They won. They didn't win as hard as they could have, but when you're a mortal soul against one that claims to be God, not losing was impressive on its own.
As expected, however, Being X didn't accept his loss graciously. "One of the more amusing inaccuracies in the mortal interpretation of My Word was that of Hell, eternal suffering outside of My Sight." He had said, "It is not of my design. But… that doesn't mean such a place does not exist. Go, and trouble me no more."
So now they were here, tied to a metal cross in a firey pit, continually burning from both the air and the red hot steel they were strapped to. They had begged for mercy rather quickly, with not a single taunt from that damnable God.
They were alone.
But they had always prided themselves on their ability to adapt, and as it turns out, firey torment was no different. They didn't know how long it took them to beg, how long they tried, or how long it took for them to gain some level of lucidity despite the pain, but after those timeless torments, they gained enough presence of mind to attempt to use magic.
When they were a soldier, the combat analgesic formula was always easy to have on hand to allow for fighting on after injuries. They preferred to use it before getting injured, as it gave them an edge that they desperately needed to live long enough to no longer need the edge, and by then it had become a habit, an ingrained mental button press they hit every time they were about to fight.
The button was there, but to extend the metaphor, it didn't do anything. The underlying electronics that was the computation orb was missing. The metaphorical case was empty.
It took an unknown amount of time to figure out how to replicate the effect. The underlying mathematics was not taught to the soldiery, and while they had picked up enough at Elenium Labs to understand how the program translated mana into activity… understanding the combat analgesic would require medical knowledge they just didn't have.
The key was obvious, in hindsight. They didn't have a body of flesh and blood, but of a more mutable substance that was just close enough to ensure suffering without their nerves dying from the trauma.
"I, who was condemned for crimes that brought me both pain and fame, have served my times and will be reborn in flame!"
While they weren't… quite sure why they felt the need to invoke magic with a rhyming couplet, of all things, it worked. The substance of their body reformed into an angelic form with upside-down wings of flame, and the fires of the flaming pit bothered them no more. The familiar rush of the combat analgesic came with it, but after trying and failing to burst out of their confinement, the rush faded, although the acquired flame immunity remained. Well, with a clear head, fixing this issue is simplicity itself.
"My will shall never fade, my wings shall be my blade!"
Mage blades erupted on their wings of fire, severing the chains that bound them to the cross with ease. They looked at their wings curiously, marveling at the dozens of cutting spells now at their command. After a quick glance around the blasted hellscape, they walked towards a random stone and cut away the front, leaving a glossy obsidian surface. Not good enough…
"It is my wish to see this clearer, shape this stone into a mirror!"
Their body was a silvery tone, tarnished with red rust that resembled dried-over blood. They were naked but totally sexless. Their face was blank, and they were bald.
…They didn't know what they expected. They did, after a moment of wracking their brain, recall a few specific details of their previous bodies, even generalities, but for some reason, had difficulty putting it all together into a coherent image. Maybe if they wrote it down…
Well, there wasn't much point to it unless they could decide which body they wanted to use, and there were upsides and downsides to each one. They'll need to think about it.
With an exertion of will and a flap of their wings of fire, they started to fly in a random direction. Luckily, the fact that their wings were upside down didn't seem to inhibit their mobility.
Now, besides finding out if they were completely alone here, was there something to do?
-----------------------
They never did get to find out if the hellscape they were trapped in had any other denizens.
At first, they assumed the force that gripped then was Being X again, insenced at their escape for their assigned torture. But it was not the same. Weaker, and without that burning anger they would expect, instead replaced with… a pleading feeling? Yes, it kind of felt like someone begging them for assistance, or mercy.
While they weren't entirely sure they had the strength to resist the pull, it wasn't like they had anything else to do, so they relaxed and allowed the force to take them away from the blasted wasteland they were stuck in.
At first, there was a feeling of eating something, which after so long, despite not possessing any form of mouth, was pure bliss. But then they realized that they were confined again in some kind of warm liquid, shrouded in darkness.
The next ten minutes was something they would never want to do again.
"She is here!" Shouted the doctor, who was dressed in a black robe for some damned reason. "The Forsaken One, the Enemy of God, Lilith!" He spoke English, in an American accent. Well, one of them. He lifted their newborn body up, and their vision sharpened, allowing them to see clearly.
More men and women in black robes bowed before their… they looked down. They bowed before her raised body.
So her new life is being raised by a cult as their dark messiah… lovely.
-----------------------
Lilith's life wasn't quite as she expected it would be from her first impressions.
Despite cults generally being both crazy and incompetent, this one, known as the Society of the Bat, knew what they were doing when it came to dark, blasphemous rituals.
Her birth, for example, was the result of three rituals. First, one to create life from the blood of a being and a willing host, which is just a way to make a baby from a mother and something that isn't sperm. They used material from a local… demon? Monster? They are unclear as to the nature of 'The Bat Man', whose blood they used, but whatever he was, he was her father this time around.
The second ritual empowered the fetus, using living sacrifices to empower the soul of the unborn child, granting them magical power and, as a side effect, accelerating the pregnancy.
The third and final ritual was how she got here: by sacrificing the soul of a magically powerful fetus, they permanently bound a devil to the body, turning them into a hanyou. That soul was the thing she had inadvertently consumed on entry. This induced labor, as a side effect.
