A/N: Wow! Two updates (almost) within two months of each other! Hopefully I'll be able to keep up this pace ;-P. Anyways, here's Chapter 42 of Roles Reversed. Hope you enjoy!

Dusk

Bruce's body was screaming. He tried to breathe, but his mouth and lungs were flooded with the burning liquid engulfing him.

He tried to stand up, to get out of the water, but he couldn't move. His body was in total agony. He felt like screaming, but couldn't.

He could barely make out the muffled shouts of people behind him, clawing at his arms and legs, trying to keep him down in the water, trying to convince him to stay.

He was so tired...it hurt too much.

"REST" the voices whispered. "REST CHILD, YOU DON'T HAVE TO FIGHT ANYMORE."

He almost did what they asked, but another voice overpowered them.

"BRUCE!" Selina screamed. "HELP ME!"

He emerged from the water with a defiant scream.

Air rushed into his lungs. His body still burned, but not nearly as badly. Two pairs of hands grabbed onto his arms and pulled him out of the pool of green liquid.

He passed out.

When he woke up, he was in a comfy bed. It was far softer than his bed at his apartment, but harder than his bed at the Manor.

He sat bolt upright and nearly passed out again.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Talia shushed, rushing to his side and lowering him back down slowly. "You shouldn't be up."

"Wh-where am I?" he demanded.

"You're safe, Bruce," she soothed. "You're safe. Just breathe."

He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. The throbbing pain of his burnt hand was gone. In fact, all the pain was gone, from the arrow he'd gotten shot with to the slash through his throat.

His hand jumped to his neck.

There was no cut, not even a scar.

He opened his eyes slowly, adjusting to the lighting of the room. It was definitely underground, with no windows and all artificial lighting. The room itself was rather large. The bed took up a quarter of the space and was plush and comfortable. The frame had long, elaborately woven curtains that were pulled back around the four wooden posts, which extended to the roof. A beautiful chandelier let off just enough orange light to see, with lamps around the edges of the room lighting the rest of it. The walls seemed more like carved limestone than concrete.

Where in Gotham was built out of limestone?

Oh…

Talia was sitting on the foot of the bed. She looked legitimately worried. He'd never seen that expression on her before. Most of their interactions had been made up of him messing with her, her getting pissed off, and Jean trying not to burst out laughing at Bruce's gall.

Jean…

He tried to sit up again. "Jean…" he breathed. "Where is he? Did you–"

His voice caught in his throat.

Just across the room, casually leaning against a wall was none other than Jean-Paul Valley, very much alive. "Sup, Bruce," he greeted with a sarcastic smile.

If Bruce could've stood up, he would've killed him, again.

Talia threw him a dirty look. "As you can see, Jean is fine…unfortunately. We found him not long after he passed. Finding you, on the other hand, was a different story." She said it as if he'd been misbehaving by running away from the assassins trying to kill him.

Jean barked out a laugh. "I can't believe you stole a cop car."

"I can't believe you died!" Bruce shouted.

"So did you!" Jean retorted.

Talia rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, you both died. Very impressive. Jean, if you wouldn't mind telling my father that Bruce woke up?"

Jean sighed and trudged off. He looked perfectly fine, not a scratch on his body.

When he was gone, Bruce asked, "So…I really died?"

Talia nodded. "You were gone for about an hour. Bringing you back wasn't easy, you almost didn't survive it."

"Survive it?" Bruce asked. "I was dead."

She rolled her eyes. "That's not what I mean. You were dead, yes, but your soul was not. If you hadn't survived the Lazarus Pit, your soul also would have been devoured by the demons and you would not have been able to enter the afterlife."

"What the hell is a Lazarus Pit?" Bruce asked, exasperated and confused at all the new information he'd been receiving. "Also I don't remember going to any kind of afterlife."

"Well of course you wouldn't, the human mind cannot comprehend death. As for the Lazarus Pit, my father will explain all of that. He's very familiar with the finer details of reincarnation."

Bruce's head was spinning. He had really died…

He felt ashamed.

He'd been weak. He'd let another man take his life. He'd failed.

Ra's al Ghul entered the small room, followed by Jean and a pair of assassins. Talia stood and bowed.

Even if he could've stood up, Bruce wouldn't have followed suit. He had gone to Ra's after being bested by one of Hugo Strange's freaks. Jean saved him from the freak and brought him back to the League of Assassins. Ra's had welcomed him with open arms. He and Jean and Talia had trained and learned and fought together for four months.

