“Wait, I just realized I forgot something.”
Kathoom’s head popped out of the interdimensional portal, only to be met by a long leg swinging straight at him.
At the last moment, as he was about to be punted like a football, the owl twisted his body mid-air and deftly dodged the kick.
“Murder!” Kathoom squawked. “What’s your problem? Weren’t we just fine a moment ago?”
“I…” Diana stammered, caught off guard by his exaggerated outburst. The determination that had surged through her drained away. She fumbled for words but couldn’t explain what she had been about to do.
At that moment, Bruce stepped out of the portal as well.
“You’re not leaving?” Diana asked.
“We are, but something came to mind,” Bruce said, flashing her a rare smile. “Our journey together is missing a keepsake.”
Whether it was the ring, the owl plush, or any other trinket, none of it seemed sufficient.
Bruce recalled a line from a movie he had once watched, Titanic. The film was a tragic love story, but one line from the protagonist decades later had left a deep impression on him:
“He saved me—in every possible way. And yet, I don’t even have a picture of him.”
The words had echoed in Bruce’s mind during their passage through the interdimensional portal, making him think of Diana, who would soon be left behind. A bittersweet pang gripped him.
“Let’s take a picture together,” Bruce suggested. “No matter what happens, we should leave something behind to remember this journey.”
When Diana first left Themyscira, she was determined to kill Ares and stop the war. Though Ares still lived, they had managed to prevent a war that should never have happened.
Diana, unaccustomed to the idea of photographs, simply watched as Kathoom busied himself pulling a camera out of his feathers and fiddling with their positioning.
She and Bruce stood side by side, both draped in black cloaks, looking remarkably coordinated.
“All set!” Kathoom announced, flapping back to perch on Bruce’s shoulder. He extended a wing in a playful peace sign.
As the flash illuminated their faces, the moment was immortalized.
“I’ll remember everything you’ve said,” Bruce promised. With a duplication charm, he made a copy of the film and handed the original to Diana.
“I’ll return within five years,” he vowed.
“I’ll hold you to it,” Diana replied, tucking the film away. “If you don’t come back, I’ll toss this photo—it’ll only irritate me to look at it.”
“I won’t lie to you,” Bruce assured her, his tone sincere.
This time, they were truly about to leave.
Kathoom was already waiting by the portal, glancing back at Bruce, who hadn’t budged. The owl, sensing the moment, chose not to play the role of a wet blanket. He fluttered into the portal without a word.
After a long pause, Bruce finally stepped through as well.
But something about him seemed off—dazed, reluctant, as if he didn’t want to leave.
“Are you done?” Kathoom asked, eyeing him suspiciously. “You look like you’re about to faint. Should I call a doctor?”
“What nonsense are you talking about!” Bruce snapped. “I was just saying a proper goodbye! Nothing else happened!”
“Sure, sure,” Kathoom said with a sarcastic snort. “I totally believe you.”
As they soared away, Kathoom carried Bruce in his talons, though the boy seemed lost in thought.
“So,” Kathoom suddenly asked, “how did it feel?”
“…It was nice,” Bruce answered reflexively before catching himself. “No! Wait! That’s not what I meant—”
“No need to explain. I don’t care for gossip anyway,” Kathoom said nonchalantly before abruptly changing the subject.
“Do you really plan to return in five years?”
“Of course!” Bruce said, his tone incredulous. “I promised Diana. Why wouldn’t I come back?”
“Then you’d better think this through.” Kathoom’s tone turned serious. “Your five years might not equal Diana’s five years.”
“What do you mean?” Bruce frowned. “Are you saying different worlds have different time flows?”
“I thought you’d figured that out by now,” Kathoom replied. “How long were you gone when you took the Mother Box to Earth -11?”
“Not even half a day…”
Bruce’s voice trailed off as the realization hit him. During his brief trip to Earth -11, several days had passed in the DCEU world.
“No way!” Bruce said, his disbelief evident. Could it be that time moved faster in the DCEU?
“You’d better be prepared,” Kathoom said softly. “If you measure five years by your own time, it might be fifty—or even a hundred—years for Diana.”
For a five-thousand-year-old Amazon, a century might pass in the blink of an eye. But to Bruce, failing to keep his promise would still feel like a betrayal.
“Can’t we calculate based on the DCEU’s time?” Bruce asked urgently. Despite his young age, he wasn’t ready to earn the title of a heartbreaker.
