The Beast moved like a blur.
He surged forward like a cannonball of muscle and pure hatred, and before Martian Manhunter could fully process the intent, he was airborne, thrown with inhuman strength. Glass shattered. Wood exploded. Curtains whipped with the wind as J'onn crashed bodily through the massive bay window, sent hurtling into the night like a ragdoll.
Batman reacted instantly. Grapnel in hand. Batarang ready.
The Beast turned to him shoulders heaving, chest rising and falling with the rhythm of a beast in heat. He didn't roar. He didn't howl. He charged.
Batman barely had time to duck the first swing a swipe meant to take off his head, and rolled to the side, hurling three Batarangs into the air. They struck the Beast's chest and arm… and bounced off like pebbles against a statue.
The Beast lunged again.
Batman struck low, flipping under the charge and hitting him with an electrified baton to the ribs. The jolt sparked, muscles seized—and then the baton shattered. Just snapped in half against the Beast's sheer density.
The response was brutal. The Beast grabbed Batman by the cape and slammed him into the floor with a sickening crunch, once. twice, before hurling him against the far wall. The impact left a spiderweb of cracks in the plaster.
Batman rolled to his feet, pain screaming up his side. Ribs, probably cracked. He could feel blood in his mouth.
Then, from the dark, a red streak of light—
Martian Manhunter returned.
He smashed through the broken window and tackled the Beast full-force, lifting him into the air and pinning him against the ceiling. "I said… STAND DOWN!"
The Beast responded by twisting in mid-air, kicking off the ceiling, and throwing J'onn back into the wall. He landed like a meteor, knocking over furniture and sending shards of ceramic scattering.
Both heroes regrouped.
The Beast stood between them breathing like an animal, hunched low, arms rippling, fingers curled like talons. His chest was streaked with blood that wasn't his. His mouth opened… not to speak, but to growl. A sound that didn't belong in human throats. He beat his chest once, like a gorilla in challenge, then lunged.
This time, both attacked in tandem.
J'onn phased partially, letting the Beast's punch pass through him, then struck with a telekinetic blast that sent furniture flying. Batman used the distraction to leap onto the Beast's back, locking an arm around the thick neck, trying to trigger the sedative injectors in his gloves.
It was like trying to sedate a volcano.
The Beast reached behind him and slammed Batman to the ground again—then stomped on his chest, hard enough to drive the wind out of him. Batman gasped, rolling aside, but the Beast followed, raining down blows like hammer strikes.
J'onn intervened again, driving his fists into the Beast's side, trying to keep him off balance. For a moment, it worked. The Beast staggered. Bled. But he didn't fall. He didn't weaken.
He grinned. Just a little.
As if he were enjoying it.
His fists came up again one-two-three, battering J'onn in the face, body, stomach. Then a final blow an uppercut that sent the Martian soaring back through another wall, crashing into the hallway.
And then it was just Batman again.
Wounded. Bleeding. But still standing.
The Beast loomed over him.
Breathing heavy.
Their eyes locked.
And then, for the first time… the Beast spoke.
"…You are not like the rest."
His voice was deep. Raw. Yet oddly regal in its certainty.
"You have suffered," he said, with the faintest grin. "You are awake."
Then, just like that… the Beast turned. Sprinting toward the shattered window.
He didn't leap.
He crawled. Like a monster spider, fingers and toes digging into the stone of the hotel's outer wall, he scaled downward at terrifying speed, arms and legs a blur of motion. Once he reached the base of the building, he launched himself across the alleyway, bounding from rooftop to rooftop until the night swallowed him whole.
And then he was gone.
Leaving only blood, dust, and the silence of two battered heroes trying to catch their breath.
**
Smoke drifted through the remnants of Nolan's room plaster dust, broken glass, the flicker of exposed wires sparking in the corner. The wind howled through the gaping hole where the window had once been. Sirens echoed distantly below.
Batman lay on the floor, unmoving for a moment. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, his cowl cracked above his brow. His ribs ached with every shallow breath. But slowly, steadily, he sat up, armored gloves pressing against the warped wood of the floor.
Across the room, Martian Manhunter emerged from the wreckage of the hallway, limping, shoulder bruised and singed from the impact. He blinked, his eyes glowing faintly as he approached.
Neither spoke at first.
Batman pressed two fingers to his wrist. Heart rate elevated. Bones intact barely.
"What was that?" J'onn said quietly.
Batman didn't answer immediately. He just stared out at the ruined skyline, at the rooftop across the alley where the Beast had vanished minutes earlier.
"I tried to hold back," J'onn added. "I pushed to far."
Batman finally looked at him. "He judged us."
J'onn tilted his head, frowning. "Judged?"
Batman stood, wobbling slightly before locking his knees. "That thing whatever it is operates on a belief system. He called me 'awake.' Said I'd suffered." He spat blood onto the broken floor. "That I passed some kind of test."
J'onn's eyes narrowed. "He's delusional."
"Maybe," Batman said. "But focused. Controlled rage. He wasn't out of control. He fought like a animal. A savage beast. And when he had what he wanted, he left."
J'onn's gaze turned inward, troubled. "I tried to reach Nolan. Tried to go into his mind. It was… fragmented. It was as if his mind was a broken plate. Every thought had sharp edges. Kieran which I'm assuming is the front man, then Quentin I think I heard one of them call, the third I heard but didn't catch his name they were all shouting. Screaming for me to stop."
"And you didn't," Batman said coldly.
"I had to try, I've never seen a mind like that."
"You pushed too far. You woke the one they all fear, which is telling in itself. How is a regular man able to gain enhanced capabilities from a personality?"
Silence stretched between them. The air was thick with more than dust now regret, maybe. Doubt.
J'onn folded his arms, his voice low. "Your right isn't just dissociative identity disorder. This is… I don't know, DID doesn't give you superpowers, There's trauma buried in him like landmines. I've seen minds fractured by pain but never anything like this."
Batman looked down at a dent in the floor, where the Beast had slammed him. His jaw tightened, "Do you think he can be helped?"
J'onn stepped beside him, watching the night. "I'm not sure. Should we alert the League?"
Batman was quiet. Thinking. Calculating.
"…No," he said. "Not yet. We watch him. We observe. But if we push again, he might not stop next time."
J'onn glanced at the bloodstains on the floor. "And if someone else wakes him?"
Batman's voice was grim. "Then we'd better hope they've suffered."
They stood there, side by side, overlooking the city below a city unaware of the monster climbing through its bones.