Chapter 6: Movement
Gotham's morning rush hour is in full swing as I make my way toward GSI.
The streets are filled with hurried commuters, many clutching coffee cups like lifelines against the city's perpetual gloom.
I blend into the crowd easily enough, though I catch occasional curious glances from passersby.
The walk gives me time to process the morning's conversation with Azula, Light, and Aizen. Light's frustration with his world's justice system particularly resonates with me.
In a city like Gotham, where costumed criminals routinely escape to terrorize the population again, how does justice truly function?
Hours pass at GSI as I lose myself in equations and simulations. Around midday, Dr. Chen calls me over to her workstation.
"Your modifications to the phase variance algorithm produced interesting results," she says, displaying a complex waveform on her screen.
"Look at this pattern here - the quantum resonance is stabilizing at precisely the frequency you predicted."
I examine the data with growing excitement. "The interdimensional membrane is actually thinning at that frequency. If we could generate enough power to sustain the resonance..."
"We might create a stable viewing portal," she finishes. "Not physical transportation yet, but visual confirmation of parallel dimensional spaces."
"How soon could we test it?" I ask, trying not to sound too eager.
She considers this. "The power requirements are substantial. We'd need approval from the board for that kind of energy usage. But I think we could have a small-scale test ready within a week."
A week. That's faster progress than I expected. If GSI can create even a viewing portal between dimensions, it could provide crucial insights into my situation.
"I'll prepare a formal proposal," Dr. Chen continues. "Your input has been invaluable, Samael. For someone your age, your grasp of quantum mechanics is... remarkable."
"Thank you," I say, wondering if the knowledge was somehow implanted along with my cover identity. "I find it intuitive."
As I return to my workstation, my tablet pings with a news alert. I open it to find breaking news about a robbery at the Gotham Museum of Natural History, just across from the GSI building.
According to the report, several artifacts were stolen overnight from the "Ancient Mysticism: Artifacts of Power" exhibition. Security guards were found unconscious but unharmed.
I glance out the window and see police cars forming a perimeter around the museum, their lights flashing silently in the midday sun. A crowd has gathered behind the police line.
"Interesting timing," Dr. Chen says, noticing my attention. "That's the third museum hit this month targeting mystical artifacts."
"Do they know who did it?" I ask.
She shrugs. "The usual suspects - Catwoman, Magpie, maybe one of the occult-focused criminals. Gotham has no shortage of those."
As the afternoon wears on, Dr. Chen announces she has a meeting with the board and leaves me to continue the simulations.
I focus on refining the models, occasionally glancing at the Ultimatrix on my wrist.
The connection between my interdimensional journey and the research I'm now conducting can't be coincidence.
Whatever force brought me here clearly wanted me working on this specific problem.
I'm so absorbed in my work that I don't notice the lab door opening until someone clears their throat behind me.
I turn to find a tall, distinguished-looking man in an expensive suit standing in the doorway.
Bruce Wayne.
My heart nearly stops. Batman himself, in his civilian identity, is standing less than ten feet away.
"Sorry to startle you," he says with the practiced charm of Gotham's most famous playboy. "I was looking for Dr. Chen."
"She's in a board meeting," I manage to reply, keeping my voice steady despite my internal panic. "Should be back in an hour or so."
He nods, then steps further into the lab, looking around with apparent casual interest that I suspect conceals razor-sharp observation. "You must be the prodigy I've heard about. The Wayne Foundation is always interested in exceptional young talent."
Of course. My internship is supposedly sponsored by the Wayne Foundation. This could be a routine check-in...
Or it could be Batman investigating an anomaly in his city- after all how many of his rogues gallery were into experimental things and became villains afterwards?
I can't even blame him, I would be paranoid too, especially if I was the one funding the project.
"Samael Morningstar," I say, standing to shake his hand. "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Wayne. I'm grateful for the opportunity your foundation has provided."
His handshake is firm, his smile practiced but I can see past the interested eccentric billionaire facade - purely because I know to look for past the mask to see the Bat.
"Call me Bruce. Dr. Chen speaks highly of your contributions to Project Nexus. Interdimensional research is a particular interest of mine."
I bet it is. Batman has encountered enough interdimensional threats to be deeply concerned about any research in that area.
"It's fascinating work," I reply carefully. "Though still highly theoretical at this stage."
"Theory often precedes breakthrough," he observes, moving to examine one of the simulation displays.
"I understand you're still in high school? That makes your theoretical work even more impressive."
"I've always had an aptitude for physics," I say with a modest shrug. "The Wayne Foundation internship has been an incredible opportunity to apply that knowledge."
He nods, studying the equations on the screen. "These models suggest you're approaching interdimensional theory from a novel angle. What inspired this particular approach?"
The question seems innocent, but I sense the strategic mind behind it. Is he probing for inconsistencies?
"I've been exploring the relationship between quantum entanglement and dimensional barriers," I explain, sticking close to the research I've been doing.
"Traditional approaches treat dimensions as separate entities, but I believe they're more like overlapping frequencies that can be tuned to resonate with each other."
