Maria Powers practically collapsed into the large chair sitting near the fireplace in her manor's parlor. The cushions sank beneath her weight as exhaustion finally began catching up to her. For several long moments she simply sat there staring blankly into the dim room while rain tapped softly against the tall windows overlooking the estate grounds.
She had not stepped inside this room since her husband had been hospitalized.
It had always been his favorite part of the manor.
The parlor carried an older warmth compared to the rest of the house. Dark wood shelves lined the walls beside paintings collected over decades, and the faint scent of old books still lingered beneath the smoke drifting from the fireplace. Her husband would spend entire evenings there reading while classical music played softly in the background.
Now the room felt hollow.
Upstairs, a private medical team moved quietly through the halls tending to him. The doctors assured her he would wake soon. They believed the stress and shock from the attack had only worsened his already fragile condition, but physically he would recover.
Recover.
Maria almost laughed at the word.
Tonight had nearly wiped out the powers family.
She reached for the crystal decanter resting nearby and poured herself a drink with hands that still trembled slightly from adrenaline. The amber liquid splashed into the glass before she immediately took a long swallow.
The burn helped. Mentally, it seemed to burn away all of her struggles.
It cut through the lingering panic and slowly dragged her nerves back toward something manageable.
Her mind replayed the hospital attack over and over again whether she wanted it to or not.
The gunfire.
The screams.
The mercenaries flooding through the doors.
And then the Talons.
God.
The Talons.
Maria shut her eyes tightly for a moment as the memory resurfaced of those things tearing through armed men like predators unleashed into a cage of smaller animals. She had spent years around the Court. Years hearing stories about Talons and what they were capable of.
Seeing them in person had been different.
They had saved her life.
Thankfully Kane had ordered the Talons deployed to protect senior Court members after everything that had happened recently. Without them she would almost certainly be dead right now.
Maria took another slow drink.
The alcohol settled warm in her chest as her breathing finally began steadying completely.
Kane was going to be unbearable about this.
The thought almost made her smile despite herself. She could already imagine the calm superiority in his voice during the next meeting. The subtle implication that his precautions had been the only reason she survived.
She hated that he would have that satisfaction.
But she was also thankf—
Maria froze. The glass stopped halfway toward her lips and her expression slowly hardened.
"That bastard."
The words slipped out quietly into the empty room.
Now that the panic had faded enough for her thoughts to organize properly, the sequence of events suddenly looked very different.
Kane mobilized the Talons the night before she was attacked.
Not after, but before.
Maria sat forward slowly in the chair as realization spread through her mind piece by piece.
This hadn't been a gang hit. The attackers moved too professionally. Too cleanly. They weren't unstable street killers looking to send a message. They were trained operators with the gear and equipment to back up their bravado to attack her of all people.
A hit squad. A fucking hit squad.
And then the Talons arrived at the perfect moment.
Not too early.
Not too late.
Exactly when they needed to.
Maria's fingers tightened around the glass.
"It was him," she whispered.
Kane sent the mercenaries. The realization settled coldly into her stomach.
He orchestrated the attack himself, then deployed the Talons to slaughter the assassins before they could expose anything. He had turned himself into her savior while simultaneously eliminating every loose end capable of connecting the operation back to him.
And worst of all— it was brilliant.
Maria leaned back slowly into the chair again and drank deeply from the glass.
The others in the Court would absolutely fall for it.
Some already distrusted her after the recent meetings. Others desperately wanted stability after weeks of chaos and embarrassment. Kane swooping in as the man who "saved" a senior Court member during a targeted assassination attempt would strengthen his position immensely.
She could maybe convince her closest allies.
Maybe.
But the rest?
No chance.
Not without proof.
And Kane would never leave proof.
Maria stared into the fire silently while rain continued tapping against the windows.
"Damn you," she muttered bitterly.
Because no matter how much she hated admitting it—Kane had won this round.
***
Kieran sat comfortably across from Madam Jiang inside one of her private lounges, a steaming cup of tea resting calmly between his hands. Soft music drifted quietly through the room while rain rolled steadily against the windows overlooking the cross walk below. The lounge itself felt insulated from the chaos swallowing the city outside. Warm lighting, polished wood, and quiet conversation created the illusion that Gotham was not slowly tearing itself apart block by block.
