Dawn broke with blood-orange light spilling across mountain peaks as Matt stood in the monastery's highest courtyard. The Final Test awaited.
Sandra circled him, her movements precise and deadly. "The Tenth Test is simple in concept, impossible in execution," she explained, voice carrying an edge of anticipation. "Land a single strike on me in unrestricted combat."
Matt rolled his shoulders, loosening muscles still recovering from the previous nine trials. Around the courtyard, monastery students and teachers gathered to witness what many considered an impossible challenge. No one had successfully struck Lady Shiva in combat in over fifteen years.
Which is why this will be a day that many of them never forget.
O-Sensei watched from a stone bench, his weathered face impassive. "Begin when ready."
Sandra didn't wait for Matt to prepare. She attacked instantly, covering the distance between them with frightening speed. For anyone else, the sudden assault would have been overwhelming.
Matt simply wasn't there when her strike landed.
He moved with impossible fluidity, as if he'd anticipated her attack before she'd even committed to it. Sandra's eyes widened fractionally, the only sign of surprise she allowed herself.
"Impressive," she murmured, repositioning for another attack sequence.
What followed wasn't just combat, it was art. Where Sandra attacked with textbook perfection, Matt responded with innovations that seemed to bend the very rules of fighting. He didn't just evade; he flowed like water around stone, each movement setting up three potential counters.
Five minutes into the exchange, Sandra escalated, unleashing techniques reserved for lethal encounters. Monastery students gasped as they recognized killing strikes being deployed in what should have been a test.
Matt handled these attacks with the same unnerving ease, staying just beyond her reach, reading her movements before they fully formed.
"Stop holding back," Sandra growled after another near miss.
Matt smiled slightly. "Okay..."
Something shifted in his stance, subtle but significant. The Beast's power flowed through him, not in a tidal wave but in a controlled current that enhanced his already formidable abilities. Yes, it was slowly but surely coming under his complete control...
His next movement blurred with near-supernatural speed. Sandra countered with adequate technique, but Matt wasn't aiming for where she defended. His palm struck her shoulder with precisely controlled force, enough to register contact without causing injury.
The courtyard fell silent.
Sandra froze, genuine shock evident in her posture. The entire exchange had lasted less than seven minutes.
"Contact," O-Sensei announced, satisfaction warming his voice. "Test completed successfully."
Matt lowered his hand, surprised at how easy it had ultimately been. Not because Sandra lacked skill, her reputation was well-earned, but because the combination of his two lifetimes of experience and the Beast's power had placed him in a category beyond conventional mastery.
He was just better.
"H-How?" Sandra asked quietly, professional enough to acknowledge defeat. "That sequence was perfect."
"Not perfect," Matt corrected. "Nothing is ever perfect. Hell, I'm not perfect, but I was just better."
For the first time since he'd met her, Sandra looked genuinely humbled. "Yes," she agreed after a moment. "You are."
.....
.....
"The Leopard Blow represents the pinnacle of offensive techniques," Sandra explained later that day. They had moved to a private training area deep within the monastery grounds. "A strike capable of stopping a human heart through armor."
Matt listened carefully as she detailed the precise mechanics. The technique wasn't just about physical force but about channeling energy through specific meridian points to create internal damage without external trauma.
"Most practitioners require years to master even the fundamentals," she continued. "We'll start with basic form and—"
"Like this?" Matt interrupted, executing a fluid movement that culminated in a strike against the training dummy. The impact was subtle, barely visible to observers, but the dummy's internal sensors registered catastrophic damage to simulated organs.
Sandra stared at the readout. "That's... impossible. You can't have mastered it from a verbal description."
Matt shrugged. "I've encountered similar concepts before."
"What? From where?" Sandra said sharply.
"Not really important," Matt replied with a half-smile.
Over the next five hours, Matt not only mastered the Leopard Blow but began developing variations that even Sandra hadn't considered. His ability to sense the subtle energy pathways through the human body gave him advantages other practitioners could never access.
By mid-afternoon, Sandra called a halt to the training, her normally impassive face showing rare amazement. "You've accomplished in hours what took me decades to perfect," she said, not bothering to hide her astonishment. "I-I have no words...."
