DC Infinity - The next step in the evolution of DC Comics Fanfiction

Issue #4

".nothing gained."

Flashes of light bounced along the interior walls of the warehouse. Blue electrical discharges splashed onto the concrete floor, the sparks quickly dissipating into the dark. A figure dressed as Batman swiftly moved across the room, years of training and reflexes showing in his precise movements.

"Back out now, pigeon, and I promise not to break all of your bones," the figure said as he aimed a deadly kick at Nightwing's head.

Nightwing was just as fast as his attacker. He raised his arm up to the left side of his body to block the kick. Dick Grayson had been fighting like this for most of his life and he usually felt comfortable during these bouts.only this wasn't a regular brawl. This time, he had possibly gotten in way over his head.

"Nothing to say?" the attacker asked. "I thought all you costumed rodents made cute remarks during a fight. Helps to rattle your opponent's nerves or something, right? What's wrong? Maybe you're a bit rattled yourself?"

Nightwing ducked under another kick and rolled forward across the cold concrete floor of the warehouse. He bounced up into a defensive stance just in time to block a spinning back-fist that was quickly followed up by a chop to his gut, which he was unable to block. All the air built up into his lungs shot out in one quick burst.

The former boy-wonder knew better than to lose his focus. He had been hit far worse and if he didn't act quickly would probably be hit again. He was down on one knee, kneeling right in front of the false Batman. He tightened his grip on his escrima fighting stick and jammed the end of it into his attacker's kneecap. He heard a satisfying 'pop' along with a sharp curse from his opponent.

The man limped back a few steps and Nightwing stood up, filling his lungs once again with oxygen.

"Not rattled, Prometheus," Nightwing said. "Just surprised. I've been tracking your movements for the last two months and I didn't expect to find out it was you who's been sending people to the hospital for minor crimes."

Both men started to circle each other in their fighting stances. Their eyes met through their masks, trying to pierce the layers of each other's psyches.

"Ha!" he scoffed in reply. "Minor crimes indeed. Even if my mind wasn't all messed up by your Justice League buddies I would still be able to see how sickening your city is. You and your kind use the terms 'justice' and 'crime' much too casually. Every person I punished deserved what they received from my hands."

"Even Joshua Milton? You sent him to the emergency room where he died. Did he deserve death at the hands of a vigilante?"

"Oh, please," Prometheus said. "Like you have any room to talk. Ask me if I even care that he's dead? Your guilt trip is wasted on me. You jog across the same rooftops that I do. You encounter the same scum. You wish you had the freedom to do what I have done. I can't remember large chunks of my life but I do know one thing: I'm justified in what I'm doing just as much as you are."

"We're nothing alike."

"Whatever."

The pretender moved his left arm in a swift, upward motion and Nightwing knew he had thrown something. Nightwing dove at the ground just in time to dodge several deadly blades cutting through the air where he had been standing. Hearing his opponent exert some kind of physical effort, he looked straight up to see Prometheus falling through the air, both his feet aimed directly at his head. Nightwing rolled back onto his shoulders and kicked both his legs straight up into the air, catching Prometheus in the chest as gravity pulled him right down.

Prometheus quickly recovered from the surprise counter-attack as Nightwing nip-upped back into a more vertical position. Halfway through the maneuver, however, Prometheus reached out and grabbed Nightwing's left ankle, upsetting the young man's balance.

"Images keep swirling through my head," Prometheus said. "I seem to recall this exact situation with the real Batman right before I bashed his head off of the wall."

"I'm not Batman."

Nightwing contorted his body into a painful bend that allowed his free leg to kick Prometheus in his solar plexus. Prometheus stepped back, wincing in pain and releasing Nightwing, who hit the floor but quickly leapt up onto his feet again.

The pretender charged forward and sprung into the air again, this time spinning around and sending his foot out to hammer into Nightwing's shoulder. Nightwing saw the obvious attack and sidestepped it easily.but then pain suddenly exploded in his chest from Prometheus' fist. He pushed off the ground and flipped up onto a nearby crate, rubbing his chest to ease the pain.

"Got to love misdirection," Prometheus sneered.

Nightwing's chest was throbbing with pain. If he had the time right now, he was sure he would be able to remove his Kevlar top and watch his chest turn black and blue.

Another spot for Babs to rub ointment on , Nightwing thought.

He couldn't let Prometheus keep up his assault; he had to get the upper hand in this fight. Prometheus had once taken down the entire JLA by himself, and the longer Nightwing allowed this fight to continue, the less his chances were for survival.

