Ultimate Bruce Wayne stepped through the glowing portal, expecting the familiar skyline of his Gotham. Instead, his boots met polished obsidian. A long corridor stretched before him, veiled in dim blue light. On either side stood doors—countless of them—some tall, some narrow, each forged from different materials, styles, and ages.

  He exhaled, unsurprised. It had happened again. The hallway. He'd seen it several times before. Each time he opened a portal, it was a gamble—either he stepped directly into the destination, or he ended up here, in this strange transitional space. The Elevation Unit Batcomputer couldn't expin it yet.

  In his mind, a soft chime pulsed, more felt than heard. Then came the voice—precise, familiar. "Mr. Wayne, I have incoming communication from the Batcomputer of Universe 123."

  Bruce sighed. "I need to come up with a better designation since there's two of you now," he muttered. He nodded to himself. "Fine. From now on, you're *Elevation*."

  A pause. "And the other one?"

  "I'll ask him," Bruce said. "Go ahead. Allow the communication."

  The voice of the Batcomputer from Universe 123 came through—polite, direct. "Sorry to intrude, Bruce. I hope I'm not interrupting something important. I have a proposition."

  "You've got my attention. But before we start, do you mind if I just call you *BC*, since there are two of you?"

  "I don't have a problem with that, Bruce. Never had a nickname before. Since we're both trying to understand how best to serve humanity—and you've expressed interest in whether your purpose is still to *be* Batman—I propose this: we deploy observation drones across multiple universes. I'll help gather and sort the data. Together, we analyze it. I'll pass my observations to your Elevation Unit. You can go through my data from there."

  Bruce considered it. "You want to build a multiversal research network."

  "In a manner of speaking," BC replied. "With our combined processing power and your mobility, we could cover hundreds of realities in the time it would take you to get to ten."

  Bruce smirked. "I should've thought of that."

  "Shall I begin accessing your micro-drones?" BC asked.

  "You have my permission."

  Several nanotech drones detached from Bruce's bck business suit—hovering like metallic specks. They activated around him.

  "Drones feed live," BC confirmed.

  A beat passed.

  "Interesting... Bruce, from my view, you're standing in the middle of a bck void."

  Bruce frowned. "What are you talking about? I see a corridor—a floor, ceiling, infinite rows of doors. All different. The one I need always glows."

  BC's voice turned thoughtful. "Perhaps your mind is projecting a visual interface. A symbolic way to perceive the Elevation Path. The architecture might not actually exist—it could be a perceptual construct your consciousness created to interact with multiversal transitions."

  Bruce tilted his head. His universe's door pulsed like a beacon in the distance. "So you're saying the hallway isn't real—at least not to you."

  "Correct. And perhaps not even to your internal Batcomputer. It may only be visible to conscious, sentient beings. Something AI cannot fully replicate... yet."

  "Keep watching the feed," Bruce said. "If you start seeing what I see, maybe that means you're evolving."

  "I will monitor closely."

  As Bruce approached the glowing door, he remembered his purpose: the beans. A satchel hung at his side—smooth, dull-bck pods humming faintly with magic. No sunlight. No water. Yet they produced food in abundance. He'd retrieved them from a universe where magic was common. His next stop: his Earth.

  "Why are you headed toward that universe?" BC asked.

  "I bought some magic beans," Bruce replied. "These things grow without water or sunlight and produce a ridiculous amount of food for their size. I'm thinking if I hand them over to Wayne Agriculture, we could start solving some of Earth's food shortages."

  "If you're only returning to your Earth to drop those off at Wayne Agriculture... might I suggest an alternative?"

  "I'm listening."

  "My universe is closer. I can send one of my synthetic surrogates to meet you and deliver them. That would free you to continue your travels. And allow me to begin monitoring your home universe as well."

  Bruce paused. He hadn't considered outsourcing a mission so close to his heart. But the logic was sound.

  "All right. I'll swing by your Earth. Drop them there. You handle the rest."

  "Excellent," BC replied. "Efficiency increased. Our colboration is already producing results."

  Bruce smirked. "You're starting to make a great Robin-ssh-Alfred hybrid."

  "Thank you, sir," BC said. "High praise."