Godfather Owl: Guardian of Batman [214]

Knock, knock, knock!

After returning from the library, Kathoom knocked on the door of the Ancient One's meditation chamber.

"Ancient One, open up!" he hollered. "Don't pretend you're not there—I know you are!"

The door swung open on its own, revealing the Ancient One's mildly exasperated expression as Kathoom flew in.

"What do you want this time?" she asked. "You've been stirring up trouble everywhere, and I've said nothing."

"I know," Kathoom replied with a mischievous grin. "I also know you're secretly pleased with how much chaos I'm causing."

The Ancient One's eyes betrayed a glimmer of amusement despite her composed demeanor.

She was well aware of Kathoom's shenanigans with the dimensional gods. Far from stopping him, she seemed content to observe from a distance.

"You're in debt up to your bald head," Kathoom teased, "and deep down, you want more people to join your little club of borrowers."

"You're planning to involve that boy, aren't you?"

Kathoom nodded smugly. "Bruce is about to meet the dimensional gods. I figured I should at least inform you before the big moment."

The Ancient One raised a brow. "Are you asking for my blessing or hoping I'll intervene?"

"Neither. Just thought you might enjoy the show. Want to come and watch?"

The Ancient One shook her head, her smile subtle.

"There's no need. As long as you stay in the Mirror Dimension, no harm will come to the real world."

"You're not worried we'll cause some catastrophe?"

"Cause what?" she asked, failing to suppress a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth. "If you manage to trick the dimensional gods, I'd say that's their problem, not ours."

"Fair enough. Just don't spy on us from the shadows."

Kathoom fluttered toward the door, pausing for one last jab.

"And try not to fall for our boy Bruce. I know how you like them young and impressionable."

With that, the owl vanished, leaving the Ancient One behind, her face a portrait of perplexed disbelief.

---

When Kathoom arrived at Bruce's room, the young man seemed unusually subdued, though he tried to hide it.

"Cheer up," Kathoom said. "You knew this was bound to happen."

Earlier that day, Bruce had met his S.H.I.E.L.D. instructor: none other than Clint Barton, better known as Hawkeye.

Seeing Clint had dredged up memories of the Old Man Logan universe, where Bruce had once known an older, more sardonic version of the archer. He'd hoped to strike up a conversation, but this Clint had no recollection of him.

"That's just how it is when you hop across universes," Kathoom remarked. "You'll see the same faces, but they won't be the same people.

"The Hawkeye from your memories is doing just fine. Stop worrying so much."

Bruce sighed. "I understand. I just need a moment to adjust."

In his memories, Clint had been a charming old man who used his blindness as fodder for jokes.

But this world's Clint was grim, stoic, and laser-focused. During training, he could sit perfectly still for hours, observing Bruce with an intensity that was almost unsettling.

"That said, his training has been effective," Bruce admitted. "He pointed out a few flaws in my fighting style and taught me better ways to build stamina."

"Good! Now that your body's been worked to the bone, let it rest for a while," Kathoom said.

Before Bruce could protest, the owl smacked him squarely in the chest, sending his soul flying out of his body. His physical form crumpled onto the floor.

With another wave of his wing, Kathoom levitated Bruce's body onto the bed, tucking it in neatly. It looked almost peaceful—like a sleeping corpse.

"Does this actually help me rest?" Bruce asked, watching the scene in disbelief.

"It's great for peace of mind."

Kathoom dismissed the question with a flap of his wings. "Now, focus. We have bigger things to do."

The air fractured into shards again as the two re-entered the Mirror Dimension.

"Ready?" Kathoom asked as they floated high above the city, their spectral forms shimmering against the distorted skyline.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Bruce replied. Then, a thought occurred to him.

"How do these dimensional gods compare to Barbatos?"

Kathoom tilted his head. "That's a tough one. The gods vary wildly in power.

"Some, especially from remote dimensions, are about as strong as Zeus."

"And the stronger ones?"

Kathoom paused for effect.

"Well, let's just say you'll find out soon enough."

In theory, Barbatos, the ruler of the Dark Multiverse, should surpass any single-dimensional overlord in strength.

But the problem is this: Barbatos has been explicitly defeated in the original comics, while most dimensional gods have never fully displayed their power.

So, the question of who is stronger remains unanswered.

As Bruce mulled this over, Kathoom began the preparations.

The owl brought his wings together, then spread them wide. The sky twisted and folded, revealing a jagged black rift.

"The portal's open," Kathoom announced.

Bruce didn't have time to reply before the scenery around him warped.

In an instant, he felt as if he'd been hurled out of Earth's atmosphere.

Against the infinite darkness of space, he could see the Earth's curved horizon, its atmosphere glowing with a thin blue halo.

Energy swirled around him in vibrant ribbons, distorting and fracturing the world in his mind.

"This method of teleportation is even rougher than I imagined," Kathoom said, his voice distant, echoing through the void. "Even traveling through dimensional tunnels isn't this nauseating."

Bruce silently agreed. He was on the verge of vomiting.

The scenery shifted wildly—kaleidoscopic and incomprehensible. Bruce felt his body shatter and reassemble over and over, thousands of times.

