Ultraman dragged the weak body of Superman through the halls of the converted Hall of Justice. The once clean cream colored walls were now covered in strapped on wires and mechanical readouts. A low hum could be heard buzzing through the Hall as Owlman's great device neared completion. Through the skylight above the main command room, one could see the looming presence of Oa staring down at the planet. It eclipsed the sky with its large presence. The green flaming chains remained wrapped around it, holding the planet in place.

Ultraman dragged the beaten Superman back into the red sun prison room he had been kept inside of earlier. The room had been slightly modified to better house the man of steel permanently. The steel cage had been replaced by a glass one. Opening a vault door, Ultraman tossed Superman inside. Clark fell down with a thud. His body was bloody and weak.

After placing the kryptonian inside and sealing the door shut, Ultraman stepped back. He pressed a few buttons on a control panel nearby. The red kryptonite underneath began to glow. Clark looked at his skin. It was becoming translucent. However, he was too tired to cry out. He just laid there and was forced to take the pain. Pressing another set of buttons, Ultraman brought up a row of green kryptonite to surround the exterior of the cell. If that weren't enough, a set of red sun generators also popped up around the room and beamed down on the man of steel.

Ultraman grinned. Most of his enemies he slaughtered before they even had a chance to beg for mercy. It was nice to now have a true prisoner that he could torture for as long as he wanted. The grinning leader walked over to the glass cell and bent down. He kept his hands folded behind his back like a general gaining pleasure from watching an order play out.

Ultraman: Not so super now, are you? I guess you're just a man now. And would you look at that? All the things that hurt you give me more strength. How poetic. The flaws of the old empire allow the new one to flourish.

Clark: We... were never... an empire.

Ultraman: Well you should have been. You want to know something funny I learned? On this Earth, Rome was a bountiful, expansive empire for centuries. But where I'm from, it never made it past its initial borders. It had the resources, it had the tools, but its people never acted. You and I are much the same. We both possess the power to change this world. But only one of us has the guts to act on it.

Clark: It's... never... about... power... It's about... the message...

Ultraman nodded. His chin was poised in contemplation, like he was still trying to figure out what made this man so special other than his powers. Why did others look up to him when all he did was small acts and never be where he really should be?

Ultraman: You could end wars, you know? All the conflict of this world, all the vile tongues silenced quicker than anyone had the time to realize. But I guess you chose your "message" over action. You chose wrong. Now it is I who will become this world's savior. 

With that, Ultraman walked away, leaving Clark to lie down in pain and exhaustion. On the other side of the complex, Bruce was being strapped into a different type of prison. His arms and legs were spread apart and locked into iron clamps, each connected to large pistons. He had been stripped down to his casual attire, his armor, tools, and utility belt taken away from him. A mechanical monitor and electrodes were attached to his chest.   

Owlman stood before Wayne. He finished pressing a few keys, locking the Bat in his personal prison. The man behind the silver mask eyed his prisoner not in a mocking or judgmental way, but rather in a contemplative and sour manner, like he was thinking about all the possible ways Bruce could escape and how he'd counteract them. 

Bruce: Nice cell you've got here. What is there also a dungeon master to come and whip me or something?

Owlman: You're hooked up to a a sensory model input detection unit. Made to locate signs of life in deep space. You so much as breath wrong, blow a chest hair in the wrong direction, it will detect it.

Bruce: Nice. You know me. You know I'll find a way to escape. 

Owlman: I know. I highly advise against it, though.

Bruce: Why? You've already taken most from me.

Owlman: Most, but not everything. So, you do try to escape, and I'll snuff her out as well.

Wayne had an idea of what he was insinuating. He bit his lip and scowled at the man in the grey mask.

Bruce: So, that's how you want to play... Thomas?

Owlman looked up. A small grin appeared on his face. 

Owlman: How long did it take for you to figure it out?

Bruce: After our confrontation the other day. You slipped up. You said you had killed me before. That immediately ruled out you being another version of me from your Earth. But there is still the appearance aspect. And with that, I knew that different Earths follow different histories. And I know there is only one person who could look and sound just like me. My own brother.

Owlman continued to grin. He puled his hands up and peeled off his cowl, bringing it down around his neck. Bruce found himself looking back at a near replica of himself save for this one having a few more grey hairs. 

Owlman: Astute observation, detective.

Bruce nodded.

Bruce: When I was old enough, my parents told me that I was not always a single child. I was born with a twin, one a few minutes older than me. Named after our father. He died the same day he was born. Asphyxiation. Too much fluid in his lungs. 

Bruce had his head down as he spoke. He never got the chance to know his brother, but he always liked the picture what it may have been like. Maybe childhood wouldn't have been so lonely. Owlman nodded.

Owlman: Well, I can assure you, I very much survived on my Earth.

Bruce: How close were we there?

Owlman: Fairly close. Growing up, we were the best of friends. We played together. One day we visited the soup kitchen in town. It was on that day we both dreamed of one day making the world a better place for people. 

Bruce: But your parents were murdered as well, I'll take it? 

Owlman: What makes you suspect that?