The only mistake they made was in their attempt to bind a specific devil to the body, that of the biblical Lilith. Instead, they got her. So they knew that she was no baby, even as she had no alternative but to drink from her mother's breast, but assumed that she was thousands of years out of date, which meant that they expected to be able to control her ability to gain information about the world around her.
They were wrong. Their control over the flow of information was sloppy, and she was able to gain quite a bit as her body matured rapidly. For one, the city they were in was known as 'Gotham', one of the no doubt hundreds of large American cities she's never heard of, and it was just past the turn of the millennium, a modern time period! It was exciting.
Supposedly, her role was to destroy their enemies, those who oppose the 'Spirit of Gotham's chosen champion, The Bat Man'. She supposed he was some sort of magician who made a pact with the city, or perhaps some kind of bat demon that claimed the city as their territory? She wasn't quite clear on the geopolitics, her cult didn't tend to speak plainly.
As it turned out, The Bat Man did not appreciate their initiative.
About six months into her new life, a man dressed as a comic book superhero, one of the edgy ones, like Owlman, burst into the cult's compound and started beating up all of the cultists with his bare hands and a few ninja tools.
Ah, it wasn't "The Bat Man", but 'The Batman'. Unfortunately for the cultists, their prowess at rituals aside, they didn't have much in the way of combat magic. Correcting that deficiency was the whole point of creating the servant hanyou, after all.
What did she do? Clearly, her directives to 'defend her masters' and defeat the 'enemies of the Batman' were in conflict, so instead she used what little magic she could manage to sneakily fly out the way the Batman came in, hoping that she could find… there!
Promisingly, the Batman had a very expensive looking armored vehicle waiting outside, just waiting for a little stowaway. It was even unlocked! While she was a lot larger than a six month old had any right being, she was still able to squeeze into a space behind the passenger seat, which was cramped but surprisingly comfortable; he kept a trauma blanket here.
It took somewhat longer than she thought it would take for the Batman to return to his vehicle. He seemed frustrated, given how he immediately slammed his fist on something and let out some choice expletives. He started the car, and apparently made a call, because he started talking to someone, despite the passenger seat still being empty. "Alfred, " He said, his voice colored by an affected growl that he didn't use when swearing. Given how soft his voice sounded even while swearing, she understood why he'd do that; she did the same thing in the Imperial military. "The cult's dealt with, the GCPD have arrived. But I ran out of time before I could find that little girl they were keeping." What?
"A little girl, sir?" this 'Alfred' was a distinguished British gentleman, on the older side, from the voice. "I thought the reports were of a soul-eating demon." Were they talking about her?
"Yeah, I thought so too." Batman replied, "I'm not going to let them judge and extrajudicially execute anyone, even if they are criminals." Ah. Yes, they were talking about her. "But this 'Lilith' had a room, and it looked like it was a nursery that had a child's bed added recently enough that they haven't removed the crib yet. Can't be sure of the time frame without going through their computers, which I'll do at the cave, but that's nowhere near young enough to survive on the streets of Gotham, their delusions about her being a soul-eating demon notwithstanding."
Well, that was good enough for her. She knocked on the passenger seat. After a moment, she tried again. After another moment, she changed tactics. "In a prison of my own design, I order this latch offline." It was a bit weak of a rhyme, and whispering it weakened the spell further, but it worked. The passenger seat's seal broke, and Tanya's slight weight pushed it further. She quickly faked being asleep, cuddling deeper into the trauma blanket.
"-if we don't find her, " Batman was saying, before startling at her appearance. They were driving through a tunnel of some kind. "...nevermind."
"Sir?" Alfred asked.
"Prepare a room for a… three year old girl." Batman said, Yes! "She stowed away."
"Of course, Master Bruce." Alfred said. Jackpot!
Still, it would be best if she was actually asleep, so she murmured as quietly as possible: "When in need of rest, a quick nap is best." Now, she's never done this and that was one sloppy rhyme, so how-
Darkness.
-----------------------
When she woke up, she was on a luxurious mattress, much larger than needed, with bars on them. They weren't quite 'this is a crib' height, but they were a little taller than the ones on her child-sized bed at the compound.
Now, the morning checklist: Did she cause magical mayhem in her sleep again? Looking around… no. No burn marks, mysterious cuts, everything seems to be in a place where it could plausibly be placed… excellent. On the more mundane side, did her diaper leak? No, but she was wearing a different brand.
Next, she checked the sleeves of her nightdress. Hmm…, it looks the same. No growth spurt. She smelled her breath. Still smelled a little like the trenches, but not any more than usual. She checked her fingernails and toenails. Still human standard, except for the obsidian-black coloration. She ran her tongue carefully over her teeth… Same number of molars, good.
She went into the bathroom, stripping to check her skin over for any suspicious textures. Then, she realized this room had a full-length mirror. The cult was superstitious about mirrors for some reason, they were forbidden within the compound. Given their actual magical knowledge, there might have been a good reason behind this habit, but this was the first time she had been able to see her new face.
It looked… pretty much the same as it did in her second life. Her whole body did, really, although she had to compare herself at three years instead of six months, naturally. Fluffy hair, pale skin… not quite the same shade though, it had a bit of a gray tinge to it. The only real difference she could notice beyond that was also coloration: she had black hair, and her eyes were not quite the same shade of blue, instead a darker shade. Right, back to checking for mutations.
