store stuff would be a good idea.

After a few minutes he decided on a bed that was a foot and a bit off the ground and had a metal frame. Akira had found the least sketch looking mattress that fit. Peter appreciated that. It was still wrapped in the plastic it came in.

They decided they would have to make two trips, one for the frame, one from the mattress. As Akira went to discuss buying them at the same time and coming back for one, Peter went looking for fabrics he could use. He had decided a black and red colour scheme would be fitting for Gotham. Spandex was, of course, ideal. But he would settle with whatever.

He had found a black, thick, stretchy fabric for his base and was looking for a suitable red. Akira snuck up behind him and tapped Peter on his shoulder. His senses had notified him of Akira's approach, just far later then they usually would. He acted more surprised than he was for Akira's sake. A smile tugged at the black haired one's face.

“Are you into sewing?”

“Uh, a little,” Peter's voice cracked, “Really just this one thing.” He had been hoping Akira wouldn't notice him buying this.

He shrugged, “Fair enough, do you want a machine?”

Peter blinked a couple times and stuttered out a yes. Akira nodded and disappeared behind the aisle before swiftly returning with one.

“Don’t worry about the price, I’ve got it.” Akira smiled. Peter returned the gesture.

Akira knew both he and Peter had been being intentionally vague with each other about a lot of things. It was clear to him that Peter had just as much to hide as he did. He didn't mind. It would all come out as needed.

Peter ended up picking two different red fabrics and a black bobbin thread and followed Akira up to the counter. The price certainly hurt the bank, but there was still enough. Akira also had a feeling his next Metaverse venture would be at least somewhat decent, money wise.

Akira heald both the sewing machine and had the front of the bed frame over his shoulder. The legs were in front of him. Peter held the bag of his clothes and fabric with the back end of the frame supported on his shoulder. Akira could feel that Peter was taking more of the weight theN be was seemed relatively unbothered.

They trudged the ten minutes back to the apartment building. It had been a shorter walk to the shop. Akira could feel that he was more out of shape then he thought. He puffed lightly as they approached the steps of the building. He took the first step, then the second, and slipped on the edge of the third, barely catching himself before he hurt himself.

Peter had lurched forward when Akira fell but didn't meet him as he refound his footing. Akira let himself breathe for a second.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, readjusting the frame on his shoulder. Akira felt some more of the weight being taken by him.

Akira nodded, “Just misjudged, I should be okay now.”

Peter looked doubtful but let Akira take the lead into the building. They rested for a second in the foyer before pushing on. Half way up the first flight Akira slipped on the stairs again. He fell harder this time, managing to let go of the bed frame.

Peter rested the frame against the wall to check on Akira. “Are you sure you're alright?”

Akira chuckled lightly, “I'm okay, seriously. I just need to get back into working out.” He adjusted his position on the stairs to face Peter and reached a hand towards him. Peter helped him stand up with aid from the wall. Akira flashed a large smile at him.

Peter's mood shifted seeing this, “We then, Mr. “I can Handel it”, wanna swap places? I can take the front.”

Akira nodded, “Yes please.” He hoped the relief in voice wasn't obvious.

Peter laughed himself and went to move past Akira when the frame, which had been slowly sliding, finally gave out and slid right back down to the foyer. Neither of them could hold back their laughter. As they both came to the end of their fits, Akira felt their connection deepen.

Chariot Rank 2!
Now Able to summon the Echo of Ryuji in the Metaverse. As well as Baton Pass with it in combat.

Akira blinked at the sudden knowledge. Echo? He'll have to see what that's about this afternoon.

Akira and Leter made thir way down the stairs. Peter took the front, and Akira could feel how little weight was left of him to take this time. Peter smiled over his shoulder at Akira and they got up to the apartment.

They placed the frame at the opposite side of the room of Akira's. The both dumped their bags. Akira took a moment to catch his breath before they left to get the mattress. Light, observation chatter passed between them. Like the woman they saw on the other side of the road with two cigarettes in hand. Or the man walking a strange looking begal, which had an under bite and a mostly missing ear.

Peter took up the front of the mattress with Akira at the back. They had to take a couple break on the walk back due to how awkward holding it was. Eventually they got back and spent what was left of the morning watching TV together. Light and impersonal conversation passed between the two. Neither were eager to reveal much about themselves.

After lunch Akira left. He took his route to Wyane building and reflected. Peter was a genuinely good guy, he had decided. Kind and selfless. He was also really strong, not that he looked it. Akira and Peter had similar builds. Male gymnast types. Akira had worked pretty hard to get there over the last year. He had loved how it felt to move in the metaverse so he had taken it up as a hobby. Peter, however, had far more strength behind him then Akira did.

He had noticed it when they met. He was nearly pulled clean off his feet standing up. Not even to me turn how solid he was when Akira bumped into him in the first place. Then of course with the bed frame and mattress today he was sure of it. He didn’t want to call the strength unnatural, but that's what it was. Akira could tell he was holding back.

He was missing some pieces to Peter's whole deal, but if he asked a question Peter would ask as well. Akira wasn't ready to tell anyone in this world the deal with his powers. No matter how many powerful heroes and villains existed, he was a new kind of vigilante. And it would take time for that to settle in.

He took in the sight of Wayne Enterprises once again. It was a tall building. Not one of the tallest in the area, but remarkable on its own. A large “W” lit up the top of the building. Everyone who passed was walking fast, avoiding other people’s eyes. Akira had noticed that no one lingers outside for long.

He settled behind a small bit of cover in an alley. After checking his phone for a short time, he re-entered James Ruthers’ Palace.

Two… five… two… five… two… five… two… five…

The building was shorter here than it was in the real world, however the added fort walls and exterior towers made up for it. He watched the flow of people for a short time before feeling his way back to the nearby gap in cognition, using it to navigate to the safe room he found before he left last time.

Akira quickly left, met with the white halls and the faint pulse of electricity. It was quiet. Except for the muffled sound of the gates.

He felt a pull at his heart, the Chariot calling to him. He focused on it. On reflex he brought his right hand up and splayed it open. In a small blue flash the tarot card formed in his hand. Akira gripped it in between his index and thumb and threw it into the ground beside him. Blue flame grew from it, drawing up beside him. From it’s glow, Skull was standing in front of him. Akira lurched forward, reaching out, before meeting his eyes and stopping.

Metal mask, red tie, yellow gloves, biker outfit. In all ways this was Skull. But his warm brown eyes carried none of the light they usually did. He had a neutral expression. This was not Ryuji. The knowledge gained from his confidant bond told him all he needed to know about him. A silent follower that would fight with him, and act in them as the real Skull. Equipped with Captain Kidd as his Persona.

Akira was hopeful for a moment that Ryuji would be here with him, even if just in the Metaverse. He pulled away, grey eyes lingering on the contours of the skeletal mask he got his code-name from. He bit down on his emotions and turned. He heard Echo Skull’s footsteps behind him, the slight limp causing a small well he quickly squashed.

He pushed on, the Echo following dutifully behind. There was a bend coming up in the hallway. Akira ducked behind the corner quickly and looked around it. There was a single Shadow guarding a door. If it was there, Akira wanted to be there.

He adjusted his glove and checked on the Echo. He was crouched behind him quietly. Akira fought off his frown and shook off his negative feelings. There were more important matters at hand.

He dashed forward and leaped onto the Shadow, grabbing onto the mask and ripping it from the body. He went down with the Metaverse goo the Shadow was made from and rolled back towards the corner. Skull’s Echo fell in line with him. Akira watched the Silky form and stared down at him and his new ally.

Akira was the first to act. His Jack-O-Lantern flashed into space, Akira’s mask burning off. The fire of the Jack launched towards the Silky and knocked her down. Akira raised his hand on instinct. It was the way he had communicated to his team he was going to negotiate with a Shadow. He saw the Echo react, pulling out a sawed off shotgun and taking a relaxed stance. Holding it at the Silky.

Akira had his own pistol trained on the green skinned Shadow. The red dress puffed out around her perfectly. She took the time to smooth it, even under such threat.

“Such a shame to get your dress dirty, it’s a gorgeous colour.” Akira tilted his head sympathetically.

“Isn’t it? Glad to hear you at least feel bad about that. Some sense in you, boy.” The Silky frowned.

“Such a waste for a place like this.”

“Finally someone sees that! Far too good for this minimalist dump. Hey! Wait! I remember something! I’m not some guard, I’m from the Sea of Souls! I’m Silky! Let me become your mask!”

Joker bowed at her. A smile crossed the eyes-ever-closed face as she burst into the form of his mask and settled over his face. Becoming one with his mind. He felt her settling in with his other Personas.

He watched the Echo put away his weapons and turn to face him. Yeah no it was freaky.

He checked the door the Shadow had been guarding, finding it unlocked. He pushed through and found… A regular looking office. Sure the people working were all still puppets, red strings holding them. But they moved around the space. Some were talking together, others at the break station. A normal office. There was some woking but in far less of a fervour compared to downstairs.

Akira’s eyes lingered on the red strings. Had the ones downstairs been the same colour? He hadn’t really looked.

The chatter amounted pretty much to “business business, forward facing job, charity ball”. Akira had a feeling this wasn’t James’ overview.

He turned and left, going back down to the large office. Sneaking past a few Shadows he got close to the puppets and saw blue strings tied to them. That was enough of a difference to note down.

Akira didn’t want to stick around for too long so he made his way back to the hall and kept going past the door. After another bend he was met with more stairs. So many stairs.

He started to take them, turned around to check on the Echo, and saw him staring at him. Behind the lenses of Echo Skull’s mask Akira could see that the Echo was blankly staring at the bottom step. Had the Echo followed him down? He didn’t even check…

“There’s no way you don’t know how stairs work,” Akira frowned, “You were fine earlier.”

It looked at him. No. Akira was not going to get attached to the ECHO of his best friend. No. Akira. He scolded himself.

“Let’s go,” He huffed and the Echo took his first step up. Akira sighed. No. He needs permission to follow him to new areas. Maybe it was because he summoned it on this floor? Akira sighed.

There weren’t many flights before they were met with the next door. Akira jiggled the handle and found it locked. He stepped back and looked for a different route. There was a vent up on the wall he had no hope of getting up to. He got the attention of Echo Skull and pointed at where he wanted him to stand. He nodded and went over. Akira then pointed up at the vent cover and he set up to boost Akira.

After placing his foot comfortably on Echo Skull’s hands he whistled shortly and hopped. With the Echo’s help he got up and despite the shaking of the Echo supporting his weight Akira managed to rip the cover off. He climbed in and reached his hand down. Echo Skull took it and Akira helped pull him up.

Akira had to remind himself again that the Echo was not Ryuji.

They crawled through the vents until it came to the next cover. It had view of a large room with some miscellaneous science and engineering equipment and iconography. Inside there was a larger and more detailed puppet, as well as a man. From where the vent cover was Akira could see his face. It was James Ruthers.

He wore a rather nice suit, with a blue mantle accompanying it, but over top a large, golden, ornate and highly detailed Gorget. His eyes were the tell tale yellow all Shadows had. The only other detail of note was the golden band that sat on his forehead and circled around his whole head.

“Lucius, my friend,” He said, “I hope you are well. You team, as always, performs above and beyond expectation. But I must deny your request for extra funds. Bruce is also remorseful but there are some projects below you that need more money. And you guys are fine on your own!”

“We’re doing good work here, James,” The large puppet clacked at him, “This isfor the anti air military commision.” Akira noticed that this puppet was well dressed, a bow tie that was so large it had to be exaggerated. A blue string was tied around his left hand.

“No, no, I know you’re doing important work,” James slightly laughed, “But again Bruce agreed that the funds you requested must go elsewhere. If you need more funding you can go to the military.”

The puppet clacked angrily at him. Akira kicked out the vent cover and dropped into the room with Echo Skull. James jumped and took a few steps towards the exit.

“Who are you?” He yelled.

Akira smirked, “I’m a phantom thief, and you’re my mark.”

Shadow James growled at him. “Lucius, deal with him,” He turned and strutted out of the room. The blue string glowed and dragged it towards the ceiling. Akira flipped back as the puppet began to twitch and wood sections bulged. Akira flinched hard as it exploded.

The black Metaverse goo formed into a red armoured figure atop a black horse. THe Shadow held a long spear. Akira remembered his first encounter with such a beast under similar circumstances.

Echo Skull called for his Persona. Captain Kidd emerged from the blue fire surrounding the Echo. Electricity crackled in the air around the duo before exploding out and making contact with the Shadow.

The horse instantly buckled and the rider with it. Akira nodded and he and Skull jumped into an All-Out-Attack. Akira got in a couple of slashes as well as a swift kick to the head. Echo Skull bashed against the back of it and the elbow.

They quickly broke from the attack and Akira summoned his Pixie. The sound of her flitting wings filled his ears over the huffing of the horse. He released his own Zio. The electricity shook the room and once again the two Thieves jumped into an attack.

After some swift blows they separated. One either side. It was looking rough.

The Shadow reeled back and stabbed at Echo Skull, connecting hard with his shoulder. Akira winced. Not missing his chance though, Captain Kidd came back out and the electricity once again brought down the Shadow again.

One final All-Out-Attack saw the end of the Shadow. Once again melting into the very fabric of the Metaverse. Akira looked around the room. There wasn’t anything on the surface, but when he flicked his Third Eye on there was a glow from the corner. He picked up a large key and pocketed it for later use before continuing to ascend the tower.

Peter had decided to make a trip to the library. On his way over he updated his fake IDs with his new address. He had an address now so he could check out some books! He was excited about actually getting to take them. Maybe he would climb up somewhere to read later? He did a lot of his highschool homework on New York rooftops over the years. Maybe he lost a few papers here and there but it was fine.

He took the steps up two at a time, feeling pretty good wearing new (enough) fresh clothes. The clouds overhead had been threatening to rain the whole time he had been in Gotham. According to the weather report it was uncharacteristically dry this time of year.

He pushed open the doors and smiled at Barbera as he walked past. She smiled back. Peter B-Lined straight to the sci-fi section and grabbed a few of his favourite, longer, books that exist in this world. He smiled as he set the books down on the counter.

“Ah, finally remember your address?” Barbera laughed as she took them to scan.

“Wrote it down and everything,”Peter nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

Barbera helped Peter set up his membership and he was more than happy as he walked out with his three books in his bag. He was going to go home, do some work on his suit, then read.

Barbera knew she had had that address come up recently. That Akira guy and Peter shared an apartment it seemed. She sent a text with this info to the family group chat. She received acknowledgement from Bruce and Tim that they’ve seen it. Good enough for her.

The building wasn’t far from where Dick had run into who Barbera figured was the same guy. Maybe Peter really did just forget where he was living? It was confusing, though. To say the least.

Akira had made his way up most of the tower. On his way up he had picked up an Eligor and a Berith to add to his stock. The two horse riders seemed uninterested in getting friendly. Also added an Incubus to the team which he wasn’t thrilled about. The thing looked way too weird. He planned on doing a fusion run before he stole the heart anyway.

The whole way up was a lot of the same, white hallways with blue tech going on behind the walls, large server rooms feeding further up the building, and offices.

He came to a locked door that had a large lock on it. He used the key he had picked up in Lucius’ room and it worked. Thankfully. The lock fell away from the door and Akira pushed through.

The sight he was met with could send any I.T person into a coma. Large server towers reached halfway up the room, which itself was about three storeys. There were double those on the ceiling. Dull electrical pulses turned off and on lights, sorting a near impossible amount of data.

Akira walked towards the centre of the room that took up what must have been the whole floor. There each section of data was labelled. Most of them were concerned with data relating to people. The paper people from the first floor sprang to mind.

He had read reports of James Ruthers’ infractions. Even a statement from Bruce Wayne about him. Suspicions of embezzlement, must be where the money he denied that Lucious guy was going to. Reports of him selling data of the social services Wayne Enterprises provided. Some even suspected him of working with villains. Bruce had stated that he was constantly running checks and balances to make sure these things didn’t happen. Using internal and external auditing systems and groups. Either he was lying, which if that was the case the paper trail was well fabricated, or James was capable of hiding a lot from the CEO.

Akira was tired as hell from that day as it was. But with the sudden realisation of just how deep this goes he felt a surge of energy. Maybe Tim would know something if he asked but Akira had a feeling he wouldn’t give away any info for free. Especially if this was something his senior thought he managed.

Or maybe they knew something and couldn’t do anything? That would make sense. As far as Akira could tell James was really good at covering up his trail. Must be initiating smaller scale projects within the company and funnelling money back to him through a complex series of shells. Or he was just pocketing a little off the top every so often.

Akira was determined to get to the bottom of this as he found the way forward. The next set of stairs were built into the wall so on his way up Åkira got to really take in the sight of the server room.

Until he heard a door open somewhere above him. He turned and saw the Echo following dutifully which Akira didn’t want to risk right now. He called it back. The Echo caught blue fire then became a spectral Chariot card which flew to Akira’s hand. It laid itself flat and faded away.

Akira found that handy and quickly hopped onto the top of one of the server towers and then down and behind some wires to hide.

He watched Shadow James wander down slowly. Really just looking at the towers. Behind him a detailed puppet clicked down the stairs. Akira squinted at it and realised it was Tim. The hoodie over the buttoned shirt, black slacks and red converse.

Akira forced himself to stay still and listen.

“Your little investigations into me, what a bother,” Shadow James spat, Puppet Tim flinched, “There is nothing you have as proof. You will get nothing out of this. Bruce trusts my family, as he did yours. You can do nothing.”

The puppet stayed silent and Akira clasped his own hand over his mouth with eyes wide behind his mask.

“Don’t give me the silent treatment, boy,” A dark tone entered Shadow James’ voice, “That last kidnapping didn’t work, but I doubt you’ll be lucky enough for Red Hood of all people to come save you again. If you keep looking into this Bruce will have another child to mourn.”

Akira pressed himself hard against the tower, feeling a random plug poking into his back.

“I understand,” Puppet Tim clacked, “Just, leave me alone. I’m here to see Bruce, not you, for a different reason.”

A reflection of a real world event. Like Lucius earlier. Rage simmered in Akira’s chest. Tim seemed like a good guy. God.

The Tim puppet went back up the stairs and Shadow James stayed looking over the towers. This was all of what Wayne had. Money, data, power. Akira could tell that's all of what James wanted. He heard whispers of James wanting to take over as CEO before Bruce got the chance to pass it on to Tim at some point down the line.

Akira growled as James left back the way he came before following after the door closed. THe door was large and painfully ornate. It gave easily to Akira kicking it in. A safe room nearby allowed Akira to rest for a moment. He calmed down. He needed to secure his route before he tried to get anything out of the real world.

He left and resummoned Skull’s Echo as he charged forward, he dispatched whatever Shadow stood in his way. The coming halls took on a very different appearance. Wood panelled walls, nice carpet, fineries like statues and paintings filling the walls. He gathered what items and funds he could. The only new Shadow he saw were Angels which Akira was too tired to try and negotiate with.

There were shelves across the top of the hall which Akira hopped onto. From up here he could avoid the Shadows. Skull’s Echo followed him up. At the end of this hall there was a large door with a movable cover above it. Akira hopped onto a small ledge by the cover and managed to get it off.

Passing through he saw a fancy office room. A large desk, ornaments on every surface. A loom-like item sat on the desk with hundreds of blue strings reaching up to the ceiling from it. Some strings were thicker than others. Behind the desk chair was a pedestal with the tell-tale shimmer of an unformed treasure. Akira smiled.

He had his route, especially with the Safe Room he sensed nearby. He would have to pick a time to send the Calling Card. And how. Gotham was a very different city to his Tokyo and he didn’t have Morgana. He also had to prepare.

Akira knew how these fights go. He never gets away without one. Convincing the Shadow to return to the Self was his priority.

He decided to explore the top floor for a bit. The halls were quiet for the time being. He turned a corner and saw a pretty unassuming door with a vent beside it. Akira figured to take the vent.

He could see into the room where he saw a large puppet in a black suit. The nameplate on the desk said “Bruce Wayne”. A single, thick, blue string was tied to the neck joining of the puppet. Beside the desk stood Puppet Tim. And Shadow James stood in front.

“Mr. Wayne you need to control your ward,” The Shadow sneered, “He keeps coming into my office and snooping. We’ve spoken about this before.”

“Of course, James, I will speak to him,” Creaked Puppet Bruce, “He’s got the mind of a detective. I’ll get him off your back.”

“Thank you.” Shadow James spat and turned on his heel swiftly leaving the room. Akira turned his eyes to the now inanimate puppets. A weight laid on his chest as he realised that James Ruthers had Bruce Wayne under his thumb.

Akira left the vent and passed back the other way from the CFO’s door and found the Safe Room he had felt earlier. He went in and fell onto the couch. Echo Skull Stood by the door dutifully. Akira raised his head and called him back. The card burnt away on his chest.

After a moment of rest he found the gap in cognition and navigated to the entrance. The grating sound of the gate filled his ears in the time it took him to take the exit.

Two… five… two… five… two… five… two… five…

Tim couldn’t meet Bruce’s eyes as they drove back to Wayne Manor. He had seen the hardness set in Bruce’s jaw and could feel the monolog coming on once he was dragged down into the Cave.

He frowned the whole way from the car, through the front door, past the kitchen and into his room. He threw his school bag down on the ground and slammed the door behind him.

Tim kept a lid on his anger. So long as he wasn’t banned from patrol tonight he would have plenty of time to work it off. He got ready for patrol by tapping his ankles and wrists despite this thought.

Alfred summoned him for dinner shortly after and Tim was sure Dick and Cass could feel the tension between him and Bruce. All were quiet. Dick was the first to cave and leave.

After eating Tim followed Bruce down the stairs and stayed behind him as he took his seat at the Bat Computer. He was vaguely aware of Alfred somewhere behind him.

“I’m disappointed we have to have this conversation again, Tim,” Bruce frowned, “Your hunch has turned up more and more dead ends and my own investigation was no better. James is a family-friend. His family has worked with the Waynes for a long time. I trust him.”

“I understand that, it’s just-!” Tim started before being cut off by Bruce turning to face him. His voice failed as he met Bruce’s eyes.

“You have a hunch. A feeling that something isn’t right. I know that you’re usually right about these things but for once it seems like you’re wrong. Please. Drop this.” Bruce looked so tired. TIm held his tongue. He was so sure of what he felt. THere had to be something they were missing. But he couldn’t find it.

“You’re allowed on patrol tonight as long as you promise to stop looking into this. Bothering James is the last thing I need you doing right now. Especially if you are going to be working with him in the future.” Bruce turned back to the computer.

“I’ll drop it.” Tim said. Bruce only nodded at him. When Tim turned to go put his suit on he saw Alfred giving him a sympathetic look. Tim wanted none of it.

Peter was reading at the table by the time Akira dragged himself into the apartment. Little did he know that his roommate had not only patterned out his whole suit but cut all of the pieces that day and was very proud of how little time it took him. It was way later in the day Akira wanted it to be.

Akira managed to heat up his dinner before finding the spot he would be for for the next few hours. He sunk into the couch and watched the free-to-air movies the whole night with Peter reading next to him. Quiet comfort.

Chapter Text

Peter woke up before Akira had. He could hear people in the building moving about and figured it was a normal human time and swung himself out of bed. He checked his phone, a part of him still expecting MJ or Ned to have messaged. The hollow spot in his chest gnawed at him until he stood up and went for a morning shower.

He grabbed clothes for the day and walked to the storey’s shower. The cool lino hall floor padded his feet as he left and walked the couple doors down to the bathroom. Cool white tile made up the floor and climbed halfway up the wall which stood out against dull cream drywall. There was slight water damage evident on the ceiling from no doubt years worth of steam catching up to it.

He stepped into one of the three shower stalls and pulled the vinyl shower curtain closed behind him. Before long warm water cascaded down his body causing his muscles to relax.

He heard someone humming. Peter tried to place the melody, but despite it being familiar it escaped him. The person used the bathroom and left. He finished rinsing his hair and then dried off and dressed. In the hallway there was a ginger person lent out the street facing window.

Peter grabbed the handle to his apartment and tried to turn it. He felt the resistance of the lock. He jiggled it around a bit, then checked his pockets and realised he was missing his keys. And his phone.

The person at the window laughed at him, puffs of smoke escaping their mouth.

“I’ve been locked out before, you can call the building manager to let you in if you need.” They said before bringing a cigarette up to their mouth and taking a drag.

“I don’t think I’m listed as a resident yet,” Peter sighed, “Unless my roommate is more on top of paperwork then I realise.”

“Yikes,” They frowned, “You should get that sorted, I have friends upstairs who had her boyfriend living with her but only her name was on the paperwork. Good thing she comes from a rich family and could pay him off, otherwise she would have been kicked out.” They took a small rest to smoke again before continuing. “Last place you wanna be in Gotham is on the streets.”

Peter noticed that the person he was talking to had an Australian accent, “Yeah, I was out there for a few days before my roommate took me in. I think it was lucky that nothing happened to me.”

They shrugged, “Depends on where you are, honestly, but the cops are quick to move people on. They check abandoned buildings when they can. Usually they try to corral people into the Bowery or Crime Alley. But that’s why all of those homeless shelters are being funded and made by the Waynes.”

Peter nodded and knocked again. Louder. He heard Akira stir and started getting up. The person in the hall had a steady, if a bit fast heart beat. He could hear the slight wheeze in their breath after each puff of smoke.

“If you’re gonna be suck out here for a while I can offer you a smoke,” They smiled, lifting the pack up.

“No thanks,” Peter shook his head, “I think if my aunt found out I was smoking I would be haunted.”

The person shrugged again, “Once I meet my dad in the afterlife I’m sure I’ll get an earful about it, but anything is better than dealing with this hell hole.”

Akira opened the door with a shit eating grin on his face, Peter's set of keys held up in his hand. “Forgot something, did we?”

The person by the window suppressed a chuckle as they turned back out to the dreary city. Peter scrunched his face up at Akira, a light dust of frustrated blush crossing his cheeks and he pushed past back into the apartment. Akira laughed as he closed the door. Peter would never let on that he found it amusing as well.

Akira’s hands moved purely on instinct as he brewed coffee. It was hardly a “rush”, but there were more customers than usual in the after school bustle. Gotham’s characteristic rain fell in a light mist. As the orders were filled and the people left to attend to their activities Tim Drake walked in. He shook off the water that clung to his rain jacket, the hood falling off as he did. Even from the counter Akira could see the dark circles under the boy’s eyes.

He frowned as Tim saw himself to a seat. The events of yesterday hung on his mind as he grabbed a notepad and approached his table, which Tim had set his laptop up at. He put on his best customer service face and asked the question.

“What can I get for you today?” Akira smiled, still put off by Tim’s energy.

Tim sighed, rubbing his eyes and frowning, “Honestly just a cup of black tea. I think I can feel the heart palpitations from all the energy drinks I had at school.”

Akira nodded and wrote it down, “Any food?”

“No thanks,” Tim shook his head. Akira nodded and went to walk away but Tim stopped him.

“Hey Akira,” Tim muttered, almost as though he hoped the older one wouldn’t hear him, “I want to ask you something.”

“What’s up?” Akira pocketed the notepad and took on a more relaxed stance, tilting his head at Tim.

The teen leant back against the booth seat and sighed again. “Wayne Enterprises prides itself on looking after the common man. Working for the common good of everyone. That’s why we have all the programs we do. I’m just worried that we’re starting to lose touch with it. I need someone to be a sort of information gatherer for me. Tell me what the regular people of Gotham really want. I know you’re new to town. But you work in a place that has normal people coming through. Please?”

Akira considered it. Perhaps he was quiet for too long because Tim added onto his pitch. “I’ll even teach you how to get better information and investigate! With both of us using these skills we’ll have a total understanding of Gotham and its inhabitants. I promise this is for good.”

Something out of it. A good skill he always wanted to hone and that he had wished he could have gotten from Akechi before everything with him went sideways. But there was always the present.

“If you can let me in on some upper class secrets, then I think I like this arrangement.” Akira smirked, allowing some of his natural nature to slip through.

“So long as you give me information. It’s a deal.” Tim returned the gesture, reaching a hand towards him. Akira took it firmly and they shook. A reignition burst in his soul.

Reawoken! Magician, Rank 1!
Information exchange unlocked with Tim. Now able to summon the Echo of Morgana in the Metaverse.

Akira let go first and nodded his head at Tim, who nodded back.

“I’ll let you in on something now, a show of good faith,” Tim relaxed, a light entering his eyes, “Bruce is planning a press conference for Wednesday next week. Steps of the Wayne building. I won’t say what it’s about, but I wouldn’t miss it if I were you.”

“I’ll have to come and see,” Akira assured. A time frame. Akira would have to rush getting the cards done. And a plan for where to put them. Tim seemed content with that and turned back to his laptop.

With that Akira went back to work. Making Tim his tea and assuring Elanor that everything was fine. He and Tim just had something to sort out. He got back into the work mindset, the familiar warmth of Morgana resting in his soul once more, accompanied by the new feeling of Tim’s bond. Alongside Ryuji and Peter.

“Catch!” Peter called when Akira opened the door. He clapped his hands around the small object flying at him then took it between his finger and thumb. It was a small, plain black ear piece. Akira raised an eyebrow at him.

“I used some of the cash you left behind for me, went to the electrical store nearby. I made two matching ear pieces that, no matter if all of the power and service is cut in Gotham, should still be able to connect. Frequency and single jammers shouldn't knock them out either.”

Akira inspected it. It looked like a plain earbud, if a bit pointier. The smooth black plastic shell had a rough quality to it, but it was impressive work to be done in a short time.

“That’s really cool,” Akira hummed, “You made them this afternoon?”

“Yeah,” Peter shrugged, “This is like most of the stuff I made working back in New York. Developing and stuff. I would like to refine them down the line, but the news has been talking about how common power and network outages are. Apparently they’re a favourite point of attack.”

Akira frowned. That could prove problematic with the Metanav. He wasn't sure if it actually needed any networks to function. He never had to test it. But he’ll have to cross that bridge when he gets to it.

“They beep when the other one comes online,” Peter had a confident glint in his eyes, “So if you keep it near you you’ll hear it, just use it in case of emergency.”

Akira found the “on” button and pressed it, an audible beep sounded from Peter’s. Peter turned his communicator on and Akira’s beeped.

