Tonight marks the beginning of something new. I stand at the edge of an Oscorp satellite building's roof, forty stories above Manhattan, the incomplete Batman Beyond suit hugging my body like a second skin.
Tonight is different. Tonight is the beginning.
Tonight was the night...
The suit isn't finished, not by a long shot. But functional enough for this first outing. Rudimentary wings extend from my arms to my torso, allowing for controlled gliding rather than the powered flight I eventually want. But there's no AI system yet, no integrated weapons beyond basic "batarangs," and the stealth systems are barely functional.
Still, it's enough for tonight's mission—a deliberate soft launch into New York's criminal ecosystem. I need to test the suit's capabilities in real conditions, establish Batman's presence gradually, and most importantly, learn my own limits.
I take a deep breath, feeling the filtered air flow through the mask's respiratory system. The heads-up display flickers with information: suit integrity at 94%, power systems at full capacity, communications online but passive. Everything functioning within acceptable parameters.
Time to begin.
I step off the ledge into empty space, allowing gravity to claim me for precisely three seconds before firing the grappling system built into the suit's right gauntlet. The sensation is different from web-swinging—more controlled, less organic, but equally effective. The line catches, carbon-fiber cord extending and retracting with precision as I navigate between buildings.
My thoughts drift briefly to earlier this evening, to another life that seems increasingly distant from this atypical existence.
The life of Harry Osborn.
____________________________
"You're late, Osborn," MJ said, not looking up from her notebook as I slid into the seat across from her at the campus coffee shop. "Good thing I already ordered your pretentious pour-over."
"Emergency board meeting," I replied, which wasn't entirely untrue. The meeting had ended two hours ago, but the suit calibrations afterward couldn't be rushed. "Thanks for the coffee."
She finally looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly as they always did when she was trying to read me. "You look tired. If being rich is that taxing, I'll pass?"
"Funny." I took a sip of the coffee, genuinely appreciating both the caffeine and MJ's unexpected thoughtfulness in ordering for me. "Where's Peter?"
"Bailed. Some internship application deadline he forgot about." She closed her notebook, giving me her full attention. "So it's just us to go over Dr. Foster's quantum theories. Unless you've got more Oscorp stuff about to conveniently pop up?"
There was an edge to her question that caught me off guard. It wasn't the first time I'd had to cut our study sessions short, and MJ wasn't the type to ignore patterns.
"No emergencies tonight," I promised. "Full attention on quantum entanglement and..." I glanced at her notebook, "adaptive dimensional barriers? That wasn't covered in Foster's presentation."
MJ's expression shifted to something I couldn't quite read. "It's my own extrapolation of her theories. If quantum particles can maintain instantaneous connection regardless of distance, then theoretically, that connection could extend across dimensional barriers—assuming they exist."
"You believe in parallel dimensions?" I asked, genuinely curious about her thoughts given my "unique" perspective.
"I believe in not dismissing possibilities just because they sound like science fiction." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly self-conscious. "Anyway, it's just a thought experiment."
"It's brilliant," I said honestly. "You should pursue it."
MJ looked surprised, then pleased, a slight flush coloring her cheeks. "Careful, Osborn. Genuine intellectual engagement is dangerously close to being attractive."
The comment hung in the air between us, neither of us quite sure how to navigate the sudden shift in energy. In my previous life, I would have fumbled this moment. But Harry Osborn—at least my version of him—was more confident.
"I'll have to be more careful then," I replied with a slight smile. "Wouldn't want to risk being accidentally charming."
She laughed, the tension breaking. "Too late. Now explain to me why you suddenly care about quantum physics when six months ago you couldn't tell a quark from a quasar."
"We all change," I said, the simple truth behind my complex situation.
"So I'm noticing," MJ responded, her eyes holding mine a moment longer than necessary. "It's a good look on you, Harry. The caring about things."
The rest of the evening passed in a blend of genuine scientific discussion and increasingly comfortable banter. MJ's intelligence was honestly remarkable. More than once, I found myself forgetting about Batman, about Norman, about the weight of everything I know. Everything, I carry—just enjoying the connection with someone who saw and appreciated the person I was becoming.
When we finally packed up, the coffee shop closing around us, MJ hesitated at the door. "We should do this again. Without Peter." She immediately backtracked. "I mean, not that I don't want Peter around, but sometimes his enthusiasm is—"
"I know what you mean," I said, saving her from the explanation. "And yes, we should."
"Cool." She nodded, seemingly satisfied with keeping things casual. "Just don't ghost me for another Oscorp crisis. K?"
"Wouldn't dream of it," I promised, even as my phone vibrated in my pocket with an alert about the suit's final calibration sequence completing.
As we parted ways, MJ called after me: "Hey, Osborn? Whatever's driving this new version of you—keep it up. It works."
Heh, If she only knew.
_____________________________________
The memory dissolves as my attention snaps back to the present. My enhanced hearing has picked up sounds of distress three blocks east—raised voices, a demand for money, the unmistakable click of a handgun's safety being disengaged.
I adjust my trajectory, the suit's systems mapping the most efficient path to the disturbance. Within thirty seconds, I'm directly above an alley where two men have cornered a couple against a brick wall. The scenario is depressingly predictable—opportunistic predators targeting victims leaving a restaurant, likely chosen for their expensive clothes and watches.
"Gimme your Wallet and jewelry. Now. Hurry the Fuck up!" The taller mugger gestures with his gun while his partner holds a knife.
Time to test the suit's intimidation capabilities.
