Batman’s Son in Marvel

Bruce Wayne sped through the deserted streets of Gotham City in his Batmobile.

In the early hours of the morning, the streets were eerily empty. Ordinary citizens knew better than to wander Gotham's dark alleys at this time.

The only people still out were either addicts or criminals looking for trouble.

Fortunately, the Batmobile was built to blend into the shadows. So far, no one had spotted it.

Racing through the streets, Bruce soon arrived in Harlem—one of Gotham's most chaotic districts.

Unlike the gleaming skyscrapers of downtown Gotham, Harlem seemed frozen in time. The buildings here were relics of the 1920s, weathered and crumbling.

Poverty clung to the streets like a disease, and most of the residents were African Americans struggling to survive in a city that had left them behind.

It wasn't surprising that Joker chose a place like this as his base of operations.

Without Adam's artificial intelligence, Bruce doubted he would've found him.

Parking the Batmobile in the shadows, Bruce activated his wrist computer and began analyzing the building.

The cameras in and around the structure lit up on his display.

The setup was impressive—Joker's surveillance system left no blind spots.

Infrared scans revealed a massive underground structure teeming with activity.

Judging by the heat signatures, Joker had gathered a small army inside.

Bruce tapped a few more keys, and a drone emerged silently from the Batmobile, circling the building.

Within moments, his screen displayed a full 3D schematic of the building.

Being a superhero wasn't just about brute force—it required brains, too.

Using the hacking tools Fox had provided, Bruce disabled the external cameras and slipped into the building's blind spots.

He moved with practiced precision, disabling guards one by one and avoiding traps Joker had scattered throughout the building.

An hour passed before he reached the entrance to Joker's lab.

Bruce exhaled deeply and prepared himself.

Detaching a small device from his shoulder armor, he forced the door open and burst inside.

"Joker! You can't escape!"

But instead of the hard-fought confrontation he expected, the lab was empty.

Bruce's eyes narrowed in confusion.

The drone scans had shown no other exits—Joker should still be here.

Before Bruce could investigate further, a massive monitor on the far wall flickered to life.

"Whoa! Hahahaha!"

Joker's unmistakable laugh filled the room.

"Batman! You really are something else—tracking me down so quickly. I'm impressed!"

Bruce clenched his fists.

"Cut the act, Joker. You're still in this building. You won't escape this time."

Joker grinned wider.

"Am I? Are you sure about that?"

Bruce turned to leave, determined to flush him out, but Joker's voice rang out again.

"Whoa, whoa, Batman! You're right—I am still here."

"But the real question is—do you dare to come and get me?"

Joker leaned in closer to the camera, his smile widening.

"Oh, and one more thing."

"This base? It's going to explode in five minutes."

Joker cackled maniacally.

"I wonder—can you save all the people in this building in time?"

Bruce's jaw tightened.

He glanced at the monitor one last time before bolting out of the room.

Even though the people here were criminals, he couldn't let them die—not like this.

His job wasn't to judge. It was to deliver them to justice.

Joker's laughter echoed behind him as Bruce disappeared into the building to evacuate the residents.

Meanwhile, Joker sat in a hidden chamber just one wall away, watching Batman's every move.

"Don't disappoint me, Batman," he whispered.

"This city would be so boring without you."

Licking his lips, Joker pressed the self-destruct button and slipped through a hidden passage at the back of the lab.

As he emerged into an alley behind the building, he paused briefly, casting one last glance at his lab.

His eyes gleamed with regret—but only for a moment.

Then he turned to leave.

But before he could take more than two steps, a voice rang out behind him.

"Mr. Joker, nice to meet you."

Joker spun, pulling two pistols from his jacket and firing without hesitation.

Bullets ricocheted off the walls, leaving sparks and scorch marks, but no target.

"Mr. Joker," the voice said again. "That's no way to treat a guest."

Joker's blood-red eyes narrowed.

He holstered his guns and asked hoarsely, "Who are you?"

The voice replied casually, "That's not important. Let's just say I'm… nobody."

Joker's gaze followed the voice until he saw the source—a drone hovering in mid-air.

"Playing tricks, huh?"

Joker raised his gun again, but to his shock, the drone dodged the bullets with unnerving precision.

For the first time, Joker looked genuinely concerned.

Dodging bullets required superhuman reflexes—and drones weren't supposed to have reflexes at all.

Whoever controlled this drone wasn't ordinary.

Joker lowered his weapon but kept his guard up.

"Who are you?"

"I already told you—it doesn't matter who I am."

"I just want to play a game with you."

Joker's lips curled into a grin as excitement sparked in his eyes.

"What kind of game?"

"It's simple."

"I'm going to hunt you—for the rest of the day."

"If you can escape, congratulations—you live."

"But if you can't…"

The drone's voice trailed off ominously.

Joker's eyes gleamed.

"Let's play."

Before the drone could respond, Joker disappeared into the shadows, leaving only an open trapdoor behind him.

The game had begun.

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