[Comprehensive British and American] Bats never lose their horses

After Strange finished speaking, he waved his hand violently, and the bat mite screamed and was sucked into a golden vortex.

Bruce's frown deepened.

"Where did you throw him?" he demanded.

"Where he should be." Strange replied vaguely, "Now, let's talk about your problem."

"Can you restore my memory?"

"It's ok, but I triggered some other... very bad things during the casting process," Strange said with the corners of his mouth down, his expression staring a little anxiously, "I've been observing this world for a long time, and I still can't figure out what the problem is. , until the bat mite came here, I didn't understand that there was a slight overlap between the dimensions. Do you know what this means?"

Bruce shook his head unconsciously.

"It means that people from other parallel worlds are likely to invade this world, or just like you did before, have memories that don't belong to you." Strange said, "It's bad, very bad, but luckily it was discovered. In time, it can be remedied.”

He didn't look at Bruce when he spoke, but kept staring into the corner, talking nervously to himself.

After a few seconds, he suddenly raised his head and asked the man in front of him, "Are you sure you want to restore your memory? As a connection point of dimensions, once you restore your memory about Batman, as time goes by, the degree of sinking will only decrease." Deeper and deeper."

Bruce: "Sounds bad."

"That's right," Strange said lightly, "This means that your spirit must be tough and strong enough to resist the invasion from the parallel world. Otherwise, you will become a lunatic sooner or later."

Bruce remembered the rumors he'd heard in Gotham this week.

Batman has been around in Gotham for over a decade, but by all accounts, he's been getting crazier lately.

His strikes are ruthless and merciless, and every criminal who is branded by him and sent to prison will become dying and end up in an extremely miserable end.

Even Gordon, the director of GCPD, is very worried about the current state of this comrade who has fought side by side for more than ten years.

Bruce thinks it's because Batman lost his Robin, or a side effect from the long-term inhibitor injections, just like it was written in that notebook.But now he finally understood why Bat-Mite was so excited to pit him against Superman—

Just like if one day Superman falls, Batman must be the first to stand up against him;

If one day Batman gets out of control, the only person who is qualified and able to stand up and kill him is Kal-El.

They are the best team in the world.

It is also the shackles and bottom line that bind each other.

Looking at the dark night outside the window, Bruce thought of the string of pearl necklaces scattered in the alley again.

If he was just Bruce Wayne, then he would be the richest playboy in Gotham, an Omega loved and sought after by countless people, and maybe doing charity once in a while would make people all over the world praise him; and if he chooses to be Batman will face endless night, enemies and blood, and a dawn that he doesn't even know will come.

"It seems that my choice is obvious." Bruce withdrew his gaze, his blue eyes slightly curved.

"—let 'him' come back."

Strangely, Strange's originally anxious expression gradually calmed down.

He didn't seem to doubt that Bruce would make such a decision.

"Close your eyes." He stretched out his hand and pressed Bruce's forehead, "When you wake up, everything will be as you wish."

"Good luck, knight."

early morning.

Superman yawned and walked into the watchtower. He rubbed his eyes and was about to pour himself a cup of coffee when he looked up and saw the familiar black figure.

He took a breath, and then opened his eyes wide in surprise: "B! You are finally back!"

Clark's fingertips moved slightly, almost exhausting all his self-control so that he could not let himself rush over to give Batman a big hug, but just seeing the big blue man flying around Batman several times like a satellite, It was enough to understand how excited he was right now.

The corners of Batman's mouth flattened after a brief rise: "Yes, I'm back. There's a meeting at nine, Carl, I think we need to have a good talk about what you've been doing in Gotham during this time."

Clark gave a big smile. "Okay B! Would you like some coffee?"

Unexpected response.

Batman was silent for a moment, then nodded: "Trouble."

Superman made a happy response, and was busy in the watchtower like a little bee. Batman took the coffee, thanked him, and inserted a USB drive into the public computer of the watchtower.

"What's this, B?" Clark asked curiously, poking his head over.

"Artificial intelligence," Batman replied, "imitates my thinking, so that the next time I'm not around, I can respond in time—"

"Why?" Clark frowned, "B, I was just like saying, you can't keep telling us nothing and take it on your own. We're a team! I don't want some goddamn Batman artificial intelligence, Listen clearly, there is no, anything, anything in this world that can replace your existence!"

Batman paused as he typed on the keyboard.

