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"If there's someone you wish to see, then you are no longer alone."
- Natsume Takashi, (Natsume's Book Of Friends)
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<(Omniscient POV)>
"Yes, finally. I made it out. I survived that nightmare and slipped away from that monster. Heck, I even fooled those clueless cops and those strange ninjas hanging around outside the asylum. That Doctor Strange might have turned me into a freak with his experiments, but at least he gave me some tricks worth keeping," the humanoid figure rasped, his voice carrying a cold amusement as he glanced back one last time at the locked-down asylum. "Idiots. They actually thought they could hold Copperhead," he scoffed, venom dripping from his tone.
Physically, Copperhead looked far more serpent than man. From the hooked claws and the glint of copper scales covering his body to the elongated, reptilian skull, green slit-pupiled eyes, and tall, sinewy frame, almost nothing about him appeared human anymore. There was even a thick, muscular snake tail curled from his lower back, swaying with predatory grace. Black stripes and intricate patterns were traced across his scales, giving him a fearsome, reptilian presence. And, of course, his complete lack of conscience and the pair of venomous fangs hidden in his mouth were just the final, deadly flourishes.
[{(Image from Discord)}]
"Time to vanish from Gotham for a few days, well, at least until someone finally puts the Bat in the ground. But again, with the prison break, the cops'll be swarming the city. High alert, lockdowns, checkpoints... yeah, I'll need to stay low before I even think about slipping out." He thoughtfully muttered under his breath while sprinting through a narrow, shadow-choked alley, away from Arkham. His movement was feral—less like a man and more like a beast.
Then, without warning, Copperhead came to a halt, lifting his head slightly, nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air, his face twisting in curiosity. "A woman? Alone out here at this hour?" he whispered to no one, his eyes narrowing toward the darkness ahead. Like most snakes, his body could sense heat, and his enhanced senses told him someone was approaching. "Perfect. I could use a hostage, just in case the cops close in. And her home—wherever it is—might be a decent hideout. Maybe I'll even have a little fun while I'm there." His grin widened into something sickly and inhuman as he slowly ran his forked tongue across his lips.
"I'm sorry, little doll, but tonight's just not your night. You really should've thought twice before wandering into a Gotham alley this late." He let out a low, rasping chuckle. "But don't worry... I'll take real good care of you. You'll be safe—especially once I'm wrapped around you." With a predator's grin, Copperhead lunged toward the woman's silhouette, his claws already tipped with paralytic venom, just potent enough to weaken her, keep her from struggling too much.
This wasn't new territory for Copperhead. He'd done far worse before—killing, looting, murdering, forcing himself on other women, he had done it all without hesitation. To him, tonight was just another hunt. In fact, ever since he had received his weird snake-like augmentations, he felt even more untouchable. He felt stronger, faster, and deadlier. He felt like a true apex predator. In his arrogant mind, he believed that the only real threat left in Gotham capable of harming him was the Bat... and even he, Copperhead, believed, was just living on borrowed time.
However, things didn't quite go the way Copperhead had expected. As he closed the gap between himself and the woman, she, quite strangely, didn't try to scream or run. She didn't even freeze up like all the others when her eyes fell on his monstrous appearance. There was no panic or fear on her beautiful face—just an eerie calm.
For the first time in a long while, it was Copperhead who felt off balance. With every step, more of her came into view—tall, statuesque, built like an Amazon, and clad in strange, form-fitting red and gold armor that looked like something out of a high-budget Hollywood movie set in medieval times, yet undeniably real.
"What the—?" Copperhead began, eyes widening, just as the woman lifted her left hand with chilling grace. A soft purple glow shimmered at the center of her palm. His instincts screamed at him, warning him of the danger, but his body didn't listen. His momentum carried him forward, his pace far too fast to stop.
"No, ple—" he tried to say, but never finished. A blade of radiant purple light shot from the woman's hand and cleaved his skull cleanly in half, the cut so precise it split his face mere centimeters from her palm. His body hit the ground seconds later, collapsing at her feet with a dull thud, as if the laws of inertia didn't even apply to it.
