Rowan stood in the center of the now-quiet shrine. The demon's magic had settled in his body, but its power still felt new, raw and shifting. He could feel threads of connection flowing into the kneeling Cheetah warriors around him.
Alix stepped forward, still catching her breath. "You're… holding them without even trying."
"I'm testing what the demon left behind," Rowan replied. "Not just his magic — his structure. He could choose servants, apostles, avatars. Their faith fed him. Now I can do the same."
Alix frowned. "Apostles?"
"Champions," Rowan explained plainly. "
Alix took that in. "And you want your own?"
"We build a network," Rowan said simply. "Control faith, control loyalty. And cheetahs… are only the start."
Barbara was brought forward by two of the female warriors.
She was trembling but defiant. Rowan looked at her directly. "I will give you a choice. You can die painfully like any ordinary archaeologist who falls into something they don't understand… or accept eternity as my servant."
"Servant?" Her voice shook.
"You will be more than Alix — demon magic makes the change faster. Stronger. But your soul will be bound. Your mind, your instincts, your body — they will be loyal only to me. You will have no place for betrayal."
Barbara's lips pressed together. She looked at the armed Cheetah guards, then at Rowan again. "I agree."
The magic snapped instantly into place. Black-green energy swirled from Rowan's palm, wrapping around Barbara's chest and head like a binding seal. She screamed briefly as her eyes glowed yellow and black spots spread across her arms. Fangs broke through her lips, claws extended, muscles sharpened.
When the magic faded, she stood taller. Her breathing was steady.
Rowan's voice was calm. "First of your kind — a Cheetah vampire. Demon magic in your blood, faith link to me. You will follow orders without question."
Barbara smiled faintly. "Yes, master."
Rowan turned to Alix. "You will have the same ability — form and combat — but your base will be different. Stronger in resilience."
"I'm ready," Alix said without hesitation.
The same dark energy surrounded her, though it mixed with a deep red glow from her vampire bloodline. Her hair lengthened slightly, her body shifting into a sharper, faster form. The spots spread alongside faint black markings that pulsed like runes.
Both women now could easily shift between human and Cheetah form. Neither could even consider disobeying Rowan. He could feel their bond in his mind, like secure mental chains.
He turned away. "We leave. Gotham needs my attention next."
Time passed. Years folded in quickly.
Bruce Wayne was born. Gotham grew darker. And twelve years later, the night came — the night when fate played its hand.
The movie finished. Zorro's mask lit up the posters outside the theater as Thomas, Martha, and Bruce walked into the alley shortcut.
The thug stepped out, gun already raised. "Wallets. Jewelry. Now."
Thomas shielded his wife. The gun went off. Martha screamed. Two more shots rang out. Blood hit the wet street bricks. Bruce froze in horror.
He didn't see Rowan coming.
A sharp blow touched the back of his neck, and everything went black.
The shooter turned, confused — right into Rowan's hand. His neck snapped instantly. The thug collapsed. Rowan bent down, lifting both Thomas and Martha's bodies.
He left Bruce lying unconscious in the alley.
Minutes later, Alfred Pennyworth sat waiting in the Wayne car. He checked his watch. "Strange…" He walked toward the theater doors. Inside, nothing. Around back, in the cold, he found Bruce — fainted beside blood on the ground.
His eyes hardened. Something was terribly wrong.
By morning, Gotham was in chaos. News anchors reported the death or kidnapping of Wayne's richest couple. Police cordoned off the alley. Reporters shouted questions into cameras.
Then the story hit hard — two bodies were found washed up near Gotham's docks. DNA tests confirmed Thomas and Martha Wayne.
Far away, deep underground, Rowan laid the bodies on stone slabs. He dipped a finger into the still-hot blood on Thomas's shirt, then tapped it to his lips.
He began chanting. The air grew heavier. The hearts in the corpses twitched, then pumped once… twice.
Breathing returned.
"Rowan?" Thomas's voice was groggy. "What is this? Where's Bruce?"
Martha gasped. "We were… killed. How…?"
"You are dead," Rowan said plainly. "But I am an ancestor vampire. I grant you immortality. Your bodies will heal. No age will touch you."
"Bruce… can we see Bruce?" Martha asked quickly.
"No," Rowan said firmly. "He carries the destiny of this world — maybe the universe. You will be a catalyst in his rise, not a weight on it. Meeting him would change his path."
The couple exchanged a long look.
"You will see him in shadows," Rowan continued. "Watch over him unseen. He will become the best humanity can imagine. Your role is to build an organization to oversee the world — to track special humans who rise."
Thomas and Martha slowly nodded. "We understand."
For the first time, they looked at Rowan with a new expression — not fear, not confusion, but respect.
They would serve.
And Bruce Wayne's future would now grow under Rowan's hidden shadow.