Ashes to ashes; dust to dust. He promised the city a steady flurry of ashes, and with winter came the coldest downfall Gotham had ever seen. The bliss of snow sheathed corpses under an inch of crystals. Boots crunched through ice as juveniles ran rampart through the city on a terrorizing spree. Best of all, Gotham was free of its Dark Knight.
Within the looted halls of Town Square, Bane watched from a balcony as society devolved a few ages. Crowds gathered around a pile of debris shaped to form a tall judges' podium. A man sat at the throne, banging a meat tenderizer at the mahogany surface. Each bang shushed the crowd more and more. It was reassuring to know people weren't too barbaric to abandon their manners.
"The court holds one Mr. Blake, guilty of espionage and plotting to unleash chaos on this orderly city. You have two options Mr. Blake: death or exile." the judge slouched forward in his seat as he spoke.
Detective Blake glared but gave no response.
"Folks? Death or exile?" the crowd shouted violently but "exile!" was chanted from greater mouths.
With that, the judge banged his meat tenderizer on the podium a final time to rest the case. Mr. Blake was bounded with rope and dragged out of the hall with the crowd following close behind. Bane followed as well. He was never interested in watching any sentence be carried out, but Mr. Blake intrigued him. It was difficult to tell from behind the mask, but his eyebrows cocking downward showed enough curiosity.
Outside at the pier, the crowd had pushed Blake onto the ice. His ankles, as well as, his arms were still tied behind his back.
"Walk! Walk! Walk!" they shouted.
Useless words.
He couldn't get up and walk even if he wanted to. But still they badgered. It wasn't until Bane stepped forward that the chanting stopped. Blake twisted his body to face the silence. All eyes were upon him but the look Bane gave-it was overpowering.
"Your hero is gone. Your commissioner is a liar and a fraud. This city isn't your home anymore. And for weeks you tried so hard to unravel every strand I've weaved to form this great city. Exile isn't fitting."
Bane began to wander forward, stepping onto the ice to stand before Blake. "I will break you, as I broke him." he whispered. Bane reached into a pocket inside his coat to pull out a worn out switch blade. He tossed it aside a few feet behind Blake. As Blake twisted to look, Bane kicked him in the gut, then once more with the soul of his boot tossing Blake aside towards the knife. His intentions were clear. He wanted a real fight. He wanted to watch Blake struggle before judgment was laid out for him.
Though the intent was a little humiliating against Blake's tough guy demeanor, he accepted the blade and with little ease freed himself from the rope. He stood upon the ice as Bane strayed close. It was curious, Bane walked without a care that any misstep would send his body plummeting through the ice to a cryogenic grave. Blake however barely moved at all. Every twist of his heel caused a spiderweb of cracks along the icy surface.
Bane took advantage of the immobilized Blake, sending his fist into the man's gut to send him soaring once more.
"The only way I will allow your death is if you put up a fight." he shouted. Blake moved himself onto his knees and stood. The ice felt a little more firm where he now stood. He took the opportunity to charge at Bane. Lifting his left arm, Bane prepared to block, but Blake tricked him. He under hooked with his right arm, smacking his fist into Bane's gut. Apart from a rough jolt, the blow did nothing to stagger him.
Bane clutched his gloved hand at Blake's throat and slammed his body down into the ice. "Weak. So weak. This is the man who annoys me during Wayne's absence?" Bane put his foot on Blake's torso and pushed down slowly. Cracks began to spread like wings behind Blake. The ice molded downward with each press.
"There is no place for you in my city." Bane whispered. He pressed his boot down once more, sending Blake through the ice. From across the shore, the crowd jeered at Blake's loss.
"He had my permission to die."
The rubber treads of Bane's boots crushed the snow dusting upon the ice as he came back to the pier to the gleeful heckling of his followers.
You couldn't tell from behind his mask, but the apparent wrinkles spreading like cracks at the ends of his eyes showed signs of ancient muscles shifting to force a smile, perhaps brought on from sending one of his foes to a watery grave.
But it didn't last.
As Bane placed his foot down a hand breached the ice to grab at his ankle. Blake wasn't so easily defeated. Bane pulled back, but in doing so, Blake rose from the icy water. His drenched body shivered in pain with blood dripping down from his nose.
"I must honor you, detective. It takes a brave man to seek death a second time. But it appears I am not your harbinger today. We will fight again-soon."
Bane kicked Blake in the side, sending his body skidding along the ice. When Blake stopped, he remained motionless, lying on the surface like a beaten hound.
"Soon." Bane repeated. His followers weren't thrilled with the motion. Some volunteered to put Blake out of his misery right then and there. But Bane denied it. He wanted a challenge.
With the fall of the dark knight, Blake was the only remaining threat.