Absolute Batman #1 (2024) :

Absolute Batman #1 (2024) : 

BATMAN LEGEND SCOTT SNYDER AND ICONIC ARTIST NICK DRAGOTTA TRANSFORM THE DARK KNIGHT’S TALE FOR THE MODERN AGE! Without the mansion… without the money… without the butler… what’s left is the Absolute Dark Knight!

Without the mansion…without the money…without the butler…what’s left is the Absolute Dark Knight!

In a mysterious world full of secrets, the Dark Knight sits upon the throne of Gotham’s legends. But in this new and innovative story, writer Scott Snyder decides to take us on an unprecedented journey to rediscover the character of Batman. What happens when a legendary hero like Batman is reshaped, and how can the forces surrounding him create an entirely different tale?

Today, we begin with the first issue of *Absolute Batman*, where we dive deep into this mysterious universe to witness the dark and new side of the Dark Knight. This is **Kaboda Comics**, the place where you’ll find comic content narrated as dramatic audio stories, along with videos that explore characters, their original tales, their power levels, and abilities. Don’t forget to support and subscribe to the channel to encourage us to continue this story and to create more of these videos for you.

At some point in the past, young Bruce Wayne leaned over the sign of the Bat House, his eyes wide with wonder as he gazed at the mural. But he turned when his father, Thomas Wayne, called out to him. Thomas was gathering a class at Gotham’s zoo, telling his son that there would be time later to visit the Bat House.

Later, at the same time, a roaring motorcycle engine echoes through the dark and grimy streets of Gotham. The city looks different from the last time its rider was here—its outward appearance shinier, with buildings stretching higher into the sky, brighter than before. But the rider knows the truth. He passes by tents in the alleys, where criminals lurk in the shadows, waiting for an unwary victim to walk by.

He turns the bike into an alley and finally stops at his safehouse. Alfred Pennyworth removes his helmet, scanning the dark streets around him, but sees nothing. He locks his motorcycle to the building before heading inside.

The small safehouse contains only a tiny kitchen and a bed, while his weapons hang displayed on the wall. As the kettle boils, Alfred tries calling his daughter, Julia, though he doesn’t even know if she still lives in Gotham—since they haven’t spoken in years. No reply comes, so he leaves a message with a sigh, then finally sits down with his tea and powers on his secure computer. Signing in under the name *Pennyworth*, the words **Secure Connection Established** appear on the screen. Moments later, his superior begins speaking.

“The tea’s still as good as you remember?” the man asks. Alfred shrugs and replies, “Delicious. So—what’s the mission?”

An image flashes on the screen as his superior explains: a gang known as the *Party Animals* has been wreaking havoc in the city over the past three months, raising Gotham’s murder rate by 700%. Alfred sighs as he hears the reason.

“I read the report. But may I ask—why call me back from Singapore? I was about to close in on a target I’ve been chasing for months.”

His superior responds, “We need you here. Your mission is surveillance only. Gather intel on the Party Animals gang—do not engage.”

There’s a brief pause before the superior continues, “One note—there may be another player in the city. We’ve only caught glimpses, but it seems they’re circling the gang as well. If they get close, you have permission to intervene.”

The call ends, leaving Alfred alone in the silence of his safehouse. He finishes his tea, grabs his gun and coat, and heads back out into the night.

But as he steps outside, he freezes for a moment—his motorcycle lock has been cut, and the bike is gone.

“Damn. I hate this city,” Alfred mutters through clenched teeth.

The next day, inside Croc’s gym, heavy punches slam relentlessly into a massive punching bag. Bruce Wayne moves with incredible speed for a man of his size, his fists and feet striking the bag with such force that onlookers can’t help but stare in amazement.

Memories flash through his mind—the day at the zoo, his last moments with his father. The class had been watching the lions when Thomas discussed with his son that the family would be going to see a movie that evening. Then came the memory of gunfire, right before his eyes.

Fueled by the thought, Bruce drives his fist into the bag hard enough to rip the canvas, sending sand spilling everywhere.

“Really, Wayne?” asks Waylon, the gym’s owner, holding onto his pet crocodile.

Bruce sighs and looks at the mess. “Sorry, Waylon,” he mutters.

Shaking his head with a grin, Waylon replies, “Let’s call it ninety bucks for the bag and three dollars for the sand.”

“The sand comes with the bag,” Bruce points out as he pulls off his gear and grabs his duffel.

“Yeah, but cleaning up the sand takes time, my friend. And my time’s gotten pretty valuable these days,” Waylon shoots back, patting his crocodile.

Bruce can’t believe his friend is still going through with his crazy plans to bring in exotic animals. “You know having Owie around to help with logistics isn’t a good idea, right? You’re gonna get busted one of these days,” Bruce warns as he shrugs into his coat.

