Wayne Manor - 9:00 PM
The storm outside was violent, battering the windows of the manor with sheets of rain. Inside, however, the library was warm and quiet.
Bruce sat in his leather armchair, reading a file on Harvey Dent. Dick—Master Robin—was lying on the Persian rug, struggling with his algebra homework.
"If a train leaves Gotham at 60 mph," Dick muttered, chewing his pencil, "and another leaves Metropolis at 80 mph... why don't they just fly? Trains are slow."
"Focus, Dick," Bruce said without looking up. "Solve for X."
I stood by the fireplace, tending to the logs. The fire crackled comfortably. It was a domestic scene. A family scene.
Then, the fire went out.
It didn't fade. It was extinguished instantly, as if a vacuum had sucked the oxygen from the room.
The lights in the library flickered and died.
"Power failure?" Bruce asked, dropping his file. He reached for the lamp switch. Dead.
"No," I whispered. I stood up slowly, the fireplace poker in my hand.
I sniffed the air.
It wasn't the smell of a blown fuse. It was the smell of ancient dust. Rotting preservatives. Electrum.
"Young Masters," I said, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous register. "Move away from the windows."
"Sebastian?" Dick stood up. "What is it?"
"We have guests."
CRASH.
The library's massive bay windows exploded inward. Rain and glass shards sprayed across the room.
Four figures dropped from the ceiling. They were clad in black body suits, gold armor, and white owl masks.
Talons.
"Get down!" Bruce shouted, tackling Dick behind the heavy oak desk.
Two Talons landed on the rug. Two more clung to the bookshelves like spiders.
"William Cobb," the lead Talon rasped, pointing a gauntleted finger at the desk. "We have come for the Gray Son."
"You are trespassing," I said, stepping between the desk and the assassins. I held the iron poker like a rapier. "And you have tracked mud on my freshly waxed floor."
The lead Talon tilted his head. "The Demon. The Grandmaster said you would be a problem."
"A problem?" I smiled, my eyes glowing crimson in the dark. "I am a catastrophe."
I moved.
I thrust the poker. It pierced the chest of the lead Talon. I channeled my strength, lifting him into the air and throwing him into the fireplace.
THUD.
He didn't scream. He just rolled out of the ashes, pulled the poker from his chest, and stood up. His wound knit itself back together in seconds.
"Regeneration," Bruce hissed, popping up from behind the desk. He threw two batarangs. They embedded in the eyes of the Talon on the bookshelf.
The Talon ripped them out and jumped.
"Run!" Bruce yelled to Dick. "Get to the cave! Activate the security protocols!"
"I'm not leaving you!" Dick grabbed a heavy bookend.
"Go!"
The room erupted into chaos.
More windows shattered. They weren't just in the library. I could hear glass breaking in the kitchen, the foyer, the bedrooms.
"There are dozens of them," I realized, parrying a sword strike with my bare hand. The blade shattered against my skin. "A full siege."
I grabbed a Talon by the throat and crushed his windpipe. He gurgled and slashed at my face. I snapped his neck. He went limp—but only for a moment.
"Bruce!" Dick screamed.
I turned.
Two Talons had grabbed Bruce. They weren't trying to kill him. They were pinning him to the wall with throwing knives through his shoulders.
Thunk. Thunk.
Bruce grunted, struggling, but the leverage was impossible.
A third Talon—a massive one—lunged for Dick.
Dick flipped over the desk, using his acrobatics to dodge. He kicked the Talon in the face, but it was like kicking a brick wall. The Talon grabbed Dick's ankle.
"The Court claims you," the Talon hissed. "You belong to the circus. You belong to us."
"Let him go!"
I abandoned my fight. I teleported—moving so fast the air cracked—across the room.
I grabbed the Talon holding Dick by the back of his head.
"I said," I roared, my voice shifting into a demonic duality, "NO SOLICITORS!"
I slammed the Talon's face into the floorboards. I didn't stop. I slammed him again. And again. And again.
CRACK. SPLINTER. CRUNCH.
I drove his head through the hardwood floor, through the sub-flooring, and into the basement below.
I stood up, panting slightly.
"Master Dick, to the grandfather clock! The entrance to the cave! Now!"
"But Bruce—"
"I will get him! Go!"
Dick scrambled toward the secret entrance hidden behind the grandfather clock.
I turned to Bruce. He had managed to rip one knife out of his shoulder, but three Talons were beating him down. They were relentless.
I prepared to charge.
Suddenly, a voice echoed through the hall.
"Sebastian Michaelis."
I froze.
Walking through the shattered doors of the library was a figure I hadn't expected. He wasn't a Talon. He wore a suit, a white owl mask, and he carried a staff tipped with a glowing green crystal.
"We knew you were strong," the figure said calmly. "So we brought a leash."
He slammed the staff onto the floor.
The green crystal pulsed.
WAVE.
A shockwave of arcane energy rippled through the room.
It hit me like a physical blow. My knees buckled. It felt like burning acid in my veins.
"Witchcraft," I hissed, falling to one knee. "You... have... a warlock."
"We have collected many things over the centuries," the man said. "Including binding rituals for creatures of the pit."
He pointed the staff at me. "Hold him."
Invisible chains wrapped around my throat. I clawed at the air, choking. My strength—my demon power—was being dampened.
The Talons released Bruce. They turned to Dick, who was fumbling with the clock hands to open the door.
"No!" Bruce screamed, bleeding and battered. He tried to stand, but a Talon kicked him in the ribs, sending him crashing into a bookshelf.
The Talons surrounded Dick.
"Don't touch me!" Dick yelled, adopting a fighting stance. He looked small. So small against the wall of gold and black armor.
"Excellent," the man with the staff said. "Bring the boy. Burn the rest."
I looked up. My vision was swimming. I saw Dick's terrified face. I saw Bruce broken on the floor.
"Not... today," I growled.
I reached deep inside. Past the butler persona. Past the contract. I reached for the darkness that existed before time.
The green chains tightened, burning my skin.
Do it, the void whispered. Let the monster out.
My eyes didn't just glow red. They ignited.
"I..."
I stood up, fighting the weight of the spell. The floorboards beneath my feet splintered. The room temperature plummeted to freezing.
"...AM..."
Shadows erupted from my body. Not normal shadows. Living, tendril-like darkness that whipped around the room like a tornado.
"...A HELL OF A BUTLER!"
I screamed. The windows blew out again—outwards this time.
The green crystal on the staff cracked.
I lunged.
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