The city was experiencing a temporary, uneasy peace. Cobblepot's arrest had sent ripples of panic through the Gotham underworld, and Jim Gordon was momentarily hailed as a hero. The media, however, was obsessed with the Bat-Demon, whose identity was the city's favorite mystery.
Bruce Wayne, now firmly established as the "Charming Idiot," was preparing for his next strategic move.
The Siren's Arrival
The Batcomputer's focus was always systemic, and the Oracle's Cipher had flagged a new anomaly: a massive, untraceable influx of cash used to buy up large parcels of prime waterfront real estate, including the now-shuttered Penguin's Nest.
"Alfred, run a deep search on international holding companies specializing in 'environmental restructuring' and 'bio-aesthetics,'" Bruce commanded from the Batcave's console.
Alfred's voice crackled over the comms. "Master Bruce, the holding company traces back to a singular, untraceable shell corporation registered in Monte Carlo. The principal shareholder is listed only as 'N.Y.G.M.A.'"
Bruce knew that signature was likely The Riddler's future shell, but the purpose of the real estate acquisition was currently being executed by someone else entirely.
A news alert suddenly flashed across the Batcomputer's screen: "Mysterious Woman Takes Over Waterfront, Demanding 'Aesthetic Silence.'"
The accompanying video showed a stunning woman, radiating an aura of dangerous grace, flanked by two immense, brutish bodyguards. She was giving a press conference outside the former Penguin's Nest, which was already being draped in exotic fabrics and adorned with massive, ornate bird cages.
"My name is Carmine Falcone's personal asset manager," she announced into the microphone, her voice a captivating, high-pitched soprano. "This property is now subject to the terms of the 'Iceberg Contract.' All tenants within a mile radius must vacate immediately. Gotham is a filthy sewer, and I intend to make this section an island of perfection."
> [ANOMALY DETECTED: Unknown High-Level Adversary.]
> Current Status: Gaining organized crime foothold under Falcone's protection.
> Threat Level: High (Strategic/Mass Eviction).
> Identifying: Black Mask's Precursor/Falcone Asset (Future Siren/Black Mask Enforcer).
Bruce narrowed his eyes. This was a classic mob tactic, using intimidation and aesthetics to seize control. But the woman's voice—it had an unnerving, hypnotic quality, and her sheer confidence suggested more than simple management.
"This is not a clean fight, Alfred," Bruce observed. "Falcone is testing the waters now that Cobblepot is out. He's using a siren."
The Siren's First Move
Batman's immediate priority wasn't the woman; it was the systemic damage. The mandatory evacuation she demanded would uproot thousands of low-income families—creating instant chaos and new vulnerability for the Mob to exploit.
That night, Batman took to the skies in the Batwing Mark I (a modified WayneTech reconnaissance drone he controlled remotely, logged as "Atmospheric Survey Unit"). The Batwing was silent, fast, and equipped with enhanced thermal and kinetic sensors.
He found the 'Iceberg Contract' woman, now identified by the System as "Unknown Asset Delta-7," overseeing the forcible eviction of a massive apartment complex near the waterfront. Her two brutal bodyguards were smashing up the premises while she addressed the terrified tenants.
"You have been judged ugly, and you have been judged loud," she announced, her voice magically carrying across the courtyard. "This area is under new management. Leave now, or your ugliness will be purified."
When an elderly woman began to plead, the Siren simply raised her hand. Her voice cut the air—a single, piercing, sonic tone that wasn't loud, but agonizingly precise.
The old woman collapsed, clutching her ears, blood trickling from her ear canal. The sound had been physically targeted.
> [THREAT ANALYSIS UPGRADE: Delta-7 (The Siren) possesses sonic manipulation abilities.]
> Action Required: Immediate neutralization. Standard sonic countermeasures ineffective.
The Partnership is Forged
The escalating crisis forced Batman to make his move, not just against the villain, but to Jim Gordon.
He landed the Batwing in the middle of the crime scene, dropping from the aircraft's undercarriage onto a fire escape above the evacuation zone.
