Time rewound slightly. While Deathstroke and Oliver were testing the quiver in the garden, Batwoman, who had not gone to the meeting, was asking about something inside Justice League Dark's headquarters beneath the Hall of Justice.
Justice League Dark was short on manpower these days. Only Man-Bat remained underground to watch the place; everyone else was away. Still, that was to be expected.
Zatanna and Constantine had likely gone on vacation and had yet to return. Batwoman could not be bothered to seek out the House of Mystery either; that would be troublesome.
Madame Xanadu had virtually no combat ability. The new Doctor Fate had no helmet. Deadman might truly have died. The other unofficial members had never come around often to begin with.
So she had come here to look up information. She wanted a spellcaster as a companion, and this person was particularly special.
Jars of glowing insects lined the walls, while a massive Dragon Bone hung from the ceiling as a chandelier. Batwoman sat on the sofa, staring coldly at Man-Bat before stating her request.
"I'm looking for the Daughter of the Warlock. Tell me where she is."
Man-Bat had once run with the Gotham crowd too. He really was a Bat-person, yet when facing Batwoman, he felt none of the warmth one might expect from meeting one of his own kind or a fellow local. All he felt was boundless fear.
Though he had turned over a new leaf, the memories of being brutally beaten by Batwoman over the years were still at work. His whole body began to ache, even though Batwoman had helped him find redemption and join Justice League Dark.
One thing was one thing. Just because someone meant well, did getting beaten stop hurting?
"Uh, Batwoman, the Daughter of the Warlock is