Godfather Owl: Guardian of Batman

In the real world.

Kathoom flew toward the villa, carrying Bruce's unconscious body.

Humming a familiar tune from his past life, he softly sang, "The world's greatest treasure is a mother's love…"

Upon arriving, Kathoom casually dropped Bruce onto the sofa.

The young vigilante remained motionless, his eyes tightly shut, showing no signs of waking up.

"I wonder what kind of dream you're having right now," Kathoom muttered with a sigh. "You look so peaceful—anyone passing by might think you were dead."

As his words faded, a violent tremor echoed from the distance.

Kathoom raised his head to see a figure hovering above the distant cityscape, firing lasers in all directions.

"Why has Homelander shrunk into a kid? And why's he laughing like a lunatic?"

Kathoom frowned, recalling something Martha had said earlier:

Bruce's life shouldn't be so fragile. I'm going to give him a complete one.

"So that's it," Kathoom murmured with a deep sigh. "Even if it's Martha, she's still the Joker. To achieve her goals, she'll go to any length."

Few villains could conceive of such an outrageous plan.

This? This was insanity on a whole new level.

Kathoom glanced at Bruce's slumbering form.

"It's about time for you to open your eyes... even if the one who wakes up isn't really you."

---

Inside Homelander's mind, in the laboratory chambers.

Bruce watched the screen as Homelander continued his rampage, destroying buildings and spreading anguish across the city.

Cries of fear and pain reverberated through the streets.

In the adjacent room, the young Homelander's timid voice kept asking questions.

"What does it mean to be your Robin? Are you saying you need my help?"

"If you're asking me to help, of course I can, but afterward, I have to come back here."

"Oh, and you said you're a hero of justice, right? What's your superhero name? All superheroes have one!"

Bruce didn't respond. Instead, he slowly closed his eyes and drifted into the dream Martha had spun for him.

It was Gotham again.

Wayne Manor again.

And their warm, happy family—again.

"Bruce, you're home!"

Martha, playing the doting mother, adjusted his collar with tender care.

Her gaze was filled with love. "You should understand by now. No matter how far you go, you'll always return to your mother's side."

"Mom."

Bruce spoke softly, "Did you really have to go this far? Why drag innocent people into this, just for our conflict?"

Homelander's wanton destruction was nothing more than Martha's ploy to weigh on Bruce's conscience and force him to yield.

The choice was simple: accept Martha's terms or watch the country crumble.

"You still don't understand the extent of my resolve."

Martha bent down and kissed Bruce gently on the forehead.

"When I came to this world, I made up my mind. To achieve my goal, I would stop at nothing."

"I manipulated Hughie to see if you'd stop him from killing someone. If you'd let him commit murder, I wouldn't have needed Homelander to go on this rampage."

"I filled Homelander's mind with Joker's twisted ideology and tricked him into drinking diluted Joker toxin to create a Joker persona within him, driving him mad."

"The Nth metal I brought along? That was to transform his body, to make him more like you."

"Bruce, no matter how crazy I seem, it's all for you."

Martha suddenly embraced Bruce tightly.

"I've been watching you, every clip of you since you joined The Seven. I've watched them over and over."

"Each time I watched, my determination grew stronger."

"I don't care if you hate me now. We can erase these memories later and start fresh."

"But, Bruce, the one thing that cannot change is that you must come back with me!"

Bruce felt the warmth of her embrace. It was real, not like a dream.

It had been five years since his mother last held him.

But…

He couldn't allow himself to fall.

"Mom," Bruce whispered, "you've truly lost your mind."

"Did you just realize that?"

Martha's voice was soft as she caressed his face.

Bruce lifted his head, his eyes fixed on Gotham's skyline through the window.

"Mom, you may not understand the depth of my resolve."

He raised his hand, and a small black gift box with a yellow ribbon appeared in his grasp.

It was Kathoom's gift—the one he was told to open when the time was right.

That moment was now.

"Mom, this has never been what I wanted. I've never considered inflicting pain on others for my own happiness."

"Quite the opposite. For Gotham's happiness, I'm willing to endure my own suffering."

Hugging Martha tightly, Bruce undid the ribbon behind her back.

A small red metal box tumbled into his hand.

It looked familiar.

A Bat-Signal? No…

Bruce turned it over, revealing a sticker on the back.

It was a grinning cartoon owl.

Seeing the familiar owl, Bruce couldn't help but smirk.

So that's what you were working on, Kathoom.

He recalled catching glimpses of the owl toiling away in his makeshift workshop, hunched over some unknown project.

Now he knew.

The Bat-Signal Barbatos had delivered was no longer a Bat-Signal.

Its new name? The Owl-Signal.

"Mom."

Bruce buried his face in her shoulder, his voice trembling as he fought back tears.

"Not a single moment has gone by when I didn't think of you or Dad, or question whether I was truly your son."

"But because I'm your son, I can't keep letting you make these mistakes."

"Mom, if I can't pull you out of your darkness, then let Gotham burn!"

Martha's eyes snapped open as she realized something was wrong.