Simultaneously, an encrypted, high-priority alert flashed on Jim Gordon's private, burner phone—the only device that could receive messages from the Batcomputer.
> [BATMAN TO GORDON]: WATERFRONT, LEXINGTON AVENUE. MASS EVICTION IN PROGRESS. ADVERSARY POSSESSES SONIC WEAPONRY. YOUR FORCES ARE VULNERABLE. I REQUIRE A CLEAN PERIMETER AND A TACTICAL DIVERSION. NOW.
Gordon cursed, but he knew the Bat had superior intelligence. He ordered every available squad car to Lexington Avenue, demanding a perimeter be set up—not to catch the Bat, but to clear the streets of civilians and isolate the threat.
When the sirens wailed, The Siren turned her dangerous attention toward the police.
"Such ugly noise!" she shrieked, her voice rising to a high, shattering pitch.
The sound wave was directed at the line of police cruisers. Tires exploded, windows imploded, and the officers screamed, holding their heads in agony.
Batman moved. He activated a custom, highly specialized piece of gear: a pair of insulated, titanium-alloy ear defenders that covered his cowl's sensory input—a contingency against future sonic attacks.
He engaged his Grappling Launcher, swinging down from the fire escape and landing directly between The Siren and the incapacitated police force.
"The show is over," Batman growled, his voice modulator working through his insulated headset.
The Siren simply laughed—a sound that was pure musical malice. "A big, ugly brute in a rubber suit. You're trying to save them, little bat? Then let's see how long you can last."
She unleashed a concentrated, blinding wave of sonic energy directly at his chest plate.
The Batsuit Mark I held firm. The titanium plating absorbed the kinetic force, and the internal insulation protected his organs. He felt the impact, a sharp, powerful shove, but the suit was built to survive exactly this level of urban warfare.
He didn't waste time on physical combat. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out two modified Smoke Pellets—the ones Pamela Isley had helped him perfect—infused with a specific, synthetic chemical agent.
He didn't throw them at the Siren. He threw them at the massive bird cages around her.
The moment the smoke hit the cages, the chemical agent was released: a highly concentrated, non-toxic compound that triggered a localized, overwhelming panic response in avian life.
The birds—hundreds of exotic, caged parrots, finches, and macaws—erupted into a screaming, fluttering, chaotic frenzy. They clawed at the cages, creating a blinding, noisy, self-induced diversion.
The Siren, momentarily distracted by the sudden, uncontrolled noise and chaos of her prized birds, lost her sonic focus.
Batman seized the moment, throwing a Batarang—not at her, but at the main power box of the building.
Zzzzzzzt!
The lights went out. Apex Predator was back in the shadows
"Darkness is the cure for your aesthetic sickness," Batman stated, melting into the shadows.
He didn't need to capture her, only neutralize the threat and force her withdrawal. When the lights flickered back on seconds later, The Siren and her bodyguards were gone, abandoning the chaos of the birds and the screaming tenants
The Acknowledgment
The confrontation was over. The police were safe, the civilians were saved, and the threat had retreated.
Jim Gordon, still shaking from the sonic impact, walked over to the spot where Batman had stood. He found no trace of the vigilante, only the screaming birds and the damaged streets.
He reached for the special burner phone in his pocket. It vibrated instantly.
> [BATMAN TO GORDON]: ADVERSARY POSSESSES SONIC-MIMICRY ABILITIES. NEXT TIME, USE ACOUSTIC-DAMPENING FIELD. THE ICEBERG CONTRACT IS A FALCONE PROXY. ATTACK THE SUPPLY CHAIN, NOT THE ASSET.
Gordon looked at the message, then at the chaos of the birds and the fear in his men's eyes. The Bat had risked himself to save them and had just delivered the strategic intelligence needed to fight the Mob's next move.
He deleted the message and looked up at the moonless sky. He had a partner in the shadows now. A dangerous, arrogant, terrifying partner.
"Alright, you damn phantom," Gordon muttered, placing a hand on his police radio. "Let's track down a supply chain."
The partnership had begun.