Argh, her thigh had a metallic patch. "A Devil I may be, but a human is what they'll see." She intoned, forcing her magic to fix the mutation. Her magic rebelled at the act, the sensation very much like someone slipping a picture of a disease-ridden abscess in between the pages of a pornagraphic doujinshi. It was the only time she had thrown the first punch at someone in her first life. It was sickening, and caused Tanya to vomit bile into the toilet, but it was a necessary step. She patted her thigh, finding only pale skin. Good.
"Are you alright, Miss Lilith?" Asked a concerned-sounding British voice.
She yelped in shock, leaping backwards into the bathtub and crouching behind the cover. Her hand flexed in the proper posture to fight with a mage-blade as she readied her legs to leap out from behind- wait.
The man in front of her, definitely the 'Alfred' that Batman had spoken with, was clearly some kind of butler. She estimated his age as somewhere in his fifties, and he looked genuinely concerned, although he kept his distance, staying within one step of the door. "...I'm fine now." She said, dismissing further inquiry while also acknowledging what he had just witnessed.
"Hm. if you say so." He said, skeptical but willing to let the matter slide for now. "I suppose now would be a good time for a bath, then?"
"...Yes." She said, turning to the faux crystal knob that, from appearances, controlled all facets of the bathtub.
"Wait, let me-" Alfred said before she guessed at the function and turned on the water. Steaming water immediately gushed out, splashing her with water that was likely not hot enough to cause any actual damage. She didn't even flinch. It was nothing compared to hellfire.
"...is this knob actually made of diamond?" She asked incredulously. This was definitely not plastic.
"Yes, actually." Alfred said, "It's a bit gaudy, but it was installed before my time." He looked at her a bit strangely. "The water isn't too hot for you?"
"It's nice." She said truthfully. Even when fully human, she always had a bit of a masochistic streak when it came to hot baths. They liked hanging out with the old men at the bathhouse, and they always had good stories for those who were willing to listen respectfully. Still, Alfred had removed his suit jacket and was rolling up his sleeves, and she was still a small child for now, so she just sat down and let him spare her the trouble of dealing with the full-sized bar of soap with her tiny hands. He poured some liquid soap into the front of the tub, causing an avalanche of soap bubbles to emerge as the tub filled.
Right around when the tub finished filling, Alfred decided to chat. "I must say, you're remarkably well-spoken for your age."
"Technically, I'm six months old." She replied, molding the mountains of bubbles idly as she waited. "Can't be a hell-spawned assassin if you take over a decade to become useful." Honesty was a risk, but what was he going to do? Kill her? Laughable.
"Oh dear." Alfred said as he started to scrub. "There will be none of that in this household. I can assure you that much."
"Fantastic!" She said sincerely. "I've had enough killing for at least three lifetimes."
"I know the feeling." He said solemnly. Somehow, she believed him. He had a melancholy air to him that she knew very well. "How did it happen? Master Bruce will want to know, for his records."
"It wasn't here, it was during a war." She clarified, "These hands have not taken any lives."
Alfred hummed at her claim. "So the claim of… what was it… 'binding a demon to a mortal form' had merit?"
She shrugged, idly popping bubbles as she got washed. "They didn't teach me enough demonology for me to know if I'm actually a demon or not." She said, "I was mortal, once." Does being summoned by demonologists mean she counts as one? She wasn't sure. She tilted her head. "Do I count as a mortal now?"
"I would say so, Miss Lilith." Alfred said. "So twice, then."
"Thrice, actually." She corrected, "Each time in a different world, and I know for a fact that this one isn't connected to the other two." She was fully free from Being X, as there was no way he would have left her alone like he had if he was capable of seeing that she had escaped. "...Also, I don't like that name." She said, "Don't call me Lilith."
"What would you prefer?" Alfred asked immediately.
"...I'm a girl this time, so Tanya will do." Tanya said, "Plus whatever family name Batman has."
Alfred huffed in amusement. "While I'm not disagreeing, that's a bit presumptuous, isn't it?" He asked.
"Oh, the cult used Batman's genetic material in my creation. Blood, I'm pretty sure." Tanya said flippantly. "He's my biological father, although I'm curious if a DNA test would agree with me."
Alfred was quiet as he processed that. "Close your eyes." He said, and started washing Tanya's hair. "If you're so sure he's your father, why wouldn't a DNA test show that?"
"They had a magical ritual that could turn an arbitrary gene sample into viable sperm, and automatically achieve fertilization as a bonus." Tanya deadpanned. "I'm trying not to assume they were just idiots who were sitting on a billion dollar fertility treatment and that there was some reason they didn't commercialize it."
"Well, the members of that particular cult included several wealthy patrons." Alfred said, "According to the investigation. Perhaps money was just not a priority for them?"
Now that didn't make any sense. "I'd rather believe they were just afraid of witch hunts."
"That's probably why." Alfred said simply, taking the detachable shower head and rinsing Tanya's head off. Once finished, he lifted her out and started drying her off with the softest towel Tanya had ever felt. "Now, given matters, I should ask: Will you be needing protection?" He asked, carrying her into the bedroom. She noticed that the 'not-crib' bed actually was a crib, but the bars could be partially raised to become a child's bed. Handy. He gestured to what was clearly a diaper changing table, with a pack of diapers and training pants placed on top.
