Killer Moth watched, mesmerised, as the flames crawling swiftly up the warehouse infrastructure. It didn't take long for the building to look moth-eaten, as the larval flames ate through the ceiling, sprouting wings as they emerged into the night. Black cocoons of smoke were spun and shed, carried by the winter breeze as they fell away.

Moth rubbed his hands together. It really was a marvel of nature. The metamorphosis from spark to inferno, the strength and speed with which it grew. He understood Garfield's obsession now. To an extent, at least. There was beauty within the blaze.

But pyromania was of no interest to Drury Walker.

It was the Bat that interested him. The fire was simply a signal. An invitation, no, a challenge. Come and face me, my nemesis. For too long he had been mocked. This time, he would prove he was a foe worth reckoning with.

He searched the pouch of his utility belt and found the seasonal snack, he'd prepared earlier. Waiting for the enemy sure worked up an appetite. As he unwrapped the foil in which he'd cooked them, he began to sing quietly in the night.

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire

Killer Croc nipping at your nose

Batman and the Robins make a choir

And Joker dressed up as an Eskimo.

He was no lyricist, but he was a good cook.

Walker had barely begun to munch before the Batman thumped heavily onto the roof behind him. The vigilante was usually silent; he obviously wanted his presence known. Taking his time, Walker stashed the chestnuts away in his belt before springing to his feet.

"I've been waiting for you, Batman," he sneered, aiming his cocoon gun at his opponent.

With a casual flick of his wrist, Batman released a batarang that ejected the gun from Walker's hand. It rattled across the rooftop and fell over the edge, even as Moth dived to retrieve it.

"No!"

"Give it up, Moth," Batman said.

"No. This time, I win, Batman. Do you hear me? This is my moment!"/p

"He got to his feet and charged at the Dark Knight. As the distance closed, his wings folded out. But it wasn't the wings of old, the useless flimsy pieces of material stuck to his back. This time, Moth had been upgraded. The jetpack fired and propelled him toward the Bat as a gleeful cry escaped his lips.

"It was an early Christmas present from Lynns, a propulsion system not so different form the one on the Firefly costume. Walker was sure he'd be watching, for the fire if nothing else. He wondered if Lynns would jump in if Walker were in trouble. Probably not. And who could blame him. Arkham's full of men and women with good intentions.

On the other hand, if Walker defeated the Batman, Lynns would be sure to advertise his role. And why not? The jetpack was a stunning piece of machinery. Perhaps enough to finally give Killer Moth the upper hand.

Batman dived to the left, his cape trailing behind him, and Moth soared past. By the time he'd brought himself to a stop and turned, Batman had disappeared.

Was that it? Had he won?

"The warehouse was empty." Batman's voice seemed to emanate from all directions at once. "You've never taken a life. Why take the name, Killer Moth?"

"I…I don't understand. Why are you asking me this?"

"Why be a criminal at all?" Batman continued. "Nobody takes you seriously. Not the police, not me, not your fellow criminals. Not even you."

"They'll…they'll learn. They all will. I'll show you all!"

Out of nowhere, Batman appeared. He aimed the gun and pulled the trigger. Walker's eyes grew wide, his mouth dropped and his heart stopped. It took a moment to recognize the customized weapon, the familiar spray flying towards him. He'd been shot. With his own gun.

A minute later, he was hanging upside down, cocooned by his own invention. The street swayed back and forth beneath him, his shadow leaping like a cat from place to place as the firelight from the warehouse flickered. Batman's departing words echoed in his ears.

"You're lost, Drury," the night rumbled. "And too close to the flame."