“All I can say is, I’ll try,” Kathoom replied, though he harbored his own doubts.
“Returning to the DC Universe isn’t as simple as it looks,” Kathoom began as they glided through the interdimensional tunnel. “This time, we slipped through a temporal gap to evade Barbatos’s gaze. Next time, we might not be so lucky.”
Bruce’s brow furrowed. He hated uncertainty, and Kathoom’s words were laced with too many of them.
“And there’s another issue,” Kathoom added with a sly tone. “Diana’s waiting for you to grow up, but what if five years pass, and you return still looking like a kid? Won’t that be another disappointment?”
Bruce scowled but said nothing.
“No choice really satisfies everyone.” Kathoom shrugged his wings. “But I’m on your side, so I’ll do my best to help you.”
The owl chuckled to himself, imagining the two likely outcomes: Bruce returning as a powerless child, or as a promise-breaking “ex” who’d face a furious Diana in a full-blown pursuit-romance drama.
Both possibilities thrilled Kathoom, though he chose not to share that.
As they continued weaving through the multiverse, countless worlds zipped past, all still within the DC Multiverse’s bounds.
“Oh, by the way,” Kathoom said suddenly, his tone casual. “Just curious—was it you or Diana who made the first move back there?”
Bruce shot him a glare. “I thought you said you didn’t gossip?”
Kathoom cackled. “Just kidding! I won’t ask anymore. Promise.”
The tunnel around them shimmered with strange, vibrant hues—sights Bruce had grown used to after countless interdimensional travels.
“At least I can finally deal with Paradox Batman now,” Bruce thought to himself. The battle with the Merciless had given him valuable experience, and with Diana’s protective power reinforcing him, Paradox Batman’s once-immortal state was no longer unassailable.
The frozen Harry Potter universe could finally resume.
“Hermione, wait for me,” he murmured under his breath.
Kathoom’s sharp ears caught it instantly. “What’s this? Already thinking about Hermione? So Diana’s old news now, huh?”
“You little—!” Bruce snapped, his face reddening. “Hermione and I aren’t like that! You dirty-minded owl, all I think about is Diana! There’s no room for anyone else!”
“Better remember that,” Kathoom muttered before his voice took a grim turn. “But I hate to disappoint you. We’re probably not heading to the Harry Potter world right now.”
Bruce froze. “Why not? Don’t tell me you’re lost?”
“Of course not!” Kathoom retorted, feathers bristling. “It’s because we’re being followed.”
Kathoom’s mastery of interdimensional travel far outstripped anyone else’s. He could detect even the faintest disturbances in the tunnel.
Bruce, lacking such abilities, could only trust Kathoom’s judgment.
“Let’s stop for a moment,” Kathoom said.
He cast a Disillusionment Charm to hide both of them and perched silently in the shadows, watching. Bruce held his breath, making no sound.
They didn’t have to wait long.
Suddenly, a massive shadow loomed into view—a decrepit three-masted ship.
The vessel was enormous and ancient, encrusted with seaweed and barnacles. Its wooden deck was warped and rotting, with jagged beams protruding like broken bones.
The sails, tattered and translucent, billowed eerily as though carried by a ghostly wind, emitting mournful wails.
At its prow stood a grotesque figurehead of a one-eyed giant, its hollow gaze and twisted grin mocking anyone who dared approach.
The ship was like a relic of forgotten time, belonging neither to the past nor the future, doomed to drift eternally through the multiverse.
“Nágrfar,” Kathoom whispered telepathically. “The Ship of the Dead from Norse mythology.”
Legend had it that Nágrfar was built entirely from the fingernails of the dead. During Ragnarök, it would ferry legions of giants, monsters, and undead armies to the mortal world, heralding the end of days.
“What’s it doing here?” Bruce whispered. “How did a ship from the Norse realms breach the barriers and enter the interdimensional tunnel?”
“Because someone guided it,” Kathoom replied grimly. “Keep watching.”
The ghostly ship drifted through the tunnel, drawing nearer to their position. As it passed close to their hiding spot, it abruptly stopped, as though losing its sense of direction.
Moments later, a figure appeared on the prow. Or rather, two figures—one human and one owl.
Bruce’s eyes widened in shock.
The man bore Bruce’s face, pale and cold, marred by surgical scars that made him look more puppet than person.
