Chapter 76: The Ultimatum
A figure dropped through the hole in the ceiling, landing in a crouch on the debris-strewn floor. The impact kicked up a choking cloud of dust, filling the corridor and blurring Batman's view. His visor adjusted automatically, trying to pierce the haze.
He could make out a humanoid shape moving through the haze, but the details remained unclear.
"Robin?" Batman called out, his hand hovering near his utility belt.
"Not quite," came the response—spoken in Robin's voice.
As the smoke began to dissipate, the figure became visible. It was tall, roughly six feet, wearing a dark hoodie that cast deep shadows across its face.
In one hand, the figure held an unconscious form that Batman's chest tighten.
Robin dangled limp in the stranger's grip, his head tilted unnaturally. Activating his cowl's scanner, Batman swept over the boy's vitals—faint but steady breathing, stable pulse, no signs of critical trauma. The readings calmed his mind, but the unease lingered.
"Let him go," Batman said in a calm voice. "Your fight is with me." He couldn't risk showing the slightest weakness, not with Robin's life hanging in the balance.
The hooded figure chuckled—still in Robin's voice. "Oh, but Batman, that is not how the world works."
"Architect," Batman said grimly, his tactical mind already analyzing how to defuse the threat. "I thought you didn't harm innocents."
The hooded figure let out a laugh that somehow made Robin's voice sound poisonous. "Innocents? That's rich coming from someone who's enabled more death than prevented it."
"What greater good?" Batman asked, keeping his voice level steady.
"I want justice," the Architect replied, "Real justice. Not the revolving door charade you and your colorful friends have been running for years. I want you to finally do what should have been done the first time you caught the monster sleeping behind you."
Batman didn't need to turn around to know the Architect was referring to Firefly. The serial killer remained unconscious in the damaged laboratory, protected by the gas Batman had deployed hours earlier.
"You know I don't kill," Batman said. "Find another way to make your point."
The Architect's grip on Robin shifted slightly, and even unconscious, the boy seemed to react to some unseen pressure. "Oh, but that's exactly the problem, isn't it? You don't kill, Superman doesn't kill, Wonder Woman restrains herself, Flash captures them alive, Green Lantern constructs pretty cages." His voice—still eerily Robin's—grew more animated. "You're all so proud of your moral superiority while the bodies pile up."
Batman remained silent, but the Architect continued his rant.
"Twenty-three people burned alive in that nursing home, Batman. Twenty-three souls whose last moments were pure agony because you people lack the spine to do what's necessary. How many others could have been saved if you'd just pulled the trigger the first time Firefly struck?"
Batman's hand began moving imperceptibly toward a concealed control on his utility belt—a remote trigger for a micro-drone positioned in the corridor's ceiling. The device was small enough to avoid detection but powerful enough to create a distraction that might allow him to reach Robin.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the Architect said, noticing the subtle movement. His voice took on a lecturing tone. "You see, Batman, I've been studying all of you so-called heroes for quite some time. The World's Greatest Detective, they call you. Backups, backups, backups. Paranoid to the point of madness. Contingency plans for everyone and everything."
"I bet you have contigency plans for every villain you encountered. Why stop with villains, you might have for all your friends in the league too. Because deep down, you know they're all potential threats."
"That's different—" Batman started.
"Is it?" As he spoke, the Architect raised his free hand. Batman watched in alarm as the man's fingers elongated and sharpened, transforming into razor-tipped appendages that gleamed in the emergency lighting.
"You prepare to 'neutralize' your own teammates 'just in case,' but you won't eliminate a monster who burns children for entertainment. Explain that moral calculus to me, Dark Knight."
Batman froze, his finger millimeters from the activation switch.
"I know about the little surveillance device you positioned twelve feet above your current location," the Architect continued conversationally.
One of his elongated fingers shot upward, striking something in the darkness above. Sparks rained down as Batman's concealed drone exploded in a shower of electronic components.
The Architect's grip on Robin tightened, and the unconscious young hero let out a small sound of discomfort. Batman's jaw clenched as he recognized the implicit threat.
"Let's try to de-escalate this situation," Batman said, raising his hands slightly in a gesture of non-aggression. "You want justice for the victims of violent crime. I understand that motivation. But killing Firefly won't bring those people back. It won't prevent future crimes. It will just make another murderer."
"Killing him won't bring them back," Batman replied grimly.
"No, but it will prevent him from burning down another building full of innocents next month. Or next year. Because we both know Arkham's revolving door will spit him back out eventually." The Architect's voice grew more passionate. "Your Justice League has enough firepower to level continents, but you use it to play catch-and-release with mass murderers.If even a small time criminal can bribe a judge to get out of prison, what's stopping the powerful like you from ensuring they never go out?"
"So, spare me the philosophy lecture, batman." the Architect replied, his voice hardening. "I've heard all the arguments about rehabilitation, about the possibility of redemption, about the moral high ground."
The Architect began pacing slowly, keeping Robin positioned between himself and Batman like a human shield. "Do you know what it's like to listen to a ninety-year-old woman begging for help while her skin melts off her bones? Do you know what it sounds like when someone's lungs fill with superheated air and they can't even scream anymore?"
"I've seen Firefly's victims," Batman replied grimly. "I know the damage he's done. But becoming a killer won't honor their memory."
"How do you know that, Batman? Did they tell you from the grave?" the Architect asked, stopping his pacing to stare directly at Batman. "Or are you just afraid that once you cross that line, you won't be able to stop? Are you afraid that deep down, you know I'm right?"
Batman's tactical systems were running continuous analysis of the situation, calculating angles of attack, response times, probability matrices for successful rescue attempts. But every scenario ended with Robin in immediate danger.
"Here's what's going to happen," the Architect continued, his voice taking on the cadence of someone delivering an ultimatum. "You're going to wake up Garfield Lynns. You're going to look him in the eyes. And then you're going to do what should have been done years ago."
"And if I refuse?"
The Architect's elongated fingers pressed against Robin's throat, drawing tiny beads of blood. "Then this boy dies for your principles. And his blood will join the blood of every future victim your moral cowardice causes. How's that for a legacy, World's Greatest Detective?"
Batman could see the micro-cuts appearing on Robin's neck where the sharpened appendages touched flesh. Tiny beads of blood began forming along the shallow wounds.
"You have thirty seconds to decide," the Architect said, his borrowed voice carrying an note of finality. "Kill the monster, or watch your protégé die for your principles."
Batman's mind raced through possibilities, contingencies, desperate gambles that might save Robin without compromising everything he stood for.
"Twenty seconds," the Architect announced.
Batman looked at Robin's unconscious face, then at the damaged laboratory where Firefly continued his drug-induced sleep, oblivious to the life-and-death drama playing out around him.
"Fifteen seconds."
The choice was impossible. Save Robin and become the very thing he'd spent his life fighting against, or maintain his moral code and watch an innocent young hero die for his principles.
"Ten seconds."
"Five seconds."
"I need more time," Batman said finally, his voice heavy with the weight of an impossible decision.
The Architect smiled under the hood, and the expression was more terrifying than any monster Batman had faced in the facility.
Notes : You guys might be confused about the radical behaviour change. All I can say is bear with it for a while.
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Advanced chapters on patre*n
DC : Architect of Vengeance
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