Nightwing jerked his wrists a specific way so his gauntlets would release several pellets into each of his hands. Bounding up higher on the stack of crates, Nightwing tossed a half dozen pellets onto the ground directly in front of Prometheus as he climbed, where they exploded and dispersed tear gas into the air. The pellets were small but they packed enough of a punch to flood a one hundred square foot room. The cloud quickly enveloped Prometheus, who brought his cape up to cover his face.

"Fighting -cough- dirty, eh?" Prometheus said from within the cloud.

Instead of responding, Nightwing leapt off the top crate and grabbed a wench that was hanging from the top of the warehouse. Swinging down through the air, Nightwing released the wench at the apex of his swing. He held his breath as he entered the cloud feet first.

He expected to connect with Prometheus but didn't succeed in hitting anything but the dense cloud, which was clearing up quickly. Then, seemingly from nowhere, a gloved fist exploded from the mist and broke one of his ribs. Nightwing was forced to breathe in the foul gas, immediately causing his eyes to water.

Another punch to the side of his face sent him to the ground and a hard kick to his ribs pushed him out to the center of the warehouse, thankfully away from the tear gas.

Nightwing had undergone special training to allow him a limited resistance to tear gas, but he had been unprepared and surprised. His eyes watered, his throat burned, and he coughed as if he had bronchitis, but it was less than a normal person. After just a brief moment, he was fine albeit unnerved. One rib was definitely broken; possibly two.

"You could have walked away and avoided this," said Prometheus, his voice slightly muffled.

Nightwing stood and looked at the gas cloud which was dispersing quickly. From within it, Prometheus casually walked out, a filtration unit fixed over his mouth.

"I've got the tools and I've got the talent!" Prometheus said as he struck a comical heroic pose. "I look like Batman, I act like Batman, I fight like Batman, I even have gadgets like Batman. Take the analytical collector in my lenses, for instance." Prometheus motioned to his forehead, brushing his fingers against the dark material. "I've been monitoring your body language and vitals while you were enlightening me earlier. I know you've been telling the truth, or at least you think you have been. And when you said you weren't the Bat, your heart skipped a beat. What's up with that? The real one has been gone for a year and who is here to take his place? You? For all intents and purposes, I am the Dark Knight."

Prometheus spun his electrified baton around in the air, which he must have picked up again while Nightwing was running atop the crates.

"I would say you could be my sidekick or something and we could spend our nights stopping muggers, but who wants to share the glory? Say good night, pigeon."

Prometheus lunged at Nightwing, his baton swinging with deadly accuracy. At the last second, Nightwing brought up both his escrima sticks to block the attack, catching the baton and holding it inches from both their faces.

"The myth of the real Prometheus was that he stole fire from the gods," Nightwing muttered, his strength ebbing fast in the struggle and sweat beading on his forehead. "If you play with fire, you're going to get burned."

Shifting his momentum, Nightwing suddenly eased up his resistance against Prometheus and pivoted to his side, trapping the baton in between his escrima sticks. Before Prometheus could react, Nightwing swung the electrical baton around and shoved the end of it against Prometheus' bulky cowl, causing sparks to erupt.

The smell of burnt circuitry filled Nightwing's nostrils as Prometheus screamed and clawed at his mask. Nightwing stepped back but couldn't avoid the wild arms of the flailing villain, who knocked him up against the stack of crates he had climbed up earlier.

"What did you - system reboot? - how can.AHH!" the pretender yelled as he gripped his face.

Prometheus reached behind his cape and then randomly threw out several small, black objects. Nightwing vaulted behind the stack of crates and narrowly avoided the resulting explosions. They weren't large or devastating, but it allowed Prometheus the time he needed to stumble out of the warehouse. When Nightwing arose from behind his makeshift barricade, he saw the door Prometheus had exited through slam shut.

Nightwing sighed and mentally swore. The bad guy was getting away. At least he wouldn't be able to get very fair if he moved quickly enough.

"Oracle?" Nightwing said through gritted teeth. "You there?"

{{Yeah, you okay? Your vitals are coming in a little odd,}} the concerned voice of his wife Barbara Grayson said in his earpiece.

"I'll live," he said. "Our mysterious vigilante just took off, his head buzzing with misinformation. We had a few words and I've got a couple broken rubs. Turns out our guy was leaping rooftops dressed as Batman."

"Well, this time it was Prometheus."

"I wish it was a joke," replied Nightwing. He jogged over to another exit and left the warehouse. "Looks like he's using similar gear like when he took over the Watchtower. Remember that helmet of his that could upload information directly into his brain? I think he's using something similar that has messed with his head."

