The Batwing's speed was beyond question—it reached Wayne Tower in just three minutes.
Jason Todd fired his grappling hook and leapt from the aircraft. Using gravity to his advantage, he crashed through the top floor's glass window with a powerful kick and stormed into Bruce Wayne's office.
Alfred, remotely piloting the Batwing, fired a compact equipment pod through the same shattered window. Inside was the latest version of the Batsuit.
Naturally, the loud commotion on the tower's top floor attracted the attention of the Joker's Talons below, and they immediately rushed upstairs.
Bruce Wayne began suiting up rapidly and barked, "Robin, handle them. Buy me some time!"
"Heh! On it! Just watch me!"
Jason whipped out two batons from his utility belt. With a flick, they extended and locked into place, forming a solid staff. The twin grips twisted and clicked—ready for battle.
In recent days, Alfred had taught Jason quite a few combat techniques. Given Jason's strength, which rivaled most adults, Alfred had recommended staff fighting—it was the best way to fully harness his raw power.
"Yah-hoo!"
The staff whipped through the air, leaving trails as Jason charged the Talons, who were just exiting the elevator.
Twelve Joker Talons, eyes cold and murderous, rushed at Jason. Unlike the gas-infected civilians below, Batman and Robin were their true targets.
The Joker had made it clear: anyone who stood in their way—especially Batman and Robin—must be eliminated.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Incoming throwing stars were all batted away by Jason's staff. He couldn't help but feel—Damn, I look cool right now!
Next came the clash of metal claws against his reinforced staff, each strike dangerously close to wounding him, yet he narrowly dodged every time.
But even the best fighter can be overwhelmed. Especially when it's twelve trained killers versus one teen hero.
Jason held out for a while, but then three Talons managed to flank him. One landed a strike on his back—sparks flew as claws scraped his armor.
The hit knocked him off balance. Sluggish to recover, he failed to block the frontal assault in time.
Two Talons delivered solid punches to his face, sending him flying through desks and crashing into the far end of the office.
"Ugh!" He spat blood. "Okay, being a hero's harder than I thought... this is way tougher than fighting street punks!"
Jason could feel his face swelling, a hot sting spreading across his cheek.
"F**k! You guys seriously suck!"
Swollen face or not, Jason had had enough. He powered up. His staff spun with fury, slicing through the air with whistling force.
Now, every strike carried bone-shattering power. If this thing landed clean, bones wouldn't just break—they'd shatter.
The Joker Talons were momentarily overwhelmed. Jason's raw power and fury sent them reeling. Limbs were broken—arms, legs, all snapped like twigs under his relentless assault.
If Batman hadn't warned him never to kill, those bones might've been necks.
Huff—huff—
Of course, that kind of rage burst had its cost. Jason was running low on energy. He staggered slightly, breath coming fast.
"Watch out!"
That deep, gravelly voice—Batman! Jason turned just in time to see a Joker Talon lunging with a wicked grin and a knife in hand.
Whish—Whish—Whish—Whish!
"Robin! Duck!"
Four Batarangs zipped in at impossible angles. Just before the Talon could strike—
BOOM!
They exploded on impact.
The shockwave blasted them apart. The Talon flew the farthest, taking the brunt of the blast.
Batman followed up instantly, slamming into the Talon and dislocating every joint with surgical precision—paralyzing him permanently.
Then, he rushed over and helped Jason up from the floor. "You okay, Robin? Still conscious?"
Jason rubbed his aching head. "Ugh… yeah, I'm good. Just… winded. Didn't see that one coming."
As the touching Bat-family moment unfolded, something horrific happened.
The Talons Jason had disabled—snapped limbs and all—stood up again. Every single one.
They were coming at them, relentless as ever.
Jason was stunned. Everything he'd learned about first aid, fractures, and anatomy was being tossed out the window.
"No way! I broke their bones! They shouldn't even stand, let alone attack!"
He started doubting reality—was that epic 1-vs-12 moment just a dream? Were they… pretending to be hurt?
Batman's eyes narrowed. He seemed to realize something and told Jason, "Robin, sit this one out. Watch my moves carefully."
Nothing beats real-time combat lessons.
