Time stretched like molasses as Batman's mind processed the catastrophic security breach. His home, his sanctuary, the nerve center of his entire operation—violated. Dick was here. Alfred was here. Every secret, every piece of technology, every scrap of evidence that connected Batman to Bruce Wayne was exposed.
Alfred was already moving. Years of military training from his days in MI6 kicked in without hesitation. His weathered hands, steady despite his age, reached for the weapons cabinet—the one Bruce had argued against installing, the one Alfred had insisted on "for precisely this sort of uninvited guest."
"Alfred, don't—" Batman started, but the words came too late.
The old butler moved with muscle memory honed over decades, yanking the shotgun free and chambering a round with the fluid grace of a much younger man. The blast erupted through the cave like thunder, the sound amplified by the natural acoustics until it felt like the cavern itself was roaring.
Bane moved faster than physics should have allowed for someone his size. He twisted at the last possible second, his enhanced reflexes turning what should have been a center-mass hit into a glancing blow. Buckshot peppered his shoulder, tearing through tactical gear and drawing blood, but missing anything vital.
"The loyal servant draws first blood," Bane observed, his voice distorted through the mask but carrying what sounded almost like respect. "Commendable aim for a man of your years."
Alfred was already working the pump action, ejecting the spent shell with practiced efficiency. But Bane crossed the twenty feet between them in three impossibly quick strides. Before Alfred could bring the weapon to bear again, Bane's massive hand closed around the barrel, wrenching it away with such force that Alfred stumbled forward.
The backhand came almost casually—a dismissive swat that caught Alfred across the chest and jaw. But with Bane's enhanced strength, even that casual blow sent the butler spinning into the medical station. Surgical instruments scattered like silver rain as Alfred crashed into the examination table, his head striking the metal edge with a sickening crack before he crumpled to the floor.
"NO!" Dick's scream tore through the cave, raw with fury and fear. The boy was already moving, snatching up one of the prototype escrima sticks from the training area.
Batman felt something primal explode in his chest—a protective rage that the Lazarus water amplified into something almost bestial. His eyes flashed brilliant green as he launched himself at Bane, crossing the distance between them in a blur of motion that left afterimages in the air.
Their collision shook dust from the cave ceiling. Batman's shoulder drove into Bane's solar plexus with the force of a battering ram, actually lifting the giant off his feet. They crashed into the vehicle maintenance bay, demolishing a tool cart and sending wrenches and diagnostic equipment flying in all directions.
Batman didn't give Bane time to recover. His fists hammered into the mercenary's torso like pistons—left, right, left, right—each blow carrying the combined power of the suit's augmentation and the Lazarus enhancement. The impacts created shockwaves that cracked the concrete beneath their feet.
"There it is," Bane growled, absorbing the punishment like a mountain weathering a storm. His own hands came up, deflecting some strikes while countering with short, brutal hooks to Batman's ribs. "The fury beneath all that careful control."
Bane's hand shot out, faster than Batman could track, closing around his right wrist mid-punch. The giant's grip was like a hydraulic press, grinding the bones together until Batman's gauntlet servos whined in protest.
"That's what I've been waiting to see," Bane continued, twisting Batman's arm until the joint threatened to dislocate. "The real you. The beast under the bat."
Batman responded by driving his forehead into Bane's face, the reinforced cowl connecting with the metal mask in a ringing impact. Both men staggered, but Batman used the moment to break free with a complex counter-pressure technique he'd learned from Lady Shiva.
They separated, circling each other like predators. Around them, the cave's automated systems flickered and sparked where their battle had damaged control panels.
"This is between us," Batman snarled, his voice dropping into a growl that was more animal than human. "They're not part of this. Let them go."
Bane's eyes crinkled above his mask—amusement, or perhaps approval. "Everyone in this cave is part of it now, Detective." His gaze shifted deliberately to Dick, who was edging toward Alfred's fallen form while trying to keep the escrima stick ready. "Especially the boy."
Dick froze as Bane's attention focused on him. The massive mercenary took a step toward the child, and something in Batman's chest turned to ice.
But Dick didn't cower. Instead, the kid straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin, and called out in a voice that only shook a little: "Hey, Luchador! Your aim's almost as bad as your fashion sense! What's with the gimp mask anyway? Lose a bet?"