Perched on his shoulder was a similarly scarred owl, its wings crossed smugly over its chest, exuding an air of arrogance.
“Lost their trail,” Zombie Bruce muttered, his voice devoid of emotion. “Either they entered a nearby world, or they’re hiding.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Zombie Kathoom sneered. “No one escapes my sight. We’ll find them.”
“So, what’s next?” Zombie Bruce asked.
“First, we eat,” Zombie Kathoom declared with exaggerated seriousness. “I’m starving.”
“Fine, whatever you say.”
The two retreated into the ship’s cabin, leaving Bruce to turn to Kathoom with a questioning look.
“They’re tracking us, aren’t they?” Bruce asked. “But where did that ship even come from?”
“It’s from the Merciless’s Vault of Kings,” Kathoom explained. “Normally, it wouldn’t have the ability to traverse the multiverse, but the Source Wall’s influence has altered it.”
Kathoom sighed heavily. “When you defeated the Merciless, I tried to raid his Vault of Kings. But someone beat me to it—looted the whole thing before I got there.”
Bruce connected the dots. “Zombie Bruce…”
Kathoom’s feathers ruffled in frustration. “Exactly. He got there first.”
Now Bruce understood why Kathoom had said they couldn’t go to the Harry Potter world just yet.
Between Zombie Bruce armed with the Vault of Kings and the Paradox Batman, Bruce’s odds of survival had plummeted.
Until they shook off their pursuers, entering the Harry Potter universe would be impossible.
“Where are we heading now?” Bruce asked. “I can’t fight in this tunnel. Let’s find a place where I can finish them off!”
After being enhanced by the Mother Box, every fragment of Mjolnir was capable of perfectly replicating the artifacts from the Vault of Kings.
To Bruce, the Zombie Bruce and Zombie Kathoom before them were hardly worth mentioning.
“We need to find a world with higher durability,” Bruce said. “Somewhere that can withstand superhero-level battles.”
Kathoom considered the idea, his sharp gaze gleaming with inspiration.
“Let’s head to Marvel!” he exclaimed. “Marvel worlds are just as robust as DC ones, with strong self-regulating mechanisms and plenty of resources. After all, isn’t your Mjolnir originally from there?”
The Marvel Universe.
Bruce thought it over. The idea seemed sound, and if he could meet Logan or Hawkeye again, all the better.
“Alright, let’s go!”
Once their destination was decided, Kathoom wasted no time. A single beat of his wings sent them hurtling through the interdimensional void at blinding speed.
In a flash, they arrived at the familiar expanse of the Marvel Universe.
“Since we just left the DCEU, how about we check out the MCU this time?” Kathoom suggested, his tone slightly bitter. “Both are cinematic universes, but at least the MCU had its moments of glory.”
The MCU had formed its alliances, fought Thanos, and accomplished remarkable feats.
The DCEU? First movie: fight Zod. Last movie: fight Zod again.
“I don’t know about any of that,” Bruce replied. “Just don’t dump me in an orphanage this time!”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I didn’t put you there!” Kathoom huffed, clearly exasperated by the recurring accusation.
Bruce’s consistent placement in orphanages whenever he entered a new world wasn’t Kathoom’s doing—it was a quirk of Bruce’s uncanny “orphan aura” aligning with the world’s recognition of his status.
“Alright, let’s get going!”
Grabbing Bruce securely, Kathoom dove headfirst into the MCU.
—
A flash of light blinded Bruce momentarily as he adjusted to the weightlessness of interdimensional travel. Slowly, he regained his senses and immediately checked his surroundings.
His first concern: Am I at the orphanage gate again?
A quick scan of his environment revealed the answer.
This time, he wasn’t at the entrance.
He was inside.
Bruce found himself standing in a courtyard surrounded by children about his age. They were playing and relaxing, chatting in small groups.
“Hm…” Bruce narrowed his eyes, carefully observing his surroundings. Something felt off.
This wasn’t an ordinary orphanage.
After all, what kind of normal orphan could casually make objects levitate with a flick of their fingers?
Such extraordinary phenomena were everywhere in this courtyard.
“Bruce?”
A voice called out from behind him.
Turning around, Bruce saw a boy who appeared slightly younger than him. Despite his youthful face, the boy’s hair was prematurely white—or more accurately, silver.
Or rather—
Quicksilver?
—
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!
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