Then, when Bruce was supposed to be officially inducted into the League of Assassins, he'd been given a task: Kill a man. It didn't matter who, it didn't matter for what reason. All he had to do was take a life and present the body to Ra's.

Bruce had refused.

Ra's had insisted that he had great potential; he may even one day take over as the Demon's Head, the leader of the League.

But, Bruce walked away. He still did an occasional job or two whenever Jean or Talia called, but he'd mostly abandoned the League for the past few months.

And yet, here he was, right back at the mercy of Ra's al Ghul.

Ra's smiled kindly, no hint of malice in his eyes or expression. He seemed genuinely happy to see Bruce. "Mr. Kyle," he greeted. "Welcome back."

Bruce struggled into a seated position, rejecting Talia's attempts to help him. "Hello, Ra's. It's nice to see you, again, but I'm very busy so I think I'll just…" He pulled himself to the edge of the incredibly comfortable bed and slowly pushed himself onto his feet.

Ra's watched bemusedly. "Bruce, I understand you do not want to be here, and I promise, as soon as you are well, you can walk out of these doors and never return."

"I'm fine," Bruce insisted.

"You were dead a few hours ago," Talia stated. "You are not fine."

"Please, Mr. Kyle," Ra's said, taking another step towards Bruce, leering over him. "Sit down, or at least allow Talia to assist you."

Bruce grit his teeth. It was taking all of his strength to stay standing. He felt better, not an ounce of soreness in his body, but he was exhausted.

He relented, allowing Talia to help him stand upright.

"What do you want, Ra's?" he asked while trying to catch his breath.

Ra's smiled, and motioned for him and Talia and Jean to follow him. "I think I have made that quite clear. I want you to succeed me."

"And, with all due respect, that's never gonna happen," Bruce retorted. "We've done this all before."

Ra's nodded. "Yes, I quite remember the sting of your last rejection. But, that was before. This is now. Time changes people, I believe."

"People change people," Bruce responded.

Ra's chuckled. "That's very wise. Have your recent interactions with certain people affected your views on such matters?"

"No," Bruce answered bluntly, not allowing himself to think the question through.

Of course his opinions on murder had been shaken. He had just died. How could that not change him?

Ra's knew he was lying, but accepted his answer. "Well, my first death certainly affected me. I recognized the unfairness and cruelty of this world. Did I ever tell you of the circumstances of my first death, Bruce?" Bruce shook his head. "It is a sad tale. My first love, Talia, my daughter's namesake, was violated and murdered in front of me by one of my political rivals. I could do nothing but watch. I was weak, Bruce. When my captors were satisfied with my torment, they killed me, and I let them. I could have fought back, I could have avenged my wife, but…" He sighed, suddenly seeming hundreds of years older. "When I was brought back, I learned to understand death as a part of life. One cannot exist without the other. I have dedicated my many lifetimes to serving death so that life may flourish, so that no man or woman must know the pain I have gone through."

Bruce sighed and asked, "What does all of that have to do with me?"

Ra's furrowed his brow. "To be honest, my boy, I do not know." He looked out over the balcony they were standing at. "Just the ramblings of an old man, I suppose. You look exhausted, Bruce. We will talk more when you awaken. Talia, if you will escort Mr. Kyle back to his chamber?"

Talia nodded. "Yes, father." She helped Bruce shuffle back down the hallway to his bedroom. He collapsed and passed out the second his face hit the pillows.

Selina woke up in a large, comfy bed. She turned over, reaching for her nightstand. She found nothing.

She sat bolt upright, frantically scanning her surroundings. This wasn't the manor…

Memories of the night prior rushed to the forefront of her mind; the house in the woods, the trees, the Mad Hatter and his goons, the drive back to the city, Kathryn's offer…

Instead of going home, Kathryn had taken her directly to the Court, saying the Manor wasn't secure yet.

She had toured the Court's headquarters, met the other members. She already knew several of them. They greeted her like an old friend, and some even offered her condolences for her parents' passing.

She was inducted into the Court, took a seat at their table.

She turned back over and stared at the owl mask, casually thrown on the floor when she'd retired earlier in the morning.

It felt wrong to wear that mask. Kathryn had told her it had been worn by her father when he was in the Court.

