The second person Jude looked for was Grundy.
He found the big guy at the children's shelter, which had become something of a permanent residence. Grundy sat on the floor surrounded by kids who were using him as a combination jungle gym and storytelling chair.
Jason Todd was there too, reading aloud from a worn copy of Treasure Island while smaller children climbed on Grundy's shoulders.
Jude watched the scene for a moment. Peaceful. Almost normal, if you ignored the fact that the babysitter was an undead swamp monster.
"Grundy," he said quietly, pulling the big man aside. "I need to ask you something."
"Friend need help?" Grundy's face brightened. "Grundy help friend!"
"I'm going away for a while. To another place. Dangerous work. I was wondering if you'd want to come with me."
Grundy looked back at the children. At Jason reading. At the little ones who'd fallen asleep using his arm as a pillow.
"Grundy... Grundy stay here." His voice was apologetic. Sad, even. "Children need Grundy. Who watch children if Grundy go?"
Jude followed his gaze. Saw the trust in those young faces. The safety they felt around someone who should have been a monster but had chosen to be a guardian instead.
"Yeah," Jude said softly. "You're right. They need you here."
He patted Grundy's massive arm. "Take care of them, big guy."
Grundy couldn't be taken away. Which meant moving to the next option.
Mr. Freeze looked up from his monitoring station when Jude entered the prison control room.
The temperature was arctic. Frost covered every surface. Victor's breath misted in the air despite the environmental suit keeping him alive.
"Jude." A nod of acknowledgment. Professional. They'd developed a working relationship over months of collaboration. "What brings you here?"
"I'm going away for a while. Dangerous work. I was wondering if you'd be interested in—"
Victor was already shaking his head. "I'm worried about the management of the Prison. Who would I hand over to?"
He gestured at the monitors showing various cell blocks. Prisoners working. Learning. Some even smiling, which was frankly unsettling for a prison.
"This place requires constant supervision," Victor continued. "The systems. The security protocols. The rehabilitation programs. Without proper management—"
"Forget it, Freeze." Jude raised a hand. "You should continue to watch over the prisoners. After all, the prison isn't safe without you."
It was true. Victor had turned Wayne Prison into something that actually worked—a rehabilitation facility that treated inmates like people who could change instead of animals to be caged.
Removing him now would be catastrophic.
Jude sighed. "Batman's been searching for a new backup prison guard for months. Still hasn't found anyone qualified. This is very un-Batman-like."
"Perhaps he has higher standards than usual," Victor suggested. "This isn't just security. It's rehabilitation. Psychology. Engineering. Not many people have all three skill sets."
"Yeah, well. Guess you're stuck here."
So Jude left the frozen control room and headed for his next option.
Batman.
"Wait, wait! What are you doing?!"
Commissioner Gordon—dark circles under his eyes so pronounced they looked like bruises—grabbed Jude before he could sprint past the front desk.
"Slow down," Gordon said, holding him by the shoulder. "Explain yourself first."
Jude was slightly out of breath from running up the GCPD stairs. "I want to borrow your key. I need to go up to the rooftop to turn on the Bat-Signal and find Batman."
Gordon's heart skipped a beat. His grip tightened reflexively.
"What big thing happened again?" His voice was carefully neutral, but Jude could hear the dread underneath. Please not another crisis. Please not another supervillain. Please not another anything.
"It's nothing serious," Jude said quickly. "Just some personal matters. I want to ask him for help with something."
Gordon's shoulders sagged with relief. He actually looked like he might collapse.
"This is a critical period," he muttered, more to himself than to Jude. "The entire police station is extremely busy. I really didn't want anything else to happen."
He looked as exhausted as Harvey. Probably hadn't slept in days. Running on coffee and determination.
"Then you'd better not go." Gordon released Jude's shoulder. "Batman said he has something to do recently. The patrol work in Gotham City has been handed over to Catwoman."
Jude blinked. "There's such a thing? Where is he? And can Catwoman handle it all by herself? Why doesn't he go find the Wheelchair Stripper?"
Gordon's expression did something complicated. "He said the Wheelchair Stripper's style of doing things was a bit... too cruel."
"Fuck that!" Jude was genuinely furious. "How dare he call others cruel! Have you seen what he does to people?!"
"Anyway." Gordon spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "This is the situation. Don't turn on the Bat-Signal when you have nothing urgent. He said to wait until something serious happens before contacting him."
