The Long Easter (End)

"My father was a tyrant, a dictator who allowed no one to question him. I went to every length to meet his demands and become the perfect heir, yet he still guarded against me and refused to tell me anything."

"I knew perfectly well that his rule over Gotham’s underworld for so many years wasn’t based solely on his ability and intelligence. I knew…"

"He wasn’t the true King of Gotham. Someone else controlled Gotham from the shadows—a mysterious organization, a great organization…"

Batman watched Alberto in silence. The muscles in Alberto’s face had shifted completely, making him look like a stranger Batman had never seen before. His tone as he recounted these events carried resentment and indignation, emotions Batman had never heard in Evans’s voice.

"But according to Evans, the Godfather wasn’t like that."

"Him? What did he know? Yes… he was Carmine’s perfect son. Carmine created him only because he thought I wasn’t perfect enough…"

"So what exactly happened with your death?"

Alberto gave a cold snort and glanced down. There seemed to be no response from within the crack in the church that he wanted, so, as though passing the time, he said to Batman, "I accidentally learned that Gotham was a city beyond saving. Those who didn’t belong here would eventually leave."

"It was all because of a great organization controlling Gotham from the shadows. They controlled this city and made it turn according to their will."

"The Godfather? He was nothing more than a survivor barely clinging to life. He never ruled Gotham. He lost in his struggle against that force, and only because that mysterious organization spared him could he become the Godfather."

"During an argument with him, he accidentally revealed clues about that organization. I investigated in secret and found nothing, but I accidentally came into contact with their followers."

"That was a great Dark Force unlike anything I had ever seen…" Fanaticism began to seep into Alberto’s voice. "Its wings have always sheltered this city. We will all kneel before Him…"

"So you joined that organization?"

"No, no…" Alberto said nervously. "They wouldn’t allow me to join. I didn’t understand…"

Amid his frantic muttering, Batman seemed to see a flock of black night owls standing behind him. They snickered and whispered in Alberto’s ear, "You are the descendant of rebels… You must atone, atone for your bloodline… Go, go…"

Alberto dropped to one knee again, his entire body beginning to tremble. His voice became indistinct, filled with both resentment and fear. "They gave me a knife, a hard, sharp knife. I used it to stab…"

Alberto’s tone grew pained, as though everything he described differed from his own memories.

"You wanted to kill your father?" Batman asked.

"No, I didn’t… I only wanted to atone. I wanted to…"

"You wanted to kill him. But in the end, you failed, didn’t you?"

Alberto’s voice once again filled with unwillingness and hatred. "Carmine had clearly been on guard against me for a long time. I acted too late!"

"Then he killed you and created Evans?"

"Not him. It was that…" Alberto paused, then said with some difficulty, "That priest. They were in it together. They knew everything…"

"So it really was a farce. Falcone’s eldest son never died. He merely changed identities."

"But I find it strange. How could this have been kept from everyone? You looked exactly alike and were the same age. Someone should have recognized you."

But the moment he said it, Batman realized. "That funeral?"

"…That’s right. Carmine invited everyone who had seen me in person to attend my funeral. Then they all died, including little Cobblepot’s father."

"It had nothing to do with the umbrellas?" Batman muttered.

Alberto sneered. "Looks like you know quite a lot."

"It had everything to do with the umbrellas. Did you think Carmine knew nothing about them? You were wrong… No one understood them better than the Godfather, but he never spoke of it."

"Carmine exploited a loophole. He tampered with the materials for a batch of umbrellas, ensuring the umbrella makers couldn’t deliver on time. Then, on a rainy day, he summoned them all there, and they all died."

"He claimed that idiot was my younger brother, who had lived overseas with our mother since childhood. So he replaced me and became the Godfather’s youngest son."

"For a long time, I truly was dead. Only Evans existed."

"He became a devout believer and often went to church to pray, but he didn’t know that Carmine had arranged it precisely to make me disappear completely."

"That priest possessed strength beyond that of ordinary people. I didn’t know what it was… but he truly seemed capable of influencing people’s minds."

"Every time Evans came into contact with him, his personality became more stable, while Alberto slowly faded away."

"But fortunately…" Alberto smiled. "During this disaster, the church was damaged. That priest had to leave, and Evans hadn’t prayed to him for a long time."

"So you came back to life?"

"At first, I couldn’t control this body on my own. I had only vague consciousness. But I was this body’s true master, and soon enough, I could control it whenever Evans fell asleep."

"I had things to do. To keep others from discovering me, I found a way to control Sheldon."

"But in the end, you killed him. Why?"

"He was a selfish fool, short-sighted and concerned only with immediate gains. I originally planned to use his position to gather Gotham University students at the Easter banquet, then create an Easter egg bombing. Those special eggs were all prepared for those students."

"But that foolish president thought it would damage his reputation. He didn’t use the eggs I gave him, so I had to find another way—send them to grocery stores to be sold, or give them to gang bosses."

