ใ ๐๐ง๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ด๐ต๐ข๐ณ๐ท๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ข๐ต๐ฉ ๐ถ๐ฑ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ, ๐จ๐ช๐ท๐ฆ ๐๐ด๐ต๐ณ๐ช๐ฅ ๐๐ณ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฎ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ด๐ต! ใ
The last words called out by Hugo Strange in his escape, following a mechanism engaging that locked the door behind him. He ran out of view and disappeared to a lower floor beneath the stairs, off to do god-knows-what. Lonnie ran to the door after him before it shut, pushing against it while jiggling the handle to no effect. He slaps his palm against the glass, and then balls his fist and bangs it thrice.
"Fucking damn it- HUGO!"
He yells out, but it's likely not heard. He pushes down harder against the door handle that had secured itself shut like a locked door, using his body weight in an attempt to snap the lock. His hands push down and he groans with effort, to no avail.
"Who the hell puts a locked armored door in an attic?"
He mumbles when his attempts become futile. He sighs, turning his head and walking away from the door. He bends his arms, sliding them under his coat and around his back as he feels around at the pockets on his sides and backside. There was nothing; the professor had emptied him out while he was unconscious. He steps forward to the table he'd pulled his crossbow from, grabbing the other various pieces of equipment that had been confiscated.
He places his earpiece in his ear and taps, greeted by a momentary static and then a single two-note chime that tells him he's connected. He pulls the spare arrows that had been casually tossed and rolled on to the surface, tucking them into his coat.
"MAX. I ran into Hugo. He's just as crazy as I remember all those years ago."
He recalls #GOTHAMOVERRUN3, in which the two were unlikely workers underneath Sionis. Strange had always been a character in Gotham's underworld, lurking beneath the surface as an Arkham doctor before his descent into villainy with a feverish obsession rivaled only by Bane, Joker, and Hush.
"He didn't care about me. Every word he said was directed to someone else while he pretended I filled that void."
He pulls his grapple gun and sticks it into his belt.
"He's only after Batman. He used me to try and get into his head. Called me 'uniquely damaged' like he is, apparently. And... he also said he knew who my father was."
He stops, staring into the black, empty eyeholes of the golden mask that had become his identity for the last decade.
"Just like Fisk did. Apparently he's around, and he wants to see me. Looks like it's an open secret I'm the only one not in on."
He steps to the side and looks at the table Hugo had been at. There were glass vials of medications with various names and colors, and multiple needles for injections.
Photographs were spread around the metal, and bringing them to the light revealed something... wrong. The people in them weren't natural at all, with many sections of their body horrifically deformed or mutated into something else.
"Looks like he's been busy. I wouldn't doubt he's already been here before his position with Black Mask's book club was publicly announced. He's been making more Monster Men."
Admittedly, Lonnie didn't know much about what Hugo did outside of his obsession with Batman. He only knew the title of the beasts from years of Gotham history, with them having been involved in a handful of Bat misadventures. But from what he could see, they were absurdly deformed and brutish assuming they were done right.
"He has me locked in this attic space. He got into the stairwell through a steel door that locked up tight behind him like a vault. Nothing I have on me is getting through that, and I'm risking too much calling in a dead drop. Get me the schematics for what this place was. 2391 Orchard."
The address of the medical facility he was trapped in, the former Maroni family estate. The crime families had been mostly cleaned up in Batman's first few years and their properties were left in legal limbo, seeing as multiple attorneys and officials had been bribed into allowing things that weren't viable. The new administration had cut through the red tape and gotten hold of the property fully, it seemed.
He sticks his mask behind him, tucking it in under his coat. He wraps his watch back around his arm, tapping at the screen to bring it to life. It lights up with a blank white background and the 'A' of his ideology in the center. He squeezes a button on the side and a hologram rises from the screen, revealing a 3D view of the blueprints of the estate - including the attic, where he was represented by a single red dot. He turns a small gear on the side, rotating the image to better see his spot.
"That must be his office underneath me. Where's that ladder, then?"
He asks himself, beginning to walk toward where he saw the outline of a room below. As he stands on top of it, he looks down. The floor had none of the siderails or rungs that would form a ladder, but the obvious rectangular cutout of where the hatch was sat under his feet. It was as if somebody had painfully removed the folding ladder, ensuring that if it had been pulled down, nobody could easily reach the room.
