Godfather Owl: Guardian of Batman [168]

“I once sought to save the world, this beautiful planet.”

“But back then, I was so naïve…”

—

France, The Louvre.

Diana Prince, an artifact restoration expert, made her way to her studio as usual.

She walked past the iconic glass pyramid designed by I.M. Pei in 1989, her heels clicking rhythmically against the stone pavement, her stride confident and fluid.

A flowing red dress adorned her figure, reminiscent of fine wine, perfectly accentuating her elegant curves.

Diana entered her studio, a place where soft, focused lighting illuminated ancient relics on her workbench. Each beam seemed to awaken the dormant history within these artifacts.

Amid the antique displays sat a sleek, modern box.

“Who sent this?” Diana asked her assistant, picking up the box with curiosity.

“Wayne Enterprises,” the assistant replied with a wink. “You know, that Bruce guy!”

Diana ignored the teasing, shaking her head as she opened the box.

Inside, she found an old photograph encased in glass, yellowed with age.

In the photo, Diana wore her gladiator-style battle armor, draped in a black cloak. Beside her stood a boy, also cloaked in black, shorter by half a head.

On the boy’s shoulder perched an owl, its wings extended as if posing cheekily for the camera.

Alongside the photo was a letter.

“I found the original. Maybe someday you’ll tell me your story. And—”

“Why does the boy in this photo look so much like I did as a child?”

The letter was signed: Bruce Wayne.

—

The Multiversal Tunnel.

“Quietly… quietly…”

Kathoom guided Bruce along the path they had traveled two and a half years earlier, returning to the entrance of the DC Universe.

“Here we are, lad,” Kathoom said. “Step through this gateway, and you’ll be home.”

The owl paused before asking, “Want to check in on your home world first?”

“No!” Bruce shook his head immediately.

Over the years, he’d occasionally used the magical correspondence Kathoom had set up to send updates to Alfred.

Though he never received replies, Bruce trusted Alfred was reading them.

But Bruce knew if he went back now—especially in his current, ragged state—Alfred would likely drag him back home and lock him down indefinitely.

“No way,” Bruce muttered. “Not like this. Alfred would think I’ve been causing trouble everywhere.”

“Well…” Kathoom smirked, “you’re not exactly wrong. Stuffing five metals into your past self and crashing the Harry Potter world doesn’t exactly scream responsible behavior.”

“Let’s see what stage the DCEU is in now,” Kathoom said, sticking his head into the DC Universe while keeping his body in the multiversal tunnel.

Moments later, he pulled back.

“We’re a bit early,” Kathoom noted. “The DCEU is in 1914. The Sarajevo incident just happened.”

Bruce blinked. “1914? World War I hasn’t even started yet!”

He almost suggested jumping forward a hundred years, but the lessons from his battle with Paradox Batman stopped him.

No more reckless time manipulation.

“Don’t worry,” Kathoom reassured. “Even in 1914, the means to kill a god exist.”

“Our goal is clear—Themyscira. Ready, Bruce?”

Bruce felt a sense of déjà vu just as a powerful force struck him from behind.

Kathoom, with a practiced kick, sent Bruce tumbling into the DCEU.

—

Above Themyscira.

Bruce floated in mid-air, scanning the empty ocean below him.

Dumbledore’s enchanted flying cloak billowed behind him, keeping him aloft.

“This is Themyscira?” Bruce asked skeptically.

“It’s protected by Zeus’s enchantment,” Kathoom explained. “No outside detection methods can locate it.”

“But Zeus overlooked something: he didn’t ban entry.”

If someone knew the island’s location, even a simple boat could cross the barrier.

“Hermione’s protections in her seventh year were more thorough than this,” Bruce muttered.

“We can’t just waltz in,” Bruce pointed out. “Islanders like the Amazons are probably closed off to outsiders.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Kathoom replied. “But a wounded, helpless boy? They’d never leave him to die.”

“What wounded boy?” Bruce asked suspiciously.

“This one!” Kathoom cackled, balling his wings into a fist and punching Bruce.

The blow sent Bruce plummeting like a meteor into the sea.

As he fell, Bruce felt his body numbing, phantom wounds spreading across his skin.

It didn’t hurt, but his face swelled, his vision narrowing to a slit.

When he passed a certain altitude, the scenery abruptly shifted.

An island appeared, adorned with stone architecture resembling a classical city-state.

Bruce barely had time to process the sight before crashing into the water.

Bubbles swirled around him as he sank, the sea cutting him off from the world above.

Suspended in the water, Bruce felt weightless, the waves lapping against his ears.

“Damn owl,” Bruce muttered, understanding Kathoom’s confidence.

The Hellbat armor on his body could activate with a single thought, granting him survival capabilities even in the deep sea.

But that was a last resort.

For now, he let himself sink, the shimmering surface of the water above filling his eyes until a face appeared—a stunningly beautiful young woman smiling down at him.

