**Chapter 22: The Bait is Set**
Gotham's underworld was a machine that never stopped moving, always adapting, always scheming. And tonight, the gears were turning in ways Ethan could never have predicted.
At the far edge of the city's waterfront, a cluster of warehouses stood in eerie silence. The usual dock workers were nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by masked figures moving with quiet efficiency. Their leader, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, checked his watch impatiently.
"Shipment's secure," one of his men confirmed. "But we've got word someone might be coming for it."
The leader smirked. "Good. Let's see if the rumors about this 'Ethan Cross' are true."
Miles away, perched atop a rooftop, Ethan adjusted the crude binoculars he had fused together from scrap parts. The information leak had been almost too obvious, like someone *wanted* him to take the bait.
"This stinks," he muttered to himself. But if there was a real threat, he couldn't ignore it.
He focused, scanning the area, noting every exit, every possible ambush point. With a deep breath, he activated his fusion ability, molding a grappling hook from a combination of steel rods and electrical cables. The mechanism clicked into place, and with a single fluid motion, he swung down toward the docks.
Inside one of the warehouses, Lorna Kane watched through security cameras, sipping a glass of red wine.
"He took the bait," she murmured, smirking.
Her assistant nodded. "He moves well. Like someone trained."
"Of course. The question is—can he handle what's waiting for him inside?"
She tapped a button on her console, and the warehouse's power flickered before plunging into complete darkness.
Ethan landed in a crouch just as the lights cut out. Instantly, his senses went on high alert.
"Clever," he whispered.
A faint hum of machinery told him this wasn't just a simple blackout. He reached for a discarded flashlight and fused it with the lens of his binoculars, creating a night vision scope. As the world adjusted into a green-tinged hue, he saw them—dozens of figures closing in.
"Trap it is, then." He flexed his fingers. "Alright. Let's see what you've got."
**To be continued...**