All characters not created by me are sole property of DC Comics, for whom I pledge my allegiance to with loyalty comparable to that of a slightly dependable mercenary.

I should probably mention that I'll be pushing the boundaries of the "Teen" rating as much as I can, so it is entirely possible that the story could shift into the "M" category at some point. I tend to get descriptive with certain violent aspects; blood and such, so just a heads up. Hope you enjoy!

Prologue

Gotham City:

Droplets of rain streaked down the young Tim Drake's face as he darted in between buildings, the dark shadows concealing him from the spotlights unrelenting search. He could hear the deafening clamper of armoured boots circle around him in multiple, disorganized directions; a tell-tale sign that his pursuers had lost visual, albeit temporarily. He had to be careful; being caught this close to the safe house would spell disaster for the resistance movement. If the years of guerilla raids and Imperium counter-attacks had taught him anything, it was that Shock-Troopers would sooner demolish any entire city block than let a single resistance fighter escape. Unsurprising, considering who gave them their orders.

The visage of a patrol group forced him into a tiny crevice just aft of a long stretch of alleyway. He could see the sewer cover leading to his destination from this vantage point, merely a stone's throw away from him now. The Imperium troopers were too close though; any sudden movements would easily be picked up by their helmets audio detectors. A flash of lightning briefly illuminated his surroundings in a piercing white light, cutting away the shadow's cover and sending him further back into the concealed crevice, hopefully remaining out of sight of his death-squad pursers. The fierce clap of thunder that followed, however, gave him an idea.

Thunder's loud enough to cover my tracks. Noise lasts for about 3 seconds, so I'd have to sprint about half a second before in order to get to the manhole cover. About a 5 second delay between the lightning and the thunder, so if I time it right…..

Another bolt of lightning streaked across the crimson sky as Tim launched into a full-on sprint down the alleyway. As he mentally checked off second number two, he slid on his knees over the puddle streaked pavement into a corner near the man-hole cover. He quickly reached out his arms towards the metal disk, rain bouncing off his red leather jacket.

Only to feel the searing pain of the stock of a pulse rifle slammed into his forearm. He quickly gazed up at the concealed face of a lone Imperium Shock-Trooper, the muzzle of his standard issue weapon pointed square between his eyes. Another bolt of lightning cut the night sky in half as Tim's reflexes kicked into overdrive, pure adrenaline flowing throughout his body. His now numb left arm collided with the trooper's unpadded knee, causing him to buckle and tumble towards the ground. At the same time, Tim began to rise, slamming his right fist into the soldier's trachea, preventing any scream of pain or request for assistance from exiting his lips. He caught the soldier's head as he fell and with a single vicious twist he severed the man's spinal cord, killing him instantly. He carefully laid the body on the ground, hopefully keeping any noise to minimum. However a high-pitched shrill escaped from the Shock-Trooper's corpse, the accompanying red light emanating off a small, protruding dot on the armour's shoulder pauldron clearly stating its purpose.

Damn, he swore internally, he's fitting his mooks with goddamn heart-rate monitors. He could hear voices converging on him now as every unit within god knows how large of a radius was alerted to his presence. Damn, damn damn! He swore again.

Thinking quickly, he grabbed a lose piece of rubble off the street and chucked it into the adjacent alley, its impact with the concrete echoing throughout the buildings that surrounded it. Hoping that it would buy him enough time to escape, he lifted the man-hole cover and dove into the dimly-lit sewer, quickly covering the hole again before he completely descended. He began to swear yet again as he landed in the putrid muck that ran beneath the city.

Shit, I'm going to be in so much trouble after this. He glanced nervously around him before sprinting down the tunnel. If Dick didn't get those subs we'll all be dead by sunrise. An explosion knocked him to his feet and rattled the brick-layered walls around him. Another explosion, this one slightly closer overhead, nearly knocked the lights out in the tunnel.

Scratch that, we'll all be dead in under an hour.

