SHADOWS OF CURSES: A DC FANFIC

The night was Gotham's usual blend of chaos and corruption. The city buzzed with crime, as if the very streets pulsed with the blood of its dark underworld. But tonight, there was an added tension, something even the most hardened criminals could feel—a shift in the city's balance.

Batman stood on the rooftop of a nearby building, watching the destruction that was once Mirk Ethan Anderson's apartment. He had been tracking the commotion ever since his sources in the GCPD had reported strange activity in the area. There was nothing ordinary about the damage, and the bodies of several Talons from the Court of Owls strewn around the scene were a clear indication that this was no run-of-the-mill altercation. Something, or someone, had cut through them, and Batman needed to know who.

His boots made no sound as he leapt from the rooftop, his black cape gliding through the air like the wings of a specter. He landed with a soft thud on the fire escape and descended with practiced ease, slipping into the shadows. Moving to the blown-out door, he took in the sight of the apartment—furniture shattered, walls scorched, and the unmistakable signs of a brutal battle.

Batman's keen detective senses went into overdrive. He scanned the scene, his mind processing every detail, every piece of evidence. The cuts on the bodies were clean—precise. Whatever had killed these men was fast, deadly, and not easily seen. Invisible slashes, perhaps? That wasn't something he encountered often. His brow furrowed beneath the cowl.

"Dark magic," he muttered to himself. The precise, nearly invisible cuts, the speed of the strikes—it wasn't anything he could explain with conventional means. But the mystic arts had their foothold in Gotham before, and Batman had dealt with practitioners of dark forces. Perhaps this man was wielding a kind of power that had remained hidden until now.

Moving deeper into the apartment, he found more signs of the battle. Shattered glass, bloodstains on the floor, and… a strange energy lingering in the air. He couldn't describe it in conventional terms, but there was a residual trace, something he could sense but not fully understand. His experience with magic led him to believe this was more than brute strength or technological enhancement—this felt like something darker.

The Talons, however, were a clue. Batman knelt beside one of the bodies, his hand brushing the owl insignia on the assassin's armor. The Court of Owls had been quiet for years, but now they were back, targeting someone in his city. Someone powerful enough to survive.

"Why would Cobblepot involve the Court?" Batman mused, rising to his feet. The Penguin was many things, but reckless wasn't one of them. Sending the Court after someone meant this individual was a threat, not just to Penguin's operations but perhaps to the entire city.

Batman's mind shifted gears. He needed to know who this person was—this Mirk Ethan Anderson. A quick data pull from his gauntlet revealed the basics: Anderson had arrived in Gotham not long ago. Before that, he had lived in Metropolis, a city now scarred by its battles with superhumans. The report listed no prior criminal record, nothing overtly suspicious. But there was one detail that stood out—the death of his sister, Lily, during the Doomsday incident.

Batman's jaw tightened as he read the account. Doomsday's attack had devastated countless families, and it seemed this Anderson had been among the many victims. No wonder he had fled Metropolis, seeking refuge in Gotham's dark alleys. But what had turned him into the force capable of slaughtering the Court of Owls' finest? What had pushed him into a battle with Oswald Cobblepot?

There was more to this, Batman knew. He stepped over the remains of the apartment, his detective instincts telling him that this fight was only the beginning. If Mirk had mastered this power, it meant he was only at the surface of what he could do. The Talons wouldn't be the last to challenge him. And if Cobblepot was involved, Gotham was in for a storm.

The sudden click of his earpiece brought Batman out of his thoughts.

"Alfred," he said.

"Sir, I've pulled more information on Mirk Ethan Anderson," Alfred's calm voice came through the line. "It appears he's recently come into some substantial… powers, for lack of a better word. My sources in Metropolis indicate something unusual may have happened to him after the battle between Superman and Doomsday. His sister's death seems to be a key catalyst."

Batman nodded to himself, staring out through the shattered window of Mirk's apartment. "It's more than that. He's using something akin to dark magic—abilities that shouldn't exist in this world without consequences. He's dangerous."

"Indeed, sir. Shall I prepare for his containment?"

"Not yet," Batman replied. "I want to know more about him. I don't think he's gone rogue… not yet. But if he's facing the Penguin, it won't be long before things escalate."

"Very well. Shall I continue monitoring Cobblepot's movements?"

"Yes. And keep an eye on Anderson. I'll need to deal with him soon enough."

Batman switched off the comms, his eyes scanning the horizon. He knew where Mirk had gone—Penguin's territory. Gotham's underworld was about to erupt into chaos, and Batman had to get ahead of it before more lives were lost.

For now, though, he was left with a mystery. Mirk Ethan Anderson, once a victim of Metropolis's chaos, had now become something more in Gotham. Batman would need to meet him, and soon.

The Bat turned toward the exit, disappearing into the night as swiftly as he had come, leaving behind nothing but the haunting remnants of a man whose journey had only just begun.

Mirk was moving quickly through the alleys of Gotham. His mind raced, calculating every step toward Penguin's stronghold. The fight in his apartment had shaken him, but it had also shown him the potential of his powers. Boogie Woogie had been the difference between life and death tonight, and now, he had more to test.

Cobblepot would pay for sending the Court. This was no longer just survival—this was war.