That mask had gotten her parents killed. So what if her father had died "fighting for the city's soul", like Kathryn had claimed? Dead men don't help anyone.

But as wary of the mask as she was, the benefit of wearing it was nothing to scoff at. Being able to protect Bruce and Alfred was worth the risk alone, not to mention all the good she could do on the Court. She knew several families who were apart of it, and they were all good people.

So maybe this wouldn't be so bad?

Besides, her room, for the time being, had quite the view…

She laid back down and stared at the ceiling. A pit formed in her stomach.

Bruce had never called her.

She hoped he was alright, wherever he was...

Bruce had a fitful sleep. Images of green spirits dragging him down into an abyss plagued his mind as he slept, demanding for him to kill. He dreamt of the man in the alleyway in Bludhaven, but instead of allowing him to be arrested, he'd struck true with his knife, executing him for his crimes. He felt satisfied, like he'd made the world a permanently better place, but somewhere else in his mind screamed that this was wrong, that this wasn't what he wanted. He didn't kill…

'Why?' the man's corpse questioned in a horrible, raspy voice. 'Why do you not kill, Bruce? I deserve it…'

His eyes fluttered open. Jean was shaking him. His normally neat, cropped hair was all messed up and he was still wearing his bed-clothes. Talia came running into the doorway, dressed in a long t-shirt and sweatpants, her hair going everywhere. She already had her twin daggers pulled.

"What's wrong?" she demanded, searching the room for threats.

"Why were you screaming, Bruce?" Jean asked.

Bruce was breathing hard. His bed sheets and his clothes were soaked with sweat. He wiped away several tears, hoping that Jean and Talia thought it was just his sweat. "I'm sorry…" he told them, burying his face in his hands and pulling hard on his hair.

Talia put her daggers away and sat on the bed beside him, opposite of Jean. "It's ok, Bruce," she assured him. "Everything is ok."

"No it isn't," he shot back. "I don't know what's happening to me."

"I do," another voice said from the doorway. Ra's was standing there, fully dressed in contrast to the three of them. "But I can only help you if you will let me."

Bruce glared up at him. He had half a mind to split his skull right here and now.

"Yes, Bruce," Ra's started. "You could take one of my daughter's daggers and stab me. With the power of the pit coursing through your veins, as well as the bloodlust building up inside of you, you may even be successful. But before you try to kill me, allow me a chance to help you."

Bruce slowed down his breath enough to murmur, "Go ahead."

Ra's smiled, pulling up a chair next to his daughter at Bruce's bedside. "Bruce, what you are experiencing is the exact same thing I experienced when I was first brought back. It is called Bloodlust. The spirits that normally would have fed on us after death are cheated and demand a sacrifice, a replacement. When I returned from the dead, I slaughtered the men who killed my wife, along with their wives and their children. I leveled an entire village before my lust for the blood of my enemies was quenched. Yet, no matter how many men I killed, the thirst returned. I had no one to help me, so I continued killing. I became the Demon's Head, razing civilizations at a time in order to satisfy the demons who controlled me."

"How do I stop it?" Bruce demanded.

Ra's turned to Talia. "Daughter, would you go to my chambers and retrieve the Swords?"

Talia nodded and ran off.

Ra's sighed and told him, "Bruce, for centuries, fueled on by the power of the Lazarus Pit, I killed millions. My reign of terror was only brought to an end when a warrior named Azrael presented me with a pair of swords."

Talia walked in, carrying a familiar wooden crate, the same one they had stolen back in Bludhaven. Ra's took it from her and thanked her, opening the crate and presenting the two weapons to Bruce and Jean. "The Sword of Sin," he said, gesturing to one with a yellow gemstone, "and the Sword of Salvation," he gestured to the one with the blue gemstone. "These weapons channeled my bloodlust, allowing me to go months, even years, without being overcome by the demons."

Jean interjected, "But, sir, I experienced the same thing Bruce did, and I feel nothing like what you're describing."

Ra's nodded. "You had taken a life before, Mr. Valley. Mr. Kyle and I had not. I do not fully understand the workings of the demons, but I know that they will eventually come for you as well. This is why I want you to take the weapons, to channel your rage and strength, to save those you love, like I was not."

Bruce glared at Ra's. "What aren't you telling me?"

Ra's sighed heavily. "Selina is in danger, Bruce. Those people she went with are called the Court of Owls. They have been manipulating her for months on end. When they are done with her, they will dispose of her, just as they did her parents."

