Godfather Owl: Guardian of Batman

Bruce sat by the shore, watching the waves roll in as he waited for Diana to wake.

The Sea Queen, bound tightly nearby, initially attempted to play the sympathy card, cooing sweet words in an attempt to charm Bruce into untying her.

She didn't even finish her first sentence before something struck her on the head, knocking her unconscious.

Kathoom was the culprit, perched smugly with one wing holding a miniature Mjolnir and the other a small ring. The owl had sized the hammer down to match his form and given the Sea Queen a decisive clonk.

"Why did you hit her?" Bruce asked, though his concern wasn't for the Sea Queen herself. He worried the blow might have inadvertently killed her again, unleashing another catastrophe on French soil.

"I was careful," Kathoom said dismissively, tucking the hammer and ring into his feathers before pulling out a glimmering golden trident.

It was none other than Poseidon's Trident, the weapon that had vanished during the battle.

"Can't examine this beauty with her yammering on," Kathoom said, shrinking the trident until it was his own size. He gripped it with his wing, giving it an experimental twirl.

"How do I look? Pretty commanding, right?"

Bruce raised a brow at the sight of an owl wielding a trident. "Sure. Commanding."

"You're so insincere!" Kathoom jabbed the trident playfully at Bruce's side. "Next time you undermine me, I'll poke out an eye."

"Go ahead," Bruce said flatly.

Some time later, Diana stirred and opened her eyes.

Her usual confidence had returned, though her bound hands seemed to sap more than just her strength. She was calmer, more subdued than before.

"Bruce," she said softly. "Would you untie me, please?"

Bruce had no objections. With a flick of his hand, the Secret Lasso loosened its grip and coiled back to his side. Diana stood and rubbed her wrists.

"This black lasso has a strange power," she remarked. "But if it can stop me from losing control like that, I actually feel... reassured."

The memories of her rampage returned. The thought of almost destroying an entire nation to kill the Sea Queen horrified her.

"I'll tie you up again if it happens," Bruce said, half-joking.

Diana considered it and nodded. "That's fine, but there might be situations where I need that state in battle. It's hard to tell when."

"Then we'll set a code word," Bruce suggested. "If you say it before transforming, I'll know not to intervene."

"That's a good idea," Diana agreed, smiling at Bruce's practicality.

Kathoom, perched nearby, couldn't help but gawk. A code word? Are these two seriously planning battles with a safe word?

Bruce nudged the unconscious Sea Queen with his foot. "What do we do with her?"

"We can't kill her, and we can't keep her," Bruce admitted, frustrated by the dilemma.

"Set her free," Kathoom offered. "Might earn us some karmic points."

Bruce ignored him.

Diana seemed equally conflicted. Something about the Sea Queen irked her deeply—not just the woman herself, but the thought of her lingering near Bruce.

"There's only one solution," Diana sighed. "We need to find Ares. He'll know what to do."

Bruce raised a brow at the casual mention of her old nemesis. Diana's experiences in Olympus seemed to have tempered her previous hatred for Ares. The once-unquestioning lens through which she viewed the gods had begun to crack.

---

At the gates of Morgan Manor, Ares—disguised as the aristocratic Sir Patrick Morgan—leaned heavily on his cane, his face twisting in irritation as Bruce and Diana approached.

"You again?" he grumbled. "Didn't I give you everything you needed the last time?"

"We have a new problem," Bruce replied breezily, stepping past Ares like an old acquaintance.

He made himself at home, strolling into the manor as though he owned it. "Two cups of tea, thanks," he called to the butler.

"That's enough!" Ares snapped, hobbling after them. "Ask what you came to ask and get out. Stop acting like we're friends!"

"Oh?" Bruce smirked, pulling Diana closer. "Are you trying to throw her out? Look at this face and say that again."

Ares froze. Diana's expression was unmistakably crafted for sympathy—her wide eyes brimming with mock innocence.

"You!" Ares glared, recognizing the shift in her demeanor. She no longer looked at him with unfiltered contempt, as she once had. If anything, she was starting to tolerate him.

What a shame, Ares thought. He much preferred it when she looked at him like garbage.

"Just ask your questions already," Ares grumbled, waving them forward.