“Hold the button down and it’ll turn off.” Peter demonstrated, Akira’s made a different beep to signify Peter’s going off. Peter’s beeped the same when Akira shut his off.

“This is really impressive,” Akira said, “Good work.”

Peter shrugged his shoulders, “This is what I’m good at, don’t worry about it.”

They fell into their evening routine, with Peter working on something and Akira cooking dinner.

Akira had a week to get the cards in order, and a method of distribution. It was time to get serious.

The next day as Peter tinkered with his new web shooter design when Akira burst back into the apartment. He had left after lunch that day to pick something up and now he had a printer and a laptop. Peter had asked what it was about, but Akira just said he wanted to have the option to have the option to print at home.

Akira spent a lot of time on the laptop, working on the card for James. He had found the logo Yusuke designed on his phone. Akira smiled as he placed it on the card. The red and black rings around it. His Emperor was not found in this world yet, but the bond was felt.

The same was true as he began to work on writing the card. It felt as though his Priestess Makoto was right by him. Despite her being an unfathomable distance away.

With the distant connection of these confidants, Akira managed to finish the card before the afternoon was over. He was quite proud of what he had made and that moment. He'd never been the one who really wrote the cards before. A seed of joy and hope sprouted in his soul as he exported the file into a printable format. Now all he needed was enough time on his own to have them ready for the plan he hadn’t come up with yet.

He wasn't sure when the plan would be ready, but he had to have it before next Wednesday. He needed a way to set this up, a dramatic reveal. It had to be big, he had to establish the Phantom Thieves in this universe. He closed the laptop and told Peter he would be going for a walk around the block and left.

Peter’s gaze lingered on the door after it shut for a few seconds, he could hear Akira leave, his now familiar heart beat and steps growing distant. After a few more seconds of idle Peter stood and fished out his web shooters. The design was still far too bulky and he hadn’t properly tested his new web fluid.

The hustle and bustle of the city did nothing to calm his mind. Akira kept his eyes forward against the light mist that fell over Gotham. Droplets collected on his lenses which made it harder to navigate around the swath of people that occupied the streets all times of day.

Most Gothamites were fast movers, holding their belongings close and wrapping themselves up in coats. Frowns painted their faces. No one dressed rich. No one wanted to be a target.

More of those clown mask people were occupying the steps of a nearby building. There were seven of them. The buildings on this street were all dull browns and greys, the pop of green and red was eye-catching. Akira tried not to stare for long as he passed. The masked people would snap to and watch people passing in the street, and everyone rushed past them.

They creeped Akira. Once he put distance between himself and them he rubbed the back of his neck. It didn’t get rid of the uneasy feeling settling at the base of his skull but it made it better. At least a bit.

He had seen two groups of those people now. A police car went past him. He should probably look into it. The officers stopped in front of the group. This city was full of crazy things, what was one more thing he needed to track. The officers were yelling at the clowns to move along. Akira turned to see what was going on. The clowns all started jeering back. The officers pulled their weapons out and took aim. Akira watched as the crowd formed, phones out. The clowns continued to shout as one of them pulled something out of their pocket. The officers shouted to drop the object. The clown cracked the end of it and colourful smoke began to spew out. The other clowns followed suit and soon a large cloud of multicoloured smoke obscured all from view.

The clowns all took off in separate directions, mostly covered by their haze. One carrying a green one charged past Akira which he managed to side step. The street was covered in all shades of the rainbow, people were sneezing and coughing from irritation. As it cleared people noticed that the pigment had settled on clothing and buildings. The colour had begun to seep into wet fabrics, more obvious in lighter, synthetic, materials. A large splotch of green had already begun taking to Akira’s light grey turtleneck. He wasn’t thrilled about that, green wasn’t his colour.

Colour was running off into the drains already as the colourful haze dissipated. People seemed more bothered by the colour of their clothes than the event itself which Akira was a bit baffled by. Was the city really this weird all the time?

Akira took in the sight one final time and continued his walk in deep thought.

At the same time Peter was securing his first set of new web shooters in Gotham. A web fluid cartridge set. He checked that the pressure point was sitting on the correct part of his palm before locking the device on his wrist. He was sitting at the dining table, to his right there was the entrance, kitchen, couch, coffee table and TV. To his left were the two beds. The kitchen extended up the wall to where the dining table was. The walls were bare other than the heavy curtains hanging against the windows.

Peter turned on his seat to the blank wall behind him and shot. The webbing came out wrong. It didn’t stick properly, creating more of a cloud than a proper shot. He frowned knowing he would have to troubleshoot the hell out of to find what’s wrong with it. Not that he had the time to do it today, Akira could be back soon. Peter had secretly been hoping he had it in one.

He ejected the web cartridge for further testing and stashed his gear away under his bed. Peter liked the challenge, but he needed to be faster. Spider-Man needed to make his debut in the city.

After about ten minutes Peter heard Akira coming back. He said hi to one of their neighbours before re-entering the apartment. Peter had moved to the couch and was watching TV. Akira joined him for the night and recounted the event from his walk. Both were uneasy about it.

“Enjoy your coffee, have a good day!” Akira smiled at the well-dressed man. He nodded to the barista as he walked away. Akira kept his polite smile on for a few seconds before dropping it. Elanor smirked at him from where she was cleaning tables.

“You’re not used to this many customers in one day, are you?”

“No,” Akira shook his head, “Sojiro’s place was really quiet. Definition of hole in the wall. There was one whole article about it in a local newspaper and that’s pretty much all the documentation it had.”

“Wow, so what, you had like three, if that, people in a day?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“On quiet ones, usually a few more.” Akira shrugged.

“How did he keep that place in business?”

“Money from his previous career, mostly.” He laughed.

“Must have been lucrative.” Elanor put her rag in her back pocket and made her way back to the counter.

“Something like that.”

Quiet settled over the cafe as the lunch period came to an end. Akira was doodling on napkins to fill the time between customers. He would usually work on homework when he was at Sojiro’s so he needed something new. Elanor had disappeared into the kitchen at some point leaving Akira alone. After a couple came in and he finished serving them he turned back to his doodles and surprised himself.

He had sketched a little drone, carrying the Mona-Bomb. It was a near perfect idea. A drone dropping the cards over the press conference. Flashy, attention grabbing, impossible to ignore. Everything he wanted. Pocketing the napkin, his internal fire roared.

The rest of the day flew by and Akira messaged Peter telling him he would be home late with dinner. Peter responded to the message with a thumbs up as he struggled with the new sewing machine.

Akira rushed over to the Wayne building, he wanted more information and to add to his funds. The cash most Shadows drop was nothing to sneeze at. He also needed to stop by the Velvet Room and fuse which was his first movement when he made it into the Metaverse.

“Trickster, in a rush are we?” Lavenza hummed, Igor was missing from his usual perch at his desk.

“Just a bit, Lavenza,” Akira nodded, “Where’s the boss?”

“There’s always something going on around here,” Lavenza shrugged, “What can I do for you?”

Akira smiled and set about fusing. His Silky and Berith became Jack Frost, and Eligor and Pixie became High Pixie. He hadn’t thought he would be strong enough to get a High Pixie yet but he started on a stronger lead then the last couple of times he had been around.

He felt them settle in his mind, and Satanael welcomed them. With a goodbye from Lavenza Akira was off back into the Palace, the grating scraping of the door still filling his ears. He slipped through Cognition and went to the furthest in Safe Room. Top level. If he wanted more info he would need to look through offices or try and find stuff in the systems down below.

He summoned the Mona Echo. The vacant anthropomorphic cat stared up at him. Overly large head without a single true through behind it. Akira decided he didn’t need Echos right now and dismissed him, the Magician Card returning to its spot in his soul.

Ruthers’ office was his next stop. From where he was he could hear some kind of meeting going on so Akira hid in the vent.

“Bruce still has no idea,” Shadow James Ruthers sneered, “My trail is so hard to uncover, all thanks to you all.”

Akira could see what looked like holograms of a few other men. One of them spoke up. “My holding companies have never looked better, and my steel company is the healthiest it’s ever been.”

“You should be glad,” Shadow Ruthers barked, “Lucius wanted to change suppliers for “Higher quality steel”. I said that we should value reliability over what is labelled as higher quality. He had to back down, as in the end it was my call.”

“And I have to thank you for getting my farms as your main food supplier,” Another said, “We’ll continue to trickle money back to you through your shells.”

“So that’s how it’s done,” Akira muttered. Nearly imperceptible. Holding companies, shells, real companies, probably some tax write-offs, questionable art purchases, and cycles. Probably just what looked like a regular purchase that ended up lining James Ruthers pockets eventually/

Akira shuffled out of the vent and dropped back into the hallway. He looked at the door before moving on. Tim was right. That’s all Akira wanted to hear.

So he spent some time dealing with shadows and creating a solid financial base for the time being. The drone is going to cut in a bit more than he would like but he could get more than one use out of it. He was beaten to shit by the time he was done, able to heal most of it but a large bruise on his right leg from a Bicron charging him and a bump at the base of his neck from a slip while dodging were beyond his stamina to heal.

Pushing back into reality he felt the weight of exhaustion hit him. He felt his vision blur for a second, and the sun was going down. Akira swore and started making his way home quickly, noting that the sprain he got on his ankle hadn’t fully healed.

Akira: hey im on my way home, there’s a place near the apartment called “bat burger” i wanted to check out if you wanna look at their menu.

Peter: i’ll take a look. get back quick.

Akira put his phone away and started to speed walk home, hopping on a train, and then walking more. He had gotten Peter’s order and made his way into the fast food restaurant.

It was cosy enough. A dark and cool colour pallet with a retro diner aesthetic with distinctly Batman themed decor. White and black tile with little blue bats along the top row as it met the drywall a third of the way up. Pale blue cushion seated booths ran along the window with regular seating in the centre area.

An order for a Bat-Burger Deluxe meal for Peter and a Nightwing Meal for Akira. The employee taking his order in a Batman costume seemed enthusiastic. Genuinely enthusiastic. It was a little jarring in the otherwise bleak landscape outside. The whole place felt like it was transplanted out of the 60s. A weirdly different time.

After a few minutes of waiting and some other orders getting taken and collected. Akira gladly took his and rushed home, trying to look intimidating while carrying the thick paper bag with the Bat Burger branding on it was hard.

By the time he got back Peter had stashed his half sewn suit, trying to hide the few pricks he got when he had to resort to hand stitching a bit. Peter was quick to notice the slight limp Akira had on his right leg.

“Everything okay?” Peter asked, taking his seat on the couch as Akira sorted through the bag.

“Oh yeah,” Akira replied, “I was at the gym and slipped, twisted my ankle, hurt like hell but it’ll be fine.”

“You go to the gym?” Peter raised an eyebrow, “Didn’t pin you as the type.”

To be fair, Akira hadn’t found a new gym yet, nor had he looked, but he tried to keep up some kind of workout schedule.

“Keeps my body and mind healthy,” Akira smiled, handing Peter his meal, “I can take you some time, if you would like.”

“I would,” Peter smiled as he took his food, “It would be nice to refine some of my skills.”

“Anything on you remind that you feel like watching?”

The two settled into the night, Peter had grabbed a frozen bag of peas and gave it to his roommate. Akira placed it on his ankle and Akira fell asleep on the couch that night.

While Akira was out at work for the day Peter dedicated the day to Spider-Stuff. In the morning he worked on his web-shooters. Finding that he had a mixture issue in his web-fluid and in the actual shooting mechanism that helped weave the web together. It was an easy enough fix. A test single shot and a proper line showing all was good put a smile on his face. That was all he would need for now, the fancy stuff could come with time.

After he had lunch he worked on finishing his new suit. He was using a black base for the suit, with red used for side panels that hugged his hips and waist, cutting off just before his chest, red boots and glove sections as well as his Spider-Symbol on his chest and back. Light grey webbing details ran over the red and his mask. The mask was solid black, and he had placed the face panel to keep it off his face a bit. Hard bits of plastic made the reactive lenses, which he could make in his sleep these days.

The suit was laid out on the table, hard rubber soles were the last thing he had to sew in which he took from a pair of boots he found at the thrift nearby. With that final addition, he was ready. Carefully trying the arm on with the web-shooters. The placement was perfect. It wasn’t anything Stark made, it was missing some padding where it counted but Peter was proud. He could always come back and upgrade it. Tonight he will go out as Spider-Man. It was time.

He stashed the suit and web-shooters in a backpack and placed it under his bed. He was excited to get out, to see what it was like in the streets.Start making a name for himself.

When Akira got back he started cooking dinner, Peter told him he would be out for the night after he had dinner and Akira told him to be safe. They ate, Peter took the backpack, his keys and his earpiece and left.

He changed in an alley next to the apartment block and took a moment to breath before pulling his mask over his face. He tested the lenses, feeling them with his hand to make sure they were working correctly. With one final shake of his arms, his new black and red suit was ready to go, and so was he.

Peter ran up the side of the building, swinging as he got to the top and flying over the streets. For just a moment everything was slow, the feeling of wind on the outside of the suit, his feet far from the ground, the pull of gravity and his defiance of it. For just that moment he was back in New York, and everything was fine.

He caught himself with a web and felt his back stretch as his legs led him through the swing. He kicked out, falling back into his usual rhythm quickly, starting to commit the street layout to memory. He felt the pull of gravity against him as he swung around a building, flinging himself in the air and feeling himself float for just a couple of seconds before plummeting towards the road. He caught himself at the last second and kept swinging and swinging.

It wasn’t long until he heard his first incident of the night. A woman called for help and Peter was eager to get there and help. Spider-Man hopped onto the wall and attached himself, stilling to watch the situation.

The woman was pressed into the back of the alley, two men stood over her brandishing knives while one of them held a purse. They were laughing at her as she cried, Spider-Man could see a cut on her left arm. It wasn’t deep, probably a slash against her when she tried to fight.

He slowly crept down the wall watching the men carefully, they swayed as they chuckled to themselves, drunk probably. The one without the purse kept shaking the knife at the woman which caused her to pull further back. Spider-Man sat himself on the wall, readying his best Jersey accent.

“Is that your purse, sir, very fashionable!” He called as he shot two web strings at the one without the stolen item. The webs stuck to the man and he pulled him up into the air, before webbing him again and slamming him into the wall. Spider-Man let him drop onto the dumpster under him as he leapt down in front of the other guy.

“Who are you?” The purse bearing man slurred, bring the knife up to level Spider-Man’s chest.

“I’m Spider-Man, hyphen between Spider and Man,” Peter was focused a lot on keeping up a local accent, he almost missed the shift in the man as he readied to attack. Spider-Man’s Senses flagged it however and he was the first to act, attaching a web to the wall behind the man and pulling himself forward to land a punch against his face. He was pulling hard on it, a pretty normal strength punch all things considered. The man lost his footing in a rather embarrassing display and splayed out on the ground. Spider-Man used his webs to stick him to the floor before dragging his buddy over and sticking him to the top of his buddy.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” Spider-man asked, offering her her purse.

“Yes,” She said curtly, “Are you a new bat?”

Spider-Man shook his head, “No, I’m a free agent for the time being, doing my own thing. Call me Spider-Man.”

“Spider-Man” The woman tested the name, finding it agreeable, “Okay Spider-Man, thank you.”

She rushed out of the alley and Peter went fishing for a phone in one of the mens pockets, finding one.

He dialled 911 and the answer was quick, “Hi, there’s a couple drunk muggers at the location of this call, don’t worry they’re stuck pretty tight. They’ll be stuck for three hours at least so no rush. Just wanted to let the authorities know.”

Peter hung up and dropped the phone next to the muggers. They tried to protest but he launched himself out of the alley and swung away. He involved himself in a couple more similar instances throughout the night, muggers, would be store robbers, one attempted stabbing. He would web them up and call the authorities before leaving.

As he got changed back into his civilian clothing Peter couldn’t help but feel proud. He had a good night. In the next day or two his name would be out there for the world to see. Spider-Man.

He quietly reentered the apartment

Chapter Text

Akira quietly waited for his lunch to cook as Peter slept. He had no idea how long his roommate was up last night but he was trying not to wake him. He was still fiddling with the wording of the calling card. He needed it to be as good as possible for the debut.

Peter stirred, grumbling to himself. Akira looked over to see him waking up, curling into himself as his eyes opened.

“Kept the apartment a bit dark for you,” Akira smiled, “Didn’t want to wake you up too early.” Peter mumbled something incomprehensible and grabbed around at his nightstand.

“You didn’t get changed before you got into bed,” Akira chuckled, “Big night?”

“You have no idea…” Peter laughed. Grabbing his phone out of his pocket.

“Apparently a new hero showed up last night,” Akira tabbed over to the article, “some Spider-Man guy. People think he’s with the Bats. Wouldn’t be the first time one of them just showed up suddenly. Although according to the witness she said he wasn’t with them.”

Peter froze for just a second, before coming back to himself. “That’s kinda cool,” Peter shrugged, sitting up to search for anything that came out. “Quick turn around.”

“Yeah, apparently one of the people he saved last night was a reporter who was clearly very inspired.”

“Lucky,” Peter pulled up the article. It was short, no photo attached, but it was charitable. A good first impression to the city.

“I was inside all last night, wish I saw him.”

“Maybe,” Akira shrugged, “What were you up to, don’t have to share but I’m curious.”

Peter had not thought of a lie yet. Was Akira on to him or did he just want to know? Should he have gone out during the night before to stop this? No time to think, he just let the first thing tumble out of his mouth.

“Uh I was doing some security contract work,” Fuck, “Just a small business hiring me. Nothing crazy.” God damn it Peter you don’t make money Akira’s gonna start expecting you to pay for stuff if you do this. He didn’t want to free load but work had been the last thing on his mind.

“That’s pretty cool,” Akira smiled, “Anything interesting happen?”

“Nah, just some stuffy building.”

Akira shrugged and went back to his laptop. The small suspicion he had faded. Peter had some decent muscle on him, work like that would suit a guy that looked like him. Maybe not his temperament but that can change on the job. Akira retrieved his lunch and offered a serving to Peter which he happily took.

The next few days went by slowly. Monday at the cafe. On his way home Akira picked up a drone. One with a little claw to grab and hold objects and a phone app you could program actions into. He was sure to wear gloves while handling Phantom Thief objects so he wouldn’t get his fingerprints on them. That evening Peter went back out. Nothing major. That night Akira printed a whole lot of cards on red paper. He stashed them under his bed in a bag.

Tuesday, Akira spent time searching for a gym he could join. One that had gymnastic equipment he could use. He eventually found one nearby and made a note to check it out later. After that he went to the alley near the Wyane building with all of the cards and a bag. He needed to make sure his plan would work.

He placed a few cards into a drawstring bag and attached the bottom of it to the back of the drone while holding the front, flying the drone up and releasing the claw. The couple of cards he stashed dropped out and Akira called it there. Stashing the rest of the cards and the drone in a hidden spot under the dumpster, hoping they would be safe overnight.

Spider-Man had started to gain a name for himself, telling the people he saved his name, with the hyphen. News spread and the Bats started to take notice. This was a serious vigilante based on some of the things he was doing. Stopping moving cars, jumping into gun fights. Strong and fast. Meta, probably. Batman wanted to have a conversation.

By the time Peter got home Akira was asleep, a note left out for him saying “There’s a press conference at the Wayne building I want to check out at midday. I got it cleared with my boss that I’m good to go. After that I won’t be home after my shift until late. Maybe come along to the conference, if we have time I would love to introduce you to a friend there.”

Peter decided if he was awake he would go check it out. And promptly passed out after getting changed.

Akira stood in the crowd of people not far back from the line of cameras and reporters, Peter could see him and squished his way through to meet up with him.

“You made it,” Akira said, “Got home earlier than usual?”

“Yeah,” Peter laughed, “Luckily. I read your letter last night and figured it could be interesting. Also, you have other friends besides me?”

“I do!” Akira stammered, “Not many, but at least like two.”

“Uh-huh, and who is this other friend? You said they would be here?”

“Just wait,” Akira smirked mischievously, “He’ll be here soon. Also, the Signal is here, up on that building.” Akira jerked his head backwards and Peter followed it, spotting the yellow clad hero.

“Someone else is up there,” Peter squinted trying to see it better, “I haven’t seen that one before…”

“The full black suit? Neither.” Akira shook his head. Peter took mental note of this mystery Bat and turned back to face the podium at the top of the steps. The Wayne building stood tall over the city, a giant W stood on the side on the front of the building and a domed roof covered it. It blended in with the gothic art deco aesthetic the whole city had. Sharp angles, interesting details. It reminded Peter of a few buildings in New York if you multiplied it by hundreds.

Bruce Wayne stepped through the automatic glass doors of the building and took his place at the podium with two men flanking him. Cameras began flashing.

“Thank you all for being here,” Bruce smiled at the crowd, “It warms my heart to see so many Gothamites here to hear about our plans for the future of this city. As always I am glad to thank you for your support of my company, family and me. We would not be anywhere near where we are without you citizens and I cannot thank you enough. Now, onto what I have to tell you…”

Bruce Wayne gave an overview of recent company successes, the shelters, food banks, hotlines. As well as product launches and recent charities the company donated too. Figures from the latest Wayne charity Gala were also thrown in which was met with applause.

“I want this company to be transparent with you all, letting you know where we're going, so I invite up Lucius Fox to discuss product and research development.” Bruce stepped aside and a dark skinned man stepped up to take his place and Bruce fell back.

“Thank you, Bruce,” The man smiled over his shoulder then turned to address the crowd, “Most recently my branch of the company has been working to create sturdy and affordable prosthetics…”

Lucius listed off a few projects and how they were developing. To Peter it sounded like ground breaking stuff. Maybe he needed to wriggle his way in to take a look at their tech.

“Now here's James Ruthers, our chief financial officer, to update you on where we are buying our materials and selling our products, as well as where our funding will be going in the coming months.” Fox stopped back and a greying white man took his spot. He reminded Peter of Tony in the way he carried himself, from before his Iron Man days. Arrogant, snobbish, uninterested in the world below.

“I appreciate it Lucius,” The man adjusted his blazer as he spoke, “We are staying with all our old material providers, after all they have proven reliable…”

James went on to prattle off about resource management and expenses in that area before Bruce not so subtlety cleared his throat, causing the other man to get back on track. He discussed what charities they were looking to fund off a sheet and local interest investing in hospitals and clinics. He spoke of how well Wayne was selling across the states and beyond as well as how much of those profits were going to their charity fund.

Peter was glad a company was this willing to be open. It was unusual, no one back home would ever consider this, but it was effective. Peter felt like he could trust a company of all things in this city.

Bruce took post at the podium again and began summarising the conference. Peter noted a kind dimness to his voice, like he was doing a rehearsed script but didn’t quite understand it. He seemed happy to be here though so Peter couldn’t be too dismissive of him. As Bruce wrapped up, thanking everyone for being there, red cards began to float down from above. Red cards with a logo and writing. Peter searched for the culprit, a drone with a bag attached to it.

The Signal grappled the drone, pulling it towards him and his buddy. They started to shut it down when it exploded in their grasps, covering them in red pigment and destroying most internal components.

At the same time Bruce Wayne grabbed one out of the air, as well as his two fellow company leaders. Peter tried not to laugh at the two vigilanties now covered in striking red. He jumped up to grab one of the cards as it got close. He held it low and Akira lent in to read the magazine style lettering.

Dear James Ruthers,

A man of your stature has much to gain from underhanded tactics and going behind backs. You don't respect Bruce, or Lucius, or the company you work for itself. Seeing all as puppets, only useful in lining your pockets.

Tonight we shall steal the distorted desires you hold within and expose you for who you really are, for we are the Phantom Thieves of Hearts!

Murmurs broke out in the crowd as people read. “Have you heard of these guys before?” “Stealing hearts? Like literal hearts?” “A new group?” Peter turned the card over to look at the logo. A hat and mask with flames burning from one eye. Sleek. Graphic style text under the mask read “TAKE YOUR HEART”.

Bruce turned and told James to go inside with Lucius then spoke into the microphone as panic broke out amongst the crowd.

“Everyone! Please, go about your day, let the authorities investigate this incident. We will ensure James's safety. Go!” The crowd began to scatter. GCPD officers began ushering people away as a command came over their walkie-talkies. The Signal hopped down to start aiding where he could as the other Bat began digging through the remains of the drone.

“Tim!” Akira called and ran towards the front of the crowd. Peter tried to follow but got cut off. He tried to spot his friend but there was too much movement and the noise was beginning to overwhelm him so he followed their path of dispersal.

Akira navigated through the crowd. He had seen Tim to the right of the barricade earlier and hoped he was still there.

Tim stood in the panic movement of the crowd still as a statue, staring at the logo on the calling card, eyes wide and mouth agape. Akira barged through to him and called his name which got him to snap out of it.

“Akira,” Tim called back, then jumping to see him so close, “You made it.”

Akira nodded, “You invited me, didn’t want to disappoint.”

“Thanks,” Tim smiled hallowly then looked down at the calling card in his hands, “What is this about, this is the first I’m hearing of them…”

“Same,” Akira lied, “I know there are a lot of names in this city, but if a local like yourself hasn't heard of them…”

“Newcomers, going after Wayne. They have to have a death wish.”

More like a flair for the dramatic, but Akira would take it.

“Tim!” Dick Grayson appeared from the crowd and clasped Tim's shoulders as he stopped, “Do you have any idea what these are?” Akira detected a slight accusatory tone in the older man's voice but he ignored it.

“I have never seen these before.” Tim stared at the card. Akira knew Tim wanted James out of the picture, but Tim seemed enamoured by it.

“Wonderful,” Dick sighed then turned to Akira, “Are you both okay? I'm worried there is something else in the air other than these cards.”

“I feel fine,” Akira shrugged, “Seems like it was just these.” He held up one of the cards.

“That's good at least,” Dick muttered putting a thinking face on.

“Tim! Richard!” Bruce Wayne called from the stairs. “Come with me, now!”

They both shot off leaving Akira without another word, Tim still carrying the card with him. Akira slid the card he had grabbed during the conversation into his bag. A keepsake for his first mission here. The vision of Shadow James played in his head as he made his way back to the cafe.

“You want my heart, try it! No one will ever discover my truth!”

Tim and Dick entered the Wayne building behind Bruce. Employees gathered in the foyer trying to figure out what was going on, James stood with his assistant fuming while Lucius attempted to break up the groups and send them back to their duties. He wasn’t being very successful.

“Timothy Drake!” James shouted and stomped over to him, “Did you have something to do with this!”

“No!” Tim sneered back, “I didn't! I have nothing to do with this!”

“Are you lying? If I find out you threatened me like this!”

“James!” Bruce yelled, “Back off. I will talk to him later. Everyone else get back to your stations! Once we figure out what's going on you will all be informed.”

The crowd started to thin after Bruce's command. He was the CEO, but he was also Batman. He knew when to turn it on.

“Tim, Dick, go back to the manor. We'll talk there.” Bruce said. As the two were about to leave, Signal and Robin came through the door.

“Hello Mr. Wayne,” Signal greeted, “I'm here on behalf of Batman to take Mr. Ruthers to a safe location to be guarded by us.”

“Yes I think that's for the best,” Bruce nodded, “If he agrees to go, take him. I want him safe. I don't like the implications of heart stealing.”

Signal nodded sharply and went to take James away. He was still covered in red pigment powder which Tim found a little amusing. He and Dick left and got into Dick's car. The drive home was quiet as both journeyed their minds. Once they got home they greeted Alfred then made their way to Bruce's office then down into the cave with him and waited for the man himself. For over two hours.

When Bruce appeared he said nothing, descending the stairs before he sat himself at the Bat computer.A moment of silence passed before he turned to face Tim.

“You had nothing to do with this?”

“No.”

“No planning, no talking about, no involvement at all?”

“No, Bruce.”

“Any leads?”

“No.”

“Okay. If that’s the case I want everyone on high alert.” Batman turned back to face the Bat Computer, work mode engaged. “Signal will come back to get cleaned up before going back on patrol. Robin and Batgirl will keep watch over Ruthers until I get there and replace Batgirl. We’ll get Red Hood on the roofs around the Wayne Building to keep an eye out. Nightwing, stake out his home. If these Phantom Thieves do show up, that's the most likely place they’ll go. GCPD will also likely be around. Red Robin I want you on patrol to deal with our regular nightly activities. Hopefully that new Spider-Man guy is out so we have another set of hands dealing with everything. It’s still a priority to get in contact with him. Spoiler will be out with you.”

“Why aren’t you going out on guard now?” Nightwing asked as he shook his suit out.

“Because Oracle and I will be trying to dig up information on these Thieves. See if they’ve done something like this before. Or anything similar. If this is a real threat I want to be prepared.”

“Is there anything you want from me, Master Wayne?” Alfred asked, standing tall as Tim and Dick got into their costumes.

“Make sure Duke gets cleaned up,” Bruce said, “And that Batgirl gets some rest time after I tag in. Other than that your usual duties will suffice.”

“And a late dinner, I presume?” A smile crept onto the butler’s face, “Coming and going to eat as time allows?”

“Of course, Alfred, it's gonna be an interesting night.”

Akira wrapped up his shift with a message to stay safe from Elanor as they closed. Fin had been talking about the press conference since she got to the cafe after school. Apparently she snuck out of class to go see it which her mother was not thrilled about. When Elanor turned her back Akira gave her a thumbs up.

The evening air carried tension across the city. Checking online people were worried that James Ruthers’s real heart was going to be taken. Akira understood why that would be a fear in this city, but he was going to show them that wasn’t their MO.

The area around the building was busy with police activity. Akira kept his head up and hands in pockets. The last thing he needed was the cops on him.

He ducked into the alley way and behind a dumpster to collect his thoughts for a moment. He scanned the area with his Third Eye and nothing stood out so he traveled into the Palace.

“I’ve pulled up nothing,” Oracle sighed over the com, “This must be the first time they’re using this name…”

“Nothing here either,” Batman growled, “They must be new, or have been very good at covering their tracks up to this point.”

“Then why would they go public now? Why James? And their claims in the letter. There's no way, right?”

“Tim had his suspicions for a while. We didn’t have much proof other than a couple shading looking deals with suppliers that he’s friends with but other than that I never found anything.”