The girl gestured for him not to be afraid.

Bruce tried to speak, but the instinctive panic of drowning took over. Flailing, he grabbed at the girl’s arm.

In one fluid motion, she twisted free, grabbed his collar, and began swimming powerfully toward the shore.

As Bruce drifted into unconsciousness, he heard a faint voice in his mind—Zur-En-Arrh, screaming to take control.

“Get lost!” Bruce mentally shouted back.

—

The Shore of Themyscira.

“Cough! Cough!”

Bruce heaved seawater from his lungs, coughing violently.

He lay on the beach, waves gently lapping at the sand.

The girl knelt beside him, studying him with open curiosity.

Her unabashed gaze made Bruce feel self-conscious.

“You’re a man?” she asked.

“No, I’m not!” Bruce rasped. “I’m just a boy.”

“You passed out,” she said, leaning closer. “I thought you might not wake up.”

Bruce flinched away awkwardly.

“You’re injured,” she said, her fingers brushing a wound on his arm.

It was then Bruce noticed that while the girl looked youthful, her presence exuded maturity, tempered by a hint of innocent wonder.

“I’m Diana,” she said, her voice gentle. “What’s your name?”

“I’m…” Bruce began, but his words were cut off by a stern shout from the cliffs.

“Diana!”

Bruce turned to see a group of Amazon warriors in gladiatorial armor standing atop the ridge, bows drawn and arrows aimed directly at him.

“Mother!” Diana waved enthusiastically. “Look! I found a man!”

“Step away, Diana!”

The Amazon queen, Hippolyta, gestured sharply, and warriors rappelled down the cliffs with spears in hand, surrounding Bruce.

“I—” Bruce started to explain, but Kathoom’s voice interrupted him.

“Don’t resist,” Kathoom advised. “They won’t hurt you. They’ll just tie you up.”

“Tie me up?” Bruce growled. “That’s humiliating!”

“Life’s unfair,” Kathoom quipped. “If you can’t fight it, embrace it.”

Bruce had no time to argue as glowing ropes bound him and he was hauled to an open-air dais.

—

Hippolyta sat at the head of the gathering, scrutinizing Bruce coldly.

Diana pleaded on his behalf.

“Quiet, Diana!” Hippolyta snapped. “I swear you’ve never seen a man before. This one is hideous!”

Kathoom’s transfiguration spell had left Bruce’s face swollen and comically distorted.

“He’s hurt, Mother!” Diana insisted.

“That’s not our concern,” Hippolyta retorted before addressing Bruce directly.

“Who are you? Where do you come from? What is your purpose here?”

Bruce opened his mouth to fabricate a story but winced as the rope around him burned like fire.

“I’m Bruce Wayne!” he blurted, startled.

“What is this?” he asked, glancing down at the glowing rope.

“The Lasso of Truth,” Hippolyta said coolly. “It compels honesty. Answer me, boy—who are you, and why are you here?”

Bruce’s mind raced. The lasso only demanded truth—it didn’t require him to tell the whole truth.

“I’m Bruce Wayne, an orphan,” he said carefully. “A wizard from a place called Hogwarts.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude—a damn owl knocked me out of the sky!”

An owl?

The Amazons exchanged uneasy glances.

Hippolyta’s expression tightened.

An owl—the symbol of Athena.

“We must find that owl,” Antiope, the queen’s sister, said. “It could bring ruin to Themyscira!”

“Yes!” Bruce added loudly. “Capture the owl! Tie him up and punish him severely!”

He couldn’t hide his satisfaction at the thought.

Hippolyta’s stern expression softened slightly.

This boy seemed less threatening, more pitiable—a victim of a troublesome owl.

“Child,” Hippolyta said, her tone gentler. “I don’t know this Hogwarts, but why were you near our island?”

“Because…” Bruce began, forced to tell the truth.

“My school was destroyed by someone named Ares!

“He created a successor with the body of a god, and I have no way to kill him!”

Gasps rippled through the Amazons.

“Ares?”

Hippolyta’s demeanor shifted, her focus now entirely on the mention of their ancient foe.

“Explain,” she commanded. “Ares—he appeared at your school?”

“Yes!” Bruce said. “I can’t kill him, so I’ve been searching for a way. The owl brought me here, but then it betrayed me!”

“Mother!” Diana’s voice was urgent.

“The prophecy is coming true!”

“Ares has returned to bring war to humanity!”

Bruce nodded grimly. “The world is a powder keg. War is about to explode!”

“War?” Hippolyta frowned. “What war?”

“World War I!” Bruce exclaimed.

The dais fell silent.

Hippolyta’s voice, laced with disbelief, broke the quiet.

“Bruce… explain to me—

“What do you mean by ‘World War One?’”

—

This is a fan translation of 蝙蝠侠的猫头鹰教父 by 巴巴罗萨光年. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!