"Fascinating," he says, and I can't tell if he's genuinely interested or simply maintaining his cover. "The practical applications could be revolutionary."
"Or dangerous in the wrong hands," I add, watching his reaction closely.
Something flickers in his eyes - approval, perhaps. "Precisely why the Wayne Foundation takes such an interest in this research.
Better to develop it responsibly than let it emerge elsewhere without oversight."
"Well, I won't keep you from your work," he says, moving toward the door. "Please tell Dr. Chen I stopped by. I'm interested in discussing the power requirements for your upcoming test."
"Of course," I say, relief washing over me as he prepares to leave.
At the door, he pauses. "By the way, I noticed the museum incident across the street. Given your interest in interdimensional theory, you might find it interesting that among the stolen items was a tablet supposedly containing instructions for crossing between planes of existence."
My relief evaporates instantly. That's not public information - it wasn't in any of the news reports I read.
Is he testing me, seeing if I react to information I shouldn't know? Does he think I'm the one who stole it?
Why? Or is it pure thoroughness at work?
"That's concerning," I say carefully. "Though I imagine most such artifacts are based more on superstition than science."
"Perhaps," he says with a slight smile. "Though in Gotham, the line between superstition and science often blurs. Good day, Samael."
With that cryptic remark, he leaves, the door closing softly behind him.
I collapse back into my chair, heart pounding. That wasn't just Bruce Wayne, philanthropist checking on his foundation's investment.
That was Batman, sizing up a potential threat or person of interest in his city.
The question is: did I pass his initial assessment, or am I now firmly on his radar?
I spend the rest of the afternoon trying to focus on work while processing the implications of this encounter.
Bruce Wayne - Batman himself - has taken a personal interest in both the dimensional research and the museum theft.
And he deliberately shared classified information to gauge my reaction.
As evening approaches, Dr. Chen returns from her meeting looking pleased. "Good news, Samael. The board has approved our test proposal. We can begin preparations tomorrow."
"That's great," I say, genuinely excited despite my concerns. "Did you happen to run into Bruce Wayne? He stopped by looking for you."
"Bruce was here?" She looks surprised. "No, I missed him. Did he say what he wanted?"
"Just that he was interested in discussing the power requirements for our test."
She nods thoughtfully. "He's more hands-on than most benefactors. I'll contact him tomorrow." She checks her watch.
"It's getting late. You should head home before dark. Gotham nights aren't safe, especially lately."
I take her advice, packing up my notes and heading out. The sun is already setting as I leave the building, casting long shadows across the university grounds.
Rather than taking my usual route home, I decide to detour through a more populated area, still unsettled by my encounter with Bruce Wayne.
As I pass a small park near the edge of the campus, I notice a group of students gathered around something - or someone - on a bench.
Drawing closer, I realize they're watching a street performer, a slim man with pale skin performing elaborate card tricks.
Something about him seems off - the too-wide smile, the unnaturally fluid movements of his hands. I slow my pace, watching more carefully.
The performer finishes a trick to applause, then looks up directly at me. Our eyes meet, and his smile widens impossibly.
"You there, young man!" he calls out. "Care to volunteer for my next illusion?"
The students turn to look at me, and I reluctantly step forward, not wanting to draw more attention by refusing.
"Perfect," the performer says, his voice carrying a hint of something familiar. "A special trick for a special volunteer."
He fans out a deck of cards and holds them toward me. "Pick a card, any card... but choose wisely. Your selection might reveal more than you expect."
As I reach for the deck, his sleeve pulls back slightly, revealing a glimpse of white skin with a faint green tinge. A chill runs down my spine as I realize who - or what - I'm dealing with.
The Joker. Or at least someone connected to him.
I select a card carefully, keeping my expression neutral despite my internal alarm. The performer takes the card without looking at it and hands me the deck.
"Now, shuffle these thoroughly," he instructs, "while I divine the nature of your selection."
As I shuffle, he studies me with unnerving intensity, head tilted at an odd angle. "Interesting... very interesting. You're not from around here, are you? New to Gotham?"
My hands falter slightly, but I continue shuffling. "Just moved to here recently."
"I can always tell the newcomers," he says with a knowing smile. "They haven't learned to be afraid yet. This city has a way of... changing people."
He snaps his fingers, and a card appears between them - the ace of spades. "Is this your card?"
It isn't - I selected the king of hearts - but I nod anyway, eager to end this interaction.
"No, it's not," he says with a giggle. "You're a terrible liar. But that's not important. The real trick is what I slipped into your pocket while you were distracted."
My hand instinctively goes to my jacket pocket, where I feel something that wasn't there before - a small, stiff rectangle.
"Don't look at it now," the performer warns, his voice dropping to a whisper only I can hear. "Wait until you're alone. It's an invitation... to a much more interesting performance."
He stands abruptly, bowing to the assembled students. "That's all for today, folks! Remember, in Gotham, nothing is ever quite what it seems!"
With a flourish, he throws something to the ground that erupts in a cloud of colored smoke. When it clears, he's gone, leaving only confused murmurs among the spectators.
I walk away quickly, resisting the urge to examine whatever he placed in my pocket. Only when I'm several blocks away, in a quiet alley, do I carefully extract the item - a playing card, the joker, naturally.
