Fifteen minutes later, inside Axel and Selina's bedroom, Axel lay with his head buried against Selina's stomach, looking completely defeated.
Selina rolled her eyes, gently massaging his head while covering his ears.
At the same time, loud banging echoed from the door.
Bang, bang, bang!
"Axel, you had the nerve to dismantle my bomb, but not enough to open the door!
Damn it, I thought someone had tampered with the self-destruct system I worked on all day, and it turns out it was you!
Are you drunk? Then learn to drink properly with me, you idiot.
Otherwise, you wouldn't get so worked up over a little alcohol that you start doubting me, and even Lex, Floyd, and Alfred.
Who do you think could break into our home and cause chaos under all our surveillance?
When you saw the house full of bombs, did it not occur to you to think it through?
Come out if you have the nerve, come out!"
The pounding continued relentlessly.
Mixed into the noise was Rachel's voice, trying to calm things down.
"Enough, Bruce, stop it.
If Axel actually comes out, you'll regret it.
Let's go back. He already stirred up another wave of fear across Gotham. No one is leaving their homes tonight anyway.
There's nothing for you to worry about. Let's go rest, maybe watch part of a movie. Just stop bothering him."
After persistent coaxing, Rachel finally managed to pull Bruce away.
Down the corridor, Alfred watched as Bruce was led off, still furious but gradually calming under Rachel's gentle persuasion. A knowing smile formed on his face.
"Although Axel's methods are unconventional, and rather costly to the house, they are undeniably effective."
As he spoke, Alfred began seriously considering whether he should learn from Axel.
When Bruce had first returned, Alfred had focused only on making up for everything Bruce had lost and supporting every plan he wanted to accomplish, hoping that would bring him happiness.
But now, he wondered if introducing controlled setbacks, while ensuring Bruce's safety, might actually help him rediscover himself.
The thought lingered. It felt worth trying.
Meanwhile, Bruce and Rachel returned to their room and spent a quiet night together, even if Bruce remained somewhat irritated.
After Bruce left, Axel lingered with Selina for a while, engaging in a bit of mischief before finally falling into a deep sleep.
At the same time, across the United States, Axel's sudden actions sent shockwaves through every organization and individual monitoring him.
In Washington, at the headquarters of A.R.G.U.S., Amanda Waller stared at the rapidly shifting data on her screen and let out a long, weary sigh.
"Alas…"
Standing nearby, Michael Jon Carter sighed as well.
"I can't handle an enemy like this. Even Doctor Fate died at his hands. Do not send me after him."
He spoke firmly, making his stance clear.
Amanda remained silent for a moment, then nodded.
"Relax. I won't make any move against him until I find a weakness.
He is a madman, or perhaps something worse, a child holding the button to detonate the world's nuclear arsenal without understanding the consequences.
Because of him, I have attended eleven Pentagon meetings in the past week. The shortest lasted forty minutes.
Their stance has shifted constantly, from eagerness to complete avoidance.
Some even proposed isolating Gotham entirely, cutting it off from the rest of the country to reduce his influence.
At the same time, his refusal to step outside Gotham, especially avoiding Washington, has given many powerful people quiet relief.
His name is practically forbidden in the White House. No one says it anymore.
Based on what we know, he has teleportation that spans vast distances, near-absolute immortality, constant growth in strength, enough power to reach the Earth's core, and global awareness.
Even if I deployed every asset under my command, it would not be enough to stop him. It would only weaken us.
So you have nothing to worry about, Michael.
You are not his opponent."
Amanda closed her eyes briefly and leaned back in her chair.
After a moment, she continued.
"Your current assignment is different. Find our next target, the Witch.
You've been investigating for three days. How close are you?"
Michael smirked.
"Very close.
As long as I don't have to deal with Axel, everything else is manageable. Just make sure the funds are ready.
The Witch does have teleportation abilities comparable to his, but there is a condition.
Dr. June Moone must say the word 'Enchantress' for her to emerge. In front of me, she will not even get the chance to speak it.
She is dangerous, but stopping someone from saying a word is simple.
Just wait for the results, and locate her heart. That's all we need."
With that, he waved casually and walked out.
He was a proud man. Only in front of Axel did that confidence falter. Against anyone else, it returned easily.
Amanda watched him leave, then fell into deep thought.
How could she deal with the force that now dominated Gotham?
Even the city itself had become a forbidden zone in the eyes of the nation's leadership.
Was the United States truly going to be suppressed like this?
She sighed again.
At that same moment, in Gotham's Arkham Asylum, everything was descending into chaos.
Dr. Harleen Quinzel had only arrived in Gotham a day earlier. After finally calming her excitement about becoming a licensed psychologist, she had planned to get some rest.
Instead, a series of explosions shattered the night.
She barely had time to wake before a mangled body crashed through her bedroom wall, smashing through into the next room and leaving a trail of blood across the space.
Harley stared at the splattered wall, bits of flesh clinging to it, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing.
Then the alarms began.
Sirens blared as security personnel flooded the area, rushing to contain patients who were trying to escape amid the chaos.
Still dazed, Harley stepped out into the hallway, watching doctors sprint past her.
She caught fragments of their panicked conversation.
"Something's gone wrong. Wraith killed the director!"
"This place is cursed. First Dr. Jonathan Crane, now Dr. Hugo Strange. Who's next?"
"Stop talking and run. With them dead, no one is taking responsibility here."
"That's right. Move, or the guards will make you stay and take charge!"
Harley's eyes widened.
"Run!"
She did not fully understand what was happening, but everyone else was running, and that was enough.
She had barely taken two steps when a security guard grabbed her.
"Doctor, we need you. Several patients are unstable. They require immediate counseling."
"I'm not a doctor, I'm just an assistant!"
She tried to pull away, but compared to Gotham's seasoned professionals, she stood no chance.
Within moments, she was escorted, almost carried, to the director's office, which was still stained with blood.
"Dr. Quinzel, I've reviewed your file. You are no longer an assistant.
And since no other doctors remain, you are now the acting head of Arkham Asylum."
They sat her down in the director's chair and handed her reports detailing the situation.
She was terrified, yet beneath the fear, something else stirred.
Excitement.
She cleared her throat, gripping the papers tightly.
"I don't know why I'm in charge, but… fine.
First, secure all escaping patients. Then line up those requiring psychological evaluation.
I will… handle the counseling."
A nervous laugh slipped out.
"Strange… why am I laughing?"
The lead guard stepped forward, removing an elegant top hat with a theatrical flourish.
"Yes, Doctor… my Little Alice."
^_________^
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