THE DEATH KNELL

The descent into the lower levels was just as ominous as expected. The air grew denser, tinged with a metallic scent that hinted at rusted steel and long-dried blood. Slade Wilson led the way, his steps soundless despite the weight of his armor. Shadows stretched across the cracked concrete walls, flickering under the dim emergency lights.

After moving through the corridor and eliminating minor obstacles—mutated rodents, automated turrets long past their prime, and the occasional decayed security drone—they finally arrived at a set of stairs and an elevator that led deeper underground.

Slade glanced at the elevator panel, his eyes narrowing. "Not an option," he muttered. "Too risky. If it malfunctions, we're trapped."

Black Canary gave a nod of agreement. "And if something is waiting for us down there, we'll be sitting ducks."

Without further discussion, the group opted for the stairwell. They moved in practiced formation, their steps barely making a sound as they descended to the negative second floor. The walls here were darker, stained with something that looked suspiciously like old blood.

At the bottom, the corridor opened into a vast underground space. Slade found the distribution box still active and flipped the switches. Instantly, a harsh white glow flooded the area, revealing a massive laboratory hidden beneath the city. The ceiling stretched high above them, and before them lay an array of transparent glass enclosures—hundreds of them.

Each chamber contained surgical tables, medical equipment, and an assortment of tools, some pristine, others stained with old residue. The sheer scale of the operation was staggering.

Barbara Gordon let out a slow breath. "This… this is beyond anything I expected."

"It's all dissecting tables," Slade noted grimly. "No way forward but through."

The group advanced, weaving between glass enclosures like visitors at a macabre museum exhibit. Every few steps, their reflections shimmered in the transparent walls, giving the eerie illusion of more figures moving alongside them.

Some of the operating tables were empty. Others… were not.

Shriveled bodies, their forms twisted in unnatural ways, lay motionless on the slabs. Some had extra limbs. Others had patches of thick, reptilian skin. A few had glassy eyes that seemed to follow them.

The air was thick with silence, save for the faint hum of old machinery still running on residual power.

"Why leave all this behind?" Black Canary murmured. "If they abandoned this place, why not destroy it?"

Slade didn't respond. He knew the answer—because they never expected to leave. Something had forced them out.

Their path led them to a reinforced steel door, its surface covered in dust and faded security markings. The patterns on the metal were barely discernible, obscured by time and neglect.

Slade ran a gloved hand over the control panel. "Card slot and a keypad. Barbara, you're up."

With a practiced motion, he rolled Barbara Gordon's wheelchair forward. Without hesitation, she pulled apart the casing of the ID scanner, revealing a mess of multi-colored wires. Her fingers worked quickly, extracting a small device from her bag and linking it to her laptop.

"The most ancient door lock I've ever seen," she muttered, typing in a command. "This looks like something from the '90s. Government issue, probably pre-millennium."

A series of lines scrolled across her screen, and moments later, she retrieved the passcode. She keyed it in, and with a hydraulic hiss, the steel door slid upward. Dust cascaded down like rain.

What lay beyond made them pause.

The chamber was filled with towering glass tanks, each containing creatures suspended in a viscous blue liquid. Strange, mutated figures curled within, some vaguely human, others… something else. Bubbles streamed upward in slow motion, distorting their already grotesque forms.

Black Canary let out a low whistle. "What the hell were they doing down here?"

Barbara hesitated before stepping forward. "I can try accessing their logs…"

Slade nodded. "Do it."

Barbara approached the nearest console—a sleek, metal pillar with an embedded keyboard and a dimly glowing screen. She set her laptop on her lap and connected it to the system.

Lines of data filled the screen as she worked. "They were experimenting with hybrid genetics… combining human DNA with animals."

She clicked on the first file and read aloud.

"Test subject: Human and armadillo. Purpose: Stealth infiltration and reconnaissance. Experiment attempts: 320. Status: Deceased. Recommended action: Re-manufacture test subject."

Black Canary scoffed. "An armadillo? What, were they hoping to roll their way into enemy bases?"

"Unlikely," Slade replied. "More probable they were looking for durable, adaptable soldiers. The military doesn't fund experiments unless they see potential results."

Barbara scrolled through more data, her face hardening as she read the next entries.

"Dragonfly-human hybrid… designed for aerial surveillance."

"Mosquito-human hybrid… intended for biochemical delivery."

"Lizard-human hybrid… engineered for rapid regeneration."

With each entry, Barbara's expression darkened. The more she read, the more she realized the depths of depravity hidden in this place.

This wasn't just about creating weapons.

This was playing god.

Slade remained silent, watching her reaction. He knew this was exactly what he wanted her to see—the ugly truth. This wasn't about heroes and villains, about right and wrong. This was power, unchecked and relentless.

After a few more entries, Barbara finally stopped. Her knuckles were white against the keyboard.

Slade glanced around the room. Some tanks were shattered, their contents missing. The blue fluid had long since dried, leaving faint, pale stains on the floor.

"Some of them got out," he said.

Barbara resumed typing. More data flickered across the screen.

"Human and bat hybrid… nocturnal operative, designed to navigate in darkness using echolocation. Status: Containment failure. Last known action: Security breach detected. Contact security team immediately."

Black Canary smirked, flexing her fingers around her weapons. "Looks like we've found one of Batman's lost cousins."

Slade's eyes flicked upward, and his hand went to his sword.

"Look up," he murmured.

The team followed his gaze.

High above them, clinging to the ceiling, was a massive, fur-covered shape. Its wings were wrapped around its body, and its face was obscured beneath a tangle of bristling hair. But even in the dim light, its eyes gleamed.

Then, it moved.

A guttural screech echoed through the chamber as the creature unfurled its wings and launched itself downward.

Black Canary reacted first, twin pistols flashing in her hands as she opened fire. The bullets struck true, embedding themselves in the beast's thick hide.

It shrieked in rage, veering wildly before correcting its flight path. Its claws flexed, and its jaw unhinged in a grotesque display of serrated fangs.

Slade didn't hesitate. "Spread out! Bring it down before it calls for reinforcements!"

The fight had begun.

And whatever was left in this lab wasn't going to let them leave without a fight.