Batman spun around, slamming a straight punch into a Talon's gut, followed by a spinning heel kick that launched him across the room.
Before he could recover, two more Talons leapt at his back, daggers drawn—fast and silent.
But Batman moved like he had eyes in the back of his head. He reached back, grabbed both arms mid-air, and with a burst of strength—double shoulder-throw!
Both Talons hit the ground hard. Batman wasted no time—he dislocated every joint.
"Against enemies with rapid regeneration, dislocating limbs is more effective than breaking bones…"
But before Batman could finish his sentence, the two Talons he just disabled began to move again—joints cracking back into place like nothing had happened.
Batman's brow furrowed. "I was wrong. This isn't superhuman healing. It's something else…"
As he calmly blocked their next wave of attacks, he analyzed in real-time.
"Reflexes are still sharp… means nervous system's intact. Might respond to electricity."
From his utility belt, Batman pulled out a set of compact electroshock devices—each no bigger than a button.
Each one could deliver a shock powerful enough to stun an elephant, with continuous output for five full minutes.
Using his unmatched agility, Batman danced through the Talons' attacks, planting the devices on their bodies mid-combat.
Arcs of electricity sparked to life across the Joker Talons' bodies. The high-voltage shock hit hard—paralyzing them in place.
"Looks like electricity does work on them!" Batman noted.
"Whoa! Why don't I have cool stuff like that?" Max dug through his own gear pouch in frustration. Not a single trace of those slick little gadgets!
Batman answered coolly, "You'll get tools like these when you pass your basic training. Rest up—next we're going to help—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
The Talons, despite having been stunned, began ripping the shock devices right off their own bodies. Sparks still flickering on their skin, they powered through the pain and kept moving.
"What the heck, man?! What are these things!?" Max's eyes widened. "They're not normal people, right? Don't tell me they're… aliens or something?!"
Batman: "…"
His fists clenched tight. Real tight.
This was turning into one of those nights.
Another failed takedown, another enemy refusing to stay down—it was frustrating, and worst of all, it was screwing with his image in front of his sidekick.
And right then, Alfred's voice crackled through the comms:
"Sir, they're unkillable. Officers across multiple precincts have already opened fire. But even after taking bullets, these things heal almost immediately."
"Unkillable?" Batman's voice dropped, dangerous and cold.
His famous "no-kill" rule applied to humans. But these things? If they weren't human, all bets were off.
To test Alfred's claim, Batman flicked out the arm-blades from his gauntlets and charged one of the Talons.
A few more leapt in to defend—but Batman was done holding back. In one fluid motion, he hurled ten Batarangs with pinpoint accuracy.
BOOM! x10.
Explosions blasted most of the Talons back. Two remained, perfect for a little… experimentation.
Batman stepped in and sliced at one Talon's arm. The limb hit the floor with a sickening thump, leaking foul-smelling blackened blood. Something was deeply wrong.
A glance was enough. Batman, the world's greatest detective, could tell:
This body had been dead for at least a month.
And yet—it moved. It fought. It didn't rot. No science-based drug could do this.
That only left one explanation—magic. And Batman hated magic.
The one-armed Talon lunged again.
CRACK! The other arm dropped clean off.
Now it just stood there—grinning at him.
Mocking.
"Alfred, contact Zatanna. Tell her we've got a potential magical anomaly in Gotham."
Elsewhere…
Max, just arriving back in Gotham, was… confused.
"Why's there traffic at the entrance to the city?" he muttered.
Even weirder—the cars weren't entering, they were fleeing. Like a mass exodus.
"Uh, hey! Excuse me, sir—what's going on here?" Max leaned down toward the window of a dented old car. A grizzled man inside honked impatiently and waved him off.
"Beat it, kid! Gotham's gone nuts again! That crazy Joker is out, and he's tearing the whole city apart!"
"I'm gettin' the hell outta here, and I ain't coming back until they've locked him up again! Now where the hell's the damn roadblock crew?!"
Max blinked.
"Wait… what?!"
He'd only been gone a few days—and this is what happened?
'No way… don't tell me this is my first real major event?' Max thought, equal parts terrified and excited.
'Holy crap, is this… is this finally my main character moment?!'
Throw Power Stones