Jude stared at the Commissioner for a long moment. Processing.
Batman was unavailable. Handed off patrol duties to Catwoman. Specifically avoiding Jude.
Which meant his only remaining option was—
"Fine," Jude muttered. "Thanks, Gordon."
He left the police station and headed for Wayne Manor.
The butler Alfred opened the door before Jude could knock. He had that way about him—always knowing when someone was approaching, always perfectly prepared.
"Mr. Jude." A polite smile. "How may I help you?"
"Is Bruce available? I need to ask him something."
Alfred's smile didn't falter, but something in his eyes shifted. "Young Master Wayne has been very busy lately. He's still at the company and didn't even return to the manor last night."
He stepped aside, gesturing Jude into the foyer anyway.
"If it weren't for your flower tea," Alfred continued, leading him toward the sitting room, "he probably wouldn't have been able to hold on."
Jude followed, confused. "What is he busy with? He doesn't usually do any serious work."
The moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them.
Alfred stopped. Turned. His smile had frozen into something polite and glacial.
"Ahem." The sound was pointed. Sharp. "Mr. Jude. Please be polite."
Jude shut his mouth obediently.
The old man seemed a little unhappy. Which was terrifying, because Alfred's displeasure was somehow worse than Batman's.
"It's about Wayne Prison and the Gotham Rehabilitation Project," Alfred explained, his tone carefully measured. "These two initiatives are being carried out simultaneously, and the workload is very heavy. I think it may take some time for the young master to adjust to this normal pace of life."
He poured Jude a cup of tea—automatically, the perfect host even when annoyed.
"Running a corporation. Managing a private prison system. Coordinating with the District Attorney's office. Overseeing rehabilitation programs. All while maintaining his... other commitments."
Alfred's emphasis on "other" made it clear he meant the Batman work.
"He's learning to be Bruce Wayne the businessman instead of just Bruce Wayne the trust fund playboy," Alfred continued. "It's exhausting him. But it's necessary."
Jude accepted the tea. Sipped it. Realized he had nothing useful to say.
Everyone was busy. Everyone was essential to the machinery currently dismantling Gotham's criminal infrastructure. Everyone had responsibilities they couldn't abandon.
Which left him exactly where he'd started.
Alone.
"So in the end, I still have to travel alone to work."
Jude stood in his apartment after finishing packing. Not that there was much to pack—everything important lived in his inventory. The wheelchair. The Horn of Plenty. Various weapons and survival gear accumulated over months of Gotham employment.
He opened his system panel. Actually looked at it properly for the first time in months.
The last time he'd really examined his progress was... when? Back at the hospital? Before the Holiday Killer case? Time blurred together in Gotham.
"But if you think about it," he muttered, scrolling through the information, "at least I have a lot of abilities now."
SYSTEM PANEL
Asset Points: $153,627
Skills:
Primary Mental Resistance
Primary Combat Proficiency
Intermediate English Proficiency
Intermediate Motorcycle Driving Proficiency
Intermediate Lock Picking Proficiency
Intermediate Swordsmanship Proficiency
Intermediate Physical Fitness Enhancement
Intermediate Nature Language Proficiency
Advanced Cooking Proficiency
Advanced Car Driving Proficiency
Advanced Stealth Proficiency
Advanced Climbing Proficiency
Advanced Tracking Proficiency
Advanced Blowgun Proficiency
Advanced Acting Proficiency
Advanced Disguise Proficiency
Advanced Computer Proficiency
Advanced Firearms Use Proficiency
Master Wheelchair Driving Proficiency
Items:
Modified Wheelchair
Demon-Repelling Pumpkin Lantern
Horn of Plenty
Double-Edged Straight Sword
Hacker Two-Piece Set
Eavesdropping Location Lighter
Assassin's Blowpipe
Black and White Double-Sided Coin
Portable Garden Contents:
· Golden Kettle [Unlimited water supply]
· Plant Fertilizer x8
· Pesticide x10
· Phonograph
· Gardening Gloves
· Mushroom Garden [Fungi plant space]
· Aquarium [Aquatic plant space]
· Flower Pots
· PvZ Plants
Special Skills:
Enhanced Cold Resistance
Deep Sleep
Gather and Start a Group
I Didn't Kill Anyone
Jude examined the list with mixed feelings.
