Godfather Owl: Guardian of Batman

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Kathoom understood that while the current situation seemed manageable, there were complicating factors.

For instance, the Nth metal dagger was still out there, roaming freely.

The perpetrator behind the recent murders? It was likely Billy Butcher, a regular human hellbent on hunting supes.

His hatred for Homelander ran deep, stemming from a personal vendetta.

The woman whose name Homelander had casually forgotten earlier? She was Butcher's wife.

Stealing a man's wife… yeah, that's the kind of hatred that never dies.

Butcher's violent, single-minded desire to exterminate supes made him a natural beacon for the Nth metal dagger's attention.

There was even a chance Butcher had already come into possession of the dagger.

"Bruce, we need to stay vigilant," Kathoom cautioned. "One day, it might be you they decide to hunt."

---

Vought took the recent murders of supes very seriously.

Apart from Homelander, every member of The Seven was deployed to investigate the incidents and uncover the truth.

The teams were paired off for efficiency. Bruce found himself partnered with Starlight.

"I can't imagine how anyone could pull this off," Starlight said, flipping through gruesome crime scene photos. The blood and carnage made her stomach churn.

She was bewildered. "These weren't ordinary supes—they were exceptionally strong. How could they be killed so quietly?"

Strong?

Bruce reviewed the profiles of the slain supes in his mind. They were second-rate heroes at best.

Given proper preparation, Bruce thought he could take them down on his own—even without resorting to magic.

"Our job is to figure out who's behind this," Bruce said, feigning deep thought. "Judging by the damage to the bodies, the killer harbors a deep, personal hatred for supes."

"This kind of hatred doesn't come from nowhere. We should start by investigating possible motives."

Starlight watched Bruce with admiration.

He's only thirteen, yet he can analyze these gruesome photos without flinching.

"If we're talking about people who hate supes, that's a long list," she said with a sigh. "Given how recklessly many heroes behave, it's no surprise we have enemies."

She seemed oblivious to the fact that she herself was a superhero.

Bruce chose not to dwell on her lack of self-awareness. Instead, he directed his attention to Kathoom.

"Kathoom, tell me honestly—you know who the killer is, don't you?"

"I have my suspicions," Kathoom admitted. "But nothing concrete."

Bruce nodded, deciding not to press for a name.

"Are they the kind of lunatic who kills indiscriminately?"

"Not in my experience," Kathoom replied. "This guy's killings seem very deliberate."

"Good."

Bruce smiled faintly. "In that case, I won't rush to expose them. Ignorance is bliss. Let's keep it that way."

For a brief moment, Bruce felt hopeful.

This world wasn't beyond saving after all.

If humanity had allowed supes to run rampant without resistance, that would have been true despair.

Bruce didn't see himself as a defender of superhumans. He was, at his core, a human being.

The killer—however extreme their methods—was proof that humanity still had some fight left in it.

Bruce had no intention of being the bad guy here.

"Bruce," Kathoom interrupted, his tone laced with concern, "I've noticed something strange in your mindset.

"Are you starting to sympathize with Butcher?"

"Butcher?"

Bruce's interest piqued. So that's who Kathoom suspects.

"Absolutely," Kathoom continued. "It feels like you think Butcher is doing exactly what you wish you could—just in a less restrained manner."

The owl ruffled his feathers. "I have to remind you: Butcher is Butcher, and you're you. You're two very different people."

It was true. Bruce and Butcher had little in common. Their tactics, motivations, and reasons for opposing supes were worlds apart.

Still, spending so much time in the grim reality of The Boys' universe was starting to affect Bruce's perspective.

He was beginning to resemble someone else entirely—Thomas Wayne from the Flashpoint universe.

Kathoom had told Bruce before: Gotham was a lost cause.

But in some parallel universes, Gotham had been saved.

Take the Flashpoint timeline, for example.

In that world, Bruce's parents hadn't died in Crime Alley.

Bruce had.

The loss of their son drove Martha Wayne mad, turning her into the Joker.

She kidnapped children, forcing parents into harrowing moral dilemmas.

Meanwhile, Thomas Wayne, once a gentle doctor, donned the cowl to become the most ruthless incarnation of Batman.

Thomas showed no mercy. For him, crime was met with immediate and permanent justice.

Under his brutal methods, Gotham's criminals weren't sent to Arkham—they were killed on sight.

Decades later, Gotham became the safest city in America.

Kathoom couldn't help but notice how much Bruce was beginning to mirror Flashpoint Batman.

Maybe it's time to take him to the Flashpoint universe for a reality check.

But as quickly as the idea occurred, Kathoom dismissed it.

No. The DC multiverse is too dangerous right now. Barbatos is always watching. Sending Bruce there would be a death sentence.

