Teen Titans :
Captain: Nightwing / Richard "Dick" Grayson
Logistics: Julia Pennyworth
Members: Hawk (Hank Hall), Dove (Dawn Granger), Red Star / Starfire (Leonid Konstantinovitch Kovar), Danny Chase
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Somewhere in Gotham
The warehouse reeked of rust, mildew, and damp wood. A single lightbulb swung from the ceiling, scattering shadows across the cracked concrete floor.
Deathstroke dragged a coffin across the room, the heavy wood shrieking as it scraped the cement. He let it drop with a grunt and looked at the man waiting in the emerald-green suit.
"He's in the case," Slade said flatly, nudging the coffin with his boot. "I'll admit—your modification to Hatter's tech was imptrssive. He didn't stir even once."
Riddler's lips curled faintly, but there was no joy in it. Just habit. "Naturally. A puzzle is only good when the pieces stay don't move out of place. "
Slade tiltedhis head, eye narrowing. "What I don't get is how you got the money to pay me. You don't exactly strike me as flush with cash. My fees aren't cheap."
Nygma didn't reply. Instead, he pulled out his phone and tapped a button. A door creaked open and out waddled Oswald Cobblepot —with a strange metal band clamped around his skull. His movements were steady, and his penguin like waddle as natural as ever. He adjusted his coat with the same fussiness, yet his eyes told a different story — glassy, vacant,stripped of their usual sly malice. The body was olwald's ; the will behind it wasn't.
Deathstroke let out a low whistle. "Well, That's a surprise. Didn't think you had it in you. Taking down Cobblepot? Guess I underestimated you."
"Enough questions," Riddler snapped, his voice sharp, impatient. "You got your money. Now leave."
Slade smirked, stepping back into the shadows. "Fine. Call if you've got more work. Just remember—I don't work on credits." His footsteps slowly faded into darkness.
Nygma dialed another number. The line clicked.
"Hello, hello, helloooo, Mister Question Mark ," Joker's voice sang, distorted and giddy. "Whats the matter? Do you want a ticket for my play?"
"Do you have Gordon?" Riddler's voice was steel.
Joker laughs with amusement. "Wahehehehe What's the matter?no more riddles tonight?"
''Do you have him or not?" Riddler's voice pressed further growing impatient.
A giggle burst through the receiver, jagged and high. " Hahahaha Oh ho, Straight to business. I see. That's Boring! But yes, yes, I've got our dear commissioner. Tied up with a ribbon. Now, picture this, Eddie—" his voice tilted into a feverish whisper, "—what if we put him in the audience? Actually the front row, popcorn in hand, and let him watch his sweet daughter carved into confetti? Hah! Imagine his face! Hahaha. Its sooooo fun."
"I don't care about your performance,joker," Nygma snapped. "Bring me Gordon, or our deal ends here."
A pause. Then a mocking wishpher: "Why sooo serious?Nygma. The world is boring enough. Laugh a little my friend." A cackle rattled the line. "Fine, fine. We'll trade. But don't spoil my fun, Eddie. I'm the director here."
The line cut dead.
Riddler lowered the phone. He stared up at the warehouse's cracked window, where the moon bled pale light across his face. His whisper was barely audible, thin and frayed.
"Everything will end. Soon."
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Massacre Swamp
"Solomon Grundy… born on Monday," the gray behemoth wispheres.
"Baptized on Tuesday!"
His voice rising , shaking the swamp.
"Married on Wednesday!"
The massive zombie lunged. With one thunderous punch, Grundy staggered Zombie Bane back three steps. Each step cracked the ground beneath him, mud and water exploding as though landmines had been buried in the swamp.
"What… is this strength?" Zombie Bane muttered, voice like gravel grinding through stone.
Grundy's pale, corpse-white arms stretched wide, trying to pin the monster down. His gray muscles strained as he shoved, pumched and kicked bane trying to move him back. But Zombie Bane held his ground, his feet digging deeper into the earth. Grundy pushed again—harder, roaring—but the zombie only rocked, then reset his stance.
"Grundy… is angry! " he roared.
His roar split the swamp. The sky itself seemed to recoil. Grundy clutched Zombie Bane's waist and squeezed with bone-crushing force.
"Grundy… is ANGRY!"
The two behemots toppled like mountains, colliding, mud and water surging around them in waves. Rotten trees splintered and fell. From the darkness, swarms of corrupted animals poured in, drawn to the fight like flies to a corpse. Birds black with decay, bloated rats, slithering serpents—all hurled themselves at Grundy, gnawing and clawing, but their attacks barely scratched his stone-thick hide.
Zombie Bane roared, swatting the things aside. His clawed hand shoved the plague of animals towards Deadshot and Cheshire.
"Grundy's… angry! Angry! Angry!"
But then he froze.
Zombie Bane's lifeless eyes locked with Grundy's, hollow sockets gleaming with sickly fire. A smile—not human, not sane—curled his lips.
"Hehehe… did you enjoy yourself?" Bane rasped. "Because now… it's my turn."
The swamp convulsed as Bane heaved Grundy upside down.
BANG!
