Rain pounded Gotham like it had a grudge against the city. Tony stood on the rooftop across from Arkham Asylum, water streaming down his red leather coat, plastering white hair to his forehead. The gothic monstrosity of the asylum loomed through the downpour, its stone gargoyles leering at him through the gloom.
"Nice place," he muttered, wiping rain from his eyes. "Really nails that 'abandonment issues' aesthetic."
Beside him, Robin stood perfectly still despite the deluge, his cape shedding water like a duck's feathers. The kid had style, Tony had to admit.
"Arkham houses the most dangerous criminals in Gotham," Robin said, his tone suggesting he was reciting from some Bat-manual. "Many have metahuman abilities or access to technology that makes them extremely dangerous."
"And you're telling me this because...?"
"Because I need you to understand the stakes," Robin replied. "We're not just dealing with cultists here. If our intelligence is correct and a Church of Blood operative has infiltrated the staff, they could potentially influence some of the most dangerous minds in the city."
Tony sighed dramatically. "Relax, Boy Wonder. This isn't my first rodeo in the nuthouse. Demons love the criminally insane. All that delicious trauma to feed on."
Robin shot him a sideways glance, clearly unsure if Tony was joking. He wasn't, but explaining demon feeding habits would only complicate things further.
"The others are in position," Robin said instead, checking the small computer built into his gauntlet. "Superboy and Impulse are covering the east and west perimeters. Raven is monitoring the astral plane for any unusual energy signatures."
"And your boss?" Tony asked, referring to Batman. "Still brooding in his cave?"
"Batman is coordinating from the Batcave. He has direct access to Arkham's security systems." A pause. "He still doesn't fully trust you."
Tony grinned. "Smart man. I don't fully trust me either."
That earned him a ghost of a smile from Robin, gone so quickly Tony almost thought he'd imagined it.
"Our mission is reconnaissance only," Robin continued. "We identify the cultist, gather evidence, and report back. No confrontation unless absolutely necessary."
"Boring," Tony complained, checking Ebony and Ivory to ensure the rain hadn't compromised them. The enchanted guns could probably function underwater, but old habits died hard. "But fine. I'll play nice."
Robin activated his communicator. "Team, status report."
"Perimeter west clear," came Impulse's voice, surprisingly focused. "No unusual movement."
"East perimeter secure," Superboy reported. "Thermal scans show normal guard patterns."
"I sense... disturbances," Raven's voice was faint, distorted by whatever mystical state she had entered. "Not demonic yet, but... corrupted. Something is wrong inside."
Robin met Tony's eyes. "That confirms our intel. We move now."
They descended from the rooftop silently, using Robin's grapple gun. Tony could have jumped and landed safely, but he played along with the theatrics. Inside stuff like this was important to hero types.
The asylum's main gate was heavily guarded, but they weren't heading for the front door. Robin led them to a maintenance entrance on the north side, relatively unguarded due to its proximity to the cliff edge that dropped straight into Gotham Bay.
"Security override in progress," Robin whispered, attaching a small device to the electronic lock. "We'll have thirty seconds once it opens."
Tony nodded, tension coiling in his stomach. Not fear, exactly. More like anticipation. His demon half always stirred when danger approached, hungry for the adrenaline rush of combat. He pushed it down. This was a stealth mission, not a brawl.
The door clicked open, and they slipped inside, finding themselves in a utility corridor lined with pipes and electrical conduits. The asylum's infrastructure was as decrepit as its exterior, with rust staining the walls and water dripping from ceiling joints.
"Real luxury accommodation," Tony commented quietly. "I've seen nicer demon nests."
"Arkham isn't meant to be comfortable," Robin replied, checking his gauntlet computer. "We need to reach the staff areas. The new hire, Dr. Brenner, should be working in the Intensive Treatment wing tonight."
They moved through the maintenance tunnels, Robin navigating with practiced ease. Tony followed, his heightened senses alert for any signs of demonic energy. The further they went into the asylum, the stronger the wrongness grew, prickling against his skin like static electricity.
"There's definitely something funky going on here," he whispered. "Demonic influence, but subtle. Manipulative rather than direct possession."
Robin looked back at him. "Can you track it?"
"Like following a bad smell. This way." Tony pointed down a side corridor that wasn't on their planned route.
