Arthur Morgan was a dead man.
He had climbed to the very top of the mountain. He laid there, beaten and battered and broken by the illness that had done all but taken his life. Well, at least, completely taken it. The injuries he sustained from Micah and the recent gunfight didn't help his case much either.
Micah Bell had scampered off, the Goddamn rat. Dutch had left the both of them to die, which didn't surprise Arthur too much, really. Though, his refusal to go with Micah had given him second thoughts about Dutch once more. Had he given up on Micah, the money, and with him… the gang in its entirety? Arthur didn't know. All he knew was that he didn't have long to live. Not long at all. With his last ounce of strength, Arthur slowly crawled himself up to the highest peak of the mountain and stared off into the sunset. And, as he looked upon the rising sun one last time, Arthur thought about all he had done. He had robbed, stolen, killed… and yet, he felt oddly at peace with himself. He was at peace that he had gotten John and his family to safety. He was at peace that he had helped Rains Fall and his people flee before they were massacred. He was at peace that, in his final moments, he had done the right thing.
And then… he drifted off.
"Wake the hell up!" Was the first sound Arthur heard as he stirred awake. He groaned and immediately brought his rough hand to rub at his bearded face. He stretched out, and shook his head a bit, before looking up and seeing his new surroundings for the first time.
"The hell…?" He muttered under his breath. The first thing that assaulted his vision was the blinding light above him. He'd never seen a light so damn bright in his life. It took a moment for his vision to correct itself, and when it did he noticed that he was surrounded by towering walls made of who-the-hell-knows-what. He looked up and saw inmates surrounding him, and some damn weird looking prison guards holding some kind of rifles that he hadn't seen before.
"On your feet, Morgan!" One of the guards exclaimed as they grabbed Arthur by the arm and quickly pulled the Outlaw up to his feet, before shoving him into a group of inmates. It didn't take Arthur long at all to realize that he was in a prison of some sorts. More than likely the Pinkertons had gotten him and put him in some kind of… super prison was the only way he could describe the place. Once he looked down and saw what he wearing, his suspicions were confirmed. Attached to his body was slightly baggy, loose fitting orange jumpsuit. As he silently dwelled on the matter, he suddenly heard a loud commotion emit from a room on the adjacent side of the facility. As he glanced upwards, he saw a prim and proper looking man violently thrown out of a nearby room. The man landed on his knees before slowly crawling to his feet, as inmates around him threatened him and the like. Bruce Wayne, his name apparently was. Arthur figured that a guy like that would be eaten apart within five minutes in a place like this.
As the man was ushered into line A, Arthur simply stood there in complete silence before being ushered into the facility as well. At the front of the line, surrounded by two of the guards, stood a tall, almost creepy looking balding man, who brandished a white trench coat and glasses so thick that Arthur couldn't even see his eyes. From what he could tell, this was the man who was in charge of this facility. And, judging by his all around presence and demeanor, Arthur could tell that this man was definitely hiding something. Though, he supposed that everyone had something to hide when he thought about it.
Arthur quietly walked past all the thugs and inmates that plagued the facility, and once he made his way past those metal doors (something else that was new to Arthur, though he didn't dwell on it), his eyes widened a bit as he got a good look at the "prison" in front of him. Though Arthur hesitated to even call it that. As soon as he was thrown out, Arthur was immediately met with the sight of decaying buildings, bridges, and other structures of the like. Just what kind of prison was this?
Arthur's attention was once again taken away as he heard an annoying, squawking voice in front of him. The gunslinger's eyes peered downwards to find an old looking man who was balding just like the creep was earlier. He was surrounded by men of his own and had a fat cigar protruding out his mouth like a sore thumb. He bellowed out a deep, rudged laugh towards that Wayne fella from earlier, who was also standing there. Oddly, he was handcuffed unlike everyone else, which in Arthur's opinion only added insult to the poor man's injury. Before Arthur's very eyes, one of the many thugs of the super-prison leaped over the chain fence with a metal pipe in his hands. Holding that pipe tightly with both hands, the thug took a mighty swing at Wayne's knees as he helped another inmate stand.
"Welcome to hell, Brucey Boy!" The short British man exclaimed with another laugh as he threw his mostly finished cigarette to the ground and crushed it beneath his foot. His men followed him and stood over the collapsed entrepreneur. "Lights out, rich boy!" He exclaimed before bringing his foot down onto Wayne's face, knocking him out instantly. The short man then made a waving motion towards his men and let out a quiet chuckle as he began to walk away, prompting his men to drag the rich boy off into the prison. Arthur just watched, staring on at the scene as Wayne was dragged off. Arthur let out a sigh as he watched, feeling sorry for the poor man. However, as he looked around at the desolate city in front of him, and then back to where Wayne was just being dragged off, Arthur began to feel an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.
It was the same feeling that he felt when Eagle Flies had been shot right in front of him, and later died in front of his own father. That same feeling plagued his mind and his very core, the memory of that moment still very fresh in his mind. He couldn't let that same fate befall this young man. No matter how rich he was, he seemed like he was innocent enough. Or at the very least, Arthur was certain that he didn't do enough in his life to warrant being beaten to death in some alleyway while stuck in a gigantic-ass "prison", if Arthur could even call it that.
So, with a sigh, Arthur stepped forward and made his way to where Gotham's Golden Son was being held captive.