{{Two more seconds and I'll have the schematic for it right in front of me.}}

"Good," said Nightwing as he climbed into his disguised automobile. "I need you to upload something to the car while I chase after Prometheus."

"Birdmobile just didn't seem justifiable," Nightwing said as the car's engine roared to life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had happened again. His mind was racing with various details of different lives and somewhere among them was his own. He just couldn't figure out which one.

Prometheus stumbled across the rooftop, falling several times before reaching the end. His head was pounding. A plethora of jumbled information had been forced inside his brain and none of it was making sense.

Was he Batman? Was he Prometheus? Was he one of the many others swimming inside his brain? He had images and memories in his head, but they were still fuzzy and they melded together.

"Dammit," he muttered. "Need to focus.need to--"

"You need to relax and pay attention."

Prometheus whipped around, throwing himself off balance and knocking over a lawn chair someone had set on the roof to enjoy the view. The voice had come from the ignorant runt that had caused this mess. Nightwing stood in the moonlight, sure of himself, steady and not swaying like Prometheus was. From his perspective, Nightwing looked like an arrogant bastard intent on slapping down a small child.

"Relax, Madchen?" said Prometheus, this time in a thick German accent. "Warum die Holle ich das machen wurde?"

Prometheus slapped the air in front of him, sending out two small razors at Nightwing. The attack was slow and awkward and Nightwing didn't even have to shift his feet to dodge. The razors fell at his feet, glistening in the moonlight.

I could rush him and bowl over him while he's like this , thought Nightwing, but he could just as easily do something erratic. Best to stick to the plan.

"From the looks of things, you're confused and disoriented. You aren't sure what's what and you need my help."

"I don't need anything from you," Prometheus shot back, his voice now sounding more Australian. "You're weaker than--" His sentence was cut short when he gripped his head in another convulsion and slammed into a ventilation shaft. The agony of several personalities trying to force themselves onto him was taking its toll.

"Your mind is fractured and soon it will cave in on itself. That helmet you're wearing seems to be stuck in some kind of feedback loop. I'm your last chance."

"This your kind of justice, mate? I don't need you."

Nightwing ignored his comments and raised his right hand so Prometheus could make out what he was holding. The surrounding light bounced off the object to reveal a silver minidisk.

"Before you took back your original helmet from the Watchtower, Batman extracted the information from inside of it. This disk is a copy of your own personality. It is the only thing that can save you right now."

"Yeah, right," Prometheus warbled in what sounded like an Indonesian accent. "Why should I believe you? Last time I took back my tainted equipment I ended up paralyzed from the neck down."

"Use the analytical collector and you'll see I'm telling the truth. If you don't take this disc from me you'll go insane. Just turn yourself in and you'll get the help you need."

The Dark Knight impersonator leaned against the ventilation shaft to hold him steady. His mouth pulled back at the corners, like he was deep in thought. Prometheus concentrated on the information scrolling over the inside of his lenses and came to one conclusion: Nightwing was telling the truth. His heart rate and body temperature were all normal. Even his posture and body language said he wasn't lying. Damn it all to hell, but he didn't seem to have a choice.

"Fine," Prometheus said, his voice quiet and vaguely resembling what it was normally. "Give it to me."

Nightwing slowly stepped forward. The moonlight reflected off of the minidisk in his hand. After just a few steps, Nightwing was close enough for Prometheus to lunge forward, roaring with primal instinct. He caught Nightwing's right wrist and shoved his left knee into the younger man's stomach. Nightwing doubled over in extreme pain, his already broken ribs shifting around inside his body. Ripping the disk from Nightwing's hands, Prometheus simply pushed his opponent over and focused his desperation on the salvation now in his own hands.

"You heroes will never get it," Prometheus said as he slipped back his cowl, swaying slightly. "Verbal contracts aren't admissible in court and don't hold any water when you're desperate. Moron ."

Nightwing rubbed his ribcage to try and alleviate the pain but he feared there was internal bleeding. He had allowed Prometheus to take the disc from him but his torso was still in an almost unbearable amount of pain.

"Cheers," Prometheus said as he slipped the disc into a compartment on the cowl and then donned it once again. He felt the information pour into his brain and all of the old personalities fighting for dominance simply dissipate. The images and memories in his head all snapped to crystal clarity and for the first time in months his mind didn't feel fuzzy. He was himself again.

"You're finished now, pigeon."

