Lex didn't react immediately.
He didn't spill the tea. Didn't drop the sunflower seeds. Didn't even blink.
He just looked at Scarecrow.
"Explain," he said calmly.
Scarecrow was still breathing hard, pupils dilated—not from toxin exposure, but from adrenaline.
"They fought inside the manor grounds. Batman didn't hold back. Neither did the Joker." He swallowed. "It wasn't a trick. It wasn't theater. It was a real fight."
Bane stood a few steps away, arms folded, silent as a statue.
Lex leaned back in the folding chair he'd dragged onto the tarmac.
"And?"
"Batman broke him," Scarecrow said. "No theatrics. No jokes. No punchline. Just… ended it."
Lex finally looked up at the sky.
Dark clouds drifting over Gotham. Fitting.
"Did you see a body?" Lex asked.
"Yes."
"Did you check for a pulse?"
Scarecrow hesitated.
"…No."
Lex smiled faintly.
"Then don't declare deaths so confidently."
Bane spoke for the first time. "You think he's alive."
"I think," Lex replied, "that declaring the Joker dead without triple verification is amateur behavior."
He stood.
"Take me there."
—
Wayne Manor was quieter than usual.
Too quiet.
Emergency perimeter lights were still on. Several of Gordon's men stood guard, uneasy but disciplined.
When Lex approached, no one stopped him.
Inside, the tension was thick.
Bruce Wayne stood near the shattered remains of the courtyard fountain. His suit was damaged, cape torn, knuckles bruised.
Barbara stood nearby, pale but steady.
Gordon looked exhausted.
And on the stone ground—
A body.
White skin.
Green hair.
Twisted grin, frozen mid-expression.
Lex walked forward slowly.
No one spoke.
He crouched.
Checked carotid artery.
Nothing.
Checked chest movement.
Stillness.
He glanced at Bruce.
"Cause of death?"
"Cervical fracture," Bruce said evenly. "Immediate."
Lex nodded.
Efficient.
Clean.
No spectacle.
No chaos.
No explosion-laced finale.
Just… finality.
Barbara watched Lex closely. "He went back to fight him," she said quietly. "He knew."
"Of course he knew," Lex replied.
The Joker had never been stupid.
He'd gone back because unfinished stories rot the soul.
Bruce's voice was controlled, but something lived underneath it.
"He chose this."
"Yes," Lex agreed. "He did."
There was no accusation in his tone. No moral judgment.
Just observation.
Gordon shifted uneasily. "So that's it? It's over?"
Lex stood.
"Nothing involving him is ever 'over.' But for now? Yes."
Bruce looked at Lex. "You told him he could try."
"I did."
A beat of silence passed between them.
Bruce didn't regret it.
Lex didn't apologize.
That was enough.
Barbara broke the tension. "So you're still leaving?"
Lex glanced at her.
"Yes."
"Even after this?"
"Especially after this."
Bruce stepped closer.
"Superman."
Lex nodded.
"I'll call when it's time."
Bruce extended a hand.
Lex looked at it for a second, then shook it firmly.
"Don't die," Bruce said.
Lex smirked. "That's your thing."
—
Back at Gotham Airport, Bane was waiting near the plane he'd secured.
Scarecrow stood beside him, far more subdued now.
Lex approached without ceremony.
"Well?" Bane asked.
"He's dead," Lex said simply.
Bane's expression didn't change much.
But there was a shift.
A subtle exhale.
Something unresolved had just closed without him.
"And you?" Lex asked.
Bane stared at the runway stretching into darkness.
"I lived half my life in a hole," he said quietly. "The other half chasing a bat."
He turned his head slightly.
"You said there was sunlight."
"There is."
"Then let's go."
No theatrics.
No dramatic vows.
Just decision.
Lex nodded.
Scarecrow stepped forward quickly. "Boss, I'm ready."
Lex gave him a flat look.
"Don't call me that in public."
"Yes— I mean— understood."
Lex walked toward the plane.
Before boarding, he paused and looked back at Gotham's skyline.
Broken towers.
Dark streets.
Flickers of resistance.
Bruce would rebuild.
Barbara would train.
Gordon would endure.
And somewhere above the clouds—
A zombified god floated in orbit.
Superman.
Lex's next problem.
He smiled faintly.
"Red Queen," he murmured under his breath, "keep watching."
If Umbrella wanted a war, they were getting one.
Ada Wong and Alice's forces were already dismantling Umbrella's operations piece by piece. The Arcadia incident had cost them a Wesker clone.
This wasn't coincidence anymore.
It was escalation.
Lex boarded the plane.
Bane followed.
Scarecrow nearly tripped in his rush.
Engines roared to life.
As the aircraft accelerated down the runway, Gotham shrank behind them.
Barbara stood on a distant rooftop, watching the departure through binoculars.
Bruce stood beside her.
"He'll be back," she said.
"Yes," Bruce replied.
But neither of them said when.
The plane lifted into the night sky.
Inside, Lex fastened his harness and leaned back.
He had acquired:
Bane's strength and discipline.
Killer Croc's regeneration.
An upgraded antitoxin arsenal.
And one deeply terrified Scarecrow.
He closed his eyes briefly.
Next phase: preparation.
Superman wouldn't fall easily.
Zombie or not, he was still the most dangerous being on Earth.
And Lex intended to kill him.
Then bring him back.
Stronger.
The city lights faded beneath the clouds.
Ahead—uncertainty.
Behind—closure.
Lex Williams didn't look back again.
....
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