"I'm a quick study," Matt replied modestly.
They returned to find O-Sensei arranging for a feast to be prepared. "A celebration is in order," the old master explained. "Not just for Matthew's completion of the Ten Tests, but for his imminent departure."
Matt nodded in agreement. "Sounds fun, thanks."
"A break from constant training eases the soul," O-Sensei confirmed. "Tomorrow, you begin a new path."
That evening, as monastery cooks prepared a traditional feast, Matt and O-Sensei sat in the master's private garden, sharing tea beneath ancient plum trees.
"Matthew, it may not feel like it.. but you've accomplished something remarkable here," O-Sensei said after a comfortable silence. "Not just the Tests themselves, but the manner of their completion."
"I had good teachers, I'll add you to that list as well." Matt replied with a kind smile.
"Perhaps teacher, only in title. But I suspect you came to us already carrying most of what you needed." The old master's voice held gentle curiosity. "Your soul bears the weight of experience beyond your years, Matthew."
He continued, "Whomever trained you, was phenomenal."
Matt could only agree internally, without Stick... well he wouldn't be...himself.
Matt considered carefully what to share. "He was amazing..in his own ways"
"So it was a he? Well, that's quite interesting." O-Sensei's eyes held a knowing gleam. Deciding not to pry further.
Matt shrugged, "Truthfully, he was kind of an asshole, but... he wasn't wrong."
Matt continued, "Regardless, I always picked up thigs fast, He just made sure I was good at everything being absorbed.. ya know?"
"I see...." O-Sensei observed with a hint of amusement. "So, what path will Matthew Gordon walk now that your time here is complete?"
Matt's expression hardened slightly. "I need to deal with the League of Shadows. I killed their leader, but according to Sandra, Talia al Ghul survived."
That's right, Matt had thought Talia would die after those injuries..
"Is vengeance your goal?"
"Justice," Matt corrected. "They're dangerous. With Ra's gone, the power vacuum could create even more chaos."
O-Sensei studied him thoughtfully. "There is a monastery called Shao-La, hidden in mountains few climbers attempt. The monks there practice spiritual disciplines that could help balance the power you carry."
"I appreciate the suggestion, I really do, but I should head back to Gotham. I've been away long enough."
"Shao-La isn't merely another training ground," O-Sensei explained. "They possess knowledge that predates human civilization. Knowledge that may help you understand the nature of the power within you."
Matt stilled. "Knowledge of the Beast?"
"Is that what you call it? Interesting." O-Sensei set down his tea cup. "Whatever it is, it's unlike anything I've encountered in my considerable lifetime. Learning to truly master it should take precedence over immediate vengeance."
"Why does it matter, the only reason she's alive is because I didn't finish her. I could beat her right now, I know it. Plus, Talia won't just wait around while I pursue spiritual enlightenment," Matt pointed out.
"Perhaps not. Maybe you could beat her now, no you would... But confronting her now, before you fully understand your own capabilities, would be premature."
"It's an insult to yourself, you should not move at the pace of others while on your journey." O-Sensei's voice softened. "Matthew, whatever path you choose, know that I am proud to have played even a small role in your journey."
The motivational statement and praise caught Matt off-guard. "You taught me more than you realize," he said quietly. "About control. About balance. I needed it, even if you didn't think so."
"Then my time was well spent." O-Sensei smiled. "Now come. The feast awaits. I'm hungry."
...
.....
The monastery's main hall had been transformed for the evening's celebration. Lanterns cast warm light across long tables laden with traditional dishes. Students and teachers mingled freely, the usual hierarchies temporarily suspended in the spirit of festivities.
Matt found himself surrounded by younger students eager to hear about his experiences in the outside world. He shared carefully edited stories of Gotham and his previous life in New York, earning laughs with his description of American food and city life.
From across the room, Sandra watched him with interest, seated beside O-Sensei at the head table.
"He fits in surprisingly well for someone so exceptional," she observed. "They actually like him."
"Matthew carries his abilities without arrogance," O-Sensei replied. "A rare quality among warriors of his caliber."
