AM I SUPERMAN?

The night was heavy, and the moon cast a silvery glow, bathing the city in an eerie calm.

On Star City Avenue, a speeding Mercedes-Benz carried a peculiar sports car on its trailer. The vehicle was sleek and imposing, painted in jet black with an aggressive, flat-front design. Its oversized wheels and high rear exhaust pipes complemented its streamlined body, giving it the appearance of a bat poised to take flight.

Moments later, the Batmobile roared to life, tearing through the streets and heading straight for a LexCorp food factory on the outskirts of Star City. The car screeched to a halt, and out stepped a figure cloaked in darkness—a man clad in black armor, a flowing cape, and a cowl that concealed his face.

It was Batman.

Raising a cable launcher, he aimed at the second floor of the factory and fired. The towline zipped through the air, anchoring securely. With a swift leap, Batman launched himself upward, his cape spreading wide like the wings of a bat as he glided toward the window.

Once inside, Batman crouched in the shadows, scanning his surroundings. His target lay below, in the warehouse basement: two raw kryptonite fragments.

Inside the Factory

"Who's there? Stop!" a guard shouted, his voice tinged with panic as he spotted the intruder.

The guard reached for his gun, but Batman was already moving. He dashed forward, his movements fluid and precise. The guard pulled the trigger, but the bullets were useless against Batman's suit, which was reinforced with Kryptonian alloy—a material strong enough to withstand even Superman's blows.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The bullets ricocheted harmlessly off Batman's armor, leaving only sparks in their wake. Before the guard could react further, Batman grabbed him by the collar, spun him around, and delivered a swift blow to the back of his neck, knocking him unconscious.

With the guard neutralized, Batman moved silently toward the basement.

The entrance to the basement was sealed with a reinforced steel door and a keypad lock. Batman retrieved a compact hacking device from his utility belt. Within seconds, the lock beeped, and the door slid open, revealing two wooden crates in the dimly lit room.

Inside the crates were the raw kryptonite fragments—glowing faintly green and pulsing with ominous energy. Batman compared the samples to the data he had copied from Lena Luthor's files. The stones were an exact match.

"Kryptonite," Batman murmured, inspecting the pieces. "This could change everything."

He slipped the fragments into a secure compartment in his belt. "This was almost… too easy," he muttered, his instincts on high alert. But no alarms blared, and no reinforcements arrived. After a thorough scan of his surroundings, Batman made his exit, leaving the factory as silently as he had entered.

Shortly after Batman's departure, the guard he had incapacitated stirred. Twisting his neck, the man groaned and pulled out a concealed phone.

"Boss Lena," he whispered, his voice shaky. "The package has been taken by the Bat. Any instructions?"

On the other end of the line, Lena Luthor's voice was calm and composed. "Good work, Tate. You can stand down for the night."

Tate chuckled, his tone sly. "Boss, don't you think you're letting the Bat off too easy?"

Lena's soft laughter echoed through the phone. "Let him have his prize. I look forward to working with him again soon."

Returning to the Batcave with the kryptonite fragments, Bruce Wayne carefully secured them in a lead-lined containment unit. Before he could examine them further, Alfred hurried in, still in his pajamas, his face pale with urgency.

"Master Wayne!" Alfred gasped. "It's terrible news!"

Bruce quickly moved to steady his trusted butler. "Alfred, slow down. What happened?"

Alfred took a deep breath. "The Wayne Group… it was just robbed by a group of armed criminals!"

After hearing Alfred's report, Bruce Wayne frowned deeply. His voice dropped to a dangerous tone. "When did this happen? And what exactly did they take? Could it be…?"

A possibility crossed his mind: the super-energy reactor he had restarted recently.

Alfred took a deep breath before responding. "It happened just over an hour ago, sir. Our arsenal was completely raided—all firearms and weaponry have been stolen. And worse, the super-energy reactor you were developing… it's gone as well."

Bruce's frown deepened. In the United States, private companies were allowed to manufacture firearms. Under his father, Thomas Wayne, the Wayne Group had established fourteen military branches dedicated to producing weapons. However, after Bruce took control of the company, he had ceased all production of military-grade weapons. Yet, the arsenal still contained an extensive stockpile—enough to outfit a full legion.

"Damn it!" Bruce muttered, his fists clenched. "Losing the weapons is bad enough, but the reactor… it's not even complete. It's unstable and could explode with the force of four million tons of TNT."

Anger simmered beneath his calm exterior. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being manipulated, led step by step into a trap. From the initial clues to tonight's events, everything felt orchestrated.

His mind drifted to Lena Luthor. Could she be involved? The timing was suspicious. Yet he had spent the entire afternoon and night with her. She hadn't exhibited any behavior that suggested involvement in a heist of this scale. Still, Bruce couldn't entirely dismiss the idea—Luthors were notorious for their cunning.

After a moment of silent thought, he shook his head. Without concrete evidence, it was a dead end for now.

"I'll go to the company and inspect the scene myself," Bruce said, turning to Alfred. "You should get some rest."

"No, Master Wayne," Alfred replied firmly. "It's nearly five in the morning, and I'm usually awake by now anyway. But you, sir, could use a few hours of sleep."

Bruce shook his head. "I'll sleep after I've seen the damage."

Bruce, now dressed in his sharp business suit, arrived at the Wayne Group headquarters with Alfred. The scene was chaotic. Gotham City Police Department officers, led by Commissioner James Gordon, had cordoned off the area.

Gordon spotted Bruce stepping out of his car and approached him. "Bruce, you're up early."

"Didn't sleep," Bruce replied curtly. His gaze shifted to the large, gaping hole in the wall of the building. "Let's skip the pleasantries, Jim. Do you know who did this?"

Gordon sighed and handed Bruce a tablet displaying surveillance footage. "We've got some footage from the security cameras. The robbers blasted through the warehouse wall with RPGs and killed four of your guards. Seven people were involved. Six were wearing ski masks, but the leader… well, he stood out."

Gordon tapped the screen, freezing the footage on a towering figure. "This is him."

Bruce studied the image intently. The leader was over two meters tall, his muscular upper body exposed. He wore a mechanical apparatus strapped to his torso, with numerous green tubes running from the device to a mask covering his face.

"Who is this man?" Bruce asked, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed the figure.

"We're not entirely sure," Gordon admitted. "But judging by the equipment, he's not your average thug. Those tubes… they're pumping something into him. Maybe a drug or some kind of enhancement."

Bruce's mind raced. The figure resembled Bane, a known criminal mastermind infamous for using Venom, a strength-enhancing substance. Bane's intellect and brutality made him one of the most dangerous adversaries in Batman's rogues' gallery.

If Bane was involved, this wasn't just a robbery—it was a calculated move. And the stolen reactor, combined with the weapons, could signify something far worse.

"Keep me updated, Jim," Bruce said, handing the tablet back. "I'll handle my end."

"Bruce, don't do anything reckless," Gordon warned, sensing the tension in Bruce's tone.

Bruce didn't respond. Instead, he turned and walked toward his car, his mind already formulating a plan. If Bane was behind this, the stakes had just escalated, and Bruce Wayne—both as a man and as Batman—had to be ready for whatever came next.

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