“There have been rumours going around online about Wayne Enterprises supposedly being corrupt at the top, but you’ve pretty good at keeping it clean.”

Batman lent back in his chair. It was 5:45 and he wanted to get out. “I have. The accusations towards James… I’ve known him most of my life, I can’t believe this without proof.”

“And if it turns out to be true?”

“I’ll have to act.”

A moment of quiet passed between them. Oracle had held her tongue on something a bit too long.

“You think Tim did it, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure. I have a suspicion. He confronted Ruthers last week about his hunch. Releasing these… Calling Cards during the press conference as well? I have him in his suit so I can keep track of him and have the footage of the night. If anything happens I’ll know.”

“Fair enough,” Oracle looked over to one of her screens, “He’s near the Bowery at the moment. Moving. Looks like he’s covering some of Red Hood’s usual haunts.”

“That’s a good enough idea. I’ll get going then. We’ve been trying for hours looking everywhere. If there’s nothing there’s nothing. Cass has been out too long.”

“Good luck, B.” Oracle smiled. Then something caught her eye. “Wait, I turned up the sensitivity on some of the energy sensors around the Wayne Building just in case and I picked something up across the street.”

“Get Red Hood there to check, switch to the main line.”

“Affirmative,” Oracle nodded before flicking her communicator over, “Red Hood, there’s been a weird energy spike at the coords I’m sending to your helmet, could you check that out. It’s pretty small but I don’t want to ignore it.”

“Will do,” Red Hood grunted, “Keep you updated.”

“Thank you.” Oracle sighed. Sometimes energy spiked in weird ways across the city, which meant to get any actual results they had to turn the sensitivity of their sensors down. But this didn’t match the usual patterns. It was a small deviance. She would have to properly analyse it to get any real conclusion but that's what she was there for. She is the Oracle, after all.

Akira could feel the pressure of High Security within the Palace. The gates stood closed and the sky glowed red. He took in the tall stone tower one last time before finding a gap in cognition and slipping through, finding himself at the top of the tower’s safe room.

Akira summoned two Tarot cards. The Magician and the Chariot, blue flames swirled around them as they flew out of his hand. Echo Skull and Mona stood as the flames died down and the leader was painfully aware of how underprepared he was to be going in without a fourth. As well as how much he missed their real counterparts.

He pushed the door open and climbed up onto the ornate ledge in the hallway and ran for James’s office, ignoring the fired up Shadows below him as he closed in on his target. He jumped down behind a line of shadows guarding the door and slid quietly through the large doors with the Echos following close behind.

The office was empty and quiet. It felt odd to Akira as he looked around. The Treasure had manifested. An ornate, golden wall clock. Echo Mona meowed at it as Akira went to pick it up. Clearly something carried over. The clock shined as he turned it over in his hands, an engraving on the back was too worn to read. He tucked it under his arm and turned to leave when the floor gave out from under him and he fell.

Peter swung up onto a building near the Wayne building. There was a strong security force present all around. Clearly Wayne took protection seriously.

He hopped across a few buildings to case the area, hoping to catch sight of something suspicious. He wasn’t sure if this was a criminal thing or a vigilante thing and he wanted to be sure before throwing punches. Hopefully without throwing punches.

Peter walked across the edge of a building, watching police and guards move underneath him. His Senses picked up someone else moving on the rooftops, a Bat probably, but he didn’t really mind. He had been trying to avoid them the past few days. He is not ready for anything to do with this world's vigilantes.

His eyes traced the building over and over again. Trying to figure out the perfect perch. But the more he looked at a building the more complex he realised it was. On the surface it was a perfectly normal corporate building. At least for the most part. The giant W built into the primary structure was different. Cutting into windows. However, all of the windows were thick. He wanted to get close to test how sturdy they were. How tight they were secured into their frames.

Other than the windows the building itself had high security, with cameras attached at high points that most wouldn’t have. Even in this city. If he focused on his hearing he caught a lot of quiet beeping originating from the building that Peter and gotten from many security systems over the years. There were plenty of security guards inside the building as well.

After Peter dropped his focus on that he noticed he had gotten closer to the Bat that was nearby. Curiosity prickled in his mind, he wanted to know who was here. Quietly Peter hopped across buildings coming in closer and closer. Around the left side of the Wayne building he found him.

A red helmet caught the light of the street he was lent over, gun holsters strapped to his legs, his cargo pants were belted at his waist and tucked into this heavy combat boots, the thick piece of armor he wore on his torso carried a red Bat insignia that was covered by a similarly coloured red vest, a tight black shirt cut off before his elbows. Peter assumed this was the fabled Red Hood he read so much about. The articles did no justice to how intimidating and shredded he was.

He had a hand up to the side of his helmet, Peter could hear that he was talking before he dropped his hand. He took a dramatically exaggerated breath then turned and walked towards where Peter was currently standing on a wall. Red Hood noticed him and stopped.

“Can I help you?” He asked, tilting his head to straighten up Spider-Man in his vision.

“Uh,” Peter froze for a second, he wasn’t sure what to expect from this and he was terrifiied. It was like that time he ran into Daredevil on patrol once. Reputation precedes them.

“Speak up kid I don’t have all night.” Red Hood sighed, “It’s barely even started and I’m already done with it.”

“Right, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Why not? Because I’m the scary Bat that uses guns?” An amused tone came into his voice as he continued his walk.

“Well, yeah kind of,” Spider-Man walked with him, still on the wall, “You just didn’t strike me as the type to do this kind of thing. Nightwing or Red Robin would have made more sense to me, based on what I know.”

“Yeah well, I do what I’m asked sometimes. But only sometimes.” Red-Hood fired a grappling gun and swung over towards the front of the Wayne building. Spider-Man followed with his webs.

“I guess that makes sense,” Spider-Man shrugged, “You have the symbol and everything. Just you don’t have the best rep in the world.”

“Yeah that's what happens when you kill people.” Red Hood casually mentioned.

“Yeah! Yeah I guess that’s true.” Peter squeaked, mind traveling back to just after the Mysterio incident. Mj…

“Don’t worry kid,” Red Hood laughed, “You haven’t done anything to deserve it. At least not that I’m aware of. Besides, to stay on Batman's good side I don’t kill as much. Grievous bodily harm is always on the table though.” He jumped down from this building and Spider-Man dropped after him.

Red Hood began looking around, the conversation stopped. Peter created a web-line and started messing on it as Red Hood kept investigating the alley. It took only a couple seconds for Peter to realise it was almost directly across from the entrance of the Wayne building.

“You having fun?” Red Hood turned his head to him from where he was squatting. Peter could sense the smile on his face.

“Yeah,” Spider-Man dropped on the line, feeling it bend. It started to snap back so Peter hopped back to his feet and regained his balance. “I’ve gotten pretty good at this. I don’t like sitting still.”

“You remind me of someone,” Red Hood chuckled then touched the side of his helmet, “Nothing here, Oracle, no traces or anything. Must have just been a jump… “Yeah I’ll still keep an eye out here… No, nothing weird has come up… Yeah I’ll touch back later.” Red Hood dropped into himself again.

“Everything okay?” Peter asked, sitting on the line looking down at Red Hood.

“Yeah just some business the big guy asked me to look at,” He stood and rolled his shoulders, “Wanna patrol with me? This night is gonna be boring and if I can brag that I got to spend it with the new Spider guy, Red Robin is gonna be jealous.”

Peter considered it for a moment. Getting on the good side of at least one Bat’s good side was probably a good move.

“Sure, I have nothing better to do.” So the two went up to the roofs and began the rounds of the Wayne building.

Akira crunched onto the ground and collapsed as his legs screamed at him. He heard Echo Skull and Mona hit the ground behind him and saw the now cracked golden clock rolling away from him.

“So, the little thieves are back…” Shadow James Ruthers hummed and stepped over Akira. He snapped his head to the man as he scooped up the clock and looked at his twisted and fractured reflection in the glass.

Akira pushed himself up to stand, scowling at Shadow James who laughed. “What are you? The next Batman? Get that scary look off your face.” Akira could hear the subtle tell of fear in his voice. His scowl turned to a smirk as dramatically flourished his dagger.

“Whatever, Bruce! Help me!” Shadow James turned, a blue mantle fluttering behind him, and clicked. A shuddering roar sounded from somewhere and barely a moment later Puppet Bruce descended from the ceiling.

Akira flipped back to avoid getting crushed by the puppet and slid into formation with the echos. Now that he had himself together he took in the room. It was a large ballroom, with ornate pillars running up the side in dark wood and gold coloured stone, becoming the arches of the vaulted ceiling. Red carpet covered the hard-wood floor and matched the fluttering curtains of the large open arched windows. Where was this? Probably one of the floors Akira ignored. Geometry was screwy in the Metaverse anyway.

Puppet Bruce exploded into slick black metaverse ooze and from it came a Shadow Akira had never seen before. The figure of a man in Victorian style clothing covered in chains. The Chained Associate.

Beside him Echo Mona called Zorro out, casting the wind skill Garu at the puppet. Wind whipped around the puppet and shook it, but it didn’t seem particularly harmful.

Akira reached into his mind and pulled out Satanael, air rippling as he snapped his wings open. “Ravage them!” Akira called as Eiha shot from the Persona, making contact but the Shadow barely flinched. Damn.

The Chained Associate moved and slapped Echo Mona, causing the cat to yowl and rear back. Akira felt his heart pull. He never liked his teammates getting hurt. The Shadow screamed as it moved back but it was met with Echo Skull connecting his lead pipe into its face causing it to stumble back further. Echo Mona followed up with his own sword and Akira called on Jack-O-Lantern and threw fire, which burnt the puppet and did extra damage. Akira followed up by calling for an All Out Attack as the Shadow collapsed.

Metal clashed and a couple gunshots rang out before the Thieves backed off from the puppet as it stood to retaliate. It shrieked and Akira felt ice chill his veins and he fell, Jack-O-Lantern yelled in his mind and the Chained Associate delivered a swift kick to Akira’s side causing him to sprawl out on the floor. As he collected himself and began to stand, Echo Skull brought his Captain Kidd out and electrocuted the Shadow who reeled back and stumbled falling over. Akira dashed forward with the Echos behind him and he slashed at it with his teammates following close behind. After a few attacks Akira stabbed into the Shadow, watching it dissolve.

Shadow James startled as Akira stood and looked at him and started running to the door. Sataneal burst from cerulean flame and flew to the large doors, blocking them. Shadow James backed up then turned to see the Thieves, then down at the clock.

“Fine! You want a fight, let’s fight!” He hefted the cracked clock above his head and in a brush of Metaversal energy transformed.

The Shadow twisted upwards, growing to stand 15 meters tall. The clock hung heavy around his neck on a golden chain sitting over the golden gorget. A golden crown sat on his head with diamonds encrusted into it. Metal arms scraped against themselves with blue strings coming from the tips, fading into the air. The blue mantle floated behind him covering his back like a shield. His suit was tearing off from his body revealing a golden body beneath. His face had twisted into the form of a rather nasty cat, long whiskers stood on end.

Akira threw his arm out to the side, jacket furling out behind him, a smirk on his face. He pulled out his pistol and levelled it in challenge, patented Joker Smirk on his face. He ignored the weird feeling in his mind when he called himself that and readied for the next part of this fight.

James Buné Ruthers moved first, casting his strings towards Akira who flipped out of the way and rolled. Echo Mona retaliated by striking out with his blade cutting deep into the Shadow’s leg who roared in pain due to a critical hit. The thieves pounced on the collapsed form and tore into it, but it wasn’t nearly enough as they were thrown off by him returning to his full stature.

Akira pulled Satanael out and flung a Curse attack at Shadow James Buné, causing him to stumble but regained himself quickly, as Akira began to think about his next attack Echo Skull used his Persona to Headbutt the Shadow much to the same effect.

“You’ll pay for that!” Shadow James Buné once again cast his strings out, this time he caught Echo Skull in them and was strung up like a puppet, Brainwashing him. With this success Shadow James himself snapped his fingers and Akira was struck by Lightning, it hurt but he stayed on his feet. He was vaguely aware that Mona had summoned Zorro beside him but his focus was on Skull.

He had to keep telling himself that these weren’t his real friends. That they were Echos. He still had to take care of them and their health so they didn’t fall, but he wasn’t looking at Ryuji strung up. He was safe, at home. He was okay. He still had the protective urge that he usually had. Should he embrace it? He was conflicted.

Wind rushed through the room and James fell, but Akira wasn’t interested in attacking him, he wanted to get Skull down.

He turned to Echo Mona and jerked his head towards the other, a suggestion of priority. He nodded and dashed forward, leaping upwards and slashing at the strings as Akira pulled out his pistol and shot at Ruthers. Two of the five strings severed and Shadow James retracted back as Akira emptied the magazine. Echo Skull lashed out at Mona with his lead pipe which the not-cat dodged.

Shadow James Buné hissed at the thieves and jerked his hands, causing Echo Skull to move towards Akira. The metal pipe crashed into his left cheek, he felt teeth chip and crack along side his cheekbone. Akira rolled with the momentum of the blow and hit his knees. Satanael erupted into space and cut the remaining three strings and disappeared again as Akira got to his feet. The Echo of Skull was no longer brainwashed and the Thieves returned to their formation.

“Keep up, kids!” Shadow James Buné screamed and threw his hands out and lightning crackled all around the thieves, which Skul shrugged off, Akiramanaged to stay against, and Mona to fall. Lighting weakness. He had forgotten. Shadow James then rushed Akira with his claws out. The thief slid under the attack. High Pixie was called to his side and healing magic danced around the party. His teeth got fixed and his cheekbone had begun to knit itself together. Mona looked better but was still on the floor. Echo Skull used his Persona to physically attack the Shadow again and Akira used his third eye.

They needed to get the Treasure off him, but the chain it was on proved a problem. His third eye didn’t find anything and he let out a growl of frustration. He had to get a better look at this guy…

Batman landed on the back patio of the safe house. It was one on the edge of the city, in a block made up of mostly tenement housing. It was quiet, no neighbors either side. He knocked on the back door and Batgirl answered.

“Took you long enough,” She mumbled.

“Sorry, turns out these guys are slippery,” Batman sighed, “Took hours to turn up nothing.”

Batgirl nodded. Robin came into view and marched up to his old man.

“That’s a shame father,” He said, “Do you think this could be their first time trying this?”

“Yes, I do. At least for the time being. We have nothing so far.”

The two younger Bats nodded. Robin squinted before turning to face the front of the house.

“We put James upstairs, he’s been annoyed the whole time. I hope seeing you will help put him at ease.”

Batman let out an amused breath, “Not after I start questioning him. Batgirl, get home and rest. You’ve been out nearly 24 hours. I want you to take care of yourself.” She moved to protest but Batman put his hand up. “At least get back and eat something. Take a nap. If you feel refreshed after that you can go patrol, but if you get stopped by the Butler, listen to him.”

Batgirl nodded stiffly. It was clear she wanted to be here watching over James, but Batman was hearing none of it.

She grappled up and away, disappearing in the dark night sky. Batman entered the house, greeted by light brown carpet and yellow walls running through the house. There were only lamps on casting the place in dim lighting. With Robin behind him Batman went up the hardwood stairs and onto the second floor. Robin pointed to a room facing the backyard and they entered.

James Ruthers had abandoned his suit jacket at the end of the bed. He sat on a chair in the corner. A half drank glass of water sat on the dresser beside him. He sat with his head in his hands.

“I took his phone and turned it off. It’s currently in one of the other safe houses.” Robin whispered in Batman’s ear. Batman nodded and pointed to the corner. Robin went and stood menacingly while Batman approached James.

“James?” He bat-growled, “Are you okay?”

“Don’t even start with me,” James hissed, leg bouncing, “We have no clue what is going on, obviously. If you knew who did this you wouldn’t be here. What do you want?”

Batman was taken aback for a second. “I just want to know if you have any idea what this is about and who could have threatened you.”

“That fucking Drake kid. Tim. Whatever.” James spat. “One of Bruce’s wards. He’s never liked me. The second he came into that fucking building for the first time with him he hated me. Trying to psych me out or something probably.”

“That’s one lead,” Batman huffed, “Is there anyone else?”

“I don’t know! Whoever is pissed at Bruce now-a-days probably. People hate the way he runs the company. Proves too much good. Kord was after his ass for a while until they weren’t. Maybe some of the people our company is partnered with. I keep the money flowing, I don’t deal with the outside company politics that Bruce’s job. It’s the only thing that man is good at.”

Batman swallowed. He had never seen James like this. The whole room shook with the bouncing of his leg. Bruce had gotten used to it when Dick had moved in.

“I see. I’ll look into it then. Robin, keep an eye out for our friend here while I make some calls.” Robin silently nodded and took one of his blades out from his back and began checking it as Batman left the room. He touched in with all of his kids. Nothing on Nightwing’s end, nothing from Red Hood either. Red Robin had simply said “Busy” while fight sounds happened around him. Spoiler was heading Red Robin’s way and the others were at home. Something wasn’t right.

“You insolent brats!” Shadow James Buné shouted, “You will never prove what I’ve done! My operation is far too large!” THe fight had been going on for a while now and Akira was getting sick of it.

“Shut up,” Akira sighed before rushing him with his dagger out. He slid under Ruther’s legs and looked up for the back of the chain, seeing a dainty clasp. Still, he had to figure out how to deal with the mantle that covered it. He rolled around to his front and slashed the back of his knee, causing Ruthers to fall. The other two thieves came into an All Out Attack. As Mona and Akira pulled out from the fight Echo Skull remained, calling on his Persona to deal a bit of extra physical damage while he returned.

Shadow Ruthers was not in good shape, but the fight was nowhere near over, unless they could get the clock. With only three of them it would prove problematic… He couldn’t send one of them away to try and get it off. His Persona’s were riled up which was making it hard to think over the din of bloodlust.

The Shadow screamed and threw his hands up towards the ceiling, strings disappearing into cracks. They were gone only for a moment before two worker puppets were dragged into the fight, they hung limply despite the tight grasp Ruthers had on the strings.

Akira was the first to move in response, he moved to cut at the strings of one of the puppets but was met with a kick into his ribs, knocking the wind out of him. At almost the same time Echo Mona used Zorro to attack with wind. As Akira stumbled back he watched the mantle get flung about by the wind as he got downed An idea seeded itself in his mind while he retreated from the electric attack’s blast radius from Echo Skull.

The puppets stood strong against both attacks which pissed Akira off.

One of the puppets twitched before erupting towards Echo Mona, grappling him. The other moved close behind and laid a few blows on the not-cat. They dropped him on the ground before returning to the front of their master. All was quiet for a moment as Echo Mona and Ruthers got back on their feet.

Ruthers was quick to move, delivering a series of rage filled and painful blows to Akira, he could barely stay on his feet after, close to fading out of consciousness.

“Mona!” Akira called, turning his head to face the Echo, “Try and push the mantle off his back, Skull! Deal with the puppets!” The Echos nodded. Skull dashed in, lead pipe in hand and Captain Kidd at his back. Mona on the other hand stayed where he was and channeled wind through Zorro, knocking the Shadow down again, but the relentless gale kept up and after a few seconds the blue fabric of the mantel flew away, pinned to the back wall. Skull, alongside his Persona wailed on the puppets, mangleing them beyond recognition. Akira shook his head and grounded himself, running towards Ruthers and calling Satanael who beat his wings and gave Akira the boost he needed. Above Ruthers he looked down and saw the large clasp that held the clock and spun his body, flipping in the air with his dagger in front of him. Metal clashed with metal, and the clock crashed to the ground.

He crashed into the ground and rolled away, blacking out for a second before he focused. The clasp was broken and the clock rolled away. Shadow James screamed in rage and reached for the clock but Skull was quick to knock it away. Fear surged as the Shadow rounded on Akira, dropping to his hands and knees crawling towards him. Satanael returned and flared his six wings, causing a breeze to kick up.

“You bastard!” James Bune Ruthers shrieked, “Tim put you up to this, didn’t he? That fucking brat! Bruce should have never taken him in. He should have been left to rot in his parent’s mansion!”

“I have no such connection!” Akira shouted, “I found you all on my own.”

“Liar!” Ruthers slammed his fist down and Satanael pulled Akira out of the way.

“You got sloppy,” Akira taunted, staggering to his feet, “And I figured you out. Only a matter of time before someone else did. Like the Bat”

All he got in return was a violent shout and another fist being swung at him but Satanael’s wing rushed to parry it. Akira’s pistol was heavy in his hand as he pulled it up. He noticed the Echo’s doing the same with their ranged weapons.

Pistol rounds, shotgun shells and slingshot pellets hailed into the Shadow, by the time it subsided the Shadow was on his last legs. Akira ordered Satanael to Cleave him, returning the Shadow to his regular form.

“Please don’t kill me!” Shadow James cried, “I don’t want to die! Please, I don't want to die!”

“I won’t kill you,” Joker spat, Satanael’s cerulean ashes floating around him as he stalked up to the cowering man. “So long as you return to yourself, and confess to all wrong doing. Because you have done wrong.” Joker wasn’t quite sure why he held the gun to the man’s head. It was empty. Something felt wrong.

“Yes,” Ruthers stuttered breathlessly, “I will go back. I’ve done so much wrong.” He collapsed into himself. “I took advantage of Bruce’s trust. What would my parents think?” Joker watched the clock shrink, becoming the size of a pocket watch.

“Go, now.” Joker ordered, then somewhere behind him he heard a laugh and turned to find the source. No one was there. No. It wasn’t behind him. Something was trying to get to him in the back of his mind…

He turned back to see the now crying Shadow beginning to fade. Akira swore and ran to grab the Treasure, feeling whatever it was in the back of his mind retreat. He scooped it up and called Echo Skull back to him, catching the card before it burst into blue flame. He turned to Mona who was already in his bus form. The Palace shook and Akira nearly passed out getting into Mona. He slammed on the accelerator and called High Pixie to his side to heal himself as best he could before he left the Palace, but he was low on stamina.

The Mona-Bus leapt through one of the large ornate windows, landing roughly in the courtyard. Akira held on for dear life as they changed through the metal gates and out the otherside. Before he knew it he was returning to the real world.

Akira was laid out, huffing in the alley, in pain and out of breath. He didn’t want to stay too long so he forced himself to start making his way home. He checked his pocket and found a tarnished pocket watch which he decided to investigate later. But the heist was successful. Thankfully.

Batman was looking out one of the front windows when Robin called out. He rushed into the room and saw Ruthers passed out in the chair.

“What happened?” Batman asked, kneeling down and checking Ruthers over.

“I’m not sure,” Robin muttered, face scrunched, “He turned to me, said “I’m tired” then he passed out. No one touched him. I was watching the whole time rom the cornor.”

Batman let out a harsh breath then touched his communicator. “Everyone, we’ve had James pass out here.”

“He was sitting, looking at the card from the Thieves, then announced he was tried. He slumped hardly a second later.” Robin’s voice chimed.

“Are you shitting me?” Red Hood jumped, “There’s gotta be a reason for that.”

“Are you seeing anything B?” Nightwing asked.

“No,” Batman sighed, “Pulse is normal, breathing is steady, anything else would be too hard to tell without testing.”

“Do you want to run tests?” Oracle’s voice was level, considered.

“Won’t be necessary, he’s been stressed since the cards came. His body finally gave out on him. We’ll keep an eye on him. If something happens I have enough aid on me to keep him steady until we can get help.”

“What do you want from us, B?” Red Robin whispered.

“Keep to your tasks, we still haven’t seen these Thieves, don’t let them sneak by us.”

Affirmatives were passed around before silence fell on the line. Batman hefted James up and laid him down on the bed. Gotham was silent.

“So like, how are you sticking to that wall right now?” Red Hood asked, looking at Spider-Man who was currently halfway up the wall of a building looking around.

“I’m called Spider-Man for a reason,” He laughed, “Besides, a magician never reveals his secrets.”

Red Hood rolled his whole head, “If you don’t want to tell me I get it. The bats getting a hand on wall-crawling technology would be disastrous to whatever brand you’re establishing.”

The Spider laughed, “Honestly I’m not sure how I do it,” He shrugged and hopped off the wall, landing next to Red Hood, “One day I was a normal kid, then I got bit by a radioactive spider, now I can stick to walls.”

“Seriously? Bit by a radioactive spider?” Red Hood suppressed a laugh, “That’s your origin story.”

“Well there's a bit more to it than that!” Spider-man whined, going to perch on this building’s ledge, “I just don’t know you like that.”

“Yeah okay, and what else can you do?” Red Hood couldn’t help being curious.

The lenses on Spider-Man’s eye closed in, “Stick to stuff, accelerated healing, Spider-Senses, that’s the major stuff.”

“Spider-Senses? Is that actually what you call it?”

“I mean that’s what it is. Some spiders can sense danger before it actually gets to them. I can dodge bullets because of it.”

Red Hood raised his eyebrows behind the mask, “You know that for a fact?”

“Yeah, I do. If you really want to test it…” He pointed to the pistol holster. “Scare the hell out of the cops down there.”

Red Hood shook his head, “No because if I actually hit you I won’t hear the end of it from any of the others. “Why did you believe him?” “You shot the Spider?” “Idiot” ect. Ect.”

Spider-Man shrugged and stood up, dropping around to stick to the side of the building, looking up at Red Hood.

“Then you’ll just have to take my word for it.” Red Hood could hear the smug smile in the guy’s voice. He had heard it from Dick many times over the years. That was when the news of Ruther’s passing out came through. Spider-Man paced the edge of the building, watching the cops below just as much as the building. By the time the conversation stopped he was all the way on the other side of it npt looking at the other man.

After a few moments of peaceful silence, Red Hood let his curiosity get the better of him. He pulled out a Batarang and threw it at the guy, aiming for his shoulder. Like nothing he leapt off the side of the building, dodging the flying object, then pulled himself back to the wall with his webs.

“You believe me now?” Spider-Man chuckled. He walked back over and came to sit next to Red Hood. “Hope that wasn’t expensive or anything.”

“Nah, I steal them from B all the time and he doesn’t notice. Or if he does he doesn’t say anything. He has so many. If you stick around Gotham long enough you can just find them lying around. People sell them online to out-of-towners.”

“Pft, no shit.” Spider-Man laughed. He touched his hand to his side and pulled a phone out from… Somewhere…? Red Hood hadn’t seen any visible pockets. As he investigated that, Spider-Man answered a message then scrolled a bit on social media.

“Do you seriously think we have time for that?” Red Hood sneered, he knew this kid was new but, c’mon.

“I wouldn’t if I was on my own,” He shrugged, “But you’re here to keep an eye out on the outside world so I can check to see if anyone has seen or found anything. But really I’m just seeing pictures of Spoiler fighting some guys outside a Big Belly Burger.”

“Not out of character for her, wonder what set her off.” Red Hood lent over and saw an image of Steph throwing a guy through a window.

“I mean it’s kind of impressive in a “I could find nothing better to do tonight” kind of way.” Spider-Man put his phone back in whatever space he got it out from and looked back out over the city. It was like Gotham itself was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen. And Red Hood wanted to see for himself.

Akira collapsed through the front door with a bag of Bat Burger with him. His side still hurt, his cheek was bruising, he had a small limp and was just overall exhausted, but proud of a heist well won. He didn’t bother turning the overhead light on.

He chucked the bag onto the coffee table and collapsed into the couch, he found a random movie on a TV channel and pulled the treasure out of his pocket.

It was a brass pocket watch, the closed lid was engraved with an intricate rose design. His hand brushed on some more engraving on the back and he flipped it over in his hands. Cursive text that was hard for him to make out. He used his phone’s flashlight to try and get a better look at it but the text he initially thought was worn had been sanded down. He felt his body scream at him as he tried to get up and find paper so he collapsed back down. A job for tomorrow, then.

Akira had barely finished dinner when he drifted off to sleep on the couch.

It was 4am by the time Peter dragged himself into the apartment. It was all too quiet. Nothing happened. Red Hood didn’t pick anything else up. The TV was still on and Akira was asleep. A purple bruise was growing on his right cheek. Peter turned the TV off, with significantly less light in the room Peter carefully walked over to his bed and changed into a more comfortable pair of pants. Slept eluded him that night, and he was awake long after the sun came up…

Chapter Text

The sounds of metal clinking gently filled stagnant air. An unusual silence plagued the Velvet Room as Akira sat up from his bed. No pianist or vocalist were playing, and the dreadful silence of the void seeped in. Igor stood in front of his desk, Lavenza nor any other attendant were seen.

“Trickster,” Igor mused, “It’s good to see you, in this tumultuous time.”

“What’s going on, Igor?” Akira asked, pressing himself against the bars of his closed cell. The ever present smile on the old man’s face portrayed a subtle weariness. His eyes were tired.

“There have been some unprecedented changes in the cognitive space, which required our immediate attention.” Igor turned his head and looked out into the hall opening behind him. “The attendants are currently seeing to it, Nameless, our pianist and Belladonna, our vocalist, are currently tending to their own business. It’s been a long time since this place has been truly silent as it is now.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Akira asked.

“Congratulations on conquering our first Palace in this world, Trickster,” Igor laughed, “I believe the news of Ruthers’ change of heart will aid in our situation, and should grant you some ability to help. But in the meantime it is up to us humble Velvet Room residents to deal with it here.”

“I can’t sit by and watch,” Akira shook his head, “If I can help now tell me how.”

“Trickster,” Igor sighed, dropping his head, “There’s nothing you can do right now. And I don’t have the authority to tell you how to help anyway. I am not the true master of the Velvet Room, there is one above me, but they have not been active in a long while. Their recent presence means I cannot order you to help. But you should meet them soon.”

“You get orders from someone else? I thought this was your place.”

“No,” Igor’s eyes drifted to his desk as he spoke, “It’s my job to ensure our residents' safety, and until the Phantom Thieves are established in this world you are weakened. As it stands the attendants and myself are our line of defence. Lavenza and her fellows should not be underestimated. They may not be as powerful as a fully realised Wild Card, but they hold up. Let us worry about this for now.”

Akira went to protest, but the bell signaling his imminent return to reality rang out.

“Congratulations again, Trickster,” Igor brightened, “May your other ventures be as fruitful, you have the Velvet Room’s full support.”

“Igor, Wait!” Akira shot up from the couch and immediately regretted it, his ribs screamed in protest. He lent over and hissed in pain, grabbing his side.