The sheer audacity of it—this ten-year-old boy taunting a man who could literally tear him apart—actually made Bane pause. His head tilted slightly, reassessing.
"The young acrobat has spirit," Bane noted, genuine interest in his tone. "Bold words from someone so... fragile."
That moment of distraction was all Batman needed. He exploded forward, driving his shoulder into Bane's kidney with every ounce of enhanced strength he possessed. The impact folded Bane sideways and sent them both crashing through a maintenance station, scattering tools and spare parts across the cave floor.
"Dick, check on Alfred!" Batman shouted as he grappled with Bane amid the wreckage. His hands found purchase on the tubes feeding into Bane's mask, trying to tear them free. "Get him to the medical bay!"
"I'm not leaving you!" Dick called back, but he was already moving toward Alfred, keeping the escrima stick ready while checking the butler's pulse.
Bane's elbow crashed into Batman's temple, making his vision strobe. The giant used the momentary disorientation to reverse their positions, pinning Batman against an overturned engine block.
"Your concern for them is admirable," Bane said, his massive hands closing around Batman's throat. "But ultimately pointless. None of you leave this cave alive tonight."
With a grunt of effort, Bane lifted Batman completely off the ground. The cave spun as Bane pivoted and hurled Batman across the central platform like a ragdoll. He crashed through the display case containing his oldest costumes—the gray and blue suit from his first year, the prototype armor he'd worn against the Mutant Leader. Glass exploded outward as the reinforced frame buckled under the impact.
Batman lay among the scattered remnants of his past, every breath sending fresh spikes of pain through his chest. The suit's diagnostic system was screaming warnings—multiple armor breaches, power cell damage, potential internal injuries.
Through the haze of pain, his parents' hallucinations materialized beside him. Thomas Wayne knelt by his head, his face half-decomposed but eyes blazing with paternal fury.
"Get up," his father commanded, decay dripping from his jaw. "He'll kill the boy if you stay down. Everything we died for, everything you built—he's destroying it all."
"My brave boy," Martha whispered, spectral fingers brushing his cheek as maggots writhed in her chest wound. "You have to protect them. Like we couldn't protect you."
Batman pushed himself upright, spitting blood that spattered dark against the shattered glass. His left arm hung slightly wrong—dislocated shoulder, maybe cracked collarbone. The suit compensated, rerouting power to support the damaged limb.
Bane stood silhouetted against the cave's main lights, a titan of muscle and malice. The tubes connected to his mask pulsed brighter, greener, as fresh Venom flooded his system. His chest expanded with each breath, muscles swelling visibly beneath his tactical gear.
"You have heart," Bane acknowledged, rolling his shoulders with a sound like grinding stone. "I'll give you that. But heart isn't enough. Not against what I've become."
Batman's fingers found one of his last smoke pellets. He flicked it at Bane's feet where it detonated in a cloud of thick, acrid vapor. As the smoke billowed outward, Batman triggered the cave's master lighting control through his gauntlet.
Darkness crashed down like a physical weight, plunging the vast cavern into absolute blackness. This was Batman's element—the darkness where he'd trained, where he'd forged himself from grief into something that made criminals flee in terror.
His cowl's night vision activated, turning the world into shades of green. Batman moved like a wraith through the familiar terrain, silent despite his injuries. Years of practice had taught him every stone, every shadow, every acoustic quirk of his sanctuary.
He circled behind Bane, noting how the giant stood perfectly still, head tilted as if listening. Batman struck like a cobra—a precise blow aimed at the nerve cluster at the base of Bane's skull. The same strike had dropped countless opponents, even enhanced ones.
Bane's hand snapped up, catching Batman's wrist inches from impact. The speed was inhuman, impossible.
"Oh, you think darkness is your ally," Bane said, his voice echoing off the cavern walls. His grip tightened until Batman felt his bones creak. "But you merely adopted the dark."
Bane pivoted, using Batman's own momentum to slam him face-first into a limestone column. The impact sent a spiderweb of cracks through the ancient stone.
"I was born in it," Bane continued, driving his knee into Batman's spine. "Molded by it."
