"The current king of Wakanda is T'Chaka… Barbara, hack into the United Nations archives and pull everything on T'Chaka and the nation of Wakanda's external records."
Batman stood at the workbench in the Batcave, assembling both a new suit and a set of tentacles while issuing orders to the Oracle AI.
Venom slithered out of its ecological tank, crouched on Batman's shoulder, and peered curiously at the suit taking shape.
"Dad, is this suit for me?"
"No, Robin," Batman answered without looking up. "This one's for Doctor Otto."
The suit being made for Doctor Otto relied heavily on composite materials woven from various high-tech fibers; Parker Industries alone could supply everything needed at the raw-material level. Batman no longer had to start from scratch—buying fabric, buying industrial sewing machines—like he once did just to make his own cape.
"Doctor Otto? Why make a special suit just for him, Dad?" Venom still didn't get it. It tilted its head, eyes wide with innocent confusion.
Batman turned slightly to look at the symbiote perched on his shoulder. He hadn't brought Venom along when he'd gone to South Brothers Island as Peter Parker.
Hearing the question, Batman patiently explained:
"Because most human bodies are relatively fragile, Robin."
"Doctor Otto is terrified of the other two scientists here. That fear comes from knowing he has no way to protect himself. We need to remove that fear—turn his personal insecurity into the power to defend himself, and even others."
Venom nodded as if it halfway understood, then shot out its long tongue to lick Batman's chin—only to be intercepted by a piece of chocolate that appeared between Batman's fingers like a magic trick.
"Dad, if Doctor Banner and Professor Connors are so dangerous, why don't we just lock them up?" Venom asked through a mouthful of chocolate. "I saw in your memories that you once built a red-sunlight cage for Superman."
Batman paused his work and looked seriously at Venom.
"Because Superman is too powerful, Robin. I have to prepare for every possible scenario, exhaust every resource, and be ready to stop him if necessary."
"Those measures are last-resort contingencies that would only ever be used if Superman lost control. Right now, neither Connors nor Banner has done anything wrong. Professor Connors is even working hard to master his condition."
"If we locked them up now, all we'd create is a prisoner—and the hatred that grows in a prisoner's heart."
"But if we offer trust, security, and a chance at redemption, we might gain an ally and heal a broken soul."
Venom didn't seem to absorb the deeper philosophy; like an energetic little boy, it let the lecture go in one ear and out the other. Instead, it started wriggling and twisting in mimicry of the mechanical tentacles being built for Doctor Otto.
Batman knew force-feeding ethics lessons wouldn't work. He could only do what he'd done with every Robin before—teach by example, day after day, through action and presence.
It didn't take long. With the Oracle AI's robotic arms assisting, the suit and tentacles for Doctor Otto were finished.
"Robin, on me."
Batman extended one hand toward the symbiote that was still circling the tentacles.
Venom instantly abandoned the metal limbs and slithered up Batman's body in a flash, popping its head over his shoulder.
"Dad, who're we fighting this time?"
"South Brothers Island," Batman replied. "There might be a bit of a gladiatorial show today."
With that, he folded the newly completed suit, placed it carefully into a briefcase, then packed two spare pairs of pants separately. Only then did he and Venom-Robin climb into the Arkham Batmobile and depart.
Inside the laboratory on South Brothers Island, Doctor Otto was running fusion clean-energy simulations with Doctor Banner.
They wouldn't attempt a live fusion reaction until every simulation came back clean.
Professor Connors sat in his usual corner, but today he wasn't meditating. He simply stared into space, lost in thought.
Batman's arrival drew all three scientists' eyes. When they spotted the case in his hand, Doctor Otto stood first—he already seemed to know what it contained.
He hurried over, hands trembling slightly as he accepted the briefcase from Batman, set it on an empty table, and opened it.
Inside lay the neatly folded suit: primarily dark green, with orange-yellow accents that extended from the collar across both shoulders. The cuffs, belt, and boots were the same vibrant orange. There was no helmet; instead, a flat backpack was integrated seamlessly into the back—barely three centimeters thick.
Otto lifted the suit reverently, running his palms over the fabric inch by inch.
It was soft yet incredibly tough. He quickly discovered the myriad micro-sensors embedded throughout the lining, capable of reading bioelectric signals. All those sensors fed into the orange-yellow belt that served as the central control hub.
By now Banner and Connors had drifted over, both staring at the suit with open curiosity.
They knew anything Batman personally delivered couldn't be shoddy—especially a suit designed to let Otto protect himself if the Hulk or Lizard ever lost control.
They were dying to know exactly what this thing could do.
Connors was still training to keep his emotions in check, and Banner—being Banner—would never transform just to satisfy scientific curiosity by punching Otto in the face.
So the two men were left itching with unreleased questions.
Batman ignored their obvious eagerness; right now they looked no different from Venom spinning circles around the tentacles back in the cave.
"Doctor," he said simply to Otto, "try it on."
Otto nodded, took a few steps, and disappeared behind a privacy curtain in the corner. The rustle of fabric soon followed.
Banner and Connors exchanged a glance but, being the mature adults they were, resisted the childish urge to suddenly transform and scare the daylights out of Otto.
A few minutes later, Doctor Otto stepped out from behind the curtain in the full suit. He gave Batman a small nod of thanks, then spread his arms.
Under the increasingly wide-eyed stares of Connors and Banner, his feet slowly lifted off the ground.
From the almost impossibly thin backpack rose four mechanical tentacles. Two planted themselves firmly on the floor for stability; the other two curved forward over his shoulders, poised and ready.
Doctor Octopus was back.
Or rather—with Batman's backing—an all-new, upgraded Doctor Octopus had returned.