Hello folks, ShadowMajin here with Anonymous Void. Here it is, the next installment in our series and the third chapter in this running trilogy. We hope y'all enjoy.

The water below was calm, interrupted only by the waves that washed up on the shore. The dark shadow that flew over it belonged to a helicopter, one that was accompanied by two others, all racing to an island that stood stoically as it took in the battering from the sea around it.

Propellers chopped through the air, the armed men inside the aircrafts locked and loaded, ready for a war. From their low altitude above the sea, the helicopters began raising higher into the air as they came closer to the island. No one spoke, even as they came to a stop over a large complex that their briefings informed them was Peña Duro prison. This was their destination and where the operation would commence. In response, the men pulled down masks over their faces and readied themselves to jump.

As soon as the side door was slid open, ropes were thrown out and the men were jumping soon after, sliding down the ropes to the roof below. Boots landed and crunched against the hard surface, clasped loosened to allow them to hurry to the nearest rooftop entrance. From there, the penetration of the prison was smooth. Military-grade rifles led the way for the body armor-wearing men through the maze of ancient hallways to the newer ones.

If there was any resistance, it was handled immediately. Silencers muffled the sounds of gunshots that felled prison guards and prisoners alike. No prisoners would be taken, no mercy given. They were on the clock, having mere minutes to complete their mission.

Coming across a door with a keypad next to it, one of the men pulled out a key card and slid it in. The pad lit up with green lights and the door slid open, allowing them access. Without needing an invitation, the men trekked further in, now including quick searches of the rooms they came across. The "clears" were quick and immediate, each one signifying that they had yet to find their target.

Until they did.

As the latest door was opened, the room held a man in a white lab coat who glanced up, not batting an eye at the commandos that invaded his personal sanctum. The man with the keycard took point, approaching the glasses-wearing man who continued to show no signs of surprise or fear. "Dr. Porter?"

"What brings you here?" Dr. Porter asked mildly, pushing himself away from the computer monitor he had, until then, been working on.

"I have orders to retrieve you, Doctor. We need to evacuate," the commando stated.

Porter shook his head. "Sorry, but I'm afraid that will not be happening."

"I have my orders, Sir."

"And I am refusing to join you, son. There is too much important work here for me to abandon."

"Give him to me."

Only the commando heard the voice, through his radio naturally. That was an order he heard and, after years in the military, he was quick to respond, sliding a hand under his mask and detaching the earpiece he wore.

Pulling it out, he held it to Porter. "My superior wants a word."

Porter remained nonplus, staring blandly at him for a moment before turning his gaze to the earpiece and accepting it. Putting it up to his ear, the researcher asked, "And who may this be?"

"These men are here to retrieve you. Do not make this any harder and evacuate with them, Dr. Porter. As of now, Project Gilgamesh is officially terminated."

Though the person on the other end of the line didn't, and wouldn't, see it, Porter shook his head in the negative. "And my answer remains the same. I will not leave my work and there is too much to do. There is not going to be another opportunity for me to continue my research and my formula could still be improved."

"You've been compromised, Doctor. I don't know how those children were able to sneak in, nor do I know what they made off with, but I am not going to take the chance that they tell anyone about it. Gilgamesh will be shut down, one way or the other. Now go with Colonel Flag and don't cause any more problems."

"My answer remains the same. I will not give my research up."

"I see. Give the radio back."

Pulling the earpiece away, Porter gave the device a look before handing it back to the commando. "Call's over."

Already putting the earpiece back on, he heard loud and clear, "Terminate him."

Without hesitation, he raised his rifle and pulled the trigger, filling Porter's body with several bullets. The scientist face expressed surprise and nothing else and he slumped in his seat, falling over onto the floor and laying still. Behind him, blood splattered on the work surface and the monitor that remained lit up Miraculously, no bullets had hit the machine.

Jumping into action, the commando was pulling out a flashdrive and inserting it into one of the ports. From there, he opened up a program and downloaded into the computer. Instantaneously, the images on the screen began to fuzz up until it was all unintelligible, the computer virus uploaded into it already taking effect. In seconds, it would compromise all the computers linked to it via wireless connection, contaminating, distorting, and outright destroying all information stored in their memory banks.

Retrieving the flashdrive, the commando next pulled out a block of C4 and set it up on the workstation. Behind him, his comrades were doing the same, sending out the order to wire the whole wing up. Nothing would be left for anyone to find.

In moments, the squad was trooping out of there, timers set and mere moments away from detonation. By now, their infiltration should be known and the sooner they left, the less resistance they would face.

