People think that Arkham City is a place for the criminally insane, or just plain criminal. But how old do you have to be, and how do you qualify for being incarcerated here? Do you have to kill someone? Do you have to be legally an adult? Do you have to have a certificate that says "certified insane"? If any of that's true, then I don't belong here. I've never killed anyone; I've never gotten the certificate, and I'm not a legal adult. I'm sixteen. Weeks. Let me explain.

My earliest memory is right after Dad gave me my first USB flash drive – I know, it sounds crazy, but just listen. It was programmed with everything I would ever need to know about my family history, but because before that I didn't have anywhere to store any data, I couldn't remember what had happened to me before that point.

It could hold over 1,000 Gigabytes of memory, making it perfect for my first month of exploring my neighborhood. Dad would have to make me another flash drive after that. And just for those of you who are wondering, the multiple USB ports are at the base of my head, just below the hairline. The USB ports are inside little tunnels, deep enough that they aren't noticeable and don't get in my way.

That's when I understood. Dad was Dad, or Victor Fries; some people call him Mr. Freeze, which is ironic because you pronounce them exactly the same. Anyway, Dad was trying to keep Mom, or Nora Fries from dying from a fatal disease, when he found out she was pregnant. To save her, and hopefully the baby, he froze them. Unfortunately, the baby didn't survive.

For years now, he's tried and failed to take Mom's and his DNA and make a clone, another child, for them. I could see all my siblings, the ones who came before me and didn't survive. They were all programmed with personalities, so I suppose mine is programmed as well, but now, with all I've experienced, the programming is basically just a base for what I'm like now.

There's Drake, who only survived ten weeks, looked about to be ten when he died. He was cocky, arrogant, and brilliant.

There's my oldest sister, Chloe, who was beautiful, rather smart, but not nearly as much as Drake, and a really good singer. She was twelve weeks old when she died.

Then my closest brother, well, when it comes to age, Pierre, who was very talented with musical instruments, kind, and thoughtful. He was fourteen weeks when he perished.

I'm the first one to make to the age Dad wanted, he must have learned from all the others, but there was something else: I could store different memories and skills underneath files that could open when I speak their names. Since if I spoke in English and also saved all the files under English words, I would keep opening them accidentally in conversations. Instead, Dad had programmed me being able to speak French fluently, since Mom had studied French and loved the culture so much. That was what I would save memories under, French words.

And now I know who I really am. I'm Isabelle Fries, daughter of Mr. Freeze, the memory bank. I'll remember everything I've ever seen or read, like as if it was preserved, like as if it was preserved in ice.