"I don't believe you," Bruce snarled.

"The woman she met with at the party was named Kathryn Monroe. She is the most influential and dangerous person in the world. Her organization has one goal: complete domination. They don't care who they hurt. They were the people who killed me, Bruce, millennia ago, in order to stop a prophecy from being fulfilled, a prophecy that you must carry out."

Bruce sat back, stunned. "You want me to take your place."

"You must," Ra's insisted, seeming truly desperate and vulnerable for the first time. "Or everything you know will be destroyed."

Bruce was hesitant to trust anything Ra's said. For the past year, all Ra's had wanted was for him to be right here, to agree to become the next Demon's Head. This all seemed too convenient.

"Prove it," Bruce muttered. "Prove to me that what you say about Selina is true, and I will join you."

Ra's nodded. "And when you do, you will become the greatest warrior the world has ever known."

Bruce shook his head. "I don't want that. I just want to protect Selina."

"And protect Selina Wayne you shall. Of that I promise."

Selina walked through the maze of hallways of the Court's headquarters. Even with the map they had given her, she had a hard time getting where she wanted to go.

After twenty minutes of wandering, she managed to get into the meeting room where she had been inducted into the Court. Alfred was waiting for her, staring intensely at the smoldering flames in the fireplace.

She tugged on his sleeve. He gave a small nod. "Good morning, Miss Wayne," he said quietly, his eyes never moving from the flames.

"Good morning, Alfred," she responded, just as quietly. "Did you sleep well?"

He shook his head. "No, I didn't."

She glanced around the room. Light streamed in through the grand, ornate window. It was such a sharp contrast to her first visit in this room when Kathryn had abducted her in the middle of the night, only a few months prior. This time, there were no shadows for Talon to hide in.

"Did you find what you are looking for?" Alfred asked in a whisper.

She shook her head. "No, not yet. I need time."

"You must move quickly, Miss Wayne," he advised.

"I'm trying, Alfred. Just trust me, please."

"I do trust you," he sighed. "If I didn't trust you we wouldn't be here. But these people are not to be trifled with. They…"

He trailed off. She knew what he was gonna say. They had been involved with her parents' deaths, whether they'd been killed by an enemy of the Court or if it had been the Court themselves who had ordered the hit.

"I know, Alfred. I just need time."

He nodded. "Very well, but we must return to the Manor eventually. You have a day or two at the most."

"I'll find him, Alfred. Don't worry," she assured him.

He scoffed. "You finding what you're looking for is what worries me. Now, shall we join Kathryn for breakfast?"

She nodded and they trailed off down the hallway.

They entered the small dining hall that played host to many of the Court's less official meetings, as well as acting as a dining room for those staying in the Court's headquarters. Kathryn had insisted that they join her for breakfast the night prior, yet she was nowhere to be seen.

Selina wandered off down another hallway while Alfred asked the staff where Kathryn was. She heard shouting and quickened her pace, reaching the door and planting her ear up against it.

She didn't catch much, just flurries of words. "The boy…one of ours...Assassins…killed…Lazarus Pit" Selina tried to piece it all together, but the only full sentence she heard was a man who had previously yelled stating, "I'm sorry, Kathryn, but there is nothing we can do."

Footsteps rapidly approached the doorway where she was hidden, and Selina managed to scramble back several feet before it was ripped open. She walked towards it, faking surprise at the sudden exit of several people. They ignored her, marching down the hallway. She took a deep breath and started back towards the dining hall.

"Selina, dear, please come in," Kathryn called, stopping Selina in her tracks.

She took a deep breath and walked into the room. It was small and cozy, a large bookshelf covering the wall behind Kathryn's desk. Kathryn didn't try to put on a façade of happiness, or even normalcy. She looked legitimately worried.

"Good morning, Miss Wayne," she greeted solemnly. "I take it you heard all of that?"

Selina sat down in one of the two comfy chairs adjacent to the desk, noting that they were low enough to the ground that Kathryn, even in her wheelchair, was looking down on her. She nodded. "I caught bits and pieces…what happened?"

Kathryn sighed and sat back, staring up at the ceiling for a moment. "A child stole something of mine and delivered it to our greatest enemy. A group of Talon were dispatched to retrieve it, but…alas."

A pit formed in Selina's stomach. "This boy…" she started warily. "Who was he?"