Nightwing stood up, hoping his gamble had paid off. Prometheus closed the small gap between them and threw out a clumsy fist that was sort of aimed at Nightwing's face. He slapped it aside easily and tossed his own closed fist into Prometheus' chin. The impersonator stumbled back in complete and utter shock.

"What the hell?!?"

"With all the skills you had uploaded into your brain," Nightwing explained as he connected with Prometheus' face again, this time with a roundhouse, "you were one of the deadliest people on the planet. Now, you're just you. No stolen skills and knowledge. No pirated personalities. No impersonations. All of your muscle memory is gone. It's. Just. You."

The gloved fist of Nightwing became speckled with blood when he gave Prometheus another uppercut. The villain spit out a mouthful of blood, still confused and shocked.

"But.I.I knew you weren't lying! You told me the truth before!"

"I was telling the truth. The minidisk was a copy of your personality but I had all the skills and talents you acquired over the years removed. Now you're nothing more than a typical, thirty year-old, white male. Just another part of the average population."

Prometheus tried to block Nightwing's attacks, but now he was no match for someone who had been tackling bad guys since he was a child. His defense was clumsy and
Nightwing pierced it easily. Another belt to the head and Prometheus hit the rooftop, unconscious and defeated.

Nightwing breathed heavily, staring down at his fallen opponent. His ribs were killing him and his ankle felt like it might be sprained, too. He bent down, regardless of how much it hurt, and ripped off the cowl from Prometheus' head.

The victory was his, but it almost seemed like a hollow one. He had won but at what moral cost? He had resorted to messing with a person's mind, something that a little over a year ago had caused serious damage in the superhero community. He knew that this time it was different, but when would it ever not be?

It's almost over. I just beat a guy who took down the whole Justice League of America . A guy who even took down Bruce. Bruce... , thought Nightwing, staring hard at the empty mask in his hands. Bruce should have been the one to take Prometheus down. This is his city. After all we've been thrown I still can't believe he allowed something like this to happen. It's time Gotham City had the Batman back again.

After making sure Prometheus was secured to the fire escape, Nightwing radioed the authorities and even alerted Arkham Asylum about the soon-to-be-arriving inmate. That was something he usually asked Babs to do but this time he felt like it was his obligation to handle it personally. He then gathered all of Prometheus' weapons and gadgets together and switched off his communications gear, heading for his car. Taking the cape and cowl with him, he had a very specific location he needed to get to quickly. He would have to update Barbara later.right now he needed to do this by himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Prometheus?" swore Bruce Wayne.

"That's what Dick told me," said the floating image of Oracle, also known as Barbara Grayson. The hologram of her green, iconic head swiveled around to face Bruce. "I uploaded the copy of Prometheus' personality you had made a of couple years ago to Dick's vehicle, minus the finer points of his abilities. Haven't heard from him since. It's been a few hours now and I'm getting worried."

Bruce sat behind his desk in the small office located below the Earth's surface. The Checkmate stronghold was only known to a few dozen people on the planet, and most of them were already inside the base. The room Bruce was currently in was lined with stainless steel walls and a layer of titanium armor. It would take a lot to force your way in on Bruce Wayne.

"Prometheus is a deadly enemy," Bruce said. "Dick can handle himself, but.what about his locator? No response at all from his comm unit?"

"None. His GPS is turned off. Well, I mean, I think it's turned off. He could have dropped it or--"

"Don't get yourself worked up, Oracle. Nightwing is one of the most capable people I know. He'll be alright. I'm sure.wait a second."

Several lights illuminated on the console built into Bruce's desk, taking his attention away from the floating hologram. Two red lights blinked rapidly, signaling a security breach. Pressing several keys on the pad, Bruce quickly called up a schematic of the complex and zoomed in on the areas detecting some kind of disturbance.

"Guard stations seven and eighteen, report in!" Bruce called into the small intercom connected to the console.

Silence blared back at him.

"I'm calling up my own systems diagnostic scan now," said Oracle. "I'm showing three camera feeds down, but only two alarms were tripped. Seismic and thermal. Looks like a single person got in and was able to avoid the rest of the alert systems. Switching to visual interface."

"Anything?" Bruce asked.

"Rerouting camera feeds.the guards at stations seven and eighteen are fine, just knocked out. No signs of any real struggle. Someone just blew through them."

"Wait, I'm getting a visual on the south corridor.Babs.sign off."

"What? But--"

"Sign off now!"

The door to Bruce's office slid open, light spilling into the dimly lit room. Nightwing stood in the doorway, his security pass card that Bruce had given him still in his hand. He stepped into the room and made eye contact with Bruce, emotions all blending together. A split second later, Nightwing shifted his vision to see the floating holographic image of Oracle, and his emotions became separated from what they had previously been.