At one point, he passed through a massive, staring eye and tumbled into a crystalline void.

Here, he saw countless versions of himself, all twisted and strange.

"Oops, wrong turn," Kathoom muttered. "This dimension's abandoned. Ignore those creatures—they're just mimicking you."

The entities were detailed in Kamar-Taj's tomes, and if Bruce had read them thoroughly, this shouldn't have been a surprise.

Soon, they plunged into another dimension.

This time, the dimension wasn't a realm but a face—an enormous, grotesque face. Its eyes burned with raw power and seething hatred.

As it stared at him, Bruce felt malevolent emotions well up within him: anger, hatred, violence. These emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

"Earthling," the face growled. "You should not have come here."

Chunks of energy, like shattered stone, hurtled toward Bruce. He couldn't react in time as they pierced through his spectral form.

But nothing happened.

Bruce was still intact, still alive.

"Hehehehe…"

The face let out a low, sinister laugh. "You dare face me in your soul state?"

It seemed baffled by Bruce's audacity. Facing a dimensional lord with only a soul was insanity—one wrong move could mean eternal obliteration.

Yet here he stood.

"Dormammu!"

Kathoom's voice rang out, interrupting the tension.

"We're here to negotiate!"

"You're here to die!"

The face—Dormammu, lord of the Dark Dimension and nemesis of Doctor Strange—seemed enraged. He unleashed another barrage of energy, which once again passed harmlessly through Bruce and Kathoom.

"Pointless, Dormammu," Kathoom said, unfazed. "Our real bodies are safe in the physical world. You can't harm our souls."

Dormammu didn't care. He continued his relentless assault, trying over and over to destroy them.

Eventually, Kathoom grew bored.

He flopped down onto the ground with a dramatic sigh, making himself comfortable as Dormammu raged.

Bruce, equally unimpressed, took the opportunity to observe his surroundings.

The Dark Dimension was unlike anything he'd ever seen.

Planets of various sizes floated in the void, some resembling massive bacteria, others ablaze with mysterious flames.

They varied in size—from small enough to touch to spheres larger than Jupiter, even larger than the Sun.

Crackling energy arced between the celestial bodies, but Bruce saw no signs of life.

He stood on a small asteroid with glowing blue vents scattered across its surface, exhaling foul-smelling steam.

The surreal beauty of the dimension paired strangely with Dormammu's tantrum.

"You call this a battle?" Dormammu finally snapped, his voice trembling with fury. "At least pretend to fight back!"

"Looks like you've calmed down," Kathoom said, leaping back to his feet. Dormammu's attacks had ceased.

"I told you, Dormammu," Kathoom continued. "Our real bodies are elsewhere. Your efforts are futile."

Then the owl's tone shifted to mockery.

"No wonder invoking your power is considered forbidden. If your attitude is this difficult, summoning you must feel like a death wish."

"What do you want?" Dormammu demanded, his patience clearly thinning.

"We're here to make a deal."

"A deal?"

"An investment opportunity!" Kathoom grinned, his feathers ruffling with excitement.

"We'd like to borrow some of your power. And don't worry—it's not charity. We'll repay you… with double the power!"

Double.

The sheer audacity of Kathoom's offer momentarily stunned Dormammu.

"Do you know the consequences of deceiving a dimensional lord?" Dormammu growled, his curiosity piqued despite himself. "Explain—how will you repay double my power?"

Dormammu wasn't inherently against lending his power. It was a tactic he often used, empowering devout followers to spread his influence across the multiverse.

Eventually, these followers would summon him into their realm, allowing him to consume entire dimensions and grow stronger.

But this owl's proposal was absurd.

"Do you understand what you're promising?" Dormammu mocked. "Power like mine is not so easily multiplied."

At his level, even incremental gains required immense effort. The idea of doubling his power was laughable.

"Why don't you let us prove it?" Kathoom said, raising a single wing as if giving a thumbs-up.

"I'm an owl of my word. Lend us a bit of power, and in one week, we'll return it—doubled."

"A week?" Dormammu sneered. "Not a century? Not a millennium?"

"Nope. One week," Kathoom confirmed.

For the first time, Dormammu hesitated.

Kathoom's confidence was disarming, even unsettling. Despite his absurd request, he had survived Dormammu's repeated assaults without flinching.

Perhaps… this owl knows something I don't.

It was a gamble, certainly. But lending a small amount of power wasn't a significant risk. Even if he were deceived, it wouldn't be a major loss.

The lord of the Dark Dimension began to consider the offer.

Bruce, silently observing, smirked to himself.

He's falling for it.

Kathoom had explained the plan beforehand, and Bruce knew the key to its success.

When we're done here, we're leaving this dimension for good, Bruce thought.

Kathoom's strategy was simple yet bold.

He intended to pull off a multiversal Ponzi scheme—with the dimensional gods as his victims.

---

T/N: GAH WORST PART TO END THINGS ON!!!! NO MORE CHAPTERS WE HAVE RAN OUT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA ill update this whenever a new chapter comes out which could be never... anyway check out other stories uwu?

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