Heading toward the door, Bruce hears Waylon call after him, “You coming to the poker game this week? Everyone’s showing up—Eddie, Harvey, Oz. I think even Selina might be there.”

Bruce shakes his head again.

“At least tell me you’re going to the city council meeting tonight,” Waylon presses.

But Bruce refuses once more and makes his way out.

“This city’s falling apart! Those damn Party Animals are tearing everything down!” Waylon shouts after him.

“I’ve got to go,” Bruce replies, waving as he leaves, promising to pay for the bag.

“This is our home, man. Somebody’s gotta do something,” Waylon mutters, turning his eyes toward a photo of the old neighborhood friends gathered together.

That night, aboard Roman’s yacht, Don Maroni and Don Falcone sit across from the masked crime lord at a dining table overloaded with food. Nearby, a masked woman and a masked child lounge by the pool, while a masked DJ plays music beside them.

Maroni leans over the table, pointing his cigarette toward Roman. “There’s a rumor that those scum from the Party Animals gang are your men,” he says.

Maroni grows heated, reminding Roman that there are rules in Gotham. Falcone nods in agreement, insisting that Roman must take his crew and leave Gotham before dawn—or else they’ll all be facing death.

The woman rises from the pool, wrapping a robe around herself as she joins them at the table. “Darling, show them the masks,” she says as she sits. The child, still with a towel draped over his shoulders, joins as well.

Roman, face hidden behind his mask, turns toward her—perhaps smiling beneath it. “Good idea, my dear,” he replies.

Behind them, in the shadows of the yacht, lights begin to rise slowly, revealing boxes filled with masks.

“These,” Roman explains, “are death masks. Each one molded from the corpse of a person.”

As more lights come on, Maroni’s eyes widen in shock—among the faces, he sees his own brother. The lights continue to reveal more masks—faces of the deputies and family members of Gotham’s crime lords.

Roman calmly sits, pouring himself a glass of champagne. “I have only two spots left,” he says smoothly. “Reserved for you both.”

Suddenly, the child leaps up behind them, stabbing Maroni in the eyes. He then jumps to Falcone, yanking a garrote tight around his throat.

Roman exhales, sipping his champagne, and casually orders the DJ to turn the music louder.

On the third day, the Party Animals gang continues to spread chaos across the city. But as night falls, someone is preparing to strike back.

Bruce Wayne stands atop a building. He lowers the cowl over his face and leaps into the night.

Meanwhile, at the city council meeting, Mayor Gordon addresses the people of Gotham, assuring them he’s doing everything in his power to put an end to the Party Animals’ reign of terror. But the crowd doesn’t believe him. They shout accusations, claiming he’s grown soft on crime despite his history as Police Commissioner.

Outside, Alfred watches from a nearby rooftop as a large group of heavily armed Party Animals approaches city hall. Pressing a button on his device, he reports:

**“Pennyworth to command: Party Animals on site, heavily armed. Casualties likely. Requesting permission to engage.”**

After a short pause, the reply comes through:

**“Permission denied, Pennyworth. No matter what happens, you are to observe only.”**

Inside, the shouting grows until one woman rises to her feet. She doesn’t look at Gordon, but at the faces of the crowd.

“Look at us. This is what they want—for us to fight in fear and turn against one another,” she says. Then she points toward Gordon. “I work with the mayor’s office, and I trust him to solve this problem. But it isn’t just up to him—or to Commissioner Bullock. It’s on all of us to stand against these killers and unite together.”

Suddenly, the doors creak and swing open slightly. A hand grenade rolls inside.

With a deafening blast of light and sound, the flashbang explodes. Screams echo as people hit the floor in panic. The doors burst open wide, and masked criminals storm in, wielding automatic weapons.

But on the stage, Gordon stands his ground.

“Here! Look at me!” he shouts. “Whatever you want—deal with me!”

The leader of the Party Animals gang shakes his head, raising his rifle toward Gordon. “Goodbye, Jimmy,” he says—and fires. Bullets rip through the stage, and Gordon collapses to the floor, wincing in pain.

He orders his men to open fire, but something grabs them, yanking them outside. The doors slam shut behind them.

Officer Barbara Gordon rushes forward, opening the door with her pistol ready—but she freezes when she sees a masked man staring down at her.

“No matter what you hear… don’t open this door,” Batman whispers from somewhere nearby.

Alfred watches intently, ignoring his orders not to intervene. He sees the vigilant hero tossing smoke bombs to obscure himself from the small gang army.

Gunfire erupts outside the city hall, but Batman moves swiftly through the smoke, delivering punches and kicks to take down gang members. His cape seems to stiffen, spinning around him like a weapon. The first wave falls, but a second advances.

Alfred observes as Batman extends his hands, drawing hidden blades from the sides of his cowl. He spins through the crowd, slicing and incapacitating them with precision—careful not to kill.

“Perfect… my God,” Alfred sighs, watching through his scope.

