DC: A Cop in Gotham

Chapter 32: The Creator of Land

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When there are superheroes around, Dean avoids killing criminals in front of them unless absolutely necessary—especially bat-types. Doing so would shatter the trust he carefully built with them and risk being labeled a rogue enforcer, or worse, a "black cop" abusing his power.

If that happened, he might as well move in next to Poison Ivy.

But now, Nightwing's attempt to resolve things had failed. With no other choice, Dean pulled the trigger, and Black Mask became the first supervillain to die by his hand.

Dean retracted the sniper rifle into his storage space and jumped through the hole in the wall.

Nightwing looked at Black Mask's headless corpse, clenching his fists. "I'm sorry… and thank you."

The apology and gratitude were directed at Dean. Dean could sense Nightwing's guilt; he felt he had failed Dean, forcing him to bear the burden of killing.

Dean walked over briskly, placed his hands on Nightwing's shoulders, and reassured him. "I don't feel a shred of guilt for killing Black Mask. You don't need to worry about me. I agreed to this, remember? I was the backup plan for the worst-case scenario."

Nightwing wasn't mourning Black Mask's death. Instead, he was grappling with his unresolved inner demons. The electric shock therapy had been a crude way to snap him out of his struggles, but it hadn't healed his heart.

Dean turned his attention to the massive beast floating in green liquid within the containment pod. His expression turned solemn. "As expected… the legendary embodiment of the Earth, the creator of land… Groudon."

The colossal creature was encased in dark red, segmented skin, with deep black lines forming symmetrical patterns across its body. Sharp, jagged spikes protruded along its frame, lending it an aura of raw, untamed power. From any angle, Groudon resembled anything but the benevolent god of myth.

(T/N: I don't know how Black Mask hypnotized him, just how he's a mythical Pokemon, a god too. I don't know what to do with it either, should i remove this or should i revise it, I don't really know.)

And in truth, Groudon was far from the amiable type of Pokémon. If Dean had encountered Groudon instead of Manaphy when he first arrived, even the calming charm gifted to him by a greater force might not have been enough to keep Groudon in check.

Groudon did not bother with the weak; only those he deemed stronger or worthy of respect could command his attention.

Manaphy peeked her tiny head through the hole in the wall. Her eyes lit up like stars when she noticed another Pokémon in the room. With a quick whoosh, she flew inside.

"Mana! Mana Mana!"

Manaphy excitedly circled the massive glass chamber, calling out repeatedly. But no matter how much she shouted, there was no response.

"Mana?"

(What's wrong with him?)

Worried, Manaphy flew back to Dean. He gently lifted her and placed her on his shoulder.

"Don't worry. Groudon is just sleeping. He'll wake up soon, but when he does… he might be a little angry."

Dean chuckled grimly. Maybe an earthquake could kick-start Gotham's construction boom.

"You're Dean? Hahaha, I can't believe Gordon chose someone like you."

Falcone slumped against the wall, barely able to stand after the events that had unfolded. His body trembled as he stared at Dean, the assassin who had just killed Black Mask.

"If it were Gordon, he'd have used a pistol and never aimed for the head," Falcone said, grinning weakly. "You deceived him, didn't you? Are you working for Cobblepot? I underestimated him if his ambitions have grown beyond Gotham's underground world."

"Stop with the nonsense. All my actions are justified, including killing Black Mask," Dean snapped.

Falcone smirked and leaned back, his expression shifting into something eerily confident. "You fools don't understand what you've done. Did you really think you could control a god with a broken mask?"

Black Mask's infamous headgear—crafted from his parents' coffin—had the power to control others on a mental and spiritual level. Its effectiveness depended on the target's willpower and mental strength.

By killing Black Mask, Dean had interrupted the mask's influence. Groudon's consciousness, previously in a dormant state, was now beginning to stir.

Dean pointed Hoshikudaki at Falcone, his tone sharp and accusatory. "If I'd been a second too late and allowed Black Mask to awaken Groudon, this entire city would've been doomed. The moment Groudon regained full strength and realized someone was trying to control him, Gotham would have faced the wrath of a god!"

Falcone chuckled weakly, the corners of his mouth curling upward. "And what if I told you… that's all part of my plan?"

The room fell silent.

Falcone coughed and continued. "Even if Roman's control over Groudon failed, Gotham would still be destroyed in the chaos. Afterward, the survivors would rebuild their homes on the ruins, just as the four founding families did when they first established Gotham."

He paused for dramatic effect.

"The difference is… this time, Gotham won't belong to the elites. It'll belong to everyone."

The sheer audacity of Falcone's words left the room speechless.

Dean wanted to argue but couldn't ignore the possibility. Falcone's willingness to relinquish control of Gotham's underworld for the city's future made his plan disturbingly plausible.

Even if it meant sacrificing most of the population, Falcone's twisted logic made it hard to dismiss him as a mere villain.

"It's an ambitious vision," Dean said coldly, "but it's one that Batman, Jim Gordon, and the people of Gotham will never accept."

