Reincarnation In Smallville

Alley Behind the Museum

"You're late, bat."

The voice cut through the silence like a dirty razor.

Bruce stopped a few meters away. The mask hid his expression, but inside, a thought moved with the weight of a silent siren.

'How does he know I'd come?'

The new armor still smelled of fresh metal and graphene. The visor auto-adjusted, zooming in on the figure ahead.

Red hood. Smooth mask. Upright posture. Nothing trembled in him. Nothing hesitated.

'He's waiting for me.'

"You knew I'd come."

"I was counting on it."

The voice had something. Not irony. Not sarcasm. Too calm.

Bruce took another step. His boots crunched glass and shattered equipment on the ground. Bruno and Jax lay unconscious near the van. One of them still groaned softly.

"You set this up."

"Of course I did. You think someone breaks into a Gotham museum for gold?"

The Red Hood's right hand spun the baton with absurd precision. The metallic sound sliced the air with a hissing whine.

"All this… just to meet me?"

"Of course not."

A sharp snap.

The baton stopped, pointing at Bruno.

"It was for me."

Bruce stepped forward, but he wasn't fast enough.

CRACK.

The baton came down like a verdict. Bruno's head snapped to the side. The sound of breaking bones was muffled by a heavy gasp of air.

The body slumped.

Silence.

Jax stirred half a second later, eyes wide.

"Boss?!"

BLAM!

The Red Hood drew his pistol with a clean motion. A single shot.

Jax's forehead exploded like a red dot in the black-and-white world of the early morning.

The body fell to its knees. Then, dead.

Bruce didn't move.

He just watched.

'He killed his own men. Without hesitation.'

"Now… just the two of us."

The Red Hood spun the baton again and holstered it on his back. He raised his fists.

"I want to see what that cape of yours is worth."

Bruce advanced. No words.

The cape flowed like a living shadow behind him.

THWACK!

His left fist struck the Red Hood's jaw. The head turned, but the body held firm. Barely flinched.

Bruce spun. Roundhouse kick.

WHUMP!

The Red Hood dodged with a twist of his torso, blocking with his forearm. He countered.

THACK!

The right fist slammed into Bruce's chest with force.

The impact reverberated through the suit.

Pressure: 280 psi.

'Above normal.'

The Red Hood grabbed Bruce's cape. Spun his body in the air. Threw him into the van.

CRASH!

The metal crumpled on impact. Bruce fell to the side, rolling over broken glass. The suit absorbed some of it. But not enough.

'He's too strong… too fast…'

The Red Hood charged.

THUM-THUM-THUM.

Feet pounding the concrete like hammers.

Bruce leapt. Dodged by inches. The Red Hood's leg swept past, cutting the air.

The punch came next.

BAM!

It hit his shoulder. Bruce spun, the cape floating in the air.

He twisted his torso. Counterattack.

A direct punch to the stomach.

POW!

The Red Hood coughed.

But didn't back down.

Instead…

HE SMILED.

Bruce froze for half a second.

'He's enjoying this.'

"More than I imagined…"

The Red Hood's fist broke through Bruce's guard like a knife through wet cloth.

CRACK!

The sound of a bone dislocating. Fractured rib.

Bruce fell to his knees.

The Red Hood's hand grabbed the back of his neck.

Pushed.

BAM!

Bruce's head was slammed into the ground.

The world spun. Sound vanished for a second.

(…)

(…)

(…)

But his body reacted.

Bruce twisted his hip. His leg swept the ground.

THUD!

The Red Hood fell to the side.

Bruce staggered back to his feet. His knees trembled. The pain in his chest radiated. His breathing was short.

But his gaze… it was still there.

'I won't fall.'

The Red Hood rose with a smooth spin.

He cracked his knuckles.

"You're new at this, aren't you?"

"First time in this suit. But I know enough to break you."

"Hm. Good lie. But…"

One step.

Another.

The baton spun again.

"You're the Batman, aren't you?"

"I am."

"Alright then. Time to see if that name means anything."

The Red Hood lunged.

Bruce raised his arms.

ELBOW STRIKE.

LOW KICK.

