Starting With Batman

"What is that?" Charlie whispered, his pulse quickening as his eyes tracked the eerie movement within the shadows ahead.

"Insufficient data to make a full assessment," Friday's voice hummed in his ear, her tone calm despite the rising tension. "Based on the limited DNA scan from detective mode, it is not human."

"Infected, then?" Charlie's grip tightened on the controls, instinctively pulling Batman's holographic cloak tighter around him.

"Not quite," Friday replied. "It appears to be in a state between death and infection—something more advanced."

Charlie's vision adjusted to the dimly lit corridor, narrowing in on the shape that slithered closer. The creature's movements were unnerving—low to the ground, its form barely discernible from the blackened environment, as though it were part of the shadow itself. Every scrape of its claws against the floor sent a shiver down his spine. The ruined walls around them seemed to close in as the beast approached, its presence distorting the air, thickening the atmosphere with a palpable sense of dread.

He could almost smell the dampness of the underground chambers, mingling with the stale air as the creature's low growls reverberated against the stone walls. The uneven rhythm of its crawl echoed like distant thunder, a warning just out of reach.

When the distance between them closed to no more than a few feet, the thing suddenly sprang into action. Its limbs unfurled like jagged blades, launching itself toward Charlie with terrifying speed. His heart jumped into his throat as the creature's form filled his vision, black and malformed, a blur of grotesque limbs.

But before his fingers could even brush the evasive controls, Larry Wade was already in motion.

The whoosh of air as Larry moved to intercept was almost as startling as the creature's attack. With lightning precision, Larry's hand darted out, and Charlie watched in awe as his long arm caught the beast mid-leap, his fingers closing around its throat with an ironclad grip. There was a sickening crack, followed by a gurgling scream as the creature writhed, suspended in midair by Larry's hold.

Charlie's breath caught as he took in the full horror of the thing now illuminated in the dim light. It wasn't just black—it looked charred, its skin taut and cracking like burned wood. Beneath the scorched flesh, bones jutted out at odd angles, and its eyes, small and sunken, gleamed with a feverish hunger. The thing was human-shaped, but only in the loosest sense of the word. It had been twisted, contorted into something monstrous, something that should never have existed.

Larry's expression remained calm, his jaw set in an easy confidence that only someone of immense strength could carry. With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed the creature aside, its body hitting the ground with a sick thud. But the thing wasn't done. It scrambled back to its feet, letting out another gurgling screech, its elongated arms swiping wildly toward Larry.

Larry didn't even flinch. With a step to the side, he caught the creature's wrist mid-swipe and twisted with a brutal efficiency. The sound of tearing flesh filled the air as he ripped the arm clean from its socket. Black liquid—thicker and more viscous than blood—gushed from the wound, splattering onto the cracked stone floor in great, foul-smelling pools.

Charlie's stomach churned at the gruesome sight. It wasn't blood—it was something worse. Something toxic, like the bile of a rotting corpse.

Larry delivered a swift kick to the creature's chest, sending it flying across the room like a broken doll. The thing's body collided with the far wall, its skull caving in with a sickening crunch. But Larry didn't stop to admire his handiwork. With the creature lying motionless, he threw the severed arm aside and turned back to Charlie with a grin, as if to say, See? Nothing to it.

"As I said, don't worry," Larry's voice was calm, almost lighthearted. "I'm strong."

Charlie gave a small, forced smile, his mind still processing the sheer brutality of what he had just witnessed. The dark corridors around them seemed to press in closer, the weight of the underground tomb feeling heavier with each passing moment. The air was cold, almost suffocating, as if the ruins themselves were alive, watching them, waiting for their next move.

"According to the files, Larry's physical capabilities are at the absolute peak of human performance," Friday's voice crackled in Charlie's ear, pulling him back to the task at hand.

"The same goes for Fana, right?" Charlie muttered under his breath, his eyes still scanning the surrounding shadows for more threats.

"Correct," Friday confirmed. "But Larry's true strength lies in his Phantom powers."

Charlie had read about Larry's Phantom in the files, but the details were frustratingly vague. He had expected to see it in action by now, but so far, Larry hadn't bothered to use it. Maybe he didn't need it yet.

As they moved deeper into the ruin, the path grew narrower, the stone walls closing in on either side. Each step echoed hollowly, a stark contrast to the silence that lingered in the dark corners of the tomb. The air felt heavier here, laden with centuries of decay and the weight of secrets long buried beneath the earth.

Ahead, Larry navigated the crumbling pathways effortlessly, his boots crunching over loose gravel and debris that had fallen from the ceiling. They passed by old stone carvings, barely visible under the layers of dust and time. The engravings depicted scenes of ancient rituals—strange, distorted figures kneeling before towering deities. Charlie barely had time to process their meaning before his attention was drawn to another sound—something sharp, scraping across stone.

Another creature. This one was even faster, launching itself from the wall without warning.

But Larry was faster still. His fist collided with the creature's chest, the impact sending a shockwave through the narrow corridor. It crumpled under his blow, its body twitching as it hit the ground. Before the others could react, Larry had already spun around, disarming one with a swift motion and delivering a crushing blow to the second with a flying kick.

As they moved forward, Larry continued to draw the attention of the creatures, deliberately placing himself between Charlie and the threats. Every time Charlie glanced back, he saw the same unwavering confidence in Larry's posture. It was as if this whole situation was just another day at the office for him.

Still, Charlie couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Despite their growing numbers, Larry hadn't once activated his Phantom. For a man touted as the "Phantom Driver," his reluctance to use it was becoming more and more curious.

Just then, Friday's voice broke through the haze of Charlie's thoughts, sharp and urgent.

"Sir, a new target is approaching... from behind!"

Charlie's heart skipped. He spun the camera view just in time to see a section of the blackened wall behind him crack and shudder. Dust and debris sprayed across the ground as something enormous burst through the stone. Before he could react, a hand shot out from the rubble, fingers like iron clamps closing around Batman's throat.

Charlie's vision blurred as the figure yanked him backward with staggering force, slamming him against the crumbling wall. He gasped, his mind racing as the figure's face came into view, its features sharp and menacing.

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