Saiyan of Gotham

The Wayne Manor laboratory hummed with the energy of discovery. Lucius Fox, sleeves rolled up, stood at a reinforced workbench, his eyes fixed on the latest project: a heavily modified Saiyan scouter. The device, once battered and alien, now gleamed with WayneTech's signature blue circuitry and custom interface. Thomas Wayne watched from the doorway, curiosity and caution warring in his gaze.

Lucius turned a dial, adjusting the scouter's output. "We've increased the sensor range by a factor of ten," he explained. "If this works, we'll be able to map strength signatures across the city—maybe even the world."

Thomas nodded, but his voice was measured. "Let's keep it at low power for now. We don't know how Earth's atmosphere will react to Saiyan tech."

Lucius offered a reassuring smile. "I've triple-checked the failsafes. What could possibly—"

A sudden whine cut through the lab. The scouter's screen flickered, then burst into a cascade of red and gold. Warning symbols flashed in alien script. Lucius reached for the power switch, but the device pulsed, refusing to shut down.

"Something's wrong," Lucius muttered, fingers flying over the controls. "It's not responding."

Thomas stepped forward, urgency sharpening his tone. "Pull the main breaker."

Lucius hesitated, but Thomas's command was clear. He yanked the emergency disconnect. The scouter's display froze, then slowly resolved into a global map—a swirling image of Earth, overlaid with thousands, no, millions of tiny red dots.

For a moment, both men stared in silence.

The scouter's interface zoomed in, as if guided by unseen logic. The planet's surface was awash in red, each dot pulsing with a number. Thomas's breath caught as he realized what he was seeing: a live scan of power levels across the world.

"Is this… possible?" Lucius whispered.

Thomas leaned closer, eyes wide. "It's reading strength signatures. All of them."

They watched as the scouter zoomed into North America, then the eastern seaboard, then Gotham City itself. The city's map was a sea of faint red dots, each labeled with a number—most between 20 and 60, the average human range. But here and there, brighter dots flared: 100, 150, even 200.

Thomas tapped the screen, isolating one such dot. "Two hundred? That's… impossible. No human should register that high."

Lucius frowned, recalibrating the display. "It's not just Gotham. Look—"

He dragged the map westward, across the rolling plains to a small town in Kansas. The scouter's sensors pulsed, and suddenly a bright red dot appeared near Smallville, its number fluctuating wildly—far higher than any in Gotham.

Thomas's mind raced. "That's… that can't be. Unless—"

Lucius finished his thought. "Unless there are others like Ojaga. Or something even stronger."

The scouter continued to scan, revealing clusters of high readings near major cities—Metropolis, Central City, even the distant waters near Atlantis. Each dot told a story: a hidden power, a secret waiting to be discovered.

Thomas stepped back, shaken. "We need to be careful with this. If word got out—"

Lucius nodded grimly. "We lock it down. No one else sees this data."

They powered down the scouter, securing it in a lead-lined case. The implications were staggering. Earth was not as ordinary as it seemed. There were beings—perhaps dozens, perhaps millions—capable of feats beyond human understanding.

Upstairs, the world felt much simpler. In the quiet of the library, Ojaga and Bruce sat at a table, a multifold chessboard spread between them. The pieces glinted in the afternoon light, each move a silent conversation.

Bruce tapped his knight, considering. "You always think three moves ahead."

Ojaga smiled, his eyes distant. "Sometimes, you have to. The world isn't always fair."

Bruce grinned, sliding his bishop into play. "But it's more fun when you're not alone."

Ojaga nodded, feeling the truth of it. For all his strength, all his secrets, it was moments like these—shared laughter, quiet competition—that anchored him to this world.

The game continued, each brother learning, adapting, growing. Outside, the city buzzed with life, unaware of the secrets hidden in its shadows.

Down in the lab, Thomas made a final note in his journal:

"Earth is not what it appears. We are not alone. Must protect Ojaga—and Bruce. The world is changing."

As evening fell, Wayne Manor stood as a silent sentinel, guarding its mysteries. The brothers, side by side, faced the unknown with courage and curiosity, their bond unbreakable.

And somewhere, far beyond Gotham, other red dots flickered on the scouter's map—each one a story waiting to unfold.