He came to a false wall and quickly rapped his knuckles four times in each corner. A keypad materialized in the centre, prompting Tim to type in the password. He quickly punched in AJACCIO, all the while nervously craning his neck side to side, searching for any sign that they had breached the sewer system.

C'mon you stupid piece of shit. If I die because you decide to freeze up again I swear to god…..

The keypad retreated into the wall which now began to shift and pull apart, revealing a concealed tunnel that stretched into pure blackness. He broke into a full-on sprint as the door behind him re-assembled, already being able to hear voices at the end of the dark passage.

"Tim! What in god's name is going on up there?" Barbra Gordon immediately snapped as Tim entered the Resistance's Gotham HQ. She holstered her two plasma pistols before quickly attaching the shin guard of a dead Imperium trooper to her leg, all the while continuing to glare at the young resistance fighter.

Out of breath, Tim replied. "Followed….tried to lose them but…they've got heart-rate monitors now, they know we're here somewhere."

"Shit." Cursed Dick Grayson, his scar tensing up around his left eye. "We've got maybe 10 minutes before they start blasting through the sewer, and then we might as well shoot ourselves and save them the trouble. Did you get what we were looking for?"

Tim nodded and reached into his jacket, pulling out a small data drive. He threw it towards Dick. "I've got pictures here showing that it's still in the city. I don't think he's even tried to move it yet."

"Good," announced a gruff voice, "then there might be hope left in this godforsaken war after all." James Gordon emerged from the shadows, his trademark pipe still trapped between his teeth. "Most of the Gotham resistance was evacuated to our secondary safe house outside Bludhaven….it was getting too hot here anyways. The rest of us might want to start thinking about doing the same once we finish planting the explosives."

"Already done." Replied Barbara. "Just finished before Tim decided to bring the Imperium over for a play-date." Tim glared at her, his clenched fist trembling slightly. Jim ignored both of them.

"Then let's get the hell out of here before…." An explosion rocked the tunnel, the blast emanating from what used to be the false door leading into the base. Dick slammed a fresh magazine into his pulse rifle and motioned towards the opposite end of the base.

"I'd suggest taking the fire exit then, unless you guys have all of a sudden found God and put in a good word."

The four resistance fighters took off further into the base, followed closely by several columns of the remaining resistance personal. Jim removed a small, square device from his trench coat as they neared the exit. It quickly lit up with a proximity alert prompting Jim to slam his fist into the red button in its centre. Another explosion rocked the base, while sounds of agony echoed throughout the superstructure.

Choke on that you goose-stepping feckless thugs, he thought as he smirked to himself.

…..

...

...

The group emerged out of breath in a rundown neighborhood just north of Gotham harbour. They hunched over in an attempt to collect themselves. Jim spoke up again after a few precious seconds had passed.

"All right people, we've stashed a few stolen submersibles on the piers. If we're lucky, they're still intact enough to sail. If not….well I think we bought ourselves some time with the explosives but…."

Before he could finish that sentence, the unmistakable noise of a high-powered round cut through the damp evening air. Jim glanced to his right just in time to see Tim's head explode into a red, gory mist, the bullet ricocheting harmlessly off the wall behind him. His face contorted in horror as the boy dropped to the ground, lifeless and covered in his own blood and brain-matter.

"TIM!" Screamed Barbara, her arms reaching out in vain towards the now lifeless teen. Dick held her back.

"It's too late for him, he's gone!" he turned quickly towards Jim. "We need to move! NOW!"

Jim stared blankly at Tim's corpse for what seemed like eternity, before steading himself. "Christ….Fall back people! Get to the alleyways and head for the docks! Do not stop, I repeat DO NOT STOP! FOR ANYTHING!"

The resistance group sprinted for the cover of the alleyway as a second shot rang out, just barely missing the top of Dick's head. A third shot struck a man in his back as he went down with an anguished scream in front of Jim. Turning a corner, he un-holstered his two revolvers and turned defiantly back towards the street they had just come from. Dick and Barbara stopped in their tracks.

