Tony crawled through Arkham's ventilation system, cursing under his breath as his leather coat caught on yet another bent metal edge. The asylum's ancient ductwork hadn't been designed for six-foot-tall men with broad shoulders and swords strapped to their backs.
"Should've taken the front door," he muttered, squeezing through a particularly tight junction. His earpiece crackled with static before Robin's voice came through.
"Redgrave, report status. Asylum security is mobilizing."
"Currently getting intimate with Arkham's dust collection," Tony replied, spotting a vent cover ahead that looked promising. "Making my way to the east wing. Where's our new friend?"
"Dr. Brenner escaped," Robin answered, frustration evident in his voice. "But we have another lead. Security footage shows Dr. Louise Brodeur accessing restricted patient files after hours. She's been working in the Criminal Psychology Department for three months."
Tony paused at the vent cover, peering through the slats to ensure the hallway beyond was clear. "Brenner wasn't working alone, then. Where can I find Brodeur?"
"Records room, east wing. Superboy is tracking her heat signature."
With a powerful kick, Tony dislodged the vent cover and dropped into an empty corridor, landing in a crouch. The facility's alarm systems were still blaring, red emergency lights casting everything in a bloody glow.
"Subtle," he murmured, drawing Ivory and keeping it low as he oriented himself. A sign on the wall indicated the records room was three corridors away.
Arkham during lockdown was even more unsettling than usual. Inmates screamed and pounded on reinforced doors as Tony passed, many calling out to him by names that weren't his own. Some begged for release, others threatened violence, but a disturbing number whispered phrases like "the blood key" and "master's return" as he moved past their cells.
He rounded a corner and nearly collided with an orderly pushing a medication cart. The man froze, eyes widening at the sight of Tony's drawn gun.
"You're not supposed to be here," the orderly stammered, raising trembling hands.
Tony assessed him quickly. Human, terrified, no demonic influence detectable. "Take five, buddy," he suggested, gesturing with Ivory toward a supply closet. "You didn't see me."
The orderly nodded frantically, abandoning his cart and ducking into the closet without argument. Tony continued, picking up his pace as the evacuation announcements began echoing through the hallways.
"All staff proceed to designated safety zones. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill."
The records room door was ajar when Tony reached it, light spilling into the darkened hallway. He slowed, listening. Inside, he could hear frantic movement, papers shuffling, drawers opening and closing.
"Robin," he whispered into his comms. "I'm at the records room. Sounds like someone's destroying evidence."
"Brodeur," Robin confirmed. "We're two minutes out. Wait for backup."
Tony stared at the ceiling for a beat, asking whatever deity might be listening for patience. "Yeah, that's not happening."
Ignoring Robin's protest in his ear, he pushed the door open with his foot, Ivory raised and ready.
Dr. Louise Brodeur stood at a filing cabinet, feeding documents into a small portable shredder. She was a severe-looking woman in her fifties, gray hair pulled into a tight bun, wire-rimmed glasses perched on a sharp nose. At Tony's entrance, she spun around, hand moving toward her lab coat pocket.
"I wouldn't," Tony warned, aiming directly at her chest. "Unless that's a particularly exciting pen you're reaching for."
Brodeur froze, her expression hardening. "You're interfering with matters beyond your understanding."
"Honey, that's basically my job description." Tony stepped further into the room, kicking the door closed behind him. "So, feeding patients to demonic parasites. Not covered by the Hippocratic Oath, last I checked."
A flicker of surprise crossed her face before she could mask it. "You saw."
"Front row seats to your boss's little communion. Gotta say, his bedside manner could use work."
Brodeur's posture changed subtly, her initial fear giving way to something colder, more calculated. "Brenner was sloppy. Impatient. The Great Lord demands precision in his service."
"The Great Lord," Tony repeated, lip curling. "Fancy name for an interdimensional parasite."
Her eyes flashed with genuine anger. "Blasphemer! Lord Trigon will cleanse this diseased world. The unworthy will be consumed, the worthy transformed."
"Yeah, yeah, heard the sales pitch before." Tony gestured with his gun toward a chair. "Have a seat. We're going to have a little chat about your church activities."
Brodeur remained standing, chin lifted defiantly. "I have nothing to say to Sparda's abomination."
This caught Tony by surprise. "You recognize me?"
"The white hair. The demonic aura. The arrogance." Her mouth twisted in disgust. "When Belasko described you, I had my doubts. The mighty Sparda's son, skulking around Gotham like common vermin. Pathetic."
Tony holstered his gun, his smile turning dangerous. "Insulting a guy's dad. Not the best strategy when that guy can rip your arms off."
