Five Years Later, a return to New Gotham.

Looking out the window of the limousine driving down the single road leading into New Gotham, Damien kept his eyes open, memorizing every structure the vehicle passed on its way into the city. So much had changed since the events of the ‘War of the Cycle’ some of the news stations called it all those years ago. After the war between the lycanthropes and Dracula had ended, it was decided by both parties that Gotham city would be the sanctuary that would protect and contain the werewolves and other skin changers that now occupied the city. And although it was still in the middle of the day, that truth still showed.

The city of Gotham had been rebuilding for years after the incident. Only now having caught itself back up to its former glory. But now plant and tree life had returned in force to what was once considered a cemetery of a city. Trees towered several stories high and occupying areas that used to be busy streets, now blocked off by their mighty trunks. Even more surprising was any attempt to cut down these trees resulted in them growing back, some in the span of just one night. Eventually the city contractors simply built around the trees, essentially redesigning the city streets and blocks altogether. The world tree took up the center of what was now called New Gotham; a massive 100 story oak tree with branches that spanned four city blocks in all directions. The unofficial meeting place of the four lycanthrope clans that now lived in Gotham.

Passing the check point into the city, the US government had set up a perimeter around the entire cityscape to contain the area; both to keep anything from leaving without permission or to keep anyone from coming in without knowing. Showing his papers at the guard at the toll booth, Alfred waited for the guard to stamp his papers and wave him out to enter the city proper.

“Are you anxious to return to the city master Damien?” Asked Alfred from the driver’s seat of the car, looking over his shoulder to the bored young man looking out the window and keeping his eyes peeled.

“Anxious to see what’s changed, and what hasn’t.” He answered, going over the newspaper to see a few articles of the renewed crime wave hitting Gotham.

“Well we may need to find new lodging in the city, Wayne Manor last I was informed has become demolished, such a shame really I left many of my things in the butler’s quarters before we left.”

“Things can be replaced Alfred, not people.”

“Speak for yourself Master Damien, I had a bottle of 1928 Scotch Brandy I was given personally by the head of MI6 before my retirement I’ll never see again.”

Giving the old butler a dirty look, Damien went over the papers stacked next to him on the leather seating. “I’ve already purchased a high rise on the outskirts of the south end of the city, it gives a descent view of the city and is easily accessible from the balcony or roof.”

“At the very least I won’t be sweeping bat droppings from the cave anymore…”

Driving down the busy road deeper into the city, Damien looked out to find people crossing streets or going to food vendors. Life returning to normal in what was once a flattened warzone 5 years ago. His father had liquidated his belongings to fund for the city’s reconstruction during that time. It was difficult to find any of the old structure of Gotham still standing after the forests and world tree swallowed it all up. Looking out the window again he watched the citizens of Gotham go about their business, wondering who among them were more than they appeared. He was told that lycanthropy did interesting things to the human body, primarily bringing people to the peak of their physical health. There were a few people he spotted that looked too healthy to be human or too handsome to be normal. Already his innate paranoia seeping in.

After the limousine was parked under the lot of the high-rise hotel, Damien and Alfred were led to their new suite at the top floor with the assistance of three hired help of the hotel. The men bringing in the bags and setting them at the side of the door to the suite while Damien stepped inside and looked around. Giving the help a few hundred dollars for their trouble and waiting for Alfred to stagger inside with the aid of a cane, Damien closed and locked the door behind him and checked the suite for any bugs or listening devices.

“Is that really necessary Master Damien? I doubt there’s anyone left in the city who has a grudge against the Wayne’s family or even cares you are here.”

“I was raised by assassins Alfred, even though I abandoned MUCH of their training, some things remain true; a man who doesn’t check to see if his food is poisoned every day will wake up dead with his morning coffee.”

“With the local brew here in Gotham, I may have to agree…” Shuffling himself over to the couch, Alfred sat heavily with a sigh, draping the cane over his lap and leaning back to rest as Damien puttered behind him, checking his gear and equipment from the bags brought in by the hotel’s staff. Pulling his bags of clothing to his new bedroom and equipment to be splayed out on the coffee table at the couch, Damien began checking for what he still had with him and the costume he brought for tonight.

