The Batman Experience, but Starting in Crime Alley

To die was to sleep, to sleep...

To sleep, perchance to dream—there was the rub.

For in that sleep of death, what dreams might come once we had shaken off this mortal coil must give us pause.

—Shakespeare, Hamlet

Batman opened his eyes and sat up in the luxurious bed.

Alfred had woken him and straightened the slightly rumpled bedding.

"Morning, Alfred."

"Good morning, Master Bruce."

After washing up, Bruce walked over to the dining table. A lavish breakfast had already been laid out, and his parents had begun eating.

"Bruce, we started breakfast without you. You certainly slept in today," Thomas Wayne said.

"Fa... Fa..." Bruce froze on the spot, unable to get the words out. For a moment, it was impossible to tell whether he was trying to say "Father" or the expletive "FXXK."

"What's wrong, Bruce? Are you feeling unwell?" Martha Wayne asked.

"I... I..." This warm, ordinary exchange left Bruce at a loss. He looked at his gray-haired parents, then stumbled into the bathroom in bewilderment and splashed cold water on his face.

It took Bruce the entire morning to accept his current circumstances. He was Bruce Wayne, a playboy and the head of Wayne Enterprises, though he had only taken over after Thomas Wayne retired.

And the Gotham City he lived in was, quite literally, safe and peaceful. Rachel Dawes had become its mayor, James Gordon the chief of the Police Department, and Harvey Dent the district attorney. Together, they had brought Gotham's crime and corruption under control.

As for Joker, Mad Hatter, Riddler, Poison Ivy... these deranged supervillains had recovered under Doctor Gilda's care, leaving Arkham Asylum practically deserted.

He had never been Batman, and there was no Batcave beneath Wayne Manor. Dick Grayson had never become the Original Robin, either. Instead, he had avenged his parents on his own before becoming Nightwing.

"This is too strange..." Bruce was pondering it when his phone suddenly rang.

"Natalia? What is it?"

"Bruce, I wanted to ask if you're free. I have a concert tonight," Natalia's voice came through the phone.

"I think... I probably won't have time." Bruce still hadn't figured out what was going on. He was in no mood for romance.

"All right... That's a real shame." Natalia hung up, sounding rather displeased.

Less than two minutes later, Bruce's phone rang again. The voice on the other end sounded familiar, but it took him a moment to remember it.

"Zatanna, is that you?" Bruce recognized the voice. "What is it?"

When Bruce was young, Zatanna Zatara had come to Gotham City with her father to perform magic shows.

That had been the first year after Bruce's parents were murdered. Hoping to cheer him up, Alfred had invited Zatanna's father to perform magic.

But Bruce hadn't been in the mood. He had sat quietly by the lake alone, until Zatanna came over and performed a coin trick for him.

Back then, Bruce had thought little of stage magic, dismissing it as mere trickery. Unfortunately for him, Zatanna could actually use real magic, and she had vanished into thin air right in front of him.

After that, Bruce had come to believe in magic and admire Zatanna more and more. They had grown closer, and he had become her first love.

"I'm planning a magic show in Gotham, and I wanted to invite you."

"Uh... I don't have time right now." Bruce politely declined Zatanna's invitation.

Bruce hung up, but his phone kept ringing.

"Sylvie St. Cloud? I'm not free these days..."

"Talia? I really don't have time to meet your father."

"Selene? You can take whatever you want from Wayne Manor..."

"Rachel, I have something to deal with right now..."

Bruce kept fending off his girlfriends, growing increasingly frustrated. He knew perfectly well that this wasn't his life. Bruce was him, but he wasn't Bruce.

Then Bruce suddenly glanced out the window. Someone wearing a bat cape was looking straight at him.

The naked envy in the man's eyes left Bruce momentarily stunned.

Judging by that outfit, though, this was clearly this world's Batman. Bruce vaulted through the window and went after him. He had a feeling this man might be the key to why his memories didn't match this world.

But the Batman outside the window didn't leave. Instead, he walked straight toward Bruce.

"Who are you?" Bruce asked.

"It's me." Roland pulled off the bat cowl, frustration written all over his face.

"What's going on here?" Seeing Roland's face left Bruce bewildered. He had guessed that beneath the mask might be another version of himself, Professor Hugo, Kate Kane, or even Joker. But Roland... he really hadn't seen that coming.

"I'll give you the short version. This all started with Harvey turning evil..."

"What? What happened to Harvey?" Bruce asked urgently.

"He had a bit of a mental breakdown. I was going to ask you for help, but Commissioner Gordon told me you'd been kidnapped," Roland said. "So I went to rescue you. It took a lot of effort to get you back."

"I think I remember something... A chandelier fell on me." Bruce thought for a moment. "I thought that was the dream."

"Yeah. While you were dealing with the Mob, you got ambushed and nearly blown up by a grenade. Then you got a faceful of Scarecrow's fear toxin, followed by a direct hit from a chandelier brought down by a stray shot. Then the Wonderland Device Mad Hatter left behind took control of you." Roland sighed. "I have to say, your resilience really is something else."

"I remember now... So this is 'Wonderland'?"

"Yeah. We're inside your dream." Roland nodded.

"Then how did you get in?" Bruce asked curiously.

"I heard the Wonderland Device creates your own ideal world, so after I took out the Mob and brought you back, I gave it a try," Roland said, looking thoroughly frustrated.

"And you ended up inside my dream?"

"Yeah. I thought I'd see a bunch of sexy nuns in spaghetti straps, but instead..."

Roland recalled the moment he opened his eyes. A gunshot rang out ahead of him, and a bullet brushed past him, striking his father in the chest.

Blood blossomed across his father's chest, swiftly soaking his clothes red.

His mother froze, then screamed. She had just reached out to shield her husband and son when another shot felled her too, sending the round pearls of her necklace scattering across the ground.