Bruce: I know me, the unhinged beast. That version only ever comes after tragedy.

Owlman: Yes, I'm afraid it does. Both of our folks were murdered by a corrupt cop on my Earth. From that day onward, I vowed revenge. No, more than revenge. Justice. I told my Bruce to stay behind. It was for his betterment. I went off to see the world, plunge myself into its darkest regions, and came back all the wiser.

Bruce: You were recruited by the Court of Owls.

Owlman: Yes. Once they saw my skills, they found me fit to be their general. Upon my return to Gotham and induction into the Court, I hunted down the cop who had murdered my parents. That was when he revealed the truth to me.

Bruce: Which is...?

Owlman: That I had been lied to. My whole life I thought my parents were saints. But their fortune was wrong. Born out of the pockets of bootleggers, mob bosses, and swindlers. The very people I pledged to help were put in that position because of people such as my parents. And my brother... he proved to be the worse of them all. He didn't think their fortune was enough. He thought they could be doing more with it. He hired the hitman on our parents. His hope was that he would inherit their fortune. And he was right. Used what he worked for to buy out the police. Everything became clear to me that day. 

Owlman's face turned appear, almost like it was about to crack. he spoke with vile hatred, but also mad gloating.

Owlman: I had an epiphany. The world was beyond saving. It needed a savior. It needed someone to wipe the slate clean. Bruce was right. Power is only best used when it is in your own hands. But I didn't squander our fortune on petty gifts and bribes. I did what he was too close minded to see. I didn't just buy out the police. I bought out the entire city.

Bruce: You allowed the Court to take everything.

Owlman: Yes. I became more than a symbol. I became a presence. I did in a few years what you have been trying to do for the past forty. Entire squadrons under my command. I instilled fear that anytime someone turned their back, they could be caught by the shadows. The only difference is that your shadow is just that, an empty shadow. Mine upholds that promise of a threat. One wrong turn and it's lights out. Cut off society's problems at the roots. But I couldn't do it with Bruce still in the picture. He needed to pay for what he did to our parents. They were corrupt, yes, and narrow sighted too, but she was still my mother. 

Owlman looked at Bruce. He tried to find any hint of malice, any form of anger. He got no response. 

Owlman: Now for my question. Why risk your life for the alien? It was quite an irrational and illogical decision on your part. What has he got that's so special to you?

Bruce did not reply. Owlman looked at him closer. A grin appeared on the beaked old man's face.

Owlman: No matter. Whatever it is, it won't be any use to you or anyone once he's dead.

Bruce pressed against his restraints, lunging his chest forward. His movement caused the sensors to go off and beep loudly.

Bruce: You keep your hands off of him, you hear?

Owlman: Ooh. Touched a nerve, have I? A mortal pleading to keep an alien alive?

Bruce: That alien is more human than either one of us.

Bruce eyed his doppelganger with a narrow gaze. Owlman simply chuckled, thinking back on his life's story. He pulled his cowl back up and turned to leave.

Bruce: Do you really trust Ultraman?

Owlman: What do you think?

Bruce: He'll go through with it.

Owlman: I'm counting on it. 

With that, the silver and grey suited villain walked away. His cape dragged behind him, slithering back and forth like a snake following its master. Bruce was left to hang in the chamber prison, alone in the brightly lit room without the shadows for reliance or comfort. 

Alfred led everyone down through a dimly lit cave. The narrow passage was so dark the group could not even see three feet in front of them. The only source of light was a flashlight in Alfred's hand as well as the small colored lights emanating from Victor's body. The group had to turn sideways to crawl through the tight narrow gap into the decent of the cave.

Diana: What is this place?

John: That's what I would have liked to know before we dived knee deep into bat guano. 

Alfred: Master Bruce made his instructions very clear. I was to be the one to choose this location and only I should be the one to know about it. Not even the master himself is aware of its precise location.

John: Are you telling us that not even the Batman knows where we are or what this place is?

Alfred: The master has many contingencies, Mr. Stewart. Some for enemies, some for allies, but most are for him. He always thought the worst of himself, so he entrusted others with the best.

The others all looked at one another. Alfred stepped out of the wedge tight crack in the wall and led everyone into a large opening. Y/N heard a soft clang as he noticed the floor beneath him change from the smooth rock of the cave floor to a hard metal. Alfred held up his light, but the room was too large to fully illuminate.

Alfred: Mr. Stone, if you would care to shed some light on this subject for us?

Cyborg looked at Alfred and nodded. He held up his hand and pressed two of his fingers together. The fingers merged and created a small flare gun. Victor fired the red flare up and out into the room. It went off. The red glow faintly illuminated the large room. The group could make out a few tables and large machinery. 

Y/N spotted a large generator and power station at the other side of the room. He sped over to it and found some of the components to be broken, most likely torn down from old age and limited use. He worked at quick speeds, fixing the generator. After he was done, he grabbed the large knife switch and pulled it up.

Large overhanging lights lit up around the room. The team looked around the concrete area. Instead of the traditional cave used by Bruce, this base resembled a large garage. A few pieces of machinery were placed around the room. One design looked like a large tank on wheels. A spare batsuit was placed in a chamber to the side. Computer stations were scattered about the place.

