Under the night sky on Gotham's outskirts, lightning flashed and thunder roared as heavy rain poured down, just as it always did.
The speedometer on the car's dashboard was pushed to its limit—this kind of weather was something Bruce, as Batman, had long since grown used to.
He slammed the accelerator, the needle maxing out as he sped toward Wayne Tower in the city center, determined to get there as quickly as possible.
"Why are you in such a hurry—off to meet another girl again?"
Selina's voice came from beside him. She leaned across the driver's seat to fasten his seatbelt, her fingers brushing lightly across his chest as she did so.
"If you keep driving like this and the cops catch you, you'll be on the front page again tomorrow."
"Selina?!"
Under normal circumstances, hearing her voice would've only surprised Batman—but now, every hair on his body stood on end.
"When did you get in the car?!"
Selina removed the pearl earrings from her ears and leaned closer.
"When you asked that valet for the keys."
Impossible—Bruce was certain he hadn't noticed her getting in.
If this were the Selina Kyle he knew—the agile, elusive cat burglar—then maybe she could've slipped past his senses.
But in this world, Selina was just an orphan adopted by Thomas Wayne. There was no way she could've bypassed Batman's near-instinctive awareness.
Something's wrong.
Screech!!!
Bruce slammed the brakes and spun the wheel, the car drifting sharply as it turned around on the rain-soaked road.
"Whoa—!"
Caught off guard, Selina was thrown forward by the inertia, landing against Bruce. The sudden weight pressing against him made him tense up instantly.
Half leaning against both the console and Bruce, Selina didn't rush to move. Instead, she looked up and asked:
"Now? You're sure?"
"Not now!"
As both the driver and someone experienced behind the wheel, Bruce knew exactly what she meant—but this was clearly not the time.
"Buckle up, Selina! I'm speeding up!"
The car accelerated even faster than before.
Because Bruce had realized something—he shouldn't have left the manor.
Moments ago, information about Selina had suddenly appeared in his mind.
But since arriving in this reality, no one had told him anything about this version of her.
Just like Joey, he was beginning to gain memories that weren't his.
The farther he drove, the more memories flooded in.
A surge of 'his own' memories made Batman grit his teeth, cursing under his breath at this world's Bruce Wayne.
Batman might wear the identity of Bruce Wayne as a mask—but even then, he still had principles.
This version, however, was something else entirely.
A complete degenerate. Selfish. Cruel. A parasite. Every terrible trait of a spoiled rich heir was present in him.
If someone like this stood in front of Batman, he'd probably punch him first.
Batman had to admit—Joey was probably right.
That fragment had been protecting his memory. And now, it was likely still back at the manor.
By moving away from it, his mind was being overwritten by this world.
He had no choice but to turn back.
"I mean it, Selina—put your seatbelt on. I don't have time for this!"
Back at the manor, under the astonished gazes of the guests, Bruce jumped out of the car and skillfully tossed the keys to a valet.
Selina fumbled with her seatbelt and hurried after him.
"Wait, Bruce—what's gotten into you today?!"
Lifting her dress slightly to keep up, she struggled to match his pace.
"I feel like you're a completely different person!"
"Don't worry, Selina. Just don't ask too many questions. Trust me—everything will go back to normal."
Batman realized he was right.
Once back inside the manor, the changes in his memory stopped.
The truth wasn't that he had changed—
It was that everyone else had.
Ignoring the guests raising glasses and greeting him, Batman scanned every corner of the grand hall, his brow furrowed.
Where could the fragment be?
"What do you mean by 'back to normal'?"
Selina panted as she followed closely behind, barely managing to keep up.
"I don't feel like anything's wrong with me—you're the one acting strange."
Still scanning doorways and corners along the corridor, Batman answered absentmindedly:
"Back to normal means—"
He suddenly fell silent.
"Why did you stop talking?"
Selina finally caught up, slightly out of breath.
She gathered the hem of her dress, revealing her long, pale legs and slender ankles. Her high heels struck the carpeted hallway with dull thuds.
Running like this in heels irritated her. With a quick motion, she kicked them off toward the wall.
"That's better. If you keep ignoring me and walking off like that, I'll just catch you right away—don't forget…"
She smiled faintly.
"I'm pretty fast."
Yes—very fast.
That was part of the new memories in Batman's mind.