Dean's eyes were calm and resolute. He spoke as an outsider, laying bare his thoughts: "From my perspective, Gotham has never been about the city itself. Gotham is defined by its people—the ones who live, work, marry, and raise their children here. Even the crime forms part of Gotham's identity. Rebuilding a new city over the ashes of the old won't make it Gotham anymore."

He gave Falcone a sharp look. "If building a new city could truly save Gotham, that might be a reasonable plan. But in that case, we might as well rename Central City to Gotham City and call it a day."

Dean's biting sarcasm stung Falcone deeply. The mob boss's eyes widened, and his legs trembled. He nearly choked on his own breath at the bold rejection of his so-called "Gotham Rescue Plan."

Dean wasn't done. "You've already chosen to give up on Gotham. Meanwhile, the rest of us—outsiders and Gothamites alike—haven't. Penguin, Batman, Robin, and even I are still fighting for this city!"

For someone like Falcone, who had built his life on control, the psychological wounds inflicted by Dean's words were far worse than any physical harm. Every sentence felt like a dagger to the chest, and Falcone found himself unable to refute a single word.

Seeing Falcone gasping and on the verge of collapse, Damian grew suspicious. He worried the mob boss might still have some hidden scheme and quickly helped steady him.

"Your grand plan to destroy and rebuild Gotham has failed. Now, tell us: What else did you do to Groudon besides using Black Mask's mental control?"

Before Falcone could respond, a loud *boom* reverberated through the lab.

Everyone turned toward the specially reinforced door, which was now bent inward from an immense force. Damian instinctively grabbed his weapon.

Another *boom* followed, and the door burst open. A bloody corpse slid across the floor, stopping at Dean's feet.

Although the body was mangled beyond recognition, Dean recognized it instantly. "A member of the Trench?"

At the door stood Batman, clad in his Slammer armor, holding another member of the Trench—this one still barely alive—in one hand.

"Batman! Where's Grandpa?" Damian's unease grew as he failed to see Ra's al Ghul anywhere.

Batman's deep, mechanical voice echoed from beneath the armor. "While I interrogated Ra's al Ghul, these Trench creatures stormed in through the sewers. I managed to defeat them, but Ra's escaped during the chaos."

With a swift motion, Batman crushed the skull of the Trench creature in his hand. Unlike his usual no-kill rule, Batman made no exceptions when it came to non-human threats.

His voice turned grim. "The Oracle just sent an urgent message. The Atlanteans have officially declared war on humanity, and the battlefield they've chosen… is Gotham."

Heavy footsteps echoed through the lab as Batman walked toward the containment pod. He glanced briefly at Black Mask's headless corpse but didn't comment. Instead, he accessed the computer system embedded in his gauntlet, linking it to the lab's systems.

Several live drone feeds appeared on the screen, showing massive tidal waves surging onto Gotham's shores. In the footage, Superman and Mera were coordinating efforts to evacuate civilians.

Batman gave a quick update: "We evacuated most of Gotham's residents ahead of time, leaving only a few stubborn holdouts. Superman is working to relocate them to safety as fast as possible."

"But things aren't looking good. Mera alone can't hold back the advancing waves, and the torrential rain is only making matters worse. Based on current estimates, Gotham will be completely submerged in six hours."

The gravity of the situation hit everyone like a ton of bricks. Even the shelters, designed to withstand earthquakes and tsunamis, wouldn't save Gotham if it sank entirely. If the Atlanteans couldn't be stopped, the shelters would become underwater tombs for Gotham's survivors.

Nightwing was the first to ask the question that was on everyone's minds. "Is there still time to evacuate more people to other cities?"

Batman shook his head. "No. The Oracle calculated that our earlier evacuation efforts consumed most of our transportation capacity. Restarting the process now would only allow us to evacuate nine million people at best—and even that would take time we don't have."

He paused briefly before continuing. "I've already instructed Gordon to block the news to avoid mass panic. For now, the shelters remain stable."

Gordon had also informed Batman that Penguin's forces were guarding the sewer entrances leading to the shelters. This unexpected alliance between Gotham's gangs and the police had significantly reduced pressure on law enforcement.

For a moment, Batman was stunned. The idea of Gotham's gangs working alongside the police to defend the city was unheard of—such collaborations had only ever existed in the realm of corruption, not genuine cooperation.

A light screen suddenly popped up on Batman's gauntlet. Cyborg, stationed at the Watchtower, sent a rally signal:

"Gotham's under attack by the Atlanteans. Aquaman's fighting his brother, Orm. Green Lantern's off-world. The Flash is en route—oh, wait, scratch that, he's already here. Superman and Wonder Woman are holding the line."

"But we're facing an army, and raw power alone won't be enough. We need your tactical genius, Batman."

"I'll be there soon," Batman replied, ending the communication.

He deactivated the Slammer armor, stepping out of it to prepare for lighter, more agile combat.

His gaze shifted to Groudon, still dormant in his containment pod. "Now that you've seen the chaos unfolding outside, tell me—have you resolved things here?"

The silence that followed was deafening.

Batman turned to Nightwing, his most reliable ally, who could only shrug helplessly. "Well… let me put it this way: The situation here is like a nuclear bomb about to go off, and we have no way to disarm it."