"Not Bruce, I assure you," Kathryn responded, knowing what she was asking. "But, it was one of your friends, Mr. Jean-Paul Valley?"

The blood rushed out of Selina's face. "What happened? What did he steal?"

Kathryn countered with her own question. "Selina, what did you learn when you met the Talon at Pinewood Farms?" Selina paled even more and Kathryn shook her head, assuring her, "If I did not want you to meet him, you wouldn't have. I knew you were going to investigate us, whether we threatened you or not. Now, what did you learn from him?"

Selina swallowed. "Well, he seemed…"

"To be decaying? Rotting? No sense of time?" Kathryn answered. "Yes, Selina, the Talon you met took his first post in 1843. He has been moved around from station to station wherever we need a Talon, his most recent of which was guarding the abandoned Pinewood Farms facility."

"So…how is he still alive?" Selina asked. "I mean, I saw his chamber and everything, but…how?"

Kathryn nodded, staring at the wall as if deep in thought. "Selina, did you ever read the story of Lazarus?" Selina shook her head. "He was a friend of Christ who died. Three days after his death, the Bible claims that Jesus raised him from the dead, returning him to the land of the living. In the face of that story, the question becomes: how did he do it? How can one cheat the grip of death?"

Selina shook her head. "But, you said it was only a story."

She nodded. "Whether you believe it to be true or not, death is unpleasant. The chambers that hold the Talon preserve them, sometimes for several centuries, but our practice is inherently flawed. If a Talon dies in battle, we have no way of bringing them back. We have to find new candidates, train them all over again. It is truly a bothersome process, and one that we hope to find a way to avoid."

"Ok, so what does that have to do with what Jean stole?"

"Everything, Selina. The Assassins hold the key to conquering death. It is why, even with their lack of strength and wealth and numbers and organization, they have survived us all this time. One of our ancestors stole a fragment of that cure, the water from what the Assassins call the Lazarus Pit, and froze it. For centuries we have been trying to understand how to replicate the liquid, but with no avail. The Assassins horde this life-saving liquid to themselves, no matter how many millions die around them, no matter the sacrifices they have to make in order to protect it from the hands of those who would use it for good."

"You," Selina assumed, almost mockingly.

Kathryn sighed. "I know you do not trust me, Selina. I respect it, in fact. However, there is a larger conflict besides us, much greater than us. It is a conflict between Order and Chaos, one that will define the world for the next millennia. And it all surrounds Bruce Kyle."

Selina shot up out of her seat, her hand instinctively drifting to where her knife was normally stashed away. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

Kathryn didn't flinch, didn't ask her to sit down. She barely acknowledged her hostility at all. "Selina, Bruce is being tricked by the League of Assassins. Ra's al Ghul ordered Mr. Valley to steal the Lazarus Water from us that our wrath might come down upon him. He wants war, chaos, rivers blood running through the streets. He wants Bruce Kyle on his side, and sacrificing Mr. Valley was his means of doing so."

"But what does Bruce have to do with any of this?" Selina demanded.

"Specifically? I do not know. All I know is that Bruce is in danger, and it is up to you to save him. It is up to us to save him."

Selina clenched her teeth. On some level, she knew Kathryn was telling the truth. Yet, she had to be holding something back. She'd dodged the question as to why Bruce was so integral to the League's plot. She'd have to look into that…

In the meantime, Bruce was, truly, in danger. She couldn't just sit back and do nothing. And if the Court could help her, help him, then wasn't it her job to protect him the same way he had protected her? She didn't trust these people, but they were her only hope right now.

Selina nodded. "I will do whatever is asked of me. I'll play nice. But only as long as you promise to help me save Bruce."

"Miss Wayne, I promise you, saving Bruce Kyle is all I want to do."

Bruce slowly opened his eyes, reveling in the fantastic night's sleep he had just had. No nightmares, no bloodthirsty spirits, no nothing. He noticed the sword in his hand, the one with the yellow gemstone. It was odd, he'd been drawn to the other sword, the Sword of Salvation. Yet, Ra's insisted that the Sword of Sin was the one he was destined to wield. As for the Sword of Salvation, Ra's had bestowed it upon Jean, who also seemed to be drawn to its opposite. Ra's claimed that, by returning the blade to the bloodline of Azrael, he had fulfilled the promise he had made to the great warrior centuries prior.

