Upheaval: A Batman Story

It was the perfect night. At least, for Bruce Wayne.

19th February, 7:06 PM. Gotham City braced itself for Bruce's 36th birthday. For a couple of weeks now, Gotham's Favorite Son had been announcing his extravagant celebration.

"Everybody who's anybody is going to be there," he told Vicki Vale when pressed for further details. "You know how it is Ms. Vale. If you didn't get an invite, don't ask."

To the great amusement of his faithful butler, Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce also took to more modern platforms to boast about his upcoming party. One afternoon, he went to the manor grounds to stream himself on social media, surrounded by women (most of whom couldn't speak English) and drinks. He also managed to catch some people playing polo in the background.

Seemingly inebriated, Bruce blurted out "secret" activities planned for his birthday, involving celebrities and high-ranking politicians. He had, in fact, only taken ginger ale.

February 19th finally arrived. For some time now, Gotham was in quite a peaceful state. The city owed this to the efforts of the Gotham City Police Department, and to the vigilante known worldwide as Batman.

Inside Wayne Manor, the party was in full swing. Chatter and laughter filled the main hall. Clinking glasses and handshakes served at witnesses to back door deals and political maneuvers. Lavish decorations, exotic meals and a live orchestra engaged all the guests' senses. People hardly had time to take in the scenery when the next exquisite dish or classical music piece pulled their attention away.

Bruce Wayne was no stranger to all the commotion. Nonetheless, what his guests saw of him was more akin to a costume. Gotham's Favorite Son felt most comfortable, most authentic, in his Batman persona.

Even though he was the man of the hour, he felt uneasy. Gotham was at peace, yes, but he had been on alert for some weeks now. Calendar Man, of all people, had shared some interesting words concerning his birthday…

"Bruce Wayne?" a woman called to him, shaking him out of his train of thought.

"Uhh, yes. Miss… Lane, correct?"

"Why, yes!" she was flustered. "I didn't expect the iconic Bruce Wayne to recognize me."

"Well, you did get an invitation, didn't you?" he remarked with a touch of amusement.

"I- of course, Mr. Wayne. I just saw it as a formality since you have been planning a business expansion in Metropolis."

"Please, Ms. Lane, no talk of business tonight. Why don't you introduce me to your plus one here?"

A tall, muscular, but reserved man had been standing by Louis Lane's side all this time. She was too star-struck at that moment to remember this.

"U-oh, of course! I am so sorry Clark, caught off guard here! Mr. Wayne, Clark Kent. Clark, Bruce Wayne."

You would think the entire Manor froze in time. For what seemed to be a millennium, both men shook hands and locked eyes, seemingly sizing each other up, keenly aware that neither was being completely transparent. Bruce had never felt such a strong handshake in his life.

"A pleasure, Mr. Wayne."

"The pleasure's all mine Mr. Kent. You know, I don't recall ever hearing about you before."

"I'm a journalist. Louis and I work together on many cases."

"You don't say."

Another silence ensued. Bruce applied pressure.

"Say, Clark -may I call you Clark?- how does an athletic guy like you end up in journalism?"

Louis interjected. "Oh, Clark is much smarter than he lets on!" She was beaming. Bruce thought he detected a slight blush on the man's face.

"So it would seem!" Bruce replied. "As Ms. Lane pointed out earlier, I have certain business interests in Metropolis and I'm planning a trip soon. Is it safe with that Superman fellow running around?"

"As safe as it's ever going to be." Bruce felt his visitor had responded a little too quickly.

"Really, how can you be so sure?"

"He fights for good; he protects people. He seems good-hearted."

"You speak as if you know him personally."

He surveyed his guest's expression for any sign of discomfort. The man hailing from Metropolis wore an intense look. Did Bruce Wayne know? Determined, Clark decided to go on the offensive. He's had his own suspicions for weeks now…

"Just my observations as a journalist who's been following him for a while. Though, I'd rather have him to deal with than that lunatic Batman. The guy doesn't even show his face!"

Bruce was incensed, but he played it off as only he could.

"Clark, what's gotten into you?" Louis was concerned. He, in turn, remained steadfast.

"Ah well, each city gets what it deserves, I guess." Bruce Wayne would not be disarmed so easily. "If you ever meet him, tell him he's welcome to-"

With a slight buzz, his smartphone alerted him to an incoming call. Alfred, most likely.

"Sorry friends! I must take this. Important second quarter business, boring import stuff. Feel free to stay a bit longer!"

Both Louis and Clark followed his movements until he took a flight of stairs and disappeared into a left corridor. Louis was puzzled, but Superman knew this wasn't over.

On his way to the secret entrance leading to the Batcave, Bruce crossed paths with Vicki Vale. He was the first to speak.

"Ah, Ms. Vale."

"Bruce, you know you can call me Vicki, right?" she chided him with a silky voice.

"My apologies, Ms. Va- Vicki. Forgive me, but how did you get in?"

"Already forgot, Bruce? Yesterday, at the bar?" she asked, slowly closing the gap between them. "Those two tequilas really did a number on you Bruce. You practically begged me to accept the invitation. Did you change your mind again?"

"Did I really?" said Bruce with a nervous laugh.

"Ugh, men," remarked a playful Vicki.

"Well, uh, seeing as you're here, I hope you enjoy the evening."

"You're not staying, Bruce?" She was going for the kill.

"Can't. Important Wayne Enterprises business. But I'll be in touch! There's something I've been meaning to discuss."

"Get in line," Vicki retorted in dignified way. Despite her sudden nonchalance, they both knew she only had eyes for him.

He really did have a reason for wanting her there tonight. But that would have to wait.

Without responding, Bruce hurried off to meet Alfred. He reached the room that contained the grand piano that served as the key to enter his base of operations. He played the correct sequence and waited for the entrance to open.

Finally at the Batcave, he approached Alfred, who was currently sitting in front of the Batcomputer.

"What is it, Alfred?"

"I was only wondering if you finally settled on a partner. Ms. Vale seems awfully forward lately."

"You won't get rid of me that easily, Alfred. What's the situation?"

"Ace Chemicals. Observe."

Pointing at the screen, Batman saw something that shook him to his very core. He saw the face of a deceased middle-aged male. The man's eyes were wide open, and a smile was carved on his face from one ear to the other. Clean cuts.

On his forehead lay a Joker playing card. All the signs pointed, of course, to Batman's archnemesis bearing the same name. There was just one problem.

The Joker's been dead for two years.