I drop silently into the alley behind them, the suit's impact absorption technology negating any sound from my landing. At full height, the Batman Beyond silhouette is deliberately imposing—the pointed ears of the cowl adding height, the chest emblem subtly enhanced to suggest greater mass, the glowing white eyes designed specifically to trigger primal fear responses.
"Hey dipshit," I say, the suit's voice modulator adding a deep, electronic edge to my words.
The muggers whirl, weapons rising instinctively toward the new threat. Their expressions shift from anger to confusion to fear in rapid succession.
"What the hell—"
The sentence remains unfinished as I move, crossing the distance between us faster than untrained eyes can track. The gun is my first priority. I grip the mugger's wrist with carefully modulated strength—enough to force him to drop the weapon but not enough to shatter bone. The knife-wielder slashes wildly in my direction, the blade scraping harmlessly against the suit's enhanced material.
I disable them with efficient precision—a strike to the solar plexus for one, a sweep of the legs for the other. No wasted movement, no excessive force. Just enough to neutralize the threat without causing permanent injury. The time will come, but for now...
Practice makes perfect.
Within seconds, both muggers are unconscious, their weapons secured. The couple stares at me with wide eyes, fear mixing with gratitude in equal measure.
"Call the police," I tell them, my modulated voice deliberately inhuman. "Tell them what happened."
"Who...what the fuck are you?" the man manages, his trembling hand already reaching for his phone.
You have no idea how badly I wanted to say 'I'm Batman', but I don't answer, instead firing my grappling line upward and disappearing into the darkness above. No need for introductions yet.
Let the mythology build organically through encounters and rumors. Why, because that's fucking awesome.
For the next three hours, I patrol a ten-block radius, intervening in two muggings, stopping a car theft, and helping direct emergency services to a small apartment fire before it can spread. Each encounter was more data on the suit's performance and my ability to modulate my enhanced strength appropriately. I was going to perfect this, It was non-negotiable.
The pattern is consistent—the technology functions admirably, but controlling my spider-strength through the suit's systems requires more finesse than I anticipated. Twice more I use excessive force, leaving perpetrators with injuries more severe than intended. Not life-threatening, but definitely beyond the necessary minimum.
It's a problem I'll need to solve if Batman is to represent the kind of justice I personally envision—firm but measured, intimidating but not totally brutal. Case by case brutality is fine by me. I'm not naïve, just rational.
Around 2 AM, another system failure occurs—more significant this time. The suit's right gauntlet locks up mid-swing, nearly causing me to lose grip on my web line. I manage to recover and land safely on a nearby roof, but the malfunction is concerning. The heads-up display shows cascading errors in the power distribution system.
Time to call it a night.
.....
I make my way back to the Cave. The main lights activate automatically as I enter, illuminating what would be unrecognizable as the abandoned government facility I discovered months ago. Computer systems line one wall, their displays showing scrolling data from monitoring programs tracking everything from police frequencies to Oscorp internal communications. A fabrication area occupies another section, specialized equipment salvaged and modified from various sources creating components for my evolving arsenal. The center features a raised platform where an improved version of the suit stands in a specialized containment unit, still under construction but already incorporating lessons from earlier prototypes.
I remove the damaged suit, the material releasing with a hydraulic hiss as seals disengage. The weight lifts from my shoulders—both literally and figuratively. For a few hours, I wasn't Harry Osborn at all. I felt, alive.
I wonder if Tony went through a similar trial and error process. Being a vigilante ain't easy.
Speaking of Stark, my security systems alert me to another attempted intrusion into my private networks. The third this week. The attack signature is sophisticated, probing for vulnerabilities with an AI assistance that screams Stark Industries.
Tony is getting curious about Harry Osborn's extracurricular activities.
This time, I was ready. Never again bitch.
I activate the countermeasures I've developed specifically for Stark's probing—a combination of modified Oscorp security protocols and techniques from my previous life in IT. The system doesn't just block his attempts; it feeds back carefully crafted false data, creating a digital façade that should satisfy his initial curiosity without revealing anything genuinely sensitive. I might even send him a rickroll once in a while.
Hah, get fucked Tony.
As the computers run their diagnostics, I move to the medical area to examine the cuts and bruises I've accumulated despite the suit's protection. My enhanced healing is already addressing the injuries, but proper treatment will speed the process.
While applying antiseptic to a laceration on my forearm, my gaze drifts to a secure terminal displaying ongoing research projects—including one labeled "Erskine Initiative."
The spider powers have given me abilities far beyond normal humans, but they're still limited compared to what they could be. The Super Soldier Serum represents a different approach to enhancement—one that might complement my existing abilities if properly adapted.
Would further enhancing myself represent responsible use of my knowledge and resources? Or would it be a step toward the kind of power-seeking that corrupts Norman and so many others in this universe?
It would also enhance my intelligence, that is a MUST have in this universe.
Decisions, decisions. That's a choice for another day, right now the first step is what matters the most.
On one of the auxiliary screens, a local news channel has already picked up the story, the anchor's voice carrying through the cave's audio system:
"...multiple reports of what witnesses describe as a 'bat-like figure' moving through Manhattan tonight. Police have confirmed several thwarted crimes where perpetrators were found restrained or incapacitated by unknown means. Social media is already speculating about a new vigilante in the city that some are calling 'The Batman'..."
The Batman. They're already using the name, even without seeing the symbol or knowing my intentions. Some memes transcend universes, it seems.
That's actually me now, what a world to live in.