"So nothing happened?" I frowned as I drummed my fingers.
"Nothing of note," Bruce replied. "I simply had an uneventful dinner."
"I see…" I stared at the phone on my desk.
Was the feat wrong? I doubted it. My strange power seemed weirdly omniscient, and feats triggered by events outside my awareness had occurred before. Perhaps something had happened unintentionally without Bruce realizing it.
Of course, there was another possibility I didn't want to consider.
Bruce could be lying to me.
I felt guilty for even thinking it, but I knew my luck. I had literally been riding a robotic snake across an alien planet not long ago.
It wouldn't be out of place for something insane to have happened that he simply didn't want to share.
"Alright," I said. "Sorry for the strange call, then."
It was probably better not to pry. I wasn't stupid enough to think we were best friends or anything.
Which was all the more reason to strengthen our friendship!
"No worries." Bruce chuckled. "I appreciate you checking in. It's a shame I can't keep talking. I'd love to chat more, but work never ends."
"Of course, of course." I waved a hand even though he couldn't see me. "I know how it is. I'll make sure to properly invite you out sometime!"
"You don't have to—"
"No, no, I insist, Mr. Wayne!" I laughed. "Please don't be modest. I'll show you a night that'll knock your socks off compared to the one Batman ruined. Trust me!"
"…I'm looking forward to it."
I sighed as the line went dead.
Man, I hoped he didn't think I was a weirdo. Maybe I should get him a present. I idly wondered how he would react if I stole a Batsuit for him.
All billionaires collected weird stuff, right?
Hmm. Maybe…
[Rolling Gold Gacha Ticket]
[Retroactive Builder's Contract]
|Rare Item|
A folded contract that promises complete satisfaction. Write down the specifications of what you want built and where you want it constructed, then provide enough money to cover the expected cost of materials and labor. Once signed, the contract will burn to ashes. The requested structure will have been retroactively and expertly built at some unspecified point in the past, while the required funds will be removed from your possession.
Restock Timer: 720 Hours.
Oh?
A blank sheet of paper fell into my palm, save for a signature line printed across the bottom.
I rubbed my hands together as an even better idea came to mind, then quickly reached for my phone.
"What?" Cobblepot's grumbling voice answered. "This better be important."
"I'm gonna need some money."
"...How much?" A note of worry entered his voice.
"All of it."
—
Samantha frowned as she stared down at the report.
More than a hundred Talons had been destroyed, crippled, or stolen from the Court. Masterpieces crafted from corpses gathered over generations had vanished in the span of a single month. Without question, it was the most catastrophic loss the Court of Owls had ever suffered.
And what had sacrificing all those assassins gained her?
The bottom-feeding freak and his pathetic little union were still alive. Nearly half the Talons sent after him were dead or missing, and had accomplished absolutely nothing.
As if that humiliation were not enough, every other mission she had assigned her Talons had also failed.
Talons were supposed to be the Court's ultimate weapons, immortal assassins who felt neither pain nor fear. A single Talon should have been enough to strike terror into the hearts of men.
Yet, as though some divine force were conspiring against her, every assassination and kidnapping attempt had failed.
The one sent to abduct Bruce Wayne had apparently slipped and broken both its legs, for God's sake.
Samantha felt a migraine coming on just from remembering it.
As heiress to the Vanavers, it was her right to serve as Grandmaster of the Court of Owls, a position her family had held for generations. Yet whispers of removing her had already begun spreading throughout the Court.
The greedy fools had forgotten everything she had done for them. As though any of them could have handled the freaks and madmen overrunning Gotham half as well as she had.
She had taken advantage of Gotham's descent into chaos and used it to strengthen the Court. Property acquisitions and insurance claims over the years of the city's growing madness had filled their coffers more than ever before.
None of that mattered to them now.
All they could see were the failures directly in front of them.
Samantha seethed at the sheer stupidity of it all.
She would have taken the time to quell the growing discontent if she could, but Derek Powers's statement had confirmed that Jean Valjean was aware of the Court of Owls. Tolerating that lowlife's continued interference was no longer acceptable.
He might be a freak, but she would not underestimate whatever strange metahuman power he wielded.
If the Talons were not enough, then she would have to seek out other tools.
Samantha rose from her desk and donned the white mask of the Grandmaster. Two Talons fell into step behind her as she descended into the deeper reaches of the Court's headquarters.
Burn marks still scarred the once-pristine halls, another stain left behind by that bottom feeder.
All the more reason she needed to rip it out and burn it down to the roots.
She eventually reached the Court's deepest laboratories. Rows of stone tombs lined the chamber, each containing a corpse awaiting preparation for its future service as a Talon.