Batman's expression hardened. "..."

Dean, however, was fixated on the scenes of destruction on the monitor. After a moment, he asked, "How much longer will the evacuation take?"

"Half an hour," Batman answered.

"That should be enough," Dean said, extending a hand to the group. "Does anyone have a time bomb?"

Without hesitation, the three Bat-family members pulled out time bombs of varying sizes: large, medium, and small.

Dean buried his face in his hands. "Of course you do. Why did I even ask? Set the bombs in a circle around the containment pod, timed for half an hour. After that, we're leaving."

Batman's eyes narrowed as he studied Groudon.

"Sometimes, the combination of two catastrophes can cancel each other out," Dean remarked, his tone eerily calm. "Batman, do you know how to pit a tiger against a wolf?"

Batman's sharp mind was already working through Dean's suggestion, though his expression remained stoic. He looked at the containment pod holding Groudon, then at the time bombs being set in place.

"Using Groudon against the Atlanteans might work," Batman muttered to himself, calculating the risks. "But if this goes wrong, we'll lose Gotham for sure."

Dean stood firm, his tone confident. "If we don't try, we'll lose Gotham anyway. At least this way, we have a fighting chance."

The Bat-family finished placing the bombs around Groudon's pod and set the timer to thirty minutes, just as Dean instructed. With everything in place, they turned to leave.

Suddenly, the ground shook violently beneath their feet. Everyone stumbled, barely maintaining their balance.

"What now?" Nightwing growled, bracing himself against a nearby console.

The monitors in the lab flickered, showing seismic activity spikes that shouldn't have been possible. Batman's eyes narrowed as he analyzed the data. "Something's happening… something big."

A low, guttural roar echoed through the lab, sending chills down everyone's spines. The containment pod trembled as cracks began to form on its surface.

"It's too soon!" Damian shouted. "The timer hasn't gone off yet!"

Dean's expression darkened. "The bombs didn't trigger this… Groudon is waking up on his own."

Manaphy, perched on Dean's shoulder, clung to him tightly, her little body trembling with fear. "Mana… Mana…" she whimpered softly, her usually cheerful demeanor replaced by unease.

The pod shattered in an explosion of green liquid, spraying shards of glass and waves of energy across the lab. Everyone dove for cover as the massive figure of Groudon emerged, its dark red body glowing with an ominous light.

The earth itself seemed to respond to Groudon's awakening. The ground cracked and split, and the air grew heavy with the scent of molten rock. Groudon's piercing yellow eyes opened, and it let out another deafening roar, shaking the entire facility.

Dean stood up slowly, his eyes locked on Groudon. "Well… this is going to be a problem."

Batman, ever the strategist, quickly formulated a plan. "We need to lead it out of the city. If Groudon rampages here, Gotham won't survive."

"And how exactly do we do that?" Nightwing asked, his tone a mix of frustration and concern.

Dean smirked. "Leave that to me."

Manaphy, sensing Dean's determination, flew off his shoulder and hovered in front of Groudon. She chirped nervously, trying to get the massive Pokémon's attention. "Mana! Mana Mana!"

Groudon glanced at Manaphy, its expression unreadable. For a moment, it seemed as though the ancient Pokémon recognized her.

Taking advantage of the brief distraction, Dean stepped forward and called out to Groudon. "Hey, big guy! You're probably feeling disoriented right now, but if you want to vent some of that anger, I've got the perfect target for you."

Groudon turned its gaze to Dean, the ground trembling with each step it took toward him. Batman, Nightwing, and Damian tensed, ready to intervene if necessary.

Dean held his ground, showing no fear. "The Atlanteans are invading. They think they can take Gotham. Why not show them why that's a terrible idea?"

Groudon let out a low growl, as if considering Dean's words. The tension in the room was palpable.

"Come on," Dean urged. "You're the god of the land, aren't you? Prove it."

For a moment, it seemed as though Groudon might attack Dean. But then, with a final earth-shaking roar, the massive Pokémon turned and began making its way toward the exit.

Batman watched in amazement as Groudon left the lab, each step causing tremors that rippled through the ground. "I can't believe that worked," he muttered under his breath.

Dean turned to the others, his expression smug. "You're welcome."

Nightwing shook his head, a small grin on his face. "You're either a genius or insane. Probably both."

"Time will tell," Dean replied, his tone light despite the gravity of the situation.

Manaphy flew back to Dean, her cheerful demeanor returning now that the immediate danger had passed. She perched on his shoulder, chirping happily.

But the relief was short-lived. Batman's gauntlet beeped urgently, displaying a new message from Cyborg.

"The Atlanteans have launched their full-scale assault. They're advancing faster than we anticipated. Superman and Wonder Woman are holding the front lines, but they need backup now."

Batman turned to the group, his voice firm. "We're out of time. Let's move."

As they hurried to join the fight, Dean glanced over his shoulder, watching as Groudon disappeared into the distance. He could only hope that the ancient Pokémon's wrath would be directed at the Atlanteans—and not at Gotham itself.

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