"Why did you do this? Just to cause some trouble?"

"I was conducting an experiment."

Alberto’s answer took Batman by surprise, but he instinctively thought of a question. "What exactly was the substance in those Easter eggs that drove people mad?"

"The Immortality Factor."

"Immortality… what?"

"It’s something that can grant people immortality, make them never die. Do you understand?"

Batman said nothing for a moment. He looked at Alberto as though looking at an idiot. Alberto sensed his gaze and snapped in embarrassment, "You don’t understand at all!! This is what that great force depends on to survive! I investigated for a long time…"

He took a deep breath, then seemed to calm down. "My contact with them wasn’t without results. I learned that the thing they relied on to cultivate those powerful Assassins was something called ‘Fine Wine.’"

"’Fine Wine’? What is that?"

"According to their records, this factor has properties like wine. It can make people deliriously intoxicated, and it can also grant immortality."

"They used this factor to create powerful Assassins, and I firmly believe this is its greatness—His gift and reward to humanity. And I, I will receive that reward…"

"Give up those bizarre and absurd theories. Nothing in this world can make people immortal."

Alberto revealed a mad smile and turned his gaze toward the crack in the center of the cathedral. A dim green glow shimmered there. "Thank that priest. Thank that idiot named Evans. I noticed something different about the church…"

Batman looked there as well. "Don’t tell me this thing is beneath the church."

"After the church was damaged, this precious Fine Wine seeped out from the crack. I collected some. According to that mysterious organization’s records, Fine Wine must mature before it can be consumed, but I didn’t know how long it took to mature."

"To find the answer, I had to conduct an experiment. I diluted it, turned it into a spray, and put it into Easter eggs."

"Unaged Fine Wine drives people mad, but it doesn’t matter… I got the answer I wanted."

Alberto took a deep breath, knelt beside the crack, and pressed himself close to it, staring fixedly at the light within. "Fine Wine needs fermentation and aging. Tonight, it will mature. As long as I can obtain the purest Fine Wine, I can become immortal…"

Then he raised his head toward the crucifix at the front of the church and said in a trembling voice, "Like Jesus, I will be resurrected on this night and return to heaven, becoming a god. Those who made me suffer will pay the price…"

"Stop dreaming." Batman’s icy voice interrupted Alberto’s fantasy. "First, I think this so-called Fine Wine is a scam. Second, I won’t give you the chance to obtain it."

"You can’t stop me!" Alberto saw the green light growing brighter beneath the increasingly brilliant moonlight. A rich scent of alcohol spread through the air, like some fruit beginning to ripen.

He lunged forward like a madman, trying to leap into the crack.

A gunshot struck his shoulder first, and the recoil sent Alberto falling backward. Then two darts struck his knees, robbing him of the ability to move.

Alberto lay on the ground as though subdued, but Batman still cautiously refrained from approaching directly. Instead, he circled around the crack to Alberto’s rear and moved closer from behind.

Just as he was about to reach Alberto, he saw a triumphant smile emerge from the shadow cast by Alberto’s hair.

Batman retreated instantly. A violent explosion thundered beneath Alberto. In an instant, the church floor shattered, and the long crack was blasted into a massive hole. Amid the flying dust, every inch of the church floor vanished.

Batman stood at the edge of the collapse and looked down. Beneath the church was now a vast swimming pool filled with an unknown green liquid. It emitted a faint glow and smelled like strong liquor. Even inhaling a little made him feel dizzy.

Batman stepped back several paces and shook his head. Only after a cold gust swept past did he feel slightly better.

After the previous fire, Batman had added a gas mask to his cowl. He pulled down the faceplate to cover his mouth and nose, then stepped forward and looked down into the green pool.

He couldn’t see Alberto, but Batman remembered that during the explosion, Alberto had fallen along with the collapsing church floor. He should have fallen into this green pool.

The liquid was too strange for Batman to handle rashly, and he didn’t have the proper salvage equipment. Just as he turned to leave and prepare some tools, he heard bubbling sounds behind him.

Batman turned back and saw a series of bubbles rising to the surface of the faintly glowing green pool, as though something hidden beneath it was breathing out.

Then, a deathly pale hand reached up from the edge of the pool. Gotham’s cold moonlight shone on the back of his hand, its joints and veins protruding like those of a dried corpse preserved for years.

The moonlight grew brighter, the wind gentler, and the air around the cathedral froze into ice. In that congealed atmosphere, the crucifix damaged by the explosion suddenly crashed down and shattered into several pieces.

During this long Easter, Jesus did not rise again. He died completely.

In his place rose, amid madness, Gotham’s eternal nightmare—

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

That’s ten thousand words for today! Please vote and support!

Aha! Didn’t see that coming, did you!

(Some people did, but not completely. Hehe.)