"You won't harm me," Brodeur said with disturbing confidence. "Your father's weakness flows in your veins. Compassion for humans. It's why he failed, in the end."
Tony moved with supernatural speed, crossing the room in a blur and lifting Brodeur by her throat before she could react. Her feet dangled inches above the floor as he pinned her against the filing cabinet.
"Let's get something straight," he said, voice deadly quiet. "I'm not my father. His choices were his own. Mine tend to depend on how cooperative people are when I ask questions."
Fear finally showed in her eyes as she clawed ineffectively at his grip. Tony loosened his hold just enough to allow her to breathe.
"Now," he continued conversationally, "let's talk about what you and Dr. Bug-face were doing to Arkham patients. And don't spare the details. I'm genuinely curious about the whole 'communion' thing."
"I... can't," she gasped, genuine terror replacing defiance. "He would know. He sees through our eyes, hears through our ears."
"Trigon?" Tony pressed. "Or Blood?"
"Both. All. The network spans dimensions." Brodeur's eyes darted frantically around the room, as if searching for invisible watchers. "The keys are nearly aligned. The blood price must be paid."
Tony set her down but kept her cornered. "What keys? What blood price?"
Before she could answer, the door burst open. Robin entered first, followed closely by Superboy and Impulse.
"You couldn't wait two minutes?" Robin said, exasperation clear in his voice.
"She was destroying evidence," Tony defended himself, not taking his eyes off Brodeur. "Besides, we're having a fascinating theological discussion, aren't we, Doc?"
Brodeur's demeanor changed instantly with the arrival of the young heroes. She straightened her lab coat, composure returning as she adjusted her glasses.
"Thank goodness you're here," she said to Robin, voice trembling with manufactured fear. "This man attacked me. I was working late, cataloging patient files, when the alarms went off. I was trying to secure sensitive documents when he burst in, threatening me."
Tony rolled his eyes. "Seriously? That's the play?"
Robin looked between them, skepticism clear even behind his mask. "Dr. Brodeur, we have security footage of you accessing restricted files and communicating with Dr. Brenner, who we've confirmed is connected to the Church of Blood cult."
Brodeur's mask of innocence cracked. Her eyes narrowed, darting toward the door as if calculating escape routes.
"Don't try it," Superboy warned, stepping to block the exit. "We know what you've been doing to patients."
"The communion is sacred," Brodeur hissed, her pleasant demeanor evaporating completely. "The information gathered will pave the way for our Lord's arrival. You cannot stop what has been set in motion."
Tony leaned against the filing cabinet, arms crossed. "See, now we're getting somewhere. Tell us about these communions. What information were you collecting?"
Impulse zipped around the room, gathering the shredded documents. "Lots of files on Gotham's elite here. Mayor's psychological profile, evaluations of police captains, even stuff on Bruce Wayne."
"Power structures," Tony realized. "You're mapping Gotham's influence networks. Planning who to target when your boss makes his move."
"The worthy will serve," Brodeur confirmed, a fanatic's light entering her eyes. "The unworthy will nourish our Lord's ascension."
Robin stepped forward, his expression grim. "Where is Blood now? What's the next target?"
Brodeur smiled, showing too many teeth. "Everywhere. Nowhere. The Church has eyes in every corner of Gotham. The subway was merely the beginning. The cathedral will be consecrated next."
"Which cathedral?" Robin demanded.
Instead of answering, Brodeur began to laugh, a high, unsettling sound that echoed in the small room. "You think this is about buildings? About physical structures? Foolish children. The cathedrals are within. The worthy vessels who will channel His glory."
Tony moved closer, his patience wearing thin. "Cut the cryptic crap, Doc. What's Blood planning?"
Brodeur's laughter stopped abruptly. She fixed Tony with a stare of pure hatred. "Your father stole what belonged to our Lord. The debt must be paid. In blood. In fire. In the flesh of his spawn."
Before anyone could react, she bit down hard on something hidden in her mouth. A cracking sound was followed by foam bubbling between her lips.
"Poison capsule!" Robin shouted, lunging forward.
But it wasn't poison, or at least not just poison. As Brodeur convulsed, her skin began to stretch and tear, revealing something else beneath. Her eyes bulged, then split into four glowing orbs. Her mouth widened impossibly, jaw dislocating to accommodate rows of needle-like teeth.
"Holy crap!" Impulse yelped, backing away at super speed.
"Partial transformation," Tony explained grimly, drawing Rebellion. "Blood must have given her a taste of demon essence. Just enough to trigger this when threatened."