Tanya flushed. It was a legitimate question, but it was… embarrassing. "Yes… the cult didn't get around to potty training yet." Besides, it's still not too late to turn her over to some kind of exorcist. Devils don't have mortal foibles like needing to excrete, so a reminder of her human form would be useful. "I can start, though."
"Very well." Alfred said, before dressing her with speed borne of practice. She was not the first child this man has dealt with. "It's time to go meet Master Bruce, then."
Time to face the music.
-----------------------
"Welcome to Gotham Lifestyle! I'm Gabby Gilder, and with me for lunch is the absolutely scrumptious Bruce Wayne!" Said the host of the talk show. Tanya shifted uncomfortably in her seat on the couch, anxiously checking her teeth again with her tongue. Even through the TV, she felt like she was there. She ate another one of the tiny slices of raw beef steak that Alfred had prepared for her off of the artfully arranged plate. She wasn't entirely sure to what degree she needed meat more than an ordinary human, but it probably wasn't 'no extra meat'.
"It's good to be here, Gabby." Bruce said, smiling and without a trace of that growl that he used as Batman. "It's always nice to spend a meal with a pretty young woman like yourself."
"Oh Bruce, stop!" tittered the middle-aged talk show host. "Now, everyone's talking about this mysterious daughter, the question is on everyone's minds: who's the mother?"
Bruce frowned. "Ah, let's not talk about her. It's an unpleasant story."
"Well, at least talk about… Tanya, was it?" Gabby said, changing the subject.
"Certainly." He said, all smiles once more. "Now, a guy like me gets women with black-haired blue-eyed children claiming I'm the father all the time." He explained smoothly, drawing from what Tanya assumed to be truth to cloak the lies. "So we have a system, there's a laboratory that has my DNA on file so we can just send over the comparison data and get an answer within two hours." He actually has the equipment in his basement and the machine takes a mere half hour to exhaustively crosscheck the sample with the one on file.
"Now that's a fun thing for a kid to hear after supposedly meeting their dad for the first time." Gabby said jokingly. Tanya ate another slice of meat.
"Most of the time, the women reach out over the phone first, or through email, or through their lawyer who speaks to my lawyer." Bruce explained. "I like having the test results in hand before meeting the child to avoid exactly that. The test is fast enough and simple enough by now that it's easier to just run the test instead of going through the time and effort to dispute their claims."
"But then you got a positive result." Gabby said, finishing his story.
"Yes, but I'm afraid that this time was different in another way, too." Bruce said sadly. "It was a hospital who contacted me on this matter, not the mother." He moved his arms vaguely, as if to say 'now what?'. Tanya ate two slices of meat at once. They were too thin to get a good chew going otherwise.
"Ah, so she's… passed?" Gabby said dramatically, faking concern.
"A mental hospital, actually." Bruce said, frowning. "No place to raise a child, surely."
"Bet that spiced up the initial meeting, huh?" Gabby said with a puerile giggle.
"Funny story… no." Bruce said, getting to the point. Her biology prevented this from ever being fully secret. "Tanya wasn't conceived… naturally."
Gabby gasped. "So she's… a clone?"
"Sort of?" Bruce said, with his usual confidence completely absent, replaced with awkwardness. He was a fantastic actor. "I'm pretty sure it doesn't count as cloning. I'm not a scientist. The details aren't important." Just enough truth to make the public's imagination think of mad scientists doing unethical bioscience instead of demonologists. Well played.
"But you took her in anyway." Gabby said,
"Well, she doesn't exactly have anywhere else to go." Bruce said, more firmly. "But more importantly, she needs very specialized care. Expensive care." Tanya ate another slice of very expensive meat.
"Oh, you mean she's…" Gabby looked around suspiciously, a very odd thing to do for something that was going to be broadcasted "Special?" She stage-whispered.
"Not that kind of care." Bruce clarified. "She's aging faster than she should. She looks three, but she's actually six months old. As you can imagine, this creates… complications."
"I can only imagine…" Gabby said, sounding heartbroken. "She won't even live to become an adult at that pace…"
"Her prospects aren't necessarily that grim." Bruce countered, "Growing up and growing old aren't the same thing, biologically." After a beat, he added: "At least that's what the doctors said." Doctors which were utterly baffled as to her biology and sworn to secrecy. She should have starved, according to them. "-and she's remarkably bright, already talking and walking. We're optimistic that she'll at least make it to twenty-five, maybe even thirty." The studio audience loudly expressed concern. "That's without fruitful treatments. She'll outlive me if I have anything to say about it."
"Truly an inspiration. It was very brave of you to tell everyone about this." Gabby said, sucking up to the billionaire.
"Well, unless I keep her locked up in a tower or something, people are going to notice if she looks five by Christmas." Bruce said, laughing. "Best to get it out of the way now. In the interests of keeping her privacy, I'd like to change topics."
"Right, so does this mean the search for a stepmother for little Tanya has begun?" Gabby said, keenly interested.
Tanya turned off the oversized television. Well, people know now. As long as she plays dumb in public, toning down her grammar and acting childish, she can preserve Father's cover story without needing to advertise her true nature. She can probably get away with it as long as she doesn't act older than her apparent age, the mind following the body is one thing, but it's quite another to be talking like a college graduate while still wearing diapers.
