The day had arrived—finally, the moment to take the super soldier serum and set in motion the first step of the grand plan to, well, let's just say "dominate the world." Admittedly, my initiation into world conquest was neither elegant nor subtle, but there's no turning back now. This day was far too important for regrets. Pamela and Kavita were already preparing for a late-night celebration, their excitement palpable. I, for my part, had hardly lounged around waiting for fate to come knocking. Instead, I headed straight to the Gotham Bat, drawn by a promise of an illuminating spectacle—or, more precisely, a capsule suffused with beta rays.

Just as Steve Rogers had been injected with serum and exposed to beta radiation, accelerating his transformation and dulling the pain of the enhancement process, my procedure, too, would involve live beta radiation. The combination was essential; laboratory studies demonstrated that beta radiation invigorated cellular growth and dramatically multiplied the serum's effects. Bruce Banner once speculated that gamma radiation could be substituted, but history proved otherwise. Gamma destabilized the underlying formula and, tragically, Banner's trial ended with the Hulk rampaging across the city. Thankfully, my scientists, ever vigilant, anticipated such pitfalls and designed a capsule to emit precisely calibrated beta radiation. Batman himself led the capsule's engineering design, while Pamela and Cavito worked meticulously in their own laboratory to assemble the serum.

As luck—or perhaps fate—would have it, the device I required now rested squarely within the domain of the Dark Knight. And so, compelled by necessity and ambition, I sought out Gotham's legendary protector to claim what was promised. Regrettably, the transfer proved anything but straightforward. Negotiations faltered, leaving disappointment in their wake.

"Alex, your impulses are too impulsive," Batman admonished, arms folded with an unmistakable air of concern. "The serum hasn't undergone proper tests or trials. You rely too much on your gut; reasoning should guide your decisions—not feelings."

"Wise words, Reverend Batman," I replied, unable to suppress a wry smile as I examined the finished capsule. "Normally, I'd listen, but time isn't exactly on our side."

"You're talking about the League of Shadows?" Bruce pressed.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to stop them," I shook my head, my tone grim. "I have a rough idea of when they'll strike, and odds are, you won't be there when it happens. But don't worry. I'm preparing for battle. This time, I intend to play the biggest game of my life. Ra's al Ghul loves chess… I plan to deliver a checkmate."

The chess metaphor resonated; Ra's al Ghul wasn't just an immortal leader, but a formidable grandmaster whose centuries of experience elevated him far above mortal competitors. It was rumored that only three had ever defeated him: Bruce Wayne, the Joker, and Bane. Understanding that, one can't help but feel both surprise and respect for those rare minds capable of outwitting the Demon's Head.

"So, the super soldier serum is part of your strategy for the League of Shadows?" Bruce deduced.

"Exactly," I confirmed, my hand resting atop the capsule's gleaming surface. "With your permission, I'd like to take the device now."

Before I finished speaking, the capsule vanished from Bruce's desk. There was no need to guess where it had gone. Batman made no move to stop me. On the contrary, he expressed a wish to accompany me to Babylon—to personally witness the reckless experiment.

"Bruce, you realize Poison Ivy's working there now?" I cautioned. "She's been one of your deadliest adversaries. Don't you think she'd be… less than thrilled to see you?"

"That's why I'll go as Bruce Wayne, not Batman," he responded. "I've worked with Pamela and Kavita on this project, and they still don't know who contributed to the serum's development. It's time to lift the veil of secrecy. Besides, I'm responsible for you, Alex. If something goes wrong, I'll answer for it."

Touched by his concern, I feigned emotion. "Sob-sob, how touching. Let me hug you, my friend."

Batman intercepted my gesture with a palm to my face. "I'll refrain. You should call Barbara and inform her of your reckless plan. She needs to know."

He was right, of course. Batgirl deserved to know what her reckless boyfriend was about to attempt. I abhorred the tired movie trope where heroes conceal vital information from their loved ones to spare them worry; inevitably, this secrecy led to cliché confrontations, strained relationships, and unnecessary drama. Why not spare oneself—and one's partner—the trouble by being honest?

So, I decided to tell Barbara everything. She deserved to participate, to worry, to care. Silver and Victoria, on the other hand, knew little about the experiment and would remain blissfully unaware—absence of knowledge breeds absence of panic.

In Babylon, preparations were nearly complete. The installation and connection of every vital component—the capsule, the serum assemblage, and control panels—progressed smoothly. Surprisingly, Pamela greeted Bruce rather amicably. For one notorious in her disdain for men, she showed no overt hostility, occasionally answering Bruce's questions without hesitation. Wayne conversed primarily with Kavita, but Pamela did not shy away from interjecting whenever her area of expertise became relevant. I suspected Bruce owed this rare civility, at least in part, to my diplomatic efforts.

Back at Arkham, when courting Poison Ivy's help on the serum project, I persuaded her to soften her outlook—if only temporarily. I assured her that the world was still home to men who valued nature and championed environmental stewardship. I pointed to Bruce Wayne's generous philanthropy, noting his efforts to protect the planet. In retrospect, Bruce should thank me for earning him Ivy's goodwill; a remarkable gesture for someone she once considered an adversary.

But I digress.

"Alex, are you absolutely sure about this?" Barbara asked again, her eyes searching mine for any sign of doubt.

"More than sure," I replied, mustering a confident smile.

She shook her head, bemused and frustrated by my inflexibility. "I know you—I know you won't listen, no matter what I say. Don't you think you're rushing things?"

"No, I don't," I replied evenly. "Barbara, it's important to realize I've been working toward this moment for a long time."

"For what?" she pressed. "Power?"

"Doesn't the pursuit of power lead to madness?" she cautioned.

"Didn't those who chased power become heroes?" I countered, half-serious, half-teasing.

"No, they went mad chasing it," she insisted.

Going mad, I mused, would be an unaffordable luxury. I had a clear purpose, a set of principles. Power without morals leads only to destruction; true strength lives in the protection of loved ones.

I ruffled her hair, my voice softening. "True power lies not in conquest, but in safeguarding those close to you."

Barbara sighed, her resistance waning. "I understand," she murmured in resignation.

"Sasha, you've been remarkably quiet," Barbara observed, seeking counsel from my bodyguard.

Sasha spoke calmly, though concern flickered in her eyes. "You know Alex better than I do. If he's committed to something, he'll see it through. All we can do is support his decision."

Her words, serene on the surface, betrayed a deep-seated worry. When so many care for one's well-being, whatever the outcome, one can hardly claim to have lived a wasted life.

Nearby, Harley turned to Ivy, her voice barely a whisper but easily overheard. "Hey, Ivy, is this experiment dangerous? Should I start worrying about my favorite wizard yet?"

Pamela glanced up from her keyboard, her tone cool but candid. "No more dangerous than diving into a vat of chemicals," she replied, sifting through scattered papers.

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Thank you all for all your lovely messages and support.

What happened is, me and my friend were returning home after dropping some of our friends, and then all of a sudden on an intersection, a guy struck our car with his' headon. I was relatively fine since I was in the backseat but my friend got a little bit injured, some minor injuries in his left hand.

Apparently the guy was drunk, that's why he was going 110 in zone where cars are normally driven at 50-60.

After that we called cops, got to the hospital, my friend and that guy got checked for any injuries.

Thankfully we sorted out all the issues.