3:14 PM – Wayne Manor Grounds
The grass was still scorched from the landing.
Superman touched down first, boots sinking slightly into the earth. The Flash skidded to a halt beside him, kicking up a cloud of dust.
The door opened before they could knock. Bruce stood there. No mask. No cowl. Just a black shirt, sleeves rolled up, golden veins faintly pulsing under his skin. He held a tablet in one hand.
"Bruce," Clark said. His voice was earnest. "We need to talk."
"About the League," Barry added, vibrating slightly. "The President offered funding. UN backing. A headquarters. We want you in. We need you in."
Bruce didn't look up from the tablet. "No."
Clark blinked. "What?"
"I'm not a hero type, Clark," Bruce said. His voice was flat. Final. "This time, Earth was in danger. So I asked for help. I coordinated. I planned. But I don't wear a cape. I don't do press conferences. I don't join teams."
"But you saved us," Barry said. "You led us. You're the reason we won."
"I did what was necessary," Bruce corrected. "There's a difference."
He turned to go back inside.
"Wait," Clark said. He stepped forward. "What about the future? What if something comes back? Something bigger?"
Bruce paused. Looked over his shoulder. His eyes were cold. Calculating.
"Then I'll be ready," he said. "But I won't be in your League. I work better in the dark."
He walked inside. The door clicked shut.
Clark and Flash stood there for a long moment.
"Well," Barry said. "That went… about as expected."
Clark looked at the closed door. "He'll come around."
"No," Barry muttered. "He won't."
((11:58 PM – Baxter Building Perimeter))
The launch pad was a fortress.
Floodlights swept the tarmac. Armed guards patrolled every thirty seconds. Motion sensors. Thermal cameras. Pressure plates embedded in the concrete.
Tomorrow, this ship would launch into space with Reed Richards, Victor Von Doom, and their team aboard.
A cosmic spark hidden in the radiation belts of the orbital station.
Bruce was going to hit by that's as other Reed Richard and doom will get hit by cosmic wave.
His mutated DNA could handle it. His regeneration would knit him back together if it tore him apart. The risk was low. The reward… extraordinary.
He didn't approach from the ground.
He crawled.
Fingertips and toes adhered to the vertical steel of the building's outer wall. Black spider-armor blending into the night. Golden veins dimmed to near-invisibility.
He moved upside down along the ceiling of the third-floor overhang. A guard walked beneath him, flashlight beam cutting the dark. Bruce didn't breathe. Didn't blink.
The guard passed.
Bruce dropped. Silent. A shadow detaching from the roof.
12:17 AM – The Ventilation Shaft
The roof access was locked. Biometric. Keycard only.
Bruce didn't bother with the door.
He found the ventilation intake instead. A steel grate, bolted shut. He pried it open with a micro-tool, the metal bending like wet paper.
Inside, the shaft was narrow. Dusty. Smelled of recycled air and ozone.
Bruce crawled.
His spider-sense flared. Left. Three meters.
He froze.
A laser grid flickered to life in the shaft ahead. Invisible to the naked eye. Deadly.
He waited. Counted the pulse. Three seconds on. Two seconds off.
He moved during the off-cycle. Slid under the beam. Rolled forward.
Another flare. Above.
A camera. Rotating.
Bruce shot a web-line. Not at the camera. At the power conduit beside it. A tiny spark. The camera died. Dark.
He kept crawling.
12:29 AM – The Hangar
He dropped from the ceiling into the hangar bay.
The ship hung above him. Sleek. Silver. Richards' pride.
But Bruce wasn't here for the ship
. He was here for the station it was docking with. Orbital Platform Delta-9. The launch would carry them tomorrow.
Bruce needed to be inside before they boarded.
He moved toward the service elevator. Two guards stood at the door. Smoking. Talking.
Bruce didn't fight them.
He webbed the security camera above them. Then tapped the elevator call button from the far wall with a tiny web-ball.
The dinger sounded. The guards turned.
"Huh? Someone calling?"
They walked toward the elevator.
Bruce slipped past them. Into the stairwell. Up.
12:41 AM – The Digital Lock
The airlock to the orbital platform was sealed.
Triple-reinforced titanium. Biometric scan. Retina. DNA. Voice print. And a digital encryption key that rotated every ten seconds.
Bruce smiled under the mask.
Finally. A challenge.
He pulled a gauntlet computer from his wrist. A holographic keyboard projected into the air.
His fingers flew.
ACCESS GRANTED.
The airlock hissed. Opened.
12:48 AM – Inside the Platform
The station was dark. Sleeping.
Bruce moved through the corridors. Silent. A ghost.
His spider-sense guided him. Guard left. Camera right. Motion sensor ahead.
He webbed the camera lenses. Disabled the motion sensors with a micro-EMP pulse. Avoided the guards by crawling along the ceiling, upside down, breathing shallow.
He reached the central core.
He didn't hesitate, he find the ship mother box and uploaded his ai drive in it.
" Are you there? Aladin! "
[ Yes! Master ..i have taken control of ship camera's and copying data in drive]
At last , bruce plucked the drive and moved towards the warehouse of ship ,where all necessities were placed and picked two chips and moved to basement, with help of his 🕸️ web, made a hammock, and fall sleep.
Tomorrow, the world would cheer for Reed Richards and Victor Von Doom as they launched into space.
And bruce was hiding in spaceship for gaining that power from Cosmo spark.