“Good thing we didn’t take the tram,” Cindy said, gncing at Su Ming as she brushed her wet, golden hair away from her forehead. She turned her attention to the dashboard. “At this speed, we’ll probably reach our destination in about half an hour.”

  Su Ming watched the rain pour down outside. On the elevated highway not far ahead, a tram had come to a halt, its power cut off due to a city-wide electricity failure. He couldn’t tell if there were people inside, or if anyone was waiting for them to get home.

  If things went south, those people might never make it home.

  Su Ming had thought about situations like this before. Others had homes to go back to. He, on the other hand, only had a rented apartment. He always felt like he was alone in the world.

  “If I get the chance, once I’m done here, I’ll leave. I’ll try to get to Earth-0. What about you?”

  He asked Cindy this out of nowhere, making sure the nosy reporter didn’t hear, and he stopped looking at the stalled tram.

  Cindy thought for a moment before shaking her head. “This is my world. Earth-0—are you saying that’s home?”

  “No, it’s not. My real home is farther away… Earth-0 is just a pce I’m familiar with.” He fumbled through his cigarette pack; there were only a few left.

  “Where’s your home, then?”

  Cindy’s face softened slightly, and she pulled over to the side of the road, stopping in front of a small convenience store.

  Both of them got out of the car. Cindy quickly knocked the door lock off with her long stick, and they stepped inside, rummaging through shelves as they continued their conversation.

  “Who knows? Maybe it has a number. Maybe it doesn’t.”

  She shoved a few brightly colored bottles of alcoholic drinks into her backpack and gnced at the snack aisle. As she sifted through the bags of puffed snacks, she casually added, “Why not stay here? We could be partners for the long haul.”

  “You’re from Earth-11 in the Dark Multiverse. Barbatos can’t be beaten there—he’s the god of that world. If I want to stop this crisis completely, I can’t just hide it from them here. I’ll have to go to Earth-0. That’s my only way out.”

  Su Ming couldn’t hold it back anymore. He had been carrying these thoughts and emotions for too long, and he needed someone to share it with, even if it wasn’t for any real help. He just needed someone to listen to what he knew.

  Cindy paused in mid-motion, her hand frozen in the air, then she casually cradled a packet of tomato-fvored puffed snacks against her chest.

  “Really? Sounds like you’ve got a lot to expin to me…”

  Commissioner Gordon slowly regained consciousness in a dark room. He rubbed the back of his head, trying to piece together the events.

  He remembered being dragged into a car. But before that, when he had colpsed into the mud, he had carved the license pte of a bck van into his gsses.

  He had wedged them into a crack in the curb. If anyone found them, they might be able to track his location. But that hope was slim. After all, Batman had already left the city. Who else could track him now?

  He had faith in some of the younger officers at GCPD, but it was just faith. He knew that even if they found his gsses, they might not be able to figure out where he was.

  After all, he had no idea where he was now. The bck-cd men had knocked him out as soon as they got him into the vehicle.

  He opened his eyes and gnced around. The room was pitch bck, but it didn’t feel like a prison cell. In fact, the bed under him was surprisingly soft. The feel of silk against his fingers was disorienting.

  This did not make him feel at ease. As an experienced detective, Gordon could sense the damp, eerie atmosphere around him. He was probably underground.

  He checked his watch. He had only been unconscious for a little over an hour. That wasn’t long enough for the van to have left Gotham, so he was still in the city.

  Slowly, he got up. Everything was still on him, except for his gun. Even his handcuffs were still attached to his waist.

  It was like he’d been invited as a guest, though the method of invitation had been a little... forceful.

  He fumbled in the dark until he found the bedside mp. A soft light filled the small room, revealing a gss of water and a bottle of aspirin on the nightstand. A prescription bel with his name was attached to the bottle.

  They ransacked my home! They broke into my house!

  “Barbara!” Gordon suddenly remembered what the woman in bck had said. She had mentioned another team had gone to GCPD.

  He quickly stood up, leaving the pills behind, and rushed to the door.

  He turned the handle, and to his surprise, it opened with a simple twist.

  Of course, outside, there were still a few women in bck standing guard.

  “Where is my daughter? Let me see her!”

  Gordon snapped, grabbing one of the women by the door, but more hands quickly pulled him away.

  “Commissioner, our boss is waiting for you.”

  The woman who had punched him earlier appeared from around the corner. She walked toward him with measured steps, her expression cold, as she addressed him with a forced smile.

  Gordon realized they were in a long, sterile hallway, lit by harsh white lights. The walls were tiled, like some kind of hospital.

  “Where’s my daughter?” Gordon demanded again.

  The woman rubbed her temples, looking as if she had a headache. With a sigh, she replied, “You’ll find out when you meet our boss.”

  Gordon jerked his arm free and straightened his coat, patting it down as if to rid it of the imaginary dirt these people had somehow soiled it with.

  “Well, what are we waiting for? Lead the way.”

  She didn’t respond, simply turning and walking back the way they had come.

  Gordon cautiously scanned his surroundings. There was nothing to give him any clues—only the nagging certainty that he was deep underground.

  The hallway stretched on, a blinding white blur, with doors on either side. He had no idea what was behind them.

  After a few twists and turns, Gordon felt completely disoriented. Finally, they stopped in front of a rge wooden door, decorated with golden trim and enamel. The carvings on it were intricate, depicting the three Fates in vivid detail.

  The woman knocked and stepped back, raising an eyebrow at Gordon and gesturing for him to enter.

  He stepped forward without hesitation.

  Inside, the room was nothing like he’d imagined. It felt like a grand study in Wayne Manor, with towering bookshelves full of tomes. A fire roared in the nearby firepce, casting a warm glow. Portraits of a family lined the walls, and soft wool carpets covered the floor. Expensive hand-crafted furniture surrounded the room, and even the teapot on the coffee table smelled of the finest tea.

  For a moment, Gordon doubted himself. This wasn’t some underground ir—it felt like a mansion, a pce belonging to a powerful family.

  Until he saw the massive desk by the fire. Behind it sat someone he hadn’t expected to see.

  Even sitting alone, the figure maintained perfect posture. His meticulously styled hair had turned entirely gray at the temples, and the wrinkles on his face and hands were unmistakable. But the one thing that hadn’t changed was his eyes—still calm, still commanding.

  “Gordon, my old friend,” the man said, smiling. “Welcome to my family.”

  “Falcone...” Gordon gasped, stunned, as the name tumbled from his lips.

  That name had haunted him for years. In his first decade of service, Falcone had been the shadow looming over Gotham. Everything in this city—bars, restaurants, gas stations, even hotdog stands—was linked to him.

  He was the godfather, the mastermind of Gotham's criminal underworld.