In this reality, Bruce and Selina had grown up together.
And in every playful chase between them—
Bruce had never once managed to outrun her.
Seeing Selina's bare legs and feet, Batman fell into thought.
Selina, noticing his gaze, brought her legs together and crossed them, rising onto her toes in a ballet-like pose.
"Well? Do you like it? Don't tell me you're thinking of trying some new again?"
"No, of course not!"
Bruce had never felt this speechless in his entire life.
"In your eyes, am I really just someone who thinks about that kind of thing all the time?"
…Well, in Selina's eyes, apparently he was.
Just as his memories suggested, the Bruce Wayne of this reality really was a hedonistic playboy spoiled by his parents and immense wealth.
But Batman was not that person.
As he looked at Selina's legs, he was thinking about something else entirely.
Back to normal… meant she would return to normal too.
From a healthy young woman who could run, jump, and even dance ballet—to someone paralyzed, confined to a wheelchair.
"Miss Selina, Master Bruce…"
Alfred, busy directing the staff, finally found a moment to step in and look after the two overgrown children of the Wayne household.
Seeing the pair of high heels carelessly kicked against the wall, his blood pressure visibly spiked. After a pause, he spoke as calmly as he could:
"Miss Selina, those shoes—worth 1.6 million dollars—were a birthday gift from Mrs. Wayne. Please don't treat them so roughly."
"Alright, alright, I get it. I won't do it again, Grandpa."
Selina bent down to pick them up, her tone making it clear—
She would absolutely do it again.
Even Alfred's patience had its limits. He adjusted his black bow tie, trying to steady himself.
"…Very well, Miss Selina."
As the two bickered, Batman quietly stepped back into the shadows of the corridor, as if only darkness could offer him any comfort.
Once, long ago, interactions like this between Alfred and Selina might have made him smile faintly—one of the few rays of light in his otherwise grim life.
Now, he could only watch coldly.
The closer he got, the deeper he felt himself sinking into darkness.
Just an hour ago, he had been trying to stop Thomas from killing Martha.
He had fought desperately to save Dick Grayson's family—his partner, his son.
Even if they were from another universe, they still mattered to him.
In his world, Alfred had been murdered by the Joker.
Selina had been crippled by him.
Yet in this twisted, artificial reality, Alfred was alive. Selina was healthy and happy.
Even Superman—who once carried the same weight of pain Batman did—was now thriving, a decorated journalist.
And he and Diana… they seemed perfect together.
Maybe he should—
The thought surfaced, dangerous and tempting.
But only for a moment.
Batman knew that even these few short minutes of ease were beginning to affect him.
Especially with the flood of foreign memories—those belonging to a carefree, spoiled Bruce Wayne.
He needed time.
Time to steady himself.
To let the cold, relentless Batman take over again.
"Ahhh—!"
A faint scream echoed through the corridor, accompanied by the sound of shattering glass.
Bang!
This time it was unmistakable—a gunshot, coming from the main hall.
"Stay here!"
Throwing the words over his shoulder, Bruce loosened his tie, unbuttoned his suit, and sprinted toward the source of the sound.
When he reached the hall, his breath caught.
A pale figure in a bright purple tailcoat stood there, firing a handgun wildly.
At his feet spread a growing pool of blood.
Its source—Commissioner Jim Gordon.
Nearby, District Attorney Harvey Dent charged forward bravely, trying to subdue the gunman.
"Bravo! Such justice, such courage!"
The Joker cackled, slipping aside effortlessly to evade Harvey's first attack, as if playing a game.
Then he plucked an orange flower from his lapel and held it out.
"A reward for you—a little flower!"
"Harvey, no!"
Batman shouted, but it was too late.
"Ahhh!"
A burst of corrosive gas sprayed from the flower. Harvey turned his head, but not fast enough—the acid struck his face.
"My face!"
Batman grabbed a shard of a ceramic plate and hurled it like a batarang.
He had already seen the damage—half of Harvey Dent's face was ruined.
Gotham's righteous prosecutor had once again become Two-Face.
The Joker ducked the projectile with ease, then straightened, revealing a face Batman knew all too well—
Jack White.
"Well, well… it's been too long, Bats."
The Joker spread his unnaturally wide grin, like a child showing off a job well done.
"Miss me?"