Robin hesitated only briefly before nodding. "Lead on."
The corridor ended at a heavy metal door marked "Staff Only." Robin bypassed the lock with another device from his utility belt, and they entered what appeared to be a locker room. Empty at this hour, with the night shift already on duty.
Tony moved from locker to locker, his fingers trailing inches from the metal surfaces. He stopped at one in the corner, its door slightly dented.
"This one," he said. "Something's been stored here that reeks of demonic energy."
Robin approached cautiously. "Can you open it without leaving evidence?"
Tony snorted. "Please. I was picking locks before you were born." He produced a thin metal tool from his coat and had the locker open in seconds.
Inside was standard stuff on the surface: a change of clothes, some protein bars, a medical journal. But Tony immediately spotted what felt wrong. Underneath everything else, partially hidden by a folded lab coat, was a small wooden box carved with familiar symbols.
"Bingo," he murmured, carefully lifting it out. "Our cultist friend left their lunch box behind."
Robin peered at the box. "Those markings match what we saw at the warehouse and in the underground temple."
"Church of Blood, guaranteed." Tony debated opening it, but decided against it for now. "Let's find this Dr. Brenner and see if he matches the locker."
Robin checked his gauntlet again. "Dr. Brenner should be in Ward C, doing evening evaluations."
They retraced their steps to the main corridor, then followed signs toward the intensive treatment area. As they passed cells, Tony noticed inmates becoming increasingly agitated. Several pressed against their reinforced glass doors, eyes wide, mouths working in silent words or screams.
"They can sense you," Robin observed quietly.
"My demonic aura," Tony confirmed. "Those with mental illness or heightened sensitivity can often detect it. Usually makes them nervous."
"Nervous seems like an understatement," Robin replied as they passed a cell where the inmate was frantically scratching symbols into his own arms, eyes fixed on Tony.
A voice suddenly echoed from a cell ahead. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the Boy Wonder and... oh my, what's this? A new playmate with such delicious darkness."
The voice belonged to a pale man with green hair and a Glasgow smile that stretched unnaturally wide. The Joker, pressing his face against the glass, eyes glittering with malicious intelligence.
"Keep moving," Robin muttered, quickening his pace. "Don't engage him."
But Tony had stopped, curiosity getting the better of him. "So this is Gotham's famous clown. Not impressed."
The Joker's smile somehow widened further. "Ooh, tough guy! But I can see through you, devil boy. Yes, yes, I can see what crawls beneath your skin." He giggled, the sound setting Tony's teeth on edge. "The blood calls to blood, doesn't it? Your daddy would be so proud!"
Tony tensed, his hand instinctively moving toward his holster. Robin caught his arm.
"He's baiting you," the teen warned. "He does this. Finds weaknesses."
"Should listen to the birdie," Joker sing-songed. "I'm just making friendly conversation with a fellow monster! We're not so different, you and I. Just different flavors of chaos!"
"I'm nothing like you," Tony said coldly.
"Oh, hit a nerve! Delightful!" Joker pressed closer to the glass. "Run along now, devil boy. But remember, when the blood moon rises and the key turns, I'll be watching the show with popcorn!"
Robin dragged Tony away, surprisingly strong for his size. "He's insane. Ignore him."
"He knew about my father," Tony muttered. "And about the blood moon. The key turning. Same phrases Blood used."
"Joker has ways of knowing things he shouldn't," Robin replied, his voice grim. "He's more dangerous than you realize."
They continued down the corridor, but the encounter had left Tony unsettled. The Joker had seen through him instantly, recognized his demonic nature without hesitation. Few humans could do that, especially those without magical training.
Ward C loomed ahead, its reinforced doors marked with multiple warning signs. Robin accessed the security panel, and after a moment, the doors slid open silently.
Inside, the ward was eerily quiet. Unlike the rest of Arkham, this section was modern, almost sterile in its clinical design. Cells lined both sides of a central corridor, their occupants either sedated or restrained, judging by the lack of movement.
"Treatment rooms are at the far end," Robin whispered. "Dr. Brenner should be there."
They moved silently down the corridor. Tony's unease grew with each step. The demonic energy was stronger here, concentrated like a foul perfume. But there was something else too, something that made his gut twist with recognition.
