Chapter 12: Chapter 12
Private Eye tensed, he had scoured the internet for information on dangerous gangs or individuals who have either cemented themselves within Gotham City or have attempted to make noise within. Deathstroke was a top that list. "I'm not here to impress you, Deathstroke."
"And yet, you have." Deathstroke's eye gleamed with unsettling interest. "Raw power, enhanced abilities, and surprising tactical awareness. You're full of potential."
"What are you a kiddy diddler?" Private Eye said with dry sarcasm, acutely aware of Rose slowly getting to her feet behind him.
Deathstroke chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth. "Consider this an audition, boy. You've proven yourself a worthy opponent – or potentially, a valuable asset."
"I'm not interested in the family business of whoring out my abilities to the highest bidder" Private Eye spat.
"Perhaps not now," Deathstroke conceded, ignoring the snotty remarks. Which greatly unsettled Private Eye. "But let's see how you fare against a real challenge."
The attack came with blinding speed. One moment Deathstroke was standing still, the next his fist was inches from Private Eye's face. Only a desperate backward leap saved the young hero from a broken jaw.
Private Eye's spider-sense screamed constantly as he dodged and weaved. Deathstroke was on a whole different level – each move calculated, each strike potentially fatal. The assassin's enhanced strength and speed matched Private Eye's own abilities.
A kick caught Private Eye in the ribs, the impact lifting him off his feet. He crashed into an air conditioning unit, feeling something crack. Gasping for breath, he barely rolled away from a follow-up strike that left a dent in the metal where his head had been.
Private Eye shot a barrage of webs, trying to slow Deathstroke down. The assassin sliced through them with terrifying ease, producing a staff that crackled with electricity.
The fight became a brutal exchange of blows. Private Eye's enhanced strength allowed him to match Deathstroke's superhuman abilities, but the assassin's experience and skill were overwhelming. Each time Private Eye thought he had an opening, Deathstroke would counter with devastating precision.
Pain blossomed across Private Eye's body. His costume was torn in multiple places, blood seeping through the fabric. But with the pain came a surge of primal anger. The part of Abel that he usually kept carefully controlled – the brutality, the raw power – rose to the surface.
With a roar that surprised even himself, Private Eye unleashed a ferocious offensive. He moved with the speed and agility of a predator, his fists striking with bone-shattering force. Each punch connected with the precision of a sledgehammer, sending shockwaves through his opponent's body.
Deathstroke found himself momentarily on the defensive, caught off guard by the sudden and overwhelming change in tactics. Private Eye's raw strength was a brutal symphony, each blow landing with the intent to maim and destroy. He drove his fists into Deathstroke's armored chest, feeling the satisfying crunch of metal and bone beneath his relentless assault.
Blood sprayed from Deathstroke's mouth as Private Eye's fist collided with his jaw, the force of the blow snapping his head to the side. The assassin attempted to counter, but Private Eye's speed and fury were unstoppable. He grabbed Deathstroke's arm, twisting it with a savage yank that elicited a pained grunt from the hardened warrior.
With his free hand, Deathstroke wound up for one final slash. Private Eye weaved past the strike, but Deathstroke, with his exceptional combat prowess, seized the opening. He sent a powerful kick toward the masked vigilante, connecting solidly and sending Private Eye sliding backward. Now, there was considerable distance between the two.
"Enough," Deathstroke said, holding up a hand. "You proved my point, excellently."
Private Eye stood warily, every muscle screaming in protest. "What point?"
"That you're more than just another costumed fool," Deathstroke replied. "You have potential, boy. Real potential. With that comes enemies abroad, and close. Closer than you might think. Remember that."
With those cryptic words, Deathstroke hoisted Rose to her feet and vanished into the night. Private Eye sagged against a wall, exhaustion washing over him. As he caught his breath, the reality of the situation set in. He was powerful but clearly lacked the technical prowess and control he needed. He needed more. He needed to refine his skills, to sharpen his mind and body to a razor's edge.
As he swung home through the Gotham night, Abel's mind churned with conflicting emotions. The encounter with Deathstroke and Rose had shaken him, forcing him to push himself further than ever before. And tomorrow... tomorrow he would have to face Zoe and the consequences of his exposed secret.
Landing on the fire escape outside his bedroom window, Abel peeled off his mask. His phone buzzed insistently – multiple missed calls and messages from Zoe. With a heavy sigh, he opened the most recent text:
"We need to talk. Meet me at Riverfront Park tomorrow, 10 AM. Come alone. And Abel... I haven't told anyone. Yet."
'Was that a threat? Who does she thin-ugh whatever.' Abel collapsed onto his bed, the weight of his double life pressing down on him. As exhaustion pulled him towards sleep, one thought echoed in his mind: Tomorrow would change everything.
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The morning sun struggled to pierce Gotham's perpetual haze as Abel made his way to Riverfront Park. His body ached from the previous night's encounters, bruises hidden beneath a loose-fitting hoodie. The cut on his arm throbbed with each step, a constant reminder of the dangers he faced.
Riverfront Park was a small oasis of green in the urban sprawl, the murky waters of the Gotham River sluggishly flowing past. A few early joggers and dog walkers dotted the paths, but the park was relatively quiet. Abel spotted Zoe sitting on a bench near the water's edge, her blue hair a vibrant splash of color against the drab surroundings.
Taking a deep breath, Abel approached. Zoe looked up, her expression a mix of concern, curiosity, and something else he couldn't quite place.
"Hey," he said, voice rough from lack of sleep.
Zoe patted the bench beside her. "Sit down, Abel. We need to talk."
As Abel lowered himself onto the bench, trying not to wince, Zoe's eyes narrowed. "You're hurt," she said, not a question.
Abel shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. "It's nothing."
"Nothing?" Zoe's voice rose slightly. "Abel, I saw you take down two armed men like it was nothing. And now you're moving like an old man. What happened last night?"
Abel sighed, rubbing his temples. "It's... complicated, Zoe."
"Then uncomplicate it for me," she insisted. "How long have you been... Private Eye?"
The name hung in the air between them. Abel looked out over the river, gathering his thoughts. "A few months," he finally said. "Since that field trip in Metropolis." Abel decided to be as vague as possible.
Zoe's eyes widened. "The spider bite? That's what gave you these... abilities?"
Abel nodded. "Yeah," he decided not to get specific, again. You never know who's listening.
"And you decided to use these powers to become a vigilante?" Zoe's tone was incredulous. "Abel, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"
"Of course I do," Abel snapped, his patience wearing thin. "But you don't understand, Zoe. With these abilities... I have a responsibility to help people."
Zoe leaned back, studying him. "And what about your dad? Does Commissioner Gordon know his son is running around in a mask?"
Abel flinched. "Stop saying that out loud..." Rubbing his temple, with a deep sigh he replied. "No. And he can't know. None of them can."
"Why not?" Zoe pressed. "Abel, you're just a kid. You shouldn't be doing this alone."
"I'm not a kid," Abel retorted, heat creeping into his voice. "And I'm not alone. I have... allies."
Zoe's eyebrows shot up. "Allies? You mean like Batman?"
Abel hesitated but ignored the foundation of her question. "Look, Zoe, I know this is a lot to take in. But I need you to understand that what I do as Private Eye is important. I'm making a difference in this city."
Zoe was quiet for a long moment, her fingers absently tracing patterns on the bench. When she spoke again, her voice was softer. "I get it, Abel. I do. But... it's dangerous. You could get hurt, or worse."
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone