"The parties responsible for the Massacre in Hell's Kitchen still remain at large, and police warn that everyone should stay in their homes past 9 PM for your own safety," A woman's voice spoke up from one of many monitors that lined a cave wall.

"Master Bruce, your tea," A British regal voice spoke up from behind a man sitting before the screen, his fists against each other while his eyes gazed at the screens.

Noticing that his master did not hear him, he spoke up again, this time louder than before.

"Master Bruce? YOUR Tea," the butler said firmly, stirring the man staring at the screens from his thoughts.

"Did you say something, Alfred?" Bruce asked.

"Yes, I made you some tea," Alfred informed his master, setting down the platter in his hand that had a porcelain cup of steaming tea.

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce thanked the butler, grabbing the cup and taking a small sip before focusing on some of the other screens.

On some of the screens, there seemed to be camera feeds all looking over a single building, while on another was a list of names and locations.

[Ancient One, Kamar-Taj]

[Doctor Fate, Salem]

[John Constantine, London]

[Doctor Strange, Kamar-Taj]

[Zatanna Zatara, Vegas]

"When will you leave, Sir?" The Butler asked.

"I will be leaving tonight," Bruce spoke.

"And who do you plan on visiting, sir?" Alfred asked.

"Zatanna Zatara and her father, Giovanni Zatara, two supposed practitioners of the Magic Arts down in Vegas," Bruce informed the butler, remaining stoic and clearly tired.

"The two street magicians?" Alfred asked, confused.

"Correct."

"Are you sure about this, sir?" Alfred asked, clearly not believing that two famous street magicians could actually do magic.

"What's wrong, Alfred?" Bruce asked.

"You have a few meetings and a shareholder meeting in three days, and I worry that by the time you return, you will be too exhausted and require rest," Alfred explained.

"I'll sleep on the plane," Bruce answered simply.

"Will you?" Alfred asked accusingly.

Bruce didn't answer.

Sighing, Alfred shook his head, "Sir, I say this not only as your butler but also as your friend. You need rest. You cannot function on only coffee and a few hours of sleep. You will collapse at this rate, and I worry for both your mental and physical health," Alfred stated, worried.

Bruce sighed, relaxing into his chair.

"Alright. I'll try to get some rest for the next few days, refresh my mind," Bruce told Alfred, too tired to continue denying.

Alfred smiled, "Thank you, Sir."

When Alfred left the cave, heading back up to the Mansion to clean and reorganize, Batman pulled up another screen.

On this screen was a name.

[Dick Grayson]

A young boy in the Juvenile System.

One who was orphaned after his parents were murdered by a Gotham crime boss and one who grew up as an outcast, as his family worked in a circus.

There were multiple reasons why the boy caught Bruce's attention, but the largest was he could sympathize with the boy. He lost his own parents before his eyes to some of the criminal elements that called Gotham his home.

Sighing, Bruce considered doing something he never pictured he could ever do.

Perhaps Alfred was right. He was but one man, one that was against an entire city...but what if he wasn't alone? What if he could get help?

Shaking his head, he denied such thoughts. 

The boy was innocent, and Bruce would never wish anyone to hold up the same mantle as he, for he was destined to fight till his last days, as Crime could truly never end unless Free Will was taken away.

But...perhaps he could still give the boy a life he deserved, one that Bruce never got himself.

Sighing, he got from his chair and walked past a mannequin featuring a black outfit, one that any knowledgeable villain would know. It was the suit of Batman.

As he walked away, one of the screens flickered to life.

[Person of Interest Found]

On the screen, a street bustling with life suddenly flickered on as a man with brunette hair. The man was in his late 30s or early 40s and seemed to be down on his luck, clearly tired and exhausted.

[Todd Andrew Howard - Age: 38 Years Old - Profession: Video Game Creator]

...

Approximately 168 miles north of Gotham lies a giant city known to house the strongest and most charismatic hero, Superman.

That city was none other than the City of Metropolis.

Floating distantly above the city was a man wearing a costume of red and blue with an S on his chest.

It was none other than Superman, otherwise known as Clark Kent, son of Jonathan Kent and Martha Kent.

However, he was not born on Earth. In fact, he was born on Krypton to Jor-El and his mother, Lara Lor-Van.

His true name is Kal-El, and he is a true son of Krypton.

As the Kryptonians were Isolationists, most dwelled on their homeworld of Krypton, but after a cataclysmic event, few Kryptonians remained across the Universe after their home planet's destruction.

To save Kal-El, his biological parents sent Kal-El to Earth in hopes that he would live, and so, his pod crashed one night into the field of one Johnathan and Martha Kent's farm.

When Johnathan found Kal-El's pod, the last thing he would have expected was a child and a dog sleeping peacefully within the clearly alien pod.

Honorable man that he was, Johnathan and Martha took the two in, raising them on their farm.

Kal-El grew up as a child of Earth, but he was far from human.

As he grew up, he unlocked various powers due to the radiation of the sun and his biology as a Kryptonian.

He gained super strength, x-ray vision, invulnerability, the ability to fly, heat vision, super hearing, super speed, and so much more.

If anyone lesser had the same powers and abilities as Superman, they would claim themselves to be the new God of Earth, but that's not what Kal-El wanted.

No, he was a simple man raised by simple humans. He had such strong abilities, and what better use for them than to help other people and stop injustice?

That's what makes Superman one of the most loved heroes on Earth.

But...he felt alone.

He was not human.

He thought he was the last.

What he did not know was that soon, he would no longer be alone.

For Kara, Zor-El would soon arrive, and Kal-El would no longer be the only Kryptonian on Earth.

...

As Superman floated above Metropolis, he carefully listened and scanned through all the noise coming from the mega city.

The acute hearing he honed over his life allowed him to hear anything and everything within the City all at once.

Suddenly hearing a scream, his head locked onto where the scream came from, and then, faster than the eye could see, he flew towards the source like a speeding bullet.

Once again, Superman was off to save the day, as he found it was his God-given duty to help whoever he could with the gifts he had been given.