Talia al Ghul stood near the center of the room with two League assassins behind her. A dark bandage covered one of her eyes, though it did little to diminish the amused contempt in her expression.
"You certainly took long enough," Talia remarked.
"The Court moves with care, not haste," Samantha replied politely.
She kept her disdain hidden behind the Grandmaster's mask. The League of Shadows was little more than a collection of fanatics clinging to the whims of an immortal madman. Useful fanatics, perhaps, but beneath the Court all the same.
Talia's gaze shifted toward the sealed platform at the center of the laboratory.
"I trust our gift will be put to good use," she said. "My Shadows expended considerable effort recovering these corpses."
"It will be," Samantha answered without hesitation. "Once the Court completes its work, our enemies will be of no concern."
A deep mechanical rumble rolled through the chamber.
Both women turned as a section of the floor split apart. Steam hissed from the widening gap as several reinforced caskets slowly rose from below, their doors opening one after another.
"Rise," Samantha commanded.
One by one, the dead stirred.
Samantha felt a surge of glee at the success. Until now, the Talons had been limited to skilled but ultimately mundane men and women. Every attempt to revive a metahuman had failed. The Electrum that served as the foundation of the process simply couldn't restore whatever esoteric force fueled their powers.
A small amount of Lazarus water mixed into the process, however, had changed everything.
She pointed toward one of the newly awakened Talons.
"Demonstrate your powers."
The corpse raised a hand and hurled a ball of flame across the chamber. It struck the far wall with a thunderous crack, leaving behind a circle of scorched stone.
"A success, then," Talia remarked. "My compliments to your scientists. To think Lazarus water and the Court's methods would prove so compatible."
"The Court appreciates the League's assistance." Samantha gave a slight nod. "Our continued cooperation will be essential moving forward."
It galled her to admit it, but the Court of Owls lacked both a reliable source of Lazarus water and the connections required to acquire metahuman corpses without attracting attention. The League of Shadows, meanwhile, had no hope of reproducing the Court's method of creating Talons.
Generations of the Court had purchased, buried, or destroyed nearly every piece of public research concerning Electrum.
Its secrets belonged to them alone.
"I'm pleased you recognize that." Talia's lips curved into a faint smile. "I could send one of our own experts to assist your scientists. A legion of the dead, shared between us."
"Perhaps," Samantha replied mildly. "I will need to bring the offer before the Court."
She would be a fool to ever accept. The League of Shadows would steal the process the moment an opportunity showed itself.
Fortunately, their goals aligned for now, so direct sabotage would serve neither side's interests. Still, Samantha had no intention of remaining beholden to a band of mere assassins.
Nothing had been confirmed, but rumors of a Lazarus pit beneath Gotham were promising. Securing more metahuman corpses would also become far easier once the remaining obstacles were removed.
The bottom-feeder's and the Bat's time in Gotham was running short.
"It is a shame that one is not yet complete," Talia said.
Samantha glanced toward the enormous coffin at the far end of the laboratory. Thick green tubes ran into its reinforced frame, pulsing faintly as they fed the corpse within.
"My scientists are still struggling with that specimen," Samantha admitted. "Though they remain optimistic that the Venom compound will produce something truly extraordinary." "
"I look forward to seeing the results."
As promised, several of the newly awakened Talons stepped away from the others and moved to stand behind Talia. Samantha watched them go with quiet annoyance, but payment was necessary if she wished to maintain the League's cooperation.
Talia gave her a final nod before turning toward the exit, her assassins and new Talons following close behind.
Samantha remained in the laboratory for a moment longer before making her way back toward the surface. With practiced ease, she shed the Grandmaster's attire and became nothing more than a wealthy young socialite once again.
She stepped into her family's waiting limousine.
There had been setbacks, but matters were finally beginning to improve. Once the next generation of Talons was ready, she would order Falcone to act and unleash their combined forces upon Jean Valjean's pathetic little union.
Perhaps Bruce Wayne's failed abduction presented an opportunity as well.
Samantha leaned against the window of her limousine as it carried her away from the Court's headquarters. If taking Wayne by force had failed, then perhaps she could approach him more traditionally.
Bruce Wayne was quite fetching, after all.
Her mood lifted as a faint birdsong drifted through the air. A pristine white feather floated through the open window and settled gently in her lap.
Samantha smiled.
It seemed as good an omen as any.
***
Sorry for the late again. I'm sounding like a broken record lmao. Some family needed an overnight stay at the hospital so I needed to stick around. Thankfully nothing serious but god I hate driving.
Comments and Thoughts would be greatly appreciated. Likes are like a drug to me and boost my creative juices.
I have advanced chapters on Pa tre on/daisyberry if you wanna read ahead.