Damian's nightmare

"Dreams are indeed a very powerful ability," Raven said, "But the threat is greatly reduced once you're aware that you're in one."

"When a group of people are in the same dream, it's all too easy to spot the flaws."

"As expected of my daughter—" Demon Trigon revealed a smile, "But now that you know this is a dream, you should understand that your attacks are useless against me, right? And as long as you feel even a little fear, even a little belief, that is reality—"

"Really? Your reaction just now didn't seem like you were completely unharmed." A wand appeared in Raven's hand. "If I'm not mistaken, this is where everyone's Inner Demon manifest, like Rose's father, but to me, you're just—a punching bag that won't break? That's interesting."

"War Magic: Dance of the Crows!"

The Magic of the sky and the earth converged, Raven split into many clones. Various ancient spells and mysterious Ritual movements slowly unfolded, and the fluctuations of Magic within her body spread out like surging waves, gradually forming a vast and turbulent torrent of Magic.

"Damn it, what is this thing?" the Demon Trigon exclaimed in surprise.

"Here, my Magic is almost inexhaustible!" the Raven declared, its eyes gleaming with purple light. With a muffled roar, the Magic in the surrounding space seemed to ignite, unleashing a surging Heat Wave. Thousands of giant Raven surged forth like a tidal wave, heading straight for the Demon Trigon.

"Damn it!" Enraged, Demon Trigon unleashed a barrage of magic at the Raven like a meteor shower. "I refuse to believe I can't wear you down!"

"You really can't do that." Raven smiled. "You think you could bully me in my dreams?"

Suddenly, a giant magic wand shaped like a pickaxe appeared in her hand. "Try this."

"----ah?"

"Tsk, I've had my fun, but I hope nothing bad will happen to the others." Raven said, tidying up the Demon Trigon while also worrying about the others.

Those she pulled into the same dream realm through mental connection are fine; if their minds are truly harmed, Raven can immediately provide assistance. But—what about the others?

"Sigh, I hope nothing bad happens to those shady men in the Wayne Family."

Triangle Docks, Gotham City.

The remains of humans and fish were mixed together, making the place extremely filthy and putrid.

"This massacre seems to have happened only a few hours ago. Search the area, Robin," Batman said to Damian.

"Damn! There are so many corpses! Most of them are beggars and homeless people, which is why there are so few missing persons reports." Damian, suppressing his nausea, rummaged through the pile of corpses. "Oh no! This smell is making me want to vomit."

"Keep searching, maybe there's a clue."

"----Hmm----What is this? God is blind, I really have to put my hand on it—" Damian's voice suddenly rose, "Oh, no---- Tim?"

"What?" Batman's heart skipped a beat.

"Oh dear, my bad. Just some unlucky guy who looks just as ugly as him."

"Any leads?" Batman asked Damian after searching for another ten minutes or so.

"No, just a bunch of Deadman," Damian said impatiently.

"They were once living, breathing people, Robin, with vibrant lives and souls. We must now apprehend the beasts who committed this—stay vigilant!"

"Yes, yes, as you command!"

"Focus your energy, young man! There's no time for you to play games right now!"

Does your Bat cloak inherently possess that exaggerated rhetoric?

The two continued searching through the pile of corpses until Batman found a fish with a Joker painted on its face.

"Huh? Batman, watch out!"

A bomb was attached to the bottom of the fish, and when Batman touched it, flames shot into the sky.

The blast wave threw Damian away. He felt a tightness in his chest, spat out a mouthful of blood, and his vision blurred.

Splattered with corpse debris, Damian couldn't smell it anymore. Damian struggled to his feet and headed towards the explosion site. "It's like Hamburger —the bomb released an extremely low Impulse frequency; I heard it activate—why didn't he? The cloak's sonar must not have picked it up."

"He's here, I must get him out."

"Batman?" Damian stared at the corpse on the ground, then fell silent.

A few weeks later.

After Bruce Wayne's funeral, Damian drove a speedboat to an island in the Middle East.

This is the headquarters of the League of Assassins, and also one of the many lairs of Damian's maternal grandfather, Ra's al Ghul -el Gur.

"It's also my birthplace—if that counts as my birthplace—all of this makes me feel uncomfortable."

"Master Damian, because of your unexpected visit, they have changed their plans and intend to come see you instead."

"Well, hopefully they'll get there soon." Damian looked at the group of Clone in jars. "Do you guys celebrate Halloween every day here?"

"----Since then, I've become several different versions of myself---- It's quite unexpected that my name isn't Frankenstein, but I guess that name has already been used."

"What wind blew you here—my son?" Talia greeted Damian, saying with a hint of sarcasm, "It's a pleasure to see my son only once every ten years."

"This child has come back to ask us for help, Talia. At least show some politeness before we say no," Ra's al Ghul said to Talia.

"I—I believe you already know, Grandpa— Batman is dead." Damian paused for a moment, then spoke, "The killer is still at large. Although I hate myself for saying this, I need your help."

"Anyone could see the guilt on your face, Damian. I, too, am saddened by Batman's death." Talia sighed. "The bond between him and me was legitimate. You were born to be the King of Warrior —but you chose to become a Robin —with the name of a wild bird, how tragic."

"I knew you'd say that," Damian said firmly, turning to leave. "I let Batman down while he was alive, and now that he's gone, I can't let him down. Even if you won't help, I can still avenge him!"

