Elias woke to the sound of beeping.
Sterile, rhythmic, mercilessly steady.
For a moment, he thought he was back in a hospital in his old world—IV drips, white walls, the faint smell of disinfectant. Then he heard the muffled scream down the corridor, the clanging of metal restraints, and the low mutter of a man chanting numbers under his breath.
Nope.Not a hospital.
Arkham. Still Arkham.
He opened his eyes.
He was strapped to a medical gurney, leather restraints coarse against his wrists and ankles. A heart monitor blinked beside him. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, flickering occasionally—not because of bad wiring, but because reality around him twitched like a nerve.
Great. Fantastic.Just what he needed.
I wake up in a literal asylum of supervillains, and now I'm tied to a table.Perfect. 10/10 isekai experience so far.
He tried to wiggle his hands. The straps held fast.
Voices drifted nearby.
"I want the readings again," a calm voice ordered. "Every fluctuation. Nothing is too small."
Bruce Wayne.
Of course he was here. Why wouldn't the literal Batman be hovering over him like a parental nightmare?
Elias swallowed.
He looked left.
Bruce stood beside the glass window separating the medical room from the hallway. Even in civilian clothes, he was impossibly imposing. Broad shoulders, perfect posture, a presence that dragged gravity with it.
He wasn't looking at Elias.
Not yet.
Elias's internal voice went into panic-analysis mode:
Okay. Think. Don't freak out. Or freak out a little. Fine. A lot. Whatever works.Bruce Wayne is here. I am strapped down. I have no idea how to turn my reality-bending "gift" off without bending something important—like myself.Do NOT accidentally rewrite gravity. Or air. Or your bones. Or—
His spiraling stopped when the door opened.
Harleen Quinzel entered, clipboard in hand, offering a tight smile.
"Hey there, Elias. How're you feeling?"
He gave her a look.
"How do you think I'm feeling?"
She nodded, as if that was fair. "Your vitals stabilized, but your energy readings are still inconsistent."
Energy readings.Right.
Whatever New Order was, Arkham's machines didn't know what to call it. The sensors had labeled it "unknown electromagnetic distortion."
Bruce finally turned to face him.
His gaze was sharp, dissecting Elias with machine-like precision.
"Elias," Bruce said. "You caused a structural shockwave. Then you collapsed. Do you know how you arrived here?"
Elias knew lying to Batman was like lying to a polygraph strapped to a homicide detective.
So he aimed for partial honesty.
"I don't know," he said, voice hoarse. "I was in my room. Then I wasn't."
Bruce studied him for a long moment.
"Dimensional displacement," he muttered. "Possibly involuntary."
Elias blinked.
Dimensional displacement?Yeah, sure, let's go with that. Sounds fancy. Better than 'the universe's worst cosmic Uber dropped me in Gotham's murder hotel.'
Harleen stepped closer, softer.
"You don't seem violent," she said. "But whatever happened in that cell wasn't normal. You bent the light. You changed pressure. Elias… people can't do that."
He let out a shaky breath.
"I didn't mean to do anything. It just… happens."
Bruce's jaw tensed.
"Explain."
"I don't know how it works," Elias said, breath tightening. "Something in me… tries to fix things. Or stabilize me. Or—I don't know—rewrite something."
"You rewrite reality?" Edward Nashton's voice called faintly from down the hall, muffled by the wall. "How intriguing."
Elias grimaced. Great. Arkham's resident obsessive genius was eavesdropping.
Bruce ignored the peanut gallery.
"Tell me the rules," Bruce said. "Every ability has parameters."
Elias hesitated.
Did he even know the rules? Barely.
He took a deep breath.
"When I panic," Elias whispered, "my power acts on its own. It… it changes things around me. But it hurts. A lot. I think I have to say something for it to work right."
"Say something?" Harleen echoed.
"Like a command," Elias said.
Bruce's eyes narrowed.
"Show me."
Elias froze.
"What?"
"Show me," Bruce repeated. "A controlled demonstration. No harm, no panic."
Elias stared at him.
Was he insane?
Show Batman your reality-warping power in the most dangerous asylum on Earth?Oh sure, why not. Next let's juggle knives while blindfolded during a hurricane.
"I don't think that's a good idea," Elias muttered.
Bruce didn't blink. "I didn't ask if you thought it was."
Elias's heart hammered.
The restraints pressed into his skin.
His breathing quickened. The lights buzzed louder.
Harleen stepped beside Bruce. "Mr. Wayne, if he can't control it, we risk a relapse of his earlier episode."
Bruce didn't look at her.
"He needs to learn control," he said simply. "Or he will hurt someone—not intentionally, but inevitably."
Those words hit Elias hard.
Because they were true.
He was dangerous right now.Even if he hated the thought.
He exhaled shakily.
"Okay," he whispered. "I'll… try. But undo the restraints."
Bruce stared.
"Not happening."
Elias's heart dropped. "Then how—"
"Use a rule on yourself," Bruce said. "Something small. Safe."
