Note: Batman is one of the characters you'll find that has the least, but largest changes (if that makes any sense) in my Infinite Universe. And in case you're wondering (if you've read my IU Superman) why all the characters are younger, like 21 or so, it's because it's very Ultimate Marvel-ish and I like writing young characters. It makes them feel more new to me. And so, without further adieu, I present to you…



"…and he's a one of the smartest men in the world. Please help me welcome home The Man, The Myth, The Legend: Bruce Wayne!" The 20-year-old news reporter star Vicki Vale exclaimed as the doors to Bruce Wayne's private jet opened up.

Young, 21-year-old Bruce Wayne stepped out of the hatch, smiling and waving to the large crowd of reporters and stalkers that had gathered around his private jet.

He strolled down the short stairs that led to his ever-faithful butler and father figure, Alfred Pennyworth. Alfred had been the Wayne's butler for almost fifty years but the old man barely showed it. He smiled his kind, gentle smile at Bruce as he opened the door to the pure black limo that he would be driving Bruce home in.

"Welcome home, Master Bruce," Alfred greeted.

"It's good to be home, Alfred." Bruce entered the limo, avoiding the people around him that were asking questions and trying to grab a hold of him.

The drive to Wayne Manor was filled with small talk until Bruce broke the pointless questions, "Alfred, why is it that hundreds of people spend thousands of dollars just to see a twenty-one-year old come home after a only fairly long exodus while people in Gotham are starving?"

Alfred paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer, "Well, sir, I believe it's because you're Bruce Wayne. Not everyone in the world watched their parents murdered right in front of their eyes and are the sole heir to a multi-billion dollar corporation."

"Not everyone in the world, surely, but in Gotham I'm one of many. One of very many…" The two were silent for about half a minute.

"And to answer my question," Bruce broke the silence, "it's because they're all trash. Vain, sick, cruel trash." Bruce stated coolly.

And that ended their conversations until they reached the Manor. Alfred stepped out of the car and opened the door for Bruce.

"After you, sir." Alfred extended his hand towards the door.

Bruce thanked the older man and he walked up the dark, granite steps to the door. He enclosed his fist around the cold, gold doorknob and gently opened the door.

He examined the entry hallway, "Nothing's changed."

"Nothing except for you, sir." Alfred took a step towards Bruce and stood by him, staring at the house.

Bruce chose to ignore the comment and he began to walk to the living room, and Alfred followed him.

"Did you get what I asked?" Bruce asked.

Alfred knew what his young master meant and simply answered, "Yes."


Bruce continued to approach the living room couch as Alfred said, "Master Bruce, with all due respect, I wish to know: what are you planning? Are you creating an army? I mean, one must assume with all the equipment and…"

"We'll get to that soon, Alfred, but not now." Bruce collapsed onto the red, silk couch and turned on the TV.

"Now, I rest. For one hour. Give me until then to explain it to you." Bruce flipped through the channels.

"One hour to rest? You've been gone for seven years, going from place to place, working harder and harder at each college and…where ever else you visited and you only give yourself an hour to rest. Honestly, Master Bruce, what is going…"

Alfred was stopped by Bruce who stopped changing channels, stared at the news intensely and said, "Alfred, who is that?"

On the News there was a picture of a lone man. The man had long, dark hair and he wore blue armor with a cape hanging over his shoulders. The man had an S melded into his armor and appeared to be floating in the air.

"That, Master Bruce, is Superman. Or at least that's what he told people to call him. He appeared yesterday, having saved an entire plane and football stadium full of people," Alfred stated.

"What? How did he save a plane and stadium of people? What happened?" Bruce exclaimed.

"Well, a plane's engine broke and it began to plummet to the ground. Superman flew up and using 'super-strength' of sorts he stopped it before it crashed into a filled football stadium."

"Oh my God. Alfred, I want you to record and save anything new about this Superman that comes up anywhere. Send it to my personal computer. Also, find everything you can on him…I mean facial recognitions, finger prints, everything," Bruce ordered.

"Yes, sir," Alfred said surprised. He dared not ask what interested Bruce so much about this Superman…and Alfred could tell it wasn't simply because the Superman could fly.

Bruce stood from the couch and looked to Alfred, "And Alfred, about the whole 'what-are-you-doing' thing, I'm becoming a masked vigilante that goes out into the night and brings justice to those that deserve and striking fear into their hearts."

Alfred paused, completely shocked, "Is this a joke, Master Bruce? A masked vigilante? Like a superhero?"

Bruce didn't respond and he simply walked upstairs to his bedroom.