He rolled out of bed, equipping the scabbard on his nightstand (which hadn't been there the night before) and sheathing the Sword of Sin. He'd trained with swords and other weapons throughout the last summer while he trained with Ra's. The swords he had used had felt natural in his hand, like an extension of his body.

This one felt different. Wrong.

Ra's had explained to he and Jean the special aspects of the two weapons, how the Sword of Salvation would purify (kill) those of with wickedness in their hearts, and the Sword of Sin would taint (kill) those without.

When the warrior Azrael used them together, he purged civilizations at will, culling the good, the bad, and the neutral alike.

Bruce didn't know how he felt about that. He was thankful for the weapon relieving his bloodlust, but he also knew it was only a matter of time before he was forced to use that same weapon to kill.

He had to figure a way out of this.

He knew what Ra's wanted. He wanted Bruce to become his successor, the next Demon's Head.

Obviously, Bruce wouldn't do it, bloodlust or not.

But, if what Ra's had told him about the Court of Owls was true, if it had been their soldiers that had killed both he and Jean, he couldn't get to Selina without the League.

He felt trapped, backed into a corner where all of his options were bad ones.

But he had picked one. This was it. He'd go along with what Ra's wanted, he'd train, get stronger, prepare for the coming war.

There was a light knock on his door. "Bruce?" Talia asked from the other side.

"It's open," he called back.

"You got a call," she told him, holding up a cell phone. "From your brother."

He furrowed his brow. "What did he need?"

She shook her head. "I didn't ask, although he did sound concerned when I picked up instead of you."

He smirked and nodded. "Well thanks anyways." He held it up to his ear and asked, "Ted? You there?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here," Ted said dismissively. "Who was that?"

"A friend," Bruce told him. "What's up?" he asked, trying to divert the conversation.

"That's what I was gonna ask you. Ramirez told me he saw you in the station yesterday. Is everything okay?"

Bruce wanted to say yes, but it wasn't true. He hesitated, and then told Ted, "I'm safe. I'll come by the Gym soon if you want to see for yourself."

"Yeah, you should," Ted agreed. "You're only sixteen, you know. Dad gets worried sometimes."

"Tell him he shouldn't," Bruce dismissed, sitting down on his bed with a sigh.

Ted scoffed. "That's not how that works, bud. You're just a kid, you shouldn't be off living on your own all the time."

"I'm safe," Bruce assured him.

"Yeah, you said that already," Ted replied. "Where are you?"

Bruce paused. "I can't tell you that right now, but I promise I'll come see you and dad sometime soon."

Ted huffed in frustration, and then took a deep breath. "You know you can always call me right? If you need me I'll be there, with or without a squad of cops depending on the situation."

Bruce smiled. "Yeah, I know. I'll see you around."

He hung up and let his arm slump back down onto the bed.

There was another knock at the door. He glanced over and saw that Talia was back.

"You okay?" she asked, tentatively.

He shrugged, sitting back up. "Yeah, I guess." He noticed that she looked significantly paler than she had when she'd dropped off the phone. "Are you okay?"

She clenched her jaw. "The Court sent a messenger. They want to Parley. Tonight."

A/N: Dun-dun-dunnnnnn. Hey everyone, hope you're doing well, wherever you are in the world. With recent events being as serious as they are and quarantine in full swing where I am, I'll hopefully be able to put out the next few chapters relatively quickly. I won't lie, I've lost a lot of momentum on this series, and writing as a whole, in recent months. School is a lot, but it's becoming easier now that everything is online. Now that I actually sat down and wrote the chapter, I'm really excited to keep going, so I'm actually gonna start the next one right after I publish this, so hopefully it'll be up relatively soon (but no promises, especially depending on how the next month or so goes in regards to the pandemic).

With all that said, I hope you enjoyed and, if you did, make sure to let me know. What do you guys think is gonna happen next? Thanks for reading, and ciao for now!

Also, I've thought about doing a smaller project where I rewrite the plotline for how Gotham would've been handled by a company like HBO or something like that. It sounds really fun and it'll give me a reason to go back and watch the whole series again, which I've been wanting to do anyways. If you're interested, please let me know. I may post a Chapter Zero where I talk about my ideas for the project and ask for your feedback before finally writing it. Anyways, let me know what you think and keep a lookout. I'll further update you on my plans in the next chapter's bottom author's note.