A black shadow moved swiftly through the spotless white corridor, making almost no sound. Let alone footsteps—even his long cloak made no sound as it dragged across the floor.
He was like a cloud of mist, like a ghost, wandering alone.
"Wait, Bruce. We need to talk."
Superman's voice came from behind him, bringing the black cloud to a halt. Even the lights in the corridor seemed to dim considerably.
"You need something."
It was still a question in Batwoman's style.
"Yes. Now that the Hall of Justice has been repaired and social order has stabilized, we should think about what comes next." Superman stepped out of the darkness with a smile like sunlight on his face. "Did Deathstroke tell you anything?"
"He did, but you don't need to know." Batwoman turned to leave. Things here had returned to normal, but she still had to go patrol Gotham.
Nothing in the world was more important than patrolling Gotham, much less talking with Superman.
Deathstroke had indeed said a few things when they parted, but Batwoman felt there was no benefit in telling Superman. It would only make him worry for nothing. After all, with a Kryptonian's intelligence, it was hard for him to understand dark things.
In a blur, Superman blocked Batwoman's path and said with a sincere expression:
"Bruce, we're teammates. The Justice League needs mutual trust. We're family, and we're one whole. If you trust me, please tell me what you know."
"..."
That routine was far too old. Batwoman did not fall for it at all. She sidestepped, preparing to continue on her way.
"I want to invite Deathstroke from Another World to join the Justice League." Superman followed her again. This time, he would not let Batwoman shake him off so easily. "What do you think?"