Chapter 56: The Seriously Injured Batman

Gotham is a city perpetually shrouded in gloom. Even during the day, gray clouds often hung heavy, casting a dreary, lifeless atmosphere over the bustling metropolis.

Adam Wayne glanced up at the overcast sky through the windows of his lab, shaking his head. “Typical Gotham,” he muttered before diving back into his work. His research was nearing completion, and the single-dimensional energy manipulator was finally taking shape. He felt a surge of excitement as he worked through the finishing touches.

However, his focus was abruptly interrupted when Alfred entered the lab, supporting a visibly injured Bruce Wayne. What shocked Adam even more was that Bruce was still wearing his bat armor, his steps unsteady as Alfred practically carried him forward.

“Grandpa Alfred, what happened?” Adam asked, frowning as he rushed to help Alfred guide Bruce to the scanning equipment.

Alfred shook his head with a worried expression. “I don’t know, Master Wayne. I found him in this state this morning. He must’ve gone out last night on one of his… outings.”

As Adam helped Bruce onto the scanner, his hands recoiled at the touch of the armor. It was unnaturally cold, as if Bruce had been encased in ice. A quick glance confirmed that his body was covered in frostbite, and his temperature was alarmingly low.

Jason grimaced. “What kind of opponent did you face, Bruce?” he murmured, inspecting the frozen armor now fused to Bruce’s skin. “Skynet, initiate life support mode and begin administering a nutrient solution. Gradually increase his body temperature.”

As the machines whirred to life, Alfred looked on, deeply concerned. “Will Master Bruce be alright?” he asked, glancing at Adam as he removed his heavy gloves.

Adam nodded reassuringly. “He’ll be fine, Grandpa Alfred. The situation looks worse than it is.”

Inside, however, Adam was uneasy. This wasn’t a standard injury—Bruce had clearly encountered an opponent unlike anything they’d seen before. His injuries bore signs of exposure to extreme cold, well beyond natural levels.

“Skynet,” Adam said after a moment of thought, “contact Dr. Connors and have him bring the latest version of the Desperate Potion.”

The Desperate Potion, the rebranded name for Extremis, was their trump card. The ultimate version could heal catastrophic injuries and strengthen the recipient’s body, though its effects were carefully balanced to avoid overuse.

Dr. Connors arrived swiftly, carrying a portable cryogenic case. He was visibly startled upon noticing the patient. “Batman?” he blurted out, his eyes darting toward Adam for confirmation.

Adam raised a hand to stop him. “Doctor, the identity of the patient isn’t important. What matters is that we help him. Did you bring the potion?”

Connors nodded quickly, placing the case on a nearby counter and extracting a small vial containing a pale yellow liquid. With practiced precision, he loaded it into the injection system connected to Bruce’s IV. The solution flowed into Bruce’s veins alongside the nutrient mixture.

“Now we wait,” Connors said, wiping sweat from his brow.

Time ticked by as Connors and Alfred monitored Bruce’s vitals. Half an hour later, the readings began to stabilize. Connors let out a relieved sigh. “Mr. Wayne, the patient’s physical signs have normalized. He just needs rest now.”

Adam clapped the doctor on the shoulder. “Good work, Dr. Connors. You’ve saved his life. You can return to the lab for now.”

Connors hesitated, his expression tense. “You’re sure I won’t—”

Adam cut him off with a chuckle. “I’m not going to kill you to keep you quiet, Doctor. Relax.”

Connors chuckled nervously, clearly unconvinced. “Thank you, Mr. Wayne,” he stammered, before making a hasty exit.

Adam shook his head as he watched him go. “Scientists… so smart, yet so paranoid,” he muttered to himself.

He turned his attention back to Bruce, whose breathing had steadied. “Whoever did this to you, Bruce, I’ll find them,” Adam said quietly. “And I’ll make sure they regret it.”

Alfred stood by silently, his face a mix of gratitude and concern. Despite his stoic demeanor, he gently placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Thank you, Master Adam. You’ve done more than I could’ve asked for.”

Adam nodded, his jaw tightening. “Rest easy, Alfred. We’ll handle this.”