It looked like Anarky hadn't the first patient in Hugo Strange's personal office, but he would make sure he was the last. It had only been a short week since he had been appointed as a city leader, but it was a productive week. This wasn't news, it had all been planned. Roman Sionis had set this up and started on it long before it was ever in the public eye, placing Hugo inside when it became the right time.
The display closes as he presses the button again, lowering his arm. He's left in partial darkness as the bright interrogation lights flood the rest of the area. He looks around the room, searching for anything remotely usable to fix this situation. Lonnie had only come prepared with a set of Anarky Stars, communication devices, crossbow, and grapnel gun, none of which were helpful in smashing through a wooden floor. However, the crowbar in the corner would do well.
He grabs it and drags it against the floor, lifting it into both of his hands as he stares. He eyes the edges of the hatch that slightly let in the light of the room below, which stand as his best spots to strike. So the crowbar goes down, held by its curved end as he stabs its sharp end into the wood. There's the loud echo and a visible splinter in the hatch; the floor had been designed for weight and impact, but the hatch door hadn't been, designed only to support the ladder.
It comes down again, and again, and again until it pierces the wood and invades the office. He pulls it out and stomps along the edge, letting it slowly creak inward until it snaps, the hatch falling down and swinging on its other end.
He exhales through his nose, stepping back and dropping the crowbar to the floor.
"All that brain, none of that common sense."
He jokes about Hugo as he squats down with a groan, placing a hand on the floor as he drops his legs over, falling down to the carpet. His feet land and his other hand does with them, knees unbending and back straightening as he stands up. The red lights from earlier were turned off, and the alarm no longer blamed. He didn't know how long it had been, but it was certainly more than a few minutes from the looks of it.
His eyes focus on the computer in what looked to be the professor's office. He walks around the desk and taps the space bar on the keyboard twice, which prompts him with a login screen that demands a username and password.
"MAX, I'm putting you in."
Out of his back pocket comes a USB drive, colored black and branded with his symbol on one side. He sticks it into an open spot underneath and the screen flickers, tearing along the edges. Without his input, a series of stars fills in the password spot as a remote user enters a 14-character guess. 'Hugo Strange' is welcomed into Windows 11.
"Next time, use NordVPN."
He goes to the file explorer, opening up the documents folder. There are multiple there; case studies, personal notes, employment information. He selects them all and copies them to the USB. Whatever sits on this computer could be the key to stopping Sionis, Strange, and whatever the hell they were doing with innocent people.
Once he's done, he unplugs the stick and puts it back into his pocket and walks to the door. He stands against the wall and pulls it open slowly, listening quietly. It's silent in the halls, with the lights off and whatever staff wandered earlier gone. He plucks a small object from his belt and clicks a button on its end, turning on his flashlight. The golden beam pierces the darkness, lighting up a distant painting of a landscape.
He slips out from the room and enters the hallway, shutting the door behind him. The light comes closer to him as he turns his wrist and eyes to the ground, noticing blood on the linoleum. He squats down and swipes at it with two fingers and looks at them in the light - completely dry. Old blood.
"What the hell happened when I was out?"
He mumbles to himself. At that point he's startled by a distant, thunderous boom that shakes the entire building and he stands up straight. It's silent for only a moment before a series of them follow, vibrating the floor beneath him as they disappeared down the hallway. He follows the sound with the flashlight, illuminating the linoleum all the way until the door at the end. Something large was in this building with him, and it was somewhere underneath him.
The anarchist turns his hand again to the dried blood, the drips leading further down the hall in the opposite direction the footsteps below went. Quietly he follows the trail, keeping his beam on the floor to light it up but occasionally checking with his eyes for anything that could be in his way. If nothing else, Gotham was a city that came to life in the dark. The most dangerous hunters thrived in the shadows and the unseen, feasting on the inherent fear of the unknown to conquer their prey. He knew that at any corner, someone or something could grab him.
He turns a corner where the trail ends, and is greeted by brighter blood on the floor. It's visibly wet against the white surface, smeared by something either dragging or stepping into it before him. It ends around another corner, where he's greeted by-.
"Oh, fuck."