"Huh? That was it?" Circe, who was currently possessing Wonder Woman's body, muttered, cocking her head slightly as she eyed the bisected corpse at her feet. "Pathetic. It was even weaker than the beasts crawling around Themiscyra's wilds." She let out a soft hum of disappointment, her gaze drifting to the alley around her. "What was a creature like this doing out in the open?... Don't tell me it slithered out during that prison break the news was buzzing about." Her voice was low as she mused over her next move.
"Tch, I should've just performed the summoning ritual. On second thought, coming here was beneath me. This whole city reeks of something rotten… like a maggot-infested carcass that refuses to die, festering with curses." She clicked her tongue, irritation flickering across Diana's face as Circe continued her inner monologue.
The truth was, Circe wasn't here for Gotham or its filth. She was here for him—the man the Amazonian princess had supposedly foolishly fallen for. The one harboring what Circe believed to be dormant fragments of a god's divinity. If she could just take that power for herself, maybe she could finally awaken the hidden potential she sensed within Diana's form—power that remained frustratingly locked away from her grasp.
"Wonder Woman, what are you doing here?" a cold, gravel-lined voice cut through the air, jolting Circe out of her thoughts. She spun around sharply, her eyes narrowing with surprise. Somehow, despite Diana's superhuman awareness, someone had managed to sneak up on her. A man, encased in a pitch-black high-tech armor, silently stood before her, holding the limp body of an unconscious pale-skinned girl slung over his shoulder.
Thump Thump. The heartbeat inside Diana's chest quickened the moment Circe locked her eyes on the man's imposing figure. But the sorceress wasn't naïve enough to mistake the reaction for sexual attraction. She had dealt with way too many men to fall for one at first glance, like in cliché romcoms. No, this wasn't her reaction—it was the body she was inhabiting. It was Diana's heart, not Circe's, that responded to him.
"Bruce!" she mouthed, a smile blossoming on her face before speaking again. "I just got back today. I was hoping to surprise you, but then I heard about what happened at Arkham. I had to come check if everything was alright. It's our duty to help those in need, after all, isn't it? But then this monster came at me—talking about wanting to violate me—so I defended myself. I killed him." She explained it all in a calm, even tone, masking her inner thoughts.
"…" Batman stood silently, taking in her words before glancing at the corpse, its skull neatly split in two. "I've told you," he said quietly, "refer to me as 'Batman' in public. Only 'Bruce' when we're operating under our normal aliases." His gaze returned to the dead metahuman. "You killed him?" He asked as if the death wasn't too much of a big deal to him.
"Yes, obviously. He was a threat, wasn't he? He attacked me, and if I were human, he would have succeeded. Also, you never said anything about a no-kill rule," she replied smoothly, her mind combing through Diana's memories—memories she'd accessed after binding the Amazon with her own lasso, stripping her of all her power and defenses, both physical and mental.
"…Yes," Batman said slowly, "he likely would've killed if you were a... mortal." He paused, lowering his head slightly. "And you're right. We never had that talk. I assumed you wouldn't kill anyone without making sure whether they were truly evil in the first place… or just being manipulated by someone evil… or forced into it by circumstances. That was my mistake." He glanced around the alley, scanning for potential witnesses, then pulled a small blue vial from a hidden compartment in his armor. Then he pressed a trigger on the side before tossing it onto the corpse.
The vial shattered on impact, and the blue liquid inside splashed across Copperhead's body. The reaction was immediate—the metahuman's flesh began to melt and dissolve. Soon, his entire body, including even his clothes, broke down and vanished within seconds. Within a minute, there was nothing left but a small dried-up, unremarkable grey bump on the pavement.
"But it's alright. I won't hold it against you," Batman said, his voice steady. "It was my mistake. Luckily, I had a contingency plan in place for something like this. And for what it's worth, I scanned his file just now—the man was irredeemable." He turned away from her, adjusting the unconscious woman slung across his shoulders. "Now let's go. I've got work to do." He paused for a moment. "Cortana, initiate nullfield protocol. I'm bringing home quite a villain," he muttered while tightening his grip on the pale, unconscious form of Harley Quinn.
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(A/N:What do you all think, everyone? Is Bruce in for a harsh surprise, or is Circe about to walk into something she'll soon regret?)
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