“Akira?” Peter called, throwing his blankets off and rushing to his side. His face was full of concern and Akira idly wondered how much like shit he looked.

“It’s okay,” Akira turned to face Peter with a smile, noticing the dark circles under his eyes, “Did you even sleep last night?”

“I, uh,” Peter backed up, “Not really. I was worried about the whole James Ruthers thing, and you. That bruise looks serious, man.”

Akira waved his hand “It’ll clear up, got jumped by some thugs last night but I got away before they took anything. Besides, I'm a fast healer.”

“You are not leaving the house today,” Peter announced, jumping to his feet and striding to the freezer. He pulled out a frozen vegetable packet and tossed it to the couch. Akira picked it up and placed it on his still sore face, it prickled unpleasantly.

“If you’re over there,” Akira sighed, tilting his head to hold the packet with his shoulder, “Can you get me a pen and paper?”

“Uh, sure,” Peter located the objects and handed them to Akira, who placed them on the coffee table.

Akira was still exhausted from the Palace yesterday, and leaving while he was still injured was never fun. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and took some cash out, presenting it to Peter.

“I do not feel like making coffee today, would you be able to go to Cafe Helios and get some? Maybe some breakfast as well? Tell them you’re my roommate and they’ll be nice.” Peter took the money from Akira’s hand.

“I’ll go do that,” Peter nodded, “Be back soon, be safe!”

“I will,” Akira laughed and waved as Peter rushed out the door. He huffed and pulled the pocket watch out of his pocket, then looked at the pen and paper. He hoped this would work.

Peter pulled the location up on his phone. It was 9:26 as he lightly jogged down the street towards his goal. A thought nagged in his brain that Akira was lying about how he got his injuries, but he wasn’t sure.

He almost missed it as he stared at the map on his phone, but he was quick to correct himself and he pushed into the building. Akira had messaged him with his order when Peter remembered to ask halfway down their street.

Cafe Helios was Akira’s place of work, he hadn’t ever actually brought the name up when he spoke about it, but Peter didn’t mind. It was a medium sized cafe, with the counter directly across from the entrance, and seating to the right. Booths were constructed against the large front window. Soft lighting illuminated the place, and yellow fairy lights traced most of the walls. There was a partisan wall separating the counter and ordering space from the seating area. There was a bulletin board hung up alongside a TV playing the news.

“Hello,” A woman’s voice chimed, “What can I do for you today?” There was a woman with silver hair standing at the counter. Deep lines etched her face making her sparkling green eyes stand out, containing youthful vibrance. She had an apron on and her hair was done up in a bun. A small silver crucifix hung off her neck.

“Uh yeah, hi, I’m Peter,” He waved curtly, “I’m Akira’s roommate, he sent me to get coffee and stuff.”

“Akira’s roommate! He has mentioned you before,” The woman smiled, “How wonderful! It’s nice to meet you, I’m Elanor. I own and run this place with my husband. I make the coffee, he makes the food. You’re welcome anytime, Peter.”

“Thanks ma’am,” Peter smiled, he relaxed a little and went up to the counter, “I’ve got Akira’s order right here on my phone, if you’re all good to take it…”

Elanor smiled and pulled a notepad out of her apron pocket, “Shoot.”

A latte for Akira, a cappuccino for Peter, a breakfast sandwich for Akira and two ham and cheese croissants for Peter. He pocketed his phone and Elanor nodded, and money got exchanged. She started on the coffee and Peter started looking at the bulletin boards. A lot of posters advertising local events and shows, in addition to Gotham safety tips which Peter tried to memorise.

“Why didn’t Akira come with you?” Elanor asked, “Would have been easier, and he’s always a welcome face.”

“Ah well y’know,” Peter shrugged, voice jumping an octave “We had a late night last night, and he wasn’t ready to get out of bed just yet.”

“I only just met you and I can tell you're lying,” Elanor smirked, “What’s going on?”

Peter sighed and took a second to find the words, the place was empty aside from him anyway. “He said he got jumped last night. Thugs. He looked rough when I got home. Big bruise on his face. He could barely move without flinching when he woke up.”

Elanor silently worked the coffee machine and Peter worried if he said something wrong. Looking at her face Peter could tell she was rolling something around in her mind.

“Tell him he doesn’t need to come into work tomorrow or Saturday,” She eventually said, “He sounds rough. I’ll let him rest a bit.”

Peter had seen him hurt a few times, but never this bad. Things that could be blamed on workouts, but getting hurt this bad? He didn’t use his communicator either. Maybe Peter would have to check on him, just to make sure he wasn’t doing anything bad.

“Make sure he takes care of himself? He’s a good kid. I don’t want him getting hurt.” Elanor handed Peter the two drinks in a cup tray and two bags with the food.

“I will,” Peter smiled and took his order, “Thanks, miss Elanor!”

“Not a problem, Peter.” Elanor smiled as he left. A part of her was glad to know that the fabled roommate was a genuine and sweet, if awkward, guy.

Peter was able to navigate himself back to the apartment and knocked before he entered. He had been gone all of twenty minutes, but AKira had made a nest for himself on the couch. His pillows were gathered on the left side, and his blanket was brought with, covering his legs. He had changed into his regular pajamas based on the black shirt he was wearing. Glasses abandoned on the coffee table. The paper was gone.

“Coffee, sir?” Peter smiled and placed Akira’s food in front of him. He smiled up at his arachnid friend and moved his legs in so he could sit down after he took his shoes off.

“Thank you,” Akira smiled and reached over, flinching, then rested his breakfast on the arm of the couch. Draping himself behind it. The TV was on and a news snippet was playing in the ad break.

“After the scare last night, it has been reported that James Ruthers has not come into work this morning. Some say he’s called off work for the rest of the week. No word has officially come out from Wayne Enterprises on the matter.”

A small smile tugged at Akira’s lips as he fidgeted with his hands. Peter questioned him on it.

“I just don’t really like the elites of society,” Akira admitted, “People like Ruthers, Wayne, most of them, really. I got arrested back in Japan when I was 15 for pulling one of them off a woman he was harassing. The drunk bastard stumbled backwards and cut his face when he fell then blamed it on me. Charged me for assault. I got probation for a year and shipped off to Tokyo for my second year of high school. In some ways he ruined my life, but it was also one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

“How so?” Peter asked with a mouthful of croissant.

“I wouldn’t have met my best friends, or come here, if not for him.” Akira smiled. “I still hate what he did. My reputation at home was ruined, and the news broke at my new school faster than anything. I was a social outcast. But I found my place with the other outcasts. Now I’m here. Honestly I think I needed some time away from Japan.”

“So you have a criminal record?” Peter raised his eyebrows at him, trying not to sound too judgmental.

“Not anymore,” Akira shrugged, “Guy ended up admitting to rigging the case and blackmailing the woman to falsely testify almost a year later. Along with a bunch of other crimes. No one’s sure why he had a sudden change of heart.”

“That sucks, I’m so sorry.” Peter frowned.

“I’m okay now,” Akira assured, taking a sip of his coffee, “It still hurts, but I ended up in a better place. Guy’s in jail now so who really won?”

Peter laughed and nearly choked on his food, coughing as he centred himself.

“That’s a pretty good reason to not like the upper class,” He shrugged, “In addition to all of the social injustice and stuff.”

Akira nodded firmly, “Absolutely. That’s the reason I hate the cops too. Not like they were very nice to me when I got brought in.”

Peter looked at Akira. The weight of all he went through hung on his words and despite his steady heart rate it was clear in his eyes he was reliving not very pleasant memories. Peter placed his hand on his knee and smiled.

“I’m here for you, man,” Peter smiled, “No matter what. I promise.”

Doubt clouded Akira’s silver eyes as he patted Peter’s hand, “Thank you.”

They stayed like that for a moment, it looked like Akira wanted to say something but instead he turned to the TV and watched the procedural that was playing. Without his glasses Akira’s expressions were easier to read. He was lost in thought, a slight furrow on his brow and a tautness in his mouth. Peter wished mind reading came with his spider-powers.

Peter scanned the coffee table as he ate, then decided he should ask, “What did you do with the paper?”

Akira raised his eyebrows, looking like a deer caught in headlights, “Oh yeah, I just had a weird dream last night and wanted to write some stuff down. I stashed it away in my drawer when I got up.”

Peter shrugged, “You woke up pretty suddenly from it huh?”

Akira blushed slightly, “Yeah. Did I wake you because fo it?”

“No, I didn’t sleep last night.”

“Explains the raccoon eyes,” Akira smiled, “Although you remind me more of a tanuki than a raccoon.”

“What’s really the difference?” Peter laughed.

“Dog energy vs cat energy.”

“Seriously?” Peter questioned, and Akira just nodded his head.

A moment of silence passed as Akira reached for his sandwich slowly, trying not to anger his ribs as he brought it to his mouth to eat.

“I had a bad experience with the cops not too long ago,” Peter sighed, “A fabricated video of me was getting around, similar crime I suppose, I had to get a really good lawyer to get me off. Nice guy, did it cheaper than his usual rate.”

Akira frowned and swallowed. “That sucks. Fake video as well?. Must have been a really good lawyer.”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded, “It was kind of funny, he was blind. Ensuring the correct verdict. “Justice is blind” must be his life motto.” He laughed.

“I bet if you look up his birthday he’s a libra,” Akira smirked, “Really fill out the justice thing.”

Peter shook his head while smiling, “Genuinely would not surprise me.”

Comfortable silence settled between the two as they watched TV. A quiet day at home was certainly in order. Even if all Peter wanted to do was track down one of the Bats, preferably Red Hood, and get the rundown on the current Ruthers situation.

“You seriously met up with that new Spider-Man guy last night?” Tim all but shouted over the counter at Jason. His mouth hung open in shock and Bruce massaged his head to alleviate the growing headache he was developing.

“Yes I did,” Jason said smugly, “And he was a really cool guy. He’s got a danger sense type thing, said he can dodge bullets but that has yet to be proven.”

“At least you didn’t shoot him to test it,” Dick sighed, “Right?”

“I didn’t shoot him. I threw a batarang at him.”

“I like it better when you aren’t in the manor,” Damien sneered, “Means I don’t have to listen to this drivel over breakfast.”

“Maybe you should have gone to school today then,” Jason smirked, “Then you wouldn't have had to. Same goes for you, Timmy.”

“If it was not for the fact that I only got to bed at 6am,” Damien spat, “I would have.”

“I have been awake all night,” Tim sighed, “And I will have to stay awake if I want to go to school tomorrow. My attendance is already teetering on the edge of acceptable.”

“Why are you even here, Jason,” Dick sighed, “You said you hated the manor.”

Jason couldn’t let them know he was growing to enjoy spending time here again, so he lied. “I like bothering you guys, and that’s enough for me for now.”

“So, did he dodge the batarang?” Bruce cut in.

“He did,” Jason nodded, “I couldn’t even see the front of his mask when I threw it. There was no way he could have seen me.”

“Tracks with a few of the statements we have from some of the criminals,” Tim rambled, “Dodging punches thrown at him from behind like it was nothing. Pulling guys out of hiding places they were sure he couldn’t have figured out… An enhanced individual who uses his powers to fight crime. At least he’s on our side.”

“For now,” Bruce said, “Hopefully for good. But we have to be careful. We don’t know him.”

“He sounds pretty strong,” Dick shrugged, “Have fun with him, I’m heading back to Bludhaven for a while today.”

“Successful crime rates going back up again?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah,” Dick sighed, “It’s a real balancing act, here and there. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“You can always call us for help, you know?” Bruce assured him.

“I know,” Dick shrugged, “But I’ve got it.”

“Well,” Tim stood from the table and took his empty plate up with him, “I’m going down to the bat-cave, going to go over the reports from last night as well as any interesting footage. Call me if you need me.” And with that TIm turned on his heel and dropped his plate in the kitchen for Alfred.

The others ate their breakfast in silence and brought their plates to the kitchen together.

“Any update on Mr. Ruthers, Master Bruce?” Alfred asked over his shoulder as he checked on something pastry smelling in the oven. Bruce sorted through his brain for a second, making sure he had all the info. He had already told it to Tim, but everyone else needed to be caught up.

“Apparently he’s bed-bound” He started, “His wife called after I dropped him home as Batman this morning to let me know. He’s not running any temperature or anything, but he refuses to leave bed, saying he is not ready to face anything yet or something. He called his assistant to say he’s not going to be at work for a while. Not sure how long.”

“Whatever happened last night messed him up,” Dick frowned.

“Tim’s checking to see if we missed anything now,” Bruce furrowed his eyebrows, he was tired. And the lack of any real incidents the previous night set him on edge. Stephanie also didn’t come back to the manor last night and it was bothering him. They had word from her that she was safe, but that was it.

“What’s on your mind, B?” Dick leant over the island counter, a tightness in his shoulder that was new.

“A lot, chum,” Bruce sighed as he dropped into one of the barstools. He rolled his neck in a vain attempt to stretch it, “Mostly your shoulder right now.”

“Ah it’s nothing,” Dick waved his hand dismissively, “While it was early I practiced some old moves I haven’t used a lot recently. Twinged my arm coming out of one. It’s fine.”

Bruce nodded, “Other than that, I was thinking that I should go check up on James later today. I have a couple meetings scheduled after midday that I need to get to the building for, and then I’ll go talk to him.”

“Sounds good.” Dick shrugged and left the kitchen making towards the gym.

“What Dick said,” Jason stated then swiftly left as well.

“Give him the family’s best wishes, Master Bruce,” Alfred smiled, “You can take some of my frozen cooking and drop it off. Alleviate some of the stress from the family.”

“Great idea, Alfred,” Bruce smiled, “I need to freshen up and get dressed for work.”

TIm found nothing. Not from any of the security cameras they had in and around the building, before or after Ruthers passing out. Nothing. Bruce’s initial hypothesis must have been right but Tim couldn’t let it go.

Tim had read and re-read what he now realised was a real calling card. A genuine calling card from a real group of thieves. But what did they take? His heart was still in its proper place. Maybe something metaphorical. An object that meant a lot to him sentimentally? It would explain his behaviour after he woke up. But what?

He had checked the man’s phone as well, Bruce having bugged it while he had the chance. Nothing too unusual there, just messages from family and friends, and normal business stuff. Although TIm supposed if he was doing anything illegal he would be smart enough to do it off a different device he could get rid of at a moment’s notice.

No mysterious or threatening messages. He was checking around for any warehouses James owned and found that none of them reported being broken into last night. He was quickly running out of leads. Bruce said he was going to check James’ office while he was at the building today, so hopefully something was going to turn up, but he didn’t have much faith.

Nothing. Nothing was misplaced in Ruther’s office. Bruce had looked at everything. No dust out of place, no holes in the light covering. Everything was where it should be. He looked over everything twice. Thrice. Nothing. He left the room with a bad taste in his mouth. Something felt wrong.

That feeling continued as he drove to Ruther’s estate on the outer border of the city. He hoped his family was alright and that Ruthers had emerged from whatever state he had been in that morning.

He pulled his dark car up into the driveway. Alfred had asked if he wanted him to drive, but Bruce refused. He grabbed the frozen tupperware from the back seat and walked up to the door, before he even knocked the door was thrown open and James’ wife Elen threw herself against him.

“Oh thank goodness you’re here!” She cried, “Please, you have to talk some sense into my husband! He’s not come out all day!”

“Elen,” Bruce smiled, “I’ll see what I can do. Alfred did some extra cooking and wanted me to give this to you.” He handed the tupperware to Elen and she sobbed.

“Oh, your family is too nice, Bruce,” A fragile smile broke on her face, “I’m sure the kids will love it.”

“I’m sure they will,” He agreed, “Would you or one of your house keepers be able to take me to James?”

“I will,” Elen wiped tears from her eyes, putting a brave face on, “Whatever my husband is going through, he needs me. Come with me.”

The Ruthers mansion was very different to Wayne manor. An old building converted for more modern sensibilities, with white walls and pale wooden ornamentation. It kept the same style as the original building, much more similar to Wayne manor, but a few walls were knocked out to give it a more open floor plan. James enacted these changes when his parents moved away to retire.

Elen placed the tupperware in the freezer in their kitchen and kept walking, taking Bruce up a flight of stairs and to the master bedroom.

“Please, Bruce,” Elen whispered, “You;ve known him for so long, I’m sure you can help him.”

“Leave it to me,” He smiled, gripping Elen’s shoulders tight and squeezing them comfortably.

Elen nodded, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She opened the door and went in quietly.

“James, Bruce is here to see you.” She said softly. He was a sorry sight, covers twisted around him, curtains closed, messy short hair spread out from his head, a pillow clung tightly to his chest., a half finished glass of water sat on his bedside table and his back was turned on the door.

“Go away,” He muttered, “I can’t bear to see him.”

“Well, darling, he’s here!” Elen strained, “He wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Go away!” James shrieked. He shot up and threw the pillow he was clutching towards the door, missing and hitting the door frame. Elen flinched and Bruce launched forward to cradle her. He looked at the emptiness in James’ eyes.

“James,” Bruce scolded, “what has gotten into you?”

“Leave!” James yelled and then deflated into his first position. Curled up on the bed, looking tired. Elen closed the door and burst into tears, dragging Bruce down the hall and into a sitting room on the first floor.

“I’ve never seen him like this,” She sobbed, “He doesn’t want to talk to anyone… I thought it would be different with you…”

“I understand,” Bruce covered her in a hug, “He seems like a totally different person.”

They stayed there for a while, Elen crying as Bruce held her. Eventually it was time for the Ruthers kids to be home and Elen pulled herself together. Bruce said hi and the kids begged him to stay, but Bruce had to get home, so he said his goodbyes and Elen thanked him for coming and dropping food around. Bruce drove home, trying to untangle everything in his head.

Akira checked on the piece of paper he had folded and placed between the couch cushion and arm. He frowned and looked at Peter from the corner of his eye. He hadn’t known him for long at all, but his words rang in his ears, pushing away the bad memories trying to surface. I’m here for you, man, no matter what. I promise.

They had met all of two weeks ago, really. And yet Akira felt like he could tell him anything. Ryuji was like that. Chariots, maybe, are like that. But telling Peter he was the leader of the Phantom Thieves was ridiculous, right? Especially considering he was the only one in this world. He had to hold himself back from letting it spill out. To have at least one person know who he really was…

What he ended up getting from his paper investigation was also dragging on him. He had placed it onto the engraving and gotten to see the details better by lightly rubbing it with the pen. But he wasn’t sure what to make of what he found. “SR - JR” was what he made out of the cursive text, but when he tried to see if anyone in his life could have “SR” as their initials.

He once again glanced at Peter, who had brought his usual tinkering to the couch and not the table. The only few times either left the couch were to take care of needs, Peter had reheated some leftovers for lunch which Akira appreciated. His side ached, and Akira wondered if there was more serious damage under the surface that he didn’t get to in the metaverse.

It was quiet. Akira had been on his phone a lot between whatever came on TV and sporadic small conversation with Peter about it. The city was still on edge from the previous day and Akira couldn’t help but feel a small spur of pleasure in that.

“Once they know what you’re capable of,” Satanael chucked, “We shall be able to hunt in this world’s Mementos.”

“I look forward to it,” Akira mused, “I wonder what kinds of enemies we’ll encounter down there. Maybe some of the elites I couldn’t find Places for.”

“Something else is on your mind, Akira,” Satanael pressed.

“There's a lot there, right now,” Akira closed his search engine, still nothing helping him with James, “But right now it’s figuring out this watch.”

“No it’s not,” Satanael chided, “What is it really?”

“I’m alone,” Akira admitted, “It’s like when I first got to Tokyo. Even though I have confidants, I don’t feel truly connected to them. It feels like both Tim and Peter are hiding something, and with me also doing that there’s just a gap I can’t close.”

“Akira, as your other self I encourage you to find your truth. What is that? What does it look like in this world? Think about it. The mystery of the watch and James’ condition can wait.”

Akira didn’t respond, he knew Satanael was right. He had to actually think about his place here. That laugh that echoed in his head yesterday bothered him too. But he wasn’t sure why.

Peter asked Akira what to do for dinner, as Akira was in no state to be up and cooking. They decided to order something, Indian, from a local place. After they ate Peter got up to go do his late night duties. Akira was still unsure how truthful Peter was being about that whole thing, but he wasn’t going to bring it up.

He brought out the watch, quietly turning it over in his hands. A while after Peter left a news broadcast flipped on, discussing the Gotham villain “Joker”. Akira jolted, agitating his injuries. The villain Joker was one of the most infamous villains in this city. A force of chaos that no one understood. Akira felt disgusted. A man carrying his code name, the name his companions gave him, was a villain in this world.

He scrambled to look further into this. He found a clip of him laughing. That same laugh that he heard. Only when he thought of himself as Joker. Only then. The cognition of this world latched onto it, dragging him towards its view of the name. To make him fit. Akira decided he needed a nap before he did anything else.

“Dropping in!” Spider-Man shouted as he dropped onto a guy in a hoodie standing in a skate bowl. There were seven guys, five had guns that he could see, one of which he landed on. He had seen some cash changing hands and four bags full of cocaine.

“Seriously, if you’re gonna deal coke, do it with more cover around.” He said before leaping off the guy he landed on.

“It’s that new Spider guy!” One of them shouted, “Light him up!” He and his friends pulled their guns and opened fire, Spider-Man trusted his senses to get out of the line of fire, then he pulled himself into melee range with his webs, planting a kick into one’s chest. He then jumped on one of the other ones and dropped him.

Someone else jumped into the frey, Spider-Man couldn’t quite track the dark blur that moved behind him, but he didn’t mind. He jumped into a handspring and knocked the jaw of one of the dealers and webbed him to the ground. The new person punched someone behind him and Spider-Man webbed him without looking.

His senses went off and Spider-Man lept out of the way of gun fire coming behind him, and kept moving until he could get close and get him. He saw Red Hood fighting two of the guys at once. Spider-Man’s fist collided at high speed with the guy who shot at him and webbed him to the curved part of the bowl.

Red Hood had moved onto one of the other guys and his two previous opponents were on the ground, Spider-Man flipped over and webbed them. He pulled the two unarmed guys who were trying to flee towards him and webbed them together. He ran over and drop kicked the guy that was trying to sneak up on Red Hood as he flipped the guy he was fighting over his shoulder. Both were swiftly webbed.

“Police are on the way, let’s get out of here.” Red Hood said and used his grappling hook to get out. Spider-Man followed after him up onto a nearby roof.

“You really can dodge gunshots, huh?” Red Hood laughed, “That’s pretty cool.”

“It’s saved my life far more than I’m willing to admit, “ Spider-Man laughed, “Makes life a lot easier doing this.”

“Coke dealers,” Red Hood shook his head, “Never get smarter.”

“Yeah well cocaine does that to you,” Spider-Man shrugged, dropping to sit on the edge of the building.

“Want a Gotham tip?” Red Hood said as he sat next to him, “Be helpful, be kind, and be good. Batman isn’t quick to warm up and trust people. Show him you’re not a threat and he’ll start treating you with respect. Keep your head down as a civilian, you don’t want to get dragged into anything you don’t want to be dragged into.”

“So, just keep doing what I’m doing?” Spider-Man brought his shoulders to his ears, “Sounds easy enough.” He dropped his shoulders.

“He’s interested in you, y’know?” Red Hood faced his head towards him, “Curious as to what you can do and what you’ll be for the city. You're lucky he hasn’t come down from high to scold you and make you stop doing this.”

“He done that before?” Spider-Man smirked.

“Oh yeah,” A smile crept into Red Hood's voice, “I mean we all do, Gotham is a dangerous place. But I think you can see that.”

Spider-Man nodded and then turned to look back out on the city. He rolled back to lay down, kicking his legs absently over the edge. The red toned sky hid the stars behind thick rolls of clouds and light pollution. A soft wind gently blew through the streets humming a dissonant tune. No matter where you went in the city it was like that. It was starting to grow on Peter, in a fucked up and bad way.

The two sat quietly before Spider-Man broke the silence, “Any news on Ruthers?”

“Not really,” Red Hood sighed, “Most I got from B was that he’s taken some time off and hasn’t left his room since this morning.”

Spider-Man frowned under his mask, “Sounds serious, do you think he knows something we don’t?”

“I do,” Red Hood nodded, “We think he knows what got stolen last night, and it’s crushing him.”

“There was nothing on the news about that,” Spider-Man brought himself back up to sitting, “But I guess they only would have known if it was from a public area, huh.”

Red Hood lent forward and rested his hands on his knees, “Red Robin’s looking into it. Who knows if he’s found anything. If we do learn something, I’ll track you down, as far as I’m concerned you’re in on this case too.”

“Thanks, Red Hood,” Spider-Man smiled, he had been out most of the night at this point and exhaustion rattled his mind, “I should go home. I need to check on someone on the way and I haven’t slept in over 24 hours. I am beat.”

“Could have fooled me,” Red Hood laughed and stood up, “You fought like a beast out there. Just another Spider-Power?”

“Ha, maybe,” Spider-Man smiled, “Thanks for the assist, keep me updated!”

Spider-Man swung away, leaving Red Hood on his own on top of a building. He watched the smooth movements of the guy before he disappeared behind the sky-line.

Bruce had done everything he could to investigate the origin of the cards. No fingerprints, hairs, skin cells. He even discovered the font was just a mishmash of random default ones. The drone’s OS was completely destroyed when it exploded. Nothing to tie it back to the perpetrator.

He sat alone in the cave, staring at the scarlet cards laid out on the metal table. Meticulous was the word that came to mind. Whoever was responsible for these knew how to hide their tracks. There was a lack of sloppiness he would have expected from a first timer.

“Oracle,” Bruce said, “We need to widen our net. Any crime that used cards like this.”

“Calling cards, B,” She laughed, “You can call them that. Even if they didn’t actually take anything, they called out.”

“I guess,” He gruffed, “Just help me look into other criminals who have left physical cards in the past. Anything with a similar style.”

“On it, starting the search now.” Oracle said, then Bruce heard her click off the channel. He crossed his arms on the table and dropped his head into them. A gloved hand reached over him and pulled one of the cards back.

“Phantom Thieves,” Alfred hummed, “Seems fitting, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean, Alfred,” Bruce sighed and turned his head to look at his butler from the side.

“Well no one saw them,” He shrugged, placing the card back on the table, “The only trace of them is this card. And Sir James’ mental state.” He raised his eyebrows and looked down at Bruce.

Said man scoffed and dragged himself back up, “As far as we know it could be nothing more than a nervous breakdown. He seemed stressed the last few days.”

Alfred shrugged, “I suppose there's no real way of knowing… Let's take a break from chasing this ghost, I’m sure they’ll strike again. Then you’ll have more to go off.”

Bruce turned his head back to the cards, flaming eye taunting him to turn his back. Perhaps for now, they really were phantoms, and the chase would go on like this for some time. So he fell for the taunt, and went upstairs with Alfred.

Tim stumped into the kitchen, dressed for school but hair woefully tousled by a poor attempt at sleep. In the kitchen was Bruce, Alfred and Jason, only one of whose presence required questioning.

“Jason,” Tim greeted, “Two mornings in a row?”

“Don’t get used to it,” He laughed, “I have some things I want to discuss, Bat business.”

“Oh joy,” Daimen sighed sarcastically, appearing from behind Tim, “And what might that be?” He started for the island counter to retrieve his breakfast.

“First of all,” Jason smiled, Tim noticed that he was still in his Red Hood outfit, “Found our Spider stopping a drug deal last night. Watched his proclaimed Spider-Sense save him from shots I was sure were going to hit him. Had his back turned and everything.”

“So he is all he said he is,” Tim said, “Hope your helmet was recording, would love to see that in action.” He said as he took a plate Alfred handed to him.

“And besides that, I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh, dangerous Jason,” Tim smiled.

“Shut it, Drake,” Jason sneered, “This is about those self proclaimed Phantom Thieves. I had a thought.”

Tim felt Alfred deflate and Bruce perk up. This was going to be interesting.

“A Phantom Thief is a stock character,” Jason started, “A literary device. It’s more commonly referred to as the ‘Gentleman Thief’. A polite, charming character who avoids direct confrontation and fights. Using cunning and stealth to avoid capture and make their marks. Often moral characters who only steal from people they think deserve it. Think the Scarlet Pimpernel or Arsene Lupin. I think these thieves clearly have an agenda.”

“A mission.” Bruce voiced, “A goal. Something driving them. It’s an interesting idea.”

“One that cannot be proved without another strike,” Alfred interjected.

“We’ll have to wait,” Tim sighed, “Nothing’s been found.”

“Annoying,” Damien huffed, setting his breakfast sandwich down aggressively, “They show up, force us to wait them out for a whole night, and we get nothing on them other than a card and a broken Ruthers. What a joke.”

“Barely even showed up,” Tim scoffed, “A drone and some cards. I wonder if we should expect the same thing next time.”

Quiet fell over the manor until it was time for Alfred to drive Tim and Damien to school, Jason left soon after, leaving Bruce to find his own way to work that morning.

Akira struggled awake from a dark, dreamless sleep, sore and still tired. Light poured out from under the curtains, and the streets sounded busy. Akira's head pounded as he gathered his bearings. He saw the sleeping shape of Peter under his covers and faintly heard one of his upstairs neighbours stomping around.

He lifted himself up onto his elbows and regretted it instantly, feeling woozy. He held on until it passed before pushing himself up to sitting. He rolled his neck, feeling how tight it was. He should have dragged himself into bed last night.

He wasn’t sure how long he stared into space, but eventually he snapped back to reality and pulled his phone out. Friday the 17th. He spent time on his phone, unmotivated to get up and do anything else. Not that he had much to do. A part of him longed to have Morgana’s small form tucked up beside him looking at his phone with him.

Home sick, that’s the word. He hadn't really felt it when he left for Tokyo the first time. He was upset about it, but he never had much back in Inaba to miss. But he couldn’t even message his friends.

Maybe it hadn’t quite sunk in, how weird what was going on really was. He was plucked out his universe and dropped into a different one for a currently unknown reason. Which meant the multiverse was real. Maybe it was better if Akira didn’t think about it. He could tell there was a bad spiral in that thought process.

But he still missed them. An ache in his heart was all the evidence he needed for it. He found an old photo on this phone, from the summer trip. It alleviated the ache, even if it was only for a short time.

