Marvel: Starting with the Homelander Template

Catwoman was no fool.

Far from it—she was one of the most cunning thieves in the world.

Alex wasn't sure whether, in this timeline, she had already crossed paths with Batman, or if their infamous cat-and-bat game hadn't begun yet. But according to every story he'd ever known, she was a master thief who had slipped from the Dark Knight's grasp more than once.

There could be countless reasons for her escapes—luck, timing, or Batman's own hesitation—but one thing was certain: Catwoman herself was extraordinary.

And that same sharp mind was now sizing up her situation with frightening clarity.

She didn't know the full extent of Alex's powers, but she wasn't blind. When he had snatched her away and reappeared somewhere completely different in the blink of an eye, she immediately recognized super-speed when she saw it. A blur faster than any car.

And then there was the flying.

The man before her could fly.

Faced with such a being—a literal demon king by human standards—where could she possibly run?

"Boss, where are we going next?" Catwoman asked quickly, smoothing her tone into something light and almost playful. Her mind was racing, but outwardly she offered an eager smile, trying to gauge his temperament.

"Let's get something to eat first." Alex waved a hand casually, his voice even.

"Perfect timing! I'm starving too!" Catwoman's smile widened as she clapped her hands, slipping into her charming social persona like a second skin. "I know a place—very exclusive, very discreet, and definitely fitting for someone of your… stature, Boss. Shall we?"

"Lead the way," Alex replied indifferently.

Food wasn't the point. What mattered to him was the conversation that would follow—the information she might provide once her guard was down.

Catwoman led him through Gotham's streets until they arrived before an opulent hotel glowing with gold-tinged lights. It was the kind of place that whispered wealth in every marble column and crystal chandelier.

She really wasn't holding back.

Then again, it was understandable. The man beside her wore a watch that could buy an apartment in the city; to her, luxury was simply the appropriate setting.

Inside, they took a private booth and ordered with nonchalance. Soon, a quiet rhythm settled between them—the clink of cutlery, the faint hum of jazz music, the murmur of distant conversation.

Catwoman ate with surprising grace. Each motion was precise and elegant, the very picture of refinement. If Alex hadn't already known her reputation, he might have mistaken her for some upper-class socialite enjoying a late dinner rather than a notorious thief.

Then the TV behind the bar caught his ear.

> "At the crime scene, investigators recovered several 'Batarangs,' weapons used exclusively by Batman, making him the prime suspect in the recent homicides."

"Although police 推断—deduce—that there may have been another party present, Batman's 嫌疑—suspicion—cannot yet be ruled out."

"We urgently seek to determine whether Gotham's so-called vigilante is truly its guardian—or merely another executioner."

Alex's gaze lifted to the large screen. The footage displayed the very location where he'd swatted away Henry and his men like insects.

He blinked, momentarily taken aback.

He had simply cleaned up a few pests… and somehow Batman had taken the fall.

"Batman didn't kill those people!" Catwoman's voice rang with conviction before he could comment.

"You sound sure." Alex tilted his head, eyes narrowing in mild curiosity. "You know him?"

He wasn't mocking her—not quite—but his interest was genuine. In most versions of events, Catwoman and Batman shared… complicated chemistry.

"I don't know him," she said, spearing a small piece of steak, "but Batman's been operating in Gotham for over half a year. Not once has he killed anyone. Plenty of idiots try to copy him, though. This was just another sloppy imitation."

She dabbed delicately at her lips with a napkin, then added confidently, "And if he really had killed someone, do you think he'd leave his own weapon behind? Please. He's smarter than that."

Logically, her reasoning held up.

But Catwoman couldn't have known the truth—that Batman hadn't meant to leave his Batarang at all. He'd been wounded and forced to retreat before the police arrived. His calling card had been left behind by accident.

So, in a sense, Alex had just thrown Gotham's Dark Knight under the bus.

Not that he particularly cared.

Batman had survived far worse. Public opinion meant little to a man who routinely stared down gods and monsters. Gordon would smooth things over soon enough.

"You seem very… interested in Batman." Alex's lips curved in amusement, his eyes glinting with teasing warmth.

"Why would I care about that guy?" Catwoman scoffed, tossing her hair back with feigned disdain. "He's always swooping in to steal my spotlight!" Then her gaze sharpened with realization. "Wait—you're the one who seems curious about him."

Alex gave a soft chuckle. "He's probably the only mildly interesting person in this city."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Forget him. Let's change the subject."

And without warning, he reached out toward her.

Catwoman froze.

"Y-you… what are you doing?" she stammered, instinctively leaning away.

A faint thud sounded behind her—an invisible wall of force cutting off her retreat.

"I'm warning you! Don't try anything funny!" Her voice trembled despite her effort to sound defiant. "I agreed to be your assistant—what else do you want from me?"

For all her bravado, the fear in her eyes was unmistakable.

In front of someone this powerful, she wasn't a sleek predator anymore. She was a cornered kitten, trembling before a lion.

But Alex didn't hurt her.

He simply reached for the small pendant resting against her collarbone, lifting it lightly between his fingers.

"This?" he asked.

"You… wanted the necklace?" Catwoman exhaled in relief, forcing a shaky laugh. "God, you scared me! You could've just said so instead of acting like—like that!"

After what she'd witnessed from him earlier, she wasn't about to resist over a trinket.

"Tell me where it came from," Alex said, his tone even but his gaze sharp.

"It's just an accessory," she replied airily. "You can have it if you like."

His eyes hardened. "You seem to have forgotten your position, maid."

The single word cracked like thunder.

Catwoman's breath hitched, her pulse hammering as an invisible pressure settled over her shoulders. It wasn't physical, but it might as well have been; she could barely breathe.

"D-don't be so tense, Boss," she said quickly, forcing a wobbly smile. "I was only joking. Honestly, I don't really know what it is. I… found it in a museum."

Alex raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"'Found' it, huh?" he said dryly. "Right. Of course you did."

A thief finding something in a museum—now that was classic Catwoman.

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