Killing Batman: The Silver Mask Chapter 10.

Chapter 10: When the Shadows Stir.
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(The Narrows – St. Brigid’s Youth Center)

(One Week After the Falcone Hit)

Batman hasn't showed up yet.

Today's a saturday, my chosen day of rest. I don't scheme, fight or kill, no. On Saturday, I observe and survey.

The center runs like a machine.

Kids train in the basement. Padraig manages supply shipments through three cutout fronts.

Helena handles laundering through forged community grants- the people here have come to accept her. The new recruits call me "Mr. Byrne." They think this is a revolution.

They're right.

They just don't know what we're revolting against yet.

(3:27 PM – Encrypted Backroom, Behind the Altar)

Padraig drops a sealed dossier on the table.

"Intercepted at the docks. Courier was shot by someone else before we got there."

I flip it open.

Black parchment. Red wax. No seal.

Just a phrase scrawled in sharp, clean handwriting:

"Order must be restored before fire consumes the rest. Submit or vanish."

No name. No location.

But I recognize the style. The message. The arrogance.

The League of Shadows. The IRA had a run in with a few in the past. Cormac had warned me of their methods.

I close the file.

"They're late," I say.

(Elsewhere – Himalayan Monastery Ruins)

Talia al Ghul reads the same file. A stone-faced assassin stands at her side.

"You're sure it's him lady Talia?" the assassin asks.

She nods. "Roman Sionis' son. Circe Byrne's blood. IRA-trained. Smarter than the name suggests."

"Should we offer him an invitation?"

"No," she replies. "We offered him an ultimatum. Now we wait for his decision."

(Gotham – Gotham High Courtyard)

Barbara walks with Helena. They don't speak at first.

Barbara finally says, "He gave me a phone."

Helena doesn't look surprised.

"He trusts you," she says.

Barbara stops walking.

"No," she replies. "He expects me to join your little...band of revolutionalists."

Helena meets her eyes. "So? Are you going to stop him?"

Barbara's silence is the loudest part.

(That Night – Rooftop Overlooking the Iceberg Lounge)

I meet Helena under cover of darkness.

Below us, Penguin's men shuffle weapons crates under fake liquor shipments. They think I'm not watching. They're wrong.

Helena tosses a data drive at me.

"Everything they've got on GCPD payoffs. From Penguin's private server."

I catch it.

"You didn't have to go in there alone," I say.

"I didn't go in alone. I had a voice in my ear trying to tell me what to do, but I ignored it." she replies. "I just didn't need saving."

I like that about her.

She doesn't serve. She chooses.

(Back at the Youth Center – 1:42 AM)

When I get home, the door is unlocked.

Padraig never forgets the locks.

I enter slow.

Someone's waiting in the dark.

He steps forward. Tall. Armored. Masked. A member of the League. Voice like smoke through gravel.

"You're interfering with equilibrium."

I don't respond.

"You dismantled the Falcones. Disrupted the Arms Triad. You have no allegiance. No chain. No guiding principle."

Still, I say nothing.

"You think this is a crusade," he says, stepping closer. "It's a tantrum. One we will end."

I nod.

Then I shoot him through the kneecap.

He collapses without a sound.

I walk up. Kneel beside him.

"You people really should stop announcing yourselves."

Then I drive the knife through his neck.

Quick. Efficient.

I leave the body in the alley with a message carved into his vest: "Gotham doesn't belong to ghosts. It belongs to whoever has the will to keep it."

(The Batcave)

Bruce reads the League's distress signal, intercepted by the Batcomputer. He was very familiar with their communication systems.

Lucius: "The shadow couldn't have sent it. He was dead by then."

Bruce: "No. But someone sent it for him. Most likely 'him.'"

Lucius: "Do we warn the shadows?"

Bruce's jaw tightens.

"No. We wait until they go after him."

(Two Nights After the Warning)

They didn't send another message.

This time, they sent bodies.

(1:02 AM – St. Brigid’s Youth Center)

Three dead guards at the side entrance. Throats slit. No gunfire. No alarms.

They didn't come for intimidation.

They came for eradication.

I expected them.

Padraig is out. Helena's running decoys across the city. I'm alone. Just like I planned.

I don't arm the traps.

I want them to walk in thinking I'm vulnerable.

I want them to think they're winning.

(1:06 AM – Basement Level)

They enter as a unit. Four League operatives. Silent. Disciplined.

They find the main server room empty.

No alarms. No resistance.

One of them gestures to the others—clear.

The room locks behind them.

They don't panic. Professionals don't.

Until the lights shift red.

(1:07 AM – Upper Balcony)

I watch from above. Thermal vision on. Every movement mapped. Every breath marked.

I speak into the loudspeaker, voice distorted.

"You came to erase a name. But you walked into a mask."

One of them turns. Throws shurikens blindly upward.

Misses.

The lights go black.

(1:08 AM)

The first one goes down by garrote wire strung across the stairwell. He doesn't scream.

The second triggers a motion sensor trap rigged to flash-bang powder and ammonia gas. Blinded, he stumbles. I finish him with a blade to the spine.

The third puts up a fight. Strong, skilled, fast. He breaks my nose, nearly dislocates my shoulder.

But I'm better. And I don't fight fair.

I shatter his kneecap, disarm him, and use his own knife to slit his throat.

The last runs.

Smart.

I let him get as far as the exit.

Then I shoot him in the back of the head.

(1:19 AM)

Blood on the walls. One unconscious, barely alive. I bind him to the basement column.

Let him wake up.

Let him listen.

I press a recorder to his mouth.

"Repeat after me."

He stays silent.

I break three of his fingers.

He starts talking.

(Two Hours Later – Himalayan Outpost)

The message arrives.

Video feed.

The last remaining assassin bound, shaking, speaking through swollen lips:

"The Silver Mask is not to be touched. He is not to be pursued. The League was warned."

Then the camera turns. Just for a moment.

Ash's face partially visible.

Unmasked. Calm. Bloody.

"I'm not building an empire," He says. "I'm dismantling theirs."

The feed cuts.

"Bloody hell." Talia mutters, twirling a wine glass in hand. "Perhaps I should have led with an invitation."

(Gotham – Rooftop Overlooking Arkham Asylum)

Helena joins me.

She heard about the attack. Knows what happened. Doesn't ask for details.

"Is it done?" she asks.

"For now."

"Will they come again?"

"They always come again."

She leans against the ledge. "You don't sound worried."

"I'm not," I say. "They'll either join me… or bury their dead."

(Batcave)

Bruce doesn't speak for a long time, eyes on the frozen video feed.

Lucius finally breaks the silence.

"They underestimated him."

Bruce nods once.

"I won't make the same mistake."

Because now he knows...Acheron Byrne...is the Silver Mask.

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