Should be fun, honestly. She does enjoy banter, after all. Being able to just point at people and say rude things because 'she doesn't know any better' should be plenty amusing when the time comes to act her age. Being raised by strict nuns meant that essentially no part of childhood was actually enjoyable, but being raised by a billionaire in a modern world, without Being X hanging over her head… should be much more entertaining.
Speaking of the modern world… Tanya cackled as she started up her brand new gaming console. "Going around at the speed of sound, got places to go, gotta follow that rainbow!" She sang along with the game's background music as she started the first level. She loved this series in her first life, but stopped playing it before the transition to 3D games, having outgrown them. Now she'll be able to start again right where she left off.
Sure, the fact that her Father moonlights as a brutal vigilante without possessing superpowers is definitely going to get him killed… Ah shit. She's going to need to help him, isn't she? If she wants to keep all of this? He'd be a fool to leave her his entire fortune, given that she's only technically his daughter, and more of a charity case…
Well, he was smart enough to steal the cult's magical tomes on his way out as part of his general policy of confiscating dangerous materials before the cops got their corrupt hands on them, so she'll just have to start there. She might be able to use her new magic to support him… but she'd feel better if she had more to go on than spouting rhymes while focusing real hard on changing reality.
Besides, there might be information in there about her nature as a hanyou. Mother did mention a 'demon form' that she should be able to assume…
"Okay, now here's a square block." Said Mrs. Cher.
"Square." Tanya repeated, grabbing the block and feeling it out. She then stuck the block in her mouth.
Tanya had agreed with Bruce's logic that while his wealth made it theoretically possible for her to just hide away for two or three years before emerging as an adult, it was an incredibly risky endeavor that had the potential for explosive consequences. Unacceptable.
Further, he just wasn't that old. He had apparently spent his early teens to mid twenties in an educational frenzy, and it would be basically impossible to claim her as his child if they went with that plan. He refused to besmirch his father's name to claim a sibling relationship either, which was fair.
So they had to tell a misleading version of the truth mixed with lies. Mother really was imprisoned in a mental institution, it was just that the institution was Arkham Asylum for the criminally insane. The implication that there was complicated bioscience behind her creation was a genius move, she wasn't aware that this world was advanced enough to make that plausible.
The part where she pretended to act out developmental stages was her proposal, though. Bruce didn't want to suggest it himself, but once proposed he swiftly agreed and arranged for all of the necessary textbooks in child development necessary to let her get away with it.
They had split her act into three. First was physical development, the things that she wouldn't need to hold back at all. Walking, jumping, eating, and manual dexterity fell into this category. Second was her emotional development, where she would do her best to act purely according to her temporal age, as in, a six months old infant. Patience, attention span, modesty, and prioritization fell into this category. Third was her mental development, which is supposed to fall somewhere in between, age-wise. Vocabulary, math, and decision-making fell into this, and was a somewhat plausible explanation in case she got caught playing video games beyond her nominal levels of development.
Certain things clearly fell into multiple categories, such as potty training, but in those cases it was agreed to err on the side of younger, with ad hoc adjustments as needed. The accelerated growth meant that she'd still be coming out ahead, and diapers were a fantastic prop to sell her cover.
"Tanya, blocks aren't for eating." Mrs. Cher said patiently. She took the square block out of Tanya's mouth and placed it in her hands again. "Now, can you put the square block in the box?" Mrs. Cher asked, enunciating the word 'box' clearly and gesturing to it with multiple points of body language.
Tanya looked at the colorful box with holes of various shapes. Slowly, acting unsure, she fitted the block into the square hole.
This was supposed to be an initial cognitive test, to see how developed she was in comparison to her temporal age. Theoretically, if she passed, she could be sent to a special education school.
She was supposed to fail, of course. But failure in this case meant being unsuitable or unready for schooling, not being stupid. "That's right!" Mrs. Cher praised, "The square block goes into the square hole!"
"Square hole." Tanya repeated. "Block go square hole."
"Very good." Mrs. Cher said, gently patting Tanya on the head. "Now, this is a triangle block. Can you get it in the box?"
"Triangle." Tanya repeated, before sticking the block in her mouth.
"Blocks are not for eating, sweetie." Mrs. Cher said, still quite patient. She once more extracted the block from Tanya's mouth and moved it into her hands.
"Block…" She looked at the box and the block. Wait… Tanya smiled widely as she got an idea. "Block go square hole!" She announced proudly. With only a minor bit of maneuvering, the block went in rather simply.
"No, it goes in the triangle hole." Mrs. Cher said softly.
Tanya looked at her, confused. "Block go in square hole." She repeated, gesturing vaguely at the box. It fit, didn't it? It wasn't her fault that the manufacturer designed it poorly.
"...okay, how about this block? It's a circle. Can you say circle?" Mrs. Cher asked, giving up on her unassailable logic.
"Circle." Tanya said, looking over the block and the box. She opened her mouth again, but stopped halfway to putting the block inside. "Block…"
"That's right Tanya, blocks are not for eating." Mrs. Cher said, smiling widely at Tanya 'learning' a lesson.
Can this one… yes! "Block go in square hole!" She said cheerily, sliding the poorly designed block into the wrong slot.
The instantaneous change to a pinched expression of displeasure on Mrs. Cher's face was rather amusing, and Tanya acted her age by bursting out in laughter, clapping her hands at the funny face.
"This is a semicircle block." She said evenly, handing Tanya the object.