"Barbara? What on Earth.Bruce! What the hell is going on?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Dick."

"Dick," Oracle said. "Dick, this isn't how we wanted you to find out--"

"Find out what, exactly?" Nightwing shot back. "That you knew exactly where Bruce was this whole time? That you could contact him whenever you wanted? I'll ask it again: what the hell is going on?"

Bruce pressed a key on his console's pad and the door slid shut behind Nightwing. "I know you and I haven't seen eye to eye concerning my role here at Checkmate, Dick. But you have to understand, this was the next logical extension of our work. I've taken what we were doing in Gotham and with the JLA and taken it global. After Maxwell Lord, Checkmate was in pieces and needed to be picked up. I couldn't let someone else come in and take those pieces for themselves. What if the Society had gained control of the vast recourses that Checkmate possesses?"

"We've had this conversation before. Several times. Get to the part where you tell me something I don't know."

"I've taken over as the Black King for Checkmate. Within the last few months alone, we've made tremendous progress in locating specific cells across the map. Most of the tracking has been thanks to our computer specialist. Our White Queen, Oracle."

As the last few words rolled off of Bruce's tongue, Nightwing looked longingly into the holographic image of his wife's alter-ego. He wasn't quite sure how he felt...

"Dick, I'm sorry," she said. "This isn't how it was supposed to work out. I know you don't agree with the way Bruce is handling things, but I do. You really wouldn't believe the progress we've made--"

"You're damn right I don't agree," Nightwing cut in. "And here's one of the main reasons." He opened up the small rucksack hanging from his shoulders and whipped out the cape and cowl he had taken from Prometheus. "Because you were here taking your war on crime global, you ignored what was happening in Gotham . Prometheus was pretending to be you and he killed a man."

Nightwing tossed the dark garment onto Bruce's desk and the normally straight face of the Black King was now anything but. Bruce knew that on a certain level, Nightwing was right. The true Dark Knight wasn't ashamed of the decisions he had made and didn't regret a single action during his time with Checkmate, but at the same time he knew Nightwing's argument held water.

"I told you something like this would happen," Nightwing said. "Even though you had me looking after Gotham , it was only a matter of time before things got out of hand."

"It couldn't have--"

"It happened, Bruce. We may see each other as equals now, but I'm still not you. I'm not Batman, and Gotham City needs Batman. I could have just used this security pass you gave me to walk in without damaging anything, but that wouldn't have driven my point home, would it?" Nightwing folded his arms over his chest, the pain from his ribs still nagging his pain receptors.

"Operations are moving forward as we speak," said Oracle. "We're bringing in countless terrorists, some of which are affiliated with the Society. You can't expect things to just shut down--"

"He's right," Bruce interrupted. "Dick is right, Barbara. I've let my ambition get the best of me. But at the same time, you're right, too. Checkmate has things going on that are too vital to just walk away from."

The three individuals let silence control the room. Bruce typed various commands into his console to turn off the security alerts while Oracle's floating image stared at Nightwing, who was staring at the floor. Each of them had reason to be angry but none of them could muster the words to get through the emotional baggage.

"When I was a small boy, after what.happened.to my parents," Bruce said, finally breaking the deafening silence, "I vowed I would do whatever I had to in order for events like those to never transpire again. I have to think about this, Dick. You're right when you say that Gotham needs Batman."

"I can do what is needed, too," Nightwing replied. "But it's a big city."

Bruce clutched the cape and cowl tight in his strong grip. He closed his eyes and tried to sift through all the thoughts swirling in his head. When he opened his eyes again, Nightwing was gone and Oracle's image had faded away.

Bruce Wayne sat down and began to contemplate his future. No matter what path he chose, dark days would undoubtedly be ahead for him. The family he had gathered around him over the years was definitely changing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Writer's Nest

At DC Infinity, Nightwing has ties to JLA, Checkmate, and our upcoming Batman and Batgirl series. It hasn't been easy coordinating with everyone to make sure we're on the same page, but I think we've done a fairly decent job. This issue obviously wraps up this arc but the story will continue soon in the affiliated titles. So, what's in store for Nightwing in the next few issues? Well, he'll have to deal with his feelings of mistrust concerning Oracle, the Penguin might swing by for laughs, and I'll be setting up a new system for the way Nightwing handles crime in Gotham City . As always, feedback is welcomed! See you next month!

-D. Golightly

7/5/06

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