Some time around 12 Akira forced himself to get up and take pain killers. He waited for them to kick in before he made himself lunch and made his way back to the couch. Peter got up at around 1:30 and checked on Akira. He said he was fine.

The two hung around the apartment for the day again, with Peter leaving after Akira made dinner with some of the ingredients hanging around. Another night out as Spider-Man, and a quiet evening at home with Akira pouring over both the watch and his own place in the world.

Tim burst into the cafe that day with a fire in his chest that was quickly extinguished by the distinct lack of Akira at the counter. Or anywhere else in the building, for that matter.

He brushed it off and dropped into his regular spot at the booth, but he couldn’t help feeling something was wrong.

“Afternoon, Tim,” Fin smiled, “What can I do for you today?”

“Hi Elanor,” He responded, “Earl grey tea for now, thank you.”

“Of course, man,” She laughed, “What have you been up to today?”

Tim shrugged, “The usual.”

“Mr. Amature detective over here,” She shook her head, “You looking into those Phantom Thieves folks? Considering they went after Mr. Ruthers.”

“Yeah I am, have you heard anything?”

Fin hummed for a second before answering, “No, nothing of note anyway. Mostly just people thinking it’s a scare tactic or something. No one I’ve heard talking about it thinks they’re real.”

“I have been thinking about that,” Tim frowned, “But I’m not sure. James hasn’t been in sound mind since Wednesday.”

“In sounds mind…” Fin had the spaced out look she got sometimes and Tim ignored it, “Anyway, people are dying to get info on him. Like trying to climb the walls into the mansion. I’m sure you’ve heard of that already.”

“People do crazy things,” Tim shook his head, “Bruce wasn’t thrilled about it.”

“I wouldn’t imagine,” Fin frowned and chewed the inside of her lip, “Anyway, I’m at work so I have to go do that.”

“Have fun,” Tim teased and just as Fin started walking away he spoke up again, “Doesn’t Akira usually work today? Where is he?”

Fin raised her eyebrows at him, “Aw, your crush not here?” She chuckled to herself for a second, “But for real, his room mate came in yesterday and said he was too injured to leave the house. Mum gave him the rest of the week off.”

“Oh shit,” Tim gasped, I hope everything's okay.”

“Peter didn’t seem worried,” She shrugged, “But we’ll have to see.”

“I guess…” Tim sighed. He turned back to his laptop. He had been hoping to see Akira, but it was always nice to talk to Fin.

Eventually Peter got back, late.

“Did you sleep?” He asked, walking over and standing across the table from Akira.

“A bit,” He shrugged, staring down at a folded piece of paper in his hands, “There’s just a lot on my mind right now. Things I’m figuring out.”

Peter plopped himself down in the chair across from Akira, leaning towards him. Akira flinched slightly, closing his hands tighter on the paper.

“I need to tell you something,” He said as he refused to meet Peter’s eyes, “And I need you to not speak a word of this to anyone else. Even if this means you want to get away from me after.”

Peter was taken aback, looking at the scrunched up figure in front of him. He was hunched over, shoulders pressed in, head down watching the paper in his hands like a hawk. Whatever this was, it was serious, and Peter wanted to be there for him if he could.

“You have my word,” Peter gently smiled, “I promise.”

Akira nodded his head slightly and remained quiet for a moment. He breathed in and brought himself into an upright and regal pose. His sharp, grey eyes stabbed into Peter causing him to pull back a bit, but not a lot. A serious frown pinned his mouth as he breathed through his nose, then calmly stated…

“I am the leader of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts.”

Peter’s eyes widened as he froze. What?

“Don’t panic, let me explain what I do,” Akira jumped, and upon getting a stilted nod from Peter he continued, “I don’t steal real things. And stop me if you need me to explain my words. I steal from the metaphysical realm. I travel between our world and the cognitive to take the root of people’s negative desires and change their hearts. Doing this makes them realise the error of their ways and they have a Change of Heart. I did that to James Ruthers.”

Peter titled his head and lent towards Akira, “You steal desires?”

“Negative desires. For the most part. There’s always a root to people’s evil ways and an object that represents that. The first person we ever changed the heart of had his olympic medal as his root. We call them Treasures.”

“That’s really interesting,” Peter relaxed, looking into his roommate’s eyes, “So, you make bad people change their ways?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re not bad guys?”

“I wouldn’t call us that. Morally grey maybe, but not bad.”

Peter dropped back against his chair. Despite the collected exterior, Akira was a bundle of nerves.

“So,” Peter started, trying to collect his thoughts, “You guys try and change things for the better. That’s good. You’re good.”

“I hope so.” Akira chuckled.

Peter smiled, “Well, I just discovered my roommate is way cooler than I thought he was. Not only a member of the vigilante group The Phantom Thieves of Hearts, but the leader? Hell yeah.”

“You’re not scared? Or wanting to leave?” Akira smiled, relieved.

“I mean a little scared,” Peter shrugged, “If I mess up you’ll change my heart, but no. You’re still Akira, right? You’ve just become way more interesting.”

“Thank god,” Akira deflated, “I was so worried that you would turn against me or something.”

Peter shook his head, “Nah, and from one vigilante to the other, you have some sick branding.”

“Thanks, it was actually some of the other members who created it and we all decided on it, besides we have an artist in our midst. Wait. Did you say you’re also a vigilante?”

Peter sowre, he did not 100% mean to say it but he figured he couldn’t exactly back peddle on it. “Yeah. I did. I’m… Spider-man.”

“Seriously?” Akira laughed, “What the hell are the chances we’d meet? Let alone come to live together.”

“Yeah that’s… Weirdly lucky,” Peter puzzled, “I don’t get a lot of that.”

“Maybe it’s turning around,” Akira shrugged, “How about a partnership between the leader of the Phantom Thieves, and Spider-Man.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Peter smiled, “Will I get to meet the others?”

Akira shook his head sadly, “No, they’re all currently back in Japan. We were given our powers by a magical cognitive entity guy and he sent me on a solo mission here.”

“Aw,” Peter frowned, “Well, I guess you can’t exactly help that. How come no one’s ever heard of you guys before if you’ve been doing it for a while?”

Akira froze for a second, the cover story having been lost in the relief of Peter not running away. “Oh, well, we kept to the shadows. Didn’t put our name out there, but we decided we should finally do it, now that’s were playing in Batman’s territory.”

“Fair enough,” Peter said, “So, sticking around Gotham for a while then?”

Akira nodded, “For now.”

“So, Leader of the Phantom Thieves,” Peter smirked, “do you have a cool code name or something?”

“Trickster,” Akira smiled, “I went by something different back in Japan, but this feels more fitting for now.”

“Trickster,” Peter tested, “I like it. Nice to meet you Trickster, I’m Spider-Man.” He stuck his hand out over the table, inviting Akira to shake it.

“Nice to meet you, too, Spider-Man,” Akira smiled and took his hand. The flame of connection burning brighter in his chest.

Chariot Rank 3!
Now has a chance to get a Danger Sense, allowing Trickster to dodge incoming attacks or traps. Skull Follow Up attack restored.

“I think we’ll have a fruitful partnership,” Akira let go first, “And to start, I want some help with something.”

“Shoot,” Peter shrugged.

“I mentioned the whole Treasurer thing, well, I do get a physical object. A copy of the real one that started the person down the path of twisted desires. I got this pocket watch from James.”

He laid the watch on the table. The rose engraving facing upwards.

“I’ve been having some trouble with some of the engravings,” Akira frowned and turned the watch over, “I’m just not sure what this means, if it’s something I don’t get as a non native speaker or something.”

“Sr to Jr,” Peter read, “Hm, do you know his dad’s name?”

“Also James.”

“...Senior to Junior!” Peter looked up at Akira, “If two people have the same name, the older one is called senior and the younger junior. A gift from father to son.”

“James took over his dad’s role in Wayne enterprises,” Akira recalled from his google searches, “This must have been his dad’s gift to him when that happened!”

“And you said they’re the root of their negative desires, right?” Peter asked.

“They are, James was embezzling money and lining both his and his friend’s pockets behind Bruce Wayne’s back. As well treating his employees like expendable puppets. Certainly not the worst things in the world but not great when you’re the CFO of one of America’s major companies.”

“That’s fascinating,” Peter admired, “You’ll have to bring me along into this cognitive world thing some time so I can see it.”

“Eh,” Akira thought for a moment, “Maybe, if I think whatever Palace I go to next is safe enough.”

“Palace?” Peter questioned.

“Inside the cognitive world there are pockets where specific people’s desires have grown into their own separate representation. We call them Palaces.”

“Well, now that that’s all sorted,” Peter drawled, “can we go to bed? I’m beat after patrol tonight.”

Akira chucked, “Sure, good night.”

The two went to bed, air lighter in the apartment than it had ever been.

Gotham was… Normal. At least it’s normal. The clouded sky hung heavy and the assembly of heroes did their usual thing after the Phantom Thieves turned up only dead ends.

Akira and Peter spent a quiet weekend at home, with Peter doing his Spider-Man thing in the evening. Being glad he could change in the apartment and work on his gadgets more openly. They also discussed their powers, with both learning what the other was capable of. Akira was a fan of Peter’s senses, and Peter of Akira’s Third Eye.

Akira also finally found a gym that would suit his needs, but it was a fair way to travel. He wasn’t quite sure about it yet.

It wasn’t until Monday that anything was kicked into gear. An announcement. James Ruthers made his first public appearance on Thursday that week, the 23rd. Akira all but demanded Peter come with him, confident in his change of heart. Tim invited Akira to come see it as well.

Just a few more days… Then The Phantom Thieves would make their mark.

Gotham was buzzing, villains quietly spoke between themselves about what the thieves could possibly be. Curious, but cautious. Civilians spoke to each other, theories on what possibly they could be, what they did, and if they were even real. Akira listened in on the streets and on customers. But he had hopes their opinions would change.

That Wednesday, the 22nd, Tim sat frustrated at his computer, and Akira noticed.

“Having trouble with some homework?” Akira asked, placing Tim’s tea in front of him.

“Something like that,” He mumbled, leaning into his computer, “Remember our deal? What do you know about these so-called Phantom Thieves?”

Akira titled his head at Tim, then looked around the cafe. It was pretty empty. Really only Tim was in there as a customer. Fin was sat across from Tim with her sketchbook out and earbuds in, that was really he only other life in the front at the time. Elanor had disappeared out the back somewhere and a quick scan with his Third Eye revealed that she was doing stock take and wouldn’t be back for a while.

Akira sighed and plopped himself down next to Fin, who barely looked up before turning back to drawing.

“I’ve heard some stuff while I’ve been walking around,” Akira shrugged, “Little bit online as well.”

“Then let’s compare,” Tim gestured his hand across the table, “Floor is yours.”

“Mostly,” Akira started, “It’s been people not believing them. That it’s some publicity stunt or scare tactic. Some people think it’s a villain like Joker or something trying to build fear in the public. That the uncertainty of if they were real or not is what they’re banking on to cause fear. Not many think they’re a real or independent group.”

“Nothing new then,” Tim sighed, “Due to the proclaimed target being the literal CFO of Wayne Enterprises I’ve been trying to dig up info on them. But I’m starting to have my doubts that they're real as well… But with how James has been since… I just can’t dismiss them.”

“If it’s not too much,” Akira asked cautiously, “How has he been?”

“Frankly? Terrible.” Tim stated, “He hasn’t left his bedroom since he got home Thursday. His wife has been worried sick. No one knows what happened because he won’t talk to anyone. The only communication we’ve had with him was getting the message he wanted to make an address tomorrow. I just can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, something happened. That these Phantom Thieves really did something.”

Akira tried not to show his pride, instead forcing a frown on his face, but it was Fin who spoke up first, “You’re not the only one. I think most people are just saying they’re not real to comfort themselves. Gotham’s already fucked up enough, even in a world full of costumed heroes and villains. People don’t want one more thing to worry about.”

“You make a good point,” Tim muttered then looked back at his laptop screen, “The thing I can't really make sense of is the full name. “Of Hearts”? What does that even mean?”

Akira shrugged and Fin had gone back to drawing.

“Are you going to the address? I’m out of school for that period to show face at it.” Tim asked.

“Oh dude I’m skipping,” Fin laughed, “I need to see this in person.”

“Dragging my roommate along,” Akira nodded, “We’re both pretty curious.”

“Are you obsessed with skipping school?” Tim sneered at Fin who stuck her tongue out at him, “It would be nice to meet your roommate, I’ll be out the front afterwards to chat if you want.”

“Sounds good,” Akira smiled.

“You’re no better then I am,” Fin scowled at Tim, “It’ a 50/50 if you’re even going to be at school. I just skip specific periods.”

“Which your mother oh so loves,” Tim rolled his eyes, “But whatever.”

With that, Akira stood and got back to work. While Tim continued his fruitless search.

“Are you sure about this?” Peter whispered as Akira dragged him through the crowd.

“As sure as I can be,” He smiled, “This is what it’s all about.”

They stood behind the rows of cameras and journalists and Akira was struck by how similar it was to the release of the calling cards. But he pushed that through out of his head quickly. Tim was standing with multiple members of the Wayne family by the front windows. At a glance it looked like all of them were there.

“There is so many of them,” Peter mused looking over the Waynes, “How do you even acquire that many?”

“Being rich?” Akira offered with comedic shrug. He chuckled then turned back to the Wayne Enterprises podium sitting on top of the short stairs up to the entrance.

Bruce was whispering to his gaggle of kids, ranging from about 25 to 12. They all looked at him with stern, media trained, readiness. Once they broke, Tim scanned the crowd, quickly laying eyes on Akira and nodding to him. He nodded back and turned to smirk and Peter.

“I thought you were lying about being friends with a Wayne,” He hissed, “But he just looked for you in a crowd!”

“Please,” Akira rolled his eyes, “I am not his only friend out here. My co-worker, Fin, is supposed to be out here, if she managed to actually skip class.”

“You didn’t tell her not to do that?” Peter questioned.

“She does it frequently,” Akira assured, “I have a feeling nothing I say will get her to stop.”

“To be fair I can’t say much,” Peter sighed, “Wagged a fair amount while I was in school.”

“Guess I’m the best student here then,” Akira smirked, “Barely missed a day in high school. Well, ignoring third year. I kind of hated being back home for that long.”

“Wow, missed the city that much?” Peter laughed and lightly bonked him with his shoulder.

“Missed my friends,” Akira corrected, “Hope you get to meet them some time.” He smiled wistfully.

The conversation was cut short as Bruce Wayne stepped up to the podium to speak.

“Hello everyone!” He greeted, “I wish I was standing here under better circumstances, but after those cards were released last week my friend and fellow head of Wayne enterprises, James Ruthers, has been in an awful state. Today he wishes to stand before you and speak about how he has been affected over the past week. James?”

Bruce turned and opened his hand to the doors of the building and James Ruthers walked out. And he looked like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, greasy hair, tie on wrong and one of his shoes not tied. Akira was a master of the poker face, but it was almost enough to get him to break.

James stepped up to the podium, a notable weakness in his steps.

“I am… A different man then I was a week ago.” He said, “That night, after the cards came, I realised I had been horrible to everyone in my life.” He looked over the heads of the crowd and the energy quickly dissipated from everyone, journalist looking to their camera crews in resigned curiosity, “My whole life the only thing I’ve ever worked towards was getting myself more money. And when Bruce cut my pay so we could have more in the budget for our workers and charitable efforts, I embezzled. Hundreds of off-shores and shells companies, held by both me and my business partners. All of it under Bruce’s nose. Directing money from charities and deals back to my own pockets over time. I ignored my family and employees needs in pursuit of more money.”

Chatter broke out in the crowd, questions flew.

“James… What?’ Bruce approached the man, hand stretched out, worry furrowing his brow.

“Bruce Wayne was not involved in any of it!” James cried out over the crowd, “He didn’t know! I didn’t let him know! This is all me! Arrest me!”

Police had began to close in, Bruce tried to get close but Dick held him back. James was detained as he yelled “I’m the only one at fault! Arrest me! Take me in!” at the podium and dragged off somewhere to be detained. Bruce staggered to stand and address the crowd.

“With that revelation,” He sputtered, “We’re done here. Wayne Enterprises will look into this and figure out what is going on. Trust us. Thank you for coming.”

People were slow to move along. Hanging around to see if anything else would happen. The sudden end to the event left everyone confused and unsatisfied.

But it worked. Akira did it. The first true Change Of Heart in this world. Akira’s soul felt alight as the confused whispers moved through the crowd. Tim caught his eye and frowned, being dragged away by his family. It seems they won’t get to chat today.

Akira tapped his knuckles into Peter’s shoulder and jerked his head, signaling their leave. They pressed through the crowd and got out the otherside, heading towards the subway.

“We’ll talk about it when we get home,” Was all Akira said as they walked. They walked quietly side by side, sat with each other on the subway, and walked a bit more until they got back to the apartment. The second they did, a large smile broke out on Akira’s face as he placed his bag down.

“He actually confessed,” Peter stared at Akira in disbelief, “You did that?”

“No, he just did that on his own,” He tamed his smile into a smirk, “Of course I did it. I’ve done it before, and I was pretty sure it would work.”

“Pretty sure?” Peter puzzled, “You mean you thought there was a chance he wouldn’t?”

“Can never be too sure,” Akira shrugged, “Especially the first one in a while. It worked. That’s what matters.”

“I guess,” Peter shrugged, “This is gonna be massive. So many people who can be taken down. Any idea who you’re going after next?”

Akira shook his head, “Haven’t really thought about it, wanted to make sure James confesses before I got carried away.”

Peter figured that was fair, and the two settled down for the night. Akira was camped on his phone checking social media, where he saw people starting to point fingers towards the Phantom Thieves.

They said they would expose him right, did they make him confess?

Phantom Thieves seem to be legit. They were spot on in their note. Thats crazy.

What the fuck? Cards calling out James Ruthers fall over a conference last week and now he’s confessing to all that shit? Nah these thieves have done something.

Akira smiled as he scrolled through. It was small, but there. That’s all he needed.

“The start of a new journey” Satanael hummed, “Amazing.”

Chapter Text

Tim sat in the back of Dick’s car, Duke beside him with Damian in the passenger seat. Alfred, Bruce and Cass would be catching up once Bruce sorted out some PR and legal stuff. Tim had his feet up against the back of Damian’s seat, who sat quietly and stewed in the annoyance of it. After a fight between Tim and Damian drew blood in Dick’s car, he’s been very clear about a no fighting inside the car rule. And neither of the boys wanted to piss Dick off.

Duke stared out the window picking at his nails, watching the city go by. His shoulders were squared and jaw set. Tim could see the stress in him the easiest. Damian’s annoyance with Tim outweighed whatever else was going on in his head and Dick had his annoying shield up around his emotions so he looked fine.

Tim on the other hand didn’t feel all that stressed. Whatever just happened had to have an explanation. Did it suck that James ended up being a bad person? Of course! But he already had a feeling he was. The main thing now was the how and why. Was it really these so-called thieves? Was the threat and suggestion someone knew enough to break him? What would the police uncover? What would they uncover?

Tim wasn’t nervous. He was excited. He kept it bottled inside as they got home, then all went to get changed. He managed to get some homework done and look at what people were saying online about the Thieves, before then was summoned to the Bat Cave. Bruce was lent against the desk of the BatComputer in his regular black slacks and dark grey turtleneck. He looked tired. His usual slick backed style was falling apart, with strands coming undone. His blue eyes were locked in place on the floor.

Dick was already down there half dressed in his Nightwing suit with Jason in full Red Hood and Steph in her Spoiler outfit without her mask on. Jason and Steph had been on watch duty over the press conference this afternoon. Cass was next down, sweaty from some physical activity, followed by Damian who was picking paint off his hands. Duke was the last of the heroes down. Alfred closed up the rear once he knew everyone was in the cave. Barbara was connected on call to the computer.

Once everyone was there the meeting got started.

“James has been taken into custody,” Bruce said flatly, “He’s being questioned as we speak but he’s already given up names of people he was working with. I’ve added those names to the active investigations list. For now we’ll leave the bulk of the investigation up to police and internal WE personnel. At least until more is discovered that we can act on.”

“Sounds like some BNE is in order,” Jason smirked and Bruce had to hold back a reaction.

“Whatever you decide to do,” Bruce said, composing himself, rubbing his tired eyes, “But it is currently not a high priority. Our main priority in this case is anything directly related to the gangs. If we hear about or find anything we’ll act.”

“I can’t believe James…” Dick mumbled. Tim knew that Dick, out of all of them, was the most involved in the social life on Gotham. He was charming and friendly, which he used to learn about people.

In general, everyone thought James was trustworthy. Not Tim, but that was more of a gut feeling than anything evidence based. Which he was right about. But it wasn’t time to gloat. James was trusted. Bruce had known him when they were children, and then when he came back after his world tour training arc. The Ruthers were a trusted family for them, but now…

“James has been a friend to the family for a long time,” Bruce states, “But he betrayed us. He hid all of this from us and now Wayne Enterprises is suffering.”

“I suppose we have to thank these Phantom Thieves,” Duke pondered, “They are the ones who seemingly made him confess. It’s better to find out now rather than later.”

“But we shouldn’t have had to have someone else expose this!” Dick complained, “We’re supposed to be on top of it. We are supposed to know these things.”

“It is confronting…” Bruce gritted his teeth, “As far as I know it’s been going on for the last few years. Ever since James Sr. stepped down from the role. The real question is how didn’t we see it.”

“Tim had been looking into James,” Duke voiced, “Are you sure you never found anything?”

Tim hissed out a breath as he thought, digging through his mind then shook his head. “Nothing concrete. There were a few suspicious transactions but they never went anywhere…”

“The tracks were covered well then,” Cass hummed, “How frustrating.”

“You really didn't find anything, Drake?” Damian questioned, his eyes cutting into the older boy. Tim wracked his head but every lead he followed never turned anything up.

“Have we considered,” Steph interrupted, “That whoever these Phantom Thieves are might have either been tipped off by or be people who were in this financial racket?”

Everyone turned to her, and she shrugged her crossed arms. Dick nodded thoughtfully for a second before he spoke up, “That would make sense on how they got the information. It would also give us a possible reason why they got to him so bad.”

“We’ll unpack that later,” Tim cut in, the Thieves on his mind, “I’ve picked up some of the general public's thoughts about the whole thing, if anyone wants to hear.”

The Bats nodded at him and he continued.

“In general,” Tim said as he pulled his phone out to check his screenshots, “A lot of people are pinning it on random super villains. Joker is a common pick due to the presentation aspect of it all. Harvey as well due to his legal background. People who don’t think it’s one of the rogues are leaning towards it being a hoax or some kind of publicity stunt Ruthers is involved with.”

“Why would you admit to crimes for that?” Damian questioned, “It seems counterintuitive.”

“It puts the public eye on him,” Bruce shrugged, “If it is something like that, we have to ask what would it be advertising for? The cards had strong imagery, so perhaps a merch company or line of some kind. But I don’t feel like it’s that.

“I don’t think so either,” Tim said, “Whatever it is, it was a genuine attack against Ruthers. An intentional attempt to expose him. For now we have to keep on our toes and look out for clues, but unless these Thieves strike again I don’t think there’s much to go off.”

“If that’s the case I’m going back to Bludhaven,” Dick cut in, “I was in the middle of something until I got called in for a public appearance.”

“That’s fine,” Bruce said, “I believe some villains will take their opportunity tonight or in the coming days with this chaos. A lot of the police will be picking through James’ properties and accounts. But whatever it is, it shouldn't be a disaster.”

“Does that mean we’re all going to be on tonight?” Steph asked, a wide smile on her face.

“Yes, it does,” Bruce nodded, “And be alert. If you see anything, report it.”

“We also have that new Spider-Guy!” Steph cheered, “We’ll get to see his true potential.”

“We’ll have to see,” Bruce said, “But he is not a priority. Now. Patrols are the usual. Oracle will make the calls if and when to deviate and who does at what times. Now, go get ready.”

The family nodded and Dick said his goodbyes, driving off to Bludhaven while a thick sheet of rain began to fall over the city. He watched it cover the city like a heavy curtain as he left the limits. Something sinister crept in the rain, and everyone felt it.

Peter watched Akira as he stared out into the rain. He was perched on a chair he dragged over to the window, sitting with his head on his knee that had been brought up to his chest. There was a solemn look on his face behind his glasses. One Peter was sure he had worn before based on how naturally it sat.

“If you’re worried about me in the weather,” Peter smiled at him, trying to lighten the mood, “Don’t be! I’m a waterproof spider!”

Akira raised an eyebrow at him and looked skeptically at the spandex costume laid out over the back of the couch.

“I’ll be fine,” He assured, “My webs are pretty good in the wet, and sturdy. If there’s a problem I’ll use the com to get your attention.”

“That’s what you actually made those for, huh,” Akira mused, looking back over his shoulder at his earpiece sitting on the long dresser they were using as their bedside surface. “I mean once you as Spider-man became a thing in my brain I figured as much, but it’s nice getting a bit of confirmation.”

“It’s worse case scenario stuff,” Peter shrugged, “They’re not that good, but they work. I’ll have to work on some better ones once I get this round of suit upgrades done. Honestly getting some extra protection on this thing is my top priority.”

Akira smiled weakly then turned back to look out the window. “I was only a little worried about you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen rain like this. And it just brings back some not so great memories.”

“I get that,” Peter looked down at his hands, “Sometimes things remind me of one of the worst days of my life. A fresh start here isn’t the worst thing for me, really.”

“Neither.”

The two didn’t speak another word until they said their goodbye for the evening as Peter launched himself out the window and swung away.

Peter felt the rain seeping into his suit, with the cold wind ripping across his body. He was not having a great time as he swung, but crime had been high that night and he hadn’t had an opportunity to dry off yet. Even now he swung in pursuit of a van full of criminals. Beside him Red Robin was keeping pace with the van, but having trouble staying in line with Peter’s movements.

The neon lights of Gotham broke through the dark and illuminated the wet and grimy streets. They reflected off the wet ground and falling water droplets, blending everything into twisted watercolour.

He allowed himself some air time to think about the situation, catching the wind for a few seconds. There was still a considerable distance between him and the van, with Red Robin clearly starting to lose distance as the chase went on for minutes at a time. He needed to close in and slow it down fast but they were taking turns so quickly and haphazardly he was expecting them to crash before he could. He caught himself in a swing again and kept following.

Peter whipped out both his webs at the same time and swung down over the street and continued his arc, launching himself above the buildings to cut across the corner and closing some of the distance between him and the van. He watched it swerve around a few civilian cars and a GCPD vehicle and Peter knew it had to come to an end before anyone innocent got hurt.

He dove down back into the confinement of the high rises and swung, using his webs to zip closer and closer and within thirty seconds he was only a few meters behind it. With two webs firmly planted onto facades of two buildings he flung himself downwards and caught himself in a low swing behind the van.

Once they recklessly turned into another street Spider-Man kicked into full gear, shooting out a web wall in front of them that he could set down on. He Managed to catch himself on it and shot many webs into the back and sides of the van and began pulling against it, slowing them down and causing them to lose traction. Red Robin swooped in and pulled the driver out and slammed it into park. Spider-Man let go and took a moment to catch his breath before jumping in to help RR fight.

Spider-man pounced on a guy exiting through the side door and rolled with him for a few seconds before Spidey threw him over to the sidewalk and webbed him to the front of a building before moving onto the rest of the guys coming out of the van. There were six of them, removing the driver RR knocked out and the now webbed one.

RR was the first one to move in, he swung into the side of a guys head with his staff, hitting him hard and sending the guy reeling. Red Robin was then grappled from the front by one of the others. Spider-man leapt into the air and webbed the back of the man’s clown themed jacket and tore him off RR.

Now free Red Robin rushed to sweep two of them off their feet. Spider-Man flipped with the man he had pulled off RR in mid air and launched him into the ground, landing him on his back and winding him. He then jumped up and used his webs to pull himself down and knock him out. As this was going on a GCPD car pulled up and Spidey tossed him towards them.

He dodged a blow from behind and flipped the one responsible over his shoulder. The man bounced and his clown mask went askew. Spider-Man wrapped him in webs and threw him towards the cops again.

Red Robin on the other hand was fighting two of them, blocking blows from both sides and starting to lose footing. Spider-Man jumped over and pulled RR out there by his cape. The two landed next to each other and nodded in understanding, rushing in and bringing both of them to the ground. RR cuffed one of them and Spidey webbed the other’s arms to his sides. Both were quickly directed towards the officers.

Spidey’s senses screamed at him and webbed the back of Red Robin’s suit and flung him away from a gunshot that rang out in the already panicked street. He quickly turned on the source and shot a few short bursts of webs and covered the gun and hands of the criminal. Red Robin reoriented himself and finally caught up to the situation at hand. There was only one guy left to take out and he ran at him, tackling him to the ground and wailing on him until he was incapacitated. Still breathing but his face was bruised and bloody. Peter cringed slightly at the sight.

The two vigilanties looked inside the van and Red Robin was satisfied with just seeing the money in the back. Spider-Man however felt something was off. He entered and found a card tucked in under some of the cash with a strange energy around it. It was stark white and black with some text on it.

“It’s an order, - Mr. N” It read. Peter turned it over and saw a small printed N on the back then tucked the card away in his suit. He exited the van and Red Robin jerked his head up towards the rooftops. Spider-Man nodded and both vigilanties launched themselves to the sky and onto a building, finding a cover to bunker down in the storm for a moment. Spider-Man took his gloves off and started to wring them out.

“You did good down there,” Red Robin commented, “Been doing this for a while?”

“In a way,” Spider-Man shrugged, “Nothing public.”

Red Robin nodded and pulled the edge of his mask up. His mask interested Peter. It covered his eyes, then bent downwards at the edge and covered the outside of his face until it was in line with his mouth. When he pulled it up a small amount of water flowed out.

“I really need to make sure this thing is on properly before going out in this weather,” He said, replacing his mask and pushing the sides down.

Peter laughed, “Tell me about it. I told myself I had to add a layer of water protection into my suit but noooo I just kept putting it off.”

Red Robin chuckled and turned to Spider-Man, a large smile on his face, “In a city like Gotham you need it. No matter the time of year it’s miserable.”