Grundy's skull slammed into the muck, earth splitting like glass. Bane tore his legs free from the mud with a jerk, then swung him like a plow, ripping trenches in the swamp and showering the air with dirt.
He pinned down the corpse giant, hammering fists into his face. Each strike was like sledgehammer on iron. Flesh shredded. Bones cracked. Grundy's face dented under the blows, his groans weakening until silence swallowed him whole.
Bruce could almost see the broken bone spurn protruding from the flesh of bane's arms yer zombie Bane rose from the carcass, towering, broken arms jutting with bone spurs, face blank of pain, bloodless despite the carnage.
A sickening crack echoed.
Across the swamp, Poison Ivy fused with both the Swamp Thing's fallen tubers, her plant-behemoth roared as she piloted its wooden body alongside the screeching wooden eagle. The chaos dragged every eye toward her.
No one noticed Batman slipping back, cloaked in shadow, crouched behind a fallen tree except for croc who are near him.
His hand clutched the grappling gun. The other tightened around scraps of tattered cloth—Bane's fallen hood.
[Warning: Anchoring item detected—Bane's Mask.]
[Crisis Energy Units Converted: 103.]
[Crisis Energy Held: 143.]
[Warning: Downloading files targetable to Batman.]
[Target:Bat-Bane]
[Danger Level: D+]
[In one world of the Dark Multiverse, when Batman and the Justice League fell to the Crime Syndicate, it was Bane who claimed the mantle. He remade himself into Gotham's dark knight—fear and discipline forged into brutal order. For a time, he brought the city something it had never truly known: peace.]
[But peace never lasts. Mazahs descended on Gotham like a storm of blades and thunder, drowning the city in fire and destruction. Bat-Bane fought with everything he had—strategy, strength , the will that once broke Batman himself. He saved who he could, dragged innocents from the flames, struck Mazahs again and again, refusing to yield.]
[But It wasn't enough.]
[When the smoke cleared, Gotham was ash. Mazahs left him broken in rubble, considered dead. But Bane survived. Not the protector. Not the man— but something hollow. Something twisted. His body shattered,his mind cracked open.]
[He rose from ruin,a broken shadow of the bat he tried to be — laughing, bitter and broken. Gotham's last sound wasn't hope, but the broken laughter of Bat-Bane—the failed savior who watched his city burn.]
[Inject venom serum (stored in utility belt) and consume 59 Crisis Energy Units to synchronize?]
Batman felt everything. Bane's despair. His desperation. Everything he gave in his final stand.
Bruce's eyes narrowed. So he truly carried the mantle… to this end. Even Bane sought to protect Gotham. This is really shocking.
.
He exhaled, steadying his hand. And injected the venom in him.
[Synchronized: Bat-Bane.]
[Crisis Energy Remaining: 84.]
"Batman, do you think ivy has a chance against...?" Killer croc turned towards batman to ask.
"Batman?"
It began with his arm. The already bat-like limb bulged grotesquely, muscle fibers swelling beneath leathery skin. Veins pulsed and split across the surface, dark green venom coursing through them like liquid fire. His claws lengthened into curved talons, black and glistening, scraping against the forest ground.
Then the other arm followed. The transformation drove him to his knees as his body convulsed, bones groaning under the strain of sudden growth. His shoulders widened, spine arching, each vertebra pushing upward like ridges of a beast.
The venom didn't just swell his flesh—it rewrote it. His chest expanded with every passing breaths, wings stretching wider, membranes hardening into something more powerful, more brutal. His teeth elongated into jagged fangs, saliva dripping as his jaw contorted into a predator's maw.
His legs thickened, quads bulging with unnatural strength, his stance warping from human to monstrous. Every second, the bat within him grew until all that remained was a hulking silhouette—five meters of muscle, claw, and wing, looming like a nightmare against the silence of Gotham's moonlight.
Killer Croc stumbled back, eyes wide. His voice cracked.
"B-Ba… Batman?"
The air itself turned heavier. Pressure radiated from the beast, sharp as blades, crushing as a tidal wave. Croc's scales prickled with instinctual fear, his animal brain shrieking retreat.
He had felt it before—the suffocating terror of Batman's gaze dissecting his every move, stripping him bare. The dread of being seen, known, judged.
But this? This was Batman multiplied, magnified, an apex predator birthed from venom and bat monstrosity.
Croc felt what normal gotham goons felt. A force which will make you helpless like children.
Croc's throat bobbed. "Ba…Batman? Are you still in there?"
Batman's mind was still in chaos. He felt everything bane felt on his last stand. His desperation in trying to save every last one, the brutality in his punches. The despair he felt after realising all is for naught. And the broken self left after the massacre. Everything.
Bruce slowly turned, yellow eyes burning.
It seems, the higher the rating more I will be affected by them. Alfred protocol isn't able to filter all emotions.
Bruce contained all of his emotions within and rumbled out, guttural but steady. "It's alright, Waylon. I'm still in control."
With this Batman gets into the battle.
(Note: I made some changes in the previous chapter to make the kidnapping more reasonable. Also i won't be getting into teen titans history, it's meaningless to the story.)