Chapter 1

Arkham is full of failures. Pathetic excuses for "villains." These sorry two-bit whack-jobs with their costumes and gadgets don't understand the first thing about power. True power is simply force applied to a situation with a strategic intellect. Ask Joker what that means. You'd probably not have a clue what the clown was talking about. I know I sure as hell wouldn't.

My name is Ruben Horrace, and I know power. I know war. I just came back from it. So when I know I can take Gotham, there's no debate in my mind. The GCPD, the mayor, the judges, the civilians all wondering aimlessly without a clue to what life means. I know what life means. There is one who understands. The Batman knows. That's why he always comes out on top. These morons he always takes on, they are just doing it for kicks. Yeah, there's the guy with the messed up face who is getting revenge. Isn't that what revenge is, though? There's no justice or fairness. Only kicks.

The Batman knows otherwise. He's an idealist. Unwavering, like a concrete barrier against a tide of shit. That's what I admire about the freak. That's also right where my admiration ends, and my new gig begins. You could call me an idealist, as well. The difference is, the foundation to my beliefs is that there is no point in creating an ideal. I'm an anarchist, a fascist, a liberal, a republican. I'm everything and nothing. I think that's why I would don the alias "Infinity."

So, my motivation is to kill the Bat. I need to kill the Batman, otherwise I'm nothing. But there will be no costumes, no masks for me. Just the fury in my eyes, the smell of my sweat, the hatred in my smile. All of this, and more raced through my head as I was flying back from the desert on that steel bird.

I was coming home to no parade, no family, and no friends. Everyone I knew from my past was either dead or gone. I had only that one image. Batman broken, dead, and bloodied. Utterly beaten and defeated. I had the training. Now I needed a safe spot to hole up for awhile and plan my next move.

I stepped from the terminal exit into the taxi bay. I scoffed, again, at all the ants in their nest. The civilians completely unaware of the horrors occurring overseas. That they knew nothing about survival… For a brief moment there was a sliver of pity for the poor sons of bitches, but that faded into loathing as I observed one young boy hitting his mother and calling her an obscenity that would've had my blood boiling.

I finally hailed a cab down. Stepping into the rusty yellow hatchback, I got the sense that I had somehow inconvenienced the young Arabic driver. Ironic, that coming home I would not get a hero's welcome, but be treated like crap by a member of the very people I had just gotten done slaughtering. A recently-retired Ranger's welcome in today's world, I supposed.

"Where are you going, asshole?" What a nice fellow. I instructed him to take me to a place I had picked out a few months back. A real shit hole, but better than living on the street. When you are planning on killing the most dangerous vigilante on the East Coast, you have to make some sacrifices. This thought made me forget all about the disrespectful cab driver. If anyone had bothered to notice, they would have spotted a small smirk take shape on my face.

After listening to the cab driver remark several times about how the place was a "roach-fuck-funhouse" I settled in, eager to start my new life. I saw, as I often did, exactly how the next few weeks would go. What did I need now? Money. A crew. Some small gigs to get his attention. Easy shit. The real challenge was what happened when that rodent's eyes centered on yours truly. I had a lot of work to do for that. First, though. I needed some dough. Time for a little insanity!

Chapter 2

Charlie pulled a drag from his cigarette, savoring the taste. He had always loved that first smoke of the shift. You see, Charlie worked the midnight shift on the GCPD. Though he was low ranking, and mainly just a traffic officer, he stilled liked to imagine me made a difference in such a fucked up world. Some semblance of sanity… something to hold onto…

These thoughts drifted through his mind as he sipped his hot coffee and smoked. Charlie had one specific diner he was accustomed to visiting on the beginning of his shift. It wasn't the coffee, or a hot waitress. It wasn't that it was conveniently placed near the Police station or even that they served the cops for free. The reason Charlie enjoyed this establishment was that there was always a regular there. These local guys who worked the docks or the warehouses. They talked about their small troubles and good times. These moments mattered to Charlie, and reminded him of better times.

Charlie heard the uninteresting sound of the bell clinging as a new customer emerged into the diner. Later, right before Charlie ceased to exist in the land of the living, he would remember that bell and would wish that it would have sounded like an alarm because it signified the arrival of not a customer, but a crook. And not just any crook, mind you. A real professional. A soldier…

Chapter 3

I walked into some two bit diner with a couple of guys I had found in local joints. They were no-good sons of bitches, with no hope, no future. That is, until they met yours truly. I relived the moment while I walked into the diner. The two young guys were shaking from a mixture of adrenaline and nerves. The excitement of dealing with a real criminal was exhilarating for them. I told them to call me Infinity.

"Why do you call yourself Infinity?"

"You idiots! Don't you see? Because our potential is limitless! We could own this city in just a few short weeks!"

They preferred to call me Boss. This was alright with me, since they were just pawns on a chessboard, anyway. Sacrifices must be made for victory, and these soldiers looked like just the type to give their lives for something greater. The death of a Bat…