“Yeah, it’s on the list,” He said, pulling out a couple of fresh web cartridges and changing them out for the near empty ones in his web-shooters. Once they were replaced he pulled his gloves back on.

“Did you make those wrist shooters on your own?” Red Robin asked, a genuine note of curiosity entering his voice.

“Yeah I did,” Spider-Man preened, “Honestly, for spare parts and cheap objects they came out pretty good.”

“Hell yeah,” Red Robin smiled, “And the suit as well. You're pretty good for a newbie.”

Peter had to ignore how his heart sank by the word “Newbie”. Even after his civilian life being whipped off the face of his world, Spider-Man still had a presence, an established role. He said thanks and went back to adjusting his suit.

Red Robin put his hand to his ear, listening in on his com before affirming something.

“The active period of the night should come to an end soon,” Red Robin said to Spider-Man, “But not yet. We should get back out.”

“We?” Spider-man questioned.

“Yeah,” Red Robin shrugged, “You might not be a Bat, but you are a vigilante. It’s nice having the help from someone like you. Besides, I want to see more of what you’re capable of.”

A smile crept onto Peter’s face. He was on the good side of two of the bats, and that felt good. He nodded and after a few more moments of rest and drying out, the two of them flung out of the cover together and flew over the streets of Gotham. By the time Peter got home he was battered and bruised and tired. He fished out the now damp stark white card from his suit and set it down on the counter. The black “N” stared up at him.

Peter looked over the card again and noticed that the black lettering wasn’t ink. It appeared it was burned into the card stock, however when he held it up against his phone’s flashlight no light got through it. Peter frowned at this and decided he would look at it again tomorrow. He crawled into bed and fell asleep, only getting about two hours of it before he was awoken…

Akira awoke in the Velvet Room that night with little surprise, he had felt an ill wind in the storm that he recognised as cognitive disruptions. When he looked towards the central room, the first thing he noticed was the door. It had been blasted inwards and was hanging on its hinges uselessly. The next thing he noticed was a figure. A man. Dark hair covered the top of his face, his eyes barely peeking through which framed a thin jaw with sharp angles, wrinkled lines portrayed his middle age. He wore a dark, finely tailored suit with a long, tentacle-like scarf, starting a deep midnight blue and ending in green tips. The scarf seemed to behave like a tentacle as well, as it held Igor up by the throat. His bright blue eyes bored into Akira as he stepped up and past the door. The man spoke as he entered the main room, and Akira noticed Lavenza to the side, unconscious, and Igor’s desk firmly planted in a wall.

“It was about time we met, Trickster,” His voice sounded like thousands of dissonant whispers, strong male voices rising to the top, “I’ve heard plenty about you, seen you do great things.” As he spoke his grip on Igor’s throat tightened, causing the impish old man to produce a choking sound that Akira flinched at.

He stepped forward from his poised position at the center of the room, blue and green tipped fingers coming out from behind him into a wide open splay as he held his arms out.

“You are very interesting. Being a Wild Card is hard work in today’s day and age. But you made it look so easy. For a long time I’ve been playing a game with these schmucks in the Velvet Room. Is the destructive will of humanity greater than its will to persevere? You are just the next sorry piece in all of this.” The man tossed Igor to the side and continued his approach, scarf reaching forward and brushing under Akira’s chin.

“So what,” Akira spat, jerking away from the touch, “You’re just the next guy I have to take down?”

The man chuckled in thousands of voices, of men, of children, of women, of all cry and creed. He pressed his face forward and it cracked, showing the deep blue of his fingers and scarf as well as the tiny yet familiar masks of Shadows scattered across the blue abyss under the facade of skin.

“I am no mere weakling god of the Sea of Souls. I am Nyralathotep. I am humanities will of destruction. You cannot kill me. Weaken to the point of retreat perhaps, but that is not the aim of this game. You’ll figure out the rules in your own time. You’re smart. All I wanted to do is change the way all of this works, and take you down a few pegs.”

The tentacle lashed out and grabbed Akira, pinning his arms to his side. He thrashed about, hearing his Persona’s cry out in distress equal to his own. He tried to call on Satanael but Nyarlathotep kept him at bay as he began to pick apart and dismiss the Persona’s back to the Sea of Souls. One by one his Persona’s were tripped from him. All but Satanael, his true other self.

“If we’re going to do this, a start from square one is in order!” The voices clashed in excited shouting as Satanael was pulled forward, held by the other end of the long scarf. Chains shot off the walls and wrapped around both the Persona and Akira once again, confining Satanael back down into the form of Arsène, his initial Persona. Both parts of the self cried out, blue flame stirring up from them pushing Nyarlathotep back, although the Crawling Chaos seemed more interested then threatened by the act.

“Whatever game you’ve set me up in,” Akira yelled, blue flames licking up his body as his Phantom Thief outfit overtook his regular Prison garb, “I will win! You want to see humanities resolve? I’ll show it to you!” Arsène’s raven-like wings flared and opened, a large gust of wind caused the adversary to move back further.

“Trickster!” Arsène called to him, voice clear as day in front of him, “I am Thou, Thou art I! Thou’s resolve to further your sacrilege in pursuit of freedom and thine own Justice is true and strong! My name is once again yours to call on if you choose to accept the Vow! Thine’s will to challenge those who oppose his ideals is burning bright like the fires of Hell thou is chained to! Akira! Art thine willing to stand against Destruction?”

“I am!” Akira called, “Arsène! My Persona!”

The bricks of the Velvet Room shifted, revealing the dark iridescent realm of the Collective Unconscious all around as Nyarlathotep rose to the challenge.

“Let the game begin! The world changes in accordance with it and your means of attack have as well! I’ve seen enough of you in Palaces and Jail for a lifetime. This will be something new!”

As the room deteriorated a yellow flash broke out from behind Nyarlathotep’s shifting form. The last thing Akira saw before he woke up was the split apart Velvet Room, and a hoard of yellow butterflies beginning to swarm as he began to call out.

Akira awoke as lightning cracked over the city. It illuminated the dark studio apartment as Akira threw off his blankets and stuffed his face in his hands. He must have screamed as he woke as Peter rushed to his side, checking on him. There was a terrible, constricting feeling around his face as his fingers danced a familiar edge. The smooth surface of his mask met his hands and he got up, pushing Peter away, and stood in between the bed area and the dining room table.

His mask was uncomfortable, painful, his head pounded and he fought to stay on his feet. He clawed at the sides of the mask, trying to force it to give. After what felt like an eternity he got a solid hold and began to pull, feeling the tension give and his skin rip with it. His blood splattered across the floor and across the rest of the apartment. It dripped for a second as he caught his breath, then he reared back, pulling it the rest of the way and blue flame spread from between his eyes down to his feet

The blood all across the room burnt away as the blue fire rose from Akira. His Phantom Thief outfit proudly on display. Arsène burst from the flames, the wind kicking up from his wings tossing, Akira’s hair, outfit, and any loose object in the rest of the apartment. Peter shielded his face from it.

Akira centered himself, breathing evenly to help slow his racing heart as he reestablished himself in the room. He looked down and saw his Phantom Thief outfit. He tugged at the gloves and adjusted the cuff, inspecting himself and tugging at different parts of his outfit to make sure what he was seeing was real. Through their bond he felt a tug at Arsène’s feathers and turned in fright to see Peter retreating halfway up the far wall.

“Dude! Akira? What?” He asked, clearly too scared to get down from his spot on the wall. Akira still wasn’t grounded in reality yet and had to process what was said to him for a few seconds. Once he did he turned and looked at Arsène, taking a step back. Arsène looked the same as usual. Tall, dressed in red, a mask and tophat but no head. He was curled up a bit to fit into the room with his wings curled in.

“Arsène,” Akira whispered, reaching up and brushing his hand against his wings, “What just happened… You’re…”

“I know as much as you, Trickster,” Arsène said, “And this was… Unanticipated. I am unsure how to guide you.”

Akira frowned and rubbed his thumb against his Arsène’s feathers, “This is so much…”

“Um, Hello?” Peter interrupted, “I don’t want to interrupt, but I’m really confused. What happened?”

Akira suddenly jolted back into reality fully, snapping his head to Peter, who flinched.

“Dude, stop it! You’re setting my Spider-Sense off like crazy!”

“Sorry,” Akira stammered, “Sorry, we’re not sure of… A lot just happened.”

“Let's start easy,” Peter suggested, “Who is that?” He pointed at the Persona still hunched over in the apartment.

“That’s Arsène,” Akira smiled and looked at him, “I told you about Personas. He’s mine. My initial other self. He looks a lot cooler when he’s not hunched over like that.”

Arsene scoffed and turned himself towards Peter, his form still had some translucent to it, but he was physically in the world in some regard. He offered a clawed hand to Peter who took it and they shook.

“Pleased to meet you,” The thief chuckled before reaching back. Akira then reached up to his face, dispelling his Persona and redonning his mask.

“What you saw, me ripping my face off and all, was an awakening,” Akira explained, “A reawakening, in better terms. The force who gives me powers… Something happened to them. There was an attack that stripped me of a lot of my power. And it’s changed something in the world. In Cognition. I don’t know what happened. What the attack really was. But the Velvet Room was falling apart as I woke up.”

“Oh shit,” Peter whispered, getting off of the wall, “That sounds really serious. Are you okay?”

Akira thought for a moment, but his head was foggy and the fatigue from an awakening was setting in. He had after all just ripped a cognitive being, Arsène, into full reality. But he held on.

“I’m not sure. When I first got my powers the master of the room wasn’t even the actual guy. He was an imposter. I feel like it can come back from a lot.”

“I guess it’s not a physical place,” Peter mumbled, “God this is a lot. I mean we live in a world with aliens and magic and all of that so I’m over that hurdle. But an entire plane of reality with its own ruling forces is something new.”

Akira chuckled, “It is a lot to take in. But I guess I have my outfit in reality now.” He once again looked over himself, wearing the familiar deep grey ensemble. His red gloves stood out as a grand pop of colour. Ignoring the fatigue, he felt great. His strength, power and agility from the Metaverse carried over. He wasn’t sure what to do with it yet, but he was sure he would find out soon.

Peter approached and looked him over, taking in the new outfit before meeting his eyes. “Your eyes are red, thats cool!”

Red? No one had ever mentioned that before or seen it in any reflective surface in Palaces or Jail before. Adrenaline surged as he went and grabbed his phone, using the camera to see red eyes staring back at him.

“No, that’s new,” Akira said, “Why?” He turned back to Peter and felt his fatigue come back in a rush of blue flame and he fell back onto his bed.

Peter came up to him again and knelt down, noting his eyes were back to their usual silver colour before speaking again, “Rest up man, we’ll talk more in the morning.”

Akira weakly nodded and placed his head down, slowly fading back into a deep, dark sleep as Peter pulled out his tools.

Akira’s alarm woke him up a couple of hours later. He wasn’t nearly as exhausted as he was so he pulled himself out of bed to get ready for work. Peter protested but Akira reassured him he was fine and would get through the work day, especially after making himself a coffee. Peter wasn’t completely satisfied but let it go, getting back to working on whatever gadget he was making now.

When Akira got to work he brewed himself another coffee after being told by Elanor he looked like shit. Akira just blamed it on having a long day yesterday.

Friday was one of their busier days. Akira auto-piloted his way through most of it until the after school rush hit and Tim showed up.

Tim looked worse than Akira, he looked like he had been hit by a bus. At least Akira managed to get his hair to sit as it usually did. Tim's hair looked like he had just stepped out of a typhoon. Although with how hard the rain was coming down outside it wasn’t far off.

Speaking of the rain, he still felt the ill cognitive energy in it. It must have been carrying some of that Nyarlathotep guy’s change. Akira figured some of the reason he was off kilter today wasn’t just the Re-Awakening, but the changes that came in the storm.

He had seen that the Meta-Nav had changed. The eye now had a butterfly in it, and the fields had changed around a bit. Name, Ideal, Region. He would have to play around with it later, for now, he walked over to Tim and the two others he had brought in with him.

“Good afternoon, everyone!” Akira smiled, “How are we going?”

“Akira!” Tim smiled back, “We’re doing okay. As good as you can after having an exam.”

Akira fought the frown that came from thinking back to his exam days and then quickly brushed the memories aside. “At least it’s over. Are you guys ready to order?”

“I believe that I have found something satisfactory,” The younger one said. He had black spiky hair and a square posture. Akira remembered him from the press conferences. Damian, the youngest Wayne and Bruce’s only (known) biological child.

Akira figured they looked alike, with deep set eyes, a sharp jaw already coming out in his face, and thin lips. However he had deep olive skin, a downward curving nose and bright green eyes that stood out against the general darkness of his person.

“Which is?” Akira asked, smiling politely. Damian tried to pin him down with his eyes, but Akira didn’t react. It was an annoying thing some people did, but he didn’t flinch at that kind of thing anymore. Daimen seemed slightly put off by it.

“A latte,” Damian pulled his gaze away, “And a peppermint slice... Please.”

Akira nodded and wrote the order down before turning his head to the other one. Duke Thomas, Bruce Wayne’s most recent pick up as far as Akira had discovered.. His dark brown eyes watched Akira and he noticed a light behind them that sparkled interestingly. His hair was buzzed short with two lines shaved in at his temples.

“I’ll have a mocha with caramel slice, thanks.” He said with a strained cheerful note to his voice which was odd.

He moved onto Tim who was having a staring contest with Damian when Akira got his attention. Tim ordered his afternoon usual, double shot cappuccino with a chocolate croissant. Akira confirmed the orders and went to go prepare them as the three began to whisper.

“He looks rough today,” Tim frowned, “Something happened last week that caused him to take time off. I hope he’s not wrapped up in anything.”

“I don’t know,” Duke said, “He’s got a weird aura around him…”

“He’s strong,” Damian noted, “I’m not sure what to make of that.”

“He’s a good guy,” Tim interjected, “At least that’s what I think. But I’m worried about him.”

Akira was touched in a way, knowing that Tim cared about him. They weren’t close. Not at all. But that was something he was working on. Tim was his Magician in this world. Unless Akira just blatantly ignored him there wasn’t really a doubt they would end up pretty good friends.

The three got onto some other topic, something related to school by the sound of it. Now that they weren’t looking at him he flipped his Third Eye on and looked over the group and Duke stood out. His energy was bright and full. Perhaps he should pay attention to him when he got the chance.

That was when Akira caught sight of himself in the metallic reflection on the espresso machine, more specifically he saw his eyes that were slowly turning red as he kept his third eye up. He dropped the hot milk jug, splashing near boiling milk on the ground. The shock of that knocked him out of his Third Eye as he jumped back. Elanor flicked her head towards him as she took an order for a couple.

Akira snapped himself out of it and bowed towards his boss then ducked down to clean it up. He had physically been feeling weird since that morning. Did Nyarlathotep do something to him? He hoped not, but with the new eye thing he was sure it had happened.

He felt awful as he started steaming a new jug of milk. Today was not his day. He was also worried about the residence of the Velvet Room, hoping they were figuring things out but knowing they were hurt. He tried to hold on to that hope.

He finished making the Wayne’s coffees and then pulled their snacks out of the display fridge and delivered them.

“Sorry for the wait,” Akira apologized, “It’s my fault.”

“It’s okay,” Duke said, “We all have off days. Trust me I get it.”

“I’m sure the coffee’s still good,” Tim smiled as his order was placed in front of him, “Just hope you didn’t get burnt or anything.”

Damian huffed in response as he grabbed the handle of his mug. He brought the hot coffee up to his mouth and blew once before taking a sip. Akira waited to see the boy’s reaction. His eyes widened slightly and he took the mug away from his lips, turning it in his hand a bit before trying it again. Akira figured that he was enjoying it.

He went back to the counter to get started on a few more orders. When the Waynes decided it was time to leave, Tim passed him a note after he paid. When he opened it it was his phone number and an invitation to join him and his siblings in the library once his shift was over, just to message beforehand. Akira thought it over for a while before messaging Tim to say he was coming. He figured getting closer to Tim would be nice, and he needed a distraction from his own head for a while.

Unknown Number: Hi Tim, it’s Akira. I’m going to take you up on your offer. See you after 4:30

Tim: Sounds good! See you then Akira

Tim smiled looking down at his phone. He really did want Akira to be his friend, but he also wanted to investigate him, especially with his suspicions that he was the guy Batman saved who did the whole thing with the gun. He had spent some time looking him up in the systems. A Japanese immigrant. High school graduate. But that’s pretty much it. His birth certificate listed him as being born in some rural town he had never heard of but looked pretty peaceful. He had also found a record of him attending high school in Tokyo for a year as opposed to his hometown. Tim didn’t know a lot about his personal life. They never really talked about it. But he wanted to know.

He saved Akira’s contact in his phone as “Barista Bro” and then told Duke, Damian and Barbara that he would be there. They all seemed okay with it, but when Duke and Tim were alone in the back of the library reshelving some books Duke brought it up.

“I’m not sure about this guy,” Duke said, “The energy around him is just weird. I’ve only seen something similar around Constantine, but even then its different. I don’t know. He might not even know something is weird with him, but it’s a worry.”

“Gives us a good reason to keep him close,” Tim said, “If he does have some weird energy I would rather keep an eye on it then let it go. Y’know?”

“I suppose,” Duke responded, “It’s a good point. Keep it in check. But I’m still not sure…”

Tim shrugged, “That’s fair. But I have a good feeling about him.”

Duke turned his head to Tim with a small smirk, “I’ll trust you on that.”

Tim smiled at Duke as he turned to go back to the front. Duke shook his head in amusement as he did.

Damian was helping Barbara with something behind the desk, his small frame tucked in fiddling with some wires. Barbara smiled at Tim as he came back with an empty box of books. It was about 4:40 and Tim was stacking some more books into his box when Akira walked through the doors. He looked around for a second before he saw Tim, smiled, waved and walked over.

Without his apron and general work energy Akira looked pretty casual. Messy hair, big framed glasses. He had traded the apron for an unbuttoned black shirt that went along well with his grey shirt and loose black pants.

“Akira! Glad you could come!” Tim smiled at him.

“Thanks,” Akira said, “Glad I could make it.”

“Is he alright to shadow me, Babs?” Tim turned to ask the woman in question.

“Of course he is,” Barbara smiled, “Good to see you here.”

Akira nodded at her and he and Tim went on their way. They were off into the fiction section. Akira was investigating some of the books while Tim started sacking. There was an awkward energy there for a minute before Akira spoke.

“Why did you invite me out today?” He asked as he placed a book back on the shelf.

Tim shrugged, “You seem like a decent guy and I want to get to know you. You also didn’t seem to be having a great day so I was hoping to help with that.”

Akira didn’t react a whole lot to that, turning his head and rubbing the front bit of his hair together. “I appreciate the concern, but it was just busy at home last night and I didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

“Oh? What was up?” Tim followed, stopping his book stacking and turning to Akira. Akira himself leant up against the wooden shelves and sighed.

“I’m in America on a kind of… sponsorship,” He said, “Basically I just got a bunch of money and a hand in moving. I got some news from the sponsor last night that there was some trouble on their end so I was trying to figure that out. My roommate was also trying to give me a hand with it but he’s not a part of it.”

“Did you figure it out?”

“No,” Akira huffed, “I don’t think I’ll hear from them tonight either. But I can’t do anything about it, it's on their side.”

“That sucks,” Tim frowned, “But a sponsorship to move countries? That's pretty cool. I wish I could do something like that.”

“Why not?” Akira asked, tilting his head in a way that reminded Tim of a cat or a crow.

“I’ve got too much to do here,” Tim said, “Gotham is a busy place, and I managed to make myself an important person. I can’t just leave like that.”

Akira considered this for a moment and then slid down to the ground to sit across from Tim. “If there was anywhere in the whole world you could go, where would it be?” He ended up asking.

Tim thought about it for a moment. He had been nearly everywhere on earth for random missions and the like, but there was always one he wanted to spend more time…

“Greece,” Tim smiled, “So much history just out in the open. I would love to go see it for myself one day. One of Bruce’s close friends is from one of the Greek islands and it would be nice learning some more of her history.”

Akira smiled, “Greece does sound pretty cool. I hope you can go one day.”

“It would be nice to have an actual vacation for once,” Tim laughed, “How about you, anywhere else you would go?”

Akira got a small, wistful smile, “France. Back in Tokyo the cafe I worked at was named after a French author and I really like his books. I would love to get the chance to explore that culture one day.”

“Hell yeah,” Tim chirped, before they both started talking about books they enjoy. Eventually Tim figured they should go back and he should head off.

“You know, now that you have my number,” He noted, “You can get to me at any time for anything. Gotham is a big city, but the Waynes have a pretty good hold. If you want to talk or need a hand with something small in the city, just message.”

“Thank you, Tim,” Akira said, “I’ll be glad to have a friend like you.” With this he titled his head oddly for a second before returning. Once back at the desk everyone said their goodbyes and headed out into the city on their own paths, except Barbara, who turned to her database and began trying to figure Akira Kurusu out.

Reawoken Magician Rank 2!
Wayne Family Aid Rank 1 unlocked. Once a day Trickster is able to ask Tim for a small Wayne Enterprises service, free of charge. Basic Infiltration Tool crafting and Magician Baton Pass now regained.

Akira pushed through the apartment door with a renewed energy after his conversation with Tim. He entered the apartment to the smell of solder and toast. Only one of those things he figured he had correct.

Peter was hanging off the ceiling tinkering with something small, blasting rock music Akira could hear from the hall. He stood across the room from him with his hands on his hips, looking up at Peter.

“Welcome home,” He said through the screwdriver in his mouth, “How was your day?”

“I was dead on my feet for most of it,” Akira sighed, “But getting to spend some time with Tim was good.”

“Yeah you had messaged to say you were going out with him,” Peter muttered as he took the screwdriver and began tightening whatever he was working on, “Was that good? Anything interesting happen?”

“Eh not really,” Akira said, placing his bag down gently, a habit he still had, “Got to know him a bit better though, which is always nice.”

Peter nodded then dropped from the ceiling, holding the small device in his hand up to the light, looking over it carefully.

“Give me your wrist,” He said quickly, pulling out a soft measuring tape.

Akira raised one eyebrow and put his right hand out, Peter then measured the circumference of his wrist, noting it down and then retrieving a small segment of sheet metal he had in his growing collection. Akira figured they should get a set of drawers or something for the tools and materials they were accumulating.

“Why did you need that?” Akira asked as he tried to get a better look at what Peter was working on.

“Well,” Peter said, starting to mark the surface of the silver metal, “You’re a thief, and I’m sure a thief has his tools, but I figured you might like a Parker-Made piece of equipment. Also because I want to repay you in some way for taking me in and being nice to me. So I’m making you a grappling hook.”

Akira was taken aback for a moment. He had noticed his old grappling hook had gone missing at some point, but figured he could get around just fine without it. He also hadn’t asked Peter to do anything for him, he hadn’t expected anything either.

“I’ve been working on it all day,” Peter admitted, “After I saw your outfit and everything I couldn’t help myself. You can say no if you don’t like it or want… it” He must have seen Akira’s slightly sour face.

“No!” Akira jumped,” No. No, I like it. I’m thankful you’re making something like this for me. I just didn’t really think you would, I guess.”

“So you’ll take it?” Peter smirked at him.

“Yes. I will.”

“Good,” Peter returned to his work, “No matter what you do and where, this should work as good if not better than the ones the Bats have. I haven’t exactly gotten to see theirs up close yet or anything but they’re pretty clunky. Proper grappling guns. This is going to be fully wrist mounted and light weight, similar to my Web-Shooters.”

Akira looked at the small tool Peter had set to the side. It was compact, folded in on itself. There was a button that Akira could barely spot on close examination. Peter saw that he was looking over the inch wide device and pressed the button. It unfurled into a small gun with the hook sitting at the end, with the inside spool and retracting mechanics slightly exposed.

Peter placed the grappling hook onto Akira’s wrist, showing him how to use it. The barrel sat between his thumb and pointer finger, with the trigger at the base of his pointer finger. There was a small grip he could hold onto and a trigger guard he could rest his finger on. Peter held it so Akira could fire it.

The hook flew out and latched onto the curtains behind their beds, when Akira took his finger off the trigger it released its hold and retracted. Peter looked quite proud as he took the device back, pressing the button on the back of the device which caused it to fold back in on itself.

“You have work tomorrow,” Peter noted, “Afterwards would you like to give this thing a test ride? You can go into your thief outfit in the real world now, so we can just do stuff in one of the abandoned warehouses by the docks.”

Akira hadn’t really thought about that today. He could just… Go into his Thief outfit at any time. Do things in the real world. He froze at the thought, unsure where to take it.

Peter had gotten back to work, heating the metal band to bend it to shape while Akira tried to figure out a new way forward. He could make public appearances as the leader of the Phantom Thieves, place Calling Cards with less fear of getting caught, roam about as he pleases without his real identity being linked back to him.

His mind wandered as his eyes fell on the Spider-Man mask sitting discarded on Peter’s bedside table. He almost couldn’t believe the thought crossed his mind, becoming a crime fighting vigilante. The kinds he read and watched films about back home. He was in their world now, right? So he could become one. If he wanted.

The thought wasn’t sitting right, but he couldn’t get it out of his head. Even messing around with the new categories in the Metanav wasn’t helping distract him. Peter eventually took a break to cook dinner, saying he had gone out earlier that day to get some stuff to make Akira something his aunt used to make him.

It was a cheese bake kind of thing, with bacon and broccoli in it. Peter had joked it was one of the only ways May had been able to get him to eat vegetables when he was a kid. Akira thought that was charming.

Eventually the two turned in for the night and Akira was met with deep, dark, silence as he drifted off.

The rain had lightened since yesterday, carrying none of the cognitive energy from yesterday. He couldn't, however, escape the feeling that things both inside and outside of him had changed. Summoning his Persona in the real world was one such change, he had also noticed he had become some amount stronger when helping Elanor with some boxes. He didn’t feel super strong or anything, but strong like he would be if he had kept up with his old gymnastics regime.

His step felt lighter, quieter. And his senses were more honed. It was taking some getting used to. The streets felt just a bit louder, and smelt just that bit fouler.

The vigilante idea still danced in his head, haunting his mind as he worked, and the whole way to the place Peter told him to meet him. The rocking of the subway cars did nothing to sooth him, nor did the smell of the abandoned docks. Rotting wood and rust scented the air as Akira navigated the abandoned site, eventually coming to the warehouse he was meeting Peter at.

He rolled the rusting metal door open and found an empty space behind it. The sounds of the door and his footsteps echoed as it closed behind him. Light flooded in from the high up windows on the walls. There was a small amount of industrial debris still remaining in the building but it had mostly been pushed to the side. Akira figured the place had been used by one of the many gangs in Gotham at some point.

He waited around for a few minutes before Peter appeared in his Spider-Man costume, crawling in through a window and dropping down close to Akira.

“Hey man,” The Spider greeted, “You aren’t in your costume? I would have thought you would already be in it.”

“Hey, yeah,” Akira said, “I would be, but I’ve been having this nagging thought…”

“I’m all ears.” Peter said warmly.

“Okay,” Akira took a deep breath before continuing, “I don’t think I want my usual Phantom Thief to be… Out there. At least not in association with you or anything ‘heroic’. That outfit is my symbol of rebellion, of being a thief. And if I want to be out there, I don’t want to be that. Besides, I would like to do some stuff as the leader of the Phantom Thieves where people can see me.”

Peter nods his head along with Akira and speaks up once he stops talking, “I see… But is it that important for today? No one’s around.”

“For now,” Akira said, “But I think I want to do what you do, at least some of the time. I want to go out and help people on the street now that I can.”

Peter inhaled and held his breath for a moment, gears turning in his head. “Would you need to make a new costume? Do you have to be in that mode to use your powers properly?”

“It’s a transformation,” Akira described, “It changes stuff about me. But I know that I can change the way the transformation looks. That is just a default that I happen to like the best. But I’m not sure what I want that to look like.”

“We don’t have to focus on that for now,” Peter shook his head, “We’re here to test something, so just change into your usual rebellious self for now and we’ll figure that out later.” A jovial tone entered his voice.

Akira nodded and was engulfed in blue flame, his regular Thief outfit unfurling from them as the fire quickly died down. He opened his eyes and smirked at Spider-Man, who lifted his head in a motion Akira figured was indicative of a smile.

Peter walked closer to him and held out the grappling hook to Akira, who put his arm out. Peter attached it to Akira’s wrist and checked with him to make sure it was all good. Once they figured out the best place for it on Akira’s wrist Peter started coaching him through using it.

Akir was quick to get into it, being able to control the reel speed of the line, pull himself up and let himself down on the line, and got the hang of swinging quickly. He had a harder time getting the hang of going from one swing to another but with Peter’s help he got it in the end.

In the end Akira and Peter were swinging around the warehouse together in sync, laughing and whooping as they went. Running and jumping and swinging, flying through the air and rolling on the ground. As Akira got comfortable his own personal flairs crept into the movements. Flying through the air and tumbling with the grace of a trained acrobat. Peter was overjoyed to see his friend improving so quickly.

After a few hours their hearts were pounding and their bodies were burning from exertion. They decided to call it there for the time being and make their way home. When Akira returned to his usual attire the grappling hook went with it. Akira offered that he should get something on the way and Peter suggested pizza, noting a spot he saw near their place. They agreed and while Spider-Man swung home, Akira rode the transit lines back and ordered from the place.

It was a local shop, quiet. The only other person in there other than him and the employees was a rough looking tall guy with a white streak at the front of his hair that Akira tried to not look too hard at. The place itself had a retro feel similar to the Batburger place, but more authentic. White tiles slowly turning yellow interspersed with a black check pattern, scuff marks covered the tile flooring as well. Neon signs lit up the place and newspaper cutouts made up most of the wall decoration. THere was also a photo of the owner with Bruce Wayne at some point in the past alongside a boy Akira didn’t recognise from the line up. He assumed that was Jason Todd.

The person at the register called the tall guy by his name but Akira missed it as he tapped a message to Peter on his phone. The tall guy barely paid Akira a glance before he was out with a very delicious smelling pizza in hand. He turned his attention back to the discussion he was having with Peter about the intricacies of New York style pizza. More that Peter was explaining to him while Akira put reactions on his messages to indicate he was following.

