Bruce after meeting his parents and giving the books of exorcism and everything and told to wear anti demon bracelet and given to everyone who is working in our house.
Bruce called his team, In past five years he had team of three individual
First one wade Deadpool, before cancer bruce had hired him, as wade got terminal cancee, bruce gave him Money for treatment and at end Deadpool disappeared and return again.
Another member was Catwoman, and poison ivy, both women had stories with bruce, which would be told in future.
Next day, Thomas sat surrounded by Men of Letters journals. Dawn light filtered through the study windows.
Bruce entered without knocking.
"You're still reading?" Bruce asked.
"I can't stop," Thomas said. He held up a journal. "Patrick's handwriting. These are observations about hunts. Creatures. Methods for killing things that shouldn't exist." He set it down carefully. "Your grandfather spent his life fighting invisible wars."
"And he died doing it."
"Yes."
Thomas stood up. He walked to the window and looked out at Gotham's skyline.
" Father, I think we have to start preparing for future! "
"What do you mean?"
Bruce didn't sit. He stood at the bookshelves, running his fingers along the artifact cases.
"Now I know the world is real. Demons are real. Creatures are real. And we are unprepared"
"It's preparation for future," Bruce said.
Thomas studied his son's face and nodded.
[ Next month]
Professor Margaret Chen's office was organized chaos.
Books stacked on shelves. Papers arranged in precise piles. A photograph of her family on the desk—husband, two children, both smiling.
Bruce sat across from her, holding a translation exercise.
"Your pronunciation is flawless," Professor Chen said. "This is ecclesiastical Latin—the formal religious language. Most students struggle with the nasal vowels. You sound native."
"Private tutoring," Bruce said. "Family emphasis on classical languages."
"Where did you study?"
"Private collection. Specialized texts."
Professor Chen smiled. She didn't push further.
"These exorcism texts are fascinating," she said, gesturing to Bruce's study materials. "The binding formulas require exact pronunciation. One syllable wrong, and the entire ritual fails. Latin was a language of precision. Every word carried weight."
"Why do you think exorcism texts were written in Latin, and why all related to Sanskrit?" Bruce asked.
"Power," Chen said immediately. "Latin was the language of authority because of power ruling party, but in the end, Sanskrit is mother of all languages, the word of god , the language of God is sanskrit you use the language that carries centuries of accumulated force."
Bruce nodded.
"Are you doing PhD in lany" Chen asked.
Bruce said. "PhD is longer view, i think this world is filled with so many ancient language, i need to learn and understand all , find the mystery of language "
By the end of the semester, Bruce could recite forty exorcism rituals flawlessly. He could
pronounce Aramaic demon-binding phrases. He understood the theological framework that made Latin words carry supernatural weight.
He was ready.
In mean time,The Osborn Technologies building rose forty stories above Manhattan. Tuesday afternoon. Educational outreach program.
Bruce moved through the genetic research wing in civilian clothes. Dark jeans. Gotham University hoodie. Unremarkable.
High school students crowded around displays. Spider venom analysis. Biomechanical engineering. Genetic mutation studies.
Then the handler gestured toward a secure case.
"These specimens are our most advanced research," the handler explained. "Radioactive spiders. Genetically enhanced. Exposure to controlled radiation has increased their neural capacity, physical strength, and predatory instinct significantly."
The spiders were bright purple. Aggressive. Moving constantly against the glass.
Bruce watched carefully.
One spider's leg caught the cage latch.
The door opened slightly.
The purple spider crawled out. Fast. Purposeful.
No one noticed except Bruce.
The spider disappeared into the crowd. Students shuffled between displays. Teachers pointed at diagrams.
Then the spider struck.
A boy collapsed. Clutching his arm. A small bite mark appeared, already swelling red.
"I'm okay," the boy said quickly, standing up. "Just a spider bite. It's fine."
Peter Parker. Fifteen years old. Orphaned. Brilliant.
The handler rushed to secure the cage again.
Bruce had already moved. A small transparent container from his jacket. The purple spider was disoriented near an electrical outlet.
Bruce trapped it. Sealed the container. Pocketed it.
No one saw.
Peter Parker walked out with his friends, his arm tingling. Something alive inside the wound. Something changing.
Bruce watched him leave.
The spider in his pocket—the purple one—was not the one that mattered.
Tonight, he would retrieve the other fourteen.
The converted warehouse in Brooklyn's industrial sector was a fortress.
Weapons on the walls. Surveillance monitors. Equipment cases stacked floor to ceiling.
Bruce stepped forward with the blueprint.
"Osborn Labs. Sub-level 3. Genetic research wing," he thought, looking at the schematic. "Fifteen radioactive spiders. All enhanced. All dangerous."
The ventilation system was dark.
Bruce quickly cut the electricity and jamm the security camera.
The lab was silent. Security cameras looped. No one watching. No one would know they were there.
He reached the containment chamber.
14 spiders. Purple. Aggressive. Moving. Each in separate reinforced containers on a climate-controlled shelf.
Container by container, he transferred the spiders carefully.
Fifteen minutes. Twelve spiders secured.
Thirteen. Fourteen.
As he left the place, and reached his home.
Next day, Osborn industries news and reporter crowded for theft of mutant spider, but mr Osborn shut down the news easily. Because this will affect his company share value and reputation.
On other side, Bruce's private laboratory was underground. Beneath Wayne Manor. Reinforced. Isolated.
He set up fifteen lead-lined containers. Climate control calibrated precisely. Temperature. Humidity. Light cycles. All maintained automatically.
Bruce placed the fifteen radioactive specimens inside in one container, suddenly his hand cut when one of spider container fell and break, bruce quickly carry the injured spider and put into container, the injured spider was covered with bruce blood.
Then he waited.
Night fell.
The spiders began to move.
Something in the radiation. Something in the mutation. Something in the genetic enhancement triggered predatory behavior beyond normal parameters.
One spider was naturally dominant, Aggressive. It had consumed the weakest specimen within the first hour.
Then it moved to the next spider.
The dominant spider's behavior was surgical. Efficient. It did not stop.
By midnight, nine spiders remained.
By 3 AM, only three survived. The dominant spider and two others that had proven difficult to catch.
By dawn, the movement had stopped.
Next morning,Bruce opened the observation chamber carefully.
" What happened here? Where are other spider"
Fourteen spider nowhere to seen.
One remained..
He quickly go to monitor and checked the footage, and saw spider eating each other.
Inside was a single spider. Tiny. Golden. With a web pattern across its back like a tattoo. Perfectly formed. Alive. Conscious.
The other spiders had disappeared.
This one was what remained.
Bruce picked up the container.
The golden spider moved toward the glass, as if aware of his presence.
"Welcome," Bruce whispered.
He placed the container on the table. Tiny golden spider move around his wrist and spider hesitate for second and injected the venom directly into his radial artery.
Pain.
Heat. Burning. The venom spread through his bloodstream like fire.
His body convulsed. His vision blurred. Every nerve ending ignited.
He collapsed on the floor.
The transformation began.