The thing that had been Dr. Brodeur lunged at Robin, clawed hands slashing where his throat had been a moment before. The boy wonder backflipped away, throwing a batarang that embedded itself in the creature's shoulder.
Superboy charged, grabbing its arms from behind. The transformed doctor howled, strength enhanced enough to break his hold and throw him across the room. Impulse created a whirlwind around it, but the creature simply roared, the force of its breath dispersing the speedster's cyclone.
"Get clear!" Tony shouted, giving the young heroes just enough time to back off before he engaged.
Rebellion sang through the air, meeting claws with a shower of sparks. The creature was fast but uncoordinated, its transformation incomplete and unstable. Black ichor oozed from wounds that refused to close, suggesting the demonic essence was already breaking down within a host never meant to fully contain it.
"You can't stop us," Brodeur's voice emerged from the twisted mouth, layered with inhuman undertones. "The keys are turning. The Red Cathedral rises. His coming is at hand!"
"Yeah, I'm getting really tired of this song," Tony replied, parrying another slash of claws and countering with a thrust that pierced the creature's abdomen.
It shrieked, black fluid pouring from the wound. Tony jumped back as the substance began to smoke where it hit the floor, eating through tile like acid.
"Corruption's rejecting the host," he called to the others. "She's breaking down!"
Brodeur's partially transformed body began to distort further, flesh bubbling and splitting as the demonic essence fought the poison she'd ingested. The combination created a volatile reaction that was consuming her from within.
"She's going to detonate," Tony realized, recognizing the pattern from previous encounters with unstable demonic hosts. "Everyone out! Now!"
Robin didn't argue, herding Impulse and Superboy toward the door. Tony followed last, slamming the door shut behind them just as a wet, splattering explosion shook the entire corridor. Black ichor seeped under the door, smoking where it touched the floor.
"That was..." Impulse trailed off, for once seemingly lost for words.
"Demon possession 101," Tony supplied, wiping ichor from Rebellion before sheathing it. "When the host rejects the essence, things get messy. Or when the essence rejects the host, in this case."
Robin studied the black fluid with scientific detachment. "She mentioned a Red Cathedral. And keys turning. The same phrases Blood used in the tunnels."
Tony nodded, his expression darkening. "And the same phrases that lieutenant used in Arkham. They're all working from the same script."
"But what does it mean?" Superboy asked, keeping his distance from the spreading ichor.
"It means," Tony replied grimly, "that whatever they're planning is bigger than we thought. Blood, Brenner, Brodeur, they're just pieces on the board. The real game is just beginning."
An explosion rocked the building, followed by the sprinkler system activating. Water rained down, mixing with the demonic ichor to create a toxic fog that filled the corridor.
"Time to go," Tony decided, heading toward the nearest exit. "Unless you kids want to explain to Arkham security why there's a doctor-shaped stain in the records room."
They made their way through the chaos of the evacuating asylum, using the emergency to slip past security unnoticed. Outside, rain continued to pour, washing away the last traces of demonic corruption from their clothes and weapons.
Robin activated his communicator. "Batman, mission compromised. Targets Brenner and Brodeur are down. We have new intelligence about the Church of Blood's plans."
Tony half-listened to the conversation, his mind racing to connect the pieces. The Red Cathedral. Keys turning. Blood debt. His father's name, invoked by every cultist they encountered.
Whatever Trigon was planning, it was personal. And if Tony's suspicions were correct, the demon lord wouldn't stop until every last descendant of Sparda was destroyed, along with the world his father had sacrificed so much to protect.
"Redgrave," Robin's voice broke through his thoughts. "Batman wants us back at the cave. All of us."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "The Batcave? Really? Do I need a secret handshake or something? OOOOOo do I get spandex?"
"He says it's time you told us everything you know about Trigon," Robin continued, ignoring the quip. "And about your father's connection to him."
Of course, his immediate internal reaction was telling em' to eat shit. But Tony sighed, rain plastering his white hair to his forehead. Some secrets weren't his to share, but some were. Some truths were too dangerous. However, with Brodeur's warnings fresh in his mind and the taste of demonic energy still thick in the air, he was beginning to realize that privacy might be a luxury none of them could afford anymore.
I mean...he could say no, and they could do nothing about it. Or....
"Fine," he conceded. "But I'm driving myself. A man has his dignity."
IF they made getting the job done easier, so be it.
As they parted ways, Tony couldn't shake the feeling that events were accelerating beyond anyone's control. The keys were turning, whatever that meant, and somewhere in Gotham, a Red Cathedral was rising.
The real question was whether they could stop it before Trigon made his move, or if they were already too late.