âThe Son the Infinite Realms Forgotâ
DP x DC Prompt
Bruce has always hated mirrors. They never quite reflected him.
Not in the poetic sense â literally. His reflection shimmered sometimes, like the glass couldnât decide if it wanted to hold his shape or let him go.
He wrote it off as stress. Alfred wrote it off as grief. The League wrote it off as trauma.
Then one night during patrol, something answered him. Not over comms â not in his head â but in the dark glass of a broken skyscraper window.
âYouâve grown, little fragment.â
A man steps out of the reflection â pale hair, eyes glowing like ectoplasm and exhaustion. The air tastes like ozone and winter.
âWho are you?â Bruce demands, batarang ready. âWho I was doesnât matter,â the stranger says softly. âWho you were supposed to be⊠does.â
The Batfamily rushes to intervene, but the figure just smiles â a fatherâs smile. He calls Bruce a name that no one else has ever used: Acheron.
And suddenly the shadows listen to Bruce when he speaks.
Alfred drops his tray. Timâs scanner goes haywire. And Damian, of all people, whispers, âFather⊠your pulse isnât human.â
Turns out Bruce Wayne wasnât just an orphan. He was a weapon â a clone born from a god who wanted peace but was forced to create war.
Danny Phantom had made a son once â to save him from Vladâs reach. He thought the boy died in the lab. But now, standing before the man heâs become, Danny just smiles through tears.
âYou called yourself Batman,â Danny says softly. âGuess I didnât lose you after all.â
