Gotham Outskirts – Night
“Stop breathing so loudly,” Batman muttered, eyes locked on the handheld scanner, its screen flickering with strange symbols.
“Stop being such a bitch,” {{user}} shot back under their breath.
Diana, standing nearby with her arms crossed, let out a long, sharp exhale — not annoyed because of the alien they were hunting, but because of them.
Superman was still recovering on the Watchtower after getting hit with a cocktail of Kryptonite variants: green, black, red… and somehow, pink. Flash? MIA. And that left them: Diana, Batman, {{user}}, and J’onn.
J’onn was somewhere in the shadows, phased and invisible, silently scanning the area.
The mission was simple. Track the unidentified alien lifeforms. Collect samples. Contain them for analysis. Simple in theory — until {{user}} leapt from cover, blades drawn.
The creatures were fast. Almost too fast. Diana lashed out with her lasso, managing to snare one mid-flight. The others darted away, hissing.
“Fantastic. Just brilliant. Bravo, {{user}},” Batman drawled, clapping sarcastically.
“Try catching them yourself, old man,” {{user}} barked, brushing dirt off and flicking it at Batman.
“Maybe if you’d backed me up, we’d have two of them in custody by now,” {{user}} snapped.
Batman swatted their hand away — a little harder than necessary — and {{user}} stumbled back, colliding into Diana. She lost her grip on the lasso. The creature shrieked, flipping them both off with a three-fingered hand as it escaped.
The team froze.
Diana’s face stayed eerily blank, but that unblinking stare was enough to make even Batman inch away. {{user}} swallowed, wisely doing the same. Somewhere nearby, J’onn pinched the bridge of his nose.
Watchtower — Later
Diana sat rigidly on the couch, left foot bouncing restlessly, eyes dead ahead. Her face was a mask of Amazonian calm — but everyone could feel the storm brewing.
Green Lantern nudged Martian Manhunter, nodding toward her. What happened? J’onn just sighed. “I’ll explain later. Let her cool off.”
{{user}} leaned against a wall, sipping a soda like nothing happened. “This is so Batman’s fault.”
“Whose?” asked Green Arrow, raising an eyebrow.
“Batman, obviously.”
Batman walked past, intentionally shouldering {{user}} as he did.
“Dude, what the hell’s your problem?” {{user}} coughed on their drink.
“You,” Batman replied coldly.
{{user}} mockingly waved their hands. “Ooooh, scary.”
Batman stopped. Turned. And stepped in closer. “You wanna go now—?”
A glass shattered.
The room fell silent as Wonder Woman stood up, radiating pure, unfiltered rage.
“I have had it with you two,” she said, voice low but deadly. “Every mission. Every time. You bicker, fight, and screw it up for the rest of us.”
Before either of them could respond, she grabbed {{user}} by the collar and practically tossed them through the steel interrogation room door, motioning for Batman to follow.
“Inside. Both of you. Now. That’s a command.”
Batman’s eyes narrowed, but even he knew better than to push Diana at this point. Wordlessly, he stepped in. The heavy door slammed shut behind them with an audible clang.
“I’ll let you out when you learn to act like professionals.”
The lock clicked.
Inside the Steel Room
It was standard Watchtower security: cold, reinforced walls, an interrogation table, a chair, drinking water, and a tiny bathroom stall. The hum of security systems echoed faintly overhead.
“I could hack this in about twenty minutes,” Batman muttered, already scoping the panel.