Batman twisted desperately, breaking free with a technique that should have shattered his own wrist. But the Lazarus water was singing in his veins now, healing damage almost as fast as Bane could inflict it. He lashed out with an elbow strike that caught Bane in the throat.
The giant staggered back a step, coughing. Batman pressed the advantage, launching a flurry of strikes at every vulnerable point he could reach—throat, solar plexus, the floating ribs. His eyes blazed green in the darkness.
"I didn't see light until I was already a man," Bane wheezed, catching one of Batman's punches and using it to pull him into a devastating headbutt. "By then, it was nothing to me but BLINDING!"
The word came with a haymaker that Batman couldn't fully dodge. It clipped his jaw, spinning him around. Before he could recover, Bane's hands clamped onto his shoulders.
"The shadows betray you," Bane declared, lifting Batman overhead, "because they belong to me!"
He brought Batman down across his knee in a backbreaker attempt. Batman managed to twist at the last second, taking the impact on his reinforced side armor instead of his spine, but the force still drove the air from his lungs.
As Batman rolled away, gasping, he triggered an electromagnetic pulse from his belt. Every electronic system in the cave died instantly—including his own night vision. True, absolute darkness enveloped them both.
In that moment of shared blindness, Batman's hand found the floor. He'd prepared for this, for a scenario where the cave itself might be compromised. His fingers traced a nearly invisible seam in the stone, finding the hidden panel.
The explosive gel detonated with focused force, opening a ten-foot crater in the cave floor. Batman felt the ground vanish beneath him and grabbed blindly, catching Bane's tactical vest as they plummeted together.
They fell through twenty feet of empty air, grappling and striking at each other even as gravity took hold. Ancient stalactites shattered around them, raining down like stone spears. Batman managed to drive his elbow into Bane's mask just before they hit the underground river.
The icy water was a shock that momentarily paralyzed them both. The current immediately seized them, dragging them apart as it rushed through the cavern's lower levels. Batman's armor, already compromised, began taking on water through the damaged seals.
Batman surfaced, gasping for air, the cave's emergency systems already engaging backup power. Dim lighting flickered on, casting eerie shadows across the lower cavern. He pulled himself onto a secondary platform, water streaming from his damaged suit.
The Joker's hallucination was waiting for him, perched on a rock formation with that eternal grin. "Swimming now, Bats? Getting desperate!" The phantom cackled. "Though I guess when a guy twice your size is beating you to death in your own home, desperate is the right call!"
Batman ignored the hallucination, focusing on Bane, who was emerging from the water like some primordial creature. Despite being soaked, he looked more imposing than ever, water streaming from his massive frame.
"Innovative," Bane acknowledged, climbing onto the platform. "Most would have continued direct confrontation until failure. You adapt. I respect that."
"This isn't about respect," Batman growled, backing toward the geological collection he'd assembled over years of exploration. "It's about Gotham."
"Is it?" Bane asked, advancing deliberately. "Or is it about your need to control everything around you? Your inability to accept failure?" He gestured around the cave. "All of this—the technology, the vehicles, the trophies—they're monuments to your obsession, not your city."
From somewhere above, Dick called out, "Hey steroid-case! Up here!"
Bane's head snapped up just in time to see Dick drop from an upper ledge, swinging on one of the cave's grapnel lines. The boy released at the perfect moment, both feet connecting solidly with Bane's face. The impact was enough to stagger the massive man back a step—more from surprise than actual damage.
Dick landed in a fluid roll, coming up beside Batman with escrima sticks in both hands. "Two on one seems a little fairer," he said, his voice tight but controlled.
Batman wanted to order Dick away, to protect him from what was coming, but the reality was undeniable—they needed every advantage against an opponent like Bane. And the boy had just proven he wasn't going to retreat no matter what Batman commanded.
"Together," Batman said instead, nodding once to Dick.
The boy's eyes widened briefly in surprise before his expression settled into focused determination. "Together."
Bane studied them both, something like genuine interest in his eyes. "The mentor and student united. Touching." He rolled his shoulders, water still streaming from his tactical gear. "But ultimately futile."