Still, Kathoom couldn't shake the thought.

Since leaving the DC universe, Bruce had been exposed to nothing but antiheroes and outright villains.

He hadn't seen the hope or justice that the DC universe was capable of.

Without that balance, Bruce was bound to develop a skewed perspective.

Bruce's naturally obsessive tendencies weren't helping either. Exposing him to darkness after darkness was a surefire way to send him down the wrong path.

Maybe the Flashpoint universe is necessary after all, Kathoom thought. Bruce could meet Thomas Wayne—but not Martha.

In the Flashpoint timeline, Martha had killed herself after learning Bruce had become Batman.

She'd jumped from the roof of the Batcave, unwilling to live in a world where her son had taken on such a burden.

Considering how young Bruce was now—and how fiercely he idolized the idea of becoming Batman—introducing him to a broken, despairing Martha Wayne would only make things worse.

For now, I'll put the idea on hold, Kathoom decided.

The owl still hadn't figured out a way to sneak into the Flashpoint universe and leave undetected.

Unless a unique opportunity presented itself, returning to the DC universe wasn't an option.

---

At that moment, Bruce and Starlight were huddled together, trying to analyze the clues behind the recent murders.

Both were relatively new to the team, and Bruce—deliberately holding back—ensured their investigation was progressing at a snail's pace. In truth, they were accomplishing next to nothing.

Eventually, even Starlight couldn't take it anymore.

She lifted her head, her face flushed with embarrassment. "Bruce, do you think I'm… stupid?"

Bruce had already organized the clues into a coherent structure, but she still couldn't piece together any meaningful patterns.

"Not at all. You're not stupid!"

Bruce encouraged her with a reassuring smile. "You're just… smart in ways that aren't obvious."

"But I really have no idea where to even start!"

The case files were spread out before her, but Starlight couldn't figure out how to approach the investigation.

"It's not your fault," Bruce said kindly. "We haven't been to the crime scenes ourselves or seen the victims firsthand. It's normal to miss certain clues."

The news of the murdered supes had been tightly sealed by Vought. Letting it leak would be catastrophic, shattering the illusion of their invincibility.

To maintain the facade, Vought quickly cleaned up the crime scenes, leaving behind only a few hastily compiled case files.

The documentation was sloppy, riddled with inaccuracies. Even the autopsy reports were full of glaring mistakes.

The truth was, the supes who had died weren't high-profile enough for Vought to care.

In their eyes, these deaths were an inconvenience to be swept under the rug as quickly as possible—anything to avoid disrupting the company's revenue stream.

If one of The Seven were killed, it'd be a different story entirely, Bruce thought to himself.

But to Starlight, he offered a different explanation.

"It's fine. The company is doing its best."

Bruce added, "Ultimately, it's the police who failed in their initial investigations, letting the company down. If we had the chance to examine a body ourselves, I'm sure we'd find something new."

As soon as the words left his mouth—

The sound of frantic footsteps echoed from the hallway.

Ashley burst through the door, her face pale with terror.

"You have to come, now!"

Her voice was urgent and trembling. "Something terrible has happened!"

Starlight immediately stood up, steadying Ashley. "Don't panic. Tell us what's going on."

"It's… it's Black Noir!"

Ashley's entire body was shaking as she pointed toward the corridor. "Black Noir has been killed!"

Boom.

The announcement hit like a thunderclap.

Starlight froze, her mind reeling.

Another one dead…

Since Translucent's death, another member of The Seven had been killed.

When Starlight first joined The Seven, there had been rumors online suggesting she wasn't a rising star but a harbinger of doom—some called her the Death Star.

They claimed her arrival had cursed Translucent, leading to his death and clearing a spot for her on the team.

Starlight had always dismissed such talk as ridiculous superstition. Fate? Bad omens? None of it had anything to do with her.

If I really were some "Death Star," Deep would've been next to go, she had often joked to herself.

But now, this sudden news shattered her confidence.

It hasn't even been that long… and already two of The Seven are dead.

Could it be true? Am I really carrying some kind of curse?

On the other side of the room, Bruce exchanged a glance with Kathoom.

This is… suspiciously convenient.

"Was this your doing?" Bruce asked, his voice low.

It was hard not to wonder. He had just been thinking that a member of The Seven needed to die for Vought to take things seriously—and now it had actually happened.

The timing was uncanny.

"Absolutely not!"

Kathoom flapped his wings indignantly, rejecting the accusation.

"Why would I kill Black Noir? I'm not some speciesist lunatic!"

The owl was adamant: if he were going to kill someone, he wouldn't do it quietly.

He'd make sure the whole world knew.

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