(Alton Carver POV)
Finally ... finally I can talk freely now. I managed to remove the mind-controlling pin... Now I have to go warn the Court. I'll go now when it's still dark. Calling would be too dangerous. The little shit will pay, I will make sure of that myself. Fuck the Court on that.
I have been doing these boring errands for the boy, and it is time that was over. Without further ado, I make my way to one of the secret hideouts. I take off all my clothes and any devices that even remotely resemble anything he created.
After that, I set the entire place on fire and left. It was important that he didn't know where I lived or what I was doing. And even if he did know now, it would be too late. I was already out of his reach.
.
I made sure to hide my tracks well and not use any electrical devices for a few hours. I made it to my third safe house and only then contacted the Court.
"This is Talon. I was compromised for the last couple of weeks. But I am finally free, and we need to report immediately. The Court needs to know of the information I hold," I say to the person listening.
"Received message. How urgent is it?" the voice said.
"Highest priority. Concerning B... ...ay..e ... Ah shit."
Fuck! I couldn't say his name. It seemed the after-effects were still there. What did he do? Was this intentional or an after-effect? I just... can't say his name... how is this possible? I will have to take some time off after this.
"Please repeat. Highest priority, concerning who?" the voice said.
"I can't say the name right now. Please tell the Court members that we have to meet at the earliest time. It concerns Gotham's future, the Court's glory and is very important. Talon out."
This should get them together fast. I have to get this information out and then deal with the little monster. I do wonder why I didn't deal with him right away... I could have just killed him, now that I am free. But there is the chance that he has some form of protection, and if I'm unable to tell the Court about it, I might as well kill myself.
No, I need more information and to be smart about this. I hold all the cards in this.
.
The meeting was scheduled for the day after tomorrow. I guess they are calling all the important members to attend this. The board must guess the reason for my emergency call and figure out that it was about Bruce Wayne.
That's good, at least, so I won't have to repeat my failure and shame that many times. I will probably be killed off for this failure, but if I tell them just how dangerous he is, they might forgive my mistakes. No, they will need me. Normally, the Court of Owls isn't forgiving at all, and they're already looking for my replacement. I'm aware of that. It's not the first time I've made a mistake. But it's the first time I made a mistake this big.
I fucked up badly, and I'm not sure redemption is possible. But the potential of Bruce Wayne and his clear intellectual genius is immeasurable. The Court will be most pleased with this intel, and who knows, if push comes to shove, I know how to escape. They won't find me.
I arrive at the location sent to me. It is a secret location, one of the many usual places where the big council meets. I enter through the secret entrance and make my way to the main hall, where I am met with the usual condescending looks of most of the members. Despite their masks, I can see it in their eyes, the feeling of superiority, just because of money and political power.
I don't bow; that is something for underlings and weaklings. I am a proud Talon. No matter what the result is tonight, I have my pride.
"Talon, you have called an emergency meeting of the highest order, and the Court of Owls has assembled to hear this news you speak of. What is this we heard that you were compromised for the last couple of 'weeks'?" the leader of the Court begins the meeting.
"That's right, dear Court. Something of grave importance has occurred. Since the last time, I brought you the news of the situation concerning "/("*ç/%"( )"*ç%"% ..."
"What was that? Speak clearly, Talon!" one member says.
"That's that thing, dear council. I am unable to say the name of the... b..bo-boy ... *haaa haaa haaa* It is impossible to speak of him...," I say after breathing hard.
I don't understand what this is. I am making a fool of myself. But maybe this helps sell just how dangerous the little monster is.
"You can't speak of... him? Who is that person you are talking about?"
"That's the problem... it is impossible to say his name. It happened when I was in the hospital... the person managed to take control of my mind with a device and has held me in his clutches ever since.
Using my training, I gradually weakened the control over the weeks and finally broke free and removed the device two days ago. It is, however, still impossible to say the person's name in any way. I tried over the last two days, and even tried to write down his name on a piece of paper or on a phone, with no luck.