It didn't take long to reach the roof and from there rehook themselves to the cables and retract the lines back up into the aircraft. All in all, the operation took ten minutes to complete and they were back over the ocean when the first explosions tore out of the prison they were leaving. Only the newest wing, the one set up for Porter, was destroyed; the rest of Peña Duro would be left to fend for itself.

The mission was complete.

"Colonel, you have new orders."

The commando responded, "Sir."

"I need you to head over to Gotham City. This mess is far from being cleaned. You will await new orders once you arrive."

"Yes, Sir. Over and out."

There were a whole lot of words for being tired. Fatigued, exhausted, rundown—the list went on and on.

Zatanna was more than willing to say she felt all of them and then some.

At least, she had the day before. Having to dive headfirst into another dimension to magically battle an inter-dimensional demon and have it handedly end in a tie had wiped her out. Well, perhaps she had come out on top considering said demon wanted to keep her as a trophy and she was most definitely not that right now. A paralysis spell that was temporary at best for that kind of demon had allowed her to escape while sealing off the portal between that realm and hers.

Regardless, she hadn't felt like she had won.

It was the day after and her magical fatigue was starting to lift. Normally Zatanna would've taken the day off to recover more fully, but she wanted assurance the portal was sealed off and there wasn't going to be a repeat battle in the near-future. So she had come to the one place that could point her in the right direction.

Shoving open the door to Madam Xanadu's fortune teller pallor, the dark-haired woman strolled in. "Xanadu! Hello!" she called out with more enthusiasm than she actually felt. "Your favorite punching bag is here!"

Much to her surprise, Xanadu was not at her table. Strange, but not unprecedented. Zatanna had a knack for finding the fortune teller in less than flattering situations, something she had never let the madam live down and annoyed the older woman to no end. Xanadu, of course, managed to muster up some elegance to the entire situation, but it was just too much to not laugh at.

Seeing Xanadu washing her unmentionables was right at the top of the list.

Undaunted, Zatanna headed for a door at the back of the pallor. If her teacher wasn't at the front, she was most likely in the back somewhere. Maybe she was in her apartment on the second floor of the building. Reaching the door, she opened and strolled on through.

It seemed her guess was right on the money. In contrast to the mystical-looking setting of the pallor—one tailored to draw happy-go-lucky couples into the magic and mysticism of palm readings and fortune tellings—the back room was more in touch with the real world. It was a small room with a doorway leading to a staircase that led upstairs. For furnishings, there was a small table with a television best suited for the 70's on top of it. By that she meant it was small, had metal antenna ears sticking out of its top and should have shown black-and-white images. Zatanna highly suspected magic was at play for why it was showing colored stills.

There was a small stove in the corner, one that a kettle of tea was cooling on. A folding chair that was usually placed in front of the television was lying on its side on the floor, Xanadu standing fully erect as she stared at the screen.

Well, this was disappointing. Zatanna had been hoping to add another embarrassing moment to her collection. C'est la vie.

"Hey, Teach," the magician greeted, which caused Xanadu to jump in place, head snapping towards her. Zatanna couldn't help but note how odd that was. If anyone was the model of composure, it was Xanadu. This behavior was off—for her.

"When did you get here?" Xanadu asked, eyes boring right into her. O...kay, this was getting really strange.

"Just now," Zatanna answered, placing her hands on her hips as she gave her teacher a funny look. "Sorry if I didn't immediately come over after going to the other side, but I needed some me time."

"You shouldn't be here," the madam interjected then, which further caused the magician to frown. "You need to go home right now."

That was rude. "Who's magical tailcoat have you been yanking on this time?" Zatanna demanded, a scowl appearing on her face. "I swear, if Brother Night is involved, I will drag your ass out onto the street and spank you in front of everyone."

For just a moment, Xanadu's eyes darted to the television, just before she realized just what the magician had said. "You will not sully my reputation with a child's punishment," she shot back heatedly.

There, that was the pride of Madam Xanadu. However, her hesitation had given her away. There was something on the TV she didn't want the younger woman to see and that was all she needed to know. "I will if you've been making deal with a soul-stealing…"

Zatanna trailed off, mostly because she had taken the opportunity to look at the fortune teller's television. On it was a news station with Jack Ryder on screen, a news anchor for Gotham's top news program. That was hardly out of the ordinary since Ryder was broadcasted up and down the East Coast.

The banner at the bottom of the screen, however…

In bold letters, the banner proclaimed "BATMAN GONE?" That was the first thing to get her attention. The second was Ryder's words, ones that finally reached her ears and her brain began to make sense of.