He lay in the bed for almost thirty minutes, just staring at the ceiling. Alfred waltzed in. The two didn't say anything for nearly ten minutes…

"Master Bruce, I understand why you're doing what you're doing and I'm not going to question it…but I have to ask…how are you going to scare them? The thieves, thugs, gang members, murderers, rapists and God-knows-what-else comes out during the night?"

Bruce continued to stare at the ceiling and didn't say a word for almost a minute, "That's a good question, Alfred…"

"…I need a symbol. Something that will scare every one of them."

"Master Bruce, they aren't cowards. This isn't –as they say- their first rodeo. They aren't the type to be frightened easily."

"I beg to differ, Alfred. Criminals are the most scared lot of people in the world. Half the things they do are because they're scared. Scared of poverty. Scared of death. Scared of life. And most importantly, scared of being scared."

Bruce sat up from his bed and began o stroll through the mansion, Alfred following right behind him. They arrived in the office, where a high-pitched squeaking noise filled the room.

"What the hell is…" Bruce looked up. Stuck in the room was a small black bat.

Bruce's face filled with a mixture of awe, delight and anger as he stared at the flying mammal.

"Alfred, is the cave outside the Manor still there?"

"Yes, of course, sir. Why do you ask?" Alfred asked.

Bruce left the room without a word.

Bruce had fallen in the cave when he was a boy while he played hide and seek with Tommy Elliot, his best friend. He was found there shivering. Bruce claimed he'd been attacked by bats. Because of that, Bruce became extremely paranoid and his father went to great lengths to calm his son. Thomas Wayne boarded up the entrance to the cave and even left a movie early, after Bruce complained about the bats in it. That, and begging his father to go down a shortcut forever haunted Bruce, even to this day. Because of Bruce, or so he believed, his parents had been murdered by a simple man who needed money, Joe Chill. Because of both fear and anger, Joe shot both of Bruce's parents and ran away, eager to not have to injure the boy and to not get caught.

Bruce stopped just outside the cave. It was boarded up still, and mold had begun to grow on the wooden planks.

Bruce stood there for a while before he noticed Alfred standing next to him.

"I know what the symbol is going to be…I know what will strike fear into the hearts of those that deserve justice," Bruce stated.

"The Bat." Alfred said.

"The Bat," Bruce agreed and he kicked the planks in.

"Sir, I'm not sure that's a good idea…" Bruce had already jumped into the hole before Alfred had finished the sentence.

Bruce landed with a THUMP! But was unharmed. He looked up to Alfred who was staring down the hole at him.

"Are you alright, sir?" Alfred asked.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Alfred, I'll be gone for a little while but I want you to wait there for me. If I'm not back in an hour call 911." Bruce said and he began to wander through the cave, without an answer and a guiding light.

He walked through the cave for minutes, finding his way by having one hand constantly touching a wall and listening to every sound he heard.

Eventually he heard the sound of water crashing against rocks and he stopped. He was standing just above a small waterfall. Directly above him were hundreds upon hundreds of bats.

"This is it."

Approximately 12:30 pm

"That should be the last of it…" Bruce took in a deep breath and looked at his butler Alfred and then to the massive cave stretched around him. Between Alfred and him and special equipment, they'd managed to move everything Bruce had told Alfred to order, get from Wayne Tech, or other sources. The cave was now sort of set up. Tables were scattered around it, tools and other gadgets and materials around the cave. Even a sleek black, bullet proof car was there. The car had two tailfins and an AI system inside it.

"Yes, I believe that is it, sir. Now if it's alright, I would like to sit down." Alfred was sweating profusely. It wasn't the smartest thing in the world to carry around heavy equipment for hours when you're sixty-something years old. He collapsed to the ceiling and stared at the bats circling around the artificial lights Bruce and he had set up.

Bruce approached the large table he'd set in the middle of thee cave. Dozens of large boards of what looked to be metal lay on the table. Bulletproof, Nanite infused Kevlar laid just below the table. A large black cape of an unknown material was right next to the Kevlar. Tools were scattered all around.

"It's time to get to work," Bruce grinned.

9:45 pm

Alfred approached Bruce who was covered in grime and dirt, standing over his new "work table."

"Master Bruce, it's been hours and you haven't stopped working. Not even to eat! Will you please take a break," Alfred exclaimed while setting down a tray of food by Bruce's feet.

Alfred must admit, however, he was impressed. Scattered all around Bruce were hundreds of bat-shaped boomerangs. They were extremely sharp on all sides.