Bruce stepped back, breaking their embrace.

"What are you doing?" Martha asked, her voice faltering. "It's useless. You can't escape this dream."

"I know."

Bruce gazed at the Owl-Signal in his hand.

"If I thought of this as just a dream, maybe it'd be easier."

"But how could I?

"Because in my hand, I hold this Owl-Signal."

"And I—"

Bruce raised his head, tears streaming down his face.

Facing Martha's worried expression, his eyes shone with unwavering determination.

"I am Batman!

"From Zur-En-Arrh!"

BOOM—

In that moment, everything before Bruce shattered.

Martha and Gotham vanished, replaced by the clarity of Bruce's own mental world.

Every mind has its sanctuary, its hall of thought.

And Bruce's sanctuary was an entire planet—Zur-En-Arrh.

He looked up. The sky was ablaze.

Surrounded by ruins, Bruce's mental stronghold was taking form.

Buildings rose from the rubble, arranging themselves into a skyline that mirrored Gotham from his memories.

Above it all, a massive stone platform floated in the void. Jet-black columns reached skyward, forming a colossal temple.

Bruce stepped forward, and as his foot lifted, a stairway materialized beneath him.

The fragments of his past coalesced before him, page by page, forming a great tome titled Bruce Wayne.

Each step he ascended brought him closer to himself.

Finally, he reached the stone platform and entered the temple.

Above the temple's entrance was a massive carving of a bat.

Beneath it stood a towering throne, flanked by six shadowy figures.

Bruce recognized them instantly—they were projections of the Justice League, creations of his own mind.

They watched him in silence.

On the throne sat a solitary figure.

The figure bore Bruce's face, but his expression was cold, indifferent.

This was Bruce's second persona—Zur-En-Arrh Batman.

Bruce moved toward the throne. One of the shadowy figures stepped forward to block his path.

It was Superman's projection, imbued with the guardian qualities Bruce had assigned him.

Bruce cast a single glance at the phantom, and it froze mid-step, retreating without another move.

Zur-Batman's eyes narrowed as he observed Bruce. "You're not here as a friend."

"I'm not a guest," Bruce replied, now standing at the foot of the throne. "This is my world. It always has been."

Reaching out, Bruce seized Zur-Batman's collar and yanked him from the throne, slamming him to the ground with force.

"This is my mind. I make the rules here!"

Turning, Bruce seated himself on the throne.

"I don't know when you were born—was it when I left Gotham? When I first encountered the metals? Or maybe… you've always been here, lurking within me.

"But remember this: you're just a second persona. Don't overstep your bounds."

Bruce declared his sovereignty over his own mind.

Zur-Batman glared at him, his expression fierce. He was Bruce, after all, and Bruce never backed down.

Their confrontation was inevitable.

Suddenly, a faint hoo-hoo echoed through the void.

BANG!

A peculiar little owl appeared behind Zur-Batman.

The owl was oddly round and dressed in a miniature Batman costume.

As the owl materialized, Zur-Batman froze, completely still save for the movement of his eyes.

"You finally opened the gift!"

The little owl cackled with glee. "So, what do you think of your godfather's brilliance?"

Bruce stared at the owl, sensing Kathoom's presence in its demeanor.

But… why was it wearing a Batman suit?

The tiny owl flitted away from Zur-Batman, who immediately regained his ability to move.

"I'm the contingency Kathoom created just for Zur-Batman," the little owl announced proudly. "You can think of me as Kathoom's second persona! My name's Kathoom II!"

To counter Batman's second persona, Kathoom's solution was to create his own.

Let one second persona deal with another.

Kathoom II puffed out his chest. "As long as I'm here in this sanctuary, Zur-Batman will always be under control!"

Bruce nodded. Kathoom's solution was, as always, thorough.

"Zur-Batman, my physical body is currently unconscious. Someone has to stop Homelander's rampage, and that task falls to you."

Bruce looked down. "How you handle it is up to you, but know this—Kathoom will be watching you in the real world."

Zur-Batman's expression darkened, clearly reluctant to cooperate.

Bruce softened his tone. "If you don't help, countless innocent people will die. This is about fixing Mom's mistakes."

Zur-Batman's icy glare wavered.

No matter how detached he was, at his core, he was still Batman.

---

In the villa.

Bruce's unconscious body, lying on the sofa, began to stir.

His eyelids twitched, and moments later, his eyes snapped open.

"Well, it seems Bruce didn't let me down."

Kathoom, perched nearby, spoke with satisfaction. "So, what should I call you now—Bruce, or Zur-En-Arrh?"

"Call me whatever you want," Zur-Batman replied coldly. "I don't have time for small talk. I need to assemble The Seven immediately."

They would need every resource and ally to stop Homelander's rampage.

Zur-Batman was preparing for war.

Zur-Batman versus Homelander.

It was time to fight.

---

T/N: This is so epic, lmao epic anyways idk why the superhero stories are the ones with the worst numbers but oh wellz i like them :D

im actually so tilted rn, i made an alt account on marvel rivals and holy shit are people in lower ranks so fucking stupid

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