DCU: Split

Steam still clung faintly to the air as the bathroom door opened.

Vey stepped out first, towel dragging once through his hair before he tossed it aside. The mask was gone, the edge of the night with it, but not entirely. It lingered in the way his shoulders held tension, in the quiet calculation behind his eyes.

Nolan settled back into place, in a blink of an eye.

His posture slouched just slightly as he moved toward the desk, rolling his shoulders once like he was slipping into something more familiar. The penthouse felt different under him—less like a staging ground, more like a command center.

He sat down and opened the laptop, the screen reflecting in his eyes as systems came online. He liked his computer clean and organized everything settled into different folders he could easily access.

His phone rang.

Nolan tapped it onto speaker without looking away from the screen.

"Glad you're safe, boss," Marcy's voice came through.

"Me too," Nolan replied, already navigating through files. "I'll be sending you a list of materials soon. This trip gave me a few ideas I'd like to pursue."

There was a soft sigh on the other end. "I'll check what we can source. Funds are still looking good for now."

Nolan paused at that, one eyebrow lifting slightly as he pulled up a spreadsheet. Numbers filled the display—accounts, movements, allocations. Everything sat comfortably in the green.

"Everything looks fine here," he said, scanning quickly. "Am I missing something, Marcy?"

"No, sir," she said quickly, followed by a small, slightly embarrassed laugh. "You're not missing anything. I'm just not used to seeing this much money. Feels strange spending it."

That earned a quiet chuckle from him. "Me too, Marcy. Me too."

The moment passed, and his tone shifted back to business.

"Give me the report." he said.

"Yes, sir. Full sweep completed," she replied immediately. "We checked for bugs, stripped everyone, and found a couple of listening devices. Already destroyed. Hostages are secured—round-the-clock surveillance. Room 22B, third floor."

Nolan nodded slightly, eyes still moving across the data on his screen. "Expected," he said. "If we found theirs, they found ours. Worth a try at least."

He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping lightly against the desk as he thought it through.

"Let them sit for now," he continued. "No interaction. Silence does more work than pressure at this stage. I'll go down once they've had time to think."

"Understood. We'll keep someone in the room at all times."

"Good."

Nolan paused again, considering the broader picture. The tunnels, the meeting room, the bugs—those were just the opening moves. What mattered now was how the Court responded.

"Have everyone start monitoring the taps," he said. "We need to see how the court responds, I doubt we will glean any crucial information but everything matters at this stage. The court is already fighting against itself, we need to press on the wounds."

There was a brief pause before Marcy answered.

"Got it. We'll start immediately."

Nolan's gaze remained fixed on the screen, already thinking several steps ahead.

"Good," he said quietly. "That'll tell us where to push next."

***

The court met in a secured network, each participant appearing behind a masked feed, voices filtered, locations obscured. The interface was clean, deliberately minimal, designed for function over comfort. No one needed to see more than necessary.

Kane's feed came online last.

He didn't apologize for it.

"We've had a breach," he began, his voice steady, controlled. "One of our access points was compromised. The tunnels were entered. Until we verify containment, we will treat that entire section as exposed. All further discussions will remain remote."

A brief silence followed as the weight of that settled across the call.

"Do we have any idea who did it?" one of the members asked.

"Not at the moment," Kane replied. "We recovered one of our own at the site. Deceased. Evidence suggests he was not acting with the intruders, but he was not there with clean intent either. He was planting listening devices."

That shifted the tone immediately.

"So he was the rat?" another voice asked, the conclusion coming quickly, almost eagerly.

Kane allowed a faint smile beneath his mask, though it didn't reach his voice. That answer would satisfy some of them. The ones who preferred simple explanations.

"No."

The word cut cleanly across the call.

Another voice followed it—cool, precise.

"They were too low-ranking to be the source of a breach like this," Maria said. "They wouldn't have access to anything of real value. Someone either let them in, or provided a way around our safeguards."