He charged, moving with speed that defied his mass. Batman and Dick separated instantly, attacking from opposite sides with coordinated precision. Dick struck at Bane's legs while Batman targeted his upper body, their contrasting styles creating a combination that briefly overwhelmed even Bane's formidable defenses.
For a few heartbeats, they gained the advantage—Dick's acrobatic speed complementing Batman's methodical power, creating openings neither could have managed alone. Batman landed a solid strike to Bane's kidney while Dick connected with the nerve cluster behind his knee, momentarily disrupting his balance.
Bane recovered faster than seemed possible, lashing out with a sweeping backhand that caught Dick square in the chest. The boy flew backward, crashing into a stalagmite formation with bone-jarring force.
"Dick!" Batman shouted, momentarily distracted by concern.
Bane seized the opening, delivering a devastating combination that drove Batman back against the cave wall. Rock cracked beneath the impact, sections of the ancient cavern collapsing around them.
"The boy has talent," Bane acknowledged, pressing his advantage with methodical brutality. "But he lacks experience. As do you, when it comes to true partnership." A thunderous blow fractured Batman's chest plate completely. "You're still fighting as an individual, not as part of a unit."
Pain exploded through Batman's torso, internal injuries registering through the suit's damaged diagnostic system. He tried to create distance, but Bane had him pinned against the rock wall, each blow systematically dismantling what remained of his defenses.
"I expected more from the man who bested Ra's al Ghul," Bane said, lifting Batman by his damaged chest piece. "The detective who outwitted the League of Shadows."
He threw Batman across the platform, the impact driving what little air remained from his lungs. As Batman struggled to rise, his hallucinations manifested all around him—parents, the bat-demon, Selina, Talia, the Joker—all watching with varying expressions of concern, amusement, or contempt.
"He's going to break you," Thomas Wayne's phantom said, kneeling beside him. "Not just your body. Everything you've built."
"Let the rage consume you," the bat-demon growled, massive wings unfurling behind Bane as if claiming him. "The Lazarus water offers power beyond your imagination. Tear him apart!"
Selina's hallucination perched on a nearby rock, studying the battle with feline intensity. "He's trying to push your buttons, Bat. Wants you angry, wants you sloppy."
Bane approached deliberately, no longer hurrying. "I'm disappointed," he said, looming over Batman's battered form. "The myths surrounding you suggested something greater than this."
"He's not done yet," Dick's voice came from behind Bane, the boy somehow back on his feet despite the devastating blow he'd received. Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead, but his eyes were clear and focused. "Neither of us are."
Bane turned toward the boy, genuine irritation finally breaking through his clinical detachment. "Persistent. But foolish."
"Maybe," Dick acknowledged, twirling the escrima sticks with fluid grace. "But if I'm going down, it won't be hiding in a corner." He grinned despite the blood on his face. "Besides, that mask of yours is just too ridiculous to take seriously. Seriously dude, did you lose a bet? You look like some kind of S Nacho Libre."
The bizarre reference seemed to genuinely confuse Bane, who tilted his head slightly. "Nacho..."
"You know, Jack Black? Stretchy pants? Wrestling monks?" Dick continued, deliberately drawing Bane's focus. "No? Man, Santa Prisca needs better movie nights."
Batman recognized Dick's strategy instantly—distraction through deliberate provocation, creating an opening through psychological disruption. The boy was putting himself at risk to give Batman a fighting chance.
Using the distraction, Batman reached for his utility belt's final compartment—containing a specialized blade designed to penetrate even advanced armor. Originally created for encounters with militarized opponents, the narrow tungsten-carbide edge could slice through reinforced materials with surgical precision.
"The mask serves a vital function, child," Bane explained, still focused on Dick. "It regulates the Venom compound that gives me capabilities beyond ordinary human limitations."
"Vital function?" Dick laughed, the sound echoing through the cavern as he slowly edged to one side, forcing Bane to turn away from Batman. "It looks like something out of a third-rate bondage catalog. Does it come with a safe word?"
Something in Bane's posture shifted—irritation replacing clinical analysis. "Your attempts at psychological warfare are primitive but surprisingly effective," he acknowledged. "A useful skill, but insufficient against me."
"Who says I'm trying to beat you?" Dick shot back, eyes flicking briefly to Batman's position. "Maybe I'm just the distraction."