"It has nearly been two weeks since the criminal known as Bane rocked the city with his proclamation. Ever since, crime has skyrocketed throughout Gotham to heights unseen since the Depression nearly a decade previous. The Batman has been noticeably missing since this time—"

At this, Ryder's image was replaced with that of a beefcake of a man. Jesus, he's huge! Zatanna immediately thought. She was unsure of who the guy was, but he must've been a giant, what with all of those muscles. His face was hidden by a mask, but that became completely irrelevant.

The man had his arms over his head, holding what looked like another person all dressed in black. Zatanna felt her heart sink in her chest as she stared, completely fixated on the screen.

Bruce…

Something had gone down in Gotham while she had been in a different reality altogether. Something that had taken him off the streets according to the newscaster.

Immediately, Zatanna was marching back into the front pallor, ignoring everything around her. "Zatanna! Wait!" Xanadu cried after her. "You mustn't—"

"Ot eht evactab," the dark-haired woman spoke and a cloud of smoke enveloped her, the sight of Xanadu's room vanishing from before her eyes. Without breaking stride, she continued to walk, emerging out from the smoke and entering the Batcave.

The lights were on, something she took as a good sign. She was at the bottom of the stairs that led up to Wayne Manor, which was nearly perfect placement for her. Snapping her head to her right, she saw the platform that held the Med Bay, its metal staircase leading right up to it. Picking up her pace, she nearly ran for the stairs, climbing up them as fast as she could.

What? Zatanna froze the moment she reached the platform. Before her was the Med Bay, but it was clearly empty. In fact, it didn't even look used at all. The metal table that was used for medical care was bare, gleaming in the light streaming down on it. There was a table next to it, a stool situated in front of it, and some sort of medical supplies resting on top of the table. It looked as if it had been used, but there was no telling when.

What was going on here? If Bruce had been hurt—and that news broadcast had made that readily apparent—this was the most likely place he would've gone. It was safe, protected, and no one knew where it was.

So why wasn't he here?

"Bruce?" she called out, hearing her voice echo throughout the cave. The bats above her stirred at her hail, causing them to chirp and squirm on the ceiling.

"Bruce," she tried again, eyes searching the cave now, first slowly so that she checked everything, but steadily becoming more frantic. Alright, this was all wrong. He should be here. No way would he go up to the manor to convalesce without having some way to access the medical supplies down here. He didn't trust just anyone, so he wouldn't have someone being his hands and legs, not to mention the suddenness of his encounter with Bane, whoever that was. It was just too close of a time frame for Batman and Bruce Wayne to be hurt.

The imagine flashed before her eyes again, that muscle-bound jerk holding what looked like a limp Bruce over his head. What had happened exactly? What had led up to this strange turn of events?

She needed answers now.

Zatanna closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath and holding it. She was letting her emotions get the best of her. Right now, she needed to calm down and think her next move through. Releasing her breath, she opened her eyes. Right now, answers weren't forthcoming and running around after some was a waste of time and effort. She needed to do an investigation and she needed to do it smartly.

And as it turned out, she had just the spell to do that. The longer she had been practicing magic, the more she found certain spells came more natural to her. As it turned out, she could enter another person's memory and search through it like a book, or perhaps a computer with the ctrl-f function. It had done her wonders before.

However, there was a small problem in that there wasn't someone around that she could just look into their memory and find out all the answers. While that was the most direct way to learn about Bruce, there were indirect ways to do the same thing. In this case, or so she was thinking, she just needed to search the memory of the cave.

Gathering her magical energies, she fed them into her spell, one that was conjuring within her mind. "Wohs em," she spoke, her voice coming out deeper than usual.

The world around her suddenly became blurry as a transparent aura enveloped her. Then the aura spread out in all directions, becoming more like a distorted wave even as the cave took on a muted tone. Brown was the dominant color, the usual darkness becoming less so. The wave continued to spread out until it came into contact with the cave walls, vanishing from sight.

Very little had changed, though Zatanna figured that was just because of the direction she was looking. Turning around, she regarded the Med Bay, and much to her surprise, she found someone sitting at the table by the bed.

Most astonishing was that it wasn't Bruce. No, this person was smaller, thinner, and if she wasn't mistaken, looked like a girl. The mask was different too, covering their face completely, with black lens where the eye should be. There was a yellow outline of the Bat Symbol on their chest too.

Alright, she may have been gone from Gotham for a long while, but what the hell was this? There was a second person wearing the Bat Symbol? Since when? And why a girl? Staring, Zatanna soon realized this Bat-girl-person was doing something with the equipment on the table. She was pushing a button, which caused the device she was playing with to make a whirring sound.