John: This is nice.

Y/N: Yeah, dude. I bet this took a bit to put together by yourself, though. You should have called us. We could have given you some of the tech you needed for here, maybe proposed some designs.

As Y/N was walking back to the others, he passed by a table. On it were blueprints for the wiring of the base. A logo in the corner of the blueprints labeled it as belonging to S.T.A.R. Labs.

Y/N: Oh, sweet. You did. Yeah, I recognize some of this. Cisco had a headache for about a weak trying to figure out why you needed BOTH satellite accessibility as well as inaccessibility. 

Alfred: Mr. Ramon and Dr. Wells had some input into the design. The outside is fitted with bio-dampening devices that may be turned on at any time should the situation arise. The computing system is able to access Wayne Industries' satellites without leaving a trace of its origin.

Victor looked at some of the computing systems.

Victor: Amazing. This is encryption software more complex than even the most secretive of government agencies know how to operate. Any signal that leads back to hear bounces off and reflects back to a WiFi signal given off 100 km away. Even I would have a hard time finding it.

Diana: Hopefully that means Grid won't be able to find it either.  

Alfred walked over to one of the computers and accessed it. He sat down in the seat before the monitor and began to pull up the network.

Alfred: Mr. L/N, if you would be so kind as to share what you brought back with you on your journey?

Y/N reached into his pocket and pulled out a thumb drive. On it was placed a green question mark. He handed it to Alfred who spotted the insignia. He looked up at Y/N with a raised brow.

Y/N: Long story. 

Y/N gave the old butler a sheepish grin. Alfred turned and inserted the drive into the computer. He pressed a few keys and started to download the files that had been shared.

Y/N: They didn't give me much, but what they did share is on Grid. Origins, network systems, biopsy, all that.

Victor: Maybe that means we could have intel on his system and how to regain control of the Hall. 

The compressed data began to pop up on window tabs on the screen. The group looked at it all. There were screens upon screens of data. Encoded messages and lines of digital code all spread out. Victor looked at the screen. He placed his hand on the monitor and closed his eyes. It took a bit longer than usual to break through the secure network, but he soon found himself inside.

In his mind, Victor remained in his half robotic form. He looked around at the system he was inside of. The place around him was a large flat surface with hills in the distance. Before him stood a small computer system. It looked like technology straight from the 1960s. He examined it. A small screen flickered on the side of the computer. A few recording databank wheels started to spin. A single acronym appeared on the screen. "Global. Reconnaissance. Investigation. Device." Cyborg guessed this was the beginning of Grid, how it started out. 

Suddenly, before Victor's eyes, the screen began to flicker. He looked at it with wide eyes of curiosity. An image of the globe was shown with datapoints all being collected and sorted. The screen flickered again, this time displaying files being sorted. Victor approached to screen. He brought up his mechanical hand to examine it. With his robotic finger, he gave a light tap on the glass, trying to get the static to clear up.

Just then, the entire computer began to shake. The screen cracked. From out of it spewed forth hundreds of files. Victor looked in astonishment. It was everything, all they needed on Grid and his internal systems. On the outside, the others could see the look of amazement on his face.

Diana: Vic, what is it?

Victor: It's here. Everything. All that is needed. We weren't just given data on Grid. We were given his internal backup memory banks. 

Cyborg looked around in amazement at everything before him. On the outside, his head piece lit up and began to display some of the images he was seeing. The others looked at it all. There were schematics, blueprints, data breaches, online activity sheets, pie charts, and so much more.

Victor then began to notice something. A few of the files flew over and hovered above the computer station. One popped up, giving a basic form of a large, chunky robot on wheels. The large computer shifted, its image morphing into that design. Another image file flew over and replaced the other one. This one had a sleeker design, one with arms and claws for hands. The computer shifted again into this design.

More and more files flew in, the computer changing and shifting as it evolved. Victor realized what was happening. The design was becoming more humanoid. He was watching Grid's evolution. The design finally stopped on that of the familiar white and silver robot.

Victor approached the humanoid figure. It was static, motionless. Victor brought up his hand above the figure to the floating file above it. He then proceeded to slide the files back. Design-by-design Grid began to revert back into its original form. Victor stopped when he reached the end. 

Grid was back in its old '60s computer station design. However, something caught Victor's attention. There was no blueprint, no file on this design. Instead, what was found was a line of code. It took Victor a moment, but he realized what it was. What it meant.

Victor: This is it.

Y/N: What? What is it?

Victor: Grid is not a machine. It never was. It's a virus. 

The others looked at Victor. He opened his eyes, coming out of his trance to look at his teammates.

Victor: He was made by a double agent trying to dismantle the CIA from the inside. It's a learning algorithm. It downloaded and began to steal files from the entire network. It must have gained sentience. It learned all the wrong things.

Y/N: I can tell you from my little visit to Earth-27, the moral codes of most there appear to be more skewed than here.

John: So this thing learned about humanity and all its worst aspects. That could only mean one