MULTIPLE PUNCHES.

Each blow was heavier than the last.

THACK! CRACK! BAM! THUD!

Bruce fought back.

Side elbows.

Knees.

Counterattacks.

But it was like fighting a reflection that already knew his moves.

'He studied…'

'Studied the Batman… before it was even born.'

The baton came again.

WHAAM!

It struck the side of his helmet.

The visor cracked.

His vision blurred. Blood trickled down the side of his head.

Bruce fell again. The cape soaked in sweat and dirt. His knees hit the ground.

The Red Hood approached slowly.

Stopped in front of him.

Silence.

Nothing but Bruce's heavy breathing and the low hum of his gear struggling to function.

"You getting up?"

Bruce raised his eyes.

Didn't answer.

"You don't need to. I already know the answer."

The Red Hood knelt in front of him.

Grabbed Bruce's mask by the front.

But stopped.

He stared. As if trying to see through it.

"It's not the face that matters. It's the symbol."

He closed his fist.

And… didn't strike.

He stood again. Calm steps.

"Not today, bat. Today was just the warning."

Bruce leaned against the alley wall, trying to stand.

The Red Hood was already walking away. The museum's flickering lights glowed behind him. The jade statue still in his pocket.

"Next time, come prepared."

He glanced over his shoulder.

"Or come to die."

A sharp snap.

Smoke bomb.

The cloud engulfed the alley. The smell of sulfur and gunpowder flooded everything. His body vanished with the shadow.

Bruce tried to stand.

Managed.

Barely.

His whole body trembled.

His hand slipped in blood and sweat.

'First mission. First failure.'

But his eyes didn't dim.

There was still fire there.

As the Batmobile approached, guided by remote control, Bruce held one thought firm.

'He could've finished it.'

His fist clenched, feeling the fracture snap in the bone. The pain was hot. Present. Real.

'But he didn't want to.'

'Those moves…'

The memory came in flashes—the spinning kick, the punches landing precisely between ribs, the sequence of elbow and sweep.

'He learned at the same school as me.'

Bruce braced his hand against the alley wall. Pulled himself up.

'The League of Assassins.'

'That bastard is from the League.'

The early morning wind blew hard. It carried the smell of the open van, the blood of the dead henchmen. But what Bruce felt… was something else.

A void.

The kind of void that comes only when you lose without understanding.

He climbed into the Batmobile.

The cockpit sealed shut.

The HUD blinked red. The cracked visor. The damaged armor.

But his heart… still beat like a war drum.

Inside, he knew.

'This wasn't just an attack.'

'It was revenge.'

---

Batcave – Hours Later

Alfred applied the biological sealant with precision. The substance steamed as it met broken skin.

"This will sting."

"It already does."

The words came out low, strained, but firm.

Bruce's face was still half-covered by the cracked, warped visor. The skin around his eyes was starting to bruise. A deep cut ran across his brow.

Alfred didn't stop.

"He knew where to hit. Avoided lethal points but didn't spare the pain."

"League style."

Alfred froze for a second.

"The League of Assassins?"

Bruce nodded slightly, eyes fixed on the wall of monitors where the Red Hood's figure was frozen in the exact frame of their clash.

"The attack sequence. The angles. The breathing. He uses Ra's al Ghul's pattern… but modernized. Adapted to urban environments."

Alfred wiped his hand, but the tension in his eyes betrayed his thoughts.

"You think Ra's is behind this?"

"No. This is someone younger. More… free."

"You know the moves, yet still…"

"He outmatched me."

The words hurt more than the fracture.

"But he let you live."

Bruce shifted his gaze to the monitor.

"Because he wanted to."

Alfred sat beside him.

"And what do you plan to do now?"

Bruce inhaled deeply. The sound of his injured lung was like an angry whisper.

"Find out who he is."

"You think it's someone who trained with you?"

"Or studied me. Intensely. And that… is more frightening."

Alfred placed a cup of tea on the table.

"He's clearing the city. One piece at a time."

Bruce nodded slowly.

"He's not stealing. He's claiming territory."

"Like an animal."

"No. Like a king."

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