"Block go in square hole!" Tanya said, immediately turning the block in just the right way to fit it inside the box.
Mrs. Cher let out a pained whine and looked at Bruce, who was watching the exchange acting like he was trying not to laugh, pleadingly. "She's getting it in the box." Pointed out Bruce. "Seems like a design flaw to me."
This wasn't going to get any more entertaining. "Bottle." She demanded, looking at her diaper bag. Time to execute the failure plan.
"The test isn't finish-" Mrs. Cher tried to say.
"Bottle!" Tanya shouted over her. When she once more attempted to gently redirect Tanya's demand, she just started screaming until she was shut up by the bottle of custom high-calorie baby formula. It was chocolate flavored, because why not?
Bruce coughed, acting embarrassed at Mrs. Cher's disappointed look. "The doctors did advise that we try not to deny her food, and just let her eat when hungry." Which was all of the time, to be clear. The only reason she ever stopped eating was because while her digestion was quick, it wasn't instantaneous. But then ten minutes later, she was hungry again.
Mrs. Cher made a cleansing breath. "Well, let's move on to something else."
"Like a diaper change?" Bruce asked, pointing down at her.
"Already?" Mrs. Cher asked. "We just-"
"Yeah, you have to stay on top of that." Bruce said, nodding sagely like he was an experienced parent instead of just a good actor. "She doesn't really care about a wet diaper, Alfred was beside himself when she leaked over a hundred year old chair." Another strategic lie. Alfred was far too canny to give her the chance to do that. "Hang on Teia, you need to use the buckles. She'll roll off the table and run off if you don't." Aw, she was looking forward to the chase after they came up with that part of the plan.
"I know how to change a diaper, Mr. Wayne." Mrs. Cher said primly, putting the straps over Tanya but not securing them properly.
Tanya smiled as she waited for her moment. To Mrs. Cher's credit, she was nimble and kept a hand on Tanya's stomach… but she failed to account for how much stronger a three year old was in comparison to an actual baby, so once the cleaning phase was finished and the teacher lowered her guard to fetch a clean diaper, Tanya rolled off the table anyway and ran for the door, pantsless and full of mischief. Bruce launched himself at her in an attempt to catch the runaway toddler, but did so without any of the grace he possessed as the Batman and fell substantially short of his supposed goal. "Tanya! Come back!" He shouted, convincingly distressed, but Tanya responded with her own line, that of demented giggling.
In the end, it was agreed that while she was, indeed, a "very intelligent baby", it was clear that putting her with children her own age in a daycare would lead to her being bored, which would not end well, and she was far too immature for interactions with her mental/physical peers to work out any better.
Just as planned.
-----------------------
"The Bat walks the night as the Man walks the Bright. As the sun sets in the west, the Bat wakes from his rest." Tanya intoned, waving her hands as hellish power emanated from them. Her eyes glowed with power, illuminating the dark corner of the cave with silvery light.
Batman inhaled sharply, snapped from the desperate exhaustion he was in to full alertness. "I feel… rested." He said, wondering at her work. "Why was it so much better than last time?" He asked.
Tanya smiled proudly. "According to my reading, magic tends to work with… associations. While yes, I could do most offensive or destructive things by barely trying with a token rhyme and manage through sheer power… constructive and healing magic works a bit differently. By tying the spell with the night and day cycle, along with the duality of your identity, I was able to give you a much more thorough energizing spell." Tanya's smile slipped a bit. "I can do it again, but only at sunrise or sunset, and only if you refrain from acting as Batman for at least eight hours before sunset, or the reverse. The fact that you were Bruce Wayne for the last ten hours was the only reason it worked."
Batman nodded, absorbing the explanation. "Multiverse theory, creating a differentiated superposition between me as Batman and not. My Batman half sleeps while the not half acts..." Tanya rolled her eyes. While yes, that sounded about right, his insistence on explaining her spells scientifically got boring after a while. Even in her second life, where math directed the spells, there wasn't much understanding on why the magic worked, just that it did.
"I would say that the magic altered your neurochemistry by using a post-cognitive simulation of that happening as a guide, but to each their own." Tanya said, before sighing. "Now go solve crimes or punch clowns or whatever it is that you do. I've done my part."
Batman nodded and turned dramatically, striding with purpose towards the Batmobile and getting in.
Once the caped crusader had left, Alfred spoke up: "Is it really wise to let him overwork himself even more?"
"If he won't listen to you about limiting his work, I don't have much of a chance." Tanya said firmly. "I wasn't exactly trained in medical magic, but Devil magic works differently enough that I'm not much disadvantaged by that."
"It is an improvement, I suppose." Alfred said dryly. "Now, I let you stay up because of your magic idea, but now it's bedtime, Miss Tanya."
Tanya yawned. "Yeah, yeah. Can I have some chocolate milk?" by which she meant the high calorie formula.
"Of course."
-----------------------
Tanya didn't get to go on dedicated outings much. Going along with wherever Bruce was going as part of his work with Wayne Enterprises? Plenty of that, as Alfred could only be in one place at a time and if anyone caught wind of her being left without a minder for any substantial amount of time… well, undoable. It wasn't so bad, she got to throw things at people. Mostly because part of her infantile persona was an intense dislike, which was not entirely faked, for flash photography, so she chucked whatever was on hand at anyone who took her picture.
There were plenty of jokes about her taking Bruce's place the next time he was asked to throw the first pitch at a baseball game.