"Dad, what are you doing?!" Barbara screamed with pleading eyes. Jim looked back at her, remorsefully.

"Get the hell out of here, now! That's an order! I'll try to hold them off and buy you guys some time!"

"That's suicide you old fool!" Screamed back Dick while Barbara moved towards him on the verge of tears.

"Please Dad, we just lost Tim!"

"And I won't lose my daughter, not to him!" He grabbed her by the shoulders and squeezed, his face full of regret. "Please Barbara, go."

Tears flowed down her cheeks, but painfully, she nodded. She gripped his elbow tightly before pulling away. "I love you Dad…."

He brushed a tear off her face before turning his gaze towards Dick. "You take care of her, you hear me? I swear to god you'll wish you were killed by these goons too if you don't."

Dick looked back sympathetically as he ushered Barbara down the alley. "I promise. It's been an honor, Jim….." He too took off down the alley, leaving Jim and his two revolvers to face the oncoming hoard of Imperium soldiers. They darted into the adjacent street, their weapons draw. He walked forward, both weapons outstretched and pointed at the growing mass of Shock-Troopers, baiting them to open fire. Suddenly, a black shape hovered overhead, startling Jim temporarily. The shock quickly gave way to pure hatred as he shouted towards the sky.

"What's the matter? Too chicken-shit to face an old man on your own? Need your lobotomized convicts to do your dirty work for you?"

He could tell he was visibly shaking, but Jim held his ground regardless. A booming voice called out from the ether, its emotionless vitriol aimed solely at him.

"Your attempts to bait me out into the open are pathetic, but I'll oblige you this time, old man. Every dying man should have at least one wish come true. But first…." Two black, winged objects flew from the shadows and embedded themselves in Jim's wrists, the searing pain forcing him to drop them on the pavement. "Let me relieve you of your weapons. Don't want you to hurt yourself while I beat you to death."

The shadows seemed to come alive as an armoured figure descended to the pavement, his black cloak covering him almost fully. Cold, white slits gazed at Jim, send waves of hatred towards the grey-haired man as he motioned towards his troops to back off. Gordon raised his fists and entered a fighting stance, determined to go out with as much dignity as possible.

"I'm not scared of you Batman. These people might think you're some sort of demon, but I know you're just a lunatic in a bad Halloween costume."

He jumped at Batman and swung his fist towards his face. The masked figure effortlessly caught him by the wrist however, and pulling him forward delivered a vicious elbow to his face. He grabbed the dazed resistance fighter by the throat and heaved him into a near-by wall, the tell-tale sign of cracked ribs mixed with screams of pain echoed through the streets. Batman sneered.

"You're not intimidating in the slightest Gordon. Never have been, never will. Don't delude yourself into thinking that you somehow matter in the grand picture," he delivered a thundering uppercut to Jim's jaw as he attempted to stand, "killing you here and now is just pure pleasure."

Batman picked up the battered Jim Gordon by the back of his trench coat before delivering a powerful kick into his midsection. Gordon vomited up blood onto the sidewalk as his vision nearly blacked out. Batman allowed his bruised opponent to roll onto the sidewalk, where he placed his armoured boot on Jim's throat.

"Y-you can't…..win," Jim croaked out through a broken jaw, "you're just…just a man. Someone w…..will beat you…."

Batman cracked a small smile, "Oh, I think you know damn well that I'm more than just a man. As for you….." He pulled out a batarang from his utility belt, the sharp edge descending onto Gordon's throat as its shining black material reflected a distorted image of the rising sun. His smile grew wider. "I'm going to enjoy flying your skin up the City Hall flagpole. Goodbye Jim Gordon, I can't say it's been a pleasure knowing you."

And with that, Jim Gordon's world turned completely black.

And here's the prologue for the story. I figured that it was time for Batman to be the main villain of a "hero gone bad" story, so here he is in all his violently psychotic ways. Hope you enjoy, and feel free to leave critiques or questions in the comments.