THE DEATH KNELL-Chapter 50: SHADOWS,DEAL,AND UNSPOKEN CODE

Afu arrived promptly with dinner, maneuvering the dining cart through a hidden elevator that descended into the depths of the Batcave. With practiced precision, he laid out a full set of table linens, polished silverware, and neatly folded napkins, ensuring everything was in its proper place. Even here, in the dimly lit cavern beneath Gotham, elegance and order remained his top priorities.

The large table in the Batcave, typically reserved for Batwoman's operations, was currently littered with the remains of a previous meal—a half-eaten portion of cold rice that Slade Wilson had barely finished, and a strange, overly sweet soup Cindy had attempted to make. Only Slade and Cindy, both hardened enough to stomach nearly anything, had managed to consume a few bites. The other three had turned pale after just a single taste.

As Afu methodically cleared away the dishes, his sharp eyes caught an unusual mark on the tabletop—a yellowed stain surrounded by scattered ashes, with a faint trail leading to the floor. His expression darkened.

"Miss," he said smoothly, lifting an eyebrow as he glanced toward Batwoman, who remained focused on the glowing monitor in front of her. "If you plan to entertain Deathstroke in our humble Batcave, I would suggest investing in a set of ashtrays. Perhaps something in natural crystal? A refined touch for such a guest."

Batwoman didn't look up. She scrolled through lines of intelligence reports, her eyes narrowing as she focused on a name: Indian Mountain. The mention stirred something in her memory, but the historical records were frustratingly sparse—just a few vague lines, barely enough to be useful. That was troubling in itself. How had she overlooked this before?

She made a mental note to develop a new surveillance system, one discreet enough to go unnoticed by Gotham's growing homeless population. If someone was deliberately erasing records, she needed another way to gather information.

"No one makes friends with Deathstroke," she said at last, her voice flat. "I'm just doing business."

Afu, ever composed, tilted his head in acknowledgment. "Ah. Of course." He continued his work, swiftly clearing the debris before laying out a fresh tablecloth and arranging the next course.

"Still, if I may suggest," he added, "when negotiating with a mercenary of his caliber, a legal expert should be present. A contract, airtight and legally binding, is always advisable."

"Barry will be with me," Batwoman replied without missing a beat.

A sudden gust of wind signaled Barry's arrival at the table. In a blink, he was seated, napkin spread over his lap, utensils in hand, ready for the meal to be served.

"Uh, you do realize I'm a forensic scientist, right?" Barry said, puzzled. "That's... not exactly the same as a lawyer. I mean, sure, I know a lot about evidence and crime scenes, but contract law? Not my field."

Batwoman smirked, a rare flicker of amusement in her otherwise stoic demeanor. Barry was brilliant—one of the most gifted photophysicists and materials scientists she had ever met. But, like many geniuses, he had his blind spots when it came to practical matters.

"There's no need for a contract," she said. "Just show up in uniform."

Barry blinked, then broke into a grin. "Ohhh, I get it now." He chuckled. "You're even harder to read than Diana."

"I don't need to be readable," Batwoman said, finally turning her attention to the meal as Afu placed a plate of green fish salad before her. She picked up her fork, testing a bite.

Barry, eager to regain sensation in his taste buds after the disaster that was Cindy's soup, dug in immediately.

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"So," he said between bites, "where's your Aquaman? I mean, the Sea Queen."

Batwoman's expression didn't change. "Mad," she said simply. "She wanted to reshape the world under Atlantean rule. If she had her way, the entire surface world would be collateral damage."

Afu, standing nearby, observed her with quiet disapproval. Talking while chewing. Not something he had ever taught her.

Barry, however, was unfazed. He nodded thoughtfully. "I see what's happening here... IMHO, Batwoman, you're not the same person I used to know." He hesitated before adding, "I've seen what happens when the Amazons and Atlantis go to war. On the wrong timeline, it doesn't end well. For anyone."

The Batcave's dim lighting cast long shadows across the stone walls, adding weight to his words. Batwoman remained unmoved, her face unreadable.

"I anticipated that," she said. "Years ago, I considered Arthur a global threat. I had contingency plans."

Barry exhaled. "Yeah, that tracks. You were always prepared for the worst." He set down his fork, his voice growing more serious. "But Barbatos is different. He doesn't just want war—he wants to collapse everything. The dark multiverse, the entire balance between light and shadow. If he succeeds, we all lose."

The meal continued in silence for a moment. Barry wiped his mouth with a napkin, then leaned back. "You've mentioned this whole 'universal balance' theory before. I get it, in theory. But it's just that—a theory. We can't prove it."

Batwoman set down her fork. "We don't need proof to know that as long as Amazons and Atlanteans exist, the world is at risk. Maybe destruction isn't inevitable."

Barry leaned forward, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something far more intense. "That's exactly what Barbatos wants you to believe. No world is doomed unless we let it be. We can fight this. We have to."

Batwoman studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, with a slow nod, she pushed back from the table. "First, we meet with Deathstroke."

Barry frowned. "You sure that's the best idea?"

"I hate criminals like him," Batwoman admitted. "But the situation calls for it."

Barry sighed. "He's not a conventional criminal. He's done good. Maybe not enough to redeem himself, but still." He pushed his plate away. "You're strong, Batwoman. Stronger than you give yourself credit for. But we both have a code. We don't kill."

The words hung between them.

Barry barely had time to pick his teeth before a bolt of red lightning flashed across the cave, and in an instant, he was in his suit.

Batwoman exhaled, gathering her equipment, securing her utility belt, and adjusting the fit of her cowl.

Afu, ever composed, stepped forward. "Shall I pack the remainder of the meal for later, Miss?"

Batwoman smirked faintly. "No need. Finish it yourself."

Afu inclined his head, an elegant smile on his face. "As you wish." He watched as Batwoman and Barry disappeared into the shadows—just as he had countless times before.

And, as always, he would be waiting when she returned.