Marvel 1919 : Rise of an Empire

The next day, as George sampled cuisine at another upscale restaurant, Bruce walked over and sat down across from him with practiced ease.

"Hello, George. My name is Bruce Wayne," Bruce said, his voice carrying that familiar gravitas.

"Of course, Mr. Batman." George put down his cutlery, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and looked up at the billionaire vigilante. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

"You know who I am?" Bruce asked, though he didn't seem particularly surprised.

"Of course I do. And in another timeline, we were very familiar with each other." George didn't lie to Bruce.

In the Suicide Squad timeline, George had learned various combat techniques directly from the Dark Knight himself.

"Ah, the concept of the Multiverse. That's truly fascinating, if not simple to comprehend." Bruce leaned forward slightly. "But I came here today to confirm something specific: I heard from Diana that you knew in advance that an enemy had arrived in this timeline?"

"Yes, unfortunately, Diana didn't trust me at the time." George took a measured sip of his water before continuing. "Can't say I blame her, really."

"We believe you now. We need capable people, and frankly, we're running short on time." Bruce's eyes remained fixed on George. "Are you willing to join us?"

"Trusting a stranger so easily makes me doubt if you're really the Bruce Wayne I remember," George said with a knowing chuckle.

"Someone recently taught me to try trusting others more," Bruce replied, and George caught the subtle reference to Superman's influence.

"Alright, I'm in." George threw a stack of bills on the table and stood up. "But I have conditions."

"Welcome aboard," Bruce said, rising as well. "We can discuss terms later. Right now, I need you to go to this airport and wait for me. I still have someone to pick up in Central City."

"Barry Allen?" George asked, feigning ignorance while knowing exactly who Bruce meant.

"Yes, he's also a metahuman. We need his speed and his heart for what's coming," Bruce replied.

"Of course, no problem. But I'll follow you there instead of waiting around." George walked toward the restaurant's exit before casually reaching into what appeared to be empty air. "I have my own transportation."

To Bruce's amazement, George directly pulled a Mercedes-Benz Vision GT identical to Bruce's own from what seemed like a pocket dimension.

"Now I definitely believe that we knew each other in your timeline," Bruce said, staring at the impossible sight of George's car materializing from nowhere.

"Told you so," George replied with a grin.

With the synchronized roar of high-performance engines, two Mercedes-Benz Vision GTs disappeared around the street corner. However, ever since the two men had emerged from the restaurant, no passersby had noticed their existence or their exotic vehicles.

This was a subtle effect of the perception magic George had quietly cast.

Inside a seemingly abandoned factory building in Central City, George and Bruce sat quietly in the shadows, waiting. The silence stretched between them until George finally broke it.

"Bruce, can you tell me the real reason we're doing this whole mysterious approach?"

"Mystery and intrigue. Don't all these young people respond well to that?" Bruce said with his trademark deadpan expression.

"I admire your flair for invisible showmanship, but perhaps what you're doing is a bit of a waste of time." George shook his head helplessly. "Maybe Barry would be very willing to join the team without all the theatrics?"

As if to prove George's point, when Barry Allen returned home and discovered that Batman needed his help, he agreed to join without a second thought. The reason was beautifully simple: Barry needed friends, he craved a sense of belonging, and here was someone offering exactly that.

Minutes later, George watched with amusement as Barry Allen happily emerged carrying an oversized three-person pizza. He practically bounced as he approached Bruce's sports car.

"Is this car standard issue for the team?" George heard Barry ask Bruce with barely contained excitement.

"Absolutely not," Bruce replied flatly.

Soon, the trio arrived at a private airfield where they boarded Bruce's personal jet. It was a modified large transport plane that had been converted into a mobile command center.

As they flew back toward Gotham, George couldn't help but appreciate the upgrade from commercial aviation.

While Bruce's recruitment efforts were proceeding smoothly, Diana's mission wasn't yielding the same results. Victor Stone, the Cyborg, was still wrestling with his transformed existence and harbouring deep resentment about social injustice.

He hadn't yet awakened to his heroic potential.

What defines a true hero? George mused as he stared out the aircraft window. It's someone who, when others desperately need help, can step forward without expecting anything in return, even if it means sacrificing their own life.