Eventually his order was called and Akira took it with a small bow before leaving. He walked home without issue and him and Peter ended up sprawling on the couch to eat.

Tim had stashed a Phantom Thief calling card in his room that he kept pouring over. He had yet to get it out of his head. Perhaps it was the satisfaction of being right, or the feeling of relief he got from Ruthers finally leaving him alone, but the card meant so much to him.

Bruce hadn’t been so thrilled. He was on edge. Tim wasn’t sure what was going on in the big Bat’s head these days, same with Jason. Something had changed a couple of months ago in both of them. It was subtle. On the surface it must have just looked like one of the two’s usual backslides, but that wasn’t it.

Jason had been more aggressive, still not going back to using live rounds over rubber bullets, thankfully, but his fighting style had changed, somehow more aggressive. He was also getting shorter with all of them again. Bruce was more moody, spending more time held up in the cave. Dick had noticed it before Tim, and he speculated that’s why he was spending more time in Bludhaven than usual.

He stared down and past the card, thoughts plaguing him, he missed the door to his room opening as Cass stepped in.

She didn’t say anything, even when Tim noticed her and waved, instead she pulled him up to standing and Tim tried to wiggle out of it as he was pulled into the second floor drawing room.

Steph and Damien were already there, a stack of board games on the table. Seems like they had all been given the night off. Tim chuckled as he sat down for game night.

Akira was sore when he woke up the next day. His whole body was still tired. It was a feeling he was used to, after everything, but it still took him longer than usual to get out of bed. After they had eaten Peter had gone out to do his whole thing, so he was still soundly asleep.

He had already made up his mind that today would be the day he went to explore that new gym he found, and pain be damned he was going to stick to that. Or else he would never make it.

Slowly Akira got ready to leave, dressing in loose fitting active clothing and brewing some coffee. He left with a travel mug in hand, and a mug sitting in the microwave for Peter when he woke up.

It was half an hour away, which Akira didn’t mind. He spent the time checking the current happenings in the city and. Last night it seems there was a major crime by that other “Joker”. There was also news that the “Spider Of Gotham” was spotted there, which seems to be an affectionate nickname given to Spider-Man. It seems like it was mostly cosmetic, multiple powder packages exploding in a small area plunging the streets into a colourful void.

In that time a bank was robbed for all of its cash and the strong boxes had been gone through with valuable items taken. Spidey had apparently been the most effective fighter in the powder covered streets. That Spider-Sense he was talking about seems to be a massive help.

When Akira got off he was in a new part of the city, some of the colour from the previous night seemed to still be lingering in the street. Akira watched the subtle shifts in colour on the ground as he walked. He made it to the gym and pressed the door open.

It was called “Upper Body”, the sign facing the street had an arm holding a weight. It had frosted windows as well with the name painted on one of the panels. When Akira went in he was met with egg white walls, soft carpeted entry and high ceilings. There were two distinct areas past the entry, a raised section with regular gym equipment and a lowered section which was set up for gymnastic training.

“Ho!” A large man greeted from the raised section as Akira stepped up, “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before, so welcome to Upper Body!” The man was tall, built like a true gymnastics professional. At the moment he was shirtless and sweaty, clearly in the middle of a set. He walked down the stairs and to the counter where he met Akira.

“I’m Yohan,” He extended a hand to Akira, “Nice to meet you. Are you here to train?”

Akira took his hand, “I am, yes. My name’s Akira.” They two men shook before Yohan pulled away and put his hands on his hips. Akira was trying not to show how rattled he was by the very firm grip the man had.

“I always know an acrobat when I see one!” He commented, looking over Akira with a smile. He had a large moustache that covered it, which was blended into a close cropped beard.

“Guilty as charged,” Akira laughed, “I was hoping I could use your facilities.”

“I see, I can hear an accent, are you here temporarily?”

“No I’ve moved here” Akira shook his head, “I should be sticking around for a while.”

“To Gotham?” Yohan questioned before shrugging, “I suppose everyone has their reasons to do things. I can offer you our full package membership, which gives you a permanent locker, access to all areas of the gym, and once a week free massage from your truly! You don’t have to take that offer but if you ever need it, I’m here.”

Akira considered it. He wasn’t 100% sure he trusted getting a message from this man, but the rest was pretty good. He confirmed and paid, he was shown to his locker, was given a safety briefing, and then left to his devices. He stretched out and started tumble training. While taking a water break he caught sight of Yohan. He had black Olympic rings across his upper back.

Akira figured he might be worth looking up later because of that. As far as he recalled it was taboo to get those if you weren’t actually an Olympian, so he decided to file that away for research later.

After an hour of training Akira decided to call it there. He went to leave and said goodbye to Yohan who waved at him as he left from the desk. As he stepped out onto the street, pulling his phone out to tell Peter he was on the way home, he didn’t notice anything strange. Not the abnormal amount of men in grey suits, not the way they whispered to each other, or the way they eyed the people around them. He didn’t even see them put on masks and take out guns, not until he was hit in the face with the butt of one.

Peter was sitting at home with the news on the TV, sewing protective padding into his suit. As he was finishing his stitches the news flipped over to a breaking story. The Two Face gang were holding a whole city block hostage. Cars flipped over with men in a standoff with police. The man himself, Two Face, was hidden away in a building in the middle of the street.

Peter swore and rushed to get the piece of padding he was working on functionally attached before getting dressed into his suit and rushing out the window.

Akira had hit the floor and then been shouted at to put his hands behind his head, and then he was dragged over to a group of people and forced to his knees. It took him a while to actually realise what was happening and he started freaking out. His breathing quickened and he was starting to shake.

The men in suits trudged around the pockets of people, all holding some kind of assault rifle. Akira didn’t recognise it.

“M16s,” an old man’s voice mumbled, “Old ones too. Might be ones from the Vietnam war…”

“How do you know that,” A woman hissed, Akira turned his head to listen.

“I own a model weapon shop,” He said, “I know a lot about these things. These ones have wooden parts, which modern ones don’t have. They’ve got some wear on them too. Speaking from a purely practical standpoint, they would be cheap to get. M16s from that war are notorious for malfunctions.”

“Of fucking course,” The woman growled, taking a hand off her head to adjust her large over coat, “Just our luck.”

The chat ended there. Akira turned his attention back to his full surroundings. He was at the edge of his group, uncomfortably close to the patrolling gunmen. He decided keeping his head down was for the best. He heard police cars and helicopters, saw some men take up positions to oppose the cops.

Some brave soul got up from one of the other groups and started running to the blockade, she was barely five meters from where she started when she was gunned down. Some of the men’s guns malfunctioned causing them to get angry. Gasps resounded from the hostages, children began crying and Akira stared at the now dead body of the woman. Her light brown hair was a mess covering her face, blood pouring from her body into the asphalt. Akira took in every detail of her face, her body, her clothes. Blue deep set eyes, a dusting of freckles covered her round cheeks. She wore a dull brown coat and dark brown jeans with matching boots. It took Akira some time before he managed to rip his eyes away from her bloodsoaked form, fighting back tears.

An hour passed, everyone had grown very quiet. Akira’s knees hurt. His heart hadn’t stopped pounding since he was dragged to the group and his arms were tired. Nothing was happening. It was risky business, Akira supposed. Nearly an entire city blocks worth of people being held hostage. Akira had heard some of the henchmen whispering about bombs being placed in buildings in the block.

Akira couldn’t help but feel like something was being set up. Slowly. No one could act. Not the police, not the people, and not the heroes Akira was sure were stalking the area. Peter could be close by and he had no way of getting to him. Everything was going so slow and he couldn’t do anything!

“That’s not true,” Arsène whispered, “You know that.”

Akira shook his head and buried himself further into his own chest. Frustration burned inside him. No one outside could do anything. No one…

Spider-Man sat on a nearby building overlooking the block it was all going down on. He had spotted a few of the Bats taking up spots around as well. Slowly and steadily moving in on their prey.

Peter had tried to count how many men were on guard, but they kept moving in and out of buildings he lost count. It couldn’t have been more than 30 on the move, he thought. More in the buildings. But when they have guns it gets messier. Acting too fast gets people killed. He swung over to a closer building and stuck on the side just below the top of it.

He saw Red Robin and Spoiler on a roof lower, ducked down and talking quietly to each other. On a different roof across the block Signal was keeping an eye on the street. RR noticed him and waved up, causing Spoiler to turn and also wave.

The street itself was a four way intersection, with cars turned over creating a blockade with a few men behind it, starting the police down. There were two cars parked next to each other in the centre. There were five distinct groups of people spread in rough circles around them with about 50 people in each, about 250 on the ground alone. Peter wasn’t sure how to even begin estimating how many people were in the actual buildings. They were lucky it was Sunday and a lot of the businesses were closed.

After a few more minutes of watching he saw Batman himself emerge from the shadows and fling himself into the air with his grappling gun and use his cape to glide to one of the affected buildings and descend through the roof access into it. This was clearly a go for the rest of the Bats and they started to move. Spoiler made an unexpected move and swung up towards him.

She used her own grappling hook to get up and land on the roof above where Spider-Man had perched and lean over with a positive note in her voice, “Nice to see you around Spidey,”

“Nice to see you too,” He laughed and adjusted so he was slightly closer to her.

“I wish we could chat a bit,” She sighed, “But we've got an emergency on our hands. There are bombs planted in those buildings, and they need defusing.”

“Are you asking me if I know how to defuse bombs?” Spidey questioned with a fright.

“No! No,” She exclaimed, “But if you could, it would be nice to know. No, we’ve got some little gadgets that we can use so they can be defused remotely by someone way better at this than me. I was hoping you could take some and help us.”

Spoiler held out a small box, Spider-Man crawled up to take a look, seeing small bug-like devices with tiny tools sitting against the top. He took one out and turned it over seeing the characteristic dark colouring associated with the Bats, metallic paint catching on the light.

“Do these actually work?” Spider-man turned it over in his hand.

“Yep!” Spoiler smiled, “Our own in-house computer gal is connected to them and she is the one who controls them to defuse these bombs. From what Robin reported they’re nothing too fancy, and typical of Two-Face’s activities. There's just a lot of them.”

“I can help,” Spider-Man shrugged, “But I will be sticking around the first one I place to see it work.” He webbed the box to this side and secured it.

“Hey, fair enough,” Spoiler stuck her hands up in a faux surrender, “I understand not trusting that. Once you do one building move onto another and keep going around the block until you see one of us confirming all of them are done.”

“Can do,” Spider-man nodded and set to leap from the building, “Keep up!” He laughed and shot into a dive, only swinging once the shadows of the sky scrapers covered him until he found himself on the back of a building with openable windows that was on the block. He honed in his sense to center in on where the bombs might be and crawled into a window near the top floor.

He rolled onto the carpeted floor finding himself in an empty apartment, dust flew off the ground when he hit and from his footsteps as he got up and moved slowly to the door. He could feel the slight buzz of his danger sense and took a deep breath.

Spider-Man kicked the door in and leapt to the roof, webbing the guns of the two men in the hall who called out in surprise as he entered. Spider-Man then crawled across the cleaning to the one closest to the stairs and dropped onto him and bashed his head into the ground, knocking him out. He back flipped towards the other man and took a few steps backwards to keep his momentum then turned into a kick, landing it against the side of his head and causing the man to fly into wall. Following through on the motion to come to a natural stop before webbing him to the spot and covering his mouth.

“Geez you guys are really bad at this,” Spider-Man said as he webbed the other one and walked to the apartment the bomb was in, slamming his shoulder into the door to knock it open.

Inside he saw a simple pipe bomb set up. It was sat on the ground, a mess of wires tangled around it. It was rather underwhelming. He opened the box at his side and pulled out one of the bugs, pressing a small button on the back of it.

The bug sprung to life, emitting a small pinging sound for a second before jumping from his hands. It scuttered over to the bomb and got to work. Peter jumped up and stuck to the roof, watching it work. It crawled over, using a small set of scissors on its back to cut wires until it deactivated. Then the bug crawled away and blew itself up.

Peter nodded and dropped down, descending down the stairs to find the next bomb in the building. He got into a pattern quickly, take out the guys around the bombs, web them up, and drop an activated bug down and left for the next. He did that until the building was clear. He crawled out the back window to move to the next to start the process again.

After he cleared his second building within ten minutes he looked down into the groups of people, looking over their faces. His breath caught as he recognised the mop of black hair that was…

Akira. Tim quickly noticed that Akira was down in one of the groups of people. He froze half way up onto the edge of a building staring. He saw Spider-Man looking down at the groups too. Tim swore under his breath and moved on. They had to be quick.

He descended into the next building through the fire escape. Pressing his ear against every door to listen for the men guarding them. He found it a quarter of the way down the hall and wasted no time kicking it in, barely giving them enough time to react before he was swinging his staff into their heads. He used the momentum of the swing to turn into a kick and sent one of the guys towards the other. He raced at them and drop-kicked them into each other. They landed hard and it gave Tim enough time to cuff the hands of one of them.

The other was quick and picked his gun back up, Tim saw this, grabbed it and held it away from himself and quickly forced his hand off the trigger, throwing the gun across the room. Tim then elbowed him in the face and cuffed him.

He dropped a new bug and left.

There were five bombs in each building, usually with a couple of floors between them. It was slow going because he still had to check each floor to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. They didn’t have time for this, Two-Face was going to start doing whatever he had set up soon and they needed to be close to done by then.

He moved through the building in a similar fashion, slowly trying to find where the bombs were and moving on quickly. When he ascended back up to the rooftops he looked down and saw Akira again, looking up directly at him. He moved quickly to the next building.

Akira watched Red Robin hop across the building and drop down into a hatch he opened. By then it had been close to two hours and nothing had happened. He gritted his teeth and looked around. People were starting to look bored, and he supposed that stuff like this was common in Gotham. If it takes to long it would loose its spark pretty quickly, even with the dead body in the square. Light brown hair, blue eyes, tan with freckles, brown jacket and matching boots.

That still seemed to put people off, they avoided looking at it. And Akira couldn’t help but do the same. This was fucked, that was all he could think. Fucked. He sat there for another gruelling ten minutes until the leader of this group made his appearance.

A man in a two coloured suit walked out of a nearby building, one side the same grey pinstripe as the henchmen, the other a deep navy with white stripes. His undershirt was similarly split down the middle, the grey side was pale blue and the navy a similarly toned green. Half of his face was scared and disfigured into a permanent snarl, patchy white hair growing from his scalp. The other half wasn’t scared, brown hair growing evenly across it. Akira recognised the man as Two-Face, and he felt the fire in his chest burn brighter.

Harvey Dent was an ambiguous figure, with his early life was poorly documented and in Akira’s research he didn’t find much, but his legal career was so deeply archived it was hard to miss it. Probably because of his turn to villany.

Two-Face was flipping a coin in his hand as he walked through the intersection, looking around at the people he was holding. Four of his men stood around him, guns held tightly in their hands as they walked. They climbed up onto the cars that sat in the centre, converting them into a twisted stage as the man cleared his throat.

He didn’t speak, instead he walked around looking down at every group, coin still in hand. He did a couple of laps, eyes off the police surrounding the scene as well. He went slowly, as though aware that no one would move to stop him. Not yet anyway. After a couple of minutes he stopped his pace and raised his arms.

“You are all here for a game of Fate,” He called, voice echoing out over the people, “Let’s see how this goes.”

He turned to the group next to Akira’s and flipped his coin, watching it spin in the air before catching it and placing it on the back of his left hand, his scarred side. He looked down at it and shook his head, turning to Akira’s group, reflipping the coin. Everyone in the group’s breath caught as it spun through the air before he caught it coming down, placing it once again on his left hand. He looked at it indifferently then lifted his head up and placed his eyes on a person in the cluster.

“You,” He said and pointed at them, “Get up here.” The person who stood was young, about Akira’s age, he had a choppy dirty blond mullet. He staggered over people to get out of the group and then trudged over to the cars, being dragged up onto it by Two-Face’s henchmen.

“Call it in the air,” Two-Face announced and once again flipped his coin.

“Wh-what? Huh? Uh… Heads! Heads!” The boy panicked, not even watching the coin, looking at Two-Face desperately. He breathed heavily as the coin was placed on the villain’s hand and looked.

“Good guess,” Two-Face mused, “Now, pick a building.”

“Pick a building?” He stammered, looking around the intersection, “Any?”

“Any within the boundary,” Two-Face confirmed, “Just pick, don’t want to hold everyone up longer than necessary, do we?”

The boy shook his head, turning to look around, eventually pointing at the building on the northwestern corner, mumbling out something Akira didn’t catch.

Two-Face nodded to a gang member at the doors who nodded and pulled out a walkie talkie, saying something into it and waited. Turning back to Two-Face he shook his head and the man groaned.

“Blow it anyway,” He called, and the menchmen did as he was told, pulling out a detonator from inside his jacket and pressing the button, but nothing happened. He pressed it again and then again but still nothing happened.

“Fate is on their side!” Two-Face called, pushing the boy away from him, “Get back to your group. Don’t try and run, you’ll just get killed.”

The boy nodded and scrambled off the roof and back to the edge of Akira’s group, tears in his eyes.

Akira felt sick to his stomach. That's what this was? A game of fate? He was sick of those, sick of people imposing their will like this onto people. THis wasn’t true fate, but a set up. Rage flared in his chest and Arsène bristled in his mind.

He had turned to the next group and pulled another member up, but Akira was distracted. Power nagged at him, anger and rebellion pooling in his chest. He watched as the older man, blading and wrinkled, got what face it would be wrong. He was pushed to the ground by Two-Face and one of his men came up behind him, placing the muzzle of the rifle on the back of his head. He pulled the trigger and everyone but Akira flinched away.

The gun jolted but nothing came out, the man pulled the trigger again but it was jammed. He pulled it back to try and fix it but Two-Face shook his head.

“This man has won his life,” He said, “Let him go.”

“Th-thank you,” The man gushed, reaching out to the villain.

“Don’t thank me,” Two-Face slapped his hands away, “Thank fate. Now go.”

The man nodded weakly and crawled off the roof, rushing back to re-join his group. It was fate when he got to live, but not when the girl died? Light brown hair, blue eyes, tan with freckles, brown jacket and matching boots. Did she not deserve the same chance because she tried to run? Akira’s blood boiled, and the world stood still…

“That’s enough Two-Face!” A deep, growly, voice called. Batman landed before the cars, staring up at the split-coloured villain. Two-Face turned to him, a smile creeping onto his non-scared half. All of the gang members turned their guns on the vigilante.

“Batman! You’re just in time!” He cried, “The game was only beginning, and you can watch as it unfolds!” He drew out a long barreled revolver from his back and aimed it at the Bat.

“I don't think so,” Batman growled and he launched himself towards Two-Face.

“Do not lose your drive in the face of being held,” Arsène affirmed, his spectral shape “Take that anger and fight, you know how. You just have to accept the call.”

Time moved again but Akira was separate, he himself seemed to be in a spectral state, a true Phantom among the people. Batman landed but Akira could not hear him. Instead he stood, looking around at the people, at the dead girl laying in the street, her body no doubt cold by now.

He had to do something. He could do something. Silent understanding passed between him and his other self. Around them the world moved, Red Robin, Spoiler, Signal, Robin, and Spider-Man rushed, taking down henchmen and protecting people. Civilians ran to get to the other side of the blockade and away. He needed to help.

As Two-Face grabbed a person running past him, Akira ran for the cars, jumping onto the hood and then the roof, grabbing Arsène’s hand, blue flame taking him over as his Persona folded around him, launching him up into the air where he passed into reality again…

Red Robin rappelled down into the intersection, running and punching a man who was desperately trying to set off the bombs with his detonator. He fell to the ground and reached for his gun but RR kicked him in the face, then again across his head. The man wasn’t moving but was still breathing so RR took that as a win and moved on, launching himself at a man taking aim on the now running public. He saw Spider-man doing the same thing across the road, taking on a few at a time.

The whole area was in chaos, police couldn’t move in because of the hostages making a break for it, guns were jamming or otherwise failing on mass in Two-Face’s ranks and the ones that did fire were having a hard time hitting marks. It was loud and messy. Batman was locked in a fight with Harvey in the centre, trying his best to keep him close.

RR took people out and kept moving, pushing his way through the crowd still leaving the area. He caught sight of Robin giving some first aid to someone who had gotten shot in the leg and Signal using his powers to flashbang gunsmen. Spoiler had disappeared into a building to help evacuate people.

He grappled with a man before he got him into a chokehold, feeling him go limp in his arms and dropping him on the ground. As he went to fight another henchman he saw Two-Face take hold of a person and place his revolver against their head. They cried out and started tearing up as Batman stopped himself midrun. Both Red Robin and Batman stood still watching, a red flash burst out above Two-Face.

A dark grey mass fell from the sky and landed on Two-Face, he let go of his new hostage and Batman rushed in to pull them away. The dark grey mass, now clearly a new person in this fight, rolled away from Two-Face as he stood back up. The new fighter was crouched with one hand on the ground, ready to rush at him again.

Before RR could take him in he was gone in a flash of red and black energy, appearing again a second later in a spinning kick launched at Two-face, hitting the right side of his face and landing in a slide. In another flash he was gone again like a ghost, reappearing to kick the staggered Two-Face in the back of his head.

Batman ran in and punched Two-Face across his left side, then landing an uppercut into his right cheek. At the same time the new fighter appeared again and hit low, causing the villain to stumble.

The two danced around the villain in a flurry, Batman staying steady in his hit to put Two-Face down, and the new fighter going to destabilise him. It wasn’t long until Two-Face was on the ground, and the new fighter stepped away to lep Batman deal with him.

Red Robin finally got a good look at him. He had black hair pushed up off his face revealing a darker black domino mask covering his eyes with small golden triangles pointing out from his eyes, one on top and one on bottom on each. White lenses covered his actual eyes.
He wore a dark grey shirt that went into gloves, red lines came out from his middle and ring fingers, going all the way up to his shoulders on both sides. There they descended into a cross, meeting and going over top of each other on the right side of his chest leaving his left exposed. Golden lining ran up the center and across the top of the collar that went up to his mid neck. Two extra gold lines followed it across both sides of his chest, bending around the base of his neck and running down the back.

The lines wrapped around on his back, meeting again on his right side and back up to his shoulders. The gold lining from the sides of his chest ran down onto two tails that fell from the back of the cross. The tails stopped at his mid shins. From where his shirt ended at his waist he had brown pants, which were stuffed in at his thighs by wide boots with similar golden lines running down the center. The sharp heels of his boots were also gold.

The new fighter stood with a slight slump in his shoulders, and he wasn’t there long before he disappeared in a flash again, the flash itself resembling an X. He reappeared and started fighting Two-face’s gang, which reminded Red Robin of why he was there. He joined in on the fighting, deciding to study this new guy later.

It wasn’t long until Two-Face and his gang were all tied up or knocked out and piled up for the police to take care of them. The new guy was breathing heavily, and seemed a little unsteady on his feet. Bent over with his hands on his knees. Red Robin followed Batman as he walked over to him.

“So,” The Big Bat growled, “Are you another new vigilante?” He stood square over him.

“I can be if you want me to be,” He smirked through his panting.

Batman grunted, “We’ll see how you go, you did well out there.”

“Thanks,” He puffed, before dragging himself up to fully standing, “It was my first time.”

“First time?” Red Robin cut in, “You seemed to have a really good handle on it,”

“I’m glad it seemed that way,” He laughed, “Even that power is new. At least I looked put together."

Batman let out a mildly impressed humpf before turning on his heel and walking away, walking towards the officers.

“He’s a man of few words,” Red Robin shook his head at Batman before turning back to their new ally, “Don’t take it personally, he’s just like that. You did well, seriously. Can’t imagine how scary that must have been for a first-timer.”

The new guy rocked his head from side to side in a mildly sarcastic thinking motion before speaking. “I’m sure it’ll probably feel way different once the adrenaline wears off, but even then I’m beat.”

“Don’t let me keep you,” Red Robin shrugged, “Spoiler and Robin have already headed off, I’m sure we’ll get more of a chance to talk later.”

“Yeah… I’m sure we will,” He said with a smile. Red Robin smiled back. The new guy said goodbye, and shot out a hook from his wrist and disappeared as he shot into the air.

RR decided he should also bounce and let the police do their thing, launching himself up onto the rooftops. He looked down trying to see if he could spot Akira, making the rounds. He spotted him making his way down and away from the scene. At least he was safe and uninjured, he thought as he turned his course to the Bat Cave.

Akira ripped through the new realm of unreality he found himself in and over some building, bringing Arsène to his side to cushion his fall. He hit the ground and felt tiredness rush through him. The new outfit he had manifested burning off him in blue embers. He reentered reality and left, walking home. Sorting through his thoughts on his walk home.

“A new vigilante made his debut today during this fight, one who people are calling ‘Red X’ due to an aspect of his costume. He seems to be a new Meta vigilante, joining Signal as now the only two powered ones in this city. We’ll report any developments with him as he comes, but that’s all on the Two-Face attack today, now, onto the weather.”

Chapter Text

Akira pushed through into the apartment, ignoring the noise from the TV. He was tired. His body was heavy and his legs barely cooperated as he dragged himself to the couch. He fell onto it with a huff, feeling his body and soul screaming at him.

He lent forward with his elbows on his knees. He really had just… Done that. He fought a real, on the street, villain. He felt like throwing up but he wasn’t sure why. He abandoned his glasses on the coffee table and rubbed his eyes.

The new power he had, to go into some kind of other reality at will, was very tiring. It took energy that he quite frankly did not have. He was running off fumes at the end there. Leaning back he sighed, closing his eyes and willing for sleep that did not come. Instead, he heard the window open up and Peter set down. He swore mentally before opening his eyes and looking at his friend, who pulled his mask off.

“Dude!” He exclaimed, starting to pace in excitement, “There were all these bombs, and the bats have a little remote controlled bug that can defuse them! That's so cool! Whoever was controlling it is really good. When they were all defused we hopped in for a fight and there was a new guy! He was all ‘Woosh!’ and disappearing and stuff! And he-”

“I know,” Akira held up a hand and felt an amused smile creep onto his face, “I was there, y’know. I know you saw me.”

“Oh,” Peter paused in his pacing, “Yeah, that's true. But it was so cool! I have never done anything like that! And the new guy-”

“Is me,” Akira smirked, watching as Peter’s brain caught up to what was said.

“WHAT!” Peter yelled before clamping a hand over his mouth, “What?” He asked at a lower volume, a smile spreading further than Akira thought possible across his face.

“Yep~” Akira said smugly, “If I wasn’t dead tired from it I would show you… But I could pass out right now. I am more than happy where I am.”

Peter started looking giddy, bouncing in excitement with stars in his eyes. “You were so cool today! What was that power, have you always had it? And the new outfit? So cool!”

Akira rubbed the bridge of his nose, and when he looked up Peter was sitting next to him on the couch. An excitement that brought him back to his Tokyo days. He let out a chuckling sigh and smiled, “One question at a time, man. I’m already exhausted. But anyway, that power was new. I’ve never been able to… Leave like that. It was like I was taking a step back, looking over everything but not in it. But being there was draining my energy. I went way too hard today…”

“Let’s test it when you’re up for it!” Peter stood and put his hands on his hips, “Doesn’t have to be today, or tomorrow. Just when you’re ready. Rest up for the night!”

Akira nodded and watched Peter go over to the table and pull off his webshooters as another wave of exhaustion washed over him. He shook his head and laid down on the couch. Feeling the pull towards unconsciousness, Akira closed his eyes and drifted off…

Tim pulled his mask off as he walked into the main area of the Bat Cave, running a hand through his hair and shaking his bangs out. Sweat and mist clung to his suit as he pulled his gloves off. It was always misty over the bay this time of year and made it hard to stay dry.

The first thing he did was look online for anything recorded of the fight on his laptop. That new vigilante that showed up, that's what he was looking for. A new project, Tim though, something to occupy his mind for the time being.

There were a few videos already up so he watched them. And he watched them again. And again. A popular video decided to call him “Red X” due to the cross on his costume and the name seemed to be spreading quickly.

He watched closely as “Red X” danced around Two Face. Disappearing and reappearing around the fight. He moved gracefully but his hand to hand fighting was unrefined. Definitely new.

“Two new vigilantes in such a short period of time,” Bruce said and Tim jumped, having not noticed him, “Both with powers and similar colour schemes. What do you make of it?”

Tim hadn’t made much of a connection between Spider-Man and “Red X” because they hadn’t interacted after the fight. But it was unusual. As well as the Phantom Thieves taking to the stage…

“It is strange,” He frowned, “But a connection isn’t that far out. With how close the two debuted as well I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Bruce nodded as he sat at the Bat Computer, wiggling the mouse to wake it up. Tim took the time to bundle up a bunch of links and send them over. Bruce quietly perused them, an evaluating look in his eyes as he traced the movements of “Red X”. Tim tried not to watch too hard, Bruce preferred to work uninterrupted and in relative quiet. So Tim busied himself with some other outstanding task on his list and waited for Bruce to speak up.

Diamen had sauntered down into the cave at some point, Tim could hear him in the training area, and Duke soon after followed. He had sat his helmet down on the work bench and retrieved a set of tools. Taking a peak Tim saw a large mark across the bright yellow plating. Bruce was more willing to let Duke touch his own gear then most of the rest of them. Mostly because Duke functioned more on his own than in the full team. Tim still felt a little jealous.

“He’s far less capable than Spider-Man,” Bruce announced, “More unsure of the whole fighting thing. Less experience or training than the Spider has. But he’s determined, and strong. We’ll let him stick around for the time being, but if he starts getting in the way I’ll stop him."

The words were final, and Tim suppressed the crawling on his neck. Bruce stood from his chair and disappeared deeper into the cave, saying as he left “Red X, let’s see how long that sticks around.”

Duke looked up from the workbench and watched Bruce as he descended. The workshop was on the middle level with the computers. Most of the support and tech equipment was down here. The upper level held the training grounds and medical bay. The lower level was the main mechanic bay. Cars and motorcycles all parked, some hoisted up on chains to be worked on in time. Bruce’s collection stood scattered about, the large penny taking up an unruly amount of space on the slimmer middle level, and the t-rex posed alongside older Bat Mobiles.