Internal monologue activated:
Okay, Elias. Think. You need something tiny. Something harmless. Something that won't explode your lungs or detach your molecules. Great sentence. Good job.Focus on something simple. Something you can handle. Something—
A thought formed.
Not dangerous.Not life-threatening.Not harmful.
Just a test.
"Okay," he whispered. "I'll try something."
Bruce stepped closer. Harleen too. Even the guards leaned in.
Elias inhaled deeply.
He touched the restraint with two fingers.
His voice trembled.
"My hand… becomes warm."
For a heartbeat—nothing.
Then the world flickered.
The air bent around his fingers, tiny and subtle.Thin lines of faint, pale light traced the back of his hand.The metal restraint warmed under his touch.
Not hot.Not glowing.
Just warm.
Harleen gasped.
Bruce's eyes tightened with understanding rather than shock.
Elias felt a small backlash—like a jolt of static up his arm. He winced but didn't cry out.
Okay. That's actually manageable, Elias thought.Better than nearly dying last time.
Harleen touched her clipboard to her chest.
"That was… controlled. Deliberate."
Bruce nodded slowly. "So you can use this power safely when directed."
Elias swallowed.
"For now."
The lights flickered again—but not because of him.
This flicker was external.
A cold wave washed through the room—no distortion, no light bending, but something else.
Something supernatural.
Something aware.
Elias's skin crawled.
Halfway across the city—in Titan Tower—Raven's eyes snapped open.
A book flew off the shelf.Candles extinguished themselves.Dark energy rippled through her meditation chamber.
She inhaled sharply.
"Found you."
She rose, cloak whispering behind her.
Someone had torn a hole—not in the physical world—but in the metaphysical lattice connecting dimensions.
And a boy was now sitting at the center of the tear.
Back in Arkham, Elias shivered uncontrollably.
Bruce noticed.
"What did you feel?" Bruce demanded quietly.
"I… I don't know," Elias whispered. "Something touched me. It felt like… someone looked inside me."
Edward Nashton called from his cell:
"Oh, lovely. A psychic visitor. As if this place wasn't crowded enough."
Harleen glared toward the cells. "Edward, please."
Edward sighed. "Just observing."
Elias shifted uneasily.
Something else lurked at the edge of his mind. A second presence. Not gentle like Raven's probing. This one felt sharper. Older. Calculating.
Somewhere far away, in a secret facility, someone spoke into a communicator.
"Slade Wilson. Sir. We detected the anomaly you requested to monitor."
Slade lifted his head.
"Show me."
A grainy image appeared: Elias in restraints, bending reality in tiny pulses.
Slade's one good eye narrowed.
"…Interesting."
Back in Arkham, Elias's chest tightened again.
Something inside him stirred—an instinct to make a new rule.
Not panic.Not terror.
But resolve.
He wasn't sure why.Maybe because Bruce Wayne stood before him with a gaze like a judge.Maybe because Raven's energy brushed him moments ago and didn't feel hostile.Maybe because Slade was unknowingly closing in like a predator.
Or maybe because, deep down—
Elias didn't want to be helpless anymore.
He took a slow breath.
"Mr. Wayne," Elias whispered. "I need to try something."
Bruce raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"A rule," Elias said. "A safer one. Something that will help me—not by accident. On purpose."
Bruce hesitated.
Harleen shook her head. "He's exhausted. Another attempt might—"
"—might teach me control," Elias finished.
His voice cracked but didn't falter.
Bruce watched him carefully.
"…Proceed."
Elias nodded, heart pounding.
He closed his eyes.
He felt the distortion inside him—coiled, unstable, but waiting.
He chose something small.Simple.Harmless.
He touched his chest gently.
And whispered:
"My breathing… becomes steady."
The effect was immediate.
A soft ripple of pressure radiated from his sternum.The lights flickered once.A pale, circular glow flickered briefly against his hospital gown, then faded.
His lungs expanded smoothly.
His heart stopped racing.
He exhaled without shaking.
The backlash was mild—just a sting along his ribs.
But he felt… grounded.
Bruce's eyes widened slightly.
Harleen whispered, "Incredible…"
Edward muttered, "Terrifying."
Jack Oswald White pressed his forehead to his glass window and giggled.
"Ohhh, he's dangerous. He doesn't even know it yet."
Bruce stepped closer to Elias's bed.
"Elias," he said quietly. "Whatever you are… whatever you can do… we're going to find out."
Elias swallowed.
Internal monologue surged:
Great. Batman is going to study me. Raven felt me. Slade probably wants to dissect me. And I'm strapped to a table in Arkham surrounded by lunatics who think I'm a reality bug.But at least……I can breathe.
Bruce's voice pulled him back.
"For now, you're staying here. Under supervision."
Elias nodded weakly.
He didn't have the strength to argue…yet.
But one thought burned in his mind:
I won't be a prisoner forever.
And that determination—small, frightened, but sharp—echoed in the distortion of the air around him, like reality had heard his promise.
Whether that was good or not…time would tell.