"You're one of the few people who might be able to manage this place."
As he finished speaking, Axel gave Harley's shoulder a firm, meaningful squeeze before walking off after Bruce.
Harley stood there for a moment, stunned, then quickly hurried after him. By the time she caught up, Axel had already made his point.
"Alright, Bruce, Harley has proven herself. Let her remain director for now."
"What?"
Bruce, who had just finished checking two patient rooms, turned to Axel with clear disbelief.
"Are you serious?"
His eyes shifted to Harley, narrowing slightly.
"Even if she proved herself somehow, this feels rushed."
"Come on, Bruce, stop overthinking it. Let's go. This is Director Harley's territory now."
Axel laughed as he pulled Bruce away, leaving behind exhausted staff and a completely bewildered Harley Quinn.
It was not until they reached the car that Bruce grabbed Axel's sleeve.
"Axel, are you sure about this?"
Bruce's tone lowered, more serious now.
"If I'm not mistaken, Arkham feels wrong. Too normal. Like any other hospital. But this is Gotham."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"I'm almost certain something is off. That director might not be in control at all. She could even be the one being controlled."
"Relax."
Axel chuckled and pushed Bruce lightly into the driver's seat, patting his shoulder.
"Trust me. I've seen versions of this world before. Harley Quinn is a major figure. She can handle a place like this."
Bruce considered that, then gave a slow nod.
"You're saying she's something like Diana?"
"Close enough."
Axel smiled.
"What I did last night stirred things up. Gotham is probably on edge right now. You should handle a few press conferences, calm people down, keep things from spiraling."
Bruce frowned slightly.
"The White House has already started suppressing news about you."
"I know. That makes Gotham look like a no-go zone to them."
Axel shrugged.
"It has its advantages. You'll manage."
Bruce studied him for a moment.
"And you?"
"I'll be moving around. Other worlds."
Bruce exhaled.
"You'll come back?"
"Every night."
Axel stepped away from the car.
"If anything happens, just tell me then."
With that, he walked off, leaving Arkham behind. His figure faded before Bruce's eyes, dissolving into nothing.
A moment later, light flared.
Axel stepped out of it and looked around.
A new world.
Before he could get his bearings, a woman's voice reached him.
"That means we don't have to sneak around your house anymore, we don't have to stay quiet, and we don't have to look at that stupid Billy Joel poster… wait, who is he?"
She stared at Axel in shock.
Axel glanced at her briefly, then at the man holding her hands. A faint smile formed.
"Sorry to interrupt. Shouldn't you two be kissing right about now?"
He even made a quick gesture, as if encouraging them.
The man blinked, confused.
"Hey, how did you even get here…"
Thump!
A violent gust of wind exploded from the side.
The man's face twisted from the force as something slammed past him. Blood sprayed across his face with enough impact to nearly knock him over.
A body crashed nearby.
A blue-suited figure tumbled across the street, smashed into a lamppost, then hit a wall before collapsing to the ground.
Axel stood still, staring at the right side of his body.
His clothes were shredded. Flesh torn. Blood visible.
Only the reinforced nano-shorts remained intact, stretched into longer, durable fabric that spared him complete exposure.
The couple screamed, clinging to each other before running away.
Axel calmly removed what remained of his coat and tied it around his waist.
"You two were acting like crabs in the street. And for the record, I didn't move. I'm the one who got hit."
He waved them off dismissively before turning his attention to the wreck across the road.
Crossing over, he approached the broken figure.
People were already gathering, phones out, recording everything.
Axel looked down, then clapped once.
"Well, that explains it."
Recognition clicked.
"A-Train. One of The Seven."
He glanced back in the direction the couple had fled.
"Should've realized sooner."
Kneeling, Axel checked A-Train's condition.
Under normal circumstances, even a high-speed collision would not have left him like this. But Axel had not moved. Worse, his body had instinctively resisted the impact.
There had been no give at all.
A-Train had essentially run into something immovable.
The result was obvious.
Axel picked up A-Train's dislocated leg slightly, examining the damage with mild curiosity before letting it drop.
Then he turned to the crowd, who were still filming.
"Looks like a serious accident. He ran straight into me. Misjudged his speed."
He gave a small, easy smile.
"My name is Wraith."
He gestured casually toward A-Train.
"Though right now, he looks more like a ghost than I do."
A few nervous laughs rippled through the crowd.
Axel crouched, grabbed A-Train, and lifted him effortlessly.
"That's enough filming. He needs treatment."
Without waiting for a response, Axel bent slightly.
Then he vanished.
A shockwave tore through the street as he accelerated, carrying A-Train straight toward Vought International two kilometers away.
___
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