"Gladly." Bruce snapped his fingers, and a distant roar echoed through the air. Moments later, the Batmobile descended from the sky, landing heavily in the manor's courtyard.

"You've been to see Hephaestus?" Ares asked, immediately recognizing the handiwork of the forge god.

"That's not the focus right now." Bruce circled to the Batmobile's trunk, opened it, and revealed the trussed-up Sea Queen inside.

She glared at him, still gagged and unable to shout for help.

"You work fast," Ares remarked dryly.

"I'll get straight to the point," Bruce said. "How do we send Descenders back to their original worlds?"

The idea of using Kathoom's dimensional abilities to personally escort each Descender home was unappealing—especially since the Sea Queen's world was in the dark multiverse, a place Bruce had no interest in visiting.

"That's all you want to know?" Ares asked, almost insulted. "The answer's painfully simple."

He explained, "You can't kill Descenders because you're not participants in this war. The conflict is fueled by the wishes of the nations involved. Unless you eliminate those nations entirely, you're just bystanders."

"So we're stuck," Diana muttered, panic creeping into her voice. "There's no way to stop this?"

"Did I say that?" Ares chuckled. "If you want to eliminate the Descenders, join the war yourselves."

"Doesn't Themyscira count as a nation?"

---

As they left Morgan Manor, Bruce's newly upgraded Batmobile soared through the sky, its sleek, futuristic frame cutting through the clouds.

Diana sat silently in the passenger seat, her brow furrowed with worry.

"I can't make a wish on behalf of myself," she said finally. "I need someone to represent Themyscira and make the wish for me. Then I'll fulfill it."

Bruce nodded, understanding the implication. The only person fit to represent Themyscira was her mother, Queen Hippolyta.

There was one other possibility: Diana herself, as Themyscira's princess and future queen.

But beyond that, no one else had the authority to act on behalf of the Amazons.

Still, a heavy sense of unease settled over her.

Diana was reluctant.

The idea of returning to Themyscira, tail between her legs, to explain the mess she had caused was mortifying. She had left home with such confidence, convinced that killing Ares would bring an end to war itself.

Now, not only had her mission failed, but her actions had dragged the world into even greater chaos.

And on top of that, asking the Amazons to join a war? It was unthinkable.

Her thoughts spiraled into despair until Bruce, who was driving the Batmobile, spoke up.

"There's no need to feel hopeless," he said, his tone steady and measured.

Diana looked at him, curious.

"You could appoint me as the official proxy of the Amazon Princess," Bruce continued. "I could represent Themyscira and make the wish on its behalf. That way, you won't need to involve your mother or anyone else."

"Proxy?" Diana shook her head. "Themyscira has no such position. It would make no sense to invent one now!"

Even if they were trying to exploit a loophole, it had to be justifiable.

"Then let's make it reasonable," Bruce said, removing his hands from the steering wheel. The Batmobile smoothly shifted into autopilot as he turned to face Diana.

"If a proxy doesn't make sense, how about this instead? I'll become the Prince of Themyscira."

"The... the Prince?" Diana's face turned scarlet. Her usually unshakable composure crumbled as she avoided Bruce's gaze.

"Think about it." Bruce pressed on, his voice calm, as if this were the most natural suggestion in the world.

"Themyscira serves as a bridge between humanity and the gods. That responsibility rests on your shoulders now, Diana."

"But if you were to share that responsibility with your husband, then he could logically represent Themyscira in this war."

He leaned closer, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. "It's perfectly logical. Perfectly reasonable."

"What do you think, Diana?"

Her mind raced, and for the first time in years, she was at a loss for words.

"I… I…" Diana stammered, nervously clutching the edge of her seat. "But where… where would I even find a husband?"

"That's the tricky part," Bruce said with an exaggerated sigh, his expression pained as though he was grappling with an impossible burden.

Finally, he straightened and spoke with solemn resolve.

"I'll do it. I'll sacrifice myself."

"What?" Diana blinked, utterly bewildered.

"I'll become your husband!" Bruce declared, his tone filled with a dramatic sense of duty.

"Absolutely not!" Diana shook her head fiercely. "Bruce, I've never thought of you in that way. Besides, you're too young to even get married—"

"Exactly!" Bruce interrupted, clapping her on the shoulder with a grin. "I'm too young to be married. So we'll just say I'm your fiancé."

