This is my story for the game Arkham Knight.
"Chaos has been an everyday knife, scarring, ripping Gotham's flesh apart. Jaws of maniacs crunching down on our arms of freedom; thugs spitting on our monument of peace. We cannot let disorder butcher down our lives and city. Beyond the crumbling walls, battered beyond recognition, I know, hiding in the shadows are men and women ready to stand tall. In brutal times like this, everyone of you, men, women, children. I say to you... Be selfless, be courageous, be brave. Be Batman." Commissioner Gordon's speech rippled through houses, inspired actions and sparked life within the dark fearful corners of houses.
A FEW DAYS AGO...
"Bruce, I am detecting another gang outbreak. Penguin's men this time, and they are razing downtown neighbourhoods."
Oracle spun her wheel chair around, and slid towards the computer behind her.
"Note, two-face is live as well, i detect 40 men , they're all razing buildings and looting them." Batman replied,
"call Robin and Nightwing to Penguin. I'm going for two-face. He has some questions to answer."
Batman stepped out from the glass dome on top of the Wayne enterprises building. Standing on the tallest building in Gotham, his eyes panned across the city horizon, the gentle father's eyes gazed upon the flickering lights. However, this was no time to treat this city like a child. Two-face's thugs were tearing communities up like a vicious dog ripping its meat. Batman shall never accept this. Batman stepped off the ledge dove straight down, head first. Of course, he also has his cape, memory fabric weaved with kevlar, to provide armour and fire resistance. Most importantly, he could glide. Like a majestic eagle, (or bat) he stretched his arms and opened the memory fabric. The wings extended out, caught the air and in a split second, he surged upwards, glided effortlessly. His target, just 800 metres away, clambered onto his throne of rubble in the middle of the intersection and shot out commands. The police have already launched a riot squad. Gunshots fired in and around the apartments. A constant rainfall of bullets. Police dying left, Civilians crumpling right. As two-face laughed corruptly, Batman took aim on his target at full speed.
Darkness, crunching in the chest was all two-face felt. Batman sliced through the air and ripped two face from his rubble throne. Grabbing him by his collar, Batman extended his cape and took flight again. They arrived above an excluded battered apartment building, Batman threw Two-face onto the ground. "Tell your men to back off." growled Batman. Two-face grimaced in pain from his shattered ribs and smashed leg. Not answering Batman's question, Batman applied his foot onto Two-face's broken rib, and said in a more threatening tone,
"Why are you here." Two-face's deafening scream tore through the sky. He stuttered in pain,
"alright, alright. Its scarecrow… I don't know… Big money and big power rewards. He told us to raid this neighbourhood. Now please let go!" Sensing truth in his words, Batman released his crush. Spitting blood from his mouth, Two-face growled into his radio,
"Everyone back out, we're done here." Then, he faced Batman and spattered in disgust,
"Scarecrow's got something big planned for you. You're not going to survive this one!" Batman ignoring him, turned and spoke into his ear piece,
"Robin, Nightwing, what have you found?" Robin replied out of breath,
"We've got the penguin. However there were many explosives. All thats left now is a pile of rubble." Batman replied,
"What did penguin say?" Not to his surprise, Penguin replied in the same way as Two-face. Money and power. Of course, it is the wrong power to bring the wrong influence as Batman remembers so clearly.
Months ago, Under the influence of Hugo Strange, mayor Quincy Sharp fell before his knees under his full grasp. Men like Hugo, men like Quincy… Men like Ra's Al Ghul. They forced their way, their corrupt ideology, chugging it down Gotham's throat to the brink of death. Yet… they call this their Justice. What do they want? Their visions so grand and utopian. To clear Gotham of her scum killing and disposing of anyone 'against the system'. This idea disgusted Batman. Simply the idea of these men playing God's hand in taking and giving life cannot be the functioning of Batman's society. Hell, even Joker seems moderate under Strange and Ra's. However, this is something Batman no longer discusses about. Weeks after Joker's death, Batman isolated himself. He was contemplating the body of Joker. Yes, his death may have brought peace and closure to those who suffered under his reign. However, under Batman's pure and incorruptible morals, the spilling of one's blood and the plucking of one's life is absolute immorality. Rightful men and women must not descend, slip down the murderous slope and turn into murderers in attempt to install their Justice. However this brings the inevitable question. Are Batman's morals right? Should we entrust within him our ideas, and rely on Batman's action as our new-found sense of Justice?