A number of skills had changed since he'd last checked. Some he'd upgraded by spending asset points. Others he'd bought outright.
The most interesting was Primary Combat Proficiency. He hadn't purchased that one. Instead, he'd acquired it through months of training in the virtual reality tactical training game.
It wasn't very useful yet—primary level meant "can throw a punch without breaking his own thumb"—but it was still a small improvement.
There was no other way around it. Time was too short. Training for a few months in virtual reality tactical training game wasn't the same as training for years, or even a decade.
Looking at his own panel, Jude finally felt a little relieved.
At least he had some ability to protect himself now. Right?
Hard to say.
This panel would be very powerful in other places. Normal cities. Universes with lower power scaling.
But if it was in Gotham—
Jude felt he'd probably have to continue practicing. A lot. For a long time.
Maybe forever.
A notification appeared.
[One minute remaining until business trip departure. Please be prepared.]
Jude sat down on his worn couch. Waited quietly.
He didn't need to prepare anything. Weapons, self-defense items, survival gear—all in the inventory. His apartment was paid up for the next month. His few friends knew he'd be gone.
There was nothing left to do but wait.
[Countdown in progress: five... four... three... two...]
The system began emitting a faint white light. Soft at first. Then brighter. Intensifying. Until Jude had to close his eyes against the glare.
A strange sense of impact struck his mind.
Not painful. Not exactly. More like... pressure. Like being underwater. Like the world was pressing in from all directions at once.
He couldn't see anything. His thoughts suddenly came to a standstill.
[Heading to business trip location—]
[Arrived at destination.]
[Confirming world structure based on timeline of individual "Jude Sharp."]
And then the system went silent for a moment. Processing.
When it spoke again, the notifications came rapid-fire. Urgent. Like it was surprised by what it was detecting.
[WARNING: Changes in world's fundamental structure detected]
[SUPER TIME STREAM detected—temporal anomalies present]
[ELEMENTAL POWERS detected—The Red of Life, The Green of All Things, The Black of Decay, The Ash of Decay, The Spirit of Metal]
[COURT OF OWLS detected—secret society, Gotham-specific threat]
[BARBATOS detected—WARNING: Dark Multiverse entity present]
Jude felt like he was half asleep and half awake.
Consciousness drifting. Mind floating somewhere between dimensions, caught in the space between universes where reality got fuzzy around the edges.
He opened his eyes drowsily. Blinked. Everything was blurry.
After several seconds, his mind became clear—like being pulled to the surface from the deep sea, lungs burning, finally gasping air.
He could faintly hear a man's voice talking nearby. Calm. Almost bored.
Everything around him was dark.
"I'm Jude," he muttered to himself. Grounding. Focusing. "Yes. I'm here on a business trip."
He looked up and around.
Found himself standing behind a curtain. Heavy velvet. Stage curtains. The kind used in theaters.
Around him: a group of people with frightened faces.
They were wearing formal suits. Some even had ties. Dressed like they were attending a business meeting or gala. But their expressions—
Terror. Absolute terror.
They stood behind the curtain with him, seemingly waiting to go on stage. Performers in some kind of show.
The strange thing was that their eyes were fixed on the person in the spotlight on the actual stage. They seemed to care nothing about the audience below.
Actually—
Jude stuck his head around the curtain edge, peering into the theater proper.
Rows and rows of empty seats. Hundreds of them. A massive theater, completely vacant.
A performance without an audience?
No.
Jude narrowed his eyes. There was someone in the audience. One person. Standing in the darkness beyond the stage lights.
On stage, a man in a suit stood in the spotlight. Sweating. Trembling. Trying to tell a joke.
"So—so this traveling salesman walks into a bar, and—"
"That's enough."
The figure in the darkness raised something. A gun.
The weapon was pointed casually at the performer. Like this was routine. Expected.
"This joke is just as boring as the last one."
"No, sir, please—" The performer's voice cracked. Desperate. "I can do better! I have more jokes! Please, just give me another—"
The bullet went out.
The actor fell to the ground.
Blood spread across the stage. Dark. Almost black under the harsh lights.
The figure in the darkness lowered his gun. Waved his hand dismissively at the corpse like he was swatting a fly.
Then he looked in Jude's direction.
Directly at the curtain.
Directly at him.
"Okay," the voice said. Flat. Emotionless. "Next one."
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