Sandra sipped her rice wine. "I've been humbled," she admitted, the confession clearly difficult. "For the first time in many years."
"A valuable experience for someone on your path."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "What exactly do you mean by that?"
"You've spent decades perfecting your combat skills, Sandra. Yet perfection is a moving target." O-Sensei nodded toward Matt, who was demonstrating blind navigation techniques to fascinated students. "That young man has barely scratched the surface of his potential."
"He's already extraordinary," Sandra countered.
"Yes. Imagine what he'll become in five years. Or ten." O-Sensei's voice dropped, gaining intensity. "You would be a fool not to follow him."
Sandra stiffened, eyes narrowing. "I'm not a follower."
"Then call it a partnership of equals, if it makes you feel better." The old master's eyes held unusual gravity. "He will change everything, Sandra. You know me, I don't say these things for show... He will change the world."
"You never spoke of Dragon this way," she noted, referencing O-Sensei's most famous student.
"Yes, yes...Richard was exceptional. Matthew is..." O-Sensei paused, searching for the right word. "Transcendent."
Across the room, Matt laughed at something one of the students said, the sound unexpectedly genuine. Sandra studied him with new eyes, seeing not just the fighter who had defeated her, but something more nuanced. A generationally talented man carrying shadows and light in equal measure.
Perhaps O-Sensei was right.
________________________
Rose Wilson crouched on a Gotham rooftop, watching three men unloading suspicious crates from a van in the alley below. The Ravager costume felt more natural with each passing night, the mask, the swords, the identity separate from her father's legacy.
Her comm unit crackled. "Northeast quadrant secure. Moving to your position."
Batman's voice. Not exactly a partnership, more like parallel operations with occasional intersections. The Dark Knight didn't approve of her methods, but he'd stopped trying to shut her down after she'd saved those kids from the warehouse fire last month.
"Three tangos," she reported. "Unloading what looks like Penguin's latest shipment."
"Hold position. Robin is en route to your location."
Rose suppressed a sigh. Batman's new sidekick was skilled but reckless, a street kid with more attitude than discipline. Reminded her a bit of herself, which wasn't entirely a compliment.
A flash of yellow and red announced Robin's arrival on the adjacent rooftop. The kid moved with surprising stealth for someone wearing such bright colors.
"Ravager," he acknowledged with a nod. "Batman wants us to hit them simultaneously. You take the two on the left, I'll handle the driver."
Rose raised an eyebrow behind her mask. "Giving orders now, bird boy?"
Robin grinned, unrepentant. "Just passing along the big man's instructions. Unless you've got a better idea?"
She didn't, so thirty seconds later they were dropping into the alley in perfect synchronization. Rose took down her two targets with efficient strikes to pressure points, non-lethal but extremely effective. The men dropped without raising an alarm.
Robin, meanwhile, had the driver pinned against the van, the man's arm twisted in a textbook submission hold. "Told you I could handle it," the kid said proudly.
"Not bad," Rose admitted. "Your form's improving."
Batman materialized from the shadows, seemingly appearing from nowhere despite Rose's enhanced senses. "Check the crates," he instructed Robin, who immediately began examining the shipment.
"Working with children now?" Rose asked quietly.
"He's got potential," Batman replied, his voice neutral. "Like someone else I know."
Before Rose could respond, Robin called out. "Weapons grade explosives. Enough to take down a city block."
Batman nodded, something like approval flitting across the exposed portion of his face. "Good work. Both of you."
It wasn't exactly effusive praise, but from Batman, it might as well have been a standing ovation. Rose watched as Robin practically glowed with pride, securing the evidence with meticulous attention to detail.
"Any word on Matthew Gordon?" she asked Batman suddenly.
The white lenses of his cowl fixed on her. "Why do you ask?"
"Just curious." Her tone was deliberately casual. "Been a while since North Point."
"Last confirmed sighting was in Nepal. Trail's gone cold since then."
Rose nodded, keeping her expression neutral behind her mask. Nepal. Close to the Himalayan monastery regions. Matt was still alive, still out there somewhere. Good.
"Listen, if you hear anything..." she began.
"I'll let you know," Batman finished, surprising her with what seemed like genuine understanding.