"Robin," he whispered. "Something's very wrong. This isn't just cult activity. There's active demonic presence here."
Robin slowed, hand moving to his utility belt. "Can you pinpoint it?"
Before Tony could answer, a scream tore through the silence, coming from the treatment rooms ahead. Not a scream of fear, but of agony, primal and raw.
They broke into a run, stealth forgotten. The treatment area consisted of several rooms arranged around a central monitoring station. The scream had come from the furthest room, its door closed but vibrating with the force of what was happening inside.
Robin reached for the door, but Tony caught his wrist. "Wait. Let me go first."
"Why?"
"Because if what I think is happening is happening, you're not equipped to handle it."
Robin hesitated, then nodded, stepping aside.
Tony drew Ivory, keeping it low as he pushed the door open with his shoulder.
The scene inside made even his hardened stomach turn. A patient was strapped to an examination table, his body contorted in impossible angles. Standing over him was a man in a lab coat, his back to the door. But it wasn't the tortured patient that caught Tony's attention most. It was what hovered above them both: a shadowy mass of tentacles and eyes, partially materialized in this dimension.
"Feeding time's over, Doc," Tony announced, raising his gun.
The figure in the lab coat turned slowly. Dr. Brenner appeared normal at first glance: middle-aged, balding, unremarkable. But his eyes were solid black, and when he smiled, his teeth had been filed to points.
"Son of Sparda," Brenner said, his voice layered with inhuman undertones. "Our master said you might interfere."
"Yeah, I'm predictable that way," Tony replied. "Call off your pet parasite and step away from the patient."
Brenner's smile widened. "You're too late. The communion has already begun. This subject's mind has provided valuable insights into Gotham's power structures. The master will be pleased."
The shadowy entity above the patient pulsed, tentacles digging deeper into the man's skull. The patient convulsed, foam flecking his lips.
"Robin, get the patient," Tony ordered, not taking his eyes off Brenner. "I'll handle the good doctor and his little friend."
Robin moved with practiced efficiency, darting around the possessed doctor toward the patient. Brenner made no move to stop him, his attention fixed entirely on Tony.
"You don't recognize me, do you?" Brenner asked, head tilting at an unnatural angle. "We've met before. In another life. Before I found true purpose in the Church."
Tony studied the man, searching for any familiar features beneath the demonic corruption. Nothing registered.
"Sorry, Doc. All you cultists look alike to me."
Brenner laughed, the sound bubbling like liquid. "The arrogance of Sparda's bloodline. Your father was the same, before the master showed him his place."
Tony's finger tightened on the trigger. "You didn't know my father."
"I knew him better than you ever did, boy." Brenner's body began to twist, bones cracking as something inside pushed against human limitations. "I served alongside him in the master's court, before his betrayal."
The realization hit Tony like a physical blow. "You're not human. Never were."
"Very good," Brenner's face split in a grin that literally divided his features, revealing the true entity beneath. "I am Belasko, once lieutenant to the great Sparda himself. Now loyal servant to Lord Trigon."
The transformation accelerated, human flesh sloughing off to reveal a towering demon with leathery wings and a face dominated by mandibles where a mouth should be. The white lab coat stretched, then tore as the creature's true form emerged.
"Shit," Tony muttered, holstering Ivory and drawing Rebellion instead. This was no longer a stealth mission. "Robin, get the patient out! Now!"
Robin had already freed the man and was supporting his weight. "What about you?"
"I'll handle bug-face here. Go!"
Belasko clicked his mandibles. "The boy goes nowhere. None of you will leave this place alive. The master requires sacrifices to strengthen the key, and Sparda's son will be the crowning glory."
The demonic parasite detached from the patient, floating toward Robin with malevolent purpose. Tony acted without thinking, throwing himself between the entity and the retreating teen. Rebellion sliced through shadowy tentacles, causing the creature to recoil with a high-pitched wail.
"Get him to safety!" Tony shouted over his shoulder. "I'll meet you at the extraction point!"
Robin hesitated only briefly before nodding and dragging the semi-conscious patient from the room. Belasko moved to intercept, but Tony blocked his path, sword leveled at the demon's chest.
