A figure dropped silently from above, his cape folding into the darkness as his boots met the ground without a sound.
His eyes moved once, taking in the entire scene in a single sweep—the unconscious thug crumpled on the pavement, the knife lying useless a few feet away, the second man suspended in Daniel's grip, struggling for breath… and the Batarang, caught effortlessly between Daniel's fingers.
That last detail lingered just a fraction longer than the rest.
"Let him go."
"No," Daniel replied, just as calm, his gaze shifting back to the man in his hand as if Batman's presence changed nothing.
Batman stepped forward. "He's committed a crime," he said, his tone firm but restrained, "but that doesn't make you his executioner."
Before the words fully settled, a sharp thwip cut through the air as the grapnel gun fired, the cable snapping tight as it wrapped around Daniel's waist with mechanical precision. Batman pulled back immediately.
Daniel didn't move.
Not even slightly.
The cable went taut, the force transferring cleanly—and failing completely.
"That's where you're wrong," Daniel said. "Laws are constructs made for humans, boundaries created to control weakness." His grip tightened just enough to draw a strained gasp from the thug. "I'm not bound by them."
"I have the authority," Daniel continued, his gaze cold and detached, "to decide who lives… and who dies."
Batman released the tension on the line, letting the cable slacken as he stepped closer, his presence pressing into the space between them.
"No, you don't."
"Power doesn't give you the right to pass judgment," he continued, his tone hardening with conviction rather than volume. "I've seen what happens to people who start believing that. They stop seeing lives—they start seeing problems to erase."
"That's the line," said Batman, his voice low with quiet finality. "The one you don't come back from."
Daniel let out a short laugh, more amused than mocking. "Batman and his morals," he said, the edge of a smile forming.
His grip loosened.
The thug dropped to the ground, collapsing onto his knees as he gasped for air, coughing hard while clutching his throat. He didn't try to run this time. Survival had taken priority over everything else.
Daniel ignored him.
He turned to face Batman fully. Then he extended his hand, a simple gesture that didn't match the tension in the alley.
"Daniel Haken," he said evenly. "Not your average human."
Batman didn't take the hand.
His attention stayed on Daniel. The caught Batarang, the failed pull from the grapnel line, the complete lack of strain—none of it fit a normal profile. Strength, control, timing. Not luck.
"I don't care what you call yourself," Batman said, voice steady. "But you don't go around trying to kill people."
A brief pause, then—
"Gotham already has enough criminals. It doesn't need another one."
Daniel let out a short laugh, clearly entertained.
"Right," he said, tilting his head slightly. "And this is coming from a man in a bat costume who hunts people at night, breaks bones, and introduces himself like—" he gestured lightly, tone mocking but amused, "—'I'm vengeance. I'm the night. I'm the darkness.' And you're telling me to tone it down?"
His eyes stayed on Batman, grin still there.
"That's a little ironic, don't you think?"
Batman didn't react to the jab.
"I don't introduce myself," he said, voice flat. "I make a point."
"Fear keeps them from trying it again. Pain reminds them what happens if they do." A brief pause. "But they wake up the next day."
The distinction was clear.
"They get a chance to stop," Batman continued. "You take that away."
Daniel gave a faint shrug, unconcerned. "Well, Batman, who am I to question your logic?" he said. "I'm not trying to be a hero or a vigilante. I live like anyone else. I've got a family. A normal life."
His tone stayed casual, almost detached.
"I just do my job," he added. "People live. People die. It happens every day."
Batman studied him in silence for a moment, reading past the words instead of reacting to them.
"You're detached," he said. "From consequence. From people."
Daniel tilted his head slightly, as if considering it.
"Am I?" he replied. "Maybe."
The distant wail of police sirens cut through the night, growing louder as red and blue light began to flicker faintly at the mouth of the alley.
Daniel glanced toward the sound, then back at Batman, the same faint smile returning.
"Looks like we're done for now," he said. "Next time, maybe we talk without interruptions."
Before anything else could be said, his form slipped back, dissolving into the shadows as if the darkness itself swallowed him whole.
Batman didn't move immediately.
His eyes lingered on the spot where Daniel had been, expression unreadable, already turning over everything—strength, intent, control.
Then the sirens grew closer.
Without a word, Batman fired his grapnel, the line catching high above as he ascended the building in one smooth motion, vanishing into the skyline just before the police arrived.
*****
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