About a year ago, in Arkham Asylum, Batman collapsed onto the ground. Struggling for direction, he battled to regain control. With his mind twisted beyond him, his eyes refocused, and adjusted to his new and strangely familiar surroundings. He stood within a dark long alleyway, brown towering brick walls stood threateningly around him. He grasped onto whatever around him, and dragged himself forwards. He raised his head, however his view confused him. A blurred figure crouched down in the alleyway. A familiar view, Batman strained and realised in shock. He was peering at himself. Not Batman, but Bruce Wayne… Not just Bruce Wayne, it was young Bruce. He was at the infamous Crime Alley. "Crane!" yelled Batman, Batman was once again subject to the Scarecrow's fear toxin. However the ordeal had just began. The young bruce now lifted his hands from the ground. Dripping, drenched, drowning in blood. "Thomas and Martha Wayne were good people!" The thunderous voice echoed within Batman's mind. "Gotham, you failed me!". Batman attempted to grip his mind back to reality. However, reality slipped, slid, and shifted beyond Batman. He stood and faced a full world of illusion. He hallucinated scarecrow's attack and a world of fire; crumbled and broken before him. Through all this, he survived, not only once, but three times. By his sheer force of will, he broke out of the iron chains of the fear toxin. Still… people question his unbreakable mind. Question his morals? Truly, he is man of a perfected mind. You can trust in him. You can fight for him. You can adopt the symbol of the Batman.
This is why Commissioner Gordon places so much trust and faith in Batman. Even in times like this, with men like the Penguin and Two-face. Back in Gotham city, Batman glided down into the building wreckage. The spilling of life had been inevitable. A few GCPD riot officers saluted Batman and said, "I've got no clue to why, or what they're doing here. They just dropped some serious charges in these surrounding buildings." Batman nodded, and as he was about to step away, he caught a peculiar tag name of the officer in from of him.
"Private Best?".
"Yes Sir!" was the reply, and a youthful officer straightened out his riot gear, immediately setting his back ruler straight. Batman looked and nodded approvingly. Looked deep into his shimmering brown eyes. "Keep up the good work. Stay safe, son."
"Thank you, Sir!" was the enthusiastic reply. After Batman stood out of earshot range, another envious officer whispered,
"He knows you? He knows you!".
"Hey, I've got a name tag, right here."
"But he picked you out amongst all of us! He definitely knows you. What have you done?"
"I've haven't got a clue…"
It is true, Batman knew a private Best. Just not this one in particular… Months ago, back at the Arkham City siege, holed up into the museum was the 13th precinct. An undercover strike team unit. Oswald Cobblepot, who has been moulded, shaped and forged in the depths of Gotham crime, was also quenched in the upper class, emerging as a razor sharp crime boss. The malevolent knife having stolen Mr Freeze's gun, mercilessly froze: "What you're hearing is an undercover cop having his fingers frozen to sub-zero temperatures." A chilling scream came over the speakers. "Now i wonder what would happen if take take this hammer and…" A long scream of "NO!" echoed throughout iceberg lounge. Cobblepot took a hammer and proceeded to smash: "Well, what do you know? His whole bloody hand explodes!" Followed by a vicious laugh. Batman infuriated, however, he remembers, deep embedded, etched into his mind, that he's a detective and best at what he does; he's not a boy scout, that's Superman's job. He's a mortal and susceptible to the nature of randomness, mother nature and factors beyond his control. What he could do, however was to plan, pursue, investigate, use his master intelligence and peak physical skills to bend unpredictable factors to his advantage. Unfortunately, moments later, bursting through into the iceberg lounge, having saved all other officers, the last stranded one struggled, tied up, face flopped onto the ground in the centre of the stage. Cobblepot, sneering disgustingly at Batman's appearance, lifted the officer up, thrusted him forwards, and pointed his umbrella at his back. Batman having just entered, could simply watch Penguin's shot end the Best. He was one of the best, and Sergent Best was the father to the private.
While walking towards the firefight scene, Batman received a call from Oracle, "I checked all past owners of these buildings in the past 20 years, cross referenced them with significant Gotham criminals and powerful people, I don't see any correlation. They were living areas, nothing particular stored there, no criminal activity, and absolutely no strategic advantage for both Penguin nor Two-face." Batman was sensing Oracle's intense nervousness. The mention of the scarecrow has frightened her, as they both remember the horrors that he can create.