The boy whistled sharply—the same signal Batman had taught him during their training sessions. From the upper level of the cave, a shotgun blast echoed through the chamber. Alfred, somehow conscious again, had dragged himself to a position overlooking the confrontation.
The shot caught Bane in the shoulder, spinning him half around with the impact. Blood sprayed from the wound, but the mercenary remained standing, turning his attention briefly to Alfred.
"The old soldier," he growled. "Impressive resilience."
That momentary division of attention was all Batman needed. He launched himself at Bane with every ounce of remaining strength, driving the specialized blade not at Bane directly but at the regulator on his wrist—the control mechanism that managed Venom dosage.
The blade sank deep, tungsten-carbide edge slicing through reinforced components. Venom sprayed from severed tubes, the pressurized system transforming instantly from controlled delivery to catastrophic failure.
"NO!" Bane's eyes widened with shock, but there was no hesitation—he immediately lunged at Batman with a roar of fury. "What have you DONE?!"
His massive fist swung in a wide arc, catching Batman across the chest before he could fully retreat. The impact sent Batman crashing into the cave wall, rock fracturing around him as he hit.
"I'll tear you apart before it kills me!" Bane bellowed, charging forward even as the first wave of unregulated Venom flooded his system. His muscles were already beginning to swell beyond their enhanced state, veins bulging visibly beneath his skin.
Batman rolled away from a stomp that would have crushed his skull, the cave floor cracking under Bane's boot. As he regained his feet, he saw Bane's tactical vest split along the seams, unable to contain his rapidly expanding chest and shoulders.
"Dick! Containment pattern!" Batman called, recognizing they had minutes at most before the overdose rendered Bane completely uncontrollable.
Dick was already moving, the bo staff he'd used against Deathstroke extending to its full length in his hands. He vaulted over a fallen stalactite, landing in perfect position to create a pincer movement.
Bane swung wildly at Batman again, but his coordination was already deteriorating as the Venom surged unchecked through his system. Batman ducked under the blow, landing three quick strikes to nerve clusters in Bane's side that would have paralyzed a normal opponent.
Bane barely registered the hits. His body was transforming with each passing second—muscles swelling grotesquely, skin stretching to its limits, veins pulsing with toxic green. But instead of dropping to his knees, he attacked with redoubled fury.
"Kill you before—AARGH!" His threat dissolved into a howl of agony as another surge of growth rippled through him. The mask covering his face began to crack, unable to accommodate his expanding skull.
Batman used the moment to strike at Bane's knee, aiming to compromise his mobility. The blow connected with perfect precision—but Bane's leg barely buckled. The overdosing Venom had rendered him nearly impervious to pain.
Dick circled behind, using his bo staff to strike at the back of Bane's legs. The mercenary spun with surprising speed, swinging a massive arm that nearly caught the boy. Dick barely avoided the blow, his acrobatic training allowing him to twist in mid-air.
"Getting bigger, getting slower!" Dick called out, rolling to safety. "Patterns breaking down!"
He was right. Bane's movements were becoming less coordinated but terrifyingly powerful. The mercenary crashed through equipment racks, sending computer components flying as he pursued Batman with single-minded rage.
"System overloading—can't stop it—" Bane growled, his speech beginning to slur as the Venom affected his neural pathways. His tactical pants tore along the seams as his thighs swelled to inhuman proportions. "But I'll take you with me!"
He grabbed a massive steel cabinet and hurled it across the cave with such force that it embedded in the far wall. Batman ducked beneath the projectile, then immediately had to evade as Bane charged like a runaway train.
"Redirect his momentum!" Batman ordered Dick, who nodded understanding.
As Bane charged Batman again, Dick slid his bo staff between the mercenary's ankles. It wasn't enough to trip him—he was too massive for that—but it altered his trajectory just enough for Batman to sidestep. Bane's momentum carried him into the Batcomputer's main array, crushing equipment worth millions as he crashed through it.
"Dying—burning—" Bane snarled as he pulled himself from the wreckage, voice barely recognizable. His skin had taken on a sickly greenish tint, stretched so tightly over bulging muscles that it had begun to split in places. Blood tinged with green oozed from the tears. "Kill you first!"
