How did it all fall apart? How did everything go wrong? How did he lose the two things he loved most in just twenty-four hours? How?

He pondered these questions, sitting alone on the roof of his beloved home. The moon shone a subtle grey from behind the clouds, outlining the skyscraper upon which he had fixed his gaze. Dark alleys interwove below him, creating the maze that he knew so well. Cars honked, drivers shouted profanities at pedestrians who cut them off, drunk girls giggled while they clung to the arm of whatever man they were going home with that night. None of these sounds reached him and yet he knew they were there, like a small buzz in the back of his mind.

His pet snaked its way up his leg, slithered up his torso, resting upon his shoulder. He instinctively raised his arm and stroked its head with his hand. They both knew the time was coming. They both knew what needed to be done. But looking out at his city, he began to have doubts. This was his life, he grew up here. He was raised on these streets, shaped by its harsh nights and frozen winters. He had never had much, but he could always take solace in the comfort of familiarity. It was always the two of them, him and his mother…

His mother.

An image of her face flashed in his mind and snapped him out of his doubt. He did this for her. In her memory. He would complete what she had started, in honor of her love.

He rose from his throne of vines. Each vine was carefully tangled around another, thorns angled inwards so they would not stick him. As he stood, the vines disentangled and pooled at his feet, awaiting his command. He looked out at that dark city one last time before beginning his assault.

He reached out his hands, pushing his thoughts outward to cover the entire metropolitan area. Every plant, every vine, every flower. He could sense them all, could hear them breath and think and communicate. As each felt his presence, they fell silent. It is time, my beloveds. Rise up and fight by my side.

From all directions he was welcomed with the shattering of glass and the screams of citizens. He smirked. This was his mother's plan, the destruction of the city and the resurrection of a lost empire. The Age of Nature would begin, starting with the downfall of Gotham.

"Clover." One word. One simple word, said stoically, was all that was needed for the smirk to fall from his face. He need not turn around to know who approached, to know that his love had come for him. "Clover, please. Stop this. You don't have to-"

"Yes I do! You know why I must do this!" Clover spun around and spat at his former lover. "You and that godforsaken sociopath caused this!" He could vaguely make out the figure hidden amongst the shadows.

"We didn't kill her and you know that. It was an accident."

"No. The accident was me believing we could be together. You're a hero, I'm a villain. You were raised to uphold justice – though how that man can claim he is just is beyond me – while I was raised to do what must be done to survive. You cannot stop me." Clover paced along the rooftop, his sentences accented by more screams and general sounds of chaos, keeping his eyes fixed on the shadows. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see his pet slowly inching around the edges of the roof, getting into position to strike.

"Clover, I'll give you one more chance. Stop this. Call off the plants. Let's go home!"

He just laughed. "Do you really, truly believe I would ever go home with you?! You're just as delusional as he is. You deserve each other. You and that MURDERER!" His final word was shouted as his pet launched towards the shadows, the red tip of its thorn glinting in the moonlight.

His adversary leapt out from the darkness, narrowly dodging the attack while simultaneously striking the vine down with a swift hit from his escrimas. Nightwing turned towards his love. The black Kevlar of his outfit was accentuated by the sharp red bird emblazoned across his tight chest.

Clover shouted as he commanded his other minions to strike. Nightwing jumped and crouched and flipped to avoid the attacks, hitting each vine with his electrically charged weapons. He landed mere feet in front of Clover, spinning to face him. Clover reached behind him, pulling a single black rose from his back pocket. With a single push from his mind, the rose elongated into a black staff tipped by a blood-red thorn. He jabbed the tip at his opponent, who easily knocked it aside. Nightwing slammed both escrimas down on the staff, which bent from the tension but didn't break. Clover swung his staff around and struck Nightwing across the face with the blunt end. He spun around Nightwing's back and struck the base of his neck with his hand. He crumbled to the ground, dazed but aware of Clover above him preparing to drive his thorn-spear into his back. Nightwing spun and kicked Clover's legs out from under him, making the man slam his back into the ground. Both rolled away and rose to their feet.

"Clover, don't make this go on any more."

"Still pleading? Let's just end this, Dick. I have a city to destroy." With that, Clover charged forwards. Nightwing dropped low and swept his legs out, tripping Clover. Clover struggled to regain his footing as he neared the edge of the roof. He felt the bricks scrape his calves, felt the wind begin to push towards him, heard one last sharp cry from his love's lips before he began to plummet towards the concrete be low.

"CLOVER!"