As GCPD sirens approached, they melted away into Gotham's shadows.
________________
Dawn had barely touched the eastern sky when Matt finished packing his few belongings. The monastery slept, only early-rising monks moving quietly through morning rituals.
He sensed Sandra's approach before she reached his door. Her heartbeat was steady, her breathing controlled, perfectly composed as always.
"You're leaving," she stated as she entered without knocking.
"Yes." Matt shouldered his small pack. "O-Sensei suggested Shao-La might have answers I need."
"It's a difficult journey. Treacherous terrain, unpredictable weather."
Matt smiled slightly. "Ah, worried about me?"
"Hardly." Her tone was dismissive, but her heartbeat betrayed the lie. "I've decided to accompany you."
That surprised him. "What? I don't need a guide."
"This isn't about your needs." Sandra's voice held its usual edge. "Shao-La holds knowledge I've long been curious about. Our paths simply happen to align."
Matt studied her, sighing and then saying. "Look...Sandra, If you're still thinking about your breeding program—" he began.
"I'm not interested in creating some genetically engineered superwarrior," she interrupted, though her pulse jumped slightly at the half-truth. "I'm interested in reaching my full potential as a fighter. You... challenge me in ways no one has in years."
Matt considered this. Having Sandra Wu-San as a traveling companion wasn't what he'd planned, but her skills were undeniable. And there was something about her single-minded devotion to her art that he respected, despite their philosophical differences.
"Alright," he agreed finally. "But this is a partnership. Not a teacher-student relationship."
"Agreed." She moved toward the door. "The eastern path leaves in thirty minutes. Don't be late."
As she disappeared down the corridor, Matt sensed O-Sensei's approach.
"She's chosen to follow you," the old master observed.
"Apparently so."
"Sandra Wu-San follows no one," O-Sensei said with gentle amusement. "Remember that in the days ahead."
Matt bowed deeply to his teacher. "Thank you for everything."
"Our paths will cross again, Matthew Gordon." O-Sensei returned the bow. "Of that, I have no doubt."
As Matthew walked away, O-sensei could only smirk and say internally. 'Change the world, boy. Change the world...'
.....
The path to Shao-La would take them through some of the most isolated terrain on Earth, jagged mountains, hidden valleys, areas where conventional maps showed only blank spaces.
As they descended the first ridge, Matt tensed suddenly.
"What is it?" Sandra asked, instantly alert.
"We're being watched," he murmured, extending his senses to their limits. "Southeast ridge. Multiple observers. Heartbeats controlled, breathing disciplined."
Sandra's hand moved casually to the knife concealed at her waist. "League assassins?"
"Similar training, different rhythm." Matt focused on subtle scents carried on the mountain breeze. "Best guess is they've split from the main group."
"Nyssa," Sandra concluded. "Ra's al Ghul's other daughter. She's been gathering followers, calling themselves the Veil of Nine."
"Great...just great. And apparently taking an interest in us." Matt continued walking, giving no outward sign he'd detected their observers. "Think they'll attack?"
Sandra matched his pace. "Eventually. Nyssa wouldn't waste resources on mere surveillance."
"Good." Matt's smile held nothing of warmth. "I've been meaning to send a message to what remains of the League."
Sandra studied him with newfound appreciation, a battle-hungry smirk plastered on her face. "I was right to follow you," she said quietly. "This will be... educational."
As they continued their descent, eight black-clad figures watched from concealed positions along the ridge above. Elite assassins of the Veil of Nine, they tracked the travelers with single-minded focus, unaware that their quarry was not only aware of their presence but anticipating the confrontation to come.
At their center stood a ninth figure, taller, commanding, with eyes that burned with cold determination. Nyssa al Ghul studied the blind man who had killed her father, memorizing his movements, analyzing his capabilities.
"Patience," she instructed her disciples. "We observe first. Strike when the moment is perfect."
It was almost poetic.
A blind man who had conquered death itself. The world's deadliest assassin. And the daughter of the Demon, determined to avenge her father's murder and destory Talia al Ghul for good....
The mountains would soon witness a reckoning, not in debris, but in blood..