On a rooftop in Gotham's East End, Batman held out his palm. He realized the heavy snow had suddenly stopped at some unknown point, ending so abruptly as though someone had slammed on the brakes.
"Alfred, the snow has stopped."
The pointed ears emitted invisible electrical signals, which were converted into sound and transmitted back home.
The old man in the Batcave sat in a high-backed chair before dozens of screens of varying sizes, wearing a headset with surprisingly fashionable flair.
While Barbara was searching through various records, Butler was also verifying the information and sending Brother Eye's data to his young master for confirmation.
Because Batman found it difficult to trust anyone, even if that person was Batwoman.
"Yes, sir. The exterior monitors at home have already observed it. It came earlier than expected. Deathstroke works efficiently."
"And I'm watching another Deathstroke now. The sniffers on the Dark Web should have intelligence about this mission of his."
Batman crouched at the edge of the rooftop. Just as he had said, he watched Deathstroke lead several friends into an inconspicuous bar, leaving footprints of various sizes in the snow.
This was the original Deathstroke from Earth-0, the older one. The easiest way to tell him apart was his mask. Being rather nostalgic, old Slade preferred a soft, close-fitting cloth mask over the one worn by his younger counterpart.
Its defensive capabilities might have been much weaker, but with his martial skill and Healing Factor, that shortcoming was not particularly serious.
"I thought he had kept a low profile for so long because he had retired," Alfred said as he tapped at the keyboard, his typing speed no slower than any young person's. "Not long ago, we had intelligence confirming that he went to the Dark Multiverse and did something beneficial