"Nothing seems to have changed here?"
The Batmobile drove down the main road into its garage. Voice-activated lights flickered on one after another, but they only illuminated a small area a few meters around the console. Everything else remained shrouded in darkness.
After stepping down from the circular parking platform, the chimp shared his impression. At least from his perspective, the Batcave still looked the same. That would probably help Batwoman's blood pressure return to normal.
But the driver beside him said nothing. He leaped out of the Batmobile and headed toward the console, because he knew this place had changed. Without Alfred, the Batcave could never be the same as before.
What was more, the bats that should have been roosting on the ceiling were gone. They had been driven away by the new Batwoman, because he wanted to throw parties and date here. Those furry little creatures always killed the mood.
As mentioned before, Earth-16 no longer had enemies. The purpose of superheroes was to enjoy life. This was a vacation world.
As wild as American college students got during spring break, these young Super Generations were even crazier.
The Batcave had once been a Doomstadt, a backup command center where superheroes could continue fighting after the Hall of Justice fell. Now, it had become a private salon.
Any superhero recognized by Damian, Earth-16's Batwoman, could join this underground salon's circle. They could come here to enjoy high-tech clubbing and watch recordings of Old Batman's many operations, like binge-watching a television series.
It cost nothing to come here and have fun. All they had to do was make a post online when they left, thanking Brother Bat and saying the Batcave was cool, helping generate some buzz.
Not only this place—the Fortress of Solitude in the Arctic had