[R&R]: 1. Prologue - Gotham's Survivor

Synopsis: Nearly drowning and surviving, David Foster woke up in a world both familiar yet utterly unfamiliar. In this world, where forces of good and evil fight to prevail, his only reassurance lies in a power that promises great potential—but demands patience.

How is a Tinker to survive in the mayhem of this world?

A radiant dash of power in this rustic world of morals.

I have seen Batman.

It was the time of dusk when the sun had nearly set beyond the horizon. But to the city of Gotham, it might as well have been night.

Usually dark and cloudy, the moment the last rays of sunshine dimmed into mere points of light, a shroud of gloom covered the skies of the ever-depressed city. Lights were sparse in this town, and even during the day, it had an overcast or smoggy appearance. Perhaps that was why it had been hard to register when the gothic-themed superhero swooped down from above.

He had landed amid the trash littering the alley and the rain-soaked asphalt. His night-black cloak fluttered in the wind, he struck an awe-inspiring pose that had perhaps burned itself into my memory for the rest of eternity.

I had nearly forgotten about the ongoing robbery—entranced as I was—but Batman had been quick to sprint and tackle one criminal to the ground after another. He held no weapon, though the same couldn't be said about his enemies. Alas, their efforts were met with leather-clad fists of justice, and each punch sent them reeling back in pain and regret.

If you're wondering whether I had been on the receiving end of that brutal thrashing, let me assure you—I was not. Though I knew one of the assailants. His name was Jack.

Jack had been one of the first people I had spoken to since my unfortunate arrival in Gotham. Though, honestly, it had been mostly me ranting and complaining, and him listening. In the end, he had offered me half of his bread before he left.

Jack had been nice—nicer than most—and perhaps the only nice person I had met in this city. After Jack, every other guy had either been out for blood to sate his hunger or looking for easy money.

Since I had no money, I had been left alone.

Gotham was brutal.

I had realized that in the first few hours after running away from that boat, but it wasn't until the next nightfall that I had truly tasted its brutality. Yet, I was thankful for that. It had taught me a crucial lesson, after all—that of survival.

Anyway, not to derail from the story, Batman had come down upon the robbers like the hammer of God. Despite his apparent show of force and the way he left them beaten and battered, Batman had not maimed them or even seriously injured them. Their bruises looked bad—angry and swollen as they were—but they were just that, bruises. Perhaps the Caped Crusader too, was aware of their hidden plight.

These weren't criminals infesting this world like mites in wood; these were men, desperate and forced to seek their livelihood.

Desperation might have forced them to abandon their morals, but the true offenders would always remain those who had birthed this desperation in the first place. Yet, there was no forgiving men who had given in to their urges instead of living with dignity.

Or so I would say to myself.

Three weeks—that was all I had spent in this place, and already my convictions were teetering on the verge of collapse. The primal urge to seek violence and the dark whispers luring me toward the easy path sounded more tempting with each passing day. I too, wanted to give in, no matter how intimidating the Knight of Darkness might have appeared in his fearsome costume.

I hadn't.

I had managed to hold myself back, to resist. Despite the lack of proper sustenance, despite growing weaker with each passing moment, I had resisted the urge to follow the same path Jack had chosen.

Not because my convictions were firm as steel, nor because I was a man of heroic virtues. No. It was because whatever force of nature had left me in this world had not left me helpless.

Celestial Forge.

A power like no other. A radiant cosmos of colors, pulsating with familiar warmth and a reassuring hum. This was strength, true, but more importantly, it was potential. The potential to build myself to heights unknown to any mortal man, and perhaps even to the gods above.

Now, I knew DC. I knew the terrifying vastness of this eldritch universe. And I knew the beings that inhabited this reality. Even with Celestial Forge and the promise of its full potential at my fingertips, I was not arrogant enough to assume that I could one day lord over this world.

Thankfully, I held no such grand ambition, no desire to see myself at the apex of humanity—or the multiverse, or whatever. Just being able to guarantee my own safety was enough for me.

It was the only reason I hadn't hiked down the road and left this city behind. Because as depressing as Gotham was, it also held potential.

Once the Celestial Forge started rolling out abilities, I would need to acquire both materials and opportunities. And what better place to close deals beneath the table than this city? A city where no one would look twice if a gang's deposits vanished overnight.

Three weeks.

I had spent that time trying to keep myself alive. But when survival had become second nature, I had instead sought to thrive. Celestial Forge had been inactive for the moment, but it would awaken at some point.

And when it did, I wanted to be ready.

That night, Batman had left five men broken on the ground. These five men would go hungry to their cots, and these five men would seek violence first thing in the morning.

I had been offered a choice. A cruel, vicious choice.

To offer the last of my meal to the guy who had once shown benevolence toward me. Perhaps this act of kindness would forestall whatever path he would be forced to walk. Perhaps I would've saved a good man.

Instead, I had turned around and left.

I was a survivor.