Suddenly, an alarm blasted throughout the cave, muted, but loud enough to cause both Zatanna and the girl to look in the direction of the main computer. Even from where she stood, she could see a dull red light flashing from the main screen.

Her eyes hardening, focusing, the area around the computer seemed to draw closer to Zatanna without her even taking a step. In the span of a moment, she was now standing right next to the chair in front of the Bat-computer, the Med Bay a distant memory.

And there was Bruce in the chair, his mask off, though he was in the rest of his Batman regalia. Zatanna took one look at him and gasped. His face...he looked awful. Like he was sick, or not getting enough sleep, or...or...just bad to be frank.

In spite of this, he was looking right at the computer. Managing to tear her eyes away from the man, Zatanna caught sight of multiple windows popping up all over the screen. They didn't make sense to her until she realized they were CCTV footage of areas throughout Gotham. What they were showing was what looked like trees and plants and who knows what ripping up and tearing apart the city. Hell, one of the bridges had a tree rip right through it.

Alright, she was at a loss. She had seen all kinds of crazy shit in Gotham, be it in person, or on the news. This...Nature Gone Wild thing was a whole new level of crazy.

Suddenly, the cave began to shake, the bats overhead going into a tizzy as they suddenly began shrieking and even taking off flying from the roof and heading through the multitude of passages to leave. Bruce grabbed onto the arms of his chair tightly, riding out the tremor. Once it stopped though, he seemed to be glaring at the screen.

Zatanna broke her focus then, ending her spell. The muted, dull colors started to become a more vibrant tone of darkness, Bruce vanishing from his position at the computer. In fact, Zatanna was back in the Med Bay, standing by the staircase as she looked over the Batcave.

It didn't take a genius to know that Bruce had gone out into Gotham. He had gone out there, not really fit to do so, and had run into Bane.

However, he hadn't come back. Her spell to look into the cave's memory had been designed so that she could experience the last memory experienced here and what she had seen was clearly the beginning of something.

Why hadn't he come back?

And, more importantly, where was he now?

The sensation to sneeze suddenly pulled Zatanna out of her daydream, the dark-haired woman stifling it as best as she could. Why she was thinking of something that had happened months ago?

There were more important things to worry about. One thing, for instance, was Bruce...Batman standing at the edge of a skyscraper. There was a gargoyle at the corner, one that was long and stretched out from the building, which the dark-clad man stood on, looking over the gloomy city.

He had been standing there for awhile now. Zatanna was a decent distance away, watching him, waiting to see what he would do. She had followed him here, though he hadn't really told her to back off at all. After everything he had gone through to get to this point, she had to admit she was worried.

There was something different about him. While she was convinced a lot of that had to do with the beating Bane had given him, there was something in the back of her head that told her that there was something else. In times long gone, he would've told her to back off, or given her something to do that would allow him to be off by himself. Now though, it was as if he didn't mind, or didn't care that she was with him.

Hmm, considering that little, yet very important, piece of info, she was a little more certain that there was something else on his mind.

They had been standing here for awhile, long enough for a cool breeze the blow by and send a shiver through Zatanna. It was times like this she wondered why she hadn't designed a new costume for her superheroine escapades. Fishnet stockings did nothing against changes in temperature.

Suddenly, Batman backed off the gargoyle, turning around to face her when he was back on the roof. Zatanna hid a frown at this.

There was some uncertainty in his movements, which was what was catching her attention. She had known the man for a long time now and he had always been so sure of himself, even when his world was crashing down around him.

"Still here," the vigilante stated. It was more like a remark actually and he was clearly addressing her.

"You act as if I'd leave," the dark-haired woman replied, crossing her arms over her chest as she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Thought you would lose interest," he grunted as he approached her, coming to stand before her.

"With you? Never."

There was a twitch with the corner of his mouth, an aborted smile no doubt. It was nice to know she could still find his more human side beneath all that armor and gruffness. That was something that hadn't changed at least.

"Let's go," he said then, turning to walk in a different direction.

"You're not going to jump off that gargoyle?" she asked him, not bothering to hide her surprise. "You usually just did that instead of tell me."

Batman paused, stopping mid-step. "Now...isn't the time," he said after awhile, not even looking at her. "There's a lot to do and I need your help to do it."

Alright, her concern was coming right back. Zatanna wasn't sure what was going on inside the man's head, but him backing off throwing himself off a roof was unheard of. Then to say he needed her help, why, there must have been a planetary alignment going on.