"Remember me now?" Tony taunted, circling to keep himself between the retreating Robin and the two demonic entities. "Tony Redgrave. Half-human son of the demon knight you claim to have served. Ring any bells?"
Belasko's mandibles clacked in what might have been laughter. "The name you hide behind means nothing. I know what flows in your veins, Dante."
The use of his true name sent a cold shock through Tony's spine. Few knew that name, the one his mother had given him before everything went to hell. He pushed the reaction down, focusing on the immediate threat.
"If you served my father, you know what this sword can do," Tony warned, Rebellion gleaming under the harsh lights. "Last chance to crawl back to whatever hole you emerged from."
"Your father's sword, yes," Belasko acknowledged, wings unfurling to their full span. "But wielded by a half-breed who denies his heritage. You are not Sparda, boy."
"Never claimed to be," Tony replied, dropping into a fighting stance. "I'm better."
He attacked first, Rebellion arcing toward Belasko's torso. The demon was faster than his bulky form suggested, sidestepping the blow and countering with a sweep of clawed hands. Tony ducked, feeling talons whistle past his ear.
The room was too small for proper combat, medical equipment crashing to the floor as they grappled. Tony managed a glancing blow across Belasko's wing, drawing ichor that hissed where it hit the floor. The demon retaliated with a blast of acidic venom from between its mandibles, forcing Tony to dive behind an overturned examination table.
"You fight well," Belasko clicked, stalking around the makeshift barrier. "But without embracing your true nature, you are merely prolonging the inevitable."
The parasite entity had recovered from Tony's earlier attack and now flanked him from the opposite side, cutting off his escape route. He was surrounded, and using Devil Trigger in such a confined space risked bringing the entire ward down around them.
"Prolonging the inevitable is one of my chief talents," Tony quipped, mind racing for a solution. "That and witty comebacks. I'm basically a Renaissance man."
Belasko lunged, wings propelling him across the room with startling speed. Tony rolled at the last second, Rebellion scoring another hit as the demon crashed into medical cabinets. Glass vials shattered, spilling chemicals that mixed with demonic ichor in a noxious cloud.
The parasite seized its opportunity, tentacles wrapping around Tony's sword arm with surprising strength. Cold numbness spread from the contact points as the creature attempted to infiltrate his nervous system.
"Bad idea," Tony grunted, allowing a fraction of his demonic power to surface. His arm glowed briefly red, and the parasite shrieked as its tentacles disintegrated on contact.
Belasko recovered from his collision with the cabinets, mandibles clicking in frustration. "The master was right. You are becoming a genuine nuisance."
"I aim to please," Tony replied, shaking off the last of the parasite's numbing effect. "Tell your master to go back to hell and stay there. This world's off-limits."
"You still don't understand," Belasko hissed. "The master is coming. The keys are turning. Blood calls to blood, and Sparda's debt will be paid in full."
The demon suddenly cocked its head, as if listening to some distant signal. Its posture shifted from aggression to something like resignation.
"Another time, son of Sparda," it said, wings folding tight against its body. "The communion is complete. My purpose here is fulfilled."
Before Tony could react, Belasko's body began to disintegrate, not like a demon banished back to hell, but like one voluntarily abandoning its physical form. The particles swirled into a miniature vortex, then vanished with a soft implosion of air. The parasite followed suit, dissipating into shadow that faded to nothing.
Tony was left alone in the devastated treatment room, alarms now blaring throughout the facility. Emergency containment protocols, most likely. He sheathed Rebellion and headed for the door, only to find it sealed by automated lockdown.
"Perfect," he muttered, assessing his options. The ventilation system offered a potential escape route, but time was short. Security would be converging on this location rapidly.
As he worked to remove the vent cover, Tony's mind raced with implications of what had just occurred. Belasko had recognized him, known his true name. More troublingly, the demon had served his father before Sparda's rebellion against demon-kind. And now served Trigon.
The pieces were forming a picture Tony didn't like. Cult activity increasing. Demonic breaches. Blood's cryptic warnings about keys turning. And everywhere, references to his father's past, a debt to be paid.
The ventilation cover came loose, and Tony pulled himself into the narrow duct. As he navigated the maze of metal passages, one thought dominated his consciousness...
What exactly had his father done in Trigon's service? And what price was now coming due?