Through the eyepiece, Bruce quietly stared at the handsome Alpha floating beside him. The softness and dependence in Omega's nature were clamoring for him to hug the Son of the Sun in front of him, confess everything to him, and completely rely on him.

He cares about you, said a voice in your ear, kiss him, tell him who you are.

Superman wouldn't say no.

Clark was discouraged after speaking in high decibels.

Rao, he thought bitterly, to talk to B like that when he just came back from his recovery!

Superman puffed out his chest, pretending to be the chairman of the alliance, but he almost pulled out his hair in regret.

But soon, he discovered to his horror that Batman actually laughed!

"B, I was wrong, I was wrong," Clark panicked instantly, and the momentum just now was swept away, "Don't be angry, I...I just care about your body..."

"I know."

Clark calmed down.

He smiles, thinking detachedly: No, this can't be Batman.

Bruce: "..."

"Shut down the stupid expression on your face," Batman hit the Enter key heavily, and threatened with a throat cancer, "There is still 15 minutes for the meeting. Before that, prepare your speech, Your Excellency."

Clark let out a long breath, and that's right.

"It'll be right away, B." He promised, "I'll call you when the time comes. Oh, by the way, everyone misses you very much. The Flash also said that he would hold a recovery party for you in the watchtower, so that you Bat-shaped pizza themed—"

"Don't even think about it," Batman said immediately.

"That's what I told him." Superman cleared his throat, rejoicing that he had guessed what his partner was thinking. "Then you are busy."

After speaking, he floated away happily.

There is a faint Alpha breath floating in the air, not only Superman's, most superheroes are powerful Alphas.

Batman took a deep breath, trying to reaccustom himself to being surrounded by Alphas.

He packed up his things and was about to leave for the meeting room when the mobile phone in his universal belt vibrated suddenly.

Bruce frowned.

He closed the command room first, then looked at "Tony" displayed on the screen, and pressed the answer button.

"Hello?" Batman sat on the seat with no expression on his face, and asked with a hazy voice as if he had just woken up from a dream, "What's the matter, Tony? It's only past eight o'clock..."

"Bruce, come to Star City!" Tony's voice was unprecedentedly urgent, mixed with uncontrollable excitement, "Oliver is back!"

Bruce's eyes widened.

"...what?"

At twelve noon, Bruce arrived at Star City.

"Bruce, you're too dawdling," Tony complained standing in front of Quinn's mansion with his pocket in his pocket, "I'm not those female companions at your banquet, no one can let Tony Stark wait for someone!"

Bruce hurried in from the gate, his hair was still in the hurricane shape blown by the helicopter, he was combing with his hands and apologizing: "OK, OK, it's my fault, when you called this morning I thought I'm dreaming—where's Oliver?"

"The bedroom upstairs." Talking about their common childhood, Tony's face looked a little complicated.

Bruce couldn't help but get serious, but he quickly remembered that such a stern look didn't fit on a dude's face, and it only took a second for it to turn into normal concern: "What's wrong with Oliver? Is he okay?"

"He's fine, but..." Tony sighed, "I've heard from his family that Oliver has changed, a lot. Anyway, let's go and talk to him."

But when Bruce really saw Oliver himself, he realized how much Tony said "changed a lot".

The moment he saw the familiar yet unfamiliar Fa Xiao, the vigilant nerves in his body that belonged to Batman immediately tensed up.

Something is wrong, he thought, very wrong.

Oliver's family may only feel that he has become more silent, but as Iron Man and Oliver's younger brother, Tony can see more details, and his usual contact with S.H.I.E.L.D. agents can also tell him in the dark. Something is not quite right.

As for Bruce, who is proficient in more than 100 fighting techniques and even went to the League of Assassins alone...

The moment they opened the bedroom door, he noticed Oliver standing by the window.

The man turned around almost instantly, facing them in a posture that looked very relaxed, but was actually ready to attack or escape through the window at any time.

This kind of knee-jerk reaction, Bruce has only seen in well-trained killers.

And the stern eyes that were unintentionally exposed in just a second, all of which showed that the situation was worse than he had imagined.

Seeing the two of them, Oliver twitched the corners of his mouth, revealing a not-so-enthusiastic but very sincere smile.

"Tony, Bruce," he strode over, opened his arms, and hugged them into his arms, "Long time no see... In the past few years, I really miss you all the time."

Tony patted him on the back and sighed, "Just come back."

Being hugged by his friend, Bruce's heart sank.

He has killed people.

Hell, he thought to himself, Oliver has been missing for so many years, shouldn't he be living on a deserted island?