Harley's Intel and Gotham's Ancient Nursery Rhyme!

Chaos Direction headquarters, the president's office.

Link rolled the pure white feather gently between his fingers.

It felt cold, as though it had come not from a warm-blooded bird but from some ancient creature dwelling in the abyss.

There was no trace of tension on his face. If anything, he looked intrigued.

An owl.

An interesting symbol.

In a city shrouded by the Bat's shadow, the appearance of another bird of prey's emblem was a challenge in itself.

Harley Quinn sauntered in, swaying her hips. She had just finished "inspecting" their new territory and was in a mood as sweet as if she had downed a whole jar of honey.

"What's on your mind, sweetie?" She leaned in curiously and spotted the feather between Link's fingers.

"Oh, a keepsake from some poor little bird?"

"No, Harley."

Link held the feather out to her.

"This isn't an ordinary feather. Does it remind you of anything?"

Harley took it and sniffed. A faint scent of old books and earth reached her nose.

She knitted her brows and tilted her head, trying to remember something.

"Owls..."

Confusion flickered in her blue eyes. Then, as though a bad memory had surfaced, she shivered.

"When I was little, I lived in Gotham's old district. The old ladies in the neighborhood used to scare us naughty kids with a nursery rhyme."

Harley's voice dropped without her realizing it, taking on an eerie rhythm.

"Beware the Court of Owls, watching every move you make."

"Hidden in Gotham's grand old buildings, perched behind their walls and eaves."

"It's under your bed, it's inside your walls. It's everywhere, concealed in every place."

"Don't think you can hide a thing from it, or the Talons will put you in your grave."

When she finished, even Harley shuddered.

"They said the Court of Owls was real, made up of Gotham's oldest, richest people. They've ruled the city from the shadows for hundreds of years. If anyone disobeys them or gets in their way, their monsters—the 'Talons'—take that person away, and they never come back."

Link listened in silence.

Nursery rhymes passed around the streets often concealed the deepest fears.

The Court of Owls.

The Talons.

It seemed the stone he had tossed into Gotham's pond had sent ripples far enough to wake the crocodiles sleeping at the bottom.

"A legend is still just a legend."

Link smiled and put the feather away, as though it meant nothing to him.

"I only believe what I can see."

Seeing Link relax, Harley breathed easier too and went back to being her giggling, madcap self.

But once Harley left, the smile on Link's face turned cold.

He sat down at his computer, his fingers blurring across the keyboard.

Torrents of data flashed across the screen like a waterfall.

He did not search for a foolish keyword like "Court of Owls."

He knew a secret organization that had remained hidden for hundreds of years would leave no direct trace on the internet.

His targets were the Gotham City historical archives, rare-book collections in the major libraries, and the family trees and business records of dynasties that had endured for centuries.

He was looking for a symbol.

An owl symbol that appeared again and again across different eras, families, and buildings.

Several hours later.

Link's fingers stopped.

A vast web of connections filled the screen.

At its center was a sinister owl crest.

Dozens of thick lines spread from it, linking prominent names: Kobble, Elliot, Kane... These were among Gotham City's oldest founding families.

Even a branch of the Wayne family appeared on the chart.

Owl statues or crests appeared, sometimes openly and sometimes discreetly, in the architectural plans for these families' ancestral homes. Variations of owl wings and eyes were hidden in the logos of the seemingly unrelated trust funds and companies they controlled.

The nursery rhyme and the historical records corroborated each other perfectly.

The Court of Owls.

It was no legend.

It was Gotham itself.

It was a secret council of the city's most powerful elites, a Shadow Government that controlled Gotham's economy, politics, and even its history.

Link leaned back in his chair, studying the tangled web. His smile grew colder.

At last, he understood why Batman was so alone.

The enemies he fought had never been just street criminals.

He was fighting the rot in the very foundations of the city.

"Interesting."

Link murmured to himself.

"A King hiding in the dark, a knight keeping watch through the night."

"And now a third player has entered the game."

"If you all like hiding in the shadows so much, I'll set the whole city ablaze and see where you can hide then."