Madam Jiang sat opposite him with her usual composed posture, though irritation lingered visibly beneath the surface tonight. One elegant finger tapped lightly against the armrest of her chair while untouched tea cooled near her elbow.
"You've heard the recent news, I assume," she asked.
Kieran nodded slowly, a small smile playing at the edge of his lips.
"There's quite a lot going on lately," he mused. "The GCPD arrested several influential people after Batman dismantled that little underground club. Maria Powers survives an assassination attempt. Multiple gangs suddenly start killing rich people." He took a slow sip of tea. "It's been a rather exciting week for Gotham."
Madam Jiang's expression remained unimpressed.
"Expansion has halted entirely," she said bluntly. "Every district is tense right now. Everyone is armed. Everyone is suspicious." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "It's bad for business."
Kieran chuckled softly into his cup.
"Don't look so upset, Madam Jiang. Once this situation resolves itself, you'll be in a wonderful position for expansion, won't you?" He tilted his head slightly toward her. "The larger organizations are bleeding resources. Smaller groups are terrified. This gives you time to recruit properly and reinforce your territory while the Court exhausts itself."
Madam Jiang exhaled slowly through her nose.
"I do have family coming from overseas," she admitted after a moment. "Additional personnel. Trusted people." She finally picked up her tea. "So perhaps waiting is not the worst thing."
Kieran smiled brightly.
"No, it isn't. Personally, I find all of this rather relaxing."
That earned him a long look.
Madam Jiang studied the man seated across from her carefully while silence settled briefly between them. She would never openly admit it, not even to her closest advisors, but Kieran/ Quentin/ or is it Nolan, she didn't know but what she did know is he unsettled her in ways few people managed to. Forming an alliance with the Underpass had been a calculated risk. At the time it seemed sensible. The man had resources, intelligence, and an unusual level of discipline compared to most Gotham criminals.
And so far—The gamble had paid off tremendously.
But occasionally she found herself wondering whether helping the man sitting across from her had truly been wise.
Things moved around him.
People moved around him.
Gang wars halted. Alliances formed. The Court of Owls began collapsing under pressure from every conceivable direction. Yet somehow Kieran continued sipping tea in expensive lounges with that same pleasant smile as if none of it truly concerned him.
"What are your plans," she asked carefully, "once all of this blows over?"
Kieran's smile widened slightly.
"Maybe I'll try some expansion too if I'm lucky," he replied lightly. "It could be fun."
The way he said it made Madam Jiang's stomach tighten slightly.
Because he sounded genuine.
***
Several hours later Nolan sat alone in the workshop beneath the hotel, the hum of machinery filling the otherwise quiet room. Tools and weapon components littered the surrounding tables while scattered blueprints rested beneath the glow of overhead lamps.
In his hands rested a pair of reinforced gloves nearing completion.
Thin strips of conductive wiring disappeared beneath dark leather while compact metal pads rested across the knuckles and palms. Nolan worked carefully, making final adjustments with practiced precision before testing the tension between the internal components.
Satisfied, he set one glove aside and reached for the second just as his phone buzzed nearby.
Without looking away from his work, he answered.
"Go ahead."
Naima's voice came through immediately.
"Everything's going according to plan so far, boss. What's the next step?"
Nolan leaned back slightly in his chair, turning the glove beneath the light as he inspected his stitching.
"Good," he said softly. "Everything has been falling into place nicely." A faint smile crossed his face. "We just need one final piece, Naima."
"What's that?"
Nolan set the glove down carefully before finally looking toward the phone.
"The Court is suffocating."
His voice remained calm, almost conversational.
"They're being pressured from every direction at once. The gangs are attacking their lower members. Batman is dismantling their operations and handing people to the police." He leaned back further in the chair. "And now there's infighting among the leadership."
Naima stayed quiet while he spoke.
Nolan's smile widened slightly.
"We only need one final push."
"What kind of push?" she asked.
Nolan's eyes drifted toward the unfinished weapons spread across the nearby tables.
"The gangs killed some lower-ranking members," he said thoughtfully. "Batman embarrassed and arrested others." His fingers tapped lightly against the workbench. "Now someone needs to eliminate one of the Court's senior figures."
"They will crumble."
"Yes, yes they will."