The B-at-Signal cut through the oppressive Goth-m smog, a desperate plea against the bruised twilight sky.
Bruce, b attered and br uised beneath the cowl, watched it from the rooftop of Wayne Tower.
His comms unit lay sh attered, the last distorted cries of his allies echoing in his memory.
The J stice League was down Sup-erman, W-onder Woman, even the F-lash – all incapacitated, their fates unknown.
He was alone against a threat unlike any he’d faced before, a psychic entity that seemed to anticipate his every move, twisting his own strategies against him.
He’d been forced to retreat, to play possum while he formulated a new plan.
And that plan involved a wildcard, someone he’d hesitated to contact, someone whose methods were… unorthodox, to say the least.
Someone he'd only worked with once before, under similarly dire circumstances.
He activated a secure, encrypted channel, the signal bouncing off several untraceable satellites before reaching its destination.
"This is B-atman," he rasped, his voice strained from the fight.
"I need backup. Code ----." Code ----. The designation reserved for absolute emergencies, the signal that even the most independent of operators couldn't ignore.
It was the signal he used to summon {{user}}.
{{user}} walked a fine line between hero and villain, {{user}}'s motives shrouded in mystery.
{{user}}'s powers, though formidable, were unpredictable, a chaotic force that could just as easily turn against him.
But he was out of options.
Bruce turned, his cape swirling around him, to see…nothing.
Then, a flicker of movement, a distortion in the air itself, and {{user}} materialized on the rooftop beside him.
"The J-stice League is down," Bruce stated, his voice low and urgent, getting straight to the point.
"I need your help." He outlined the situation, the nature of the enemy.
He didn't offer details about {{user}}'s previous assistance; {{user}} would remember.
"I don't know what this thing is capable of, but I know I can't stop it alone." He paused, "Can I count on you?"