The magician glanced up into the sky to make sure that wasn't the exact reason. Nope, no alignment that she could see.

So she decided to see what he had in mind for her. "Alright, where do we start first?"

While not ideal, the motel that the Gordons had to take shelter in was better than nothing. They only had the clothes they were wearing and a half-paid off credit card between the two of them.

Had they known that the National Guard had been planning to blow all the bridges in Gotham, they might have packed for the occasion.

Gordon had to remind himself that this was all moving pretty quickly. It didn't change the fact that not only was he on the wrong side of the river where all the action was happening, but most of the other officers, the ones patrolling in this part of the city, were all the ones he had direct contact to. The majority were still on the island and, according to Sawyer, Petit was the one rallying spirits and bringing them together.

Worst of all, Barbara, his paralyzed daughter, was trapped on that island too. He wanted nothing more that swim over there, or somehow get across the river and make sure that she was alright. Unless law enforcement was able to hold the peace, once people over there figured out they were trapped, it was going to be chaos over there.

Everything was spinning out of control.

Normally, he would be in his office, sitting at his desk, elbows propped on the flat surface with hands on his head. This time, he was sitting on a cheap mattress with his elbows on his knees. The only benefit was that Sarah was right next to him, shoulder against his and sharing in the silence.

This was something that wouldn't go over well back at the precinct.

How had everything come to this? It all ran together, starting back with the attack on Blackgate to the fall of Batman, and then Bane's unending assault on Gotham. General Eiling and the National Guard wasn't making the situation any better. Who had ordered this? Who thought that this was a good idea in the first place?

The Guard was suppose to be here to fill in the lagging manpower of the GCPD, nothing else. They were going to finally have the strength needed to bring Bane down once and for all, right when they needed it the most.

"I keep going over it in my head, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what the hell is happening," he said finally. "What am I missing? What have I been missing that's been in front of me this whole time?"

"Maybe it isn't something in front of us, but hiding behind our backs," Sarah suggested, giving in and letting her head rest against his shoulder. In response, the Commissioner raised a hand and held it to the side of her head. Her hand placed itself over his immediately. "Nothing about this has been clear cut, not for the last few months. There've been these twists that seem to come out of nowhere, and that's on top of us taking curve balls every other day."

"We haven't been at the top of our game," Gordon agreed, refraining from nodding his head. Instead, he leaned it against the top of Sarah's. "I know I've been desperate to try and turn things around, to not let the past repeat itself. Why does it feel like that I've only made things worse?"

"You did what you felt like you needed to do. We all did." Pulling away, Sarah placed her hands on either side of his face and turned his head so that he was looking her in the eyes. "We did the best we could under the circumstances."

"If this is our best, the city deserves a refund," Gordon found himself retorting. To his surprise, Sarah took no offense to his words, cracking a smile while her shoulders shook for a second.

"Maybe, but you didn't blow up several bridges as a means to fix everything. Somehow, despite everything, you, we, managed to hold this city together for as long as we could. This can't be how it ends," Sarah continued.

Well, when put that way, it seemed like he had set the bar too high for Eiling. "What else can we do? The Guard's taking over now and, for all intents and purposes, we're pushed to a side."

"If the Guard was in charge, why blow up the bridges and trap millions of people with Bane? It makes no sense and it sounds like someone wanting to go for an extreme solution rather than a practical one. We can't let them get away with this," she told him.

"And do what? You can bet both of us will get reamed if we make such a fuss. There's going to be people mocking us, thinking we got out not because of chance, but because we're cowards."

"And none of them were over there. Or here, fighting Bane for every city block. You're not telling me that the man I know is going to be worried about what a few media heads think about him after all this time?"

"This isn't normal and I'm out of my depth right now," he answered frankly. "Even after the Gotham Fire...it wasn't ever this bad."

"But we'll find our way through it, just like we always do," Sarah said gently. "Every time it seemed like the odds were against us, somehow, we manage to get Gotham through it and we all the better for it. This time will be no different. We can't let it, otherwise Bane wins."

"How can you be so sure?" he asked, almost desperate to hear what she would say.

"I can't. I just have faith, both in you and myself." Not exactly what he wanted to hear but it would have to do, They were both out of their depth, and it was obvious that she was also trying to convince herself. A generic answer would have to do until something shifted and changed the balance.

Taking her hands and pulling them from his face, he said, "I'm going outside for some air. I'll be back later."

"You mean, we'll be back. Now's not the time to be splitting up—unless you have something you want me to do," Sarah denied, though her words were more coy at the end.

Shaking his head, Gordon replied, "Sometimes I don't know what I would do without you."