But while Batman did handle costumed crazies, and she means that quite literally, the vast majority of his work was dealing with more mundane, organized crime. Which sometimes required that he take action as Bruce instead of Batman.
In this case, he was taking Tanya to the circus. Not to submit her application to the freak show, which was a joke only she found funny (probably because Haly's circus didn't have a freak show, not that she knew that at the time), but to instead gather some information that could only be acquired during the day, in a crowded area. Part of Batman's mystique was stealth, and part of maintaining that legend without magical stealth powers was not attempting to hide from hundreds of people while wearing a very conspicuous bat suit in a place with few good hiding places.
Honestly, Tanya was a little unclear on why he needed to be here, something about a protection racket he was investigating, criminal boss named Tony Zucco, but all she needed to do was provide Bruce an excuse to visit the circus, which was a role she made sure to enjoy.
Currently, the famous acrobats were beginning their death defying routine, without a net as was their custom. Seemed stupid to her, but she's done more dangerous under less controlled conditions, so she really doesn't have room to talk. She was seated in her luxuriously comfortable stroller, which was brought out more to keep her from running off than anything else. Also to make Bruce slipping away from her for short times be less irresponsible. She didn't mind; as mentioned the customized mobile kid prison was quite comfortable.
She took another bite of her corn dog. Delicious. "Wow! They're flying, Daddy!" She said with wonder, hamming up her performance.
Bruce chuckled. "They sure are, Tanya." Then he frowned. "What is…"
Bruce had good instincts, his trained mind picking up on cues he didn't consciously understand to give him flashes of intuition. Tanya tensed as she sensed his sudden worry.
But whatever minor hint tipped him off, it was too late. The trapeze snapped, sending the adult members of the Flying Greysons plummeting to the ground while their son watched in horror.
Shit, what rhymes with net? "Though you made a risky bet, lucky that-" it was too late. She welded her lips shut, letting the magic painfully ground out. She was too slow.
Fortunately, there was no way an ordinary person would notice the sparks of silver magic, not the crackling of hellfire that sounded out with it. Not in the cacophony of horrified screams, nor with the incredibly distracting scene in the middle of the Big Top.
Unfortunately, it was the start of something very inconvenient for her.
-----------------------
Richard was a boy that was angry at the world. Which was fair. The world deserved it.
"I don't want to play with the stupid baby." He shouted indignantly at Alfred.
"Perhaps some videogames then, Master Dick?" Alfred said patiently.
Tanya watched the boy, idly chewing on a tough rubber toy. While she's kept up the baby act enough over the past month since the cult bust up that it had started to become second nature, it was still a little tiresome to keep up in places that she could relax before Bruce decided to adopt the unfortunate eight year old orphan.
"...Fine." Richard said, interested despite himself. "What do you have?"
"Miss Tanya is rather fond of this one." Alfred said, turning on the game that was currently inside it.
"...wait, she can play videogames?" Richard asked, confused.
"She's quite advanced for her age in more than just size, Master Dick." Alfred said.
Taking the opening for what it was, Tanya walked to the couch and climbed on. "I wanna play." She said, in that stubborn tone that indicated that only a contest of wills would sway her.
"Here you are, Miss." Alfred said, before handing Richard a second controller.
The game that was supposed to be her "favorite game" if anyone asked was Super Monkey Ball, a chaotic, colorful, and most importantly simple title that would appeal to the younger demographic, and also was fun enough that Tanya liked it, although she spent far more time optimizing her legion of pets in the Sonic game. Which she named after her old battalion.
Still, the fact that Richard didn't have videogames of his own as a circus acrobat, only occasionally getting the chance to play other people's games, meant that he was clumsy with the controller, although he grasped the physics engine appropriately quickly for someone used to three dimensional maneuvering.
"Ha!" He said when he finally secured a victory, after fourteen losses. "This is the beginning of the end for you!"
"I want a snack." Tanya said, the unspoken 'bored now' added by her careless discarding of the controller. "Alfred? Can I have a snack?"
"Of course, Miss Tanya." Alfred said. "I have some carpaccio here for you." He took a plate of thinly sliced beef from the table and presented it to her.
"Hey!" Richard said, indignant. "I wasn't done with you!"
"You play whatever." Tanya said, yawning.
"Perhaps a nap after you finished your snack, Miss Tanya?" Alfred suggested.
"Sounds good." Tanya said. "Ri-chan needs a nap too."
"It's Richard." Richard corrected, emphasizing the D. Tanya snorted at her own private joke. "Call me Dick."
"Dick." Tanya repeated, pointing at him as she ate the meat with her off hand.
"That's not what I mean!" Richard said, understanding exactly what she was getting at. Then he paused. "Argh, I'm arguing with a literal baby."
"Losing." Tanya pointed out smugly.
"No, I'm not going to argue with you." Richard said stubbornly. "You don't even know what that means." He turned to Alfred, anger firming his posture and, paradoxically, making him more respectful to the authority figure. "I'm pretty sure she needs a change."
"Yep." Tanya said in agreement shamelessly, downing the last slice of beef. It was pre-portioned for her, so there wasn't much. "All done. I want chocolate milk with my nap."
Richard growled at his failure to get a rise out of her. Being a spoiled brat was fun.
-----------------------
Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.