So when Diana had approached Cyborg with her recruitment pitch, all she'd received in return was a retreating figure. Victor still didn't know that his father would be captured by Parademons that very night, targeted because of his contact with a Mother Box.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, after Steppenwolf had brutally extracted information about the second Mother Box from the minds of captured Atlantean patrol members, he used the artefact's teleportation capabilities to transport himself directly to the underwater vault where Atlantis stored its Mother Box.

George, who was relaxing on Bruce's plane, suddenly felt a massive spatial disturbance ripple through dimensions. It was like a stone thrown into the fabric of reality itself.

"Something wrong?" Bruce immediately noticed George's expression shift from casual to alert.

"Unfortunately, yes. Darkseid's lieutenant has already located the second Mother Box," George said, his tone growing serious.

"That quickly? Can you teleport us there to intercept?" Bruce naturally knew from Diana that George possessed the ability to teleport.

"They're operating deep underwater in Atlantean territory. Teleporting there would be suicide for most of us," George glanced meaningfully at Bruce. "Even you don't have gills, last I checked."

"Then we need to locate the final Mother Box as quickly as possible, or it'll be game over for everyone."

The remainder of their journey continued in tense silence, each lost in thoughts of the approaching storm.

At Bruce's private helipad in Gotham, George, Bruce, and Barry had just descended via the cargo elevator alongside Bruce's car when they spotted Diana already waiting for them outside.

"Oh my God!" Barry breathed, and George could tell he was genuinely awestruck by Diana's otherworldly beauty.

"Where's Cyborg?" Bruce asked directly, noting Diana's solitary presence.

"His name is Victor, and we've met. We talked." Diana's voice carried quiet confidence. "Give him some time to process everything. He'll come around."

"Hello again, Diana." George offered a respectful nod.

"Hello, George. I owe you an apology. I should have trusted your warning from the beginning." Diana was characteristically direct, addressing the elephant in the room immediately.

"Think nothing of it. Maintaining healthy skepticism isn't something anyone should apologize for," George replied graciously.

"And you must be Barry." Diana turned toward the speedster with a warm smile. "I'm Diana."

"Hi, Barry, I mean, I'm Barry, you're Diana, wait, that's not, oh, this is great!" Barry stammered, clearly flustered by Diana's presence and making the entire exchange delightfully awkward.

George and Bruce exchanged knowing looks. If this were a comic book, there would definitely be large exclamation marks floating above their heads.

However, Diana, who had lived for over five thousand years, was long accustomed to such reactions. She smoothly changed the subject. "So it's just the four of us for now."

"That's right. Just us," Bruce confirmed grimly.

At that moment, Barry suddenly pointed toward Gotham's skyline and exclaimed, "Whoa, that's incredible! Is that the actual Bat-Signal?"

Across the city, Victor Stone had just returned to his apartment to discover the devastating truth. His father had been taken.

Clutching his father's broken glasses, he too noticed the Bat-Signal blazing against the night sky through his shattered window. Its light cut through the darkness like a beacon of hope.

After seeing the signal, George and the others exchanged meaningful glances before quickly finding secure locations to change into their battle gear.

When George emerged in his combat suit, both Bruce and Diana looked at him with obvious curiosity.

"What's wrong? Something off about the outfit?" George asked, glancing down at the sleek nanotechnology suit that had materialized around his body.

"I honestly expected a mage to wear flowing robes or at least a mystical cloak..." Diana admitted.

"Agreed. The aesthetic seems more technological than magical," Bruce concurred.

"That's precisely the point! Mages traditionally have terrible physical defence, so smart ones learn to stack armour!" George shook his head in mock exasperation.

"You clearly don't understand proper magical combat doctrine."

In reality, George's decision to don battle armor was purely tactical. It was a way to avoid revealing the true extent of his powers too early.

Whether he wore this advanced suit obtained from Predator technology was actually irrelevant to his capabilities, but appearances mattered in team dynamics.

When the group finally assembled on the rooftop where the Bat-Signal originated, they found Commissioner Gordon of the GCPD waiting for them. The iconic light illuminated his weathered face.

"How many of you are there exactly?" Commissioner Gordon asked with professional curiosity, clearly seeing Batman collaborate with others for the first time in his long career.

Bruce's response was characteristically blunt: "Not nearly enough."

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