SON OF BATMAN

Gotham stood on edge, caught between uncertainty and an eerie sense of calm.

The news of Batman's death had sent shockwaves through the city, and many had braced themselves for chaos to erupt. After all, with the Dark Knight gone, who would stand as the last line of defense against the city's worst?

The Gotham City Police Department worked tirelessly, throwing every resource they had into maintaining order. Every officer, regardless of rank or current status, was called in. Those off-duty returned to the force, those on leave cut their vacations short, and even desk-bound officers were sent into the streets.

Commissioner Gordon, a pillar of resolve amidst the storm, led them with a steadfast determination. It was a message to Gotham, both to its citizens and its criminals: The Batman may be gone but we are still here and more than capable of protecting our city.

For the first few nights, it seemed like the effort might have been for nothing. A handful of low-life criminals took advantage of the uncertainty, smashing windows, mugging unsuspecting pedestrians, and looting small businesses. But it was nothing the GCPD couldn't handle. Small fry at best.

What puzzled everyone, though, was the silence from Gotham's major players.

The big names, the masterminds, the crime lords, the lunatics who once dominated the city's underworld, stayed quiet. No grand plans, no audacious heists, no violent bids to seize control of the city. It was as though Gotham's villains had collectively gone into hiding.

Some speculated that they simply didn't believe it. After all, how many times had Batman faked his death or disappeared from the public eye, only to reemerge stronger than ever? Perhaps they thought this was another one of his elaborate deceptions. Others suggested they were lying in wait, watching the city's reaction, biding their time until the perfect opportunity arose.

Whatever the reason, Gotham's streets were quieter than they had any right to be.

The police, for all their efforts, found themselves patrolling an uneasy calm. But that calm came at a cost. Officers worked around the clock, their shifts stretching into exhaustion as they strove to fill the void left by Batman. The strain was evident in the haggard faces of the patrolmen, in the bags under Gordon's eyes, in the tense chatter that filled the precincts.

Yet, their mission extended beyond simply maintaining order.

The GCPD poured every ounce of effort into sending a clear and resounding message to Gotham's citizens: You are safe.

Even without the shadowy figure of the Batman watching over them, they wanted to prove that the city's protectors in blue were more than capable of standing guard. It wasn't just about filling a void; it was about restoring faith, easing fear, and showing Gotham that the police were strong enough to shoulder the weight of its protection.

And so, the city held its breath, waiting for the inevitable.

And so just like that, on edge, restless, and watching, Two weeks passed.

*********

The streets of Gotham buzzed with an energy that hadn't been felt in weeks. The hum of conversation mingled with the occasional honk of a car, though traffic was now being diverted to accommodate the crowds that swelled toward the City Hall.

A boy no older than seven dashed along the pavement, his small frame weaving through clusters of people as he turned back to his father, who lagged a few steps behind.

"Come on, Dad!" the boy called, his voice bright with excitement, though it cracked slightly from the effort of running. He clutched a small action figure tightly in his hand, a crude, mass-produced rendition of Batman, cape and all.

"We're gonna miss it! They're gonna start without us!"

The father, a stout man with a kind but tired face, adjusted the brim of his cap and jogged to catch up.

"Slow down, buddy," he said, a chuckle escaping him. "The monument's not going anywhere."

"But they're gonna uncover it soon!" the boy exclaimed, practically vibrating with anticipation. He didn't stop, his enthusiasm infectious as a few passersby smiled at his urgency.

Above them, a large screen affixed to the side of a building flashed a bold headline: LIVE: GOTHAM HONORS ITS DARK KNIGHT.

The words scrolled beneath the image of a podium set up outside City Hall, framed by a crowd that was still growing by the minute.

The unveiling had originally been planned as an indoor ceremony, an intimate affair for city officials and select guests within the ornate halls of City Hall. But Gotham had proven, once again, that the legend of the Batman was far bigger than any room could contain.

The sheer number of citizens who had turned up, families, loners, and even tourists, had forced a change of plans.

The streets around City Hall were cordoned off, a makeshift stage was now erected at its steps, and screens were stationed at key points around the city to broadcast the event live. Even with these adjustments, the area was packed shoulder to shoulder, and still, they came.

Banners hung from streetlights bearing the iconic bat symbol, their black-and-yellow design rippling in the wind. Vendors had set up stalls selling everything from commemorative pins to black balloons emblazoned with the bat insignia.

Despite the overcast sky, Gothamites braved the chill, many draped in black coats or scarves in an unspoken gesture of mourning and reverence.

The boy tugged on his father's hand as they reached the outer edges of the crowd.

"Do you think they'll talk about how he saved the city from Ra's al Ghul? Or the Joker? Or—or that time he stopped the Scarecrow?" His voice was rapid-fire, unable to hide his admiration.

His father smiled faintly, lifting him onto his shoulders to give him a better view. "Maybe all of that," he said, his own voice quieter, reflective. "But mostly, I think they'll talk about how much he meant to Gotham."

As the boy settled into place, his wide eyes scanned the stage, where city officials shuffled papers and adjusted microphones. A hum of anticipation coursed through the crowd, a palpable respect for the figure whose monument would soon stand as a reminder of his twenty years of sacrifice.