"Not quite yet," Bruce said, still standing over his worktable and an unknown project.

"Please, sir, it's unhealthy." Alfred stated.

Suddenly Bruce stood up straight, holding a chest shaped Kevlar vest. A large black bat symbol was right in the middle and a cape hung over the back.

"Is that your-" Alfred noticed all the pieces of Kevlar around them, some shaped like leggings, some like boots, one even looked like a mask, but all of them were pure black.

"My Costume? Yes." Bruce showed Alfred his arms. They were covered in black metal gauntlets with three black finned blades on the outer sides.

"That is truly amazing, sir, but will you please stop and rest?" Alfred begged.

Bruce took of his shirt to expose Under Armor and he slipped on the black Kevlar chest.

"Justice never rests, Alfred," Bruce stated, already putting on the rest of the suit.

"Please, sir, it's really starting to get late."

"That's the point Alfred. Bats come out during the night. And so do the scum of Gotham," Bruce put on the last thing: his mask.

Bruce said, "Alfred, I'll have plenty of equipment to help me." He pointed to the belt attached to his waist. About fifty of the "batarangs" were hidden under many of the slots in the belt. A grappling gun was attached to the side of it.

"Master Bruce, how are you even going to get to Gotham? It's miles away from the Manor." Alfred asked, having given up trying to convince Bruce to stop.

Bruce approached the car in the middle of the cave. With a simple verbal command the top opened up for him.

"Why and how do you think I got my new 'Batmobile' in here? It's to travel to Gotham. There's an exit just about a mile, that way," Bruce pointed to one side of the cave, where it seemed to go on and on forever.

The Batmobile sped off, the wheels sliding against the rough terrain smoothly.

Bruce arrived in the city in less than an hour. He hopped out of the car, just outside of an abandoned school.

He shot the grappling gun to the top of a building and began to jump and glide between buildings.

He had travelled through the city for barely a minute before he heard screams of distress.

He followed the sound to an alleyway. A certain alleyway that had been fenced around years before, the white chalk outline of a man and a woman's body on the granite ground. This alley had been named Crime Alley because it was the place where Thomas and Martha Wayne were murdered.

A little boy was standing behind his mother, and an older man holding a gun stood in front of them. A man lay in a pool of blood on the ground.

"No, Robert!" The woman screamed.

Anger filled Bruce and he was on top of the murderer before the man could pull the trigger again.

The man looked up at Bruce, fear in his eyes. The same fear Bruce had seen fourteen years ago when his parents were killed. The same fear he'd seen in the eyes of Joe Chill.

Bruce knocked the man unconscious with one punch. He turned to the family. The boy stood over his dying father. Bruce couldn't bear to be there any longer.

He grabbed onto the murderer and grappled to the building above. He carried the man all the way to the Police Station where he dropped him on the front door. He left and began his search for justice anew.

The Gotham Police Department, The Next Day

Jim Gordon inhaled one last breath of his cigarette before he headed back inside. Jim was one of the few honest cops left in Gotham. He was currently ranked Lieutenant and he lived with his wife, Barbara, and two kids, James and Barbara Jr.

Jim quickly walked into the room where Bob Kirkland currently sat. The previous night Bob had murdered a man for his wallet. He'd claimed he'd been stopped, beaten and brought to the police by a bat. Jim was there to question him and find out who really brought him to the police.

"You are Robert Kirkland, correct?" Jim asked first.

"Yes, sir," Bob was glancing around; obviously paranoid someone was going to attack him.

"And you murdered a Mr. Robert Jones, correct?" Jim asked.

"Yes, sir," Robert exclaimed.

Jim sighed; it was never this easy. Something or someone must have really scared this guy.

"And you claim you were attacked by a bat?" Jim asked, anger starting to boil.

"Nuh…No…" Bob Kirkland muttered.

Jim stopped, shocked. He'd been told the man had claimed he was attacked by a bat. Either this was a breakthrough or he had been lied to.

"Who did attack you then?" Jim shouted.

"It wasn't a bat…" Bob started to shiver…

"…It was a Bat-Man."

Note: Yeah, that's it! I hope you enjoyed it. Personally I didn't think it was one of my best stories but it will get better! Please check out my other Infinite Universe stories as well! And I know this was kind of rushed so sorry…And now to discuss this story. So far there haven't been any big changes. The next chapter is going to take place six months after this one. Anyone who likes and wants to see my Infinite Robin you'll have to wait a surprisingly short amount of time! ;) It'll be about ten chapters before he shows up.

Next- Six Months Later…