Batman and Dick moved like they'd been partners for years, creating a fluid combat system that used Bane's deteriorating condition against him. When Batman drew Bane's attention, Dick would strike from behind. When Bane turned to pursue Dick, Batman would deliver precision blows to vulnerable points.
But even in his deteriorating state, Bane remained lethal. A backhand caught Dick by surprise, sending the boy flying into a display case. Glass shattered as he crashed through it, landing in a heap amidst broken trophies.
"DICK!" Batman shouted, momentarily distracted by concern.
Bane seized the opening, charging Batman with a roar that echoed through the cavern. His massive hands caught Batman before he could evade, lifting him off the ground in a crushing grip. Even through the armor, Batman felt his ribs creak under the pressure.
"Watch boy die first," Bane slurred, his face a twisted mask of pain and rage as he squeezed harder. The mask had completely shattered now, revealing a face contorted beyond recognition. "Then you."
Batman struggled against the grip, but Bane's overdosed strength was overwhelming even the suit's enhancements. Black spots appeared at the edges of his vision as the pressure increased.
Then a blur of movement caught his eye—Dick, bloodied but upright, launching himself from the wreckage with his bo staff extended. The boy executed a perfect aerial maneuver, driving the staff directly into Bane's eye with precision that would have made any circus performer proud.
Bane howled in agony, his grip loosening just enough for Batman to break free. He dropped to the ground, gasping for air as Bane clawed at his injured eye.
"You're dead, BOY!" Bane bellowed, lunging toward Dick with murderous intent.
Batman intercepted him, driving a flurry of strikes into the nerve clusters at the base of Bane's spine. The mercenary staggered but didn't fall, turning back toward Batman with renewed hatred.
"Together!" Batman called to Dick, who immediately understood what he meant.
As Bane charged again, Batman and Dick attacked simultaneously from opposite sides. Batman targeted the damaged regulator on Bane's wrist while Dick struck at the back of his knees with the bo staff. The coordinated assault disrupted Bane's balance, sending him crashing into one of the cave's structural columns.
The impact cracked ancient stone, but Bane pushed himself upright once more. His body was visibly failing now—muscles spasming uncontrollably, veins pulsing with toxic green, skin splitting further with each movement. His breathing came in ragged gasps, the Venom reaching lethal saturation levels.
Yet somehow, improbably, a flicker of his strategic mind remained. He assessed Batman and Dick with what lucidity he could muster, perhaps recognizing that his condition was now terminal.
"Finish it," he growled, each word a struggle against the chemical hell consuming him from within. "Prove... worthy... Detective."
Batman approached cautiously, Dick covering him from the flank with the bo staff at the ready. "It's already finished, Bane. Medical intervention is your only chance for survival now."
"Medical..." Bane attempted to laugh, the sound emerging as a wet cough, blood tinged with green spattering the ground. "How... civilized." He swayed unsteadily, his massive frame finally beginning to fail as the Venom reached lethal saturation. "Expected... execution."
"That's not who I am," Batman replied simply. "Not who we are."
The hallucinations swirled around Batman one last time—his father nodding with grim approval, his mother reaching toward him with decomposed hands, the bat-demon shrieking in frustrated rage. Batman pushed through them all, focusing on the opponent before him.
Bane studied him through pain-clouded eyes, genuine curiosity breaking through his chemical delirium. "Who... are you?" he asked, the question stripped of tactical calculation, reduced to human wonder.
Batman met his gaze steadily, and for once, didn't retreat from the question that had pursued him since he first donned the cowl.
"I'm Batman."
The simple declaration hung in the air for a moment—not dramatic, not shouted, just a statement of identity that carried the weight of absolute truth.
Bane's eyes widened slightly, as if the answer satisfied something profound within him. Then Batman struck with precise force at the nerve cluster behind Bane's ear—the only spot not protected by muscle, bone, or the grotesque swelling that had overtaken the rest of his body.
The mercenary collapsed instantly, unconscious before he hit the ground, his massive form creating a small seismic event as it impacted the cave floor. Dick approached cautiously, bo staff still extended, ready to strike if Bane showed any sign of consciousness.