Tim stared at the now empty space on the stairs where Bruce had disappeared and then looked up at the high ceiling of the cave. The dark shapes of bats shuffled about among the stalactites. They seemed to be unsettled or disturbed by something, more active than usual for this time of day. He turned back to his work when a thought pierced his mind like a spear.

He should message Akira. Just a casual “How are you?” kind of thing. But really he wanted to check in on the guy after getting wrapped up in Two-Face’s attack today. His heart ached for a reason he couldn’t quite pin down. He simply sent a “How has your day been?” before turning his phone’s face down on the desk and getting back to work. Report writing about Two-Face, suppressing the anticipation of getting a message back.

A quiet whistling wind brushed Akira’s ears as his eyes fluttered open. He felt the weight of the cognitive world against his body as he got his bearings. He sat up and stared down at his prisoner garb, against an unfamiliar bed. A pale blue light illuminated from all around and when he looked up he was met with silver bars. A cage.

His cage sat on the edge of a crumbling platform. The cobblestones making up the floor scattered out in the cosmic blue void all around, and lifted up into the air even in the more solid center. Sitting atop the stones was a familiar dark wooden desk, and a familiar old man sitting behind it. His ink and quill floated lightly above it, alongside some loose paper and the other usual items. Lavenza sat on the edge of it, looking at Akira with a tiled head.

There were others around, strangers, some with the same white hair and yellow eyes of Lavenza, a woman with white streaks in her swept hair stood in the arms of a blindfolded man, and a woman with dark hair Akira vaguely recognised. They all looked dejected, or angry. But all eyes soon turned to him as he stood from the bed and dragged his ball and chain to the door of the cage.

“Trickster,” Igor said, his smile not reaching his eyes and a tiredness in his voice, “It has been an eventful few days. What you see now is all that’s left of the Velvet Room…” Akira frowned in response. A few objects he recognised floated in the blue void, the execution devices mostly. Cosmic currents ran around the small space in the collective unconsciousness, made of small yellow lights that glinted in the blue like stars.

“What happened?” Akira asked, recentering his gaze on Igor, his brow knitting itself into a knot.

“We were attacked,” He uttered, “A bold move from Nyarlathotep. He has not shown his face in a long time. And now he seeks to see if you can stave off his destruction.” Igor set his head in one of his hands and shook his head before dropping his hand once more.

“He has done such things in the past, but centering his focus onto a new world wasn’t expected. I apologise, Trickster, for not informing you of his involvement as soon as you were summoned into this, it should have been made known to you. But I had been hoping he would take a back seat in all of this.”

Akira didn’t respond, instead tightening his grip on the bars of his cave, steel determination flaring in his chest. Igor’s smile finally reached his eyes looking upon this. A light laugh echoed out from the void, amused and smiled out. A yellow butterfly fluttered out from the currents and shone brilliantly.

From the light a man stood. Long black hair tied back, a yellow butterfly mask covering all but his smiling mouth, dead white eye coverings stared into nothing. He wore an open suit jacket over a pair of dress pants and turtle neck. Akira was slightly unsettled by how similarly he dressed to this new mystery man. His head turned towards Igor, then regarded the rest of the Velvet ensemble.

“You all seem so down,” The smiling voice said, “Despite the determination of this Trickster before us! What a sorry state…” He shook his head then faced Akira again. He was appraising him.

“Master Philemon,” A white curly haired woman took a step forward. Her jacket-dress swished as she boldly looked at him.

“Margaret,” Philemon softened, “This must have been quite the fright for all of you, I’m sorry I couldn’t intervene sooner. I hadn’t expected him to take such a drastic move…”

The woman residing in the blindfolded man’s arms spoke up next, a clear voice Akira recognised as the singer always in the background. “No one could have known. You got here just in time to keep it from completely falling apart.”

Philemon’s mouth tightened into a line for a moment before he spoke. “Belladona, Nameless… You two have been with me for so long. Your words mean a lot. Thank you.”

“Philemon,” Igor smiled, “It is good to see you again, old friend. Would you like to introduce yourself to our current guest?”

“Oh! Yes!” Philemon laughed and bowed his head to Akira. “I am Philemon, I dwell within the rift between consciousness and unconsciousness. I am the original creator of the Velvet Room, but I don’t often involve myself in their dealings anymore. But it seems my aid is necessary. And we’ll need your help in more than just taking down Nyarlathotep. This place has been made unstable, and through the fostering of your new connections and belief in your mission, I believe you can help us rebuild it.”

Akira met the man with a sceptical look, but remembered the yellow light from the other night and relented. The ensemble seemed more at ease in his presence, and Igor greeted him fondly.

“I’ll do what I can,” Akira nodded, grip on the bars loosening.

“Congradulations are also in order,” Lavenza smiled, hopping off her spot on the desk, where Philemon sat on the other side of it, “You have awoken your power in the real world, and have new ways of bringing people over to your side. It is quite the feat. You should be proud.”

Akira preened as a smile crept to his face, and Philemon met it.

“Yes,” Igor interjected, “But do not become complacent. You still have a job to do.” Akira nodded in response, and Igor sat back in his chair.

“It seems in time you’ll come to meet the attendants here,” The sound of a wind chime broke through the air and Akira turned his head, seeing it tied to the top of his cage, “But that’s all we have time for tonight. We shall see you again soon.”

Akira felt himself fading and turned back to the bed, and drifted back into consciousness.

Peter had thrown a blanket over Akira and started looking at his web-shooters. He was working on their power output today, they were just that bit slower then what he was used to and it was messing with his muscle memory. After the fight today he put off going on patrol for the night, choosing to stay at home and rest.

He got up to stretch at some stage and change out of his suit. The sun was setting over the city and the red, hazy, light filtered in through the window, painting the small apartment its hue. Peter found himself standing by the window in the living area looking out onto the street. Cars passed and people rushed about in the dimming light of the day, heads down and avoidant, more so than when he arrived he thought, but brushed it off to just him paying it more mind now. He turned back to his main tools, and set back to work.

It was a couple of hours past nightfall when he heard Akira finally stir. He slowly lifted himself as Peter continued playing with the components inside his web-shooters responsible for its power. Akira rolled his neck out and stood to get a glass of water as the webbing triggered and shot out towards the sleeping area’s wall. Peter felt a satisfied smile creep onto his face seeing the speed and Akira turned to him.

“Whatever you were doing,” He commented, “It looks like it went well.”

Peter nodded and flicked the web with his finger, watching it reverberate. “Its a lot closer to what I want it to be. How was your nap?”

“I feel more at ease,” Akira shrugged, “My benefactors are still around, if in a worse spot then they were. Other than that I feel a little rested, but my neck is killing me.”

“Couch naps always sound like a good idea until you wake up,” Peter laughed and cut the web, “What are you feeling for dinner?”

“Order something?” Akira offered, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Sounds good to me,” Peter confirmed and turned back to reassembling his web-shooters as Akira figured out what dinner was going to be. Peter heard his phone buzz and he tapped the screen to check what it was.

New Vigilantee, that the Internet is calling “Red X”, makes his debut!

Peter opened the article to give it a read, it was just published by the reporter he saved his first night out. He ended up following her page after she wrote about that night. She specialised in covering strange and unusual events in the city and the super heroes. She was very good at what she did, quick on changes in the city’s landscape.

Raina Essell. That’s her name. She seemed excited about all the new activity, but also worried about it. And by a lot of posts he’d seen online that was the general reaction at the moment…

Peter turned to his scrap pile, pulling out some small pieces. He wanted to make some of the utility he was used to, and some web-bombs seemed like the perfect place to start. He started drawing some shapes into the metal as Akira slid his phone into his periphery to pick something to eat and wandered back to the couch, turning the volume up to listen to the news talking about today.

Peter finished on the shape he was on and took the phone to place his order then tossed it on the couch next to Akira who took it. The night was quiet from then on, with Akira going down to grab their food and dropping Peter's order next to him.

Peter finished his first prototype web-bomb as the clock was ticking past midnight. Akira had long since moved under his covers as Peter appraised his work. The metalworking needed work, and the cuts were jagged and unsure, and he really needed a real welding set up that didn’t involve him hanging halfway out the window, but it was done. He just had to wait for a time to test it

As he wound down from working he remembered the card he found and pulled it out from his stash. “Mr. N”. He ran his thumb over the marking of the name, frowning. He turned to the internet, but his searches kept asking if he was looking for “Mr. A”, which he was not. He specified the search by adding “Gotham” but still found next to nothing, aside from one other account of finding a similar card in a drug drop that the police intercepted. Peter didn’t really enjoy the implications of GCPD officers posting to online forums to get help on what “Mr. N” could be.

The post was only from a few days ago, and there was pretty much nothing except people clowning on the officer for posting about it, which Peter felt was justified.

He replaced the card and slid into bed quietly. Some new crime lord setting up, or an established one trying to throw off scents with a new name. Split attention on these two possibilities accompanied him to sleep that night, leading him into an uneasy rest.

Akira tapped the side of his phone looking down at the blank fields in the Metanav.

He spent most of the previous night after waking up researching Two-Face a bit more in-depth then he had on his initial familiarisation with the local villains. Harvey Dent was a district attorney who had a decent reputation for his early career, but he deteriorated quite rapidly. He worked with Batman in his early days, but that seemed to be what caused his eventual downfall.

With a declining mental state the stress of the Holiday Killer case and him getting acid thrown on his face caused him to break. He became Two-Face truly after this but his long time friend Bruce Wayne had alluded to there being signs long before in some of his more lucid interviews and public appearances.

Overall, a strong contender to be his next target. But he was weary of throwing himself into a new setting without a full team. He was waiting for an opportunity to gain another confidant, but he wanted to fill in all required info while his research was fresh in his mind.

This new interface was a bit more specialised, with it only accepting “Two-Face" as an option, not Harvey Dent, which Akira noted after a brief spell of anger that Harvey could possibly not have his own pocket cognition.

He was onto the location, or region as it was now called, which was proving difficult, because trying to figure out what that actually meant in a city like Gotham was impossible. There were about 5 different ways to classify every area of the city and he couldn’t find any kind of real information on where Two-Face likes to hang out.

He put his phone away as he heard Elanore walking towards the front of the store again and started pretending to clean the coffee machine. She was none the wiser and seemed happy that Akira was taking on the “time to lean, time to clean" mantra. He was not taking it in and in fact was not a fan of it but he didn’t feel like seeing her upset at him in any way today.

As the after school crowd rolled in Fin happily entered the cafe with some of her school friends, who took up the farthest booth from the counter they could and chatted. It was nice when they came in, as it livened up the place a lot, and Eleanor really liked looking after her daughter’s friends.

He moved to clean a table close to them after some other customers left and decided to listen in on their conversation.

“There are a bunch of new photos from the Two-Face attack yesterday,” The scruffy dark haired guy said, “I don’t think he’s gone that all out before, with what the resorts are saying at least. There were actual bombs in all of those buildings.”

“God, I hate the financial district for that reason,” The tall girl shook her head, “Its where they go to do big shit like that.”

“Its considered relatively safe and then shit like that happens," Blond nerdy guy spoke up, “Dad’s shop is only a block away from where it happened, like I’m sorry, when bank robberies and massive super crimes are happening on the regular there it really shouldn’t be considered safe at all.”

“Safe for Gotham is not actually safe,” Fin scoffed, “Besides, your privileged ass is so focused on your area when like, it's mostly bank robberies and a super crime every month or so. One of the shops down the street got robbed a couple nights ago and at least two others had their windows broken in the last few days as well. I fuckin’ wish all we had to worry about is which bank to avoid that week.”

“The main reason people don’t fuck with the finacial district is becasue cops are crawling all over it,” Fin’s brother cut in. Akira hadn’t really met him yet, just been around. He was struggling to remember his name… “The rich assholes have those pigs wrapped around their fingers. Funding their inane programs and task forces. I suppose with the cops being one of the only non-Wayne funded things in this city they need to turn to others.”

“They’re not 100% non-funded,” scruffy boy cut in, “WE just don't fund their task forces and weapons programs, but they do send money towards a lot of the infrastructure around keeping them up and running.”

“Honestly,” Fin shrugged, "If I hadn’t met the guy, I wouldn’t believe Bruce was capable of even making financial decisions, but he's the one at the head of it. In this city you would be stupid to deny that cops have any value, but the actual system is super fucked.”

“Thats all anyone can do,” A composed girl said as she pushed brown hair over her shoulder, “But seriously, Two-Face has been moving around back into the legal district and it's been really annoying.”

“Oh yeah,” the tall girl said, “You’re still dealing with that asshole, huh.”

The composed girl nodded, “Yeah, and I don’t need that man putting my court room into lockdown! If it gets dragged out any longer than necessary I’m gonna kill someone.”

“Isn’t his primary haunt the eastern docks?” The blond nerd spoke up, “I remember after the Bats busted him last time they had to chase the gang out of the area.”

Fin’s brother nodded, “I do remember that. But he’s probably moving back in.”

“I can’t help but feel bad for the guy,” the tall girl frowns, “Going from one of Batman’s closest allies to a crazy gangster… What a fall.”

Akira might have lingered around for too long, having moved to clean another nearby table. But he got some good information from them. He moved back to his station at the till and started serving customers until it was time to knock off.

Tim laid with his laptop in the family’s most used living room. Duke and Steph were both not staying at the manor at the moment so it was just him and the family. Damian had some reality show going on the TV. Alfred had left a plate of fruit on the coffee table that Tim was slowly devouring as he was compiling some of the information they had on Ruthers at the moment.

Last night Red Hood had shot off in some fit of rage at a warehouse one of Ruthers’ business buddies had been storing a bunch of art in. He had bought a lot of paintings over the years and just kept them as non-liquid assets. Now as his company fell apart around him in wake of the financial ring’s exposure, Jason decided he should take back the art.

Tim didn’t know where it was or what he planned to do with it yet, and he wasn’t keen on learning soon. But he had some of the names and artists that had been found in the piles of covered canvases.

Art was just one method corrupt individuals use to launder money, Bruce was currently tracking a lot of locations in the city that had been involved in passing money between these people, and alerting Justice League members if they were found to lead out to their areas.

For now Tim was just keeping all the info in line and making sure it was getting to the right people at the right time. He had just made a list of buildings in Metropolis that had been fronts for this and sent it to the Kents.

As Tim tapped out a set of reports for Green Arrow, Damian's dog Titus lumbered over to the couch and with little consideration jumped up into the small space between Tim's feet and Damian's legs, then promptly curled his massive body on top of Tim's legs.

Damian smiled at Tim as he flinched from the sudden weight as Titus began to snooze. Tim scowled at his younger brother then decided to power through it.

As he looked over maps and lists his eyes grew heavy, betraying him, and he slipped into an unwitting nap…

Akira had burst into the apartment, startling Peter into dropping the ancient camera he was holding. Peter dove towards the ground to recover and check on it while Akira plopped himself down on the other side, dropping the grocery bag at the side of the couch. pulling out his phone and opening the Meta-Nav.

“Dude,” Peter whined, “Be careful!”

Akira looked at the device skeptically. It was a piece of turn of the millennium tech, that was for sure. Clunky, silver, and a lens the width of Akira’s ring finger.

“That thing looks older than you,” Akira laughs.

“Yeah, maybe,” Peter huffs as he climbs back onto the couch, “But! I got it for a reason. This camera is really good for night photography, and has a bunch of long exposure options. Looking online I saw a bunch of reach outs from publications and the like wanting photos of the Bats in their natural element, and I think I can set some stuff up with this baby to do so.”

“So that’s why you asked me for 50 dollars this morning?” Akira questioned.

“Yep!” Peter smiled, “So I can get some money myself. It's like an investment.”

“Not the worst idea…” Akira considered, “I mean so long as it can’t get meaningfully connected back to you being Spider-Man, should be pretty good.”

“Exactly!” Peter nodded, “I’m gonna set this camera up in places to get shots of Bats, myself, and whatever else happens to pass through. I’ve started picking up on patrol patterns while I’ve been out.”

“And people really want these photos?” Akira turned his nose up a bit.

“Apparently they’re super hard to catch out and about,” Peter said, "There's some photos, but for the most part because they’re out at night and stick to the roofs they’re difficult to pin down. Signal is probably the most well documented of them all just because he operates during the day.”

“Makes sense,” Akira shrugged, “I figured there were a lot of photos of him online, but thinking about it they’re all of him standing talking to police or at Justice League stuff.”

“There are,” Peter responds, “But people really want to see him in full action. And I can give that to them.”

“Match Found” Akira’s phone says, startling Peter.

“Oh!” Akira smiled.

“What was that?” Peter asked, dragging himself over to look at Akira’s phone.

“The Nav,” Akira turned his phone to him, “It's what I use to get into Palaces. Not sure exactly how it works but it was given to me by the Velvet Room.”

Peter’s eyes scanned the fields and tilted his head, “It just says Two-Face?”

Akira turned to it and frowned a bit, “Yeah, its been reshuffled and doesn’t work how it used to. I used to have to put people's real legal names in, but now I think it's what they truly see themselves as. And Harvey Dent seems to fully believe himself to be Two-Face.”

“Two-Face, and the Eastern Docks,” Peter read, “But you don’t have anything for the ‘Ideal’ section.”

“I think I know what it is,” Akira shrugged, “At least I have two options, one I like more than the other.”

“Which are…?” Peter smirked as he asked.

“Fate or Duality. Wanna see which one it is?” Akira smirked back. Peter nodded and looked at the screen as Akira selected the field. He typed in “Fate” and…

“Match Found, attempting navigation” The Phone said, and Peter jolted back from it. “Navigation failed, please move closer to destination”

Peter blinked at it and let go of his breath, “I thought it was gonna drag us into that world you talked about.”

“Nah,” Akira shook his head, “We’re pretty far away, it doesn't like that. So it’ll only work when navigation is started super close to the location. No need to fear.”

Peter shook his head and turned his attention back to the camera. Akira chuckled a little and started nodding off into a nap…

It was a weird dream. Blue and purples and all other colours swirled around. It emanated out of the cracked ground and rising flood waters that had engulfed the neon clad Gotham. Tim hopped between the floating pieces of concrete and asphalt, seeing the tops of street lights poking out from lapping waves.

He saw Akira some distance ahead, and the two tried to close the distance upon seeing each other, but waves kept pushing their foot holds further apart. Blue fire started building around Akira as he pushed ahead determinedly but Tim felt tired. He faltered and fell, getting pushed further and further away from his friend. He laid down, trying to fight back against his failing body but losing.

“Get up” A voice called from the back of his mind, but he couldn’t abide its words as he watched the blue pyre grow higher over the waves as he was washed away…

It was after dark when Tim woke up from a not very restful nap. The voice still rang in the back of his head as he sat up and started stretching his back out.

“Get up” was what he heard in the back of his mind like an echo in a cave. He stood and picked up his laptop, fighting back the lingering fatigue veiling his mind. He took off towards the bat-cave but was stopped at the office door by Alfred.

“Master Tim,” He spoke, voice gentle and caring, “Master Bruce has asked me to ensure you have eaten and washed before patrol tonightI.”

Dammit. Alfred is ordering him to take care of himself. Tim frowned up at him, and the wrinkled face of Alfred hardly moved, aside from one of his eyebrows rising at him. They looked at each other, a silent battle of wills. One that Tim lost.

“Fine, I'll start getting ready.” Tim surrendered.

“Thank you,” Alfred said, “I'll bring your dinner up soon. Run along.”

A promise of a check in. Fuck. Tim was going to have to… His hair wasn’t even that greasy… He trudged up to his room and placed his laptop on his desk.

Photography equipment, prints, items of clothing were tossed aside on the floor of his room. His bed covers were thrown and bunched at the end of his bed as he sat on it and pulled his shirt off, tossing it into one of the piles.

He couldn’t shake the dream. As the words still rang out in his mind.

Peter was getting ready to leave. Akira had woken from his nap to find that all of the things he had bought were put away. Peter figured it was the least he could do. As Akira was finishing off dinner he was humming to himself, and Peter was pulling on his suit, intent on getting out as soon as possible.

Akira put a plate down on the table for Peter and then moved towards the couch, sitting down and opening his phone. Peter rushed to eat quickly, shovelling rice and roast vegetables into his mouth. When he finished, still swallowing the crumbed chicken, Akira stopped him while he was half way out of the window.

“Hey, I wanna test out my new abilities tomorrow,” Akira said, “wanna come along?”

Peter’s face lit up and a smile broke on his face, “Yeah! I’ll come with. Just tell me when you’re going.”

“Will do,” Akira smiled, “See ya later.”

Peter waved and pulled his mask over his head and leapt out the window, attaching to the wall and climbing up to the top. He perched on the corner and looked down over the street before jumping and catching himself in a swing.

He spent a couple of hours just swinging around. It was quiet across the board, so he was having fun diving, and flipping and all sorts of high adrenaline activities he could entertain himself with.

All was well until an explosion rang out across Gotham, Peter swore he could feel the shock wave of it while he was at the height of his swing rolling into a back flip, rippling across his body. He instantly caught himself as he came out of his flip and corrected his course towards the source. His ear piece crackled to life in his ear and he heard Akira.

“You hear that?” He asked, and Peter could hear him moving around.

Peter found the closest and highest building to try and find the source.

“I did,”He responded, scanning the portion of the city he could see from there, “Looking for the source right now. It was close to our area, I wasn’t far away. Hang back, if it’s bad and we’re struggling I’ll let you know.”

“Alright,” Akira frowned, “I’ll be ready to go.”

Peter dropped his hand from the side of his head with his eyes set on a building burning white and black. It was several blocks away from where he was so he launched himself and swung as fast as he could towards it. He heard sirens blaring from the streets below but kept his goal in mind. He dropped onto a building across the street from the burning building and took the scene in.

Fire engines were pulling into the street below and a couple of cop cars also rolled in. A fire captain stared up at the oddly coloured flame and people were being dragged out. Heat radiated off the building and bore down on the area. Peter bounced on his toes, straining to listen for heartbeats in the building over the commotion.

The small Robin appeared next to him, causing Peter to jump, and trained his eyes on the building.

“I thought you were supposed to have great senses.” He said in a voice that would have been intimidating had it not been coming out of a squeaky 13 year old.

“I was focused,” Peter groaned, "There's still people in the building.”

Robin nodded and stepped onto the ledge and attached the edge of his grapple to it and he repelled down.

“There’s still people inside,” He called, running towards the fire fighters. It seems the water hoses were less than effective over the white fire and Peter wasn’t going to stick around waiting for them to figure it out.

He walked to the other end of the building and then ran and leapt across the street, crashing through a window half way up the building and rolling to land. He
ignored the glass that stabbed into his shins and moved to the closest heartbeat. He came across a locked door and swore, reeling back and kicking it in.

There was an old woman asleep on an arm chair. She was still breathing but he was sure she wouldn't be much longer. So he went to her side and picked her up, shocking her awake, but Peter ignored her as he moved to the window and used his free arm to throw it open and went out, pulling her out and webbing her up gently and lowering her to the ground while she still recovered from the shock of it all.

A fire fighter rushed to her side and Peter shouted that she should just be able to cut her out of the webs before turning back into the building.

“It should be alright here,” Peter said as he turned his com back on, “Some kind of fire bomb went off in a building, currently getting people out of it.”

“Okay,” Akira replied, “Stay safe, don’t die. If the situation changes let me know.”

“Will do,” Peter continued his route through the building.

Batman arrived on the scene later than he was thrilled with. He dove out of the bat mobile and ran to the fire captain to get an update on the situation. Unknown fire source, odd colour, there is a current focus on rescue with a team of fire fighters clearing the ground floors, and Spider-Man up in the upper levels clearing those.

Another person was lowered in a web safety cocoon and the black and red spider disappeared back into the building.

Batman looked up at the seven storey building and felt his face twitch. It was beginning to fall apart, still standing for the time being, but he didn’t think it would be for long. So he wasted no time in entering himself. His primary goal was on finding the source and figuring out what exactly caused the white and black fire.

He moved through the building searching for the origin point, but got distracted as the building began to crumble and a girl cried out, Batman raced up the stairs to find her only to see Spider-Man already there. There was a girl on the other side of a gap which dropped down multiple storeys. He was tapping his wrist, eventually sighing. Batman pressed himself into the shadows to watch how he handled this.

Spider-Man rolled his mask up, revealing the lower half of his face. Nothing notable. White.

“Hey, you see that beam there, wanna try making your way over to me?” Spider-Man smiled, an edge of worry entering his voice.

“I’m scared,” The girl sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I know,” Spider-Man adjusted his squat, moving towards the other side of the beam that the girl was on, “But you have to try, I’m here, just do your best, I’ll keep talking, just watch my lips.”

The girl nodded and stepped onto the beam, using the remains of the wall next to her to balance, the fire crawled up the walls on the outside of the hall.

“Good, now just one foot in front of the other, you got this!” Spider-Man bounced slightly as he spoke, ready to leap and catch her.

The girl swallowed and took a few small, shuffling steps, Spider-Man was simply saying encouraging words, her eyes were trained on his mouth. After some more steps the beam started to tilt and drop below the level Spider-Man was one by a foot, causing the girl to scream and nearly lose her balance.

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re okay! I’ll be able to pick you up once you get over here, so keep moving! I believe in you.” Spider-Man kept up saying things like that as the girl shuffled faster down the beam. Once she got close enough Spider-Man put his hands out, she reached up and grabbed them, Spider-Man held tight as he quickly pulled her onto the sturdy bit of floor he was on. She buried herself into Spider-Man’s shoulder and sobbed.

“I never want to do anything like that ever again!” She cried and Spider-Man picked her up and carried her.

“Hopefully you never will,” He smiled, using his closest hand to pull his mask down, “But if you ever do, just think about tonight and how good you did!”

The girl nodded into his chest and he turned to face Batman.

“Mind taking her down?” He said, offering the small child towards him, "There's still a heartbeat I can hear, but it's getting weaker.”

Batman’s lips tightened in something resembling an emotion and took her into his arms, “Hurry, time is of utmost importance.”

Spider-Man nodded and used his web to pull himself through a hole in the ceiling and disappeared. Batman tightened his grip on the girl and whispered an assurance to her as she cried. He descended the stairs as fast as he could with her and then exited onto the street. A man cried out and rushed over, with the girl looking towards him and calling him daddy. Batman handed her off to the man as a paramedic took notice and came to check on the girl.

Batman reentered the building and made his way back to where Spider-Man was and then heard him call out.

As he came to where he heard the spider, he saw him standing over a man. He was in rough shape. Burns ran up his body and blood seeped out from cuts he had. He followed Spider-Man's gaze to a device that looked like a metal lunch box. It was open and from the mess around it, it was easy to deduce that that was the origin of the explosion.

“It sounded stronger than it was,” Spider-Man frowned, “I think it was an attention grab.”

“But by who?” Batman asked as he bent down to assess the man.

Spider-Man grabbed a card of the ground with an intricate, calligraphy N on it. Batman noted that the man he was treating had the same N on an arm band.

“Regards, Mr. N.” Spider-Man read and sighed, dropping his hand to his side, staring at the box it no doubt came with.

“Come on,” Batman heaved the man onto his shoulders, “The building won’t hold up much longer, let’s go.”

Spider-Man nodded and followed Batman towards the stairs, but instead flipped out of one of the windows and no doubt landed down in the street. Batman shook his head and rushed down the stairs.

As he exited the building he heard it creaking, making his way immediately towards the paramedics and flagging down a cop. As he handed the man over and began telling the officer what he saw, the building made a final, resounding, crack and collapsed. Dust and debris flew out and people gasped and screamed in the street, hands flew up to defend themselves, turning away to do the same.

As the dust began to settle, Batman saw that no one was hurt from the collapse. He had to hand it to Spider-Man for being stupid enough to run in and drag people out with what tools he has. Plenty of families are still with each other. He nodded to him, and Spider-Man nodded back. He shot a web out and ascended to the roof tops and Batman followed after. Robin was close on his heels, as he had been giving on the ground aid.

Spider-Man was waiting for Batman, holding the card in his hands and turning it over in his hands. Batman walked closer to him, boots crunching on the gravel roof. Robin walked light footed behind him.

“I’ve seen a card like this before,” Spider-Man frowned, “But I have no idea where it leads.”

“We’ve found a couple,” Batman said, “But they’ve been few and far between over the last couple of weeks.”

“Damn,” Spider-Man spat, “Whatever that was, it seems like he wants to make himself known. What a pain.”

“The white fire is a concern,” Batman turned back to the smoldering ruin of the building. White fire still burned under it.

“The only thing I can think of that does that is epsom salt,” Spider-Man noted, “But it can’t have been that.”

“Then what is it?” Robin spoke up, “If not a chemical reaction?”

“It will require further research,” Batman turned his face towards Spider-Man, “Can I have the card?”

Spider-Man defensively brought the card up to his chest, “Sorry, I want to look into it myself. These cards are setting my senses off like crazy, and I want to follow that.”

Despite his face being hidden, Spider-Man could tell Batman was appraising him.

“Fine,” He said, “Prove yourself, if you can figure this out, I’ll be more then willing to work with you.”

“Batman!” Robin hissed, but the man put his hand up.

Spider-Man stood proudly, “I’ll do my best.”

Batman nodded and turned away, “Lets go, Robin.”

Robin looked at Spider-Man, then at his father, and back at Spider-Man. He let out a “tch” and followed Batman as he left the scene.

Spider-man stashed the card deep in his costume and swung, exhausted from carrying people and evacuating the building. He got back to his apartment and found Akira getting ready for bed. That was when Peter remembered he still had glass shards in his legs and begged Akira for help in that problem. Despite himself, he laughed and went to retrieve the first aid kit they had been putting together.

Peter took off his costume’s leggings and Akira set about removing the glass with a set of tweezers. With the shards pulled out Akira was quick to bandage and compress Peter’s legs. The two debriefed about the night as they went, and as Akira grabbed Peter a glass of water, and talked of what this “Mr. N” could be until they both turned in for the night.

Bruce, however, had Damian to answer to.

“Why did you give that arachnid a case? Are you well, father?”

“I’m not handing it over to him wholly,” He answered, wiping ash off his helmet, “We’ll continue our investigation. I just want to see what he’s made of.”

“Hope you don’t regret it,” Damian sneered, “For I would not have done the same.”