"When this war is over, we'll call off the engagement, and it'll be like it never happened."

Diana was taken aback. His words were as unfeeling as they were logical. He was blatantly telling her, This is purely transactional. Don't take it seriously.

Yet somehow, Diana felt this arrangement was unfair—to him.

"This isn't right," she murmured, her voice laced with guilt. "You should be engaged to someone you truly love…"

Bruce's reply came swiftly, without hesitation.

"My love is for this world," he said simply. "And you, Diana, are a part of this world."

His words left her speechless.

"And you don't have to worry about my reputation," Bruce added, sensing her lingering doubts. "This engagement will only exist between us.

"Once it's over, neither of us will say a word about it.

"As long as I don't tell anyone…" He turned and pointed at Kathoom, who was perched nearby, nonchalantly munching on a piece of fruit.

"…and that nosy bird keeps his beak shut, no one will ever know!"

Bruce's reasoning left no room for argument, but Diana still hesitated.

Sensing her wavering resolve, Bruce leaned in for the final blow.

"Diana," he said gravely, "we can't waste any more time. The longer we wait, the more lives are lost."

"Think of the world. Think of peace. We have to end this war."

Those words broke through her resistance.

Diana took a deep breath, her eyes filled with guilt and determination. "Fine… but only because it's for the greater good."

"Bruce," she added softly, "I promise that as soon as this war ends, I'll annul the engagement. I won't let you suffer because of this."

"I'm not worried," Bruce said lightly, brushing off her concerns.

He wasn't interested in marriage—this was just a means to an end, a chance to truly fight alongside her as equals.

Kathoom's voice echoed in Bruce's mind.

"Well, well, Master Wayne. I must admit, I underestimated you."

"Diana's as dense as they come, but with a move like this, even she can't just friend-zone you."

Bruce ignored the comment.

This wasn't about romance, he told himself. His actions were entirely selfless, motivated only by the noble goal of world peace.

He reached out to Diana, his expression sincere. "Diana, give me your hand."

Confused, she extended her right hand.

"Not this one," Bruce said with a small smile. He gently took her left hand instead and produced a ring from Kathoom's feathers.

It was one of the two rings Hephaestus had forged from the leftover Uru alloy while reforging Mjolnir. Though its creation seemed purely incidental, Bruce couldn't help but wonder if the forge god had been planning for something like this.

He slid the ring onto Diana's left middle finger.

"There," he said, his tone calm and matter-of-fact. "With this ring, you can now access the power of Mjolnir."

Diana blinked, looking at the ring in surprise. "Is that why…"

"Of course," Bruce said, nodding. "You'll need every advantage we can get for what's to come."

Bruce stood tall, meeting Diana's gaze with unwavering resolve.

"Diana," he began, his voice steady and clear.

"I now make my wish. I wish to join this Descenders' war—to bring peace to this world and end this senseless chaos."

"I don't need the strength of others. All I ask is that you stand by my side, as my partner, to protect one another."

He extended his hand toward her.

"Can you grant me this wish?"

Diana stared into his eyes, seeing the determination that burned there. Slowly, she nodded.

"I can."

In that moment, a profound connection formed between them, a bond forged by fate itself.

They had become allies in the truest sense, tied together by purpose and destiny.

Bruce felt a new energy awaken within him. Diana's protective power flowed into his soul, granting him the ability to summon her ethereal likeness in battle.

He blinked, momentarily dazed. Did I just gain her as my guardian spirit?

The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning.

"If that's the case," Bruce mused to himself, "does that mean I can just leave this world now?"

---

T/N: Bruce is smoooth...

Ahem! Gather close, esteemed audience! Do you comprehend the privilege of basking in my radiance? Truly, you're witnessing history in the making—a performance unparalleled in the annals of Fontaine!

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Oh, but wait! You're probably wondering, "Furina, how can someone as magnificent as you need assistance?" To that, I say: why deny mortals the honor of contributing to such greatness? Supporting me is supporting art, and who doesn't want to say they were instrumental in a legend's rise?

Now, off you go. Make your offerings, and perhaps, perhaps, I'll acknowledge you in my next soliloquy!

— Furina ✨