Batman: Kill the Justice League

Chapter 3: Within Pandora's Box

I sat motionless as I observed Alfred across the chessboard, pondering over his next move. He was running through the ramifications of the play I had just made, trying to see through the veil of my strategy. In each and every match we squared off in, we would reach a moment where he knew that his loss was imminent, and yet it bewildered him that he could not see it.

"That is a rather audacious move, Master Bruce, to sacrifice your Queen so brazenly. I have to ask; did you perhaps make an error in judgment?"

I smiled.

"No, Alfred. I am going to checkmate you within the next five moves."

I did it in three.

Alfred lightly clapped with a lopsided smile on his face.

"Bravo, Master Bruce. Might I suggest you try your hand against a superior opponent? Perhaps the Batcomputer may offer you the mental stimulation you crave."

"And forgo your company? Not a chance."

Alfred chuckled before letting out a long sigh.

"Very well. I am going to ask if only so that you may gloat. How did you know?"

"Most people cannot imagine sacrificing something so important, enduring a loss so large. That false sense of confidence I handed to you was the key to your next moves. Chess is a game of life and death, and sometimes to win you must be willing to lose everything there is to lose."

"It's eerie how far ahead you see, Master Bruce."

I began to reset the board for our next game.

"Perhaps you could use your foresight to imagine what we shall have for supper?"

"Your move, Alfred."

Slowly, I descended the bowels of the cave, listening to the rapid flutter of bats inviting me home. The weight of the world bore down on my tired shoulders as I steeled myself to face him again. I told myself that I was sure of my path. Yet, even a one percent chance that I was wrong had to be treated as enough; hope to abandon it all. The Justice League, my allies, my friends, deserved that much. And so I entered the depths of the cave's holding cells, where Barry Allen lazily sat within his anti-speedforce prison, staring at the wall as if in a trance.

As I made my approach, he slowly turned towards me and gave me a hideous smile.

In the low light his eyes flashed violet.

In the writings of an older world, it was said that hell was empty, and all the devils were here. For it was understood that the world around us held a reflection of our own darkness. I was willing to peer into it, where most others would not dare to look, and imagine what dwelled within. I knew – reminded myself every single night of one single truth. Before superheroes and supervillains, there was only man. And within each person, was the capacity for pure evil.

I had to know. Did I face Braniac itself, or did it simply awaken a latent evil within my friend?

"Bruce Wayne, you cold son of a bitch. That hurt," he said, pointing at his chest.

Removing my cowl, I stood before him.

"We need to talk. But before we do, I need to know who I'm speaking with."

Barry laughed, "What, you think I'm a zombie and Braniac is hiding in my head, making me bark? Oh no. I am The Flash, and I am going to give you the same treatment I gave to Lex Luthor."

I remained silent. Barry tilted his head mockingly.

"What, no scary comeback? Fine, fine. I'll prove it to you. If I was not Barry Allen, the one and only Flash, how would I know about that letter I gave to you in secret all those years ago?"