I don't know what he did to me, but whatever it was, it was extremely dangerous. He is not even that old and has already come up with world-changing technological devices. I urge the Court to deal with him now as fast as possible and not give him time to... to... *Urgh*"
I try to continue to speak, but it is impossible. I feel nauseous and like there was something... inside me! What was going on? Someone, please... help me...
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(3rd Person POV)
"And who is this grand inventor and creator that poses such a threat then, Talon?" the Judge of Owls asked.
The Judge of Owls was the mysterious leader of the Court of Owls. He was the only one with a differently coloured owl mask and held the authority to call meetings and create rules. Seeing this, he wasn't stupid; he realised that it was serious, or so the Talon claimed. But even if he didn't believe him, he had to make sure. The Court of Owls hadn't survived until now through ignorance and lack of open-mindedness.
[That would be me!]
A mechanical voice suddenly sounded in the hall, surprising everyone. The Court looked at the Talon, as that was where the sound came from. Something disturbing was going on: the man's eyes had rolled back, his mouth was wide open, and he just kept it open. He wasn't using his lips, but the sound came from him.
"This is no time for jokes, Talon. As far as I am concerned, I think you have already outlived your usefulness," a member said.
[Oh, but that wasn't the Talon, little owl,] the same voice said.
It still came out of the Talon's mouth, which he had still wide open. But he wasn't moving his mouth. Tears rolled down his face as he was clearly desperately trying to close his mouth and regain control over his body.
Then something else happened. The Talon began to convulse, and his muscles spasmed uncontrollably. This caught everyone by surprise and made them a little unnerved. It lasted for about seven seconds before it suddenly stopped. The Talon looked up, and something else occurred after that.
His eyes began to glow blue-white. Then his eyes blinked a few times, and light came out of them, projecting the image of someone into the hall for everyone to see.
"Is that..."
"No way!"
"You're..."
"Bruce Wayne," the Judge of Owls said finally.
[In the flesh... or rather in the projection,] the voice came out of the Talon's mouth.
In a Star Wars-like fashion, Bruce Wayne's upper body was seen looking at them. He had an amused smile as he looked at all of them. How could he see them? He forcefully controlled the Talon's eyes with another device and moved them around the hall to see them. It was deeply disturbing, but so was the event of his new life.
"What is this?"
[This is me completely shitting on you and your order. It is also a test to see if my tinkering is functional. The beta testing, if you will.]
"You are speaking through the Talon? How are you doing that?!"
"We must have this technology!" someone screamed.
[Hahaha, you're all shining in a green colour. How unbecoming of such pompous pricks like you are. But I guess that is how you got rich in the first place, isn't it?"]
"How are you doing this?" the Judge asked.
[Well, after I had the good Alan under control, I used him as an, how shall I put this... experiment. A guinea pig, yes, that's good. Technology of this magnitude has to be tested after all. And since you so graciously sent him to me on a silver platter, how could I refuse?]
The Talon's body moved slightly, alerting Bruce. It seemed the Talon was unhappy with being used that way. How inconvenient.
[Oh, what is that? Did you think you were allowed to sleep? No, no, no, my dear test subject. I used the time you thought you were sleeping to modify your body. I added a nice little device to your vocal cords to control them remotely, and another one to your brain to see what you see and, of course, control you and project myself. Elementary, really.]
...
It was silent in the hall for a moment. No one seemed to fully understand the implications of what was happening. And who could blame them? It was ridiculous and unprecedented. It was easier to dismiss this as some power play from a powerful enemy than to admit that a boy of less than 10 years was doing this. The implications...
"You truly have to enter our order. It has been foretold, and this proves it," the Judge of Owls said.
[Touching. But I must decline. You see, this is my goodbye to you all. I just did this to tell you how much I despise you all and what you have done to humanity all these years. You had so much time, and you wasted it on greed and the pathetic attempts at political power. How pathetic.]
"What do you mean?"
"This brat!"