Only a few Party Animals remain. One massive thug steps forward, wielding a cleaver. Batman reaches for his belt, pulling out a pair of pliers, and removes the Bat-symbol from his chest, fashioning it into an improvised combat tool.

The hulking gang member charges, enraged, but Batman spins, cutting off his hand. The criminal looks down in shock, clutching the severed limb.

“I’ve heard they can sometimes reattach it… there’s a hospital about three blocks south—or east—I can’t remember. If I were you, I’d run,” Batman growls, his gaze sweeping over the remaining criminals.

Suddenly, the rest of the gang flees, rushing toward their motorcycles outside city hall. On the rooftop, Alfred shakes his head in admiration. “Well done… though a true strategist would’ve set a trap for them.”

He watches as Batman grabs a detonator and blows up the street where the Party Animals arrive, filling the scene with smoke. Alfred pulls out his rifle, silently slipping into the chaos.

He approaches Batman, aiming his weapon. The high-tech automatic rifle hums.

“This is a DC-34 automatic,” Alfred whispers. “Son, there are only three of these in the world. It could blow your brains across the sidewalk before you even blink.”

But Batman moves with lightning speed, spinning and kicking the older man in the stomach, then snatching the rifle from him.

“Dangerous,” Batman growls, leaping away. Alfred jumps too—but the vigilant guardian has vanished. The confrontation, however, is far from over.

Over the next few days, Alfred spends his time tracking Batman, using all his skills to uncover his identity—Bruce Wayne. He follows the young man as he moves across Gotham, learning everything he can about his past.

Bruce Wayne grew up in the Crime Alley area. His mother was a social worker, his father a teacher. Bruce was exceptionally smart and excelled academically, but his life changed forever when his class took a trip to the Gotham Zoo. An armed man appeared, and Thomas Wayne hid the children in the Bat House, closing the door before confronting the assailant. Bruce tried to call for his father but was left in darkness for some time. That day flipped his world upside down. He eventually regained control, studying at college in diverse fields such as mechanics, chemistry, psychology, criminology, and military theory, before returning to the city to serve it.

Alfred continues his surveillance as Bruce heads into an old neighborhood, finally arriving at his destination. He sees a woman sitting on her stoop, smiling at him.

“Your poor mother waited an hour for you in the cold streets of Gotham,” Martha Wayne says. Bruce helps his mother up, placing an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Mom. I passed by the zoo on my way here,” he tells her, asking how she’s been since the city hall events. Alfred watches from across the street, exhaling. *I don’t want to catch a boy in front of his mother.*

Later, Bruce sits in one of the upper floors of Gotham’s finest skyscraper, pressing a button on his computer. He logs a note: *There’s something behind these masks—more than just protection or intimidation. When I opened one, I found electronic circuits inside.*

Suddenly, he hears a noise behind him and quickly closes the file. Alfred moves stealthily in the shadows, gun ready. He knows Bruce is aware of his presence. *Smart boy, hiding in the upper floors of buildings owned by the wealthy—but not using them, just empty investments.*

Alfred steps into view, aiming his weapon. “But I’m closing in on you now,” he says.

Batman appears behind him, holding the rifle he stole. He pulls the trigger, aiming at Alfred. Alfred raises an eyebrow. “I thought you were better than this, boy. You threw all your principles out the first time you were cornered.”

Alfred hides his gun and extends a hand. “Give me the pistol, boy. You are not a killer.”

The rifle fires, striking Alfred in the face and knocking him to the ground. He winces in pain but realizes Batman has switched the rifle to a non-lethal mode.

Alfred hears the roar of a motorcycle starting. “You’re not the only one who tracks people!” Batman shouts, speeding past on Alfred’s stolen bike.

He jumps from the building, shattering a window, and disappears into the night. Alfred returns to his safehouse, his face bandaged, muttering, *Where the hell will he land next?*

Later, sitting at his computer, he says, “I’ll catch you next time.”

His superior responds, “Understood. Focus only on the Party Animals gang.” After a pause, he adds, “By the way, your old target—we lost his trail somewhere in the Philippines. He’s now in the wind.”

Meanwhile, in Manila, helicopter pilots prepare for takeoff. The co-pilot asks his partner if the man they’re after has a name. “Just ‘Sir,’ nothing else,” he replies.

“No one even knows his real name. When you’re among the thirty richest men in the world, you can do whatever you want, I guess,” the first pilot says. He reminds his partner not to joke again.

“Why not?” the co-pilot asks as they watch a man approaching.

“Because the man never laughs. Ever,” the pilot responds.

At that moment, the man opens the helicopter’s main door, his face shrouded in shadows. It’s the Joker.

And so we reach the end of Absolute Batman Issue #1—a journey full of mystery and thrilling events, with much more still to uncover.

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Until next time, stay vigilant in this dark world, and we’ll see you in the next issue.