I've been keeping busy.

A few weeks ago, Wayne Enterprises unveiled research on a new form of alternative energy. Derived from kryptonite altered at the molecular level by a particle accelerator. Bruce invited me for a visit in my guise as Clark Kent and during the demonstration, Metallo attacked. During the battle, the accelerator struck Metallo's kryptonite heart, turning it red. The altered kryptonite had a unique effect on me, increasing my brain and granting me some new, albeit temporary, powers.

My new powers accidentally teleported the kryptonite. Where it was transported to, I have no idea.

Bruce told me the energy experiments were just a front. Secretly, he was trying to find a way to make me immune to kryptonite. But now, we have several forms of mutated kryptonite scattered around the globe and we have to try and find them. Bruce told me he would keep me posted and ever since, I've been trying to keep busy.

Luthor's trial is coming up and after the conversation Lois and I had in the Red Room at the Fortress of Solitude, I've been given plenty to occupy my time. But once Bruce left a message telling me to come to Gotham, I flew faster than a speeding bullet to make the short flight from Metropolis. Now, the kryptonite has been pushed to the forefront of my mind once again. 

I hope Bruce has some sort of solution, or at least an idea of where to proceed from here. Even though I've tried not to think about the kryptonite, it's still found ways to seep into my daily thoughts. 

The gothic architecture of Gotham is a blur beneath me. Even in daylight, the city seems ominous and threatening. Flying through Gotham always unnerves me a bit, something I can't quite explain. Being around Bruce sometimes unnerves me. There's a darkness in both Gotham and in Bruce that I don't quite understand and I don't think I ever will understand.

And that scares me just a little.

The city begins to rescind. The houses are more scattered out here. Although I'm traveling at superhuman speeds, for me everything seems to move as normal. I see the gates of Wayne Manor ahead and I lean towards the right before arcing down the hill Bruce's ancestoral home sits on. At the base of the hill are woods that I curve through and I fly past the waterfall. As I approach, a massive door on the edge of the hill opens and I fly through, a metal path laid out beneath me. 

I slow down once I exit the tunnel and come into a large opening in the cave. Ageless rocks combined with modern technology. A sleek, black car sits before the tunnel. Over on one side is a giant penny and a robot dinosaur among other trophies. A glass case with a red, yellow and green uniform hanging. At one end is where Bruce sits, dressed in the suit of the Batman, his cowl hanging from his neck. Before him is a massive Cray computer.

"You're late," he says.

"You called me fifteen minutes ago," I tell him.

"I know, but you can make the trip in five." He doesn't even look away from the computer, his fingers like a blur across the keyboard.

"Caught a robbery in progress before I left Metropolis, had to intervene," I say.

"Hrm."

"Did you find anything?"

"I have a lead," he says and now he turns his chair and stands. As he walks, his cape drags on the ground behind him. "But before we get to that, I have something to show you."

I follow Bruce to the miniature lab he has set up in the Batcave. He picks up a vial filled with a gold liquid of some kind and shakes it.

"What's that?" I ask.

"I've been working on this serum," he says. "I still had the fragment of gold kryptonite I experimented with on your DNA sample. With it, I was able to synthesize a compound that, while it's in your system, resists the effects of gold kryptonite. In other words, as long as this is in your system, you won't be permanently altered by the gold kryptonite."

He holds it out to me and I hesitantly reach and take it from him. "Does it make me immune to the kryptonite?"

Bruce shakes his head. "No. All it does is make the effects temporary."

I look at the vial and think of Lois, then chuckle a little. It doesn't escape Bruce's vigilant senses. "What's so funny?" he asks.

"Nothing, just thinking," I say. "Could be a nice alternative to the Red Room."

Bruce doesn't press me for any further explanation and I don't blame him. Instead, he walks past me, back to the Cray computer. Lately, there's something off about Bruce. He's distant. Well... more distant than usual. I follow him and stand behind his chair, watching the monitor. On the screen is YouTube.

"Never took you for a web video junkie," I say.

"This was posted yesterday," he says and clicks on the play button. It's a homemade video of a teenager or college student dressed in a very gaudy costume. He stands in the middle of an empty street and dances. The cameraman's voice can be heard, saying, "here it comes..." and I can faintly hear the sound of a car speeding. The sound grows louder and the car slams into the young man. "HOLY SHIT!" is what the cameraman says.

"What is this?" I ask.

"Just watch."

"Oh damn... is he okay? Where is he...wait... what's happening?"