[I have gathered you all here for your execution. I implanted the Talon with quite a powerful bomb. He is quite literally a walking bomb right now. This is what I mean. See, this is me using my test subject for more than just one experiment.]
"What?!"
"Impossible!"
"We have to get out!"
"SILENCE!" the Judge shouted.
"You would kill hundreds just like that? Do you want us to believe a prepubescent boy could or would do that? You would go against all that your father has ever stood for."
[You've clearly mistaken me for someone who gives a shit. I didn't even plan to do it that way, but it's fine either way. I am not my father. Say about Thomas Wayne what you want, but you went against the interests of humanity and have nothing to show for it. You have been found lacking.]
"Then what about all those people who will be affected by the blast? Are you that heartless that--"
[Throne, you're ruining everybody's last moment alive. Shame on you.]
A beeping sound was heard as Bruce activated the bomb. This made everyone panic and shoot up, attempting to flee. People began running and crashing into each other. Those who were weaker were thrown to the floor and trampled over.
"No! Please, we can make a deal. I'll give you any--"
[No.]
*BOOOOOOOOOOM*
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"BREAKING NEWS: BIG PART OF GOTHAM'S HIGH SOCIETY DIES IN TERRIBLE BOMBING"
Those were the headlines of the newspaper the next day. Bruce was having breakfast and enjoying his tea when he read the newspaper and listened to the news. His face was devoid of any emotion or sign of guilt. As if he hadn't just killed dozens of people in a blast.
"An unknown source says that some of the richest were attending a party last night when a terrorist organisation known as the Skunks attacked the party in a suicide attempt, resulting in many deaths. Right now, there are no known survivors, but the investigation is still underway, according to the police.
Judging by the smell in the area, the name of the terrorist organisation is well-deserved. It does indeed smell like a skunk's strong secret. According to the source, it was apparently a... forgive me for saying this, but it is true; a fart bomb. But that can only be a sick joke if it's true. Someone with the most morbid of humours has attacked Gotham.
Reporting live from Gotham
Jessica Vale"
"Haha, how could she say all that with a straight face. Fascinating what the news in this city will swallow as long as it gives them a good story. I never thought it would make it into the news."
Bruce was not laughing, but he had a slight smile, shaking his head in amusement. He thought it was interesting to mess with the media, get to know them better, and learn how to manipulate them effectively. It was essential to know how the media in your city worked. That's why he messed with them a bit and called them last night anonymously. Funnily enough, he indeed called it a fart bomb, but when he told them that, he didn't expect it to make it into the news. Who in their right mind would say that in the same breath as reporting that so many people were killed?
"Sometimes my genius... it almost makes me arrogant."
His smile disappeared a moment later, and he thought about the implications of his actions. His words weren't lies, as he saw the Court as a useless organisation filled with self-interests more than anything and not willing to help humanity at all. Such a tumour would be cut out and not allowed to fester.
.
That was what Bruce managed to do in one week. ONE WEEK of trying to figure out a new project, and Bruce invented a new, powerful, infinite energy source that is beyond powerful and clean as well, and bombed a big portion of Gotham's criminal high society to smithereens. And he wasn't even 12 years old yet. What was he going to do when he became a teenager? Pickle Bruce would truly make his debut.
It seemed that an unhinged Bruce Wayne was far too dangerous to let loose on the world. But in truth, he was anything but unhinged. All of his actions were calculated and planned. He was far too much Constantin Valdor to allow chaos to dictate his actions. Someone had to stop this... boy. Time travellers will wish they had taken this moment to get rid of Bruce because they won't be able to in the future.
Who was he kidding? They wouldn't be able to do it now either.
Bruce was growing and, as it turned out, at a fast rate. He was gathering experience in this world. He was putting his intelligence to use. And the more time passed, the better he got at using his talents to their fullest. It won't be long, and he will delve into impossible science and things that only higher-dimensional beings could understand.
With his templates, he was bound for unimaginable greatness. Brainiac, who?
Yeah, no one was prepared for that.