The mask sat heavy in Quentin's hands now, his gloved fingers curling tight around the porcelain edges. Across the room, Beth hugged her knees to her chest, staring at him with those wide, exhausted eyes.
"I think I want to leave Gotham," she said again, her voice barely a whisper.
Quentin exhaled slowly, grounding himself. He crouched in front of her, resting the mask on the floor between them.
"Okay," he said, his voice softening. "If that's what you want, I can figure something out. Somewhere safe. Somewhere where… you won't be hunted."
Beth didn't speak. She just nodded, pressing her forehead lightly against her knees.
Nolan straightened and paced a slow circle, the tension pulling at his spine. He didn't have safehouses outside the city. His network barely stretched past Gotham's decaying fingers. Safe was a foreign word.
His mind flicked through names, places, debts owed found nothing useful.
Until—
He stopped. Pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose.
There was one place.
One idea.
A bitter chuckle escaped him before he could stop it.
Beth looked up at the sound.
"You okay?" she asked quietly.
He dropped his hand and gave her the smallest, tired smile. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good." He crouched again so he was eye-level with her.
"I have an idea," he said. "We can get you somewhere safe. Somewhere… when your grandmother wakes up, you'll be easy to find. Somewhere nobody from Cadmus will reach you."
Her brows pinched together slightly, hope and worry clashing in her expression.
"You trust me?" Nolan asked.
Beth hesitated only a second. Then nodded.
"Alright," he said, rising to his feet again. "Then stay low tonight. Tomorrow… we start fresh."
He turned the mask over once in his hand, then tucked it carefully back into the briefcase.
***
The heat of the night shimmered off the cracked pavement.
Floodlights cut through the smoke curling from the shattered entrance of Project Cadmus.
Batman stood on the rooftop across the street, cape billowing behind him in the rising wind.
Below, the doors burst open.
Robin, Aqualad, and Kid Flash sprinted out into the open, flanking a fourth figure — a boy, older than them, broader, wearing a tight black T-shirt with a red Superman emblem across his chest. Superboy.
Right behind them, Superman, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, Flash, Green Arrow, and the rest of the Justice League strode out, emerging from the wreckage like a wave of living legends.
Voices rose up from the gathered crowd of reporters and onlookers, flashes snapping like strobe lights.
The young heroes stopped short at the sight of the League. Robin's hands hovered awkwardly at his belt.
Superman stepped forward slightly, staring at the clone at himself. The resemblance was undeniable.
Robin glanced at the others, then said quickly, trying to fill the silence,
"We did good right? We did a thing?"
Batman's gaze narrowed beneath the cowl. His voice was sharp, controlled.
"You did a thing. You hacked Justice League files, disobeyed direct orders, and endangered lives."
Robin shuffled slightly, his cape twitching.
"But… Cadmus was creating living weapons. It had to be stopped!"
Superboy stared straight ahead, fists clenched at his sides.
Superman's mouth pressed into a hard line. He didn't speak. His eyes, blue and uncertain, locked with Superboy's for a long, uncomfortable second.
Wonder Woman broke the silence, stepping forward, her voice strong.
"Their hearts were in the right place."
Batman didn't move. Didn't blink.
"Perhaps. But their methods were unacceptable."
Kid Flash muttered under his breath, "Way to be a downer, Bats."
Batman ignored him.
He turned toward Superman.
"The clone. What's your plan for him?"
Superman hesitated and for the first time, Batman saw it. Real hesitation. Not fear, exactly. Something worse.
Uncertainty.
Before Superman could answer, Martian Manhunter stepped forward.
"He belongs with us."
Superboy finally spoke — voice low, rough, filled with more feeling than he meant to show.
"I belong… with them."
He gestured to Robin, Aqualad, and Kid Flash.
The three young heroes exchanged stunned glances.
Gotham City
The Next Night
The darkness over Gotham was thick, oily the kind that soaked into your bones.
Batman swept across the skyline, boots skimming the lip of a rooftop as he landed. He paused a moment, scanning the city.
The usual signal wasn't active. Gordon hadn't lit it tonight.
But something else caught his eye.
A glow.
Not from the GCPD building — but a smaller rooftop, a few blocks over.
A bat-signal.
Different. Smaller. Makeshift.
Curious.
Without hesitation, Batman launched his grapnel and swung toward it.
Batman landed lightly, scanning the shadows with a predator's focus.
Nothing. No movement. No heartbeat out of rhythm.
He narrowed his eyes.
And then, from the darkest edge of the rooftop where the light of the signal barely touched they emerged.
Two figures.
A man, tall and sharp in silhouette, wearing an old theater mask:
one half grinning, the other weeping a grotesque clash of emotions frozen in porcelain.
And at his side, a small girl clinging to the hem of his coat, her head down.
Batman took a single step forward, ready.
The man spoke first. His voice was steady, low, almost grim.
"Cadmus is hunting her," he said. His gloved hand rested briefly on the girl's shoulder. "They won't stop. She's a telepath… young, but strong. And getting stronger. They have sent two teams to capture her both failed."
He exhaled, a slow, burdened breath that fogged the air between them.
"I don't have the resources to hide her. You do."
He knelt for a moment beside the girl Beth and squeezed her shoulder. She looked up at him, wide-eyed, trusting.
"I know you'll figure it out better than I ever could," he said, his voice barely above a whisper now.
"All I ask…" he stood, facing Batman squarely under the warped bat emblem in the sky, "is that she be taken care of."
Batman said nothing but the way he shifted, the way his cape stirred, it was clear he was about to speak.
Quentin patted Beth gently on the back — once, twice.
The silent signal.
Beth's little legs moved before Batman could react.
She bolted forward and latched onto him wrapping her arms tightly around his legs, her cheek pressing against the armored fabric.
Batman froze instinctively steadying himself not wanting to hurt her.
When he looked up again…..
Quentin was gone.
The shadow he had stepped from had swallowed him whole.
Only the battered theater mask, grinning and weeping in the night, remained burned into Batman's mind.
And Beth.
Small.
Frightened.
Trusting.
Clinging to him like he was the last safe place left.
Batman lowered a hand slowly to her head, steadying her.
The rooftop around them was silent except for the distant whine of sirens far below.