On the back is an address in the Narrows and a time: midnight tonight.
This can't be a coincidence. The Joker - or someone working for him - has singled me out. The same day I encountered Bruce Wayne. The same day a museum exhibition on mystical artifacts was robbed.
Too many coincidences. Something larger is happening, and I'm being drawn into it from multiple directions.
By the time I reach my apartment, I've made no decision. Mr. Finch is in the lobby, collecting his mail, and greets me warmly.
"Samael! How was your day at that fancy research facility?"
"Educational," I reply with a forced smile. "Lots of new developments."
He studies my face with surprising perceptiveness. "You look troubled, young man. Gotham getting to you already?"
"Just tired," I lie. "Big project coming up."
He nods, though his expression suggests he doesn't entirely believe me. "Well, my offer of dinner still stands whenever you need a break.
Sometimes a good meal and conversation can help put things in perspective."
"Thanks, Mr. Finch. I'll take you up on that soon."
In my apartment, I immediately check for signs of intrusion but find nothing obvious. I secure the door and windows, then sit at my desk.
The day's events have left me with too many questions and not enough answers.
I pull out my laptop and begin searching for information that might help me understand this world better.
Light's comments about justice - or the lack thereof - still linger in my mind. In a city where the Joker repeatedly escapes to kill again, how does the system justify itself?
I type: "Why doesn't Gotham execute the Joker?"
The search results are overwhelming - academic papers, legal analyses, heated forum debates, and countless news articles.
I click on a Reddit thread titled "The REAL Reason the Joker Keeps Getting Sent to Arkham Instead of Death Row."
The top comment offers a surprisingly nuanced legal explanation:
"Gotham is in New Jersey, which abolished the death penalty in 2007. But even before that, the Joker consistently meets the legal criteria for criminal insanity under the M'Naghten Rules.
Prosecutors can't get a death sentence when the defendant can't legally understand the nature of their crimes or that they're wrong."
A reply counters:
"That's the official explanation, but it's BS. The Joker shows clear premeditation and understanding of consequences.
The real reason is that Gotham's corrupt justice system is broken by design. Too many powerful people benefit from the chaos."
Another user adds:
"Don't forget the revolving door is profitable. Arkham receives massive funding, security companies get contracts, and politicians win elections promising to be 'tough on crime.'
The system isn't failing - it's working exactly as intended for those who profit from it."
I click through to a legal blog written by a Gotham District Attorney:
"The truth is more procedural than conspiratorial. The Joker's cases are consistently compromised by vigilante involvement.
Evidence becomes inadmissible, witness testimony is tainted, and chain of custody is broken.
Without properly collected evidence, prosecutors often can't build a solid case for first-degree murder."
This makes a disturbing amount of sense. Batman's methods, while effective at capturing criminals, often undermine the very legal system he's trying to support.
A final comment catches my eye:
"Nobody knows who Batman really is or what his actual moral code entails. The public only sees results - criminals delivered to GCPD, sometimes brutally beaten.
For all we know, he could be as psychologically damaged as the criminals he fights. The real question isn't why Gotham doesn't execute the Joker - it's why Batman doesn't.
He operates outside the law already, so what's stopping him? Whatever his reasons, they're as mysterious as the man himself."
I close the browser, troubled by the implications. In my previous world, I often debated the ethics of capital punishment abstractly.
Here, the question has immediate, tangible consequences measured in innocent lives.
I before these days always asked myself: If I were to gain significant power in this world, would I make the same choices as Batman?
Or would I take a more decisive approach to justice?
Recently though, since I have gained my power, Light Yagami's path suddenly seems more understandable, if no less dangerous.
The playing card seems to burn in my pocket. I take it out and study it more carefully. Under certain angles, I notice faint writing that becomes visible when held to the light - a riddle:
"What is all worlds but always moves different, opens all doors but holds no keys, and sees all but remains unseen?"
A test? A trap? Both, most likely.
As night falls over Gotham, I face a decision that could alter my entire trajectory in this world.
Do I follow this dangerous lead, or retreat to safety and risk missing crucial information about my situation?
Something tells me it has to do with that museum artifact. That I was targeted because of my part in Project Nexus. But if that is the case then why - what the hell has the Joker planned that he needs dimensional travel?
Whatever it is, it isn't good.
I look once more at the card and make my decision.
I am strong now. I can't just hide from the world forever. Whatever that clown plans can't be made to pass.
He can not be underestimated just because he's not some superpowered creature.
This is the man that broke the Man of Steel.
(At least a weaker iteration of him, but still)
As I see the clock approach midnight, I get up, put on my jacket and move towards the door.
I've made my decision.
The Joker dies,
Tonight.
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!
Yes, this may seem like quite the escalation from earlier chapters.
And I agree, but the Joker is quite... unpredictable in the normal sense.
Samael isn't gonna risk it, and he has quite the ways to end him without being noticed or found out.
Having some of the mightiest and smartest creatures in the Omniverse at your disposal makes that the case.
So yeah, I hope to see you all next chapter,
Bye!)