Meanwhile, in Gotham City, Bruce parked the Batmobile two blocks away from Arkham Asylum. Sitting in the driver's seat, with Deadshot beside him, he focused on the monitor displaying live surveillance from inside the facility.
In the back seat, surrounded by equipment, Victor shoved aside several gadgets with visible irritation.
"Do we really need to go through all this?" he said. "If Arkham has a problem, why not just call it in and have the place wiped out?"
"Victor."
Bruce turned slightly, his voice sharp.
"We have not identified the source of the problem yet. Sending more people without understanding it would only make things worse."
He raised his hand and pointed at the screen, tapping directly on the feed from the warden's office.
Harley Quinn stood in front of a mirror, dancing. As she moved, she muttered to herself, holding a conversation no one else could hear.
Bruce exhaled slowly.
"Everyone in Arkham, including the warden, is under some form of mental influence. Before all this, I would have assumed it was the work of an inmate. Now, after everything Axel has brought into this world, there are far too many possibilities."
Deadshot nodded.
"Back then, we would have handled this step by step. It is still just a mental hospital. Either Hugo Strange or Jonathan Crane started something before they died, or Axel's actions caused a patient to break loose after they were gone."
He leaned back slightly.
"I checked the current patient list. There is someone capable of this. The Mad Hatter. A strong hypnotist. You remember him."
"Floyd."
Bruce shook his head.
"We do not build conclusions on assumptions. The Mad Hatter has been restrained in his room under constant supervision. Until we confirm otherwise, we cannot treat him as the source. That kind of thinking leads to mistakes."
He paused, eyes still on the screen.
"What if this is someone targeting Axel directly, using Arkham as a tool through magic? Or something not even human. A demon, or something worse."
His expression tightened.
The world had changed too quickly. Gods, devils, and magic were no longer theories. They were active forces.
And without someone deeply connected to that world, he was operating blind.
In the back seat, Victor let out a bored yawn.
"You two can keep analyzing. I will be on my phone. Wake me up when something actually needs doing. I have the Iceberg Lounge to run all day. I am not built for this kind of thinking."
He shifted, resting his head against a piece of equipment, and pulled out his phone.
A second later, loud news reports filled the car.
"Washington has suffered a catastrophic attack!"
"This reporter is on site, the situation is escalating!"
"The Vice President has been confirmed dead. President Donald Trump has issued an official statement!"
"The nation is on the brink. Washington has fallen. Authorities have yet to respond effectively!"
"Is this the work of aliens, or something beyond human understanding?"
"Hey."
Deadshot turned and smacked Victor's leg.
"Lower the volume. Some of us are still working."
"Shit."
Victor stared at him, then immediately shoved the phone forward.
"I am not watching anything. Look at this."
Deadshot froze for a moment, then frowned as he pointed his revolver toward Victor out of habit.
"Watch your mouth."
"Forget that. Just look."
Victor pushed the gun aside and held the screen closer.
Bruce and Deadshot both leaned in.
Blue lightning tore across the sky above Washington. Every strike leveled another building. Entire blocks vanished in seconds.
Deadshot's expression hardened.
"This is real."
Bruce immediately switched the Batmobile's system to Wayne Enterprises satellite access. The display changed to a live aerial view of Washington.
The White House was already half destroyed.
Victor swallowed.
Bruce adjusted the feed, shifting focus toward Arlington County.
After a brief pause, he nodded slightly.
"The Pentagon is still intact, for now."
He started the engine.
"Floyd, pull every piece of information on this attack. I want a clear picture of what we are dealing with."
Deadshot took control of the system without hesitation.
"On it."
"Victor, return to the Iceberg Lounge. Mobilize your people. Contact Oswald Cobblepot and coordinate an evacuation plan. If Gotham becomes a target, we need to move immediately."
Victor was already moving. He jumped out of the Batmobile and pulled a compact motorcycle from the rear compartment.
As he mounted it, he activated the comms.
"I am heading back now. But if Washington looks like this, where exactly are we supposed to evacuate to?"
"Send people to their family estates where possible," Bruce replied. "Otherwise, direct them toward Wayne Manor. It will serve as a fallback location."
Victor accelerated into the night.
Inside the car, Bruce connected to Lucius Fox.
At that same moment, Lucius was already issuing instructions across Wayne Enterprises, directing staff toward reinforced underground facilities.
When the call connected, Lucius wiped the sweat from his forehead, his expression tense.