Chapter Two: Memory Bleed
He stood in line at a corner bodega, watching a guy argue over a scratched-off lottery ticket, when it hit him—a memory that wasn't his.
Rain slicked rooftops. A cape fluttered in the wind. A name whispered through the dark—Wayne.
Kane blinked. It was gone.
The guy behind the counter handed him his change, but he didn't move. The memory had felt real. Too sharp, too clear to be a dream. It wasn't something he lived—it was something he knew, like a fact buried in his brain that suddenly uncoiled itself.
Later that night, more came. Images. Moments. Not full scenes, but feelings.
Scarlet lightning. A scream. The crack of a whip. Green eyes glowing in the dark.
He knew these people. He shouldn't. But he did.
Back at the apartment, Kane dug through the pile of old comics a kid in the building had traded him for fixing his broken tablet. He flipped pages fast. Faster than he should've. Hands moving like they'd done this a thousand times.
He stopped on a panel.
Poison Ivy. Pamela Isley. Hair like wildfire. Skin like spring.
His stomach twisted.
He remembered her. Not just from the comic—like he'd met her before. He couldn't have, but something in him was certain. The collective consciousness? The phrase drifted into his head like smoke. He didn't know where it came from.
That night, he ran. Literally. Out of the apartment, down the stairs, across streets. No direction, just speed. He didn't get tired. The wind didn't touch him. He moved—like the world bent around him.
When he finally stopped, he was in Robinson Park. Quiet. Overgrown. Gotham's green lung.
The air smelled sweet, damp with life. The ground felt soft under his shoes.
A voice cut through the stillness.
"You're not supposed to be here."
He turned—and froze.
She stepped out of the shadows barefoot, vines curling around her ankles like pets. Green eyes, sharper than he remembered. Skin pale and flushed with red light from the park lamps.
Poison Ivy.
Not in costume. Just… her.
"Sorry," Kane said, breath catching. "Didn't mean to trespass."
"You're not trespassing," she said slowly, eyeing him. "You're radiating."
"Radiating?"
She walked closer. "The earth feels it. The plants twitch when you breathe. You're not normal."
He didn't know what to say. He was half-distracted by how insanely attractive she was, half-focused on the way the leaves behind her seemed to listen.
"I'm just… figuring things out," he said carefully.
"No one 'just' stumbles into this park and lights up the ground beneath them. Who are you?"
"I don't know yet."
She tilted her head. "That's honest."
Vines shifted around her legs, slow and fluid, like they were thinking.
He stepped back. "I didn't come looking for trouble."
"Good," she said. "Because I'm not in the mood."
A tense silence stretched. Then, unexpectedly, she relaxed. "You're not lying. That's rare here."
He nodded. "Been a weird couple weeks."
"First awakening?"
He blinked. "What?"
She smirked. "The look in your eyes. The sparks around your fingertips. The way the wind pulls toward you. You've barely scratched the surface."
Kane looked down. There was static dancing across his fingers—barely there, like threads of electricity.
She narrowed her eyes. "You're tapped into something. I don't know what. But it's deep. Old."
He didn't mean to say it, but the word slipped out. "Speed Force?"
Her face changed. Just slightly. A flicker of recognition, then wariness. "Where did you hear that?"
"I didn't. I… felt it."
Ivy stepped closer, curiosity overtaking caution. "You're not a speedster. But you're brushing it."
"I'm not anything. Not yet."
She studied him like a rare plant. "Then be careful. Gotham doesn't do 'not yet.' It chews up maybes and spits out bodies."
He nodded. He knew that already.
"You're not an enemy," she added, like she was reminding herself. "But you're not just a lost kid, either. Something's waking up inside you."
He didn't disagree.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Maybe I'm bored. Maybe I'm lonely. Maybe I know what it's like to wake up wrong."
The vines around her ankles withdrew. She turned away.
"Don't follow me."
"I wasn't going to."
"I'd know if you did."
She vanished into the trees like she was part of them.
Kane stood alone, the scent of flowers heavy in the air, fingertips humming with invisible threads of power.
He walked home slower. The city didn't seem as loud. But it felt heavier—like every building, every alley knew something he didn't.
That presence again. Watching. Not Ivy. Not any of the masked freaks or heroes.
Something bigger. Something above.
He didn't know what it wanted. But it had brought him here. Given him gifts. And now the world was starting to react—first the sparks, then the speed, and now her.
Whatever was coming, it had already started..
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