He steps back. In front of him on the floor outside of a door is a man's corpse. Blood pools around where he lays on his side against the bottom of the door, visible chunks of flesh and organs leaking out into it like a disgusting spaghetti dish from the massive tear across his gut. Lonnie steps forward after a moment's hesitation, crouching down. He shines the light along his wounds, tightening his lips in both empathy and disgust. However, upon a deeper look, the mortal gash that had ripped his torso open did not appear so clean. In fact, it looked like something had-
ใ ๐๐ฉ๐ฏ๐ฏ๐ฉ๐ฉ... ใ
The flashlight snaps to the left where the sound came from. The man's mouth hangs open and he takes a breath that sounds more like a death rattle than oxygen entering him, right arm slightly twitching as he attempts to move.
"Hey,"
Lonnie speaks under his breath, softly.
ใ ๐๐ถ๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ฉ... ใ
The man's voice is labored and airy, and a massive rip from the side of his throat seems to explain it.
"Don't talk. Shh."
He brings his finger to his lip. There was no doubt that an employee for Strange was a sellout who would push a fascist's evil agenda for a paycheck, but Lonnie could offer him a peaceful final moment. He had clearly been through enough.
ใ ๐๐ถ๐ถ๐ถ... ๐ฏ๐ฏ๐ฏ๐ฏ๐จ๐ณ๐บ... ใ
"What?"
ใ ๐๐ฆ'๐ด... ๐ฆ๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฏ๐จ... ใ
"Who's he? What's he eating?"
The man wheezes and coughs. The cough spits some blood from his lower torso into the pool from where his lung used to be intact, making Lonnie wince at the sight. His right arm trembled and then collapsed to the floor as he gave up, becoming a quiet mess of what was once human against the floor.
"Damn it."
He stands up. Blood continues to flow and he steps back, but his boots are already coated in it. He stares at the red liquid that stains him, but quickly turns as he hears another distant boom. He can't tell if it's on his floor, above, or below as the last one was, but it has his attention.
There's another boom after the last one, and the accompanying rattle of something beneath him. As if something heavy was either thrown at a shelf, or if the entire shelf had fallen. He assumed beneath him was a lab room of sorts, where something could potentially be. Earlier he had met the woman of the Monster Men that had been manufactured down below, and that had kept his alertness up even after being knocked out. There could be more anywhere in this building, including underneath.
He turns the corner and shines his light down the staircase. There's a lower landing, and then a turn as it would lead to the floor below him. The landing was clear for now.
"Something down there's violating quiet hours."
He whispers to himself, a small comfort in the dark times.
The lower level was similar to the one he had come from. It was a hallway that extended in both directions, with multiple doors to multiple rooms closed and likely locked. It was still as silent as it was above, meaning that the only thing in this building beside him was the source of all that noise. He stepped from stairs to carpet, shining his light down both dark directions. There was no blood trail this time, but there was glass all over the floor from the ceiling; remnants of the Maroni family's expensive tastes, but now shattered like their control over Gotham. The noisemaker likely made those come down with all the banging and slamming, he assumed.
At the end of the hallway, there's a light on he notices. His thumb can't press the button on his flashlight fast enough to shut it off, falling to one knee as he stares. It's silent as his eyes adjust to the immediate darkness around himself, until he fully focuses enough to continue. He makes his way down the hall, slowly reaching a hand into his belt as he had before, retrieving the knife he had come in with. He drops it from all fingers but his middle and thumb, letting it swing downward until he catches it, flipping the direction the blade faced as he came close.
Lonnie stops at the doorway and leans against it, his eyes on the opposite section of the doorframe as he pays attention. There's another stomp that's closer than ever, physically shaking the building and rattling the ceiling above him.
ใ ๐-๐๐ฆ๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ง๐ถ๐ค๐ฌ ๐ข๐ธ๐ข๐บ ๐ง๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฎ ๐ฎ๐ฆ! ใ
A panicked male voice is heard somewhere in the room. At that point he moves in, running around the corner and entering the small lab. Tables of beakers and laptops surround him like it's a high school chemistry classroom - he shouldn't be too surprised, considering how incompetent most of Sionis' picks for city leadership were - and a new blood trail on the ground. Two bodies are already on the floor, with similar injuries to the one upstairs.
He doesn't get a chance to say 'what the fuck' before he hears the same voice from before scream, shifting his attention. There's a large glass window in front of him, which is entered through a small decontamination room on the left - of which the doors had been torn open, with the vapor permanently seeping out into that narrow corridor from other damages. The light flickers inside, making it difficult for him to make out what was truly happening.
There's a growl inside, and one more attempt at a word from the man before his body flies into view, slamming directly into the glass in front of Lonnie with a thud that leaves a crack in it. He flinches and his eyes widen, shocked from the sheer strength that was witnessed. Another low groan from something's throat echoes, and a heavy footstep comes forward.
He didn't know what he was about to see come into view. Hugo Strange had created an army of monsters of any race or gender, but he had many notable characters in his cells. Would there be a mutated Killer Croc, or perhaps one of the Clayfaces had breached containment?
His question was answered, as the naked white foot with disgustingly rotted toenails stepped into the light. It flickered and went out for another moment, but returned to expose its red suspenders with the buttons snapped from stretching too far, straps hanging down against a six-foot-wide torso. Another flicker reveals the bare torso with blood stains against pale, dry skin. The last one is the shaven head, mutated teeth and bloody face of the source of the noise.
"Jesus fucking Christ..."
Tweedledee.
As absurd as it sounded, one of the Tweed cousins stood before him - morphed and swollen into whatever this beast was in front of him. The duo had been tall but 'Dee was now nearly ten feet tall, hunched over like many of the Monster Men. His body had morphed with it, his already morbidly obese frame widening as well, with a belly over half of Anarky's own height and rotten, dead skin decorating it.
ใ ๐๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฅ... ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐! ใ
The behemoth muttered from a mouth of rotten teeth, a dislocated jaw that looked too small for the rest of the skull, and dripping with blood. His arms reached down and pulled up the scientist that had become his latest victim by the arms and legs, bringing it to his mouth, and-
๐ฆ๐ฃ๐๐๐ง!
Blood went in all directions as its teeth sunk into him, including onto the glass. It moaned and breathed with sick satisfaction as the horrific crunch of bone and squelching of flesh filled the observation area from the speaker, until the splat of the body ended the assault.
It was one of the most horrific things Lonnie ever seen, and he could only stand and watch with a mouth hung agape. Even as a long-time vigilante in a city of serial killers and mass terror attacks, this was... something beyond cannibalism. It was like a starving child eating raw meat; like a dog eating a rabbit.
Tweedledee breathed heavily and then looked around. Lonnie came back to reality as he heard him mumble something incomprehensible, before it looked at him. Its mouth opened and grinned, more blood dripping from its jaw. For a moment, it just stood there and he did the same. He didn't dare move. Perhaps 'Dee would assume he was a statue, or something already dead, or-
๐๐ข๐ข๐ !
He slammed into the glass. The crack from before spread, and bits of blood seeped out from its holes. Lonnie stepped back, putting his knife away and quickly pulling the crossbow from his back. His left hand fiddled with his pocket to retrieve an arrow.
๐๐ข๐ข๐ !
The lights above flickered and more blood came through. It wouldn't hold another blow. Not from something like whatever he'd become. Lonnie pulled the string and loaded the bow,
๐๐ฅ๐๐ฆ๐!
The glass exploded and the lower wall fell with it. Tweedledee ran into the room and subsequently fell over, shaking the building on impact. He then lifted his head, slapping at the floor with his bloodied hands as he crawled.
Lonnie fired one shot at him. It landed between his fingers, but he seemed to ignore it.
"Okay, time to run."
And he did just that, turning and running through the doorway. Tweedledee followed, ramming the doorframe and knocking it down in one single slam. The world moved in slow motion as Lonnie looked down, placing another shot into his crossbow. It's a 22-inch bolt, tipped with steel and designed for cutting into metal and staying. He turned his upper body to take the shot, and-
He's hit in the back by a massive hand, which knocks the weapon out of his and sends him into the wall. He hits the brick with a grunt, falling to the carpet but still sliding based on his momentum. He recovers, pulling his knife out, but not before he's pinned to the wall by the same hand. Tweedledee's grip is like a baby to a rattle; tight and crushing the life out of him, and way too big. He's lifted to the ceiling.
ใ ๐๐๐๐๐๐! ใ
He roars. Lonnie's arms were free, struggling against the large grip. He takes the knife and plunges it into the web between the thumb and index, with subsequent grey blood leaking from the wound, but it doesn't affect him. However, Tweedledee seems to adjust his thumb perhaps feeling the sting, raising it closer to his prey's armpit away from the hips.
