"So Julius, what is your plan to deal with Bruce Wayne... or Batman? We shouldn't take down Wayne Enterprises. We already own a decent amount of stock in the company, and it's an extremely profitable investment. Do you have a plan to deal with Batman?" I ask as the two of us walk through the reinforced corridors of Site-64 beneath Gotham City. Unlike most Foundation facilities, this one had only recently been established after we confirmed that this universe wasn't purely Marvel. Gotham existed. Batman existed. Meta-humans existed. To the Foundation, they were simply another category of anomaly waiting to be understood, catalogued, and, if necessary, contained. Julius had been placed in charge of expanding Foundation influence throughout Gotham while Darius continued dealing with SHIELD and ensuring the recent SCP-682 containment breach left no trace. Without Darius, half the Foundation's covert operations would simply collapse. He maintained our intelligence network, infiltration divisions, cover identities, and information suppression. The rest of us could build empires, but Darius ensured nobody ever realized those empires existed.
"Batman is a warrior, isn't he?" Julius replies with a faint grin. "Last time I checked, we possess an SCP that enjoys fighting skilled warriors."
"You don't mean..."
"I do."
I sigh. "That sounds exactly like something you would suggest."
Batman crouched silently upon a rooftop overlooking Gotham Harbor. For nearly three weeks he had been tracking a network of suspicious cargo shipments entering and leaving the city. The trucks themselves had ultimately proven meaningless—empty decoys designed to occupy investigators. It had taken every ounce of the World's Greatest Detective's deductive ability to realize the real cargo never entered those trucks at all. Instead, dozens of seemingly unrelated motorcycle gangs transported small quantities of Venom separately across Gotham before regrouping at hidden locations. Individually they looked insignificant. Together they formed a supply chain almost impossible to notice.
Bruce allowed himself a small nod.
Bane had become more careful.
Unfortunately for Bane...
Batman had become suspicious much earlier.
Yet something else bothered him.
Someone else.
For weeks he had carried the uncomfortable feeling that unseen eyes were studying him. At first he dismissed it as exhaustion. Alfred certainly had. Long nights, endless patrols and constant battles could make even him paranoid. But Bruce trusted instinct as much as evidence, and his instincts had kept him alive longer than logic alone ever could.
Someone...
Was watching Batman.
Not attacking.
Not interfering.
Simply...
Observing.
Bruce had quietly compiled a list of every organization or individual capable of such surveillance. Government agencies. Intelligence services. Rival corporations. Criminal organizations. Even obscure cults hidden throughout Gotham's underworld. One by one he investigated each possibility personally.
The Falcone Crime Family denied everything.
Carmine Falcone appeared entirely cooperative.
To Batman's extraordinary observational skills, the elderly crime boss seemed to be telling the truth.
What Bruce could never discover was that Carmine Falcone wasn't simply Gotham's most influential mob leader anymore. Years earlier he had quietly become one of the Foundation's deepest undercover operatives. His criminal empire supplied enormous numbers of D-Class personnel, laundered Foundation finances throughout the eastern United States, and maintained countless connections across the global underworld. Before receiving the assignment, Carmine had undergone advanced Mobile Task Force tactical training. Beneath the appearance of an aging businessman existed a remarkably capable strategist and combatant. Yet revealing even a fraction of that truth would destroy decades of carefully cultivated cover.
Hugo Strange likewise denied any involvement.
Penguin knew nothing.
Black Mask blamed rival gangs.
Every lead...
Dead.
Every suspect...
Clean.
Which only increased Batman's concern.
Eventually his investigation led him toward an abandoned warehouse on Gotham's industrial outskirts. The motorcycle gangs had vanished inside carrying insulated containers filled with Venom. Bruce landed silently upon a nearby rooftop and surveyed the building through thermal optics. Dozens of heat signatures. Armed guards. Reinforced entrances.
Exactly what he expected.
But something felt...
Wrong.
His instincts screamed louder than ever.
As Batman disappeared into the shadows surrounding the warehouse, several hidden Foundation surveillance systems quietly rotated to follow his movement. Hundreds of meters away, inside Site-64, Julius calmly watched the live feeds without saying a word.
"The bait took it," Julius murmured.
"It always would," I replied.
Batman believed he had discovered Bane's operation.
He hadn't.
He had just stepped onto the first square of a much larger chessboard.
Elsewhere beneath Gotham, containment teams quietly prepared a secure transport convoy.
Not for Venom.
For something far more dangerous.
The Foundation did not intend to kill Batman.
Not yet.
But if Julius's plan succeeded...
Batman would soon meet an anomaly unlike anything he had ever faced.