"Because you are Batman's heir, we must sever your ties with the League of Assassins," Ra's al Ghul called out to Damian. "But the Batman bloodline is something to be proud of and honored by, and therefore must be passed down; this bond must not be broken. Destiny has brought this moment to you; it is no accident. You must step forward—and become the next Batman."

"Me?" Damian shook his head. "Grandpa, don't joke around."

Gotham City.

After the explosion, news spread that Batman was dead, and Gotham City's various criminals began to jump on the bandwagon, each claiming responsibility for the incident.

Then they began to be hunted down by a smaller version of Batman.

[Killer Croc Entry]

[Killer Croc claims to have killed Batman: I chewed on his Bat heart while listening to his screams and pleas for mercy!]

In the Gotham City Sewers, Killer Croc's limbs and mouth were tightly bound by steel cables, and serrated blades severed him at the waist, as if he had been torn apart by some kind of creature.

[Firefly entry]

[The Firefly claims to have killed Batman: I set him on fire and watched him dance in the flames, burning to a crisp.]

On the streets of Diamond District, Firefly was stripped of all his equipment and clothes and hung naked on a street lamp for half an hour. Just as the Police were about to come and take this indecent man down, he was doused with gasoline and burned to ashes.

[Professor Pyg entry]

[Professor Pyg claims to have killed Batman: I drugged him at the Circus and injected him with my new invention—but the dosage doesn't seem to have been precisely controlled.]

Inside the strange Circus tent, the Circus members were all lying on the ground, while Professor Pyg had been given a veterinary aphrodisiac that "the dosage seemed to have been poorly controlled" and then locked in the pigpen.

Wayne Manor.

"You must be completely unaware of this series of assassinations, young master Damian?"

"Hmm... this must be a specially trained professional with specific beliefs." Damian mumbled a few perfunctory "hmm"s while eating his Sandwich.

"Yes, perhaps." Alfred sighed. "I think you know, without me telling you, that this goes against all of your father's values, doesn't it?"

"Then why did you tell me that again, Pennyworth?"

"You think his death is all your fault. You want revenge for Batman," Alfred advised. "Batman understands the risks. It's part of the job. He will never think it's your fault—but he will think it's your fault for these premeditated murders."

"Batman is gone! Gone!" Damian slammed his fist on the table, leaving a fist mark. "And it's all my fault! So whether you like it or not, Pennyworth —I'm going to keep going."

Roland Cathedral.

Even so, Damian still went into the Church, leaned back in the confessional Chair, and poured out his heart to the Priest on the other side, whose face he could not see.

"You look very tired, child. Do you have some sin you wish to repent for?" the Priest asked Damian. "Did you come here because of guilt?"

"I—I'm not sure, Priest," Damian said, somewhat bewildered. "Is cleansing a sinful soul considered an injustice? Does that count as saving a soul?"

"My child, listen to me—I have known your family for a long time and have always respected you. I have always looked after you all. Your methods go against your father's most basic moral principles—but are completely in line with mine."

"Huh?" Damian had expected to hear the same advice as Alfred, but this turn of events was quite unexpected.

"Keep going, kid. If you feel pressured after you're done, come and confess to God. God will forgive your sins." The Priest thought for a moment. "Here's what you'll do: buy an indulgence from me. Not only will you receive complete atonement and forgiveness for all your sins, but future sins will also be given priority for atonement."

"Ha?"

"Gold and silver are deposited, and souls dance with joy," the Priest said matter-of-factly. "Jesus and the saints have excess merit, and the Church has the right to release it to other believers to atone for their non-eternal sins."

"Give me ten."

"Alright, this way please, sir," the Priest said in a very obsequious voice.

"Ha, Father Roland, you never disappoint me." Damian smiled, then suddenly sensed something was amiss.

"Roland? You've mistaken me for someone else. I'm Priest Jason."

"No, that's not right." Damian suddenly felt like there was something he hadn't remembered. "Jason — Jason is Robin! Roland is the Priest —no, that's not right—"

Back in the Batcave, Damian was still unable to sort out his chaotic thoughts, so he decided to kill a supervillain to calm himself down.

Just then, a person walked into the Batcave —someone who shouldn't be there.

"Stop right now! What do you think you're doing?" Batman demanded of Damian.

"Batman? Aren't you already—"

"Even if you're not the best detective in the world, you should be able to see that it was you who sentenced those people to death! I'm going to end this, Damian, now!" Batman said furiously, charging towards Damian.

Damian blocked Batman's attack and said coldly, "Your principles have completely failed, Father. Those..."

Scum and cancer must be eradicated! No one can stop me!

"When I heard that criminals were being killed—executed—I knew that only one person was capable of doing this... and this time I'm going to make sure it never happens again!" Batman grabbed Damian's arm, executed a beautiful over-the-shoulder throw, and slammed him to the ground.

"Didn't you read the newspaper? Right there in that old bastard's house— Gotham's crime rate is dropping—I did do something commendable after all—like giving you a good beating!"

"You always have to suffer a bit before you learn your lesson—you must have inherited that from your mother!" Batman's fists grew heavier. "I won't let you kill anymore! I won't approve of you as the next Batman! You're no longer my son!"

"Is that so? I am that kind of Brat. If you tell me not to do something, I'll do it anyway." Damian seemed to understand something, his figure flashing instantly, sending Batman flying several meters away with a single punch. "And I can do this because I have an incredibly strong father to back me up, while you are far inferior—my Nightmare."