Beyond the Limit (DC)

Feeling more than a little panic, Joseph realized that he didn't have time to yank off the vests before one of them had the chance to detonate. Instead, with a flurry of fists, he struck out.

While one of the bank robbers was recovering from getting slammed with the door, Joseph drove a fist into the jaw of the nearest one. The man's head snapped to the side, his body crumpling like a marionette with its strings cut.

//Warning: Guns are pointed at your back.//

Joseph immediately jumped upwards, sticking to a wall. As the bank robbers aimed their weapons up, he pushed off the surface with explosive force, crashing into them like a human wrecking ball. One went down hard, his gun skittering away.

He was too late to disarm all of them, though. A loud gunshot rang out, and Joseph barely twisted in time—the bullet grazed his shoulder. He wasn't about to let them land another hit.

With a sharp breath, Joseph launched into action, taking out the remaining three in rapid succession. A brutal uppercut, a precise elbow, a sweeping kick—they went down fast, groaning in pain.

Now that the alley was filled with sprawled-out bodies, Joseph finally took a breath. He turned his attention to the suicide vests. These were different from the ones the hostages had worn earlier.

More complex. Wires tangled around the deadlocks in a chaotic mess, linked to the bomb by a single, delicate, stripped wire.

If that wire had slipped out during the fight... He would've had to activate Speed State just to make it out alive.

Shoving the thought aside, Joseph grabbed the nearest conscious thug—the one he had knocked out with the door—and hoisted him up effortlessly.

The man looked dazed for a second, but his expression quickly hardened. He swung at Joseph, but Joseph caught his fist without even looking.

"Yeah, let's not do that," Joseph said, his grip tightening slightly. The fight drained out of the guy in an instant.

Joseph applied some more pressure. "Start talking."

The man gulped. "That psycho Joker strapped them on us! Told us to rob the bank, or else—" He snapped his mouth shut abruptly, looking like he regretted speaking.

Joseph clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "You can't just cut off the story like that. You better start speaking and fast." He gave the man a little shake—enough to remind him who was in control. And to make him nervous about the bomb strapped to him.

"Alright! Alright! He told us to meet at the docks in the Bowery! That's where we were supposed to drop the money! I swear, that's all I know!" The thug blurted, struggling in Joseph's grip.

Joseph's eyes narrowed behind his black swimming goggles. "Docks, huh? And how many of you are there?"

"L-like fifteen of us! He said we had to do it or he'd kill us!" The man stammered. "But I swear, we're just regular guys—"

Joseph's gaze flicked toward the open bank vault. Everything about this heist had been precise. Clean. These guys weren't civilians caught in a bad situation. They had experience.

"How many teams? Which banks?" Joseph pressed, his voice low.

The thug whimpered. Joseph gave him another little shake. "Spill before I start thinking you want to blow up."

"Three teams of five, including us! I don't know which banks, just that it's downtown! We were told to rob this one! And—and—we were supposed to bring the cash to the docks at the Bowery! That's all I know, I swear!" the thug practically sobbed.

Joseph's mind raced. He had no police scanner at the moment. No fast transportation. He needed backup to stop the other teams.

"Alright, you've been super helpful," Joseph said casually. Then, with a swift movement, he knocked the guy out and carefully laid him down so the vest wouldn't trigger.

He was about to leap onto the fire escape when a gravelly voice stopped him.

"Hold it."

Joseph stiffened for a second before glancing over his shoulder. Commissioner Gordon had stepped into the alley, flanked by two officers.

"Who the hell are you?" Gordon asked, his gaze sharp.

Joseph exhaled. He really didn't have time for this.

"Name's Flux. No time for chitchat. Two other banks got hit. If you can, pass the message to Batman—these guys are heading for the docks at the Bowery. I gotta move." And with that, he launched himself onto the fire escape and disappeared.

**

James Gordon pulled a cigarette from his pack, lighting it with his old, worn-out lighter. He took a deep drag, letting the smoke curl in his lungs before exhaling in a slow, thoughtful sigh.

"Another one," he muttered to himself.

It said a lot that the kid hadn't stuck around for news cameras. It said even more that, with power like that, the first thing he did was help people—rather than becoming another villain in a city drowning in them.

"You heard him," Gordon barked at the officers. "This is gonna be a long night. I want addresses for every bank in the area—now! And get these guys in cuffs."

As his officers scrambled, Gordon climbed into his car. He had a long night ahead. But as he drove off, he found himself wondering if Batman already knew about this new player in Gotham.

**

Joseph arrived on top of a building near Gotham Merchant's Bank and let out a relieved breath. Down below, Robin and the police had already secured the situation. That left one last bank.

Just as he turned to leave, he caught movement in the corner of his eye.

Batman emerged from the shadows.

"Flux."

Joseph tensed, feeling suddenly like a kid caught sneaking out past curfew. 

"I'm assuming you already took care of the other bank. One of the men said they were heading for the docks in the Browery. That's all I know." He quickly relayed the intel he had gotten from the thugs, then took a step back.

Batman didn't say a word. He just stared at him.

Joseph shuffled on his feet before muttering, "Uh—yeah, I gotta go."

Before Batman could say anything, he bolted, disappearing across the rooftops.

As he moved, he could've sworn he heard a low, gravelly murmur behind him.

"Good work."

…Nah. Probably just his imagination.