Well, two out of three wasn't bad. "Still have ten more minutes until sunrise." Tanya said, yawning. "Let's talk about your cases. You need to stay Batman to keep the spell at peak performance."
Batman hummed. Both of them glanced at the gigantic supercomputer, and went to sit down, Batman in his chair and Tanya in his lap. "Currently, I'm still looking into the Greyson's murder. I've managed to collect enough evidence that the GCPD can arrest both Tony Zucco and his patsy, but he's caught wind of my interest. Tony's laying low, and I can't find him."
"Perhaps a locator spell?" Tanya asked, looking over the evidence listed on the screen. "Worth a try." he doesn't need a chain of evidence for producing the perp, after all.
"Hn. Maybe." Batman said, before moving on. "Crane's starting trouble again." he said, opening the file on 'The Scarecrow'. "There was a lost shipment of chemicals between two ACE chemical plants, and it included a vital component in his fear toxin. With the quantities involved, he'll be able to make enough fear toxin to dose all of Gotham if he uses it right."
"More realistically, more like a fifth of Gotham." Tanya added. Distribution was always the problem.
"He could get up to a third if he gets it in a water treatment plant." Batman corrected. "-and that assumes that he hasn't improved the formula again."
"Any leads on the shipment?" Tanya asked.
"None. It was a professional job, uncharacteristic of Crane. He had help." That wasn't nothing, but yeah, not great.
"Any other suspects he could have allied with?" Tanya asked, more to sound out ideas than anything else.
"Bane is at the top of my suspect list, but it's tenuous." Batman said, frowning. "Some of the chemicals can be used in Venom, but they're also the more common ones. Hard to track." No one but Bane knew the full process of producing Venom, but it was impossible to escape Batman's notice entirely; they had a full ingredient list on file. "But his men are professional, and robbing chemical shipments would be rather routine to them. Little risk of them mishandling it." Not to mention the advantages of Bane himself participating. "There are a few other sources of professional thieves..."
There was a subtle shift in the air, Tanya could taste the magic of the world cycling from night to day. "Ah, it's sunrise." She said before shifting her stance to stand on Batman's chair. She gripped his cowl and started to incant: "The Man rules the day while the Bat stalks the bay, the world rises at dawn, so your work will go on." To cap off the spell, she threw off the cowl, revealing his face, which now looked refreshed and ready to take on the day.
While Bruce made sure not to rely on magical sleep replacement completely, they saw nothing wrong with using it every other day, giving him far more time than was otherwise possible, invaluable for someone living a double life. Pretending he was just hungover was rather unwise after claiming her and adopting Richard. "Ah, thank you, Princess." Bruce said, without a trace of Batman's growl. "Come on, I could use a nice bubblebath, and I know how much you like those." Tanya smiled and wrapped her arms around Bruce's thick neck, dangling for long enough for him to start supporting her weight with his arms.
That would be a side-effect of the spell. Because it relies on distancing his personae, casting it in the morning gave him the impulse to do Bruce-specific things, which given her presence when he had such an impulse was frequently 'father-daughter' things. Tanya didn't mind; from her perspective the only difference between Bruce and Alfred was that Bruce was more affectionate when playing his role, and she still had enough of a monkey brain to like it. Also, the impulse to act 'Bruce-like' lasted for less than an hour, and the missed sleep started to catch back up to him if he resisted the influence. Magic was weird in this world.
At breakfast, Richard seemed more irritated than usual. "What's wrong, Dick?" Bruce asked, concerned. "It's still the weekend, you still have another day before you have to go back to school." Tanya watched the exchange from her position in her customized "high chair". She was nominally too immature to stay at the table without being physically restrained into her seat.
"Why do you care?" Richard said petulantly. "I'm just going to be stuck in this giant house all day, while that bastard that killed my family is still out there!"
"Ah." Bruce said, understanding. "You read the newspaper." Hm. There must have been an article about the Greyson murders.
"They said it was their fault!" Richard shouted angrily. "That Mom and Dad were stupid, that they didn't check the rope!" He sniffled, stabbing his eggs with his fork. "They checked the rope. I was there."
Bruce's demeanor shifted, the characteristically deep anger that created The Batman seething out of him from the set of his shoulders. After a second, the intensity faded, leaving behind only the fop that only cared so much. "I know how that feels." He said instead of anything more pointed.
"No you don't." Richard spat.
"I remember what they wrote." Bruce said with a touch of heat. "'Why the Waynes decided to attend that theater, in one of the most crime-riddled neighborhoods in Gotham, beggars belief! They couldn't have been inviting the criminal element any more if Martha Wayne had been wearing her most famous necklace, appraised at six hundred thousand dollars.'"
Tanya's eyes widened. Oh. That was… in incredibly bad taste. Maybe she should… do something silly? Cry? It seemed wrong to break the moment…
Richard stared at Bruce, gobsmacked. The tears he had been holding back flowed freely, and he whispered: "Okay, maybe you do." After a moment, he asked: "What did you do?"
Bruce smiled, tears of emotion escaping his eyes as well. Apparently he still had strong feelings about that article… "I did a lot of things. But… one thing I did was learn karate. Do you want to do that? It's good for when you feel angry."
"Yeah… I do." Richard said, wiping away his tears. "I definitely want to punch something."
Ah, there's an opportunity to defuse some tension. "Punch me and I bite you." Tanya deadpanned.
Both of them laughed.