Kane's expression tightened slightly, unseen by the others. The smile he had allowed himself vanished just as quickly.

She was becoming a problem.

Someone else spoke before he could respond.

"Why are we pretending this is unclear?" the voice said, sharper now. "We all know who this is. We move against the underpass, and suddenly our operations start falling apart. This isn't subtle."

A low murmur of agreement followed.

Kane nodded, even though only his masked feed reflected the motion. "The underpass is the most likely actor at this stage," he said. "Recent attempts to neutralize their leadership have not been as effective as anticipated. Their response suggests coordination we did not account for."

"Coordination?" another voice cut in. "It's worse than that. Our name is spreading. The Court isn't a whisper anymore—it's being talked about openly. Gangs, intermediaries, even some legitimate circles are starting to hear it. We're exposed."

That drew more tension into the call.

"We need to redirect attention," someone else said quickly. "We deal with the underpass and bury our name again before this spreads further."

Kane let out a quiet laugh, not dismissive, but measured. "Then by all means," he said, "offer a solution."

There was a brief pause before another feed flickered slightly.

"Ignite the gangs," Lincoln March said. "Turn them back on each other."

Kane considered it for half a second, then nodded. "That would fracture their focus. If they're fighting among themselves, they won't have the time or clarity to look at us. It also places pressure on the underpass from multiple directions."

"How do we start it?" someone asked.

"Leverage," another voice suggested. "We push one faction with resources, tip the balance, and let the rest react."

March gave a short, humorless snort. "That won't work," he said. "They're too volatile right now. Suspicious. The only thing they hate more than each other is outside influence. Especially ours."

Kane inclined his head slightly. "Then we remove the need for cooperation," he said. "We use mercenaries. Dress them in gang colors. Manufacture the conflict ourselves."

That shifted the tone again, this time toward agreement.

"Escalate it where necessary," another added. "If it stalls, deploy a Talon cell to remove key figures. Make it look like internal power struggles."

"Agreed."

"Yes."

"That will work."

The plan settled quickly once it took shape.

"Very well," Kane said. "Begin preparations immediately."

There was a pause before another voice brought the conversation back.

"And the rat?"

***

"Batman's starting to become a problem." Kieran said with a small frown as he sat on the desks top

"I know." Nolan replied, "I didn't expect him to push so hard. Vey was the wrong choice in hindsight you should have been the one to do the reveal."

"I apologize." Vey said hanging his head low

Nolan's head shook, "You have nothing to apologize for, I would have been worse and I don't even remember." His words rang hollow

"He is obviously trying to find our weaknesses. We can use it we just have to play this smart so at the end of this we come out stronger."

"Can I ask you something Nolan?" Kieran changed the subject as he fiddled with pen

"Sure."

"Why don't try to understand why we were made like you do with the beast?" He asked

Both vey and Quentin perked up silently at the question.

Nolan gazed downwards unable to meet their eyes, "When I first realized why I was having memory gaps, I hated you all so much. I do not remember why I am like this, yet I have memories I can't explain. Memories of so much pain and anger. Of white walls and wails. Of death and fear. Then I have gaps of partying, lying, fighting. I remember being arrested being sent to a mad house. I remember hating you all so fucking much." Tears dropped slowly down his cheeks

"Then we ended up here, and you talked to me. I was so mad, why would you talk to me now? What's the point. Kieran you talked your way into a hotel so we could sleep somewhere, vey you killed those guys that tried to beat me when we first arrived. And Quentin even in your own crazy way." He laughed, "You protected me. You all are the only reason I'm still alive."

"I guess what I'm trying to say is, I hated you all so much until I realized you have only ever tried to protect me in your own insane ways. I don't know what I would do if you ever disappeared."

"So I just want you to know."

"I love you all and I'm thankful for the journey we are on together."

-

A/N still on vacation, wanted to get this out next chapter should be on schedule but I might be late