That was what he needed, which would be helpful in a second.
The arm moved away from the wall, and approaches the head. His legs go first toward the open mouth of the beast 'Dee had become, meaning he had only moments before he was done for. He panics, spreading them with the new leverage he had with his waist free. His boot pushes down on the weaker lower jaw, the other kicking him in the eye. Tweedledee groans and leans back, but then continues.
That moment gave him the chance to reach into his center-right hip pocket, retrieving his flare gun. He aims beneath his leg, firing the round into his foe's gaping mouth. The room is bathed in orange for a moment as the round exits the gun, then disappears down the beast's throat as fully planned. Tweedledee's voice cracks and he coughs, letting Anarky fall to the floor. Lonnie coughs as well, air allowed to fully enter his lungs again. His chest heaves with the newfound oxygen, but his head turns to the golden crossbow left on the floor. His eyes look at the brute, who stumbles backward into the wall.
He runs for it, dashing by the freak of unnatural causes. 'Dee notices and leans forward to grab him, but falls into the wall on his forehead, letting out another odd sound of pain. The anarchist lunges to grab his weapon and takes it into his hands, putting the bolt back into place. A big hand wraps around his ankles and pulls him hard, but he snaps around and-
ใ ๐๐๐๐๐- ใ
๐ง๐๐-๐๐ข๐ข๐ !
The steel bolt pierces his eye, sinking into his skull and poking whatever the hell his brain looked like. His grip instantly relaxes and he faceplants, the arrow ending up deeper into the enlarged eyeball.
Lonnie takes a breath and stares, before kicking the hand off of him and crawling backward, swallowing his shaky feeling away as the blood pools beneath him. He stands up with a groan, clutching his left arm. Looks like that wall had kicked his ass.
"...Even you deserved better than that."
He says, turning to his right. He groans, rolling his shoulder as he steps down the stairs. He goes down the next set, further descending into the basement below. It's like a cave was dug out; brown walls of hardened dirt, a path of stone like it was recently paved, and ceiling lights like a mineshaft.
He walks, and turns to his left. They were large tanks designed for human beings, but they were empty and drained of whatever fluid had been in them before. He steps toward the desk in front of them, taking the pages and folding them up, hiding them under his belt. Important for later.
As he continues on, there's a door at the end of the hallway. It's armored, but a green light suggests that it's unlocked. Perhaps when the building was evacuated, the orderly had forgotten to lock up.
'PROJECT W.K.'
The letters decorating the doors that split open as he pushes the button to open them, and he steps into a room.
Lights above him come on like it's a horror movie; one at a time, each with a loud bang to illuminate a path. They stop just short of a singular tank, which has its own lights come to life above it.
Around him are two turrets, with laser sights pointed at the glass of the tank itself. The sign on top says 'UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS WILL RESULT IN TURRET FIRE'.
"Oh, no..."
He can only say as he sees who sits in the tank.
"No, no, no..."
Pale skin.
"Hugo, what the fuck did you do?"
Green hair, flowing in a tank of poison.
"M-MAX, I need you to... I-I don't know..."
Green eyes, staring right at him.
"Hugo's deep secret... he..."
White bubbles. He could swear they leave the oxygen mask's edges as a '๐ฉ๐ข, ๐ฉ๐ข, ๐ฉ๐ข' pattern.
๐ง๐ต๐ฒ ๐๐ผ๐ธ๐ฒ๐ฟ, missing for over a year after he'd sent a ferris wheel straight through Old Gotham. Everyone, even Batman and Sionis themselves, had assumed he had died in the aftermath with his body never found, but... he was here. Hugo Strange had been keeping the Joker under his office the entire time.
"...Fuck me."
โโโโโโโโโโโโโโ
It doesn't take him long to find the exit from there. The underground laboratory had an emergency exit from the opposite hall, leading up a private elevator that ascended to the cellar. From there, he just had to step outside into the night.
As he steps out he runs a hand through his hair, taking a breath as he turns back around. He taps at his earpiece,
"MAX, I... I need you to take a note."
He then looks back to Gotham City far away, with a horizon decorated by the pink and orange light of daybreak.
"I need to see Batman. As soon as I possibly can. Joker's alive. That's something he needs to know before anything else."