“I hope everything fits; you don’t have your father’s build.”

“It fits, and its suited to the specifications I’ve built into the equipment.” Going over the built-in body armor and memory cloth cape, Damien repacked the suit and looked out over to the skyline of the city. The view was spectacular. Five years ago, he remembered the sky as dark and grey even during the day, the bay filthy and streets more so. A city coughing on its own filth and dying from despair and crime. Now it looked like someone or something had breathed new life into it. The air smelled cleaner and the streets more active.

Turning on the nearby television, Alfred watched a local news program from New Gotham, the station reporting the arrival of billionaire Damien Wayne returning to Gotham after five years but refused to comment with the news reporter when he was spotted in the limousine entering the lot of the hotel they now stayed in. “It’s a shame you didn’t stay for questions master Damien, Gotham would have liked to have seen Bruce’s son returning to the city.”

“Gotham doesn’t NEED Damien Wayne Alfred; they need someone else.” Looking back at the papers he brought in with him, he focused on a news clipping of a string of murders in the east end of New Gotham, so far there had been five grizzly murders in Gotham with no clues by the police and Commissioner Gordan already had his hands full trying to keep things stable as they were.

“It will be night out in 3 hours, I intend to prepare until then, while I’m out I want you to interview the four lycanthrope clans in the city, see what you can find while I investigate these murders.”

“Quite right Master Damien, send an old man to interview a snake, a cat, and a spider… Me thinks that’s the opening to a fairy tale somewhere.”

*

Night had fallen over Gotham, and with it a change in the city itself. The moon hung low and full of the night’s sky which was cloudless with a cool breeze, the world tree which was always ever present overhead gave an almost starry glow from its wide canopy, almost like its infinite number of leaves were florescent with blue lights. During the night, especially during the full moon, the streets became a whole new world. Giant wolves, cats, spiders and snakes moved about the streets like any other pedestrian going about their business. Even though there were few of each lycanthrope clan, each one was impossible not to spot even from high up on the roof of the Gotham City Police department.

Commissioner Gordan stood at the ledge, sipping from a mug of coffee in his hands and looking down on the streets and back up to the world tree over head. Behind him he had the bat signal shine out into the night sky, its silhouette showing in the tree canopy over head where once the light would have been visible in the heavy storm cover at night. He kept the light on every night to honour the Batman, and occasionally stayed out at night out of nostalgia from the old days. Taking a sip, he was about to turn in when he caught himself looking up at the bat signal, finding a tall figure standing at the controls and turning to face him.

Tall and lean, the man wore jet black with hints of grey in the Kevlar bodysuit he wore, his black cape reaching down to his black boots and draped over his shoulders to obscure his arms. The cowl of a bat over his face and the golden yellow emblem of a bat with its wings outstretched was built into the chest of the costume. Stepping closer, Damien approached Gordon, his face stern and stoic.

“Evening Commissioner, you know why I’m here?”

Smiling into his coffee, Commissioner Gordon moved to shake the young man’s hand, wincing slightly when Damien didn’t return the gesture. “Yes, the string of murders on the East narrows, my officers haven’t determined who the culprits are, and there has been some word on the street that the public thinks its one of the lycanthropes.”

“What do YOU think?”

“Hmm, I’ve seen worse before the city became a petting zoo for werewolves, the public are just looking for an easy target to blame.” Gordon answered, pulling a letter out of his jacket pocket. “Your father wanted me to give you this, it’s a list of locations where he kept his old equipment in sto…”

“I’m already aware of them, I found them on my way here, that won’t be necessary.”

Nodding with a stern look on his face, Gordon continued to offer the letter. “Its also an address for HIM to meet you, he’s been expecting you, heh, said he smelled you on the way into the city.”

Plucking the envelop out of the man’s hand, Damien gave it a quick look before pocketing it and turning to leave. “I’ll go there when I can, for now I think I’ll examine the attacks on the east side, I’ll give you information when I have it.” Jumping off the ledge of the 10-story building, Damien unfurled his cloak to spread out into a glider in the shape of bat wings, gliding over to the next building and disappearing from sight.

Chuckling, Gordon sipped from his drink and looked back at the signal being reflected up in the tree’s canopy.

“Welcome home Batman.”