I ask myself the same question. I watch as the young man bounces back into frame like a rubber ball. He bounces several times on the street before he lands on his feet.

"Daaaaaaaamn, did you see that?!"

The video ends.

"That's our lead," says Bruce, pointing at the screen.

"How do we know it's a result of the kryptonite?" I ask. "He could just be a metahuman."

"Already looked into that possibility." His fingers dance across the keyboard and a small, white box appears on the video. That portion within the box enlarges, filling up the screen. Bruce strikes a few more keys and the image enhances. There's a silver glint there, but I can't make it out without my telescopic vision. Bruce enhances the picture further and I can see the silver quite clearly. It looks like a rock. 

"Silver kryptonite," he says.

"Do we know where this guy is from?"

"His profile reads Queens," he says. "Once I get to that area, I can track him easier by the radiation he emits."

"Radiation?" I ask.

"The kryptonite isn't stable, Clark."

	The Man of Steel and The Dark Knight Detective... FIFTEEN MINUTES
World's Finest #2 - February, Year Five	by Stephen Crosby and Dino Pollard

The Batplane tears through the clouds of Gotham as Wayne Manor retreats into the far background. Superman pulls right alongside my wing, his cape catching the wind currents as he coasts alongside. I activate the Batplane's exterior speaker, tuning it to a frequency only he can hear.

"You can go back to Metropolis, I can handle this."

"That's okay," he says. A screened microphone picks up his words and transmits them into my headset. "I'd rather stay onhand."

"The serum might prevent the effects of gold kryptonite, but we don't yet know how the rest of the kryptonite will alter your physiology," I tell him. "We don't want another repeat of what happened at Wayne Enterprises."

I can sense Superman's feelings. He doesn't want to be a liability in this search. Because this is kryptonite, fragments of his homeworld, he feels responsible and he doesn't want me--or anyone, for that matter--cleaning up his messes. What he can't seem to realize is this is my mess. I created this kryptonite, I unveiled it before I completely understood the ramifications, and that makes me responsible. 

I have to take care of this myself. Especially since I don't know what will happen to Clark. I don't want him to suffer or become permanently altered as a direct result of my actions.All I can do now is focus on the rebuilding and get this overwith as soon as possible.

I push forward, soaring through the sky. As the navigation systems tell me I'm approaching our goal, I descend. Clark starts to follow, but I give him pause.

"Stay out of sight for now," I say. "It's better if you let me handle this."

"First sign of trouble, I'm coming in," he says. 

"I wouldn't expect anything less of you."

The geiger counter begins to pick up heightened levels of radiation. Soon, I see the source. The young man from the video, standing on the roof of a building. He leaps and falls towards the ground, at least twelve stories. The instant he strikes the pavement, he bounces, flying right back up. The kryptonite has transformed his skin into a very dense form of rubber.

I switch on the Batplane's autopilot and open the canopy. Climbing onto the wing, I take a leap, diving down towards the city. I hold the cape out, my gloves sending a light electric current through the heavy fabric. The cape becomes rigid, turning into a glider and I swoop and glide down. I deactivate the current and land at the ground, slowly rising, the cape draped over my body. 

"Whoa, this is so cool," says the boy. "You hear to ask me to join the Justice League or something?"

I offer no response, just focus my eyes on him through the opaque lens of my mask. 

"C'mon man, I'm all for it!" he says. "I think I can call myself Rubberman or something, whaddaya think?"

"I think you have something that belongs to me." I hold open my hand, palm facing up. He looks at me then starts to chuckle.

"Give it up? Are you crazy? Did you see what I can do? Why the hell would I give this up?"

My other hand remains beneath my cape, drawing out a pair of collapsed batarangs. "This is your last warning. I don't want to hurt you."

"Oh please, I'm more likely to hurt you," he says. "Bring it on, Batsy!"

My hand flies out from my cape, the batarangs snapping open just before they leave my fingers. 'Rubberman' stands his ground, the weapons bouncing off his body. He smiles and jumps at me. I throw out my leg in a powerful kick that sends him flying back. He strikes the building he dropped for then bounces back. The speed is too fast and I can't dodge, instead his body smacks into me, throwing me against the pavement. 

I flip up and draw another batarang, this one with a cable attached to the end. Once it flies from my hand, it wraps around Rubberman and I pull it tightly, pulling him back from one of his bounces. He retracts his